Queen of Sheba (9 page)

“Never mind. You wouldn’t understand. Come along with us and you’ll see everything.”

Badget didn’t hesitate. He wanted to know more of what was happening and so he scrambled down from the wall and followed the crowd until he came to the great temple. He hesitated only a moment and then mounted the marble steps that led into the dimly lit sanctuary.

Bilqis stood for a moment in the doorway of Ilumquh’s small pavilion listening to the deafening roar of the crowd. They strengthened her resolve. Her people expected her to be brave and fearless and she was determined not to disappoint them.

Gradually her eyes became accustomed to the darkness. The room contained nothing but a long, low slab of alabaster raised only slightly from the floor. There was a strange, unearthly glow emanating mysteriously from its entire length. Flung across its surface was a fur spread. There
was nothing else in what appeared to be a circular room.

Every nerve was alert and tense. Her ears were tuned to even the slightest sound. A vast silence surrounded her, broken only by the distant drumming and high, lilting voices of priestesses in the oval place of meeting.

Suddenly behind her the great doors through which she had entered closed with a resounding thud. There was a rush of stale air and then a sliding, clanging, metallic sound as a bolt fastened them shut. Voices of the mob outside faded.

For a moment panic seized her. Her hand flew to the leopardskin cape and she breathed a prayer, “God of the leopards, help your queen.”

There was no other sound. Gradually she relaxed and looked with fascination at the alabaster slab. It was undoubtedly intended for an altar, but there was no fire, only the mysterious glowing of the stone. She reached out her hand and found it wasn’t even warm, yet it continued to glow as though burning with some internal fire. “Come, Ilumquh must not be kept waiting.” The voice seemed to come out of the wall and echo round and round the room. There was no one in sight and yet the voice was distinct as though whispering in her ear.

“You must do exactly as I say and nothing will harm you.” A face, creased with wrinkles and outlined with gray wisps of hair materialized in the darkness. Bilqis saw that the old woman had evidently been there for some time, but she was completely dressed in black that melted into the darkness of the room. She held a lamp in one hand and a clay bowl in the other and it became obvious that the lamp had been covered by the bowl.

“This is your marriage bed.” Her gnarled hand moved over the marble slab and her eyes fastened on Bilqis in an almost hypnotic fashion. She set the lamp down and lifted braided cords from around her neck.

Bilqis backed away, “What is that? I’ll not be bound.”

The old woman continued to run the cords through her gnarled hands undaunted by the queen’s protest, “These are the cords of love that bind you to Ilumquh’s altar. It is an honor to be bound with these cords.”

“I am a queen, not just a woman. And I’ll not be bound.”

The old woman shrugged. “Ilumquh will not be pleased.”

Bilqis sat down cross-legged on the glowing slab, “Let him come. I am ready.”

The old woman seemed a bit taken aback by her daring. She picked up the lamp, put the clay piece over it, then hesitated. “Ilumquh does not speak. He will come with smoke and fire and you must not move or he will be displeased that you are not bound.”

Bilqis was now less frightened. Her eyes had grown somewhat accustomed to the darkness. She saw that there was no furniture, only niches in the walls and a huge door in front of her. The idol’s niche was empty.

The old woman headed for the door and then hesitated. She set the covered lamp on the floor and returned with the cords. “Here,” she said laying the cords in Bilqis’s lap, “let this be on your head not mine. It is no business of mine if you have untied the cords.” With that she turned and fled from the room as though in a great fright.

No sooner was the old woman gone than Bilqis noticed a strange odor that seemed to rise and float around her. It was sickeningly sweet and made her feel groggy. She was just steeling herself to resist the lethargy when she heard a distant rumble. The slab she sat on trembled and smoke billowed in under the closed door. The rumble grew louder and closer. The door shook and the room seemed to tilt and fill with puffs of smoke.

Now in real fright Bilqis clung to the alabaster slab and watched the dark outline of the door. She gasped for breath. She tried to remember that she was the leopard queen and nothing could harm her, but it did little good. The door shook and bent under the blows that now rained down upon it.

Suddenly it burst open with a loud, resounding crash. Light flashed, smoke flared and billowed, and in the midst there appeared the face of a jackal. The eyes protruded and the hair of the brows was stiff and brittle, the nose sharp, and the teeth were terrible teeth that glistened in the flashing light.

Bilqis stifled a scream. Never had she imagined Ilumquh to take such a hideous shape. He wasn’t the soft, glowing light she had worshiped but rather a raging bull of an animal, and she was terrified. Never before, even in the heat of battle as she rode in the Markab, had she been so frightened.

She felt the beast’s claws grasp her arms in a tight grip and she smelled the stale, sickening odor of Ilumquh’s sanctuary. She began to struggle with the beast, her terror lending her strength. For a moment the beast seemed to waver as she kicked the cords off to one side. She thought she
heard a curse as the beast’s head bent over her, his hot breath sickened her so that she thought she would vomit. She felt his body pinning her to the slab and she grew wild with terror.

With one awful wrench she tore at the beast’s red, glaring eyes. There was a ripping, tearing sound. The beast’s ugly face was in her hand and an angry, human face stared out at her from a fur hood.

With almost superhuman strength she pushed him from her and jumped to her feet. She towered over him for only a moment before snatching up the lamp left behind by the old woman. With a flick of her finger she sent the cover flying, and holding the lamp high she looked at the beast.

She gasped in surprise. She saw first the carefully clipped beard, then the cold eyes, and finally the serpent ring on his finger; it was none other than the High Priest. “You, you!” she panted. “You meant to fool me. You meant to fool your queen.”

At that the creature seemed to wilt. He let the fur robe slide from his shoulders and sat before her stunned and submissive. The blood dripped from his cheek where she had scraped him with the mask. He reached up and felt his cheek then looked at his hand. “You have wounded me,” he said with growing indignation.

“And you have deceived me. For a whole month you have had me bathing in sour goat’s milk, eating bitter roots and testicles of goats.” Her mouth grimaced in memory of the awful ordeal.

“You suffered no special affront. We ask that of everyone.”

“Ohhhh! How could you? Why should you ask that of everyone? It’s not Ilumquh; it’s you. Everything is false. Everything’s a trick. It’s all the ergot drug and your clever manipulation. There’s no Ilumquh. Admit it old man—there’s no Ilumquh!”

For a moment the High Priest looked stunned and then he collected himself. “Who is wise enough to know if there is an Ilumquh. If there isn’t, there should be. If he doesn’t speak, he should speak. It’s not our fault if we must at times speak and act for him.”

“Stop! Stop! This is unbearable.” Bilqis was walking back and forth pausing only now and then to glare at the old High Priest. “You were going to pass yourself off as Ilumquh and be the father of my child. How could you dare to be so bold with me?”

The High Priest rose to his feet and tugged at the skins he wore around his waist, “It was all for you, all for you. A little deception, but what does that matter? You would have had the heir you need and stopped the people’s complaint but now …”

“A little deception you call it. It’s a little thing that you have robbed me of my god. Cheated me, lied to me.”

“But, but don’t you see it was for a good cause?”

“Oh,” Bilqis exploded, “truth means nothing to you.”

“Nothing if it is inconvenient, my queen, and this was very inconvenient.”

“Don’t you think I would rather deal with the truth than to depend on a lie? Truth is everything. Without truth the whole world has gone mad.”

The High Priest looked stunned. It was evident that he had no idea why she was so angry. “You are upset that I left you out of the plot to gain an heir for Sheba.”

“Yes, yes but more. I am upset that you lied to me.”

The High Priest fell to his knees and pleaded. “It was just a little deception and it would have solved all our problems.”

Bilqis pulled her robes out of his hands and drew herself up to her full height. “To me truth is everything. I am the queen and I must know the truth at any cost. Now open the door. I must tell my people the truth.”

The priest’s eyes narrowed and he jumped to his feet. “My queen, I beg you, don’t be so foolish. The people are ignorant. They believe in Ilumquh. They plant and harvest by his strength.”

“And they are terrified that he will desert them. You’re a scoundrel of the worst sort, and I intend to expose you to my people for what you are.”

The priest adjusted the fur robe and stiffened as though resisting her harsh words. It was obvious he had regained some of his composure. “I doubt that you will do any such thing if you think about it.”

“Why, why should I not tell my people the truth?” Her eyes were flashing as she backed toward the door.

“You’ll not tell them because they won’t believe you. They’d rather kill their queen than believe Ilumquh doesn’t exist.”

Bilqis hesitated. She knew he told the truth. The people were simple and couldn’t understand something so alien to all they had been taught.
“Open the doors!” she said finally with quiet dignity.

“But …” the High Priest was again anxious.

“I’ll not expose you now.” Her tone was clipped and firm. “I need time to think. Now open the door.”

The High Priest fell at her feet in obvious fright. “My queen, you must appear before the people waiting in the great temple. They have been praying and …”

“Get up and open the door,” she ordered.

The High Priest stumbled to his feet, grabbed up the hideous mask, and adjusted it awkwardly. With a motion of his hand a door slid open revealing a passageway leading into the large temple area.

Bilqis swept past him and then turned. “Until I myself have found the truth, I’ll not rob my people of their faith. It’s for their sakes not yours I will be silent now.”

B
ilqis struggled to hide her agitation until she reached the safety of her rooms. She was so shaken she hadn’t spoken a word to anyone. She barely noticed the curious, speculative looks of priests and priestesses, guards, tribesmen, and the crowds that had to be held back to let her pass.

As she ordered, her palanquin had been brought directly to her private garden. She wanted to be alone, but even here in her own rooms it was impossible. She found her maidens all gathered around the door, hoping to guess by her demeanor what had happened in the temple.

With an impatient wave of her hand she dismissed all of them. Only old Najja was allowed to remain. As she helped her remove the elaborate robes, Najja seemed startled to find blood on her mantle and a section of her robe torn. Out of the corner of her eye, Bilqis saw Najja’s eyebrows shoot up and a frown cross her face.

For a moment Bilqis toyed with the idea of telling her everything. The moment passed, and she decided Najja would be only scandalized and bewildered by such a revelation. Najja was a firm believer in Ilumquh, as were all the people of Sheba. They swore by the moon’s rising, measured days and nights by its appearance, and would only plant and harvest by the full moon. Ilumquh controlled everything of any importance to them. Il Hamd was right; they would not easily be shaken from their belief.

With a sigh she settled into her bed and let Najja draw the heavily embroidered curtains, then listened as the old woman shuffled from the room.

Now she wanted more than anything to be alone. She turned her head and put her hands over her eyes as she remembered the terrible odor and the horror of the apparition. She shuddered and ran her hand back and forth over the place on her arm where his fingernails had drawn blood as he clutched at her. She turned over and buried her head in her arms as she tried over and over again to shake the horrible defilement that she had
experienced. She who had been feared, honored, acclaimed, and treated with such diffidence that no one dared approach without her permission, had suddenly been accosted and deceived in this shabby manner. It was unthinkable.