Elhanan understood that the beam was an essential element in the plan to kill Goliath and that it was the reason David had come to see him. With a smile, Elhanan noted that it would be difficult to cut the princess in half and share the prize, but David reminded him that the reward had two components: the hand of the princess and a lifelong exemption from taxes. He proposed that whichever one of them located Goliath would get the princess, and the other would settle for the tax exemption.
That very night, Elhanan deserted the army and returned with David to Bethlehem. They picked up Jair’s old beam, got on their horses, and set out to track down the giant. During the day they left the heavy beam hidden in a cave in Azekah and wandered around separately in order to cover more ground, and at night they returned to sleep in the cave. One night, when David got back to the cave after another day of fruitless searching, Elhanan fell on him, squealing with excitement, and announced that God had come to his aid and placed Goliath the Philistine in his path. The shaken David wanted to take the beam and go out together at once to the monster’s hiding place, but Elhanan gave an enigmatic grin and stood serenely in place. Then, ever so slowly, he bent down, reached into a niche in the cave wall, and pulled out the monster’s head.
That entire night Elhanan dreamed sweet dreams of his princess, but when he awoke in the morning, he realized that the man who had been like a brother to him had stolen her away. The severed head was gone, and so were the two horses. Two full days passed before he managed to find another horse and ride to the Valley of Elah. It was too late. The king had already publicly introduced his new son-in-law, and all of Israel was singing the praises of the young musician from Judah who had taken down the Philistine giant and given them victory.
* * *
The painful blows I’ve absorbed slowly dissipate. I raise my head up again. I find the strength to stand up straight.
“Go,” I tell him.
Elhanan looks at me, his mouth agape, and tries to say something.
“Go!” I repeat in a commanding voice. “My wedding is about to begin. Now no one will listen to you defame my groom.”
“You have to believe me!” he cries. “David didn’t kill Goliath!”
“Get out of here,” I growl, and a moment later, as the guards drag him out, I call after him soundlessly: What do I care who killed or didn’t kill the Philistine giant? I’m not marrying David because he defeated Goliath. I’m marrying him because I love him.
* * *
Many years would pass before I would order my scribal moles to insert a short, inscrutable sentence into the Chronicles of the Kings of Judah about some unknown boy named Elhanan son of Jair of Bethlehem who killed Goliath the Philistine with a weaver’s beam.
The scribes, who thought they’d heard it all, would be paralyzed with shock.
“David didn’t kill Goliath?” they’d ask in amazement. “Are you sure?”
“No,” I would tell them. “I’m not sure. But I want future generations to be not sure as well.”
Nine
When the guests were gone and the two of us entered the bedchamber, I had to pinch myself to be sure I wasn’t dreaming, and I was certain that I would never again ask for another thing. I needed nothing more.
My love stunned me with its intensity. It seemed to me that no woman could have ever loved like this before. I loved all of him: the mysterious look in his eyes, the ruddy roundness of his cheeks, his firm jaw, the confidence in his step. I loved his lips, too, and the taste of his tongue in my mouth, and the skilled fingers that played astounding unexpected melodies on my body. “I love you, David!” I said, again and again, quietly, out loud, in a cry. “I love you! I so love you!”
Only in the morning, when his distant look made me momentarily ill at ease, did I ask in a hesitant whisper, “And you, David, do you love me?”
The sweetness of his words spread through my blood, and I melted. “My princess, the loveliest of women. You’ll always be my Rachel.”
I prayed to God that life would go on like this forever, but my prayers were not answered. On the morning of the eighth day, after the seven days of feasting, I heard him telling the coachmen to get his chariot ready.
“Where are you going?” I asked in shock.
“To the army.”
“The army? You’re a musician, not a man of war.”
He looked at me fondly. “My princess, being the king’s son-in-law is a duty, not a privilege.”
“According to the law of Moses, you are required to stay home with me and to give me pleasure for a full year,” I said in the girlish voice that seemed appropriate for a young bride. “Merab told me that Abner gives leave to any soldier who gets married. Her Adriel is planning to take her on a long visit to his parents’ home in Abel Meholah, far away from the palace and its concerns. She asked me what you were planning to do to please me in our first year of marriage.”
David said nothing for a long time, and then, in a low voice, as if speaking to himself, he grumbled that Merab’s was no innocent question and that she would do anything to turn me against him. “Your sister won’t rest until I am out of the family.” He was on the verge of tears. “She’s gone mad with hatred. Jonathan warned me about her from the start, but I viewed her as a challenge and couldn’t get her out of my head. I like challenges. I’m not interested in things that come too easily. My lust for the conquest blinded me and made me prefer her over you. I can’t imagine what would have happened if it hadn’t been for your determination, my brave princess. Instead of being in the bosom of a loving wife, I would have found myself in the arms of a crafty enemy planning to cast me into a pit, just like Potiphar’s wife did, or to hand me over to my enemies, like Delilah did.”
I was astounded by what he was saying. The unusual circumstances of our marriage threatened to cast a dark shadow over our life together, and I was glad to hear him speaking about it all so candidly, which could only help build a foundation of openness and trust for our relationship. But presenting my sister as a villain pleased me far less, and I firmly declared that Merab had never meant him any harm.
“Hatred impairs common sense.” David sighed with melancholy.
“So does love,” I said, smiling. “Merab loves me. She wouldn’t hurt my man.”
David decided to put off his trip so that we could continue our honest conversation. That was when I heard for the first time that his seven brothers were having a hard time accepting his dizzying rise and were now trying to get in his way, just as Jacob’s sons once did to their younger brother Joseph. “Your sister isn’t the only one who’s jealous of me,” he said and couldn’t quite hide the bitterness in his laugh. “So are my brothers.”
I tried to convince him that Merab’s hatred had nothing to do with jealousy. People envy those of equal or lesser status who suddenly rise to greatness and surpass them. “You haven’t surpassed Merab,” I teased. “She is a princess in her own right, while you only have your lofty status thanks to me.”
David gave me a long look and finally sighed as he quoted the proverb, “Jealousy is as unyielding as the grave,” adding that it wasn’t possible to explain the destructive emotion rationally because it was completely unpredictable.
It seemed that our conversation, which had started off with such beneficial candor, was now becoming tense, so I decided to change the subject to his family by suggesting that he give his brothers titles of nobility in order to ameliorate their jealousy. “That’s what Father did in his first days on the throne. It’s an excellent way to turn an enemy into a friend.”
David expressed interest and asked me to tell him more about it. In the few days we’d been married, I had already learned that the best way to pique his interest and get him excited was to tell him stories of palace intrigue, so I told him about the time early in Father’s reign when he learned that a relative of his was envious and that it wasn’t the kind of jealousy that would quickly pass, but rather something menacing, destructive, and long-lasting.<
br />
“Who was it?” he asked, his face reddening with impatience, like a little boy who can’t restrain himself at the sight of candy. I couldn’t help but compare the way my husband’s face flushed to the way my father’s did. Father’s face gets red when he is ashamed or angry. Shame sends him into silence, while anger sends him into loud fits of rage that frighten and intimidate everyone around him. But my David never gets angry. His firm jaw shows steadiness and restraint even in the most stressful of situations, and only the flush of his round cheeks hints at the storm inside.
“Abner son of Ner.”
His eyes widened. “Our renowned army commander got his position because of jealousy?”
“Father would never have appointed someone unworthy to the most important military position in Israel, but he had many candidates—all of them warriors, all heroes, all having proven themselves in past battles. Mother told me that he had been planning to choose a decorated warrior from Ephraim to become commander of the united army of Israel, but then he started to hear troubling rumors about Abner son of Ner, brother of his father, Kish. People said he was defaming him, spreading nasty lies, presenting him as a weak, insecure, and unsuitable king. Father never pays much attention to stories and believes with all his heart that the truth always wins out, but at that time he was still new in his position, and Samuel was demanding that he punish the slanderer to the fullest extent of the law, lest his connection to the royal family lend credence to his wicked tales. But rather than execute Abner, as Samuel expected him to do, Father decided to take care of him in a different way. He invited Abner to join him for a meal in his modest home, reminded him of the camaraderie they’d shared in their youth, praised him for the heroism he’d displayed back when they’d herded their grandfather Abiel’s sheep together, and declared that no one else was better suited than he was for the position of commander of the army of Israel. Father’s unusual strategy proved itself over and above what anyone expected. There is no one more loyal and devoted to us than Abner. He values the lives of the members of the royal family more than he values his own, and there is no doubt that he would die for us.”
David was fascinated by the story. When I finished, he told me that he was surprised to hear that the slander against my father did not come only from Judah, but even from within Benjamin itself. I was glad to hear him speaking openly about the hostility between the tribe of Judah and the tribes of Rachel, and I replied teasingly that it was no wonder his older brothers were unwilling to accept his impressive rise to royalty, for Judeans were well known for being jealous of their younger brothers. That’s the way it always has been, and that’s the way it always will be.
David wasn’t offended. He said cheerfully that our marriage was a blessing not only for us but for the entire people of Israel, and that our holy union presaged a reunification of the tribes of Judah and Benjamin, just like in ancient times, when Judah told Joseph he was willing to rot in prison in the place of his younger brother Benjamin.
I could tell that he was trying to insinuate that Judeans didn’t always envy the sons of Rachel, so I reminded him that Judah’s devotion to Benjamin came only after Judah sold Joseph to the Ishmaelites. With a playful wink, I added that the best way to help jealous family members get over their resentments was to give them jobs and gifts, as Joseph himself had done, granting his older brothers the land of Goshen and providing for all their needs.
David nodded in agreement and said sadly that only a king could hand out benefits and titles to his relations. Then he leaned in, kissed my eyes, and said in a passionate whisper that I was a wise woman. I felt myself bursting with pride, and to cover my embarrassment, I made a teasing comment about how men usually gave their wives compliments about their beauty, not their brains.
“I like pretty women,” he said, as that special sparkle returned to his eyes. “But wise women are much more attractive to me.”
After we made love, he played the harp and lyre for me until morning. I lay beside him, overcome with joy, and prayed for our lives to go on like this, every day, every month, every year, until the end of my days.
But the very next morning, before I even had a chance to press my lips to his, I heard the sounds of the coachmen outside and realized that his travel plans hadn’t changed.
“I’d hoped that the special closeness we had last night would keep you here with me,” I said, my disappointment taking me to the brink of tears.
“There’s nothing I’d like more, but the soldiers are expecting me to make a royal visit.”
“Why you? There are other princes in this family.”
“Jonathan appointed me to this role.”
“Which role?”
“Making appearances before soldiers.”
“Does Father know?”
“It was his idea. When I rode with him in his chariot before our wedding, the crowds began to sing, ‘Saul has slain his thousands, and David his tens of thousands.’ At first, I was afraid and was about to signal Abner that he should shut them up so as not to inspire jealousy in my father-in-law, but—”
“My father isn’t a jealous man,” I cut him off. “Merab and your brothers—maybe you can attribute jealousy to them. But the King?”
“Kings get jealous, too, sometimes, but you’re right—your father envies no man. The emotion is completely foreign to him. He listened to their singing with pleasure and calmly told me that I seemed to be able to charm the people effortlessly and that we needed to use my talent for the good of the kingdom. He himself was too busy with affairs of state, Jonathan had to remain by his side so that he would be prepared to inherit the crown one day, and the other princes, including Merab’s Adriel, weren’t gifted with my powers of attraction. It was time the army of Israel had a member of the royal family making appearances before them. And indeed, two days later, while the second banquet was still going on, Jonathan called me into a side room and officially appointed me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to spoil our marital bliss.”
I felt utterly exhausted, as if I hadn’t just awoken from a long, blissful sleep. Life now seemed gloomy and dark. David looked miserable, too. He bent over me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and looked at me sadly. His pretty eyes filled with tears.
“Come with me,” he suddenly said.
“Where?”
“To the army.”
It seemed impossible. I didn’t know what to say. I thought he might be joking to lighten the gloomy mood, but in an instant he had a list of persuasive arguments that made the odd idea sound entirely rational. He left out any selfish arguments, focusing only on the good of the army.
“Your visit will improve morale,” he declared. “Your father and Jonathan think soldiers only want to see heroic warriors at their sides. They’re wrong. Soldiers are first and foremost young men, and a pretty princess like you could imbue them with more fighting spirit than any warrior. When they see you, that vague concept of ‘The Kingdom of Israel’ becomes tangible, and no words are needed to make them understand that some things are worth dying for.”
I was flattered and had no desire to remain alone in the palace, but I was worried about the bumpy roads. Years ago, Mother explained to me that when a young woman wishes to conceive, it’s best for her to maintain a regimen of complete rest. Rather than admit how much I yearned to bear his child and ask whether he, too, was passionate about becoming a parent, I bickered with him childishly, trying to refute his arguments and undermine his self-confidence. The most hurtful moment in our argument came when I asked him in a mocking tone how he would know what effect a pretty princess had on fighters, having never gone to war. He’d killed Goliath by himself and had collected the hundred Philistine foreskins—my bride price—without a battle.
“Two hundred,” he corrected me, trying without success to conceal how offended he was.
“Let it be two hundred. What difference does it make? You collected them off the battlefield.
”
The edges of his lips trembled, but he quickly regained his composure, and explained coolly that one didn’t need to serve in the army to know how soldiers would feel when a beautiful princess visited them. It was necessary only to understand human nature.
“I can’t come with you,” I mumbled in despair.
“Why?”
“A princess must stay in the palace, not roam about on the roads.” I don’t know why I couldn’t just tell him the truth. “That’s the law.”
He gracefully tossed the red curls off his face. “Is that the law, my obedient princess?” My entire being ached for that glint in his eyes. “An obedient daughter waits patiently for her father to give her to the man of his choosing. She doesn’t take the man she desires on her own.”
“If I hadn’t taken you, I would have had nothing to live for,” I whispered, spent.
“Then come with me. Together, we’ll make an irresistible duo. The soldiers will be beside themselves with adoration.”
* * *
Indeed, the soldiers surrounded the royal chariot with shouts of joy, as if we were returning victorious from the battlefield. They almost passed out with excitement as we stepped out to greet them. They moaned at the sight of my dress and jewelry and stared at my face in wonder. But the main attraction was my husband. They devoured him with love. I tried to decipher the secret of his charms. I thought about shy Father’s power of attraction—how embarrassed he feels among the crowds, how he can never change the way his face turns to crimson at the sounds of their cheering. Father’s shyness makes him seem cold and distant, which makes people yearn to get closer to him. I’ve often seen how people react when he speaks to them. They glow with pride, as though they’ve overcome a challenging obstacle that only a few can ever surpass. David, on the other hand, walks through the crowd with confident ease, seeming to enjoy every moment. His hands reach out with a natural calm, his fingers touching all who want to be touched. When someone tries to speak with him, he stops in his tracks, stands very close, and gives his full attention and the feeling that he has all the time in the world and that he has never before heard such words of wisdom.
The Secret Book of Kings: A Novel Page 17
