Daughter of the King

by Faucheux, Sharon; Havel, Carlene;

  “You cannot call us little girls.” Tirzah raised her wine as if to toast. “Today, Michal and I have proven we are women. And women of Israel, no less.”

  An undercurrent of fear ran beneath the surface of their giddiness. The king would be furious when he discovered his daughter outmaneuvered him. Those who once lived in the royal household knew only too well how vindictive King Saul could be.

  Late that afternoon, a group of twelve men shoved their way past old Zebulon into the courtyard. Leading them was Doeg, the Edomite. Michal remembered Doeg well from her days at the palace. Although his official title was chief shepherd, insiders knew he was a ruffian who did King Saul’s dirty work. Her mother, Ahinoam, always took pains to avoid this man’s venom.

  “Greetings, sir.” Michal stood straight and did not shrink from Doeg’s menacing look.

  “Where is your husband?” His words were brusque.

  “Lord David is too ill to rise from his bed.”

  “Then my men will carry the bed into our lord King Saul’s presence with your husband in it. Where is he?”

  Despite the fury in Doeg’s voice, Michal refused to tremble. “The bedroom is at the top of those stone steps.”

  Six men climbed the staircase, while Doeg and the others waited in the courtyard with folded arms. Then a voice rang out from inside the bedroom. “He’s gone.”

  “What?” After standing motionless for a moment, Doeg bounded up the steps two at a time. “What’s that you say?”

  Accompanied by shouted oaths, the wooden figurine sailed through the air. It bounced and skidded across the courtyard’s paving stones. The bedclothes, the goatskin rug, and the rolled up clothing soon followed. Finally, the bed itself came hurtling over the balcony rail.

  Doeg descended the steps and came to stand near Michal. His gravelly voice was quiet and low, in contrast to his seething features. “So, your innocent face conceals a lying tongue. When I have killed Lord David—and I will—be assured the king has promised you to a man who will teach you to be truthful.”

  Despite her best efforts, Michal trembled. Nevertheless, she did not avert her eyes from Doeg’s. I am the daughter of the king, she reminded herself. I will not let this bully stare me down.

  After Doeg and his men left, the women cleaned the courtyard and the bedroom. Old Zebulon honed his sword on the whetstone he normally used to sharpen gardening tools. Then he asked permission to send Eli to Bethlehem to gather cuttings for the household garden. Michal agreed to Zebulon’s request, although she knew plant shoots were available in the city market not far from her house.

  “It’s a strange coincidence that the cuttings you want are available only in Judea, and in my husband’s home town of Bethlehem,” Michal said. “Am I better off not knowing the true purpose of the boy’s mission?”

  “Well said, my lady,” Zebulon responded. Michal noticed a new note of respect in the old man’s manner toward her.

  At twilight, Michal sat alone on her rooftop. It was a clear, cool, cloudless evening. Although exhausted, she dreaded sleeping alone. She studied the contours of the distant mountains, wondering if her husband was on one of those craggy crests. She looked up at the stars as the darkness deepened. Those same stars were shining on her beloved, somewhere. A dove cooed softly. There was a dry, rustling sound as a light breeze breathed through the leaves of the sycamore tree in the courtyard. Michal hoped David knew what he was talking about when he said God would be his shepherd, for only the Almighty One could protect him from a determined savage like Doeg.

  After sitting and staring at the mountains for a long time, Michal reluctantly retired to her patched-up bed. She could not put the events of the day out of her mind. She didn’t bother to light the clay oil lamp beside her water jar. She lay awake and wondered what she would say when the king demanded an explanation for her behavior. Love for David was her motive, but she knew such an answer would be unacceptable. Everyone in the royal household knew King Saul counted his daughter’s affection for her husband as betrayal. Fear was something her father would understand, Michal thought. He was afraid of the most harmless actions. During his bad times, the king could interpret the most polite greeting as a veiled threat of assassination.

  She turned to face the empty space where David should be. What would her mother do if forced into this kind of situation? In spite of her apprehension, the improbable notion of her mother boldly facing a dangerous man like Doeg made Michal smile. Ahinoam’s ways were sly, not confrontational. Her approach would be to cower in silence until the danger was past. Nevertheless, her mother did have ways of getting by the king.

  Tears, Michal thought. My father hates to see my mother cry, and she knows only too well how to turn that to her advantage.

  The next morning, Michal dressed herself carefully in a long-sleeved, blue linen tunic suitable for a married princess to wear on a formal occasion. She dabbed olive oil on her lips and cheeks to make them shine, and put a fine line of charcoal dust around her eyelids. She put on her best earrings, and all her gold bangles. She slipped on the garnet ring David recently gave her, along with the gold and silver rings she wore every day. As a final touch, she draped a fine chain over her linen headdress, adjusting it so the beaten gold discs attached to the chain and overlapped each other just above her eyebrows. She expected a summons to the palace and wanted to look as regal as possible. Perhaps looking her best would bolster her courage when she had to face her father.

  Sarah found several bouquets of flowers and a pot of honey outside the street-side entrance that led through a passageway into the courtyard.

  “Where do you suppose these things came from?” Michal wondered aloud.

  Sarah shook her head. “Tributes to your bravery, I suppose.”

  “How could people outside the palace and our household possibly know of the events of yesterday?” Michal countered.

  Sarah shrugged and busied herself in the kitchen.

  Michal sat in the courtyard and waited. She tried to knit, but her hands would not cooperate. Delaying the discovery of her husband’s escape seemed like a game when she was stuffing David’s likeness under the bed clothing. However, after an encounter with Doeg, and a fitful night’s sleep, the situation felt anything but playful.

  Tirzah chatted about this and that, but Michal could not concentrate on her handmaid’s words. It was almost a relief when the contingent of royal guards arrived at mid-morning and their leader announced the king required his daughter’s presence at once.

  Guardsmen surrounded Michal. One soldier marched on her left, another to her right. There were three men behind her, three more in front, and one guardsman leading the moving square of humanity. She emerged from the courtyard to find the women of her neighborhood standing across the street, arms folded. As Michal passed them, one said loudly, “Good morning, Princess Michal!”

  “Good morning,” she responded, doing her best to sound brave.

  “God be with you, my lady,” a young mother called from an upstairs window.

  “And with your husband, the good Lord David,” a matron with folded arms added defiantly. The guardsmen ignored the women, and kept a brisk pace. Michal began to regret wearing her best sandals. They were pretty, but the straps were new and stiff. Before long, she could feel several spots on her feet and ankles being rubbed raw.

  The road to the palace wound through narrow streets near the marketplace. All along the way, people shouted encouragement as they watched the procession of royal guardsmen herding the princess toward the palace. Along many stretches of road, young girls sang the popular song that praised David’s military prowess. Saul has slain his thousands, and David his ten thousands, resounded from house to house. A small boy dashed between the soldiers to hand Michal a welcomed jar of cool water to drink. A guard shouted a curse at the boy, but did not confiscate the water. With growing apprehension, she slowed her steps and sipped the water.

  Crowds of observers grew larger. Near the market, there were as
many men as women watching from the sides of the road. As the streets narrowed into the oldest section of the city, Michal rounded a corner and saw a flock of at least a hundred sheep coming toward her. The guard leader ordered the shepherds to let him pass. The young men nodded their heads obediently, but the task was hopeless. Swimming in sheep, the guardsmen and Michal’s progress slowed, and then stopped. My husband would have his flock under better control, she thought.

  The swearing, sweating guard leader threaded his way through the bleating animals and motioned his men to follow. As the group stretched out single file, people along the street emerged from their houses and joined the melee. An old man yelled at the guardsmen that the noise was disturbing his sick child. Meanwhile, a woman wearing a plain tunic appeared next to Michal. “Your husband is safe,” she said, and faded into the crowd before the princess could see her face.

  CHAPTER

  ELEVEN

  “.. AND DOEG THE EDOMITE TURNED, AND HE FELL UPON THE PRIESTS, AND SLEW…BOTH MEN AND WOMEN, CHILDREN AND SUCKLINGS, AND OXEN, AND ASSES, AND SHEEP, WITH THE EDGE OF THE SWORD.” I SAMUEL 22:18,19

  King Saul reclined against the purple cushions that lined the raised platform at the end of his ceremonial chamber with his advisors on a lower tier, flanking the king on both sides. Michal had been in this room many times. How many petitioners, supplicants, and accused criminals once crouched in exactly the same place where she herself now kneeled? Were they as careful as she to keep a respectful distance from the front of the royal platform?

  The king glowered at her. “You have deceived me, Daughter,” he roared. “Why did you help my enemy escape?”

  “I was afraid, my king,” Michal spoke softly. “My husband is strong. He could easily have killed me if I refused to help him. What chance would a weak woman have against a soldier of my lord the king?” She tilted her face upward to look at her father. The blisters on her feet burned painfully, and the king’s face was a thundercloud. It was not difficult to produce the tears that oozed slowly, one by one, down her cheeks. “I would never willingly do harm to you, my father and my king.” She longed to assure her father that David, too, was a loyal subject. But she knew any favorable mention of David would incite King Saul’s fury.

  The king stared at Michal for what seemed to be a very long time. When he spoke, the angry edge was gone from his voice. “You have become so like your mother, Michal. You have those same beautiful eyes. How well I remember the night you were born. Your mother wept, saying she had disappointed me with a second daughter. That seems so long ago now. Those were good days. God was with me then. That was before He turned his back on me and the love of my people turned to bitterness. Before my own family turned treacherous. I have made this nation strong, but where is the man who shows me loyalty? All of you conspire against me.” He met the eyes of the men around him. “Do you think I don’t know? Am I a fool?” the king screamed. “You, Jonathan, my own flesh and blood, in league with that son of Jesse. All of you want me dead, so you can move forward with your own evil plans.” King Saul gestured toward Michal, shouting, “Take her away!” Guardsmen stepped immediately to either side of Michal.

  “My king,” Abner began. Michal dared not glance toward her uncle.

  “Silence!” Saul commanded. “Take her to her mother. They are like twin vipers, gnawing at my flesh.”

  Michal never knew whether it was the king’s idea or someone else’s suggestion that she not be allowed to return to her home. After a week, Sarah and Tirzah quietly moved into the royal residence to join her. Michal was grateful for their comforting presence in a household that seemed increasingly hostile. She quickly adopted her mother’s tactic of avoiding King Saul, never knowing whether he would be jovial or furious.

  Private conversations were difficult to arrange. There was always the danger that someone listened near a door or behind a curtain, waiting to gain favor by reporting a secret learned through eavesdropping. The courtyard garden was lovely, but its low walls and hedges afforded far too many hiding places to risk talking there.

  Michal took to walking through the long meadow behind the palace each morning. She and Tirzah would stroll down to the brook, dangle their feet in the cool water, and reluctantly return to the oppressively paranoid atmosphere of King Saul’s house.

  One bright, sunlit morning, Michal and Tirzah were enjoying their daily walk along the edge of the brook. Suddenly their old gardener stepped from behind a tree.

  “Zebulon!” His name escaped her lips before Michal remembered to look around and check for observers.

  The old man grinned. “Greetings, my ladies.”

  “What brings you here?” Michal asked apprehensively, hoping her old employee was not the bearer of bad news.

  “Prince Jonathan wishes to speak to you, at a place he calls the forbidden stone.”

  “Thank you, Zebulon. I know you are taking a big risk by delivering a message to me.”

  “Lord David has always been a kind master,” was Zebulon’s reply.

  Michal and Merab named a broad, flat outcropping of rock the forbidden stone years ago. As children they were told not to wander beyond the brook. However, they loved to go a little past their limit to sun themselves on that rock.

  Michal quickly made her way up the opposite bank of the brook, through a thicket of trees, to the forbidden stone. She was glad to see her brother waiting alone.

  Jonathan embraced Michal. “I hope you are well, little sister.”

  “Yes, considering.” She searched his face. “Do you have news of David? Is my husband all right? You look so tired. What’s wrong?”

  “By God’s grace, my friend David is alive and well.”

  “How long can he keep evading the king’s killers?” Michal asked as she settled beside her brother on the flat rock. “There’s a rumor being whispered through the palace that a group of holy men were murdered for giving David food and shelter. Please tell me that didn’t happen.”

  Jonathan shook his head. “I’m afraid this story is true, and more gruesome than you’ve heard. After the holy men of Nob showed kindness to David, that beast Doeg went into the city and butchered them. Then he murdered their wives and children as well, even helpless babies. When he ran out of human victims, he slaughtered the priests’ animals.”

  Michal shuddered. “How can our father permit such sacrilege?”

  “The man we know as our father is rarely with us these days,” Jonathan said. “Michal, you did a very brave thing, covering for David until he could make good his escape.”

  “I wish I were a man with a sharp sword and a strong arm.” Michal thrust her fist into the air. “I’d kill any man that so much as cast a threatening look at David.”

  Jonathan grinned. “I’m sure you would be a dedicated bodyguard. But I’m equally convinced Lord David is grateful you are not a man.”

  Michal laughed for the first time in many days. “Well, you know what I mean. I wish I could protect him.”

  Jonathan looked away. “Most of the king’s troops pursue David without enthusiasm, knowing he’s done nothing wrong. A good number have defected and gone into hiding with him. This man Doeg is different.” Jonathan scratched at the stone with his knife blade. “He’s brutal, ruthless. He kills for pleasure. If I can somehow stop Doeg, David will have a chance to live.”

  “Maybe our father will recover, and he will welcome David home. He has forgiven me, after all.”

  “Don’t fool yourself, Michal. Father will deal with you in his own good time. He has made it known you will remarry as soon as he gets word of David’s death. I think he views that as the beginning of your punishment for loving your husband more than your father.”

  “No!”

  “It may even be that the king has already made a rash promise. Doeg seems to be convinced if he can kill David, you will be his reward.”

  “I’d rather die.” Michal was near tears at the thought of belonging to anyone but David.

  “You would
be better off dead than under the heel of that monster.” Jonathan leaned his head back until his face pointed directly to the sky. “I’m sorry I’ve upset you. These are difficult times.” He stood abruptly. “I’ll get information to you as often as I can. I have to get back now, before I am missed.”

  “Thank you, Jonathan. I know how dangerous this is for you. I’m glad you’re my brother. David is fortunate to have so loyal a friend.”

  “I hope I can be half the friend to him that he has been to me,” Jonathan said. “Your husband has saved my life more than once in the heat of battle, and I have done the same for him. There’s a special bond between men who have fought side by side in mortal combat. I don’t know that anyone can understand it unless they’ve been through the same intense experience.” He hugged her, and slipped into the trees.

  “Jonathan,” she called after her brother, “don’t forget to tell David I love him.”

  Michal was bitterly disappointed when her monthly bleeding came upon her. Her time was more than a week past due, and she hoped with all her heart to be carrying David’s child. Her disappointment was magnified by the sure knowledge that the word of her retreat to the unclean room would be the subject of whispered conversations throughout the women’s section of the palace. Her mother would hear the news, and before long King Saul would be assured his daughter was not pregnant.

  Michal missed David’s company, the intimacies whispered in the darkness of their rooftop, the warmth of his body against hers. She ached for the tenderness she had never known from anyone but her husband.

  When the menstrual bleeding stopped and she was cleansed, the princess returned to her room to find new clothing being arranged on her bed by Miriam, one of Ahinoam’s servant women. Michal examined the dress. It was too bright for her taste, and not quite modest enough for a married woman. “Why are you here?” she asked. “Whose clothing is this? Where is Tirzah?”