The Desert Princess (10 page)

973 BC

The pains came upon me, a sharp knife to my back, as the sun was just beginning its descent toward the west. I paced my chambers while Inaya fretted, and the palace midwife was quickly summoned. They needn't have come so soon, as the babe fought his birth throughout the night.

I was sweaty and weary when he at last decided to make his appearance, in perfect time with the crest of dawn. Bathsheba appeared in my rooms toward the last and dispatched a guard to tell my husband the moment our son gave his first lusty cry.

“He is beautiful, Naamah.” Bathsheba was the first to hold my son after the midwife cleaned him and swaddled his small limbs. She kissed his forehead and gazed lovingly into his eyes. “He looks a little like Solomon did at his birth, but I daresay he favors you.” She handed him to me then, and I directed his mewling mouth to my breast. His pull was strong, and Bathsheba laughed at the sight. “How well I remember!”

I blinked, startled by the surge of love and emotion I felt for this child, my son. I closed my eyes as he nursed and would have slept but for the commotion in the halls.

Solomon entered my rooms without fanfare and stood near the door separating the sleeping chambers from the sitting room. His smile widened as I gently released my son's hold and held him so Solomon could see.

Bathsheba came and took him from me, leaving my arms aching, bereft. How quickly the child had molded to me! Solomon looked momentarily awkward as he reached for the child, and I feared that he might not keep his hold on the boy. But he soon warmed to his new role and settled our son more closely to his heart. At last he looked at me and smiled.

“He is Rehoboam,” he said with the authority I had come to expect from him now that he reigned as co-regent king. “‘He builds up the people.' A good name for a future king.”

“Rehoboam,” I said softly, liking the name. I smiled, and Solomon looked from our son to me.

“Thank you,” he said. His voice had lost its strong edge, and he kissed the boy's forehead and handed him back to his mother, who returned him to me.

I breathed in the scent of my son and held him against my cheek. Greater love than I had ever known filled me, and I knew in that moment that even my love for Solomon could not replace what I felt for my son. I barely noticed when Solomon turned and left my rooms.

I did not see Solomon again for eight days, the day Zadok the priest circumcised Rehoboam. King David and King Solomon, along with Zadok, pronounced God's blessings on the boy. I stood with Bathsheba along the wall, my heart breaking at my son's pitiful cries. I felt Bathsheba's touch, as though she sensed my desire to lunge across the room and scoop Rehoboam into my arms.

I glanced at her and sighed. She smiled and nodded. A mother's lot in life was not an easy one. But as I listened to Zadok explain the reason for circumcision and heard the promises of God's blessing through this covenant, I reminded myself that this pain would not last. This pain could not compare to the agony of Molech, the fire god whose flames devoured the lives of small children, the pain of their loss one that never abated. Rehoboam would never suffer such a fate.

Later that evening as I sat with my son in my chambers, quietly rocking him to sleep, I looked up as the outer door opened. My personal guard appeared, bowed, and stepped aside to allow my husband entrance.

“My lord,” I said, attempting to rise.

He stayed me with a wave of his hand and took the seat opposite me.

“How are you, my love? I have spoken little to you since Rehoboam's birth.” He settled himself as though he intended to stay for a time, though I knew he could not share my bed for many days until my purification.

I lifted Rehoboam from my shoulder, his limp body telling me he was sleeping. “Would you like to hold him?”

At his nod, I tucked the blanket better around the boy and placed him in Solomon's arms. The look on my husband's face was one of wonder, a reminder of the Solomon of my youth, my only love.

We sat in silence many moments while Solomon traced a line along our son's jaw and brushed the soft dark hair, so like his father's, from his temples.

“How are you, my husband?” I asked after Solomon at last handed Rehoboam to Inaya, who settled him in a cradle of soft linens in the next room, close enough so that I could hear his cries.

He leaned into the cushions and stretched both legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. “I spend the mornings passing judgment on those who seek it, and the afternoons with my father going over plans for the temple. There is still much to be gathered to have enough gold and silver and cedar and more to build the structure.” His eyes sparked with life as he spoke. “The building will be palatial, Naamah, bigger than my father's palace.”

I tried to envision things as he described them. “Can you show me the plans?” I longed to know more, especially as I watched the way he delighted in the telling.

His look grew thoughtful. “Yes, I think that could be arranged.”

“Where does he keep the model?”

“Near his bedchamber. Do you want to see it now?”

I glanced in the direction of my sleeping son, hating the thought of leaving him. But one look into Solomon's eyes told me that I could not put aside his wishes—not if I hoped to continue to hold his heart.

“Yes,” I said, rising from my plush chair. “Let me change to a better robe.” At his nod, I hurried from the room and quickly changed.

He was standing over Rehoboam's cradle, looking down at him with a proud smile, when I pronounced myself ready. He lifted his gaze to mine and took my hand in his.

We walked the corridors and came to a room near King David's bedchamber. A guard allowed us entrance, and a servant lit the lamps in the four corners. A table stood along one wall, and on it sat the most intricate, beautiful creation of buildings I had ever seen.

“There are two courts,” Solomon said, pointing to an inner and outer area that surrounded a lengthy building. “And two pillars, Boaz on the north and Jachin to the south, stand in the temple
portico, at the entrance to the temple on the east. The
Hekhal
, the first chamber, or Holy Place, is where the bread of the presence rests, where the seven-pronged lamp burns before the Lord from evening until morning, and where the altar of incense stands before the curtain that separates this place from”—he pointed to the furthest inner room—“the
Kodesh Hakodashim
, the Most Holy Place. This is where the Ark of the Covenant, the most sacred symbol of our God, will find its final resting place.”

I leaned closer, amazed at the detail. “You have even carved the walls with cherubim, palm trees, and open flowers and overlaid the cedar with gold.” I looked up. “I would not have expected such accuracy in a mere model.”

He smiled, his delight evident. “My father was not allowed to build this temple, but God did allow him to know its design. Since I was a boy of ten, my father has shared the drawings and plans with me. We built this together.”

I straightened and came alongside him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and looked into his eyes. “You have done amazing work, my love. I cannot wait to see this completed and standing on that mountain.”

He placed a gentle kiss on my lips, then leaned back and smiled. “I too look forward to that day. My father has called an assembly of the elders to come to Jerusalem next month to bring gifts to give in its building.” He stroked a finger along my temple. “I want you to be there with my mother and our son.”

I clung to him. “I am honored, my husband. I would not miss it!”

The assembly was one of the grandest festivals I had ever witnessed. Men from every tribe gathered to pay tribute to King David and King Solomon, but it was the sight of those great men bowing low before the Lord and the kings that caused a lump in my throat. How blessed I was to see this!

The following day rivaled my wedding day, and I watched in awe to see the exuberance and joy throughout the palace and all of Jerusalem. A thousand bulls, a thousand rams, and a thousand male lambs, together with drink offerings and other sacrifices, were offered in abundance at the place where the temple would stand,
while male singers, Levites whom King David had set apart, sang praise songs to Adonai.

Solomon knelt at the head of the company before Zadok the priest, and my heart swelled with deep respect and pride as Zadok poured the anointing oil over Solomon's head for the second time.

“Long live King Solomon! May your reign be greater than your father David's!” Shouts from the crowd filled the city until the ground shook, as though the earth itself rejoiced in that moment.

Rehoboam startled and gave a vigorous cry as I held him close against my chest, his cries drowned out by the joy surrounding us. I patted his back and cooed softly in his ear as I walked with Solomon's mother and the other women of King David's court toward the throne room.

I handed Rehoboam to Inaya as we were ushered to seats nearest the throne, and as I turned to watch the trumpeters and flag bearers, I felt a soft touch on my arm. I looked beside me and found myself wrapped in the warmth of Bathsheba's smile.

“This is a great day for him,” she said, and I did not miss the look that carried more memories than I could share. “At last they have accepted him.”

I nodded. “As they should.”

The crowd in the hall grew silent a moment later as Solomon swept into the room with regal grace, head held high, his father's glittering crown on his head. He reached the steps and paused, nodding in deference to his mother and father, who sat to the right and left of King David's gilded throne.

I waited, wondering if he would acknowledge me, and felt a pang of disappointment when he took his seat without a single glance my way. Was this how it would be from now on?

The thought worried me as I watched King David stand and give his scepter to his son. Solomon embraced his father, and I thought not for the first time how blessed my husband was to be so favored by his father. Would Rehoboam fare the same?

As King David took his seat again with Solomon's aid, the entrance to the throne room filled with King David's officers and mighty men, and I noticed with relief King David's sons, Solomon's half brothers, leading the way. They walked the long hall and came to bow at Solomon's feet, pledging their submission to the new king.

Even Adonijah.

As this former rival bowed before my husband, I noticed the slightest clenching of Solomon's jaw, saw the slightest straightening of his spine. His grip whitened on the scepter, but as Adonijah rose, Solomon simply nodded to each of these brothers who had turned against him six months before. Now they were promising to obey Solomon. I shuddered to think what Solomon would do if they broke that promise.

971 BC

The breeze lifted the curtains from the window in my sitting room, and birdsong came from the trees in the courtyard below. An urgent knock sounded on my outer door. My breath came faster as Inaya hurried to my side.

“Is it King David?” The king had not been well in recent days, and by her stricken look I already knew the answer.

She nodded. “He gave his final words to Solomon last night, and word has it that he just now slipped into Sheol.”

I set my stitching aside and folded my idle hands in my lap, staring at the small calluses the needlework had caused. Solomon had not come to me last night or told me about his father's final words.

“Where is Solomon?” I could think of nothing else to ask and suddenly wished he were the one standing beside me to give me this news and hold me close to his heart. Though he had not taken another wife since his coronation, his visits to me were few. And I did not miss the looks that had passed between him and Abishag when we visited his father's chambers together. I could not stop the jealousy that crowded my heart during those times.

“He is with his mother, making arrangements for the burial.” Inaya came to me and sat at my side, her own callused hand taking hold of mine.

Rehoboam left his blocks and crawled onto my lap, and I buried my face in his soft hair, grateful for the chubby arms that came around my neck. Of course Solomon would be with his mother. Solomon confided often in her. Though I loved my mother-in-law, I did not love her hold over my husband. He shared so little of himself with me these days, yet Bathsheba seemed to know more about his goings-on than I did.

“What shall we do?” I felt the need to do something, but I had no idea what.

“Wait,” Inaya said, stroking Rehoboam's soft curls. “They will send word when it is time for the procession to the tomb.”

Solomon had built a grand tomb for his father, a project that had taken nearly two years to complete. And now it was ready as the king's final resting place. I hugged Rehoboam close as I pondered that thought.

But as I walked with the procession later that afternoon, behind Bathsheba, Abishag, and the younger wives and concubines of King David, I felt much more than the grief of loss. Fear of the future and the heavy hammer of jealousy fractured my heart with every weighted step. After the period of mourning, Solomon would be free to marry Abishag, the final solidification of his rule.

I was not ready, could not bear the thought of sharing him. Not in the middle of another pregnancy, and not at the onset of such a great loss of his father.

I glanced at the younger woman, her beauty veiled in its cloak of grief, one step behind Solomon and his mother. Closer to Solomon than I to him.

I could not let her come between us even in marriage.

The loss of King David brought subtle changes to the palace, and my fears that Abishag would quickly replace me slowly dissipated. Months passed, and the time of my confinement came upon me. After a long night of intense struggle, I birthed a girl. Solomon briefly stopped in my chambers to hold the child on his knee, but he did not name her as he had Rehoboam. I named her Hephzibah, “my delight is in her.”

One day when Hephzibah was three months old, I dared to hope that Solomon had ceased to think that a king's power was determined by the size of his harem, for I remained his only queen. As I quietly nursed Hephzibah, marveling at the perfection of her features, Inaya entered my chambers. Her brows knit in that telltale frown.

“What happened?” I held Hephzibah closer.

“Adonijah has been to visit Bathsheba.” She drew in a breath, but her pale eyes were alight with the thrill of gossip. “He has asked her to request of Solomon Abishag's hand in marriage.”

I forced my racing heart to still, lest I disturb Hephzibah, who was so close to sleeping. She still woke often in the night to nurse, and I did not have the energy to keep her awake just now.

“What does this mean?” How perfect for me it would be if Solomon gave the woman into Adonijah's care. And yet . . . “Solomon will see this as a threat.”

At Inaya's nod, my hopes quickly faded. “Adonijah is risking his life,” she said.

“Will Bathsheba speak to Solomon on Adonijah's behalf? He will listen to her. It may be that Adonijah's request will be answered because it comes through Solomon's mother.” But surely my wise mother-in-law would see Adonijah's request as the threat that it was.

“It is said that the queen mother is on her way to the audience chamber even now. Adonijah's request will be laid before Solomon today.”

“Within the hour, no doubt.” I covered my breast as Hephzibah's mouth went slack and sleep claimed her. I rose and settled her in the cradle Rehoboam had once occupied. I returned to Inaya. “Go to the audience chamber and find out what you can. Then come and tell me everything.”

I wanted desperately to be the one to do the listening, but I decided now was not the time to appear at court. Not the way I was dressed, and there was no time to fix my hair or freshen myself.

Inaya hurried from the room to do my bidding while I paced my rooms, wondering which way Solomon's judgment would go and who would be the one to suffer with the change.

The news reached me long before Inaya returned to my rooms, as I could no longer bear to stay cooped up in my chambers. By the time I arrived, the audience hall was abuzz with chatter, and Solomon had retreated to his private quarters. His mother was also no longer in sight, and I feared I had wasted too much precious time dressing.

Inaya met me in the halls as I headed back toward the stairs. “You must come with me, child.” She touched my arm as she spoke, and her round face bore a frown. She had not called me
child
since I had borne Rehoboam.

I followed her toward the king's gardens and walked partway down the path toward some overhanging vines. “What did you hear?”

She bade me sit on the stone bench beneath the vines, but I refused. “Just tell me.” I knew I would not like her words.

“Solomon has ordered Benaiah to execute Adonijah for requesting Abishag as his wife!” She glanced about and lowered her voice. “I would not be the least surprised to discover that his mother made the request knowing that it would give Solomon the excuse he needed to rid himself of that man. For all of his sincere words of allegiance to Solomon, I did not trust him.”

I looked beyond Inaya to the beauty that was once King David's royal gardens, now my husband's. One day Solomon would build bigger gardens and a larger palace. Solomon loved beauty, and he would do all in his power to create more than this.

Abishag's image floated before my thoughts, her virgin beauty a reminder of what was fading in mine. “What is to become of Abishag then?” Though I already knew.

Inaya shook her head. “I do not know, my lady.” Her sudden use of the more respectful term made me straighten and look deeply into her eyes. She spoke truth. “The king retreated to his chambers immediately after the judgment.”

I stood a moment in indecision. Solomon rarely summoned me to his chambers. Would he come to mine now?

Doubt sailed through me, but I straightened my spine and met Inaya's gaze. “I must go to him. I must know what he will do.”

Inaya nodded. “You must do as you think best, mistress.”

I gathered my robe about me, warding off an inner chill that I suddenly could not shake. “Wait for me in my rooms,” I said as I walked off alone. What would I say to my husband if he took Abishag now to be his wife? I could feel the longings of my youth, the determination to be all he needed, slipping like water through my clenched fingers.

A thousand thoughts filled my head, and I sorted through them, accepting some and discarding others as I walked. When I reached the rooms that once belonged to his father, now Solomon's alone, I paused. My heart pounded with the beat of too many drums as I asked the guard for entrance. I smoothed sweaty palms on my robe and drew in a deep though labored breath. I felt as though I had run the length of Jerusalem, but I had only walked a few halls. Would he see me?

The door opened moments later, and Solomon met me just inside the door. I sank to my knees.

“My lord king,” I said, my voice shaking. I discreetly cleared my throat as he bid me rise.

“Naamah, my love. Come. Sit.” He guided me to a new gilded couch that I quickly realized was only one part of the changes he had made to transform this room into his own. The air was cooler, the extra braziers no longer needed to warm the old king. “What can I do for you today?” His smile seemed relaxed, and he leaned back on the couch beside me, his posture that of one who is at peace.

I glanced at him, emboldened by his bright smile. When he took my hand in his and squeezed, I wanted to promise him anything. Anything to keep me in his favor and him in mine.

I intertwined our fingers. “I have heard of Adonijah's request . . . and your judgment.” I watched the lines along his brow draw slightly together, but then he took in a breath and relaxed again.

“His actions amounted to treason. To request a king's wife is to request the kingdom.”

I nodded. I knew this. “We will breathe easier knowing he is no longer a threat to you or to Rehoboam.” The subtle reminder that I had borne his heir brought a curious tilt to his head. “I was wondering,” I said, straightening, holding the intensity of his gaze, “what is now to become of Abishag?”

He looked at me for a long, silent moment, his expression sobering. He leaned closer to me, lifted the veil over my shoulder, and traced a hand along my jaw.

“I will wed her at week's end,” he said, his tone so matter-of-fact and emotionless that I blinked, leaning back to better look into his eyes. He shrugged, fingering a strand of my hair. “If I don't take her to wife, another of my brothers could try to take her. I would rather not have to see all of them put to death on her account.”

He leaned forward and kissed my cheek, his breath soft against my face. He was planning to take another wife, and yet here he sat wooing me.

“Do you love her?” I recalled the laughter he'd shared with her the first night I had met her.

Solomon leaned slightly away from me, his dark, mysterious eyes taking me in with a look I couldn't quite read. “I love you, Naamah. You are my first wife, mother of my heir.” He leaned closer again
and kissed me as he had the first time, the night of our wedding. “How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful! Your eyes are doves.” His kiss deepened, and I wrapped my arms about him, clinging to him.

“Your lips drip sweetness as the honeycomb, my bride; milk and honey are under your tongue,” he said when at last he pulled back and cupped my face in his hands. “You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride.” He drew me to him and rested my head against his chest. “You have stolen my heart.”

He held me then, and time seemed insignificant as we talked and laughed and he coaxed me to the plush cushions of his bed and encased me in his love.