The Secret Book of Kings: A Novel
Page 19
“The first rainfall came early this year,” shouted a large servant carrying a baby crib wrapped in cloth. “You’d better get back inside the palace.”
I quickened my stride and slipped in the wet dirt. I tried to grab on to the chariot’s ladder, but just at that moment a fragile-looking young woman who looked like a child began coming down. Instead of grabbing the rungs, I accidentally grabbed her dainty ankle. She wiped the rain off her face and burst out laughing. The fragrance of her moist hair filled me with a joy I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Are you my little boys’ nursemaid?”
The skinny thighs I could see as I looked up at her made my heart melt. I felt the melancholy that had weighed on me since my return to the palace making way for a liberating sense of lightness, and I was afraid that the spell would be broken if she found out who I was.
“Your nursemaid will be here soon,” I said. “I’m your personal servant.”
She gave me her hand and climbed down carefully. We stood facing one another in the rain and smiled. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, which remained sad. I couldn’t stop looking at her.
“I am Rizpah, of the tribe of Manasseh.”
“And I am Rachel, of the tribe of Benjamin.”
“Rachel is my favorite name. If I ever have a daughter, I will name her Rachel.”
I felt like she could read my innermost thoughts. She paused for a moment, then added sadly, “But it doesn’t appear as though that will ever happen for me.”
“Why not?” I wondered. “You’re a young woman. You’ll have many more children.”
She blushed, which made my heart race. “I’m not so sure. Besides, the king is the one who chooses the names of his children. I wanted to name one of the twins Gilead, but the king decided to call them Armoni and Mephiel.”
It was precisely because she spoke these words with such acceptance that they made me so angry. I wanted to storm into the throne room and demand that Father give their son the name chosen by his new wife. I knew I wouldn’t, but my desire to do so perplexed me.
“What is your favorite name?” she asked curiously, as if nothing in the world were more interesting to her than my reply. She was still under the impression that I was her servant but nevertheless spoke to me simply and directly, as if I were a friend or her sister.
“Nebat.” I didn’t even have to think about it. “The name reminds me of the aroma of moist earth after the first rainfall, just like this smell.” I leaned my head closer and took in the fragrance of her hair. “And since my husband is not a king,” I added with a smile, “no one can force me to give my son any other name.”
She looked around in alarm to make sure no one had overheard me, and only then did she allow herself to laugh. “And what would you call a daughter?”
“Rachel,” I said with certainty. “It’s my favorite name, too.”
She recoiled. “But that’s your own name!”
I wanted to throw my arms around her and ask for her forgiveness, but I knew that doing so would frighten her. “I’m Michal,” I said, trying to smile. “Your husband’s youngest daughter.”
Her skinny arms shook and tears of rage filled her eyes. “Why did you do that?” Her voice remained soft in spite of her anger. “I know you all hate me. I would have hated my father’s second wife, too, but I was hoping you’d have given me at least a few days of grace.”
I held out my arms and took her tiny hands in mine. “Life won’t be easy for you in the palace,” I whispered. “But I’ll protect you. Anyone who wants to abuse you will have to deal with me first.”
We said nothing for a while, our intertwined fingers speaking what words could not.
“Princess Michal,” she said, barely able to speak through the lump in her throat. “I don’t know how I didn’t recognize you. The moment I saw you, I knew right away that you were the most beautiful woman in the world.”
* * *
My family was united in the opinion that my love for Rizpah was instrumental, but each of them had a different explanation for why I would betray my mother. Mother bitterly asserted that I’d always preferred Father over her, Merab conjectured that I was trying to make her jealous to pay her back for resenting my husband, and Jonathan accused me of ingratiating myself to Father as part of my campaign against Abner son of Ner. I didn’t try to argue with my mother and sister. I realized that my relationships with them were completely dead and that nothing we could say to one another would bring them back to life. But I wouldn’t give up on Jonathan, for the love we shared for David made us allies. I confessed to him that I had initially offered my house to Rizpah in order to gain Father’s favor, but, I said, I had truly come to love her, with no ulterior motive.
He didn’t believe me. “You’re using her in your battle with Abner,” he proclaimed.
“I have no interest in hurting Abner. He is not my enemy. His wicked slander has actually been of service to me. It’s the reason Father is considering bringing David back to the palace.”
Jonathan agreed that nothing would be served by a confrontation with Abner, but his opinion of me didn’t change. “David is the only person in the entire world that you truly love. You use everyone else to achieve your own objectives and then cast them aside when you’re done with them. You used Merab to reach Paltiel, and you used me to get to David. Now, you have no interest in either one of us. Since your return to the palace, you’ve been thinking only of yourself. You won’t be able to convince me that you care about that frightened, skinny girl who gave our father twins.” He paused for a moment before adding, “You even cast Paltiel aside. Do you know that poor man still loves you?”
I realized there was no point in reminding him who it was that encouraged me to abandon Paltiel, and instead I went looking for my soul sister to share my hurt feelings and get her opinion about the strange resentment I seemed to inspire in the members of my family. On my way to see her, I decided to prove to myself that Jonathan was wrong about me, so instead of sharing my troubles with her, I focused my attention on her problems.
“It’s time you told me why you’re so sad,” I said.
She made certain that the doors were closed and fixed her melancholic eyes on me. I could barely hear her weary voice. “Your father doesn’t come to me.”
“You’re still impure from childbirth,” I said, trying to find a simple explanation that could put her mind at ease.
Rizpah shook her head. “The twins are three months old. He knows that I’ve already gone to the wellspring to purify myself.”
I wanted to tell her that I could only help her if she finally told me how she had met my father and what circumstances had led him to decide to take her as his wife, but I was paralyzed by what Jonathan had said to me. I didn’t know if my motives were pure or if I was merely using this opportunity to satisfy my curiosity.
“Why are you so quiet?” Rizpah asked.
“I’m not sure how to phrase my questions.”
“I know what you want to ask. My mother’s friends made me swear not to tell the king the truth about our marriage. If they knew I had told his daughter, they’d cross the Jordan River just to kill me.”
“Then don’t tell me.”
A mischievous smile appeared on her face, and for one brief moment even reached her eyes. “I was also given as a gift.”
“Why do you say ‘also’?”
“Just like you were. You were the prize awarded to David son of Jesse, and I was awarded to Saul son of Kish.”
I grimaced in frustration. “The stories about me must not have crossed the Jordan River. One day I’ll tell you the truth about my marriage.”
I could tell that it took everything she had for her to go on. “My mother, Aiah the Great, was the most famous prostitute on the other side of the river. Men from all over the land would lay aside coin upon coin so that they might enjoy her favors just once in their lives. When I was born, many men were willing to swear they were my father and take me unde
r their wing, but Mother declared that she didn’t care who my father was because she intended to raise me only in the company of women. I had a good childhood. I lacked neither money nor love. My mother and her prostitute friends spoiled me and spared me nothing.
“Five years ago, however, everything changed. The rumor was that she’d thrown herself into the river, but I know that she would never have left me alone by choice. The people of Jabesh were certain that I would follow in her footsteps and become the highest-priced prostitute in Gilead. Many men lusted for the young daughter of Aiah the Great, and very large sums were offered for the honor of my first night. But my mother’s friends knew that she had intended that I live my life as a respectable married woman, and they swore they would marry me off to the most respected man in the land. I don’t remember when the name of the king first came up. At first, it was an absurd suggestion made only in jest, but the idea slowly took hold of them, and they developed a clever plan to trap him.
“At the festival of victory, when the townspeople were all gathered in the temple to reminisce about the war against Nahash the Ammonite, the prostitutes got up and accused us of being an ungrateful people because we had never offered the king a gift to thank him for saving us. The elders rejected their claim, explaining that Saul son of Kish had received the throne itself thanks to the victory in that war. But the prostitutes brushed this off, arguing before the large crowd watching the debate that the throne had been given to Saul by the entire nation of Israel, and that the time had come for the people of Jabesh Gilead to reward him in the name of our town. In the space of only a few minutes, the once dignified assembly came to feel like charity collection day in the town’s market, with each participant shouting out the gift he was pledging, trying to make himself heard over all the others. In an effort to restore calm, the prostitutes generously announced they would be willing to grant the king the honor of the first night with the virgin daughter of the great prostitute of Gilead. The people of Jabesh Gilead did not hide their enthusiasm for such an appealing gift, but they expressed concern that the king, who was famous for his modesty and strict values, would be revolted by the idea and might even punish whomever had suggested it. Eventually, it was decided to keep the matter a secret until the king’s next visit, and in the meantime the prostitutes would prepare the girl.
“And my mother’s devoted friends did indeed take very seriously their preparations for my royal encounter. But rather than softening my skin with myrrh and anointing my body with perfumes, they kept telling me the story of Tamar the Canaanite, who had disguised herself as a prostitute in order to steal the seed of Judah son of Jacob, and who thus became the venerated matriarch of the tribe of Judah.
“Two months later, the king crossed the river for a royal visit. But the prostitutes, who knew I was not in my fertile period, told the elders that the gift would be given to the king some other time. The king’s next visit took place on just the right day, and there was great rejoicing. As expected, the king turned me down. He declared angrily that the laws of Moses forbade treating women as objects—not foreign women, and certainly not Hebrew ones—and he recalled the ancient law of the ‘beautiful woman,’ which cautioned soldiers against raping the women of their defeated enemies, the penalty being that when the battle was over the fighters would be forced to marry the women and take full responsibility for them. But the elders, who’d received careful instructions from the prostitutes, explained to the king that the people of Jabesh Gilead would be terribly hurt if their gift was rejected, and they pleaded with him to take me into his bedchamber, even if he had no intention of touching me.
“I won’t tell you exactly what happened that night. A daughter shouldn’t hear such things about her father. I must tell you one thing, though: your father is a righteous man, just like Joseph, or maybe even more so. But in spite of my young age, I succeeded where Potiphar’s wife had failed. I’ll say no more. You can imagine the rest. Three months later, the prostitutes informed the king of the pregnancy of the young girl from Gilead who’d known no other man but him. The king didn’t deny it or give a false oath, didn’t even call me a whore—as most men do in such cases—but returned to Jabesh Gilead and married me. Initially, he’d planned for me to stay on the other side of the river so as not to cause his wife unnecessary suffering, but after the twins were born, he had a hard time being apart from his little sons and decided that we should move into the palace with him.”
The story should have caused me to feel repulsed by the conniving temptress who’d trapped my righteous father and dragged my entire family into her intrigues, but nothing could diminish my love for her, which, in spite of what my family thought, was truly unconditional.
“You got what you wanted,” I said, trying to cheer her up. “You’re the wife of the king, and your sons are princes. What do you care if he doesn’t come to you anymore?”
“Don’t you see?” Her eyes were sadder than ever. “I love him. I fell in love with him at first sight. I wouldn’t have been able to seduce him otherwise. If you try to see your father through the eyes of a woman, not of a daughter, you’ll see that he is irresistible.” She stood at the window and looked away from me. The sun cast soft beams of light upon her hair, giving it a truly magnificent appearance. “The prostitutes were right,” she whispered, as if to herself. “I really am like Tamar. They forgot one thing, though: Judah acknowledged his paternity, but he refused to touch the woman who’d stolen his seed ever again.” She looked back at me and sighed. “Michal, my love, we both know the truth: we can always take their seed, but their hearts and desires remain their own. We can’t steal those.”
“You’re wrong, Rizpah,” I said. “We can’t always take their seed.”
Twelve
David returned to the palace alone. No one came to greet the king’s son-in-law. He got down heavily from the dusty chariot, tossed the red curls out of his eyes with the familiar flip of the head, and looked up at my window. I ran outside, my feet bare and my hair wild, but instead of leaping into his arms, I stopped in my tracks and stared at him as if for the first time. It wasn’t only that his red beard, which had grown thick, gave him an unfamiliar appearance. The licks of fire in his hair, the steely look in his eyes, the firm jaw, even the boyish roundness of his cheeks—all of these suddenly made him a stranger.
“My love,” I said, trying to breathe normally. “There are no words to describe how much I’ve missed you.”
He turned his back on me and began to unload his belongings from the chariot. “I’ve heard that your father has given our home to his concubine,” he muttered in my direction. His voice sounded hard, metallic.
“To his wife,” I corrected him. Even at this moment, I couldn’t be disloyal to my soul sister. “Rizpah daughter of Aiah is Father’s wife, and he is obligated to give her a home in the palace. But we can build ourselves a new house, a larger and more magnificent one.”
He turned away and smiled warmly at the guard who came over to take his things. “Hello there, Simeon, my friend.”
The guard’s cheeks turned bright red. “You remember me?”
“How could I forget? How is your son, the wounded soldier?”
“He lost his arm and cannot make a living, but he’s grateful for what he has. He even got married and now has a daughter.”
“Blessed be the God of Israel for granting you His graces. Please give your son my best, and tell him I’d be glad to meet with him one day and find him a suitable source of income. That’s the least we can do for a heroic fighter who sacrificed his arm for the Kingdom of Israel.”
The guard’s eyes welled up, and he almost lost his footing. It occurred to me that I saw this guard almost every day and had never asked him his name or taken an interest in his children. I wondered if Father ever had.
“Return to your duties, my good friend,” David said, patting him on the shoulder. “I can manage on my own.” He hefted a large crate onto his shoulders and went on ignoring me.
His eyes were cold, his face motionless. “What is it that I need to forgive you for?”
“Leaving you.”
“I forgave you for that long ago. I understand that the rough conditions on the road are unsuitable for a beautiful princess like yourself.” He looked me up and down with a faraway look and added, “But I will never forgive you for bringing me back to be the king’s musician.”
I froze. “You’re going back to being Father’s player?”
He took the opportunity to squeeze past me with the crate and climbed up the stairs that led to my bedroom.
“David!” I called after him. “My love, it wasn’t me. It was Abner. You have to believe me.”
He turned around and looked down at me. “Abner started the job, and you finished it. But I have no claim on him. He isn’t my loving wife.”
Whatever happens, I thought, the important thing is that he is here. We are together again, and that’s all that matters. He is tired from the journey, his nerves are on edge from the bitter news. But when he calms down, everything will go back to normal, and he will see that I am not his enemy.
I followed him upstairs and waited in silence for him to finish unpacking. “Go to sleep,” I said, trying to use the most tender tone of voice I could muster. “When you wake up, we’ll go take a walk in the garden, like we used to. We have some matters to discuss.”
He lay on the bed without a word. The sight of his body sent a painful shudder through my stomach. He had the perfect shape and shine of a sculpture. I felt like I might pounce on him at any moment, gripping his waist with my thighs, burying my face in the crook of his neck, and rapaciously tearing out the hairs of his beard with my teeth. When I heard his even breathing, I slipped outside and ran as fast as I could to the only person in the palace who would understand my feelings without judging me.