“I am Tozah. My tent is over there.” The old woman gestured toward the valley. “You should stop by before you leave.”
“Perhaps some other time,” Michal said. “We must get home by nightfall.” She was not in the mood to visit, and the words about trying to buy a blessing still rankled her. Nevertheless, the old woman did her a favor by forcing the merchant to strike a fair bargain.
“Next time, then. Anyone can direct you to my tent.” Tozah grinned. “I am always here.”
Michal and Rizpah followed Obediah to the entrance of the place of worship. Eliab’s son was hardly old enough to grow a beard, but he was a male relative. Therefore, he would transact business with the priest on Michal’s behalf.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX
“AND AS THE ARK OF THE LORD CAME INTO THE CITY OF DAVID, MICHAL SAUL’S DAUGHTER LOOKED THROUGH A WINDOW, AND SAW KING DAVID LEAPING AND DANCING BEFORE THE LORD; AND SHE DESPISED HIM IN HER HEART.” II SAMUEL 6:16
Michal sat alone in her dark bedchamber, looking out toward the mountains but not seeing them. Countless offerings did not produce the son she so fervently prayed for. Wearing face enhancement and less modest clothing did not bring her to David’s bed often enough. Imitating Maachah’s suggestive walk and flirtatious manner brought occasional success, but there were so many obstacles. David pushed Israel’s borders ever outward. His increasing wealth, power, and military might came at the price of extended absences from home.
When the king was in residence, matters of government took most of his time and energy. He spent his mornings at the city gate, listening to citizens’ pleas and dispensing judgment. Afternoons were consumed by meetings in the public room of the palace, conferences with military advisors, and visits from foreign kings or their emissaries. Michal could not remember the last time the wives and children enjoyed private time or even a meal with King David.
Wives and concubines competed fiercely for a summons to visit the royal bedchamber. Maachah’s dancing was a thing of the past. There was no longer any opportunity to use song, dance, or interesting conversation to gain favor with the king. Flattery and flaunting were the weapons of choice. The clique of young wives led by Kerah would wait for days in a corridor or the courtyard for a glimpse of King David. They would bow, and scrape, and giggle with delight at his smile, all the while slyly seducing him with their eyes. As if that were not bad enough, an even younger group of wives and insolent concubines appeared on the palace rooftop in shocking attire.
How dared they display their shapely bodies, openly discussing how the king would take notice from the vantage point over his elevated bedchamber? Michal seethed each time she saw a servant escort one of the brazen women to the king’s bedchamber.
The evening before, Michal returned from the stream at twilight. While mixing colors, she failed to notice the daylight slipping away. She put her pots into the storage alcove inside the courtyard. Although she did not intend to eavesdrop, the hushed voices of women opposite a cluster of bushes caught her attention.
“How old do you think she is?”
“At least thirty.”
“Someone told me thirty-five.”
“No! That old? You can’t mean it. At her age she should give up, like those other old rags, and stop making a fool of herself.”
“She can’t, because she doesn’t have any children.”
“What? Not even a daughter? Well, then, she’s barren. Cursed. She may as well wash that paint off and face facts.”
“Maybe she thinks she’s like our ancestor, Sarah, who conceived a son when she was ninety.”
In the wake of the muffled giggles, Michal walked noisily through the courtyard. She turned to look directly into two stunned faces she vaguely recognized as belonging to concubines. At least they had the decency to drop their eyes.
“Good evening,” Michal said evenly.
“Good evening, my lady,” they replied in meek unison.
Michal fretted and fumed as she sought the comfort of her own room. This family has become as uncharitable as the house of Phaltiel, she told herself. Will idol worship be next? She ate some cheese in her bedchamber and shunned the community meal that evening. She knew it was a mistake to allow her humiliation to remind her of life at Gallim. The evil dreams came less often now than in Hebron, but they still held the power to haunt her.
“Ah, my beloved wife Michal comes to me with her virginal handmaid. I will take delight from two beautiful women this evening.” Phaltiel’s slurred words flooded into her memory. “Miss Tirzah, I will command your mistress to demonstrate what I have shown her of the lost arts of Sodom. Then I will repay her with the joy of ministering to you as I teach you what it means to be a woman. Tell me, Miss Tirzah, do you know of the mystical bond between pain and pleasure?”
“My lady, awaken! It is only a dream.”
Michal slowly became aware of Rizpah shaking her shoulder. She sat up in bed, and shuddered as if to chase away every memory.
“Shall I bring you something? You didn’t eat enough to keep a squirrel alive this evening.”
“No, I don’t want anything.” Michal was relieved to see shapes of familiar objects in the dark chamber. “Try to go back to sleep, Rizpah. I’m sorry I disturbed you. Thank you for awakening me.”
She lay motionless for a long while, giving anyone who may have heard her moans time to resume their night’s rest. Then Michal arose from her bed, and sat staring out the window.
In times past, Tirzah would have sat with her. The two of them would have talked about their childhood, or the beauty of the mountains reflecting starlight, or the curious way a beetle ambled across the floor. But Tirzah was gone, and Rizpah could never be an intimate friend.
On another night, Michal might have prayed that the man Joash would be kind, that he would not ask too many questions when the dreams came to terrorize Tirzah, that he would hold his wife close enough to hear his beating heart and whisper that she was safe with him. Now Michal was angry at the Living God who continued to deny her heart’s desire for an heir to her father’s throne. She would beg no more favors from Him.
Today, there would be a celebration such as the city had never seen. David recaptured the Ark of the Covenant from the heathens. This very morning, the king would bring this most sacred national treasure into Jerusalem. Michal knew she should be elated, but she could find no trace of happiness within herself.
“Ah, my lady, you are up early. You must be as eager as everyone else for the big day to begin.” Rizpah bustled about, tidying Michal’s already immaculate bedchamber. “The other ladies are already gathering on the rooftop. There’s a fine view of the city gate from there. We shall be able to see everything. Will you have some breakfast?”
“No. No, thank you, Rizpah. I’m not hungry.”
“It’s no wonder you are so thin. You never take enough nourishment. Not at all like your mother. She enjoyed a good meal, even when she was ill.” How could this former concubine of King Saul dare to speak of Queen Ahinoam with such familiarity?
“Well, then, shall we go to the rooftop?” Rizpah prattled on. “I have chosen the perfect place for us. It’s right near the corner. You should see the finery the lady Kerah is wearing this morning—”
“Go on without me,” Michal interrupted.
Rizpah stopped and stared at her mistress. “Surely, you would not chance missing the sight of the Ark coming into the city?”
“No. I will go and sit with Abigail. I can see the gates from her window.”
“The other handmaids say my lady Abigail is more confused every day,” Rizpah said. “Shall I accompany you?”
“No. Go to the rooftop. And take note of all that happens, in case I miss something.”
“Certainly. I shall take care to report everything to you.” Rizpah fairly ran out the door.
Michal took a deep breath and forced a bright smile. There was a good chance she would encounter other women in the corridor on her way to Abigail’
s chamber. They must not see the weight of a heavy heart reflected on the face of King Saul’s daughter.
“Good morning, Abigail,” Michal said as she entered her friend’s bedchamber.
“Good morning, mother,” Abigail replied. “Are my brothers all right?”
“Yes, my dear.” Michal fluffed the cushions behind Abigail. “Everyone is doing fine.”
“My sisters also?”
“Our entire family is in good health and fine spirits. Have you had breakfast?” Michal asked.
“I don’t know.” Abigail turned to a young woman dressed as a healing servant who stood near her bed. “Have I had breakfast?”
The woman spoke with a strange accent. “Yes. You ate quite well this morning.”
Abigail smiled. “I ate quite well. I must be getting better.”
Michal nodded and patted Abigail’s bony hand. “There’s going to be a big celebration at the city gate. Would you like to get out of bed and watch?”
“Oh, yes. But I’ll wait for father to come and lift me.”
Michal looked toward the healing servant, who shook her head to indicate no.
“Yes, of course.” Michal kissed Abigail’s forehead and walked to the window. “I’ll stay with her,” she told the healing servant. “You can go to the rooftop with everyone else.”
“Thank you, but I am to remain by my lady Abigail’s side every moment. King’s orders.”
Michal wondered why the healing servant did not approach the window. There was plenty of room for both of them to watch the celebration. Before she could ask, the city gates burst open. Trumpets announced the beginning of the historic event. Musicians came through the gates, playing trumpets, drums, harps, and cymbals. They were followed by a choir singing psalms of praise and victory.
After the singers there were dancers who moved in rhythmic abandon to the chant, “We are the People of God”. Michal frowned slightly. It annoyed her to know the younger wives whispered that she was old-fashioned. Still, she could not stop herself from thinking the clothing of the dancers could be more modest. The fabric of the women’s tunics seemed light and airy. It swayed with their cadenced movements, and swirled up around their calves. She was surprised to see that a man was dancing along with the women in front of the Ark. The male dancer leapt and twirled in garments Michal considered as inappropriate as that of the females. He wore a short, white robe over a shepherd-length wrap around his loins. The robe gaped open, showing the dancer’s broad, muscular chest.
Michal froze. She could not speak or even breathe. The male dancer was King David himself, dancing with a troupe of commoners in the street. She was both embarrassed and outraged.
As the Ark moved forward, the people thronging the city gate closed ranks behind it, many of them clapping in time with the music. It seemed as if everyone in Jerusalem was caught up in the jubilation of the moment. King David ripped off his robe and continued to dance with farmers, merchants, children—anyone who happened to be there—wearing nothing but his wrap. Women brushed against her husband’s half-naked body, and no one stopped them. Some of those women could be harlots, possibly even foreigners.
Humiliation, jealousy, and rage welled up within Michal. Wasn’t it enough that other women infringed on her right to be King David’s wife? That concubines sat in the garden of her own home and ridiculed her? That women half her age now suckled their beloved sons while she had none? Unable to bear the scene in the street any longer, Michal ran for the solitude of her bedchamber.
She was too late. Her route was blocked by the crowd moving from the rooftop into the corridor. The press of bodies took her where she did not want to go. In the courtyard, Michal tried to fight her way to a stairway. Just as the railing was close enough to touch, a throng of servants poured down the stairwell, and her opportunity was lost. She was carried along helplessly, through the entrance to the palace, into the street to merge with the mob she saw from Abigail’s window.
Michal could not hear over the roar of people shouting. Everything seemed to slow down. She observed herself with detachment. I’ve been here before, she thought. When was it? The sounds of praise faded into drunken curses.
In the darkness, Phaltiel grabbed her by the throat. “Tell me, woman, do you want to know what it is to die?”
From somewhere a voice intruded, “Run, Michal. Run. Hide. Hurry.”
I should have been the one found dead the next morning.
Oh, God, forgive me. Why didn’t You make me stay and help her? Why do You permit men to do such vile things? Why did You allow me to be such a coward? Why didn’t You let me die instead of Sarah?
David stood before her, sweating and smiling. Or was it Phaltiel? “How could you disgrace yourself, dancing half-naked with those…those street dancers?” Michal heard herself shout. “My father would never have made a fool of himself like that.”
King David’s face fell. “In case you haven’t noticed, your father is no longer the king. God chose me to be king over His people, and I will worship Him however I please. The rule of the House of Saul is done.”
“No. King Saul’s grandson will rule. My son will be king after you.”
“You have no son. And I don’t believe you ever will.”
“How can I when my husband spends his seed on concubines instead of wives who deserve to bear sons? Will you take one of those dancers next? Will I see one of those street women lounging on your rooftop tomorrow?” Michal was vaguely aware that people around them were suddenly silent.
“Maybe you will.” David’s voice grew louder. “And do you know why? Those women think I’m someone special. Do you see the way they look at me? With the same eyes you once had for me, before you were obsessed with producing a royal heir. You care nothing for me now. You have no time to be the lady to my shepherd. No, you must make haste to conceive.”
“Liar! You have cast me aside to play with girls younger than your own sons,” Michal spat.
David pulled her into an alcove. Michal knew their words could still be heard, but now they were shielded from the stares of the crowd.
“You say I lie?” His voice took on the low, slow quality she knew indicated a cold fury. “Think about it. There used to be poetry in our union. There was a time when thoughts of each other filled our hearts. I knew you wanted me. Me, not what you could get from me. Now you are just like the others. You see a king who may be useful, not a man who gives you pleasure. You use your devices to attack me the way I assault a walled city, thinking only how you can force King Saul’s grandson onto the throne.”
“You have no right to presume what I think or feel.” She wanted to wound him as deeply as he hurt her. “If you knew anything about a woman’s heart, Abigail would still be in her right mind.”
“How dare you blame me for Abigail?”
“My king.” Eliab stood at the edge of the enclosure. He cleared his throat. “It’s time for your speech.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
“THEN KING DAVID SENT, AND FETCHED HIM…AND MEPHIBOSHETH HAD A YOUNG SON, WHOSE NAME WAS MICHA…” II SAMUEL 9: 5, 12
“Rizpah? Is that you?” Michal cowered in the corner of her bedchamber.
“Yes, my lady. It is I.”
The sadness in Rizpah’s voice told Michal her handmaid knew what happened. “I suppose you’ve heard how I disgraced myself by shouting at the king in public.”
“The news swept through the palace like a fire.”
“Where will you go?”
Rizpah shrugged. “I’ll stay in the palace if possible. I’ve done some favors for the baker’s helper. She will keep me in food for a few days. Maybe I can serve a concubine, or perhaps a group of them. If not, I will try to make my way back to Judea and impose myself on my sons. What about you?”
“I’m hoping the king will not have time to issue a divorce decree for another day. With good fortune, maybe a bit longer because of the continuing celebration over the Ark. I think I will be able to spend ton
ight here.”
“And then?” Rizpah put a hand on her mistress’s shoulder.
Michal patted the hand. “The only family I have are Merab’s little sons and my brother-in-law. I don’t know where Adriel lives, and I doubt he would give a divorced woman so much as a cup of water.” Michal willed herself not to cry. “There’s an old woman named Tozah who lives near the tabernacle and fears no man. She may give me lodging for a night or two. If David allows me to keep my jewelry, I can live for a while by selling things carefully. I’m sorry I spoiled everything for you as well as myself, Rizpah.”
“I’ve had hard times before. I know how to get along on almost nothing. But you, my lady…”
Michal sighed. “Have you ever been divorced?”
“Indeed so,” Rizpah said. “When I was a bride of six weeks, I made my husband a raisin pie for his evening meal. Turned out he hated raisins. Who knew? We argued. He tossed me out into the street that night.”
“How dreadful.” For the first time, Michal felt sympathy instead of resentment for Rizpah.
“Maybe I deserved it for arguing. Anyway, I learned.” Rizpah held an instructive finger in the air. “I have never made another raisin pie.”
Michal tried unsuccessfully to force a smile. “There are caves on the other side of the stream where I dye yarn. Used to dye yarn. If Tozah refuses me, I could go there for shelter.”
“Perhaps,” Rizpah agreed. “Caves are nice and cool in the summer. You do have to be cautious about wild animals, though.”
“You don’t have to wait until...” Michal closed her eyes. “…until the king puts me away. If an opportunity arises, you must go ahead and take it.”
“Thank you, Lady Michal.” Rizpah began to gather her makeup cases. “If you would not be offended, I may go down and visit with the young concubines for a while. Perhaps I will show them what a skilled maid can do to enhance faces.”
“Go. I wish you success.”
Michal was relieved to be alone, although she liked Rizpah more this evening than ever before. She remembered how incensed she was to see her husband mingling with common harlots. Now she herself might soon be one of them. She suspected Rizpah resorted to prostitution more than once. Somehow, the occupation that was offensive before seemed tragic now.
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