Love’s Sacred Song

by Mesu Andrews

  The coach dipped into a rut, but she barely noticed, cuddled against Solomon’s strong chest. Hannah had begged to ride a camel alongside Reu for the final leg of their journey, and Arielah was thankful that Solomon had joined her in the coach. They would linger one night in Shunem and be on their way to Jerusalem at dawn. She needed to be near him now.

  “Solomon?”

  He didn’t respond, just drew her tighter. She could feel his breathing grow ragged, his chest heave in uneven gasps.

  A lump formed in Arielah’s throat. “What are you thinking?” she asked. It seemed both their hearts had become weighted as they crossed the Jezreel plain.

  Solomon drew a ragged breath. “I know I must be king in Jerusalem, and I know we have determined a plan by which I can fulfill my obligations to the other wives but still guard my heart for you alone.” He paused, sighed, and then laid his cheek on top of her head. “But now my concern is guarding you from further attacks from the Sons of Judah. I pray Benaiah brings us good news of plentiful witnesses when he arrives with our escort.”

  She felt tears wet her hair. He lifted his head. She looked up, and he kissed the curve of her neck. Neither spoke again. They kissed away each other’s tears.

  When Arielah glanced out the window again, she saw Benaiah waiting at Shunem’s southern gate. “It appears we’ll hear news of witnesses sooner than we realized, my love.” Pointing toward the window, she saw panic in Solomon’s eyes.

  Seventy-three, seventy-four, seventy-five. Solomon counted the royal guards waiting at Shunem’s gates. Why would Benaiah bring so many guards? Unless . . .

  Arielah scooted closer to the window. “Why did Benaiah bring so many men?” she asked. “You came to Shunem with only ten guards.”

  Determined to remain calm, he leaned over and kissed her again. “Because there are bandits in the wilderness, beloved. And now I carry my greatest treasure in her wedding carriage.” She smiled, and her wide, innocent eyes pierced him. She had no idea how much loving her had changed him. Perhaps Benaiah brought the large company of guards as a show of power, a deterrent for random bandits. Jehovah, let it be so. I pray it’s simple bandits, and not to guard against an enemy so bold they would attack on our way to Jerusalem.

  Their carriage halted by Shunem’s gate, and as usual a crowd gathered to greet the royal guests. Benaiah was first to meet them, opening the carriage door like a concerned ima. “Are you all right? Did you run into any trouble?”

  Solomon smiled, refusing to borrow trouble. “Hello, Commander. It’s nice to see you too.” The comment won a grin from the big man.

  Jehoshaphat had already dismounted his camel and led his wife to the carriage. “I believe we have an anxious ima here to greet her daughter.” Solomon stepped out of the carriage, lifted Arielah into his arms, and placed her feet on Shunem’s soil.

  “Shalom, my lamb,” Ima Jehosheba said as she wrapped her daughter in loving arms.

  Arielah closed her eyes, receiving comfort like a parched desert wanderer’s first drink. “Shalom, Ima. It’s good to be home.”

  While Igal and Reu led the rest of the caravan to Jehoshaphat’s barns, Benaiah’s expression turned grim. “My king,” he said, lowering his voice for only Solomon and Jehoshaphat to hear, “the news is not good from Jerusalem.”

  Solomon’s heart fell to his toes.

  Exchanging a glance with Jehoshaphat, Benaiah confirmed the king’s worst fears. “I could find no second witness to corroborate Oliab’s testimony against the Daughters of Jerusalem.” Looking over his shoulder, he said, “Please, both of you, follow me to the meadow where we can talk in private.”

  Solomon’s heart pounded with every step. The silence of the three men’s march was broken only by the swoosh of their sandals through Shunem’s green grass. When they reached a cluster of fir trees, Benaiah resumed his story. “Plenty of women in the harem would testify that they heard Shiphrah and Sherah bribe the palace guards to ignore Arielah when she ventured into the city unescorted.” Turning to Jehoshaphat, he lifted his hands, pleading. “I had no idea the Daughters of Jerusalem held sway over watchmen in the city, my friend.” His eyes swam with tears. “Abishag even testified that she heard the guards speak of the plan to beat Arielah, and I’ve used every means possible to persuade the harem guards to talk, but—” A sob robbed his speech. He shook his head.

  “All right, my friend,” Jehoshaphat said, placing his hand on the commander’s shoulder. “Have you announced a general plea to the public, asking for a witness to come forward?”

  Anger seemed to fuel his tears as much as his remorse did. “I even tried knocking on doors, asking individual men, heads of their households. But the whole city fears retribution from the Sons of Judah. And Shiphrah or Sherah seem to wield the power. One word from them, and traitors are beaten or their homes are burned. I’ve never seen men so committed to a cause. It’s infuriating!”

  “They’re not protecting a cause,” Solomon said flatly, and both men’s brows furrowed in question. “The guards. They’re not protecting a cause. Men wouldn’t endure Benaiah’s torture for a simple cause.” He watched as understanding dawned on their features. “These men are protecting Shiphrah and Sherah because the Daughters of Jerusalem have become the idols of Judah’s worship.” He scratched his beard, and a thought began to take root and grow. “You said the harem guards talked openly about their bribes?”

  “Yes,” Benaiah said, hope seeming to calm his frustration. “And from your foreign wives’ reports, the Daughters of Jerusalem paid the guards outside the harem gate.”

  A slow, determined smile creased Solomon’s lips. He began a victorious nod.

  “Have you thought of a way to let a woman’s testimony stand in your court?” Jehoshaphat asked.

  “But you can’t have your wives testify,” Benaiah said, his frustration returning. “Though I’d like nothing more, your council members would never support your ruling if you allowed females to testify.” He grew quiet. “I’m sorry, Solomon. I’ve tried every method I know to get those harem guards to talk. They simply will not testify against the Daughters of Jerusalem.”

  The king reached out to touch his commander’s shoulder. “You have served me well, Benaiah. I know you have done everything humanly possible to find a witness. But with Jehovah’s help, there is a way.” He winked at both men, bent to pick a wildflower for his wife, and left them staring. Twirling the flower between his fingers, he whistled and returned to the city with a lighter step. Thank You, Jehovah, he prayed silently. Your wisdom is truly amazing.

  As the royal caravan reached Jerusalem’s gates, the midday sun glinted off trumpets, their joyful blast announcing Israel’s returning king. Arielah’s heart pounded wildly at the sound. Every sight, sound, and smell of this city reminded her of the beating, and panic began to set in as well-wishers crowded around the coach to welcome home their king and his treaty bride.

  “Beloved.” Solomon’s rich, deep voice intruded on her fear, and she realized her eyes were closed. When she opened them, his loving gaze held her. Leaving his side of the coach, he snuggled beside her, gathering her close. “When you entered these gates the first time, you had to fight the battles alone. Now we will fight them together.”

  Resting in his nearness, she said, “Yes, but I’m tired of fighting, my love.”

  He kissed her forehead and asked, “Do you not have one happy memory in Jerusalem?”

  The thought intrigued her. She turned to face him and smiled, and a memory came immediately. “This may not be what you were hoping for, but during my very first journey to Jerusalem, Kemmuel and Igal were young and playful, not old enough to show their jealousy. The three of us danced and skipped through the streets of Jerusalem.” She let a little mischief leak out. “If only you were like a brother to me,” she said, twirling a stray lock of his hair, “I could love you and kiss your cheek and no one would care. Perhaps we wouldn’t have all these battles.”

  Solomon captured her hand,
kissed it, and then brushed her cheek with his lips. “If I were your brother, we wouldn’t be enjoying this wedding carriage.”

  Arielah smiled, and she tried to console herself with the plan Solomon had confided to her during their last night in Shunem. Surely this time the Daughters of Jerusalem would be exposed. But what about the Sons of Judah? Would their conspiracy dissolve when Shiphrah and Sherah were condemned? Jerusalem seemed to be a fox chasing its own tail, a constantly boiling pot.

  She sighed deeply, and he lifted her chin to search her eyes. “If you were my brother,” she said, “we could have stayed at my ima’s house. We could learn more of love before it was tested again so soon.” Seeing the pain in his eyes, she prayed for strength and lightened her tone. When he turned away, she caught his chin and recaptured his gaze. “I would give you my spiced wine and the nectar of my pomegranates.”

  He kissed her soundly. “Mmm, I love your spiced wine and pomegranates.”

  She tried to grin, tried so hard to hide her mounting anxiety, but a sudden rush of tears defeated her.

  “Oh, beloved,” he said, hugging her tightly. “What? Are you this frightened? I’ll have a hundred Cherethite and Pelethite guards outside our door every moment.”

  “Our door?” she squeaked, sounding utterly pitiful.

  He was silent for a long moment, stroking her cheek. “You can move back into the bridal chamber if you like, but I must have a place to be with the other wives.” He paused. “Are we not agreed?”

  Again she fought for control and for the reasonable facts she needed to accept—for her peace and Solomon’s integrity. “I understand that as a man of honor, you must be a king to your other wives.” She sniffed back tears. “But it is still difficult for me to think of you lying in another woman’s arms—even when I know I possess your heart.”

  She felt the rise and fall of his chest, a deep sigh. “Indeed, you have my heart, beloved. You and you alone.” Grasping her shoulders, he pulled her away in order to search her gaze. “How can I assure you of my love, that it is faithful and true? How can I remind myself?” His eyes welled with tears, and his voice broke. “I don’t want to fail you again. I don’t want to allow my heart to wander, so I need your help. How can we protect our love in Jerusalem?”

  Arielah’s heart ached at his sincerity. He looked so vulnerable, like a young soldier preparing for his first battle. Reaching up to push that stubborn lock of hair from his forehead, she let her hand brush his cheek and his neck, then rest on the slight impression at the base of his throat.

  He reached up, cradled her crooked hand, and squeezed it too tightly. She winced.

  “Oh, beloved, I’m sorry.” His face looked stricken as it always did when he saw the lingering effects of her beating.

  In that awkward moment of pain and pleasure, she realized how to portray their love. “Solomon!” The excitement in her voice must have confused him. She reached for the leather cord he wore around his neck, and he looked as if he might call a guard to protect him. Giggling now, she lifted the metal bauble suspended on the cord, pulling it from beneath his robe. He watched her with rapt interest, his brow furrowed, his grin intrigued.

  “Is this the seal you press into wax on official documents?” she asked. Already knowing the answer, she kissed his cheek as a silent request for his patience.

  “Yes . . .” He smiled, evidently a willing student.

  She rolled the decorative cylinder between her fingers. “Just as you press this symbol of ownership into beeswax, so I want you to place me like a seal on your heart.”

  “Ah,” he said softly and returned a quick kiss. “A very apt comparison.”

  She snuggled close. “But there’s more,” she said. Growing quiet, she hoped his heart would receive the next lesson as readily. “At first I hated the thought of my scars and crippled leg,” she said. “But now I see that my lasting wounds make me like this seal. I’m always leaning on your arm as the seal is constantly around your neck. Wherever we go, I’m sort of a permanent attachment, like this leather necklace and your seal.”

  He pulled her closer, resting his chin on her head. She heard a sob, felt his chest heave. “Oh, beloved. Yes. This is a picture of our love that I can carry with me always. I hate that you bear these scars, but it is with deep honor that I will forever be at your side.”

  She kissed him and held his gaze. “How would you feel if someone stole your seal or offered you great treasure for it?”

  He smiled a forbearing smile as if to say, Our lesson isn’t over? “I would never relinquish my seal. It is mine and only mine until the day I die.”

  Settling into his side, she said, “The love of which we speak is like your seal—as strong and lasting as death, and my jealousy is as unyielding as the grave. Even a river can’t wash away the blazing fire of love in my soul.” She lifted her head and cupped his cheek. “I will never joyfully share you with other wives. But I can accept my place in your heart if I know I am forever sealed with your love.”

  He gazed at her for a long moment, the crowd outside growing in noise and number. Too soon the carriage stopped at the palace entrance, jostling back and forth, while the stallions jittered at the crowd noise. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, “Always with me,” and then he returned to the bench on the opposite side of the coach, awaiting Benaiah’s arrival.

  The rest of the royal procession continued to the stables and storehouses, and finally the commander opened the carriage door. “The people await your greeting, my lord.”

  Arielah wiped her eyes. Solomon leaned over and brushed her cheek, inhaled deeply, and affixed his regal smile. When he emerged from their canopy of serenity, a cheer rose, sounding as if all of Jerusalem had gathered to celebrate the long-awaited arrival of its wandering king.

  Arielah heard only their incoherent rumblings, her attention completely captured by her strong yet tender husband. Solomon whisked her into his arms and twirled her around, sheer linen veils encircling them. “Solomon, put me down!” She giggled, and his laughter boomed over the jubilant crowd.

  She could feel her cheeks grow pink. Solomon must have noticed too, because he set her down gently and asked, “Ready for our first battle, beloved?” She nodded, and he lifted his voice above the noise. “People of Jerusalem, your treaty bride has returned.” Another cheer, and Solomon lifted his hands to quiet the crowd. “As most of you know, Queen Arielah was brutally attacked in the City of David. We have found only one man willing to testify against those responsible for planning and carrying out the assault. But we must have two male witnesses in Israel’s court to condemn a criminal to death.” Chatter fluttered across the crowd, and the Mighty Men formed a barrier between the audience and the royal couple. Solomon stepped between them, focusing on a few men in the front rows and some guards near the entrance hall. “If any man here is willing to serve as second witness, please register with my palace steward in order to testify at the public hearing in the throne hall after midday.”

  Arielah’s heart thundered as Solomon returned and brushed her cheek. “May I carry you, beloved? I need to feel you in my arms.”

  She nodded her quick approval, and he swept her up as if she weighed nothing at all. Stirred by his wisdom and strength, she whispered, “It would appear you’re quite a warrior, my love. Perhaps you should assign yourself Benaiah’s job.”

  He chuckled softly. “My love is a sharp sword,” he said with a playful wink. Solomon kissed her forehead and turned to enter the palace.

  “Long live King Solomon!” someone cried, and the crowd erupted in applause.

  Solomon turned back to their audience, and Arielah saw a young woman shout, “And blessed be Queen Arielah!”

  Her heart was overwhelmed. The dark prospects of sharing her husband and the political battles with the Sons of Judah had almost snuffed out her hope.

  “Wave to your people, my treaty bride,” Solomon said. “They are Judean, but perhaps there are many who remain true Israelites.”

/>   She waved and warmed to the people of Jerusalem, feeling like their queen for the first time. Solomon resumed his march up the stairs while Benaiah followed closely behind them. When Solomon reached the palace entrance, Arielah noticed the one-eyed guard she’d slipped past on the night of her beating. He stood beside a scribe, a pleasant-looking man with ink-stained fingers. Both men were startled from a traditional bow when King Solomon stopped beside them.

  “Mahlon, please rise,” the king said, still holding Arielah like a roll of tethered wheat.

  Arielah pondered the name. Mahlon . . . where have I heard that? Suddenly she remembered. Mahlon was the scribe Ahishar had tortured—Elisheba’s friend who had been like an abba to Reu!

  She watched a terrified glance pass between the scribe and the one-eyed guard. Mahlon raised an eyebrow, and the guard spoke. “How may we serve you, my king?”

  Solomon chuckled, no doubt as amazed as Arielah that two men could communicate as one. “Mahlon, I’ve been told of the terrible wrong Ahishar did to you, and I’m sorry you suffered at the hands of someone I trusted.”

  The scribe stared wide-eyed and then uttered some unintelligible sounds to the guard. “Mahlon says, ‘Thank you, my lord. Your kindness is enough of a gift.’” Both the guard and Mahlon bowed as one.

  “The small honor I give you now cannot atone for the wrong, but I hope it brings you—and Elisheba—great joy.” Arielah’s heart skipped a beat, and she could barely contain a squeal. Solomon grinned in her direction before sharing the news with the waiting scribe. “You, Mahlon, will be the bearer of happy news to Reu’s ima. Please tell her that Reu has served his king well and will soon marry Queen Arielah’s young maid. Furthermore, I have entrusted Reu with the position of vinedresser at my vineyard in Baal Hamon. Elisheba and her guests will travel by royal escort to her son’s wedding in Shunem after the next Passover.”