Queen of Sheba

by Roberta Kells Dorr

The queen was suddenly tired. She needed to rest if she was to make the long trip to Jericho on the next day. She decided to wait and see for herself.

  Late that night Solomon was in the small quarters of his chief clerk looking over the lists of men that were to send supplies to the palace for the next month. He was holding the parchment and studying the lists when to his surprise it was snatched from his hands rather roughly. At the same time there was the familiar chattering exuberance of his little monkey. The agile creature bounded from the low floor-level writing desk to the window lattice and then to the lintel above the door.

  The clerk was obviously frightened of the boisterous little animal, and he cringed in a corner while Solomon, losing all dignity, stood begging and coaxing the little fellow to come down. The monkey turned his head and ignored all pleading. Several pages heard the commotion and came to see what was happening. They also tried and couldn’t coax him down.

  Finally some of the older counselors crowded into the small room to see what was happening. “He’s frightened now. We’ll never get him down like this.” Solomon was obviously enjoying the challenge. “We must find something the little creature likes more than the parchment. He’ll never give it up otherwise.”

  The men looked at each other and shrugged. “Who would know what a strange creature like that would find more interesting?” one of them asked.

  “Why, it’s quite simple. He loves a juicy coconut. Run, page, and crack one open for him. You’ll see, he’ll probably snatch it out of your hand.”

  When the page brought the coconut and the men saw how quickly the monkey dropped the parchment and sprang down to claim his prize, they whispered among themselves, “See, it’s uncanny how he manages the animals.”

  Solomon sent one of the pages to bring Nathan to him. There were delicate matters to be decided, and he needed his brother’s help. He had received word just a short time before the episode in the clerk’s quarters that his men had freed the queen of Sheba and she would be heading for Jericho the next day. He wanted Nathan to go to Jericho and welcome her and then bring her to Jerusalem with all the pomp and splendor she would certainly expect.

  When Nathan came to Solomon’s bedchamber he found him strangely morose.

  “This queen from Sheba,” he said, “will be in Jericho within the next few days. I want you to go and make her welcome in my winter palace. Let her rest there for a few days. She probably needs it after the ordeal at Petra.”

  “She may be beautiful,” Nathan said.

  “What difference does that make?”

  “I’ve never known you to avoid a beautiful woman.”

  “But this one …”

  “I know, I know. You told me about her feet. Of course I don’t believe it.”

  “Then you’ll go?”

  “You know you can depend on me but I have a better idea.”

  “A better idea?”

  “It’s quite important that the queen see Solomon at his best. I think you should go and meet her in Jericho without the crowds and curious members of the court. You need to get away and Jericho is such a pleasant change.”

  “It won’t be pleasant with a queen to entertain. No, I’d rather you go. I’m not my usual self these days.”

  With that Nathan was dismissed, but he went away feeling it would be much better for Solomon to ride down to the lovely winter palace and meet this queen there. She held their fate in her hands. If she sided with Solomon’s enemies, all would be lost. On the other hand … Nathan knew there was no use thinking about it once Solomon had made up his mind.

  To Nathan’s surprise, Solomon finally decided to go down himself to his winter palace in Jericho to meet the queen. The brothers had stopped by the treasury after the early morning sacrifice and Nathan had reminded him, “This is going to be a very important visit. You need to go yourself. If it goes well, the queen of Sheba will stand with you against the coalition. With Jeroboam in Egypt just waiting for your overthrow, you’ll need all the support you can get.”

  Solomon knew that what Nathan said was true, but there had been one question bothering him and it had blotted out all other plans and strategies. “If God has rejected me as king,” he asked, “is it even worth trying? Won’t everything I do fail?”

  “The kingdom is not to be lost during your lifetime. It would also be well to remember that some of the greatest blessings have come through those who have failed but didn’t give up.”

  Solomon was unconvinced. “Name some,” he said.

  “Well, Abraham took Hagar because he didn’t quite believe the promise; Jacob stole his brother’s birthright; Joseph was such a braggart he got thrown out by his brothers; Moses killed an Egyptian and …”

  “Enough. That’s enough. What does that have to do with my going down to the winter palace in Jericho?”

  Solomon was so serious, Nathan had to laugh. “Well, sometimes it’s hard for God to bless people when they sit around depressed.”

  “So you think I might miss some good thing if I don’t personally go greet this queen?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just saying that if you want blessings, you have to be looking for them, expecting them almost.”

  Solomon had already ordered vast preparations to be made for the queen’s visit. A camping area had been set aside for her caravan on Mount Olivet, a new house had been added to and refurnished for her within the palace gardens, the royal treasury had been searched for appropriate gifts, and several tours of the chariot cities planned. All these preparations had been made by Solomon’s able body of servants so that Solomon had done very little real thinking about her visit.

  Now Nathan’s words struck a chord of hope. He didn’t even know what he was hoping for, he just knew that he would go down to Jericho and meet this queen who had traveled so far to see him. “Badget says she is coming to ask questions. She wants to know what truth is. Have you ever heard of a woman thinking about truth?”

  Nathan laughed. “Not in all your harem is there one woman asking such a question. This queen must be unusual.”

  “Probably ugly, balding, and remember the feet.”

  “She can’t be that bad. Hadad was trying to marry her.”

  Solomon shrugged and smiled. He didn’t say any more, but when he returned to his palace, he ordered preparations for the visit to the winter palace in Jericho.

  The winter palace was Solomon’s favorite retreat. Because the weather was always temperate, the palace was open to the sun and fresh air. There were covered walkways and latticed balconies that opened onto a lush formal garden. There were fountains and pools shaded by palm trees, while every now and then a peacock could be seen with feathers unfurled against the deep green foliage.

  As soon as he arrived he found a message waiting for him. The queen had accepted his invitation to be a guest in the winter palace and she would be arriving that evening. However, as she was feeling indisposed she asked that there be no ceremony.

  He wondered what she meant by “no ceremony” and finally concluded that he need not order a great feast or plan a celebration. He would simply meet her, welcome her, and put her into the hands of his chief steward and the servants who would carry out her slightest wish.

  Later that day, just before sunset, he was on one of his balconies talking to some emissaries from Rabbath Amman when a wild flourish of trumpets announced the queen’s caravan. He quickly dismissed the men and went to view the arrival. He noticed that she had left a large part of her entourage outside the city and brought only her own serving maidens, some counselors, and her bodyguard with her.

  It was easy to recognize her howdah. Solomon had never seen anything like it. It was covered in gold embroidered cloth set about with precious stones, and the harness and fittings on her camel were all of gold and rubies. Light from the setting sun glinted and sparkled from its dazzling surface until it seemed almost a vision of ethereal radiance.

  Solomon was fascinated. He moved out to the balustrade of the balcony
so he could see her when she dismounted. “What kind of creature must it be that would come wrapped in such a splendid cocoon?” he thought.

  He hurried down the marble stairs and then walked with dignity befitting his kingly position out to the steps leading down to the drive. He was just in time to see the driver jump down and order the camel to kneel.

  There was only a pause and then the curtains were parted from inside. Solomon noticed nothing but the woman that looked out at him. He who had seen many princesses and hundreds of beautiful women was for a moment spellbound. One small, jeweled hand still held the embroidered curtain, and the golden ornaments that framed her face made a pleasant tinkling sound as she leaned forward to view the new surroundings. Then she noticed him. Their eyes met and held briefly as her face registered delight. “And you are Solomon’s brother, Nathan,” she said to cover her embarrassment.

  Solomon remembered that with the invitation he had told her his brother would be her host. He was about to explain that he wasn’t Nathan when he changed his mind and made a quick decision. Perhaps it would be better for the moment to let her think he wasn’t the king. Maybe then they wouldn’t drift into the formal aloofness he so despised.

  He smiled the relaxed, boyish smile that had over the years endeared him to so many and reached for her hand to help her alight. The servants were surprised. They had never seen the king so forget himself as to help someone down from a mount. For a moment he stood holding her hand and again their eyes met in wonder and fascination. She wasn’t more beautiful than dozens of women in his harem, but there was something of openness, excitement, and zest for life that radiated from her, and he was immediately captivated.

  He found himself wanting to stay by her side instead of retreating to his quarters as he had planned. He was glad the steward had ordered an impressive repast.

  To everyone’s surprise he stayed and exhibited uncommon devotion to the queen. He sat beside her, his elbow unconsciously resting on the same armrest, his eyes brightening when he looked at her, and an animation in his voice that hadn’t been heard in a long time.

  The repast was being held on one of the wide balconies. The air was fresh and pleasant with the fragrance of tuberoses, birds called to each other in the trees and as the sun slowly disappeared, torches were lit along the wall. The moon rose over the tall palm near the gate, and laughter could be heard from one end of the group to the other.

  The food was spread out on finely woven, gold-washed reed mats in golden dishes. The officials the queen had brought with her, including Rydan, Tamrin, and Il Hamd, sat on ordinary long cushions that lined each side of the woven centerpiece. Though they couldn’t hear what was being said, they were obviously astounded by the animation of their queen in the company of this Hebrew.

  When the light meal was over and the guests were ready to retire, both Solomon and the queen seemed reluctant to part. It was only when she noticed her maidens waiting patiently with their small lamps all lit that she brought the conversation to a close. Solomon, for his part, stood watching them go down the long hall and didn’t move until the lights had at last vanished into the room.

  Back in his own quarters he puzzled over all that had happened. Of course she still thought he was Nathan, and it would be difficult now to tell her any differently. He wondered how the evening would have gone if she had known he was the king. He also wondered if she was always as animated, as vitally alive. He had gotten so carried away that he had to admit he hadn’t even looked at her feet. In fact, as well as he could remember, he hadn’t noticed much of anything but her wonderfully expressive eyes, her full, curving mouth, and her slightly exposed shoulders.

  He felt such a mixture of strange, unfamiliar emotions he had trouble understanding what was happening. He couldn’t really analyze what he was feeling. There was a great fascination with everything she said or did, and then there was an overwhelming desire to be intimate with this woman. To possess her in every way. This frightened him.

  She was no ordinary woman. She was a queen, and a pagan queen at that. After the reprimand in the temple, he had resolved never to marry another pagan woman. He felt just about as strongly about marrying a queen. One didn’t possess queens. They possessed you.

  He resolved to quench the fire while it was still possible. He even considered getting up early and riding back to Jerusalem. Then he realized it would be very inhospitable. He remembered for the first time that evening that he desperately needed this woman’s backing if he was to combat the coalition.

  For a moment he wished that it really had been Nathan that had come down to Jericho. Then just as quickly he realized that if Nathan had come he himself would have been back in his palace in Jerusalem battling his depression and sense of failure.

  No, he decided, he wouldn’t trade this one evening for anything, but he must remember to be careful. He felt utterly vulnerable. In just these few short hours this woman had brought him out of the most desperate depression and had pitched him into such a turmoil of emotions that he was thoroughly disturbed. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. His one love, the Shulamite maiden, had been sincere and beautiful but immature compared with this. This emotion was not something an experienced man like himself should be feeling. It was too much for one his age to handle.

  He let his serving men help him undress and then pull back the curtains of his bed. His bed was a welcome retreat. He hoped that with the clear light of morning this madness would have dissipated.

  He tossed and turned and tried to forget her eyes, her laughter, her delightful way of seeming both shy and yet forceful. Suddenly in the midst of these memories he had a fearful thought. He sat up in the bed and rubbed his eyes, ran his fingers through his hair, and wrestled with this thought that was so new for him. “What,” he thought, “will I do if she doesn’t feel the same toward me? Surely I can’t endure such a thing.” This too was a new thought for him. In recent years he had thought more often of whether he liked a woman rather than whether she liked him.

  The next morning he rose early and went out into the formal garden. He needed to clear his mind, needed to remember he was dealing with a queen who held the fate of Israel in her hands. This could be no pleasant dalliance. He breathed deeply of the invigorating air and walked down the path to the grape arbor.

  Suddenly his attention was drawn to a line of ants that crossed his path and wound their way to a sandy spot near the trellis. He stooped down and watched. Ants always fascinated him. They worked so hard. They never seemed to rest, and they would tackle the most impossible feats. Now he pulled out a small crust of bread he had saved for his pet crow and, breaking off a small piece, put it in the ants’ path.

  “I’ve always found ants to be most interesting.” The voice was soft and melodious.

  He would have known that voice anywhere. He turned and saw that the queen was standing on the path with one of her maidens shielding her from the morning sun with one of the elaborate plumed fans used by the Egyptians. He stood up and smiled. “If my people worked as hard,” he said, “the whole world would be a paradise.”

  They laughed and then both stooped down to see if the ant would really carry away the little piece of bread. “How small they are,” she said. “They should be afraid we’ll step on them, but they don’t seem to even know we exist.”

  Solomon let one of the little creatures crawl onto his finger. They both stood up and watched him make his way round and round the finger. “It is only Elohim, our creator God, who could make such a perfect creature this size.”

  “Elohim? Is that the name of your God?”

  “That is the name we give Him when we think of Him as creator.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Solomon stood looking at her for a long moment before he spoke. “We have many names for the same God. Each time he shows himself it is in a different way and we add another name. When we see that He fights for us He is El Shaddai, the Almighty, when he provides for us He is Jeho
vah-Jireh, when He heals us, Jehovah Rapha. There are more.”

  “I have come with many questions for your brother.”

  “So I’ve heard. What do you intend to ask?”

  She stood up abruptly and became very serious. Solomon put the ant back down and stood up beside her and they started to walk toward the grape arbor before she spoke. “I want to know so many things,” she said. “Where does the rain come from? What makes the wind blow? Why can some things like snakes kill a person? Why are animals and birds afraid of people?”

  She stopped to catch her breath and Solomon laughed. “You think he can answer all those questions?”

  “Maybe not all, but some, and those aren’t the most important questions.”

  “The most important? What are the most important questions?”

  “Why does Solomon have to obey a law? Which is stronger, good or evil? But most important, what is truth and how can we know what is true and real? How, for instance, can we be sure we are worshiping the true God?”

  Solomon was astounded. These were questions he had pondered. He had never known another man to ask such questions, and here was a woman, a frail, beautiful woman asking them. “I hope you won’t be disappointed.”

  She laughed. “At least he can tell me if he keeps the four winds under his throne.”

  “You heard that I … that he keeps the four winds …” Solomon burst out in a jolly laugh. “I’m sure he can answer that easily. He may ask in turn that you tell him if the queen of Sheba has the feet of a donkey.”

  “The feet of a donkey! How ridiculous. He has heard that I have the feet of a donkey?”

  “Yes. One of the traders said he had seen them with his own eyes.”

  She laughed and lifted her skirt just enough to show the dainty feet encased in jeweled sandals. “I can’t imagine …” she started to say and then stopped and thought. “Of course, my throne is made of alabaster and the legs of the throne are carved into the hooves of a bull. When my skirt is wide it could look as though …” She laughed again. This time almost boisterously. “I’ll wager it’s your trader Badget that’s made this report.”