Destiny of Kings

by Fiona Tarr

  ****

  Francesca sat before Samuel as they both meditated in silence. She was feeling unsure of where her path would go now. Her planning had failed yet all was well. What was she to do now? To allow her life to move outside of her control was difficult to accept. She voiced her concerns with Samuel as he opened his eyes from meditation.

  'You grow restless my child this is understandable. Your work as a Priestess should not take you away from a life of happiness. Yet this is how you feel, do you not; that you should have to make sacrifices in the Lord’s service?' Samuel regarded her with a fond smile.

  'There is still much to do Samuel. The boy must become King and I feel I still have a role to play in making that happen.' Francesca almost pleaded.

  'A role, yes, but not in making it actually happen. All things are not for us to control Francesca. You will have a hand to play in it, but no planning or scheming need be involved. It will just happen as destiny dictates. Have you not seen that your plans will not be fulfilled as you see? Your gift of seeing the future has turned into a curse for you I feel. You must learn to use it as a guide only and accept that you do not control the future. When called, you must act. However if you are not called, you must learn to trust. Reflect on this my child for you are a great and powerful asset for the Creator. You also have the capacity to be a great obstruction if you try to do it your own way. Does your power and gifting serve the Lord or serve you? You must ask yourself this question, every moment of every day; I know that I do. It is time for you to allow yourself happiness. You owe God nothing except your love my child. He does not ask for you to be unhappy, toiling away, working and working. God wishes for you to be happy. This is as important to Him, as it is for all His children.' Samuel rose and gently touched Francesca’s shoulder as he left her with her thoughts.

  Francesca, closed her eyes. She had finished meditation with Samuel, yet had felt no joining with the Lord. She had felt no relief from her anxiety. Samuel’s words were filled with truth. She knew this in her soul. She closed her eyes and asked for guidance. Before her came the image of Martinez, in full armour, ready for battle. As she took in the image before her, she focussed on his eyes—they radiated a mixture of pain and happiness—invoking feeling she believed lost long ago. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she allowed herself to let her anxiety go. Her face ached, her eyes finally dry; her body no longer shuddering, she fell into a deep, relieved sleep.

  Samuel returned. Taking a rug from his pack, he covered her sleeping form. He knelt by her side and mouthed a silent prayer for her. So beautiful and strong, yet so fragile. He wished she could move from the burden of what she believed was her debt to God, to finally take up the freedom of life in the faith. Yet her faith was still not strong enough and he would need to nurture her further yet. Samuel had seen her possible future. A future of happiness and love, yet he knew its fulfilment depended on many things. Not the least of which, was Francesca’s unwillingness to give control to the Lord. Her happiness hung in the balance of this one important step of faith. As Samuel looked at her, he was touched with concern that she may simply not possess the strength.

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  'Lady Jezebel, your rooms are ready for the evening,' said the soldier as her party rode into the prepared encampment. Jezebel was jolted from her daydreams. Rooms she thought as she surveyed the surroundings. She hardly believed you could possibly call a stretched out piece of canvas between palm trees in a hollow of sand, with a few rugs thrown on the floor rooms. She scoffed silently to herself, smiled patiently at the young soldier. He was quite attractive with his short tunic, long laced sandals, bulging biceps and thigh muscles. Suddenly arousal replaced her annoyance. She welcomed the soldier’s offer to help her dismount. Deliberately brushing her breasts against his cheeks as she clumsily dismounted. The young soldier blushed slightly, which only served to increase Jezebel’s interest. There would be no sacrificing for a few days, as this was a small party and any missing soldiers would be easily noticed. That did not mean she had to be totally devoid of amusements during the journey. What soldier would be stupid enough to tell the King he slept with his mistress?

  ****

  Saul sent everyone away on his arrival to his palace. Jonathan, David and Martinez were not even allowed to attend him. He was annoyed that Jezebel was not with him. Travel weary and extremely dusty, he called for his servants to attend to his bath and relaxed into the steaming water, which was topped up regularly by the young serving women, who ran back and forth with pitchers of hot water. He sipped on his blood red wine and took in the scented oils and flower petals spread around the room. This was where he wished to spend the rest of his days. He thought for a moment, deciding he would be a battle King no longer. He was growing in years, Martinez, Jonathan and now David could serve him ably as generals in the field. He could relax into a life of luxury, with Jezebel at his side. The politicians could continue to squabble and Derai seemed to enjoy that arena. She could handle them, he was sure of it. As his Queen she had the authority to speak in his place. His mind made up, he downed his wine and held up his glass to be filled. Immediately the waiting servant rushed forward with a chilled wine jar.

  It was not long before his thoughts of Derai and Jezebel turned to lust. He puzzled over this momentarily. Jezebel fired his blood with her willing ways. Yet Derai! There was something about her strong will and proud nature he found attractive. With Jezebel still a day from his palace, his mind was made up and he summoned Derai to his quarters. The thought of her attending him once more raised feelings he had not experienced in many years. She had not planned to marry him, he knew. This realisation was why he had allowed her to live her own life over the years. Her father had betrothed her to him and although he had never spoken to her about it, he knew her love was always reserved for another. At first she had tried to serve him well. She was available for his desires to be fulfilled; yet he knew she was never really in the moment. It did not stop him from loving her though. If anything he loved her more as she tried to be his wife. A woman of conviction she never took her duty lightly. Her duty, this was the problem. He loved her to the depths of his being, yet he knew she would never love him the same way. After the birth of Jonathan, her heart had been fully occupied by her love for her son. Inevitably the pain had been too much for him to bear. He had turned away from her then, visiting her infrequently and then only to ensure that her position as his Queen was not undermined by his other wives or those in governance. In a way he carried the guilt of taking her from her one true love whose identity she had never revealed. He had his suspicions but he had no intention of pursuing them. For if he were right he would destroy everyone’s lives with his knowledge.

  ****

  Derai was running when she received word that the King was home and had summoned her to his apartments. Her thoughts were confused—Saul had not asked for her to attend him for years—he probably did not even remember the colour of her eyes. She had bathed quickly and slipped on a simple long tunic of emerald green, a colour she always adored. She added a golden sash tied around the hips and a wide silk scarf of taupe with golden flecks of thread woven through. She quickly scanned her image in the bronze mirror. How old she looked now, she thought to herself. Her body was still athletic and had toned up considerably since she had gone back to her running. Still, her skin was no longer tight around her eyes and her breasts did not sit pertly, as they once had. She shook her head; what would Saul care? His lustful thoughts of her had ceased many years before. With his choice of almost any woman in the nation, why would he still wish to bed her? He had only married her to begin with because he was betrothed to her. It had not taken him long to choose more wives to warm his bed. She tossed her long dark hair back over her shoulders, and took a deep breath. She promised herself she would be dignified in her reunion, as she left her apartments to join the King.

  ****

  David was thankful the King had dismissed him for a time. He had never seen anything quite like
the city of Jerusalem and the Palace it contained. He had almost strained his neck, craning to see up the tall walls of the city as the army rode in through the gates.

  Jonathan had shown him to his room and on the way he briefly pointed out the food stores in case he got hungry. After unpacking his small bundle of belongings, David began exploring. The halls were long and all looked the same to the young shepherd. He was not concerned as he stumbled on all sorts of amazing places. He found the immense dining room, with the mosaic tiles on the floor and tapestries of beautiful designs on the walls. As he left the main building, he discovered the food stores once again, stopping just long enough to cut himself some cheese and collect some dried fruit and nuts to nibble on as he continued his journey. The gardens were beautiful with the smell of flowers filling the air. He had been trying to find the training grounds of the army, in order to catch up with Jonathan and Martinez but still he had not found the way. Finally he decided he needed some help, asking the soldiers on guard at the palace entrance for directions.

  Chapter 13

  'I think you are getting a little old Martinez,' chided Jonathan as he shoulder struck his uncle in the chest.

  'I think you are just getting too cocky. I have never professed to be the best fighter. You on the other hand have a reputation to uphold,' laughed Martinez.

  'Ah, you have me there. So are you saying you are allowing me to win?' Jonathan panted between breaths.

  ‘Who said you were winning?’

  David had watched the fight practice unfold. Jonathan appeared to have the upper hand, yet his breathing was ragged. On the other hand, Martinez had appeared to leave himself open on a number of occasions. He had taken small blows in the process but did not seem the worse for them. In fact David noted his breathing was quite steady. Although his body ran with sweat, he was not done by a long shot. Martinez was open again on his left side. David knew that although he had a preferred side, he was apt with the sword in either hand. Martinez feigned a strike to Jonathan’s right side, leaving his left side unguarded. Jonathan took the bait. He moved forward to strike Martinez on his left side, while protecting where he was expecting the strike with his left dagger hand. Smoothly Martinez stepped forward onto his right foot, spun away from Jonathan’s strike and rotated fully around to take Jonathan smoothly with a strike to his lower back. The blow would most certainly have been fatal as it was just below the armour Jonathan wore. Martinez slightly lowered his stance, bending the knee on which he had spun. Jonathan grunted from the impact.

  'You were very lucky that was a practice sword or you would have been skewered my friend,' shouted David through chuckles.

  'Thank you so very much for stating the obvious David; I think my back knows this fact already.' Jonathan was rubbing the wound now. Saluting Martinez he excused himself, muttering something which sounded like hot bath and a strong drink.

  'I think you have bruised more than his back. That was a remarkable move and it came without warning. You should have been far more tired than Jonathan. How is it you maintained your stamina for so long?' David was truly amazed.

  'Economy of motion,’ was all Martinez said, in a way suggesting that David should know exactly what he was talking about.

  'Economy of motion?' David repeated shrugging his shoulders. 'What is that supposed to mean?'

  'Think about the fight; what did you notice that was most different about us as opponents? What was different about the way we fought?' Martinez looked expectantly at David, who puzzled over it for a time.

  'I am not sure, is this a trick question? Are you trying to baffle me? If I knew the answer I would not have asked the question.' David was a little impatient.

  'Exactly what you are feeling at the moment; impatience played a role in the battle. I am older than Jonathan, therefore he expected me to tire before him. He has fought me before so he was guarded. Imagine if you did not know me at all. I am an older man and you have no idea of my skills. A smart fighter would gauge their opponent, which Jonathan did, even though he knows me. He studied my fighting rhythms, yet he still had the arrogance of youth. In the back of his mind he was thinking he could outlast me. He allowed his guard to drop. He pushed a little too hard and became impatient when he could see he was not wearing me down as quickly as he had expected to. For my part I know I am getting older. My stamina is very good for my age but I still use economy of motion to ensure I do not waste unnecessary energy. Jonathan did not do this. He tired and eventually as the body tires, so too does the mind. He did not see me feign because he was tired. If he had not been, he would have recognised it instantly.' Martinez started to walk away as if this had answered all of David’s questions. On the contrary it had opened up his mind to so many more. David followed Martinez who was collecting up his weapons, together with a cloth which he used to wipe his hands and neck. Only now was he showing, by his sweat, the level of fatigue he had reached.

  ****

  Saul poured another goblet of watered wine. He knew he was drinking a little too much. He was suddenly feeling self-conscious about his decision to call Derai to him. She would not easily accept his advances after all this time. It was stupid of him to think so. Just as he was preparing to cancel his request his servant came into the room to announce her arrival. Derai walked into the apartment, standing tall and looking radiant as always. She was every bit the Queen, in nature as much as title. He was almost speechless.

  'Derai, how lovely to see you again. You really are looking beautiful as always,' he was amazed at how measured his welcome had been.

  'Why have you summoned me Saul? I have not seen you for years. Now you call me to you like a common prostitute.' She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. Dignified indeed, what a horrible way to start the reunion.

  Saul looked genuinely shattered. 'I am sorry my lord, I should not have spoken this way to you. I am truly not worthy. You know me, I have always been quick tempered.' She spoke somewhat defensively, however the intent was honest.

  'No, no my dear, I think you are possibly within your rights to be angry with me. I have not been as attentive to you as I should have been. Yet not for the reasons you may believe.' He left the comment not fully explained which raised Derai’s curiosity.

  'What reason would there be Saul, for not calling me to you for all these years?' She now took a seat beside him on his divan, the closeness of their bodies taking her back so many years. Taken off balance, Saul was suddenly uncomfortable; not only with Derai’s closeness, but also with the way he had begun to reveal his true feelings.

  'I have always cared deeply for you Derai. Even though you have taken on your duty as my wife wholeheartedly, I have always felt like you are not truly mine, body but not heart; if you understand what I mean?' He left his words there, feeling already that he had said too much. Derai touched his hands which were clasped firmly together in obvious discomfort. She had not seen him like this in all their time together. Always so confident, so in control was his nature. The role of a King was a position of authority and Saul had always worn it well. Yet today there was something different about him. He was opening up to her; she found his vulnerability very attractive. She was reminded of feelings she had felt for him so many years before.

  'I have always cared deeply for you too Saul. I knew you were aware I cared for someone before we were wed. Yet once we were married I took our relationship very seriously. I always felt you had tired of me, especially when I could not have another child. You seemed to lose interest in me. I felt it was because I was barren; then later because I had grown so much older and less attractive. She dropped her head now, looking at her own hands, which were now firmly clasped in her lap.

  'My dear, I have always and still do find you the most attractive woman, not only beautiful but honest, trustworthy, powerful and intelligent.'

  Derai began to feel tears rolling down her face, her body shuddered as she allowed years of emotion free. Saul moved close to her, wrapping his arm around her should
ers. She sobbed, 'I always believed you found me repulsive, somehow unattractive.'

  Saul did not speak he simply continued to hold her close to him. He stroked her hair and allowed her tears to cease in her own time. He was not far from joining her. He too felt close to tears knowing she had cared for him and not hated him all these years for taking her from her love. Derai looked up at him and he wiped away her tears. They sat in silence for some time, before Derai moved in to Saul, raising her lips to his. Saul was overwhelmed by the feelings which flowed through her kiss. This was not lust, this was raw emotion which came from the depths of his spirit. He lay down beside her on the divan caressing her face at first. His hand ran down her side, over her breast and onto her thigh. He gently lifted her tunic and ran his hand along the soft skin of her inner legs, which she parted as his hand reached the top. Saul had lost all sense of time. As Derai’s cries of pleasure erupted he became acutely aware of how much he had truly missed her. He raised himself on top of her as they continued to kiss. Every emotional fibre of his spirit was joined with hers in that moment as they become one again. He did not want the moment to end. He slowed himself deliberately to prolong the closeness. Derai cried out once more and Saul could no longer hold back. Spent now he kissed her neck & lips as her final rhythmic spasms ceased.

  Chapter 14

  Jezebel sat in her rooms, surrounded by her luggage. She surveyed the furnishings and stood to view her reflection in the full-length bronze mirror near her bed. A vase of enormous long stemmed lilies adorned the bedside table. She grabbed the bunch of flowers by the stems in one huge handful, wrenching them from their lifeblood. She strangled them with her fury and tossed them across the room into the mirror. Saul had not even shown his face on her arrival. Instead Martinez had showed her to her rooms, unceremoniously dumping her there without so much as a how was your journey? When she asked what she was supposed to do for the day, Martinez had opened the double doors to the courtyard. Go for a walk, get some fresh air; you look like you need to cool down. Oh, in that moment she was sure she was going to take him, to use him and suck the life out of him at some stage. Some time very soon she promised herself. She called for a servant to help her unpack her belongings. Something was wrong; she could not put her finger on it. For Saul not to greet her was most unexpected.