Athaliah, Daughter Of Jezebel

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Athaliah, Daughter Of Jezebel Page 9

by Mordechai Landsberg

The three horseriders arrived to Judea king’s palace. They bound the horses to trees’ trunks, planted in the avenue leading to the gate. They pulled out their swords from the sacks loaded on their horsebacks, inserted them into their scabbbards, and hurried to the palace gate. There they stood, waiting impatiently for the gate to be opened, and then shouting: ‘Guards, wake up!’

  The two gatekeepers recognized them and saluted, but they insisted to have an order from Lady Athaliah to let them in. She had ordered them, they said, to acknowledge her first – who would like to visit her.

  Commander Abner and another officer pushed the gatekeepers nervously by their elbows. They were hurrying to the front door, and saw one of the gurads rushing from behind. He had shouted even before he began knocking at the palace front door:

  “The Guard Kana-el is speaking. Here is Abner, the army commander. He has an urgent message to the Lady. Please let him enter.”

  Soon a maid opened the front door, and the officers entered the wide hall of the king’s palace. Four ornamented marble pillars were holding the ceiling, made of smoothed planks. The side walls were of pink marble, pasted on rough stones. In three windows, open to the air, were set vertical iron bars, to prevent an easy penetration to that place. Inside the hall was small table on the left, on which there was a jar of water and some fruits put in a colored plate.

  The three officers walked to the middle of the hall, and were waiting.

  They suddenly discerned Athaliah. She rushed into the hall from a wooden back door, that was leading to the roayal living rooms. Her motion seemed very energetic but nervous. She had rich black hair and long skirt - with a cleft that exposed her long nice leg and her gold colored sandals. She was wearing golden bracelets on her wrists.

  The two captains who joined Abner had seen her in the past, but never exchanged any words with her. Abner was the only one who had ever spoken to her and was her acquaintant. He thought: ‘if I tell her the truth about her son’s death - she will understand the catastropic situation. But I’ll try to avoid her immediate blame on us.’

  A copper made fetish snake hanging on the wall, seemed to call Athaliah’s momentary attention. She touched it, slowly caressing it like a sacred talisman. Abner thought that this move was intentional, or just intuitive. Like by that she would intend to postpone her burst of cry and excitement, when she would listen to their story.

  She was suddenly filled in a blend of anger and fear, that she had hardly experienced before. Her voice tremblrd:

  “Why have you come?” she asked them without a greet, “Where is my son, the king?”

  “We have a message, dear Lady Athaliah,” said Abner, and could not hide his lips’ quiver.

  “Yes? What is it…?”

  “Madam,” said Abner, “your son, king Ahaziah, was severely wounded...”

  “What? Where?”

  “In a battle… A captain of the Ten Tribes Army- has rebelled against your brother, king Joram. Our King Ahaziah- was with him.”

  “Don’t hide from me anything, General.” Said Athaliah, who had felt that the most terrible had arrived.

  “Dear Lady. We have seen how our beloved king, your son- has fallen.”

  “Oh, Baal. Oh, God! O’ Baal, O’ God!”

  She burst in weeping. Abner approached her, trying to hold her by the arm. But she cut off his grip, and just continued to weep aside.

  “We are all so sorry, dear lady.”

  “Oh, Merciful God! Oh, my son!” she screamed, but soon stopped – and was just looking at him.

  “The Rebel Jehu,” continued Abner, “did not spare your brother, too.”

  “What had dreaded all my life – came down… to break my neck!” Athaliah screamed again.

  However, she had suddenly stirred up her throat. Her grey blue eyes’ gaze at the three men became fierce, like a grey ironed dagger. Her voice was clear and decisive.

  “What a Shame! Shame on the Prophets, Shame on the Priests, Shame upon all Israel and Judea! Your shame too!” She pointed on the three commanders, like condemning them. She wiped up her face by her skirt’s sleeve, then turned again to the officers:

  “What shall we do now? Tell me with a pure heart: Will you fight against that devil— Jehu? I think we must defend our kingdom and our holy Jerusalem. I feel that…north Israel alone - would not be sufficient to that murderer.”

  All nodded and said: “Of course we’ll defend. We will sacrifice ourselves”.

  One of the officers, who was of medium height, and the youngest of the three, began to speak eagerly, though Abner’s hand move had tried to sign him remain silent.

  “Lady Athaliah,” he said vehemently, “Before Jehu arrives in our border- we should crown a new king. To lead the war wisely, and unite the people…”

  Abner pointed on the speaker, who was a tall officer. His grey eyes were looking fiecely and directly into the eyes of Athaliah.

  “This man is Tsuria, your late husband’s second son.”

  “Tsuria - has been in the battle with all of us,” said the third officer calmly, “and with our late king, who… we had tried to rescue.”

  Athaliah broke into a sob again, whimpering and mumbling.

  “Our hearts are with you, honorable Lady,” said Abner, “But this officer, king Ahaziah’s brother-in-law, should be annointed as king, even today!”

  “Wait,!” Athaliah like howled, “Why today? Why all this - now? My son’s blood is still wet…”

  “It is in accordance with the inheritance Rules of the kingdom!” said Abner, “Our time is short like a dagger’s edge.”

  The other officers nodded.

  Athaliah pointed on Tsuria, who saw hatred in her eyes while she shouted:

  “The king of this fellow has just been slaughtered…and he - already thinks about inheritance!”

  “We have much respect… to you, madam,“ murmured Abner, ”so, you are the first to know about our candidate, and…”.

  “God shall curse...the murderers! God will judge them. ..Enough. I thank you all for coming, officers.” She began to weep again.

  Abner tried again to hold her hand, saying:

  “Dear Lady. We should act quickly…”

  Athaliah approached the the back door, indicating she would like to leave. Abner pursued her, barring the door.

  “Gentlemen, please! Leave me alone.” She tried to push him back. He was confused, and she had intentionally shown her dissatsfaction, and get hold of the reins of their debate.

  Both remained standing at the door, as a man - dressed in a priest’s white gown rushed into the Hall from the front door. Around his forehead was a broad blue bondage-ribbon, covering also some of his front and rear hairs.

  On his gown, by the left side of his chest, there was a square patch. Embroidered on it was a black script in Hebrew letters: ”El-Sha-die”,( that means: “God” in the ancient religion’s terminology).

  The priest was named Mathan, and he was about thirty five. He rushed to the Hall’s center. Before anybody tried to react to that intervention, he was already standing adamantly between Athaliah and the officers. Abner recognized him, and nodded to him in a kind of greeting. But Mathan turned to Athaliah and spoke, breathing heavily:

  “I am sorry, Lady…of the terrible message. At dawn’s darkness we had seen a fire signal. It was sent to us from Beth El’s Temple: “Jehu – King”, it said. We’ve understood the disaster. Chief Priest Yehoyada has sent me here. He’s just declared a week of mourning. . . Woe is us!”

  “Couldn’t the honorable Chief Priest,” asked Athaliah,“arrive here personally?”

  “He was in the middle of the Temple morning ceremonies,” apologized Mathan quite mockingly, “He was sacrificing the daily lambs.”

  Athaliah nervously approached Mathan, and said provocatively.

  “Thanks for so gently selecting your words. We here –however, already deal with a very d
ifferent issue.” She pointed on Tsuria, then turned to Abner.

  “Tell your thought about …selecting a new king…to this priest ! He is the deputy to High Priest of God.”

  “This man, Tsuria,” pointed Abner, “is the brother-in-law of our late King, Ahaziah. And now - he should become the king. We have to announce it immediately to the People, and annoint him in God’s Temple.”

  “What do you think,” Mathan turned to Athaliah, “about this Claimant of the throne?”

  “I shall let you all know that…only after the funeral of my son,” she turned to the priest and then to Abner.

  “Our sorrow is as doubled, honorable Lady,” said Abner, “The corpse of our beloved King … could not be reached. It is not in our hands.”

  “You, cowards!” screamed Athaliah, “Could not you carry him - from the bloody battlefield?”

  Athaliah kneeled suddenly on the paved floor, at a stoned bench set up not far from the wall. She used it as a symbolic tombstone, to which she was stretching her arms in a “lament show”. Then she rose, approaching Abner.

  “I shall not have a grave to weep upon, to purify my soul by tears. Oh, God! Oh, Baal...”

  “Please, calm down,” said Captain Tsuria.

  “Did the king…say something, before he had died?” asked Athaliah, with a sigh.

  “No, madam. I was the last to stay near him,” remarked Abner.

  “Dear Lady, I will gain the faith of the people…if…” said Tsuria.

  Shouts were heard from outside. The officers ran to the window, to look over the courtyard and to the gate. The Gatekeepers’ Officer and some soldiers were trying to prevent a mob of about twenty people - to enter. The shouts were reiterated.

  Mathan suddenly drew a dagger out of a hidden scabbard, under his long gown. He jumped to Tsuria - and stabbed him three times in his chest and belly. His moves were very quick. The astonished officers and Athaliah only balled their eyes in a shock, as the kingly claimant Tsuria shouted and collapsed on the floor. Mathan screamed with every stab:

  “Long live the Lord of Justice! Long live the Lord. Long live the Lord!”

  Then Mathan trod on Tsuria’s body, crushed it once, and rolled it twice. He gazed at the officers who rushed to look at the blood, that oozed on their comrade’s chest. Abner grabbed Mathan by the elbow and threatened him with his dagger:

  “Away, bloody lunatic!” He said.

  “Don’t hurt me!” implored Mathan and disengaged from Abner’s grip, rushing to stand behind Athaliah, “I’ve just killed a pretender, a liar!”

  Athaliah was looking at the body, and approached it.

  “Is he really dead?” she asked. Mathan turned to the corpse, still holding the red

  dagger.

  “Forget your crown,” he shouted, “villain of the town!”

  Abner and the other officer – bent down and tried to inspect the crown claimant’s body. Abner picked out a feather out of his helmet- and put it close to the stabbed officer’s nose. The other officer tried to expose the wounds, by removing a part of the victim’s shirt. He saw it was a hopeless case.

  “No sign of life,” murmured Abner, and turned furiously to priest Mathan, “You, murderer! Why have you killed this innocent officer? We’ll bring you to justice!”

  “This honorable innocent youth,” answered Mathan, gazing at Athaliah, “had cheated you and Lady Athaliah: He was not a lawful offspring of king David’s dynasty. His mother’s adultery was well known.”

  “We know that he was a son of the old king Jehoram,” Abner pointed on Athaliah, “her husband! From his second wife, Ady-ia.”

  “We, priests,” said Mathan calmly, “know better than anyone... who had been a bastard.”

  “If there had been such rumors,” said Abner, “we, his comrades- would have known!”

  Athaliah was turning aside toward the wall. Her lips were slashed, then trembled in a short nervous smile to herself. Her eyes returned to gaze at the officers.

  “Hear, men – what the holy priest says. Not me!”

  “You are a murderer,” Abner scorned again Mathan, grabbed him by the wrist, and his comrade clapped Mathan’s palm and made his dagger fall down on the floor. He bent down and raised it, grabbing it in his hand.

  “We should set you in custody.” said Abner, and he and the other officer tried to grab Mathan - but Athaliah suddenly came nearby. Her sudden ‘swooning collapse’ helped the priest to snatch his elbows from their grip, as the two officers bolted toward her. Mathan ran away.

  The two officers whispered something to each other, and then Abner turned to Athaliah who was lying prostrate.

  “Are you well, lady?” he asked, and saw her rising slowly on her feet.

  “We are all very tired,” said Abner, more to himself than to her, “we shall take hold of him later. Justice should prevail …I shall ride home, madam. We have not slept for two nights. See you tomorrow, dear lady.”

  He pointed on the corpse: “I’ll give orders to the guards, to take him out.”

  He was leaving with his captain. Athaliah opened the door, leading to her bedroom. Soon two soldiers arrived.

  They washed the floor and took away the dead corpse of officer Tsuria.

  Athalia burst in a continual sob. It was mixed with a lament that she had learnt in her youth:

  “Oh, Ba-al, I cry for you, /I cry, please answer me./

  Hear me, Ba-al, listen mighty God! / Let thy flames fall - and extirpate thy foes.

  Let me, Ba-al, be a fire of venom / over the valley of Ben Hinom.”

  (This lyrics was adapted from lyrics of oratorio ‘Elija’ by famous composer Mendelson. Valley of Ben Hinom is Geyhinom, the Hebrew word for hell).

  While the two officers were leaving the palace, they saw that the crowd at the gate had been still in tumult. They were headed by the young handsome prophet. He was about twenty two. His name was Joseph, and his beard was only beginning to grow up. He was holding a scroll in one hand, and in the other there was a shepherd staff, which he was waving in the air. He was like speaking very personally and fervently to the gatekeepers, who avoided his entry.

  “Please, let us in. We should know what had happens here…”

  As he saw Abner, he turned to him:

  “Commander, please! What news have you brought to the king’s mother?”

  Abner pushed him back fiercely, and he and the other officer soon mounted their horses and galloped. The guards became furious. They pulled out their swords- and threatened the crowd, which was still pushing forward to enter the gate.

  One of the guards embraced very desirably the hips of a young woman, shortly dressed- by her arm. He tried to eventually kiss her, but she slapped him, soon joining the rest of her young friends. They all soon withdrew from the area, headed by the Prophet.

  An hour later, tens of people were re-gathering at the path near the palace Gate. The Gatekeepers fiercely refused to let them in. Some demonstraitors began to shouting, waving with their fists.

  Suddenly the crowd stopped arguing, having discerned three Flower Priests. They came from the town-center direction, dressed with their regular cotton robes.

  Walking quickly and drawing the crowd aside, they were calling loudly to the people who pushed each other:

  “Clear the way! Let the High Priest of God enter! Clear the way!!”

  High Priest Yehoyada, who followed them, was a man about thirty three. He was dressed in white, wearing a high ‘turban’ on his head. His wife Yehoshava joined him, severe faced. She was dressed in black. The people around discerned that her fingers wiping her wet nose and tearful eyes by her handkerchief.

  “Do you know who’s the lady?” a citizen asked his friend.

  “Yes, She is Yehosheva, our dead king’s only sister. She’s the wife of our High Priest.”

  “If so- she is fit to be our Queen, I say,” said another.

  “No, no
. The holy scriptures tell us: ‘You can make a KING to reign you’. It just means: never ever a Queen!”

  The High Priest was permitted by the gatekeepers to pass with his wife. Some greeted them, but the couple were silent and their faces remained sore.

  A moment before Athaliah had been looking from her window outside, while her maid brought her a long dark dress and was helping her to wear it. She had seen the large mob, and turned around.

  “I don’t need this mob,” she said, like contemplating, “Why had they they come? To help me in my mourning?…Who had invited those people?” she scorned her maid, who retreated from her in dread and ran to the front door, aftre she had heard a knock.

  As she opened, Yehoyada and his wife entered. When daughter Yehosheva saw her mother, her sob strengthened. They approached each other, and Athaliah – also weeping, was grasping her daughter to her bosom.

  Athaliah told the couple what she had heard from the officers. The High Priest began murmering a prayer from a Psalms scroll, that he had brought.

  An hour later the paved palace Guests’ Hall was filledl with people. Soon two servants brought a small wooden stage to the Hall center. The high Priest climbed it, indicating Flower Priests to hush the public. Yehoshaeva whispered to her mother to approach to priest and stand at his right, while she came to stay at his left. Silence had come down on the people gathering here, as the High Priest began speach:

  “Dear countrymen! Woe to us. We mourn the death of our king Ahazia. He was killed by a murderer called Jehu, a rebel who now threatens also our own country, Judea- and holy Jerusalem! It’s God’s warning: We should worship only Him, and fight for our Holy City and Temple against that atrocious monster, who had declared himself new king of the ten tribes of Israel.”

  He finshed his speech abruptly, and indicated his wife to speak.

  “The rebel Jehu wants to annihilate our both royal dynasties - of the late King Ahab in northern Israel, and of king David in Judea. We should not be intimidated by him, nor allow him to invade to our borders.”

  Athaliah was impatient to hold her speech. She indicated her daughter to change places with her. Then she walked straight to the stage center and waved with her hands toward the crowd. Some applauded her, though she had sent her hand forward – as trying to sign them stop their noise and become silent.

  “Dear people of Judea!” she tried to speak with self confidence, as a ruler reporting to his people,”We have just been informed that the murderer Jehu – had already started to lead some of his his troops toward our northern border. They will be soon threatening to conquer our land! We shall not surrender.”

  “In God’s will - we shall fight and win!” declared the High Priest.

  “In God’s will, yes,” said Athalia, quite challenging her son-in-law, “And whoever of you believes, like me – also in the idol Baal - will say: In Baal’s will.”

  A tumult of excitement burst from the crowd. Offenses against the Idols were heard, as well as a ‘counter fight’ defamations of God.

  “Mother, enough,” whispered Yehoasheva angrily to her mother, “This is a Memorial Ceremoy. You should respect our God’s religion, and not cause a split in these critical hours.”

  “The hell with you, God believers!” shouted Athaliah at her,”We have also Baal worshippers here, among the crowd. They had come to condole me, as others had come to condole you.”

  She left the the little stage in a protest, while the tumult around was growing.

  Many shouts were heard, and Yehoyada rushed after Athaliah and grabbed her sleeve. He was speaking to her something in a low tone.

  Athaliah got into the palace entry. She was applauded by some idols’ worshippers, and Yehoyada, whom she refused to listen to - walked back toward the stage. He waved his hands, indicating his disciples, young Flower Priests, who had gathered around, to return the order in the area by force.

  “Let’s not blame our late king’s mother,” he told his crowd, “She has spoken out of her bitter heart, and her deep grief. Let us all pray now and beg the Lords’ mercy.”

  He waved with the small scroll he had brought with him, unfolded it and began reading:.

  “Thou shall love God with all your heart and your soul”.

  The crowd repeated like an excited choir these words: ‘Thou shalt love God…”

  Evening dusk had already colored the sky in red sunset light in the west of small Jerusalem. Mathan was walking near the palace, outside its courtyard. He was like bending, as the wooden ladder that he grabbed in hands was quite heavy. ‘I have a tall figure a little,’ he thought, trying to avoid exposure in the area, ‘and I should fold myself, while I climb and then jump over the fence.’

  He was dressed differently than before: His arms were bare, and his developed muscles were seen quite swollen in his short shirt. On his right arm there was a tatoo of a naked woman. Her belly and breast were surrounded by a serpent, her hand holding it by the throat.

  Mathan leaned the ladder on the live bush fence, that surrounded the courtyard. He began climbing it in order to cross over it into the coutyard: His sandals’ clicked while they had already treaded the hard pavement.

  At that time of the evening, the nice maidservant of Athaliah was permitted by her mistress to refresh from her hard work. She was strolling outside the palace, singing to herself. She had known that her mistreess had tried to fall asleep, after the hard time she was having. Athaliah had only succeeded to slumber, being so numb with grief. . .

  Mathan walked cautiously and unheard behind the maid. He scared her by touching her shoulder from behind. She screamed from dread. He spoke to her calmly and gently, to cool her nerves: “Please, tell your mistress - that Mathan is here. You’ve seen me in the morning, I presume.”

  “Yes,” said the maid, “but I guess she’s asleep at last, after the painful event. I won’t wake her.”

  “she has to know it’s me, the priest. She will surely be ready to meet me. Take this coin,” He bribed the maid with a golden coin, that she had put in her pocket with trembling fingers. She had never seen in her life such coins.

  Athaliah, however, could only slumber. She was still numb with grief. Now the maid dared to walk cautiously inside the palace, and peep to her bedroom.

  The slight sandals’ rustling of the maid was heard by her mistress, who called her name loudly: “Reuma?”

  “Yes, It’s me,” the maid said.

  “Has somebody spoken to you?” asked Athaliah, “I seemed to hear your voices.”

  The maid told her it was Mathan. Athaliah ordered her to let him enter her bedroom, as she rose from her bed. She was seated on a chair thereby and waited.

  Mathan was a smart male. He knew that a bereaved mother would permit a man, almost a stranger, to enter her most intimate territory, if she is in a pressuring need of him.

  When he came in - he saw a relatively modest womanish bedroom. Sheep’s wool

  carpets were covering the floor, and the furniture included straw chairs, a wardrobe with two drawers, (maybe for cosmetics of those days) a wardrobe for the Lady’s dresses, and a wide wooden bed, that its matresse was certainly made of cotton cloth cover filled with light straw.

  Athaliah rose up and was already facing Mathan - who was bowing to her respecfully, once and twice.

  “Thank you, lady… for your permission to see again your graceful face,” he said.

  “Thank you for coming again, welcome,” she answered, resolutely.

  “This morning I have acted by my own…decision. I hope you’re aware of that, gracious Lady.”

  “Well aware! As I’m well aware – that now…you are n o t dressed like a God’s priest.”

  “Not any more!” said Mathan.

  “What d’you mean? You look now more like - a magician. Are you?”

  “Since my childhood I wanted to work out miracles and marvels and all kinds of wizard games. But the prophet, who’s educated me- was agai
nst that.”

  “So, instead of a wizard - he has made of you - a Priest of God....”

  “Yes…” he smiled grimly, “But you should know, that secretely I have continued to adore the Baal idol… Because his priests interpret events on earth- also as a result of the stars positions on the sky!” He went to the small window and discerned some big flickering star. He asked her if she knew that it might be hers, or her sign and indication.

  “Interesting,” she said, “Let’s get out – and you’ll show me what you know. Maybe teach me one day the meaning of some secret signs?”

  He felt that she had been looking at him with affection. Both crossed the wide Hall, walking to the entry door, and got out to the courtyard.

  Now Athaliah and Mathan were gazing at the stars. There were myriads. The evening’s sky was very bright at those nights, no pollution smoke clouded the sky, nor earthly electric lights illumminated the air like nowadays - and by that preventing the stars from being brightly seen.

  “The sky, I say,” said Matan, “is like a blackboard, that the gods write their plans on it with the flashing stars.”

  “Well, what message have the stars for me tonight?” asked Athaliah straightly, “A woman with a dead family – with terrible thoughts, and vague future?”

  “Don’t say so. It’ll all become clear. We’ll together have a look - on the eastern side of the sky. From there would come our message.”

  Mathan was lightly touching Athaliah’s right hand. He delicately raised it toward the sky. She had not shown any resistance to that move, and both were looking up. She was feeling his muscles and liked their touch at her.

  “Look at a group of bright stars,” said Mathan, “in the east south – very sparkling. Like they are a separate and very special group, an irregular one…”

  “Yes – I see something,” told him Athaliah, “and I’ll pray in a whisper to Baal.”

  The Fantastic Vision she saw - was a GROUP OF BRIGHT STARS ON SKY- in the following shape:

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