His eyes swept the room. Across the bearskin rug stood a sturdy table. The man he sought hunched over it. “Ahithophel.”
The aide looked up from the scrolls he studied. “Your highness, I didn’t expect you back so soon.”
“Where are my scribes?”
The man’s eyebrow rose. “You dismissed them, sire.”
“Yes. Well, I have a very important decree to issue. Summon the scribes at once.”
“Begging your pardon, my lord, but isn’t this a bit sudden?”
“Of course it’s sudden. Isn’t everything urgent sudden?” David could no longer hold back the grin spreading across his face. “Summon the scribes, my friend. Then I shall tell you the news.”
Clapping his adviser on the back, he again took Bathsheba’s hand and strode toward the court.
Ahithophel scrambled after them, barking the order over his shoulder. “Sire, please, what is this so urgent decree? What news? Is something wrong?”
David faced his friend as the guards opened the court’s great doors. “No, my friend, not wrong, but something glorious. Come.”
He settled on his throne, motioning Bathsheba to sit beside him. Ahithophel never could abide suspense, and his pained expression amused David.
“My king, I could serve you better if you would enlighten me.”
David opened his arms wide and lifted his gaze toward the heavens. “I am going to be an abba. Blessed be the name of the Lord!” His jubilant cry echoed through the corridor.
A puzzled frown crossed Ahithophel’s face. Then his eyes drifted to Bathsheba. “Ah, mozel tov. Long life and happiness to the prince and his mother.”
Shuffling in the doorway interrupted their conversation. Five scribes tiptoed into the hall, holding their writing instruments close to their chests.
David clapped twice. “It’s about time. Take down a decree from the king.”
Parchment rustled, and ink sloshed as the scribes scrambled to ready their tools. David extended a stocky finger toward the city as he issued his command. The scribes copied out his words and presented the documents. After David implanted his seal into the wax of each copy, the messenger carried them out of the hall. Horsemen would be waiting to carry the edict to each province of the land. Word would spread quickly, and he wouldn't have to wait long for tradesmen to begin flowing into the city.
*****
Absalom’s resolute step carried him swiftly toward the court. His long tresses, curly like his father’s, bounced against his broad shoulders. Could what Mother said be the truth? He refused to believe his father would plan to make Bathsheba’s child his heir. For twenty years he had worked to become his father’s favorite. She must have heard wrong. She did say she was a distance away as they spoke. He rounded the corner and entered the hall adjoining the throne room. A group of scribes stood in his way.
“You go in first. You’re the one who has served the king the longest.”
“He threw us out moments ago. Now he wants us back?”
Absalom rolled his eyes and brushed past them.
“I am going to be an abba! Blessed be the name of the Lord.”
Absalom froze. The words unmistakably shouted in the king’s voice. His father’s voice.
He barely noticed the scribes bumping into him as they scurried through the doorway into the throne room. What could he mean by that? Was he not an abba already? Even with six sons?
Regaining his senses, Absalom peered around the door left ajar in the rush. King David’s chest swelled. His finger extended toward where Absalom stood obscured by the door.
“Let it be written and posted throughout every city in the land of Israel: every craftsman skillful in the art of weaving is summoned to the palace in Jerusalem. The king and queen desire to fashion swaddling clothes for the prince of the house of David. The cloths will be of the finest thread, created from the best of every land. The craftsman selected will be paid a royal wage. A decree from David, king of Israel.”
Swaddling clothes of the finest? Crafted from every land? Bile rose in Absalom’s throat. His mother had been right. His own father was conspiring against his reign, in complete disregard of his heritage. He could not allow this. Something must be done. Something—but what?
This is the end of the excerpt, but you can keep on reading!
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Acknowledgments
First of all, I would like to thank my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He is the real Author; I am merely a vessel. I have seen His hand at work every step of the way. In truth, the only thing that's good in me is Jesus.
I would also like to thank my family, my critique partners, my cover designer, Roseanna White, and so many others have helped make this story into what it is. I am so thankful for each of these individuals! If I tried to mention them all and thank them as they deserve, it would take a book of its own. I cannot thank them enough for the investment that they've made into my life and writing.
A special thank you to my editor, Deirdre Lockhart, whose encouragement and advice have helped make this book everything it could be.
But most of all, a HUGE THANK YOU to all of my friends and readers! This project would be impossible without your support! Thank you for caring, reading, sharing, and your encouraging words. The fact that you would take time out of your day to read my work or send me a comment is such an honor for me. By sharing these stories with your friends, you have given me the greatest compliment possible.
THANK YOU!
Author’s Note
Thank you for joining me in my first-ever mystery! I hope you enjoy it.
Solve by Christmas deals with a very sensitive issue, that of depression and suicide. This has become a worldwide epidemic and one of the leading causes of death in all ages, but especially the ages of 10-24. My prayer is that through Jasper and Mr. Rudin’s story, you will come to know the hope and joy that is to be found in Jesus Christ and the power of His Holy Spirit. For it is as the street preacher said, “When your life is no longer worth living, when you’re washed up with nothing left, give your life to Christ, and He will give you His. What an exchange that is, my friend! Because He lives, our lives have meaning. Perhaps you’ve believed there is no reason. There is no hope. But Christ died to give you a different path. Not our works. Not what others say we are. Not what we say we are. But what the King of Heaven and Earth says we are. You may say you’re a failure. Others may agree. But Christ says you’re worth everything, and His is the judgment that counts.”
If you have not yet discovered this hope, I would be glad to introduce you to the power that changed my life and made it worth living.
Or if you would merely like someone to bind with you in prayer, whether it is for yourself or someone you love, my family and I would be honored to pray with and for you. I can also add you to our church prayer list if you so desire.
Feel free to contact me through my website, http://www.amberschamel.com/, or send me an email.
Also, if you have been contemplating suicide, I hope you will take the time to watch this Youtube video right away. Your life has meaning. You are worth more than 10,000 worlds like this one. Please, do not take your life.
1 2 Sam 11:1
2 2 Sam 11-12
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