That didn’t mean that this monthly ceremony wasn’t important because when Ilumquh left the sky and it was dark, then all the evil spirits and Jinn had an opportunity to work their mischief. Bilqis had always feared that the Jinn would someday destroy the dam, and at the dark of the moon this was most likely to take place. The dam must be guarded carefully at this dangerous time, and then by sacrifice, incense, and special offerings the moon god would be encouraged to return and they would all be safe.
Already inside the oval place of meeting, the chalk-faced black-robed priestesses, dedicated to the god Ilumquh, were chanting and weeping. Old women, toothless and haggard, sat in the shadowy comers under the sheltering pillars that circled the inner temple, drumming ominous rhythms on the deep-bellied drums of fate. Castanets rattled frantically as the wailing mounted and a band of temple priestesses came through the far door. Their faces were painted into grimaces of pain and they walked with a jerking, dipping motion that made their loose hair and mourning rags shudder with suppressed anguish.
The air reeked with the odor of burned hair and hot blood mingled with stale incense. It was the odor of Ilumquh, a god who could be gentle as moonbeams but fierce as a raging bull when aroused. There had been times in the past when only a human sacrifice calmed his destructive nature. But that had been before the dam had been built. They with their wits had outsmarted Ilumquh, and there were no more droughts.
In the center of the open courtyard, priests could be seen dimly through the rancid smoke stoking the altar fire. From time to time one would come with a golden vessel and pour clotted blood on the altar’s horns. This was a signal for the priests to prostrate themselves or circle the altar chanting traditional songs of Ilumquh’s death.
Ilumquh’s earthly form was that of the bull, and there were carved alabaster bull’s heads on the four sides of the massive altar. At the height of the ceremony the golden bull that lived in the small temple beside the pillared hall was brought out into the open court. It was hoped he would protect them with his own special magic while Ilumquh was gone from the night sky.
No marriages took place at this time, no seed was planted, and no business transacted. The moonless night that followed was a night in which the dreaded Jinn worked their worst charms. Witches and ghouls were abroad and evil deeds prospered.
Bilqis sat in the special enclosure reserved for royalty while the people stood in the open courtyard watching the faint wraith of a crescent that the sick moon had become. As it drifted over the edge of the temple wall, a great wailing and beating of breasts, even pulling of hair and loud chanting, erupted. Ilumquh had sickened and was dead.
As the ceremony came to an end, Bilqis moved toward her palanquin. She was eager to leave the stench and depressing air of Ilumquh’s temple. Suddenly she noticed her maidens drawing back, even bowing, with a look of awe and fear on their faces. Bilqis turned and in the light of a waxed taper she saw the High Priest himself coming toward her. He made her feel uneasy. He wore the crown of Ilumquh with the dread eagle mask hanging by a cord around his neck. His ornate gold-encrusted robes were stained with blood, and there was the odor of burned flesh and singed hair that was stronger than the incense. His beard was clipped to a point and his eyes were cold.
Now as at other times in the past, it was his hands that bothered her the most. His fingers were long and tapered, always nervously plucking at things. He seemed to be constantly questioning, probing, and divining the worst in any situation.
Bilqis wished that her father had chosen another one of the priests for this office. Though he made an impressive sight before the great altar and his voice had power to make even brave men tremble, there was something almost sinister about Il Hamd. He was ambitious, even ruthless, where his interests were concerned. However, he needed her support and so she trusted him.
“My queen,” the High Priest said, bowing only slightly and not waiting for her recognition before he continued, “since I am the great Ilumquh’s high priest, it is my duty to warn you. If you don’t choose a consort soon there will be much trouble.”
“Trouble? Who will dare to cause trouble? It’s a private matter.”
“Nothing is private when one is a queen. It’s been three years since you came to the throne and still there is no consort.”
“Why now? Why are you bringing this up now?”
“The stars are in the right position for success. Your tribe demands it and the people are waiting. Who knows what evil will come upon us if there is no heir to the throne. At the time of the new moon, I will come for your answer.”
“What do you mean, my answer?”
“Why, I will expect you to have chosen someone from your tribe or one of the noble sheiks that have come forward with offers of marriage.”
Bilqis tossed her head defiantly. “I’ll have none of them,” she said emphatically.
“But you must not take the matter of the stars and their control so lightly. Think what it would mean to Sheba if there is no heir.”
“The men you’ve mentioned are all greedy vultures plotting to wear the crown of Sheba.”
“But you must understand. All the omens both in the stars and the sheep’s liver, the flying bats, and the drawing of the chances point to this time as being right for your marriage. When the people hear …”
“Then tell the people that when someone comes that is not self-seeking and greedy, someone who is strong, someone I can admire, then I’ll give myself, but not before.”
“You are asking the impossible. Only a god would fit that description. Tomorrow I will come for your decision.”
“You will have my decision right now. Until someone suitable is found, I will remain as I am.”
“So you have rejected the son of your uncle and the finest princes of Sheba as well as the neighboring kings. There is no one left but the god himself, Ilumquh.” His words were stern and harsh and Bilqis knew that he meant just what he said.
“And what if I choose the god Ilumquh?”
For a moment he seemed stunned. Then with a quick intake of breath he said, “Then you would come on the night of Ilumquh’s full strength and spend the night in his pillared pavilion. Hopefully you would conceive.”
“I would bring my maidens and …”
“You would have to come alone.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I must have your answer at the rising of the new moon. If you want strength, what could be stronger than Ilumquh?” With that he bowed low and disappeared into the shadows as quickly as he had appeared.
Bilqis was first angry and then frustrated. She wondered which of her relatives had thought of this. It was a trick. If she didn’t accept her cousin, then she would have to accept the strange ritual of coming to the temple as the bride of Ilumquh. It was impossible to refuse Ilumquh. The High Priest and her relatives were counting on this very thing. Of course they expected her to become what they called “reasonable” and marry her cousin. She would have to think about it. There must be some way out of this dilemma.
The torches had been extinguished and the great hall was almost clear of people. Only some old hags remained, and they were leisurely sweeping the marble floor with short brooms made of reeds. The fire on the altar was dying down and the golden calf stood gleaming on his pedestal. Bilqis paused to glance in his direction. Suddenly his ruby eyes flashed and glinted, emitting some strange power that seemed to paralyze her.
With a gasp of horror she turned from the fearful sight and hurried out the door and down the marble steps to her palanquin. Once inside she ordered the curtains closed tightly and the bearers to hurry. She had been badly shaken, but by the time she reached the palace she was composed and determined to block the whole episode from her mind.
The next morning when she came to the Hall of Judgment, she noticed it was more crowded than usual. She noticed there were some Egyptians of rank present and she wondered what they would propose. She must remember to save time for them after the usual
business of the day.
As she entered, the people fell to the floor in waves, leaving a path down which she walked. Her eunuchs, great black Nubians given her by the Egyptian pharaoh, stood behind her throne while her counselors came and went among the people sorting out the most important cases. With a flourish of standards and the traditional shout of allegiance from the people, she mounted the six steps and seated herself on her throne.
Always at such times she felt the exhilaration of the challenge before her. Her counselors were cultured, learned men who were quick to notice any flaw in her judgment. She could see in their eyes the constant questioning of her ability to hold this exalted position. She could demand nothing of them. She must rule by her wits and she must never take anything for granted.
The morning went quickly and she was satisfied with the judgments she had made. She could see approval in the eyes of some of the older men, and she knew she had not disappointed them. Though her power was absolute and her decisions were final, still she needed this encouragement.
The last case was brought by one of her father’s old counselors. He was loyal and helpful to her for her father’s sake, but he was known as a man to be feared. The man with him was obviously wealthy. “Saiid Majd comes with a complaint against this young man and his mother,” the counselor said.
The counselor had mounted the steps to the throne and was holding his voice to a low level so no one else could hear. “The young man has had the audacity to accuse Saiid Majd of moving the boundary stones at the edge of his property.”
“Let the young man or his mother speak,” Bilqis ordered.
The young man hung back, but his mother pushed him forward. He fell on his knees while everyone laughed at his confusion. “My father left the land to us,” he managed to say before the counselor interrupted.
“You can see, my queen, that this young man is still a child. It’s impossible for him to care for the land, and his mother is incapable of hard labor.”
At this the woman rushed forward and threw herself at the queen’s feet. “Your majesty,” she said, “we are poor people. This piece of land is all my son has as an inheritance. Both of us are willing to work from morning to night.”
“It is better this woman goes back to her father’s house,” the counselor said in clipped tones.
“It is a small parcel of land,” the wealthy man said, shrugging his shoulders.
“It is all my son has from his father. Never will he be able to get more land that is near the dam and well irrigated.”
At this point Bilqis looked at the wealthy man and then at the crowd of her own counselors. It was obvious they cared nothing for the woman’s problem. It had never been expedient to side with the poor. It was settled from the beginning. The woman should never have brought her son. She should never have complained. It was best that she go home to her father.
“It is settled,” Bilqis said. “The marker remains.”
She was pleased to see the instant approval on the faces of her counselors and the gloating look of triumph that passed over the wealthy man’s face. She had made what they all considered a wise decision.
She hardly noticed the woman and her son leaving the hall of judgment as Saiid Hajd knelt before her in gratitude and her chief adviser, Aidel, leaned forward and whispered, “Very wise, my queen. The boy and his mother have no influence or position while this man can be of great service to you. Wisdom means using your power to gain the greatest advantage to yourself.”
Bilqis did not answer but instead ordered her eunuchs to clear the audience chamber of everyone but her chief counselors. The cases that had not been dealt with would have to wait until the next day. She had other, more important business to tend to. It had been whispered that an Egyptian officer of rank waited in the vestibule with urgent news from the pharaoh.
In the confusion and turmoil that followed as the people were led from the hall, she found herself thinking again of her uncle and the tribesmen who were pressuring her to marry. “I’ll never marry that weak, sniveling cousin. It’ll serve them right if I surprise them and choose Ilumquh instead.”
She saw that her uncle and cousin had remained with her counselors. This was their right, but it irritated her. Her resolve was firming to meet the god himself. To bear a son by that god. What power that would give her son. She couldn’t even imagine what such an encounter would be like. She ran her hand over the leopard-skin covering of the cushion she sat on. Here in Sheba their emblem was the leopard, and on festive occasions she wore the skin with the head fitted over one shoulder and the smooth, spotted hide draped down over her back. Leopards weren’t afraid of anything, and neither was she. Even the god’s lustful, ruby eyes were not going to frighten her.
Slowly she became aware of the silence that filled the room and realized her counselors were all assembled and waiting. With a nod of her head the trumpets were raised and the great doors opened, revealing a group of richly dressed men surrounding a fat, balding dignitary that was obviously the Egyptian ambassador.
As usual they prostrated themselves before the throne and had brought an array of elegant gifts from the pharaoh. Finally, as the pages and slaves moved back, Bilqis invited the ambassador to join her at the throne.
When he was at last settled and had delivered his pharaoh’s greetings and small personal messages, he proceeded to pull a scroll of papyrus from an intricately decorated silver case hung on his girdle. With great deliberation he unrolled it and handed it to one of the scribes to read.
The message was more direct and less flowery than usual, and the whole assembly was impressed with the urgency of the pharaoh’s concern. “A certain king named Solomon is planning to bypass the old trade routes,” the scribe began and proceeded to read at length all that the pharaoh had gleaned from the threatening venture.
When the scribe had finished, Bilqis spoke slowly and deliberately. “I know of this king and have heard rumors of this venture. He is famous for his wisdom and rules in a mountainous area very far from the sea. I would think it impossible for him to find men to build the ships, master the monsoons, and find the merchandise.”
“The pharaoh has definite proof that the ships have already been built and have made at least one voyage down the Red Sea.”
“May I ask what proof he has?”
Here the ambassador leaned over so the court could not hear him as he whispered, “It is on the best authority. The pharaoh’s sister is married to Solomon and reports everything that happens to her brother.”
“She is a spy.”
“You might say so.”
“Does Solomon know?”
“Of course not. He loves and trusts her.”
“And what does the pharaoh suggest we do?”
“It is quite simple. If all of us along the various trade routes band together and hold firm, we can defeat him and bring his fancy plans to naught.”
“And?”
“If it comes to war we will march together. He cannot stand against us.”
“I would like to think there is a better way.”
The ambassador looked puzzled. “It would be hard to find a better way, but we are always ready to listen.”
“I have no plan right now. Now is the time to gather facts. We must find out all we can about the fleet of ships and even the king that has dared attempt such a thing. Perhaps nothing will come of it.”
“And if no other way can be found?”
For a moment Bilqis was silent, studying his face. When she spoke it was with strength and determination. “Then we will cast our lot with Egypt. We have no other choice.”
With a few other formalities she dismissed the ambassador and his men. They would be well entertained, and in the meantime she was determined to glean more information. Turning to one of the pages, she ordered, “I have been told the camel driver named Badget has again been seen at the gate. Go find him for me. I want to talk to him.” With that she dismissed them with a wave of her hand.
&nb
sp; The two sleek, well-groomed leopards were led out by their trainers, the banners were taken from their sockets by eunuchs, and the palace guards lowered their spears as they walked in front of the queen leaving the Nubians to march in formation behind her.
Late that night Badget was found sitting by the fire at the local inn talking to some of the other traders. He was at first frightened and then pleased to hear that the queen wanted to see him. “She wants to hear certain news of your king,” he was told by the messenger. Badget was always ready to spread the news he gained on his travels and to be called by the queen would give him more to tell in the future.
The queen had decided to receive him in the informal atmosphere of her outdoor pavilion. Badget found her seated on a dais covered with leopard skins. A taster sipped from a silver goblet and then handed it to the queen.
Bilqis drank slowly from the goblet but kept her eyes on Badget, who had fallen prostrate on the ground before her with his head touching the ground. As she handed the goblet back to the servant, she motioned to Badget. “You may rise,” she said.
Badget scrambled to his feet and took the seat she had prepared for him on the ground before the dais. “I am at your service,” he said in his most contrite manner.
“I see that you are used to appearing before royalty.”
“I’ve had my opportunities,” he said, trying hard to keep from smiling his pleasure.
“Tell me, has this king of yours really sailed ships down the Red Sea?”
“They have made their first trip, your highness.”
“But the storms and winds of the monsoons. Is he not afraid of them?”
Badget’s eyes grew large. Here was an opportunity to brag. “Your highness, this is no problem to one such as Solomon. He controls the rains and keeps the four winds in bags under his throne.”
“Come now. He is certainly a human being and not a god.”
Abraham and Sarah Page 36