Daughter of the King

by Faucheux, Sharon; Havel, Carlene;

  “Yet you are childless. So what is the inevitable conclusion?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “You are too much like Jonathan. You don’t know when you’ve said enough.”

  “And you are just like Grandfather. You can’t admit you’re wrong. I’m not trying to win a debate, Aunt Michal. This is crucial to your peace of mind. So I ask again. If God could give you a son but He does it not, and He never makes mistakes, what does that mean?”

  “I’m going inside.” She began to stuff her knitting into a bag.

  “Face it.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Say it.”

  “All right. God has chosen to make me barren.” Michal stood and collected her things. “Are you satisfied?”

  “And He chose for me to be lame. Since the all-wise God has made these decisions, who are we to question them?”

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-NINE

  “AND IT CAME TO PASS IN AN EVENINGTIDE, THAT DAVID AROSE FROM OFF HIS BED, AND WALKED UPON THE ROOF OF THE KING’S HOUSE: AND FROM THE ROOF HE SAW A WOMAN WASHING HERSELF; AND THE WOMAN WAS VERY BEAUTIFUL TO LOOK UPON.” II SAMUEL 11:2

  Michal wanted to thank her husband for his extraordinary kindness to Mephibosheth. First, of course, she would have to beg his forgiveness for embarrassing him in public and hope his anger was abated. By the time she gathered her courage, King David was on an extended campaign fighting the Syrians. After his victory, she considered trying to catch his eye. She could not interrupt him in the gardens where he spoke with a foreign king paying tribute.

  Determined wives and ambitious concubines descended upon the king if he entered the courtyard alone, before the day’s business began or after it was done. Michal was afraid she would be rudely shoved aside if she tried to break through the crowd and speak with her husband. Would he ignore her greeting? In any case, the daughter of a king could never say what was in her heart in front of those flirting, fawning, impertinent girls. Gone were the days when she could speak with her husband privately, basking in the warmth of a smile meant only for her.

  David fought other wars in other places, extending the borders of Israel further every year. Despite occasional times of scarcity and infrequent plagues, there was no military threat. The People of God were safe and secure, ruled by a benevolent, beloved king.

  Within the palace, life and death continued. More children were born, eleven royal sons and eight daughters in all. Abigail went to sleep one evening and never awakened. Abital’s weakness went into the wasting disease and she, too, rested in the family tomb. Michal even missed Rizpah, who returned to Judea to be near her sons.

  Bird and Maachah fought constantly. Each did her utmost to influence the other wives and concubines to join her faction. The younger wives either did not know how to avoid the strife or did not want to. Kerah sided first with one then the other, always scheming to gain some personal advantage. Michal kept to herself to escape the gossip, bickering, and backbiting that never let up in the women’s quarters.

  She taught little Micha to be an expert in mixing colors and dyeing. When the boy was old enough, Mephibosheth engaged a respected teacher to instruct his son how to read and interpret the law.

  Michal no longer worried about occasions requiring a male relative to escort her in public. Mephibosheth never refused to take her places, nor did he complain about how often she chose to go out. His servants loaded him into his specially-made donkey cart, and away they went. He and Michal became well known for their regular attendance at the place of worship.

  One Passover, Michal received an unexpected message saying Joash and Tirzah were in Jerusalem. Mephibosheth took Michal to a place where poor pilgrims stayed in tents. Joash and Tirzah proudly presented their children, Abimilech, Jonathan, Sarah, Abraham, and Ahinoam. “I hope you don’t mind that we used some of your family names,” Tirzah said shyly as they shared the meal Michal brought with her.

  The men and children stayed in the tent while Michal and Tirzah strolled among the pilgrims’ tents. How sad it was to realize how little she and her old friend had to discuss.

  Joash’s hair was white, but he retained the strength of an ox. After lifting Mephibosheth into the cart, he turned to Michal. “I would have died in Gallim but for you, my lady. If you or anyone in your family ever needs refuge, come to Shiloh. Our farm is east of the well named Ben Amir.”

  Michal thanked Joash, certain she would never again have occasion to travel outside the city.

  Michal’s bleeding became more irregular than ever, and eventually stopped. Yet she was content. She enjoyed the pleasant afternoons spent discussing life, philosophy, family, and the great mystery of God with her nephew. One warm spring day, they sipped from water jars while Michal knitted in a quiet corner of the garden. “This will sound like something my mother would say,” she warned Mephibosheth. “I want to know what has happened to moral standards in this palace.”

  “Any answer of mine would be wasted, dear aunt, because you are about to tell me.”

  Michal smiled. “Yes, I am. This morning I awoke very early. Since I could not sleep, I decided to go to the stream and experiment with the new indigo plants you bought for me at the coastal ship market. There was a woman sneaking out the back gate of the courtyard just before dawn. Now what do you suppose that little foreigner was up to?”

  “Let me think. She got lost on her way to the city gate. She confused the palace for an inn. I hope you didn’t talk to her.”

  Michal recoiled. “No, I most certainly did not speak to her, and you are impertinent for even suggesting such a thing. I don’t think she saw me. I was in the alcove, gathering my pots when she raced by putting on her head covering.”

  “Then how do you know she was a foreigner? Or do you use that term to mean she was where she should not have been?”

  “Both. You should have seen her. Her hair was like a campfire, a curly crown of bright red with golden highlights shooting out like flames. It’s a difficult color to make. You must mix three parts of strong, true red with one part of yellow. When she turned to look behind her, I saw her eyes were the color of the sky on a summer morning. No daughter of Jacob ever looked as this woman does.”

  “She sounds pretty.”

  Michal thought for a moment. “No, Nephew. Pretty is far too weak a word. Beautiful is not enough either. No words describe her. She was breathtaking, in the way of a snow-covered mountaintop in the moonlight. Her face shone like the stars did on those clear, cool evenings when I was a bride. She was so lovely it almost hurt my eyes to behold her.”

  “Aunt Michal,” Mephibosheth said, lowering his voice, “you must tell no one of this encounter. Promise me.”

  “I see you know more of this than I do. Are this woman’s comings and goings common knowledge in the palace then? I would not suspect Daniel to be her lover. So is it Amnon or Absalom who is carrying on this clandestine affair?”

  Mephibosheth grabbed her arm tightly. “Speak not of this. I beg you.”

  “You are afraid for me.” Michal studied her nephew’s face for a long moment. “That can only mean...” She took a deep breath. “It is him. He calls this exotically beautiful woman to his bed in the dark of night.”

  Mephibosheth nodded and released his grip on her arm. “You understand why this must be kept secret.”

  “Other than you or Micha, who is too young to know such things, there is no one in this house I would tell anything.” She sighed. “Again, he disappoints me.”

  “Everyone does, sooner or later. Only God is always faithful. The rest of us may try, but we fail.”

  “I have never told this to anyone,” Michal began. “Years ago, your grandfather, King Saul, was out to kill David. I helped him escape.”

  Mephibosheth laughed. “I heard that story at my father’s knee. It has become a legend throughout the nation, not just in our family.”

  “Not this part. He wanted me to go with him. I refus
ed, and do you know why?” She waited for a response. Receiving none, she continued. “Because I was barefoot. How many nights have I sat sleepless in the dark, wondering why I didn’t go anyway? How different could things have been? If I had gone with him, he might not have taken another wife. I’ll never know.” She put down her knitting and stared at her hands. “And my sandals were there. Right there in our kitchen. An extra pair I forgot about. I saw them later. And I wondered, did he see them that night and think I made an excuse because I didn’t want to face hardships with him?”

  “Did you ever ask him?”

  “No. It was seven, eight years before I saw him again.” Michal gazed into the distance. She resumed knitting. “Surely you know this secret affair with the foreign woman will come out. I give you my word I will say nothing. Nevertheless someone else will see her, or she will slip on a stair, or a jealous rival will expose them. They will be found out.”

  CHAPTER

  FORTY

  “AND…DAVID SENT AND FETCHED HER TO HIS HOUSE, AND SHE BECAME HIS WIFE,…” II SAMUEL 11:27

  From the other side of the courtyard, Michal was certain the man who squatted near Mephibosheth was King David. She was disappointed when her husband sprang up, clapped her nephew on the shoulder and disappeared into the public chamber before she was within speaking distance.

  How splendidly men age in comparison to women, she thought. We get fat or wrinkle like raisins. They get a dusting of silver in their hair, which only makes them more beautiful.

  “Good afternoon.” Michal settled next to her nephew on their favorite shaded bench. “You did not bring Micha? He’s not ill, is he?”

  “Greetings, Aunt. Micha is as healthy as a bull. He eats like an ox. I must check his head when I get home, to make sure he is not sprouting horns.” Mephibosheth furrowed his brow. “Our lord the king just asked me to do something for him. A personal favor.”

  Michal stared at Mephibosheth. “A king has no need to ask for favors. He is surrounded by people whose lives consist of obeying his commands. Don’t you see? This means he thinks of you as a friend. And he trusts you. It is a deep honor. Did he ask something difficult?”

  “No, it’s simple and easy. I’m thinking about it.”

  “Thinking about it?” Michal was incredulous. “You don’t think about your king’s request. You give him anything he wants. If it costs your life, you owe him no less. How can you ‘think about’ obeying your sovereign? What did he ask of you?”

  Mephibosheth smiled. “He wants me to deliver a message. To relay another request, really. To someone else.”

  “That’s all? Shall I ask for your cart?”

  “No, not just yet. You see, he will never know if I fail to do as he wishes.”

  “King Saul will not sleep well in his tomb this night, my nephew. His spirit will weep at the words his grandson speaks. And when I think what compassion King David has shown you. For the first time ever, you bring shame on our house.”

  “You would feel otherwise if you were the one commissioned to do the king’s bidding.”

  “Am I not his subject, just as you are?” Michal protested. “I would be most pleased to carry out a request that came from the lips of our king. As it happens, the business of a kingdom is conducted by its men. And so it falls to you.”

  “Is this truly how you feel, Aunt?” Mephibosheth’s eyes were fixed on her. “You are not simply saying what you think is expected, but what you recommend?”

  “Mouthing words is not my way. I speak the truth.”

  “Good,” he said. “That is good. Because you are the person to whom I am to relay the king’s request.”

  “Me? I don’t understand.”

  Mephibosheth fixed his eyes on the ground between his twisted feet. “King David is taking another wife. She will be coming this evening to make the palace her home. The beautiful foreign woman with hair like fire, the one you saw in the courtyard one morning. Her name is Bathsheba. She is a Hittite.” He took a long breath and went on without moving his gaze. “The king asked me to ask you to help her feel welcome. To befriend her among the women.”

  “How dare he ask me?” she growled.

  “Perhaps he thinks of you as a friend. And he trusts you.”

  “You know I don’t like having my own words thrown back at me.”

  “It is a deep honor to comply with a request that comes from the lips of our king.”

  “She is a whore, a foreigner. She’s everything I hate. You are dogs, both you and him, to think I would ever—”

  “He is your sovereign lord.” Mephibosheth continued to stare at the ground and speak calmly. “You must give him anything he wants. If it costs your life, you owe him no less.”

  “You don’t understand. Forget that he is the king. He is my husband. I have served him more than half my life. And how does he repay me? He—”

  “I wonder if King Saul will rest well in his tomb tonight.”

  “You tricked me into saying those things, Nephew.”

  “No, you are always truthful. It is not your way to mouth words.”

  “If I had another living relative I would never speak to you again. It’s only for your father’s sake—”

  “And when I think what compassion King David has shown to you.”

  “I’ll find her a place to sleep. Nothing more.” She stood and glared at Mephibosheth.

  “That is most charitable of you.”

  “It certainly is, you conniving little jackal. Send this Bethsheeda to me.”

  “Bathsheba.”

  “I will show her to a bedchamber.” She bent and put her face near his. “After that, she is on her own.” Michal shook a finger at him. “And you can tell my husband—”

  Mephibosheth held his palms outward against her words. “No, Aunt Michal. Take pity on a poor lame man. I do not have the strength to deliver another message today.”

  “Lame indeed.” She began to walk rapidly toward the women’s quarters. “I ought to take one of your crutches and beat you with it. And use the other one on him. Is there any other message from my lord, the king? Any other dirty work he wants me to do?” Not waiting for an answer, Michal stalked up the stairway. She stopped at the landing and turned toward Mephibosheth. “Bring Micha with you tomorrow. If you come alone I’ll have you thrown out.” Michal stomped into her bedchamber and flung her knitting against a wall.

  “May I get you anything, my lady?” her handmaid Ballah asked in a frightened voice. Why did I let this girl take Rizpah’s place, Michal asked herself for the hundredth time. A gnat could make the silly girl tremble. Oh, to have Tirzah here for this one day!

  Michal stared at her servant for a long moment, thinking through the arrangement of the women’s rooms. “Who has claimed Lady Abigail’s bedchamber?” she asked at last.

  “A concubine by the name of Salomeha, my lady.”

  A concubine in her dead friend’s bed? “Take some cleaning materials and go to that room. I will meet you there.” Michal swept down the corridor, thinking how mortified Abigail would be if she knew. She stalked into the center of Abigail’s room. A comely girl was sprawled across the bed, talking and laughing. Four others lounged on floor cushions.

  “A new wife will occupy this bedchamber,” Michal announced. “Remove yourselves and your belongings at once.”

  No one moved. “Where do you want us to go?” a girl resting against a bright floor cushion asked sarcastically.

  Michal scorched the girl with her eyes. “I am preparing this chamber for Lady Bathsheba. Finding a place for you is not my concern.”

  “Salomeha was told this could be her room,” another girl whined.

  “Whoever said that made a mistake. Take your things and go. Now.”

  “Who are you?” the girl persisted.

  “I believe you know perfectly well who I am.” Michal glanced around the room, making eye contact with each young woman. “If you do not know me, you have no business in this area of the palace.” She s
tepped near a shelf and rested her hand on a wooden box. “Abigail never wore makeup. This does not belong in this room.”

  The girl on the bed sat up. “That’s mine!”

  Michal hurled the makeup box through the open window. The whacking sound of breaking wood mingled with the concubines’ shrieks. “Those aren’t Abigail’s.” Michal pointed to several garments hanging on pegs.

  “Wait! Please, not my clothes.” The previously immobile bodies whirled into action. “Girls, help me get my things.”

  “Don’t forget my cloak.”

  “Is she crazy?”

  “Where are my sandals?”

  “Put down the vase. That was Abigail’s.” Michal stood in the middle of the room, arms folded.

  Women congregated in the corridor.

  “What’s happening?”

  “Princess Michal has gone mad, just like old Abigail.”

  “Is Salomeha going somewhere?”

  “Who does she think she is?”

  “Didn’t I tell you the king should put her away?”

  Michal heard Haggith’s voice in the corridor. “I would like to know exactly what is going on here.” She came to stand a few feet from Michal.

  Michal looked down at Haggith from her superior height. Hello, my old friend from Hebron. How nice that you’ve decided to speak to me after all this time. “Good afternoon, Haggith. These ladies are removing their belongings from this chamber. We will be welcoming a new wife this evening. I have decided she will sleep here.”

  “I know nothing of a new wife,” Haggith said uncertainly.

  “Nevertheless, she will be here soon. I have asked my handmaid Ballah to prepare the chamber.” Michal glanced around. “And I must say it needs cleansing. Since you are here, you can oversee the cleaning maids while they take over that task. Immediately, if you don’t mind. I know you wouldn’t want the new wife to arrive and find an unfit chamber any more than I would.”

  Michal smiled as she heard familiar voices amidst the growing crowd in the corridor. Come and challenge me. Do you imagine a few harsh words from you will make me tremble? I have faced angry kings alone.