Daughter of the King

by Faucheux, Sharon; Havel, Carlene;

  The palace’s unclean room was a dormitory where the women stayed to avoid contaminating others while their menstrual blood flowed. No man, not even the lowest slave, would dare to enter this place. The women spoke of it as an area of banishment. Nevertheless, Michal found the atmosphere relaxed, almost festive. Only a few women were there when she arrived. Michal recognized Tabitha, the baker’s helper, and Lobeth, one of Queen Ahinoam’s handmaids. They greeted Michal, and congratulated her on the beginning of her time as a woman.

  Michal sank onto one of the soft cushions lining the walls, and covered her eyes with her hand. “Is the bleeding always this unpleasant?”

  The other women chuckled.

  “No,” Tabitha said. “Some months are worse than others. A few women always have a difficult time. Others hardly notice it.”

  “The first day is usually the hardest. And the flow comes easier after you’ve had children,” Lobeth commented.

  The women gave her a supply of the clean rags kept on hand to absorb menstrual blood. Tabitha explained that most of the women sat or lay on the rags, but also demonstrated how to swaddle oneself for walking. Michal found she felt all right as long as she reclined on a cushion, but sitting or standing brought on cramps.

  “You are fortunate to have an older sister,” Tabitha observed. “I have only brothers. When my first time came along, I didn’t know what was happening. I thought I had some horrible disease and was about to die.”

  “I was ignorant also,” Lobeth said. “But my mother explained this would enable me to get married and have children. That was all well and good, until I found out later that it happened every month. I understood I would bleed one time and then it would be over and done.”

  Michal closed her eyes while the women chatted. She wondered what was happening in the rest of the palace with everyone scurrying to prepare for the grand wedding. Soon Merab would marry the only man Michal ever wanted. Would her sister be allowed to walk through the garden with their mother and have a chance meeting with David and King Saul? Michal wondered whether her nausea was because of the bleeding, or came from the thought of her sister someday bearing David’s child.

  When Michal awoke from a nap later that afternoon, Lobeth offered her broth cooked with leeks and lentils. She began to feel somewhat better after eating and taking a little wine. Soon the confined group was joined by a young woman who played the tambourine and often danced to entertain King Saul’s guests. “Ladies,” she announced breathlessly, “the king has betrothed his eldest daughter to the magnificent warrior David.”

  “Truly?” Lobeth gestured toward Michal. “See here, Princess Michal has joined us for her first bleeding.”

  “Congratulations, my lady,” the dancer said.

  “Thank you,” Michal said. The women’s concerned expressions told her they knew her feelings for David and sympathized with her breaking heart. “What good news this is about my sister,” she forced herself to say. “With her betrothed and my bleeding begun, my lord the king can now find a husband for me.” She shut her eyes and tried to sleep.

  Lobeth, Tabitha, and the dancer moved to the far side of the room and spoke in low voices, but Michal’s keen hearing caught much of their conversation. They talked of how fortunate Merab was to get such a famous husband, and how she would always be glad she was David’s first and therefore most honored wife.

  The dancer recounted the conversation between King Saul and David during dinner the night the engagement was announced. “David is a man of great humility. He reminded the king that he is not of noble birth. He said he was unworthy to be a royal son-in-law.”

  “Perhaps that’s true,” Lobeth, a widow, observed. “I think he needs an experienced woman, one who could train him in the ways of pleasure.”

  “And did you have anyone in mind? Yourself perhaps?” Tabitha tittered.

  “I would be willing to sacrifice myself to provide such a comely young man an education.” Lobeth laughed. “Unless I miss my guess,” she went on, “David will be the father of many sons.”

  The dancer giggled. “Let us hope he and Princess Merab have fine, healthy children, and all take their appearance from their father!”

  Michal turned her face toward the wall. Merab had King Saul’s prominent nose and sharp features atop Ahinoam’s squat body. Michal had the opposite combination, their mother’s delicately beautiful face and the king’s tall, slender build. During the past year, Michal became increasingly aware of the way men reacted to her blossoming beauty. She wondered if David knew who she was or noticed the fairness of her face. Did he share her wish for the two of them to embrace? Did he ever long to come to her and do the secret thing that transpired between a husband and wife?

  What difference could it make if he harbored such thoughts? He would marry Merab, according to the king’s wishes. Her sister would taste David’s full ruddy lips and comb her fingers lovingly through his thick curls. Merab, not she, would be the one to whom he would reveal the marriage secret.

  Michal was not sure which emotion was stronger, her wish to die or her hatred for everyone around her.

  The next morning Michal was slightly lethargic, but felt much better after a good night’s sleep. She asked Lobeth to explain the connection between the monthly bleeding, marriage, and bearing a child. Lobeth seemed to be struck dumb and said, “Ask your mother.” Michal doubted she would have the courage to raise such an issue with Ahinoam, and didn’t expect a clear answer if she did. She wondered if she could ask Sarah.

  Michal completed her period, went through the simple purification ceremony, and emerged with a feeling her life was significantly changed. She was relieved to learn the king and his close military advisors left the palace during her stay in the unclean room. Depending on which rumor Michal believed, Israel’s forces went to the border either to mount a defense against a Philistine incursion or to plunder an enemy village.

  Michal never considered discussing her feelings for David with anyone, not even Tirzah. What would be the use? Her wishes would carry no weight with the king. Michal watched with envy as her sister soberly went through the preparations for her wedding. Merab no longer giggled and whispered to Michal how eager she was to become a wife.

  In a few weeks the men returned from their military adventure, flushed with victory and laden with booty. Not surprisingly, David again distinguished himself by his brave leadership. The palace buzzed with tales of his exploits.

  Michal stole glances at him when she dared, trying to visualize him thrusting his spear into a Philistine’s chest or slicing off an enemy’s head with one powerful swipe of his sword. She'd heard those very things happened. She knew from the whispers among the women that David was fearless and never hesitated to place himself in the thick of a battle among his men. Yet the David she observed around the palace seemed so unassuming. He did not swagger or boast the way most of the younger, unmarried military officers habitually did. How could ruthlessness exist side by side with the sensitivity of the man she knew as a musician and poet?

  As his wife, I would study him and gain insight into his mysterious ways, Michal thought. She could not decide whether to be angry or smug, knowing her sister would accept her new husband at face value the way Merab accepted everyone and everything.

  The days passed quickly. Merab’s attitude of grudging acceptance of her approaching marriage seemed to turn gradually toward cautious eagerness. At times, Michal suspected Merab’s growing excitement came from the knowledge she was taking a prize her little sister wanted more than anything else in the kingdom. An uneasy coolness settled between the king’s daughters, especially after Merab’s spiteful jest that Michal should marry David’s armor bearer.

  Preparations for the wedding feast began in earnest the week before the marriage ceremony was scheduled to take place. Michal vacillated between quiet depression and barely-controlled anger. It did not escape her attention that the king was in high spirits for weeks. She tried not to attribute her father’s fi
ne mood to the fact both of his daughters were displeased.

  The day before the royal wedding, Michal helped serve the evening meal. Merab stayed behind in the women’s quarters, where she had been the center of attention for days. Michal jealously watched the older women cater to her sister, applying henna to her hands and feet and teasing her about the approaching wedding night.

  Michal had hoped David would be at her father’s table that night. She wanted to gaze upon him in his unmarried state one last time. However, the dinner crowd was small by palace standards, and David was not present.

  A creeping dread gripped Michal as she sensed the change in her father without actually observing an outward sign. It was similar to the apprehension she remembered from walking across the meadow, seeing a dark rain cloud she knew would break before she could find shelter. As the meal progressed, King Saul became quiet. Michal took care to walk softly to avoid attracting her father’s attention in any way. The moment her assigned duties were completed, she put her apron away in hopes of retiring to her room. She jumped with fright as her Uncle Abner’s voice grated on her ears.

  “Where is your sister?” he demanded.

  Michal stammered. She never remembered her uncle coming into the kitchen before. It was not according to protocol for him to be there, nor to carry on a conversation with his niece in the presence of the kitchen staff.

  “Merab is in the women’s quarters, my lord uncle. She is being prepared for marriage.” What a stupid thing to say. Everyone in this house was aware tomorrow was Merab and David’s wedding day. Probably everyone in the kingdom knew. The servants must think her a dolt.

  “Send your sister to my lord the king immediately,” Abner ordered. “Your mother is to come with her. To the king’s chamber.” Her uncle swept away without a backward glance.

  Michal looked around at the stunned faces of the kitchen workers. No one spoke. She ran to the women’s quarters to find Merab, eager to know the purpose of this urgent meeting.

  CHAPTER

  SIX

  “BUT IT CAME TO PASS AT THE TIME WHEN MERAB SAUL’S DAUGHTER SHOULD HAVE BEEN GIVEN TO DAVID, THAT SHE WAS GIVEN UNTO ADRIEL THE MEHOLATHITE TO WIFE.” I SAMUEL 18:19

  Merab slipped into the bedroom she and Michal shared, as if in a trance. She slumped into a sitting position on their bed without acknowledging Michal’s presence.

  “What’s the matter? Is Father angry about something?” Michal whispered. She found Merab’s behavior frightening. Terror was contagious in King Saul’s household. If their father was in one of his dark moods, she could be the next target.

  Her sister looked up without expression. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words emerged. After a long moment, she sank backward onto the bed.

  “Is there a problem with your wedding?” Michal could not fathom what tragedy put her sister into this speechless state. “Was David called away to battle?” A horrific thought pushed aside Michal’s concern for her sister. “He hasn’t been wounded, or…” She couldn’t bring herself to complete the dreaded question. Did King Saul once again hurl his spear at David, this time without missing?

  Merab continued to stare at the ceiling. “Father has changed his mind about my marriage,” she said softly.

  “But all the preparations are made,” Michal protested. “Our relatives and many other guests from far away places are already gathered.”

  “Oh, there will be a wedding. The ceremony will take place as scheduled.” Merab pulled herself into a sitting position. Tears moistened her eyes, but none yet escaped. “Instead of David, I will be given to Lord Adriel.” A choking sob broke through as Merab said the man’s name.

  “Adriel? The Meholathite? No, there’s some mistake. You heard wrong.” Michal’s mind refused to process this shocking information. She didn’t want her sister to have David, but Merab shouldn’t be given to this stern martinet either.

  Merab regained her emotionless demeanor. “No mistake. Our lord the king made it perfectly clear this is what will take place tomorrow.”

  Michal sat beside her sister. She put her arm around Merab’s shoulders. The aloofness of the past few months disappeared. Adriel was a strict, humorless soldier older than their father. He often kept company with Uncle Abner at the king’s table. Michal tried to think of something to say. “Adriel comes from a good family,” she said without conviction.

  “Yes,” Merab sighed. “And his only wife died childless years ago, so I will always be the senior wife, even if he takes others later.”

  “No doubt you will have many fine sons.” Although Michal knew she was spewing platitudes, she wanted to provide some solace to her sister.

  Merab laughed a short, bitter laugh. “No doubt.”

  They sat hugging each other in silence for a long time. “Can I get anything for you?” Michal asked. “Shall I call Sarah or Tirzah?”

  “No.” Merab shook her head. “Let me spend my last night as a virgin in peace.”

  Michal searched for a way to distract her sister. “Where exactly is Meholath? Is it far?”

  Merab shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter much, does it?” She paused, then continued. “Remember how, when we were little, we were so sure we would have wonderful husbands? I knew Father would choose for me, but I fooled myself into thinking he would talk privately with me, and at least make certain I felt no strong dislike for my husband-to-be.”

  Merab stood and began to turn back the blankets. “Do you think people will say David rejected me, the plain princess who is not good enough even for a shepherd from Bethlehem?” Her humiliation was palpable.

  “You will be a lovely bride,” Michal answered almost too quickly. “And everyone knows this is our father’s doing. He decreed you would marry David. Then he changed his mind at the last minute, as he is wont to do. But why?”

  “Learn this well, little sister,” Merab said, her anger making a rare break through her self-control. “There need not be a reason why.”

  “This house will be lonely without you, Merab.” There was so much more Michal wanted to say. Instead, she climbed into bed. She was ashamed of the relief she felt, knowing her sister would not be married to David.

  The next morning Rizpah, one of their mother’s handmaids, carefully lined Merab’s eyes with a black powder made from burned almond shells. Rizpah was an expert in cosmetics, having learned how to mix and apply makeup from an Egyptian woman. “Lovely!” she exclaimed at her own work. “Now a little rouge on your cheeks, some berry juice on your lips, and you will be as fine a bride as ever there was!” Michal was fascinated by Rizpah’s deft transformation of her sister into a fetching bride. “Too bad your veil will all but hide my work,” Rizpah clucked. “Now you, little sister.” Rizpah motioned Michal closer.

  “But I am not the bride,” Michal protested. She wanted Rizpah to paint her face as she had Merab’s, but feared risking her father’s disapproval.

  “King’s orders,” Rizpah said. She grinned broadly. “Perhaps your father wants the men who failed to win Merab to compete now for his baby girl, eh?”

  If the king was willing for Rizpah to enhance her face for the wedding celebration, Michal was more than happy to cooperate. Now she could look pretty for David.

  After Rizpah swept out the door, Michal admired the reflection of her painted face in the brass disk. “What do you think it is like to be married?” she asked.

  Merab hesitated. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Yes, you do,” Michal persisted. “What is the secret thing a husband does? The thing Haggia says turns a girl into a woman overnight?”

  “I’m not sure. Mother said to be prepared for a painful experience. She told me a man is a sword and a woman is the sheath in which the sword rests.”

  Michal pondered her mother’s riddle for several moments. “Do you understand what that means?”

  “Not exactly,” Merab said. “I think it must mean the secret thing is like being stabbed.”

 
Michal periodically heard sacrificial animals scream as the priests slit their throats. She would not want to be stabbed, even by David. “How does that turn a girl into a woman?”

  Merab closed her eyes. “Let us speak of something else.”

  CHAPTER

  SEVEN

  “AND MICHAL SAUL’S DAUGHTER LOVED DAVID: AND THEY TOLD SAUL, AND THE THING PLEASED HIM. AND SAUL SAID, I WILL GIVE HIM HER, THAT SHE MAY BE A SNARE TO HIM…” I SAMUEL 18:20-21

  Michal stood near the wall of the great hall, behind the women who gathered at the end of the room closest to the kitchen. Since she was tall enough to look over most of the other women, she could see the crowd of men who talked and laughed among themselves at the opposite end of the hall. David stood in a small group that included her brother Jonathan. To her frustration, the back of Uncle Abner’s head blocked Michal’s view of David’s face. She wanted to search her beloved’s fine features. Was he disappointed at being replaced by another bridegroom? Angry? Relieved? Embarrassed? Indifferent? Delighted?

  “Michal!” Ahinoam’s voice startled her.

  “Yes, Mother?”

  “Do not stand at the wall like a foreigner. Come up here by me.”

  Michal dutifully made her way through the crowd to her mother’s side. Throughout her life, Michal was reprimanded if she brought attention to herself in public. Consequently, hanging back became a habit. She was surprised by Ahinoam’s sudden displeasure at her reticence, but she asked no questions. The queen’s motives were seldom revealed.

  “Look at me,” Ahinoam said. “I want to see if Rizpah did a good job with your makeup.”

  Michal turned to face her mother. “Beautiful. Beautiful,” Ahinoam murmured. “Let me see you smile.”

  Again, Michal did as she was instructed. Being the focus of her mother’s attention was unusual and rather enjoyable, especially since Merab had been the center of household activity for the past few weeks.