Kiss of the Virgin Queen

by Sharon Buchbinder

  He raised a huge paw with razor sharp claws, and the girl moaned as her stomach writhed with contractions. Startled, the possessed werewolf dropped her.

  It was just the distraction she needed. Now or never. Eliana pulled off her glove and held up her left hand. “I order you to obey the Seal of Solomon.”

  He roared, leaped at Ellie, and knocked the loose ring off. It clanked as it hit the concrete floor.

  He wrapped his front paws around her waist. “You’re mine and you’re coming with me to the world of the jinnis.” He sniffed her neck. “You’ve been with a man. Did you think losing your virginity would protect you from me?” He whispered. “He is nothing. I will take you over and over again, until you die from exhaustion.”

  She struggled, elbowing his gut and stomping on his foot with her bare feet. Where the hell was her back up? If they didn’t get here soon, she’d be trapped in another dimension. He put a paw over her eyes and chortled, “Hang on, we’re going now.”

  A lion roared.

  The ‘Ifrit shouted, “Shirzad! You will not defeat me this time!” He shoved Eliana away and charged at the black-maned lion.

  She spotted the ring under a pipe and grabbed it. Turning to the toolbox, she fought with the clasps and flipped the top open. She placed the ring back on her hand, and as the lion roared, she shouted, “I command you into this container.”

  The jinni swirled out of the huge werewolf’s mouth, shrieking. The old werewolf dropped like an empty gunny sack. Arta roared over and over and leaped at the evil one. Eliana commanded him again, this time calling on higher power. “In the name of the Lord, by the power of Solomon’s Seal, I command you into this iron box.”

  The jinni clung to the sides, howling, “Noooooooo!” until Eliana slammed the lid shut and snapped the clasps closed. The toolbox rocked, shuddered, and fell over, but remained sealed. He was contained. For now.

  Where the huge brown werewolf had been, now lay a shriveled up elderly man with a ragged ear. Non-responsive to her attempts to revive him, Old Thiess did not survive the jinni possession. Eliana turned to assist the werewolf girl. She, too, wasn’t breathing. No pulse. Blue lips. The baby, she had to try to save the baby. She pumped on the girl’s chest, breathed into her mouth, and attempted CPR for ten minutes, to no avail. The girl and the baby were gone. Exhausted, Eliana wrapped her arms around the lion’s neck, threaded her fingers through his mane, and sobbed. At last, she wiped her eyes, cleared her throat, and pressed the radiocomm.

  “Didn’t you hear us down here? Where the hell is everyone?”

  The undercover nurse, whatever her name was, responded. “We had nothing but static. All the access routes to the basement were locked. We just got the elevators to work.”

  She shook her head. The jinni had thought of everything. “We have five dead down here. The guard, a nurse, Old Thiess, the girl, and the baby. You’d better send two lead-lined coffins.”

  Arta pawed at the toolbox. He was right. They had to do something with that.

  “And, we’re going to need to transport a radioactive container to a water cooled reactor for decontamination.”

  “Good God.”

  “Exactly.” The werewolf girls had been pawns in the jinni’s game, a tool to draw Eliana into an elaborate chase. She’d been the real target all along. The ‘Ifrit loved playing mind games, just like Arta said. Eliana knelt beside the lifeless werewolf girl. “I’m so sorry you gave your life because of me. I wish I could do something to make it up to you.” She reached over to stroke the girl’s hair. Something moved beneath the hospital gown—and wailed.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jerusalem and Aksum, 930-929 B.C.E.

  Solomon sat in his private chambers carefully applying ink strokes to the scroll before him. This was to be his final version of this proverb, perfect for the past year he’d spent with his wise son, David/Menelik, and his foolish son, Rehoboam. A wise son maketh a glad father: but a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother. The heaviness of his mother, indeed. He’d never been able to prove Naamah had hired the midwife to murder David/Menelik at birth, but in his heart, he knew she was guilty.

  Never an easy woman, his bitter wife had been filled with the venom of jealousy. Each person she spoke to, it seemed, became infected by her snake bite. The rumbles were not kept secret. In fact, one of the Elders had come to him to entreat him to reconsider David’s kingship. How would it look, they asked, if you continue to reject your first born? At least give Rehoboam co-regency with his half-brother. That would be the fair thing, he argued.

  “Co-regency does not work. Ask my dead brother, Adonijah.”

  “That’s not a fair comparison. Your brother sought to be king without your father’s blessing.”

  “He sought to undermine my rule like a colony of termites. The surface intact, the plague of insects would suck the life out of my royal house.”

  “You are alive and healthy. You can give Rehoboam your blessing, bring him to your side to learn to be a great ruler like you.”

  “My foolish son does not follow God’s laws, except in his talk. He swills wine, eats like a swine, visits harlots every day. Is that what you want for your next king?”

  The Elder looked down. “David is—foreign. Not born here, not been raised with the congregation of Israel. His ways are—”

  “The same as ours. His mother converted to our ways before she returned to Sheba. David became a man in the way of all our men. He is circumcised, of that I can attest. He attends services and celebrates the holidays more earnestly than many born here in Israel.”

  “But—”

  “Enough. Just because you do not understand my decision, or because Naamah bent your ear for the past year, does not mean my wisdom left me. Were Rehoboam to become ruler, all would suffer and the kingdom of Israel would be destroyed. I will not speak of this with you any longer. Leave.”

  “Ooo-poo!” The garrulous descendant of his first feathered companion interrupted his train of thoughts. “Trouble comes this way.”

  “It cannot be Naamah. She is forbidden to approach me.”

  “No, it’s worse. The entire Council of Elders is in the courtyard. They are arguing with Benaiah, they want to meet with you and David.”

  “David is busy. The scribe is teaching him how to write in our language.”

  A hoarse shout traveled through the window. “We demand to meet with the king now.”

  If he did not allow them to approach the throne, they would only grow angrier. Solomon threw down his brush in disgust. “Hoopoe, tell David to meet me in the courtroom.”

  This had gone far enough; he would put a stop to this nonsense today. Had they no respect for the throne? His word was law.

  “Father.” David/Menelik bent his knee and bowed his head. His son’s red wolf lay down on the floor and covered his face with his paws.

  A rush of affection filled Solomon’s chest. How much he loved this young man. Respectful, compassionate, smart, industrious, a good listener. Makeda had prepared him well to be a king. “Arise, my son—and companion. I wish to put my arms around you.” He pulled David to his chest and hugged his son’s rock hard muscles with all his strength. “You are like a great cedar of Lebanon.”

  “My mother insisted I be able to hunt and fight, as she did and her father before her. She bested me in many a competition until I became a man. I must confess, she is still better at conquering a predator without raising a spear. Her gift is stronger than mine.”

  “Sometimes age is a good thing. You learn what works and does not work. You’ve learned about how I distribute justice here. I suspect your mother’s approach is like mine.”

  David laughed. “Yes, but every now and again, she must kill someone to make sure they know she’s still in charge. I haven’t seen you do that.”

  Solomon lowered his voice. “That is where my old friend, Benaiah, takes over.”

  “Ah.” David glanced at the captain. “He knows you well.”

>   “Yes, he even understands why and when I allow those unruly Elders to come see me.” He nodded at Benaiah. “Let them in.” He motioned to David to sit in a throne at his side. It wasn’t as elaborate as the one the Queen of Sheba had graced, but it was gold and ivory, encrusted with jewels, suitable for the next king of Israel.

  The Council of Elders straggled into the throne room and bent their knees, some with more difficulty than others. To his surprise, Zadok was among them. What was his game? Enough. “You wished to see me. What is your purpose?”

  Zadok pushed to the front. “We are concerned about a revolution.”

  “What treachery is this?”

  The high priest, his eyes filmy with age, gazed at Solomon, a look of pity on his face. “Your people are not happy with your choice of a new king. They say he is a foreigner, bent on destroying Israel, taking it over so Shebans can steal its riches.”

  Solomon glanced at his son. White knuckled, David gripped the arms of his throne and glared at the priest.

  “My son is here. You speak as if he is not present. Where is your respect?”

  “Did I not anoint him? Would I have done that if I did not respect you and him? It is not I who bear these grudges. Your actions opened old wounds and resurrected fears. At this moment, I serve only as your people’s mouthpiece.”

  “I serve as God’s voice. Did you forget?”

  “Never. Your people need assurances.”

  “Go back to your tents and tend to your business. I shall tend to mine and that of the kingdom.”

  “Father—” David inclined his head. “May I speak?”

  Solomon leaned back in his seat. This should prove interesting. “Please.”

  “Father, High Priest Zadok, Council of Elders. I heard great things of my father and his kingdom and they were all true. As an honored guest in Israel for twelve moons, I learned much, grew to love my father and his country like my own.” He paused. “I miss my home. I long to see my countrymen.” He smiled. “I miss my mother. With your permission, Father, I wish to return home to Sheba. My heart is already there. Let my body follow.”

  Solomon locked gazes with his son. Never had he been so proud in his life. David read the situation and salvaged everyone’s pride. He showed his respect for his father and rescued the nation of Israel from turmoil and strife. He wished he could keep this young man at his side. It was not meant to be. He would suffer the loss of his son, but not lightly. His vision blurred with unshed tears, he spoke in a soft voice. “You are as honorable and as wise as your mother.”

  David inclined his head. “Thank you.”

  “I will allow you to return to Sheba, under one condition.” Solomon turned to the assembled group before him and raised his voice. “As it is in Israel, so shall it be in Sheba. On my right and left stand the leading men of Israel. Therefore, each of you shall send your first born sons to return to Sheba with my son and remain there with him as his Governors.”

  A collective gasp told Solomon his spear had hit the mark. Good. They shall suffer, too.

  “Scribe, bring me the names of the first born of these honored families.”

  The stooped over scribe rose and rummaged in the wall of scrolls. He pulled out a large one bound in leather and brought it to Solomon.

  Staring straight at the high priest, he announced the first name. “Azariah, son of Zadok, the high priest, shall go and be David’s high priest.”

  The old man clutched his chest and cried out. “No, not my son.”

  Solomon continued down the list. “Elias, son of the Archdeacon, shall serve the same role as his father, in Sheba. Adam, son of Arderones, leader of the people; Fankera, the son of Soba, scribe of the oxen; Aknohel, son of Tofel; Samneyas, son of…” As he intoned each name, men wailed and protested. Justice is mine, sayeth the Lord—and the Lord’s servant. In all, the list numbered twenty-one young men, all tasked to serve their new king, David, in Sheba.

  Too soon, the time drew near for farewells. Solomon dragged himself out of bed and prepared for the dreaded day ahead of him. The preparations for his son’s departure tore at Solomon’s heart, just as his mother’s leaving had years before. Lest his son return to Sheba empty-handed, he gifted David with chariots, horses, riding-camels, and mules. Wagons filled with gold, silver, jewels, pearls, tents, clothing, and splendid attire stood waiting for the long trip south.

  David’s men joked among themselves and talked about all they planned upon their return home. The firstborn sons of Israel and their families, however, wept and cursed Solomon. Mothers, fathers, and kinsmen of the new Council of Sheba assembled before him, begging him to reconsider. Solomon saw their sorrow and compassion filled him. He, too, was losing a child. “Fear not for your sons. Instead know it is the Lord’s will for them to spread the word of the one true God.”

  Although some still muttered, the parents ceased to tear at their clothing. In the back of the crowd, Solomon spotted two people with the grins of hyenas. Naamah and Rehoboam. Let them gloat. Never would he anoint that sinner king.

  He raised his hands for silence and asked Zadok to bless the caravan. As the high priest intoned the ritual prayers, Solomon said his own.

  Dear Lord, please watch over my son. Keep him safe. Give him the strength to rule with wisdom, justice, and compassion. Let your love protect him from those who would do him harm, especially those who pretend to be friends.

  David asked to make one last sacrifice at the Temple before he left and would never be able to bask in the glory of the Ark of the Covenant again. “One request, since Zadok’s son is the new high priest for me, could Azariah offer it on my behalf, so he knows what to do in Sheba?”

  Solomon agreed this was a good plan and gave one hundred bulls, one hundred oxen, ten thousand sheep, ten thousand goats, and ten of every kind of animal that could be eaten, along with fine white flour and forty baskets of bread. After they offered up the sacrifices, Solomon returned to the palace and slept, albeit poorly knowing the next day would be the last he would spend with his son.

  The next morning, David came to Solomon and asked for his blessings. Solomon clutched David to his heart. “Blessed be the Lord my God, who blessed my father, David. May He be with you always, may your seed be blessed, and may you multiply and may your children and grandchildren be as numerous as the stars in the sky.” He paused. “May all the birds and beasts and fish be your subjects. Be gracious, kind, generous, and wise. May you find a love match as true as I did with your mother, who will always be in my heart. I love you son. I always will.”

  Red-eyed, David could barely choke out the words. “And I you.”

  “Give your mother my love.”

  David nodded, turned and mounted his steed. Hundreds of ram’s horns sounded. Accompanied by a cloud of dust, the caravan marched out of Jerusalem. Solomon stood on the roof of his palace and listened to his city mourn. Dogs howled, goats bleated, and the cries of his people ripped at his heart. He gazed into the horizon until the sun set in a blaze of red glory. Hoopoe perched on the wall, awaiting his orders.

  “My friend, you know me well. Report back to me tomorrow morning, let me know my son is safe.”

  “Ooo-poo! I’m on my way.” The striped bird lifted off and flew high above. Solomon wished he could have that bird’s eye view. He sighed and thought of his father’s poetry. “How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily? How long shall mine enemy be exalted before me?” He had to trust in the Lord. Naamah and her foolish son would be dealt with by Him in His own time.

  ****

  The next morning, Solomon arose with a sick feeling in his gut. Grief, his old friend, came back to visit him. Unlike the time Makeda left, however, he would not sink into an abyss of despair. His country needed him awake and alert, firmly in charge of his realm, especially now that Rehoboam and his mother circled the throne like vultures. I’m not dead, yet, Naamah. His heart surged at the sound of flapping wings.

  “Ooo-poo!” The bird
fell from the ledge. “I flew as fast as I could. Terrible news.”

  Alarmed, King Solomon knelt at Hoopoe’s side and lifted him with gentle hands. “What happened?” He brought the bird to a basin of water.

  Revived, but still unsteady, Hoopoe rested in Solomon’s arms. “I followed the caravan, as you instructed, but they traveled so fast, I couldn’t keep up. I swear I saw a wagon covered with dirty clothes lift into the air and fly, taking the procession along with it. The entire caravan was over the river, in Gaza, by noon.” The bird shook himself. “Impossible. A mirage fooled me. I’m sorry I let you down.”

  Solomon’s stomach, already in knots, swooped and fell at Hoopoe’s words. He recalled his strange dream of a brilliant sun, which shone on Israel for years. The sun flew away to Sheba and stayed there in all its brightness forever. When he was with Makeda, he thought the dream was about her. Was the dream about David? Or something even more ominous?

  Benaiah appeared in his doorway.

  “My king, there is treachery. A forgery of the Ark of the Covenant was placed beneath the wings of the cherubim.”

  Solomon’s mouth went dry and his legs turned to water.

  “Call out your soldiers, go after my son’s retinue. Someone amongst them stole the Ark of the Covenant.”

  Benaiah raced out the door and shouted for his men to mount up. The chase was fruitless, but he must send them.

  “Ooo-poo!” The bird sagged in Solomon’s embrace. “Too late, my King. It is gone.” Hoopoe closed his eyes and his spirit left him. His little friend had given his life in service to his king. Solomon bowed his head. Tears of sorrow, frustration, and anger poured down his cheeks. How could God allow the Ark to be stolen? Why did God forsake them? Why did the Lord choose Sheba over Israel? Whatever the reason, he prayed Makeda and David would give the Ark a good home and keep it safe forever.

  ****

  Makeda rejoiced at Menelik/David’s return—and gasped at the miraculous arrival of the Ark of the Covenant. David told her the chest containing the stone tablets from Moses wanted to come with him. The Ark was to be revered and feared. If the Ark didn’t want to be with him, it would have never allowed itself to be hidden. She knew the Lord chose her nation for great things. Now Sheba’s job was to protect the Ark and keep it safe from those who would wish to steal it for its power, not for its covenant with the Lord. Just as she foretold at his birth, David/Menelik was now King of two countries. It was time for her to step down, hand the throne and her nation to her son. Like Bathsheba, she would advise him. Unlike Bathsheba, she wouldn’t choose his brides.