by D. J. Niko
Solomon entered behind him. Though he did not display wealth and power in the Egyptian fashion, the king of Israel was resplendent in his youth, something Psusennes, though new to the throne, no longer had. Solomon scanned the room and caught Zadok’s gaze for a long moment. The priest bowed deeply to his king.
Behind the regal men came the women of the court: Psusennes’ mother, Neskhonsu of Thebes, followed by the Great Royal Wife and her two daughters. When the royals had been delivered to a platform meant to separate them from their subjects, the others scattered onto seats placed around the room. The servants entered the room carrying big trays of fruit on their shoulders, which they placed on low tables next to each seat, and clay jars full of beer.
Zadok partook meagerly of what was offered. The guests around him were talking in a low murmur and holding up their glasses for the servants to refill. The young women who sat together fed morsels to each other with their henna-dyed fingertips and giggled, their eyes darting around the room. Everything smelled of myrrh and musk.
He felt uncomfortable, not only because the Egyptian culture was so unfamiliar but also because he was so detached from Solomon. Since the beginning of the king’s reign, Zadok had been by his side, advising him and nurturing his spirit. Seeing Solomon separate from his people, with the greedy Egyptian pharaoh whispering in his ear, made him recoil.
After a period that seemed eternal, Zadok could no longer sit in the stuffy room and pretend to be merry. He clutched his chest and gasped for a fresh breath, but only the scent of stewed mutton and charred waterfowl filled his nostrils. He rose and made his way to the terrace as quickly as he could.
The Nile was as black as spilled ink, and its waters rose and fell gently, like a sigh. Zadok looked to the sky and saw a myriad stars, none of which he recognized. Somewhere up there, he thought, was the bright star that always hung above Jerusalem like a promise, lighting the path of the Hebrews even in the darkest nights.
“Zadok.” Solomon’s deep voice was a comforting sound. “Are you well?”
The priest turned around. “My lord, you should not be here. You mustn’t leave the pharaoh’s side. It’s protocol.”
“I sought permission from our host to check on you. When you stood to leave, you looked pale and ill.”
“Do not worry about me, my lord. I only needed air.”
“Very well, then.” Solomon paused and looked out to the river. “I know this place is strange to you. It is to me as well. But we must bear it for a few more days until we make a pact. If all goes according to my plan, it will be a worthwhile sacrifice.”
“Yes, my lord.” Zadok’s voice sounded more tentative than he intended.
The king smiled. His countenance was so serene as to seem angelic. Zadok was struck as never before by his beauty. The sculpted bones of his face were defined by the wan torchlight and his honey-colored skin glowed like polished amber. His glossy black curls spilled haphazardly around his face, framing eyes the color of new chestnuts. The golden, twelve-pointed crown that encircled his head seemed like a natural extension of him, as if he’d been born with it.
“Come, Zadok,” Solomon said. “It is impolite to keep Pharaoh waiting.”
Zadok followed the king inside, remaining ten paces behind as protocol commanded. Solomon’s scarlet mantle billowed behind him as he walked with that regal gait of his. With every stride, the ample woolen fabric swelled like a flag in the breeze, and he seemed to float above the ashlar floor.
A few steps before the entrance to the banquet hall, the mantle deflated as Solomon stopped abruptly. Zadok approached to see what the matter was and saw a young woman standing opposite the king.
She seemed as surprised as he did by the chance encounter. Her eyes, the color of the Nile at midnight and outlined in a smear of black kohl that extended to her temples, betrayed her bewilderment. She was an exquisite creature, obviously a member of the upper class. Lustrous raven hair, held in place by a silver band with inlaid colored glass, hung to her shoulder blades. Her brown skin, unblemished and taut, shimmered beneath diaphanous white linen draped artfully around a white modesty sheath. Around her neck hung a golden collar with spokes that recalled the sun’s rays, and on her feet were sandals of leather decorated with feathers.
She did not wear the perfume cone, yet she was redolent of roses and myrrh with a vague hint of cinnamon. Solomon stared at her, clearly taken by her beauty.
Like a frightened cat, she diverted her eyes and dashed away, disappearing inside the arcade of stone pillars.
The king’s gaze followed her until she was completely out of view.
“My lord,” Zadok said.
For a long moment there was silence. He repeated: “My lord?”
“A lily among thorns.” Solomon inhaled the air still perfumed by her presence. “I must know who she is.”
7
Three days passed before Psusennes was ready to grant audience. There was much to tend to, he’d said, as the inundation began to retreat and a new season of harvest was upon the people of Egypt.
Solomon and his men were well cared for in the interim. Every two hours, servants came to the guest quarters bearing jugs of pomegranate wine and great platters of food: goat seasoned with cumin, fish from the Nile, pigeons roasted in earthen ovens, bread loaves with coriander seeds, figs, dates, plums, and melons. Music was a staple as harpists were stationed on the courtyard and ordered to play day until night.
On the morning of the meeting with the pharaoh, Zadok went outside to greet the dawn. The humid air lubricated his aging bones and put a measure of swiftness in his step, so he went for a long walk in the gardens.
The song of the hoopoe kept him company as he navigated the moist red earth paths meandering through the plum orchards. The mud soaked the bottom of his tunic and felt cold against his bare feet. He often walked shoeless; it brought him closer to the ground and put him in a meditative disposition.
As the first light broke through the gray clouds, he thought of Solomon. Since the night of the banquet, the king had been pensive. When Zadok questioned him, he said he was gathering his wits for the day of negotiation. But a priest always knew what was in a man’s heart.
He hoped the obsession with the foreign girl was a passing fancy. Zadok entertained a vague worry but did not let it settle. He wanted to believe Solomon’s trained mind had told him she was an exotic stranger and nothing more.
There he was. Beneath a plum tree, the king kneeled toward the rising sun and prayed. Zadok walked in a wide arc so as not to disturb his peace and stood behind him.
Solomon extended a hand. “Come, Zadok.”
The priest sat next to him. He gazed toward the clouded horizon and the fingers of light piercing through it. “Every time I think I have strayed too far from home,” Zadok said, “I look at the dawn and am reminded of the Lord’s ubiquitous presence.”
“If only we realized we all live beneath the same sky, warmed by the same sun, there would not be so much conflict,” Solomon said.
“Not every man is as wise as you, my lord.”
Solomon squinted toward the light. “I have been thinking, Zadok. It is time for me to take a wife.”
“It is, my lord. When we return, the men will find Israel’s most beautiful and gentle-hearted maidens that you may choose your heart’s desire.”
“The girl from the banquet . . . did you find out who she was, as I asked you?”
Zadok felt a needling in his gut. “She is Pharaoh’s daughter by one of his minor wives. Her name is Nicaule Tashere.”
“A princess.”
“Far removed. She has no rights to the throne.”
“Does she have her father’s favor?”
“I do not know this.” He cast a hard look at Solomon. “The rumor is Shoshenq, the commander of the army, has his eye on her.”
The corner of Solomon’s mouth curled into a smile. “Does he, indeed?”
“My lord, what thoughts go through your mind? Surely yo
u don’t intend—”
Solomon put a hand up. “Leave me be, Zadok. I am seeking the Lord’s counsel. That is all I will say.” He got to his feet. “I will go now and prepare. We meet with Psusennes after the morning meal.”
Zadok bit his lip. “Yes, my lord.”
He watched the king walk away and sighed. He had learned that if Solomon made up his mind about something, swaying him from it would be like stopping the headwaters of the Nile.
The pharaoh’s throne sat at the end of a long, narrow corridor lined on either side with thick papyrus columns painted in brilliant shades of crimson and indigo and decorated with gold leaf. The walls were painted with scenes from palace life: the pharaoh being crowned by the sun god Ra, royal subjects sitting beneath trees of plenty, slaves tilling the ripe soil on the banks of the Nile.
Solomon and his entourage entered the throne room in a formal procession. First came four men bearing gifts on a platform they carried upon their shoulders. They stopped in front of the pharaoh and presented the bounty of foodstuffs and wine from the Levant and silver and gold from Solomon’s private cache. The Egyptian ruler nodded in approval and sent the men away. Then he gestured to Solomon to sit in the chair next to his.
Psusennes was dressed in full court regalia. His head was covered with an indigo-striped cloth held in place at the forehead by a golden band. A black false beard, woven like a tight braid, protruded from his chin. Around his neck he wore a necklace depicting a winged scarab holding a sun disc of polished amber. Two gold cuffs with inlaid lapis bound his wrists.
He was accompanied by a female leopard with fierce green eyes and a killer’s gaze. As he sat, the paunch of plenty hung over his waist, which was cinched by a band of lion’s hide culminating in a set of claws. The cat curled itself around his feet.
“Solomon, esteemed king of Israel.” His voice was surprisingly high-pitched. “What brings you here this day?”
“Psusennes, lord and overseer of the vast Egyptian empire, I come in peace. Our nations can benefit greatly from one another.”
The pharaoh fingered the tip of his false beard. “And what is it you propose?”
“I have observed the building of your water network connecting the river with the sea—an ambitious undertaking considering the capricious behavior of the Nile.”
“Our progress is slow. We must work only when the river is at its lowest point, for the water is a hindrance.”
“If you had twice the labor force, it would go more quickly. It appears you need more men. Trained men.”
“We have every able-bodied man in Lower Egypt working on the project.”
Solomon sat back on his chair and tapped his fingers together. “We have constructed an elaborate water system in Jerusalem, and my men know the challenges of such a venture. I can offer you my best engineers as well as thirty-score laborers to work alongside your men. You need not pay them, for they will be in Israel’s employ; you simply will provide them with shelter and food.” He paused and scanned Psusennes’ eyes. “But be mindful these are guests in your kingdom, not slaves. They must be treated well. We must not repeat the mistakes of our forefathers.”
The pharaoh raised an eyebrow painted with black kohl. “Your generosity overwhelms me. Very well. You have my word your men will be treated fairly and honorably.” He leaned forward. “Tell me, Solomon. What is it you require in return?”
Solomon smiled. “Word may have traveled that a great temple is rising on the highest place in Jerusalem. This is the house I promised my father I would build to glorify our God, and I mean to keep my promise. So help me, it will be the finest structure in all of Israel and the Near East. I hope you will honor me and come to see it when it is finished.”
“Of course. But what does this have to do with Egypt?”
“In order to finish the temple, there is something I need that you, my lord Psusennes, can help me acquire.”
“Say it.”
“The most sanctified part of this house will be covered from the floor to the roof in pure gold—so much of it, we must look beyond our boundaries to find it. I have trained my eyes on Ophir, for I need a thousand talents to finish the work.”
The pharaoh’s slate eyes widened. “A thousand talents! That is more than all the gold in all the tombs of Egypt’s great kings.” He looked Solomon up and down. “The king of Israel has a taste for splendor.”
Zadok read the insult in Psusennes’ words. The Egyptians had long thought the Israelites inferior. Despite the amicable climate of their meeting and the mutual appetite for cooperation, that ingrained prejudice seeped out like milk from an old, threadbare bladder. He watched Solomon’s reaction. The king blinked slowly but did not change his expression. Zadok knew he was wise enough to let it go and refocus on the task at hand.
“My men sail to Ophir with the Tyrians,” Solomon said. “Their mission is to come back with a ship full of gold. But, alas, the lion’s portion of that gold is spoken for by Egypt.”
“And you wish for me to relinquish my hold on that supply. The hold it took me and my forefathers long years to establish.” He laughed.
“I could pay the Ophirians double and test their loyalty. But it is not my way to employ such underhanded means. I like to conduct my business man to man.” He leaned forward and extended an open palm. “So I will pay that money to you. I want you to sell me part of your supply at a profit.”
Psusennes swallowed hard. He was rendered mute by the offer.
“Moreover, I am prepared to forgo levies on trade between our two nations, so long as there is peace. Israel will not charge Egypt tariffs on livestock, foodstuffs, pottery, or spices—and, of course, we would expect the same courtesy.”
The pharaoh folded his arms across his chest. The gold of his wrist cuff gleamed as a ray of light entered through a window shaft. “You are a smart man, Solomon. There has not been a leader like you in Canaan land. A new day dawns for Israel.”
“A new day dawns for peace between old enemies. Do you accept my offer?”
Psusennes smiled sideways. “I accept. I will order my scribes to record a treaty, and it will stand testament for all to see.”
Zadok exhaled. It was done. It was a costly alliance, but the end would justify the means. In a climate of peace and open trade, Israel could also count on Egypt’s support on the military front should it be attacked by neighboring nations. In the ever-warring territories of the Near East, this was a prospect as good as all the gold in Ophir. Zadok caught Solomon’s eye for a moment and nodded his approval.
“To mark the treaty,” the pharaoh continued, “I offer you gifts of precious gems and gold to take back to your kingdom. And twoscore of my best horses besides.”
“You are most gracious, my lord,” Solomon said. “But the only way to seal our alliance is through marriage.”
Zadok started. This was not part of the plan.
The pharaoh shook his head. “Egyptian royal daughters are not given to foreigners. Not even to kings.”
“Your daughters by your queen are to wed Egyptian royalty; I know this. I ask for one who does not aspire to the throne. A daughter by a minor wife.”
Psusennes looked at the bold king in silence.
Solomon continued. “The beauty of Nicaule Tashere is like none other. I wish to make her my queen. She will want for nothing. And you, my lord Psusennes, will be assured of a supreme ally in the Near East to the end of your days. Israel and Egypt will be bound not only by a pact but also by blood.”
Zadok closed his eyes and lowered his head. Solomon had gone too far. Surely he knew the Lord opposed such a union. Do not marry foreign women, Yahweh had warned his people Israel, for they will turn your heart to other gods. Zadok viewed Nicaule as particularly dangerous in that regard. Solomon may have claimed he was merely trying to cement a political alliance, but the bare truth was he desired her in a way that robbed him of sleep at night. How far would he go to please such a woman?
“If I were to grant your re
quest,” Psusennes said, “I would have conditions. First, my daughter must never be required to venerate your god. She must be free to practice her customs and worship in her own way. Second, she must have her own palace with every comfort and be tended to by her own staff of Egyptians who will accompany her from the motherland. Third, any children she bears must learn the Egyptian tongue and be schooled in the heritage of their mother as well as their father. None of these are optional.”
Solomon did not hesitate. “I accept your conditions. Every one.”
“Then it shall be done. She will be ready to depart with your caravan tomorrow morning. We will celebrate the union this eve.” He stood and bowed, and Solomon mirrored his movements. “Go in peace, Hebrew brother.”
Zadok followed his king out of the room and into the courtyard. He squinted as the daylight assaulted his eyes.
Solomon spoke over his shoulder. “I know you don’t approve of what I’ve done, but time will prove my actions prudent.”
Zadok did not hold back. “You have disregarded the Lord’s covenant. He will not be pleased.”
The king halted and swung round. “Blasphemy! Do you think I did not seek the Lord’s counsel? Do you believe I would do this if the Lord our God did not sanction it? You must remember this, Zadok: I am Yahweh’s chosen. I communicate with him on a deeper level than you can imagine.”
Zadok stood his ground. “You are navigating dark waters, my lord.”
“There will be no more said of this.” He drew a deep breath and spoke calmly. “I do not wish to quarrel with you, Zadok. Go now and ready yourself, for tonight we celebrate my marriage.”
The priest looked away as his king turned and walked across the courtyard. In his mind’s eye flashed an image of fire . . . villages burning, women and children running scared, black smoke rising like an infernal beast. It was Yahweh’s wrath, and it was coming.
8
Nicaule languished in the bath despite the lateness of the hour. The banquet feast would begin at any moment, but she was in no hurry to get there.