He didn’t say the rest, what I knew was true. Until he was named king, he was not free to do as he pleased. He spent his waking moments learning all he could about the kingdom and how to manage it, while he spent his nights praying he would be the one allowed to do so.
The weeks came and went in continual sameness. Solomon, true to his word, sent parchment and a tutor, and King David delighted in watching me learn in between his intermittent naps. Music filled the king’s chambers as he taught me to play some of the instruments he had fashioned, and I daresay that the joy of song brought more warmth to his body than the fire or the woolen coverings.
One evening as I played a song I had created for the king and queen, the guard entered, asking permission for Adonijah to join us. Solomon always strode past the guards and needed no introduction, which I discerned did not go unnoticed by his brothers or those who would gossip throughout the palace. I was secretly glad Solomon enjoyed this pleasure.
I was not at all happy to greet Adonijah.
My fingers stilled on the strings of the lyre and the words died on my lips. Adonijah stepped into the room.
“Please, do not stop on account of me,” he said, his smile confident and the look in his eyes too focused on examining me.
I looked away and glanced at my husband the king, suddenly relieved to have that connection to him. Adonijah could not touch me as long as King David lived. In that moment, I prayed he would live forever.
Adonijah knelt at his father’s side and kissed the signet ring on the king’s extended hand. He merely nodded politely at Bathsheba, and I saw his lips twitch in the slightest tightening of his jaw.
“You look well tonight, Father.” Adonijah took the seat opposite David and Bathsheba, closest to me.
“As do you, my son. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
I knew the real question had more to do with what the king could do for his son. Everyone came seeking something from the king, even in his weakened state, though sometimes it was simply to ask how he or she could help him.
“I had heard you were feeling better, that you are moving forward with plans to build the temple, so I wanted to come to offer my assistance, Father.” Adonijah’s smile seemed genuine, but I did not trust him.
“I have no plans to build the temple, my son. Adonai has only allowed me to assist in the design and preparation. This has not changed.” The king’s frown troubled me. Had someone fed Adonijah false information, or was this son trying to use the king’s favorite subject to learn things he should not know?
I stood, silently slipping from my seat. There would be no more music in Adonijah’s presence.
Adonijah laughed, the sound jarring. “I see I am mistaken then. It is your heir who will build the temple to our God.” It wasn’t a question, and the king did not respond to it. “Forgive me, Father. I listened to false information. If there is anything I can do to help you gather the materials you need, if you should want me to call the elders together to bring their treasures to the king’s storehouses, you have only to ask.”
My heart beat double time as I set the lyre in the leather casing and took it to the shelf where it normally rested. Solomon discussed this so often with his father that I could not imagine the words coming out of anyone else’s mouth. And yet, this was clearly not Solomon sitting before his father now. Surely the king would not give in to Adonijah’s request.
I slipped farther into the shadows of the room, my hands clasped, wishing I had reason to leave and yet glad to be privy to this conversation. Perhaps there was some way I could warn Solomon.
“Thank you for your offer, my son.” King David’s words drew my wayward thoughts into focus. “I am sure there will be time enough for what you suggest.”
I studied Adonijah’s reaction, saw the clenching of his hands, but a moment later he relaxed them, smiled, and stood. “Very well then. I only came for a moment to see how you are faring. I am glad to see you are doing much better than the rumors foretold.”
“Thank you for taking the time to come, my son.”
Adonijah bowed before the king once more, then turned and walked from the chambers without a backward glance. Once he was out of sight and the door securely shut, I moved closer to the king and queen.
“Can I get you anything, my lord?” I asked, kneeling at his side.
He touched my shoulder. “A blanket. Several. And add some wood to the fire.” I touched his arm, surprised at the coolness of his skin. Somehow he had shown himself strong in the presence of the son who wanted to wear his crown. But he was not strong.
I hurried to do his bidding.
5
Despite my concerns over the king’s frailty, his slow improvement surprised me. He was still not well enough to return to court or to preside over official matters other than a few daily conversations with his advisors, but he allowed me to use less wood in the brazier, and he took fewer naps during the waking hours.
One morning I had arisen early to use the palace mikvah before returning to the king. It felt good to be purified, clean once more before Adonai. Since I could not stray from the palace walls, I could not visit the tabernacle where the ark rested. My worship came in song and dance, and in recent weeks I had taken to sketching the trees and flowers in the garden on scraps of clay. Someday I hoped Bathsheba would teach me to use the mosaics and turn the tiled walkway of the king’s gardens into more than simple stone.
But all thoughts of such pursuits fled my mind when I nearly bumped into Adonijah in the king’s halls as I passed near the audience chamber. His presence here should not have surprised me. The king’s sons and courtiers met daily in the chamber to judge some of the lesser cases the king could not, though the more difficult ones were still brought to him through his advisors. I knew that Solomon took turns with his brothers, but none had taken over as co-regent. It would not be fitting without the king’s approval.
“Abishag. I did not expect to see you here.” Adonijah’s voice was smooth, like the oil of the olive at its first pressing. “How lovely you look, my queen.”
His queen? I was not a queen in any sense. But clearly Adonijah thought me worthy of the title. “Thank you, my lord.” I ducked my head and turned to go to the king’s chambers by another route. But Adonijah stayed me with a hand to my shoulder. His touch felt like the scorching of fire. I jerked, stepping away from him.
He held up a hand in apology. “Forgive me, Abishag. I have no business detaining you.” He paused, but his intense gaze held me captive. “I wonder, though, if you might consider doing something for me.”
Wariness crept up my spine as I met his handsome, shuttered gaze. “That depends, of course, on what you are asking of me, my lord.” I clasped my hands together, determined to still the sudden trembling that had overtaken me.
He tilted his head and lifted a curious brow, studying me. “You are as beautiful as they say.” The statement seemed to come out of nowhere. He had seen me in the king’s presence enough times to know what I looked like.
I held my peace, waiting, anxious.
Adonijah glanced around as if fearing we would be overheard. “I wonder if you might convince the king to allow me more authority to judge the people in his absence. There is much work to be done, and many in the city are worried that the kingdom is falling into chaos while my father fights his illness. My brother Solomon already takes on many of the cases here in the palace courts, but there are other places to judge, at the city gates or in some of the cities of refuge.”
“I do not see what this has to do with me, my lord.” Though I saw too clearly what he did not say. “I am merely the king’s nurse. I do not engage in matters of the kingdom.”
“Perhaps not,” he said, leaning closer. “But you have the king’s ear. You can convince my father to name his heir, or at the very least to appoint us to act with greater power in his place.”
I could not imagine why Adonijah thought I would agree with him or act on his behalf. Adonijah was o
lder than Dekel and held no appeal for me. Besides, I did not like his arrogance. And he did not know my heart yearned for Solomon, even more than it once did for Yaron.
“If my father names me king,” he said softly, leaning closer still, “I would gladly take you as my wife.”
I nearly felt his breath on my cheek and instinctively took a step back. “I belong to King David, my lord. And I must hurry back to him.”
“King David will not live forever.” Adonijah almost seemed pleased with that thought.
“Nevertheless, let us hope his days are long on the earth.” I turned then and fled down the corridor, hoping he did not follow. My heart thumped with the speed of many horses but was no match for my running feet. I did not stop until I reached the king’s chambers and slipped inside, my breath heaving. Thanks be to Adonai, the king was still sleeping.
The following day on my return from the palace cooking rooms, one of the servants stopped me in the halls. “Have you heard the news?”
I had met the girl, Rani, once or twice and was told she would one day become my own servant. But I had no need of a servant when it was I who served the king. I shook my head. “What news?” Her expression set my heart to racing.
“Nathan the prophet is here. He just entered the queen’s apartments.” Her excited tone and wide eyes told me this was important, but I could not imagine why.
“Is this unusual?” I hated to appear the novice that I was, but I had only heard of the prophet through tales of long ago, before I was born.
“Nathan the prophet rarely brings good news,” she whispered.
I scowled and gave in to the tiniest frown. “Tell me what else you have heard.” The gossips would have spread many a rumor by now. Surely this girl had listened to them.
She glanced behind and beyond her, then leaned in close to share her secret. “There are rumors in the city that Adonijah has declared himself king and our lord doesn’t know it.”
I sucked in a breath. How quickly Adonijah had acted when only yesterday he spoke as though such a thing were a long way off. As if he needed my help! The liar!
The prophet must be here to warn Bathsheba and Solomon.
I thanked Rani with a nod and ran all the way back to the king’s rooms.
I greeted the guard with furrowed brow. “Is anyone with him?” I whispered for his ears alone.
The man shook his head. “No, mistress. He is still abed, as you left him.”
My heartbeat slowed its anxious pacing. “Good.” I brushed past him into the chambers and hurried to the king’s side, my mind telling me to confirm the guard’s words, and found King David exactly as I had left him. He opened his eyes and smiled at my approach.
“You are back.”
“Yes, my lord. How are you feeling today?” He seemed frail yet slightly stronger than yesterday.
“Tired of this bed,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Perhaps you can help me to the couch. I need to stretch these old limbs.”
“Of course,” I said, glancing quickly around for his thickest robe. I snatched it from the peg where I had placed it the night before, then gently pulled the covers back and took his arm. He wrapped a thin arm around me, and together we managed to get him to his feet.
“Age seems to have caught up with me, Abishag.” He straightened, and I saw the slightest wince cross his still handsome features, as though something pained him.
“Do you hurt, my lord?” The physician had left me enough of the willow bark to give the king as he needed, to ease the aches of whatever malady had overtaken him. Oh how I wished he were well again. I wondered what life would have been like for him if he had not succumbed to this illness. I did not consider until later that I would not have met the king if he were well. I would still be living in my small village in Dekel’s house, forgotten and treated as a servant.
“No. No pain,” he said, drawing my thoughts to him again. I glanced at him, assessing him. If he did not speak truth, it was only because he was weary of sleeping. The willow bark made him sleep day and night.
“That is good.” I settled him onto his couch and tucked thick blankets around him. His chest lifted in a deep sigh.
“Thank you.” He smiled at me but said nothing more.
I stepped into the adjoining chamber to heat some spiced wine over a small brazier and returned with a cup and placed it in the king’s hands. He nodded at me and took a sip.
“Are you comfortable, my lord?”
He seemed not to hear me at first, his gaze taking me in, then growing distant.
“My lord?”
“What? Oh yes, I am quite snug in all of these blankets. Thank you.”
I looked up at the sound of the king’s side door opening, the one that led to his gardens and Bathsheba’s chambers. The king’s personal guard, Benaiah, entered.
“My lord, the lady Bathsheba would speak a word with you.”
“Send her in then,” the king said, straightening. He lifted the goblet to me, and I hurried to take it from him.
Bathsheba entered quickly with a smile that did not reach her eyes. I watched the king assess her, and a silent communication passed between them, as if the king could read her thoughts. She bowed, touching her forehead to the lion’s skin that covered the tile floor at his feet.
“What is your wish?” he asked.
She rose with a grace I have often admired and stretched her hands in supplication toward him. The lines along her mouth and brow increased. She drew in a shallow breath, and I knew as I studied her that her need was urgent.
“My lord,” she said softly, her tone respectful, “you swore by Adonai Eloheikhem, the Lord your God, to your maidservant, saying, ‘Assuredly Solomon your son shall reign after me, and he shall sit on my throne.’ But now Adonijah has become king, and my lord the king, you do not know about it.”
A little gasp escaped me, and I watched the king’s eyes widen then narrow slightly, as though he struggled to accept the queen’s words. But I knew it was true. My pulse quickened as I glimpsed an older man, hair hanging long as the Nazirites wear it, standing beyond Bathsheba near the door, where he was nearly hidden by Benaiah’s broad bulk.
“He has sacrificed oxen and fattened cattle and sheep in abundance,” Bathsheba continued, “and has invited the sons of the king, Abiathar the priest, and Joab. But he has not invited Solomon your servant. My lord the king, the eyes of all Israel are on you, to learn from you who will sit on the throne after you. Otherwise as soon as my lord the king is laid to rest with his fathers, Solomon and I will be treated as criminals.”
Her words fell like a heavy pall in the room, and my own heart fell with them. A sick feeling settled within me, and I saw again the look in Adonijah’s eyes as he had leaned too close and spoken to me just yesterday. My heart beat heavy with dread. I should have warned the king or Solomon of what I suspected. And yet, I’d had no real proof. One such as I did not accuse a prince of treason without evidence. And now it stood, glaring before us.
The king straightened, and one of the blankets slipped from his shoulders. I moved slowly forward to tuck it in behind him again, but he waved me off, extending a hand to Bathsheba instead. Their fingers clasped, but before the king could speak a word, Benaiah stepped into the room, closer to the king. Their hands parted, and Bathsheba moved into the shadows, out of the king’s line of vision. She glanced at me once, but her gaze quickly focused again on the king.
Benaiah entered the space where she had stood and bowed low. “My lord,” he said, “Nathan the prophet is here.”
Things moved quickly after that. The prophet swept forward, bowed low, and repeated the same words that had just fallen from Bathsheba’s lips. My heart skipped several beats as I listened, fearing for Solomon, for Bathsheba, for all of us. I reminded myself to breathe.
Please, Adonai, protect Solomon. How often I had imagined a future day when I would pass into his court to become one of his wives. But now . . . Adonijah’s face floated in my mind’s eye, h
is proud face laughing down at me as though he had already won. What use was this meeting of the few leaders who remained? Adonijah had Joab, whose military might filled the tales around campfires. And the king was so old.
“Has this thing been brought about by my lord the king and you have not told your servants who should sit on the throne of my lord the king after him?” Nathan’s words pulled me from the dread, the desperation, rising swiftly within me.
“Call Bathsheba to me.” The strength in the king’s voice grew. Dare I hope him strong enough to act?
Bathsheba moved from the shadows, her face set on her husband’s. She knelt beside him, and he took her hand once more in his.
“Beloved.” He paused, and I saw a look of love in his dark eyes such as I had never seen before or since. A seed of longing was planted in me that day, a longing for love of my own. Had anyone loved me since Ima’s passing? I could not remember such feelings, and her image had slipped long ago from memory.
“I vow to you, as surely as Adonai lives, who has delivered me out of every trouble”—the king’s voice rose in pitch—“I will surely carry out today what I swore to you by Adonai Elohei Yisrael, the Lord, the God of Israel. Solomon your son shall be king after me, and he will sit on my throne in my place.”
Tears skimmed Bathsheba’s lashes, and the king pulled her closer and brushed a stray tear from her cheek. She leaned forward and kissed him. My longing for what they shared increased.
“May my lord King David live forever!” Her voice choked the slightest on the last words.
Moments later, Zadok the priest joined Nathan and Benaiah, took orders from the king, and swept past me in their hurry to proclaim Solomon king in his father’s place.
Bathsheba lingered the longest, and I stepped away, allowing them some privacy. It appeared she would stay at the king’s side, but a few moments later she too left his chambers. Shouts were heard in the halls outside, and jubilant cries floated away on hurried footsteps.
The Shepherdess Page 4
