“Some more than others. Each in her own way.” He picked up a pebble and tossed it. “One regards me as a hero. One is grateful I rescued her from a desperate situation. All are enamored with my wealth and one with my power. There is only one woman, a beautiful high-born lady, who loved me when I was a penniless shepherd boy with nothing but myself to offer her.”
Could she dare have hope? Did he remember their passionate love as tenderly as she did?
“Michal.” He leaned forward and took her hand in his. “I won’t force you.” He put his free hand on her shoulder. “But I ask you, will you come back to me and be my wife again?”
For a moment, she could not speak. Was this a dream? She dared not lift her eyes to meet his. “I love you, David. My heart has not given up on you, and it never will.”
“Does that mean you will stay with me?”
“Yes, if that is truly what you want, after all that has happened.” At last she trusted herself to look at him.
David’s smile dazzled her. He pulled a length of fine gold chain from inside his tunic. On the chain was the ring he gave her the day they were married. David removed the ring and slipped it on Michal’s finger. The warmth of his body lingered on the metal. Then he took her into his arms. Michal closed her eyes and rested her head against his broad chest. Joy, relief, and desire overwhelmed her.
David caressed her cheek as he said, “We need never speak of Gallim or Phaltiel again.” Their first kiss ignited the fire Michal feared would never burn again.
“Uncle Abner predicted you would either have me stoned or plunge a dagger into my heart,” she whispered.
“I don’t happen to have a dagger with me.” David kissed her ear and eased her down on the blanket. “But I did bring my sword.” He pressed his body close to hers.
“Here? Now?” Michal’s delight overrode her reticence.
“Why not here and now? We have so much catching up to do.”
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
“SO ABNER CAME TO DAVID TO HEBRON, AND TWENTY MEN WITH HIM. AND DAVID MADE ABNER AND THE MEN THAT WERE WITH HIM A FEAST.” II SAMUEL 3:20
The silent servant girl stole sidelong glances at Michal as they walked through the broad hallway leading to the women’s quarters. Michal barely restrained herself from clinging to David, begging him not to leave her to face his wives alone. She kept reliving the hostile reception she received when she first arrived at Gallim. That was almost seven years ago, but the sting of Phaltiel’s waspish women felt as fresh as yesterday.
“Princess Michal, welcome!” The woman who stepped up quickly to embrace her was a full head shorter than Michal, but similarly slender. Almond-shaped brown eyes dominated her sweet face. “I am Abigail. We learned only a short while ago that today would be the day of your arrival. But we have been working for months to prepare for your coming.”
Michal hardly knew how to respond. However, something about Abigail’s air of quiet confidence appealed to Michal at once. “My lord David spoke of you, Abigail.”
“How kind of him!” The woman smiled, obviously pleased. “Everyone is excited to meet our senior wife at last, but we know you must be tired from your travels. Let me show you to your chamber.”
As Abigail’s words sank in, Michal realized for the first time that she was senior among the women. The idea of assuming the responsibilities that went with that title was daunting. She had been treated as either a servant or a baby in her father’s household, depending on the prevailing moods of her parents. Her own house and staff were tiny compared to this extensive palace. Even then, Sarah was responsible for running the household. Certainly, Bida’s chaotic mishandling of Phaltiel’s wives would not serve as a model. And seven years of being the object of others’ scorn obliterated her self-confidence.
Abigail ushered Michal into a sunlit room at the end of the corridor. The walls were hung with striped linen. Well-stuffed cushions of darker green, blue, and turquoise lined the walls. “This is lovely,” Michal said. “But I should not displace the rightful owner.”
“That’s not the case at all.” Abigail straightened a cushion. “David started designing this new addition as soon as he learned you were yet alive. I’m glad you like it. These doors lead to your private room, and those to the rooftop.”
Michal was surprised to realize where she stood was merely a reception area. The bedchamber itself was much larger, and lavishly appointed. Green tiles of every shade formed an intricate geometric pattern around the bottom half of the walls. The walls above the tiles were covered with the same pale green fabric as the reception room. The late afternoon light sifted through the slatted shutters of windows that ran the full length of one wall. After years of sharing her little corner of a common area with Tirzah, the prospect of her own private space filled with beauty took Michal’s breath away.
“Someone has left her things here.” Michal pointed to a garment hanging from a peg on the wall.
“I made you a headdress,” Abigail said. “The Judean fashion is a little different from the styles I hear they wear in Jerusalem, plainer. I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t want to wear it. But it’s meant to make you feel welcome.”
“Thank you. I’m sure I will enjoy it,” Michal said warily. She looked around the room, trying not to remind herself that she and Abigail were rivals for David’s affection.
“There’s fresh water in the pitcher,” Abigail said. “Shall I wash the dust of the road from your feet?”
“Thank you, no. I will attend to that myself,” Michal said, suspicious that Abigail merely pretended to be so kind and humble.
“Of course.” Abigail’s voice was mild. “I’ll go now. If you want anything, please let me know your wishes. The other women are anxious to meet you and convey their welcome when you are rested from your journey and ready for us to greet you properly.” She turned to go, and then looked back at Michal. “Our lord the king has told us how you saved his life. We are all your admirers.”
Michal watched Abigail retreat down the wide corridor and thought of David’s characterization of his wives. Which one was Abigail? Did she need protection, or did she find powerful men appealing?
David, my husband again, at last, she thought gratefully. And yet, never again totally mine.
She tested the softness of her bed with one hand. It felt so inviting she lay across it fully dressed, not bothering to remove the blanket. She decided to rest for a moment or two.
Michal awoke with a start. For an instant, she did not know where she was. With the realization she was in her own bedchamber in the house of King David, she felt a wave of relief. Judea was not Israel, but what would there be for her in her homeland now? Ishbosheth, her one remaining brother, no doubt wished she was dead and out of his way. Uncle Abner had not hesitated to give her up to the Judeans despite the knowledge she could be killed.
For the first time since she said goodbye to David at their kitchen window so many years ago, Michal felt safe. She was amazed at how much her life had changed over the span of only a few days. She sat up and surveyed her bedchamber in the dim light of early dawn. She was not in imminent danger, and she was reunited with David as his wife. She never expected to have such good fortune again.
Michal thought about how to settle in to her changed environment. She trusted David without question. Her natural caution required everyone else to earn her confidence. She wanted to live in harmony with the other wives. Feelings of jealousy were natural, but she hoped not to let them show. Though her father married only one wife, Michal remembered the decorum with which her mother bore King Saul’s habit of taking concubines. Ahinoam simply ignored the semi-illicit relationships. When children resulted, as they sometimes did, the queen treated them graciously without ever acknowledging their parentage.
Michal removed her sandals and slipped quietly from the bed. She bathed with water from a pottery basin and changed into a clean linen garment. The tunic she chose was a few inches longer than normal, making i
t the perfect length for a woman of Michal’s height. Again struck by the thoughtful planning that seemed to precede her arrival, she cracked open a heavy door that connected her bedroom with its ante chamber. The only sound was the regular breathing of the young servant girl curled up on a mat. Michal closed the door softly, since it was apparent the household was still asleep.
She went to the wide double doors that led directly from her bedchamber to the rooftop stairway, and smiled with pleasure. Did David include this architectural detail merely because they both loved observing their surroundings from a high perch? Or was it perhaps in memory of their first house?
Her view in one direction was the road that ran from the distant hills to the Hebron city gate. If she looked the other way, she saw the wide expanse of the square interior courtyard around which the house was built. Michal drank in the beauty of David’s gardens in the first light of dawn. Neatly-trimmed fruit trees shaded the courtyard. Stone benches and tables sat here and there among flowering hedges. In a bare spot near the center of the courtyard, wooden swords and toy shields lay haphazardly beside two sleeping goats.
Michal’s morning prayer was filled with thanksgiving for being welcomed by her generous husband. Even though her bigamous marriage occurred under duress, she knew most men would have rejected an unfaithful wife. She then asked God to allow her to know Merab’s child. And she earnestly pleaded to conceive a son with David.
After giving God thanks, she threw open all of the doors and shutters, bathing herself and the space around her in the morning sunlight. The servant girl who slept in the reception area awakened and fetched fresh water, honey cakes, and a plate of hulled almonds. Michal learned the girl’s name was Salome. She was assigned to Michal’s service by Abigail.
“I am to let my lady Abigail know when you are ready to receive her,” Salome reported.
“I am at her disposal,” Michal replied. There was a surreal quality to waking gradually and being asked rather than told what she would do next. She went to the window again, and ran her fingers along the low, cool exterior wall.
Was this really to be her new home? Was she forever beyond the reach of Phaltiel’s drunken moods? Never again to face the dreaded summons to his bed? Would she never have to hear Bida’s angry shouting? Was there no need to constantly search for a safe place to hide during the next season of new wine?
The sight of David walking briskly across the courtyard with Abner caught Michal’s attention. She automatically stepped behind a row of trellises that allowed her to watch the men unobserved. They appeared to be engrossed in deep conversation. Michal did not doubt her uncle had urgent business with David, and she was certain Abner was not here with King Ishbosheth’s blessing. She knew her brother to be a selfish, unyielding man. Every soldier in Israel could die before King Ishbosheth would humble himself before David—a man King Saul’s son would always regard as an upstart. She watched her husband and uncle disappear through a set of massive double doors that opened into the street-side sector of the house.
“May I intrude upon you, my lady?” Michal jumped at the unexpected question. “I’m sorry,” Abigail said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s all right,” Michal said, smoothing her hair. “You aren’t intruding, Abigail. I welcome your company.”
“You are too kind.” Abigail’s smile lit her face with pleasure. “Shall we discuss the plans for the feast our lord the king will give in your kinsman’s honor?”
“Of course,” Michal replied warily. Was Abigail waiting for an invitation to sit down? “Please.” Michal waved toward the luxurious cushions carefully arranged along the wall. She wondered what she and Abigail could possibly have to talk about in regard to the upcoming banquet.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
“NOW THESE WERE THE SONS OF DAVID, WHICH WERE BORN UNTO HIM IN HEBRON; THE FIRSTBORN AMNON, OF AHINOAM THE JEZREELITESS; THE SECOND DANIEL, OF ABIGAIL THE CARMELITESS: THE THIRD, ABSALOM THE SON OF MAACHAH THE DAUGHTER OF TALMAI KING OF GESHUR: THE FOURTH, ADONIJAH THE SON OF HAGGITH: THE FIFTH, SHEPHATIAH OF ABITAL: THE SIXTH, ITHREAM BY EGLAH HIS WIFE.” I CHRONICLES 3:1-4
Michal sat on a stone bench in the Hebron palace courtyard. Abner sat across from her, sipping wine from a silver chalice. Nearby, King David stood talking quietly with Captain Osh. Judean dignitaries and military leaders, along with the soldiers who accompanied Michal to Hebron from Bahurim, mingled among the trees and flowering hedges of the courtyard.
“You look tired, my uncle.” Michal searched for words to reach out to this man she never liked, but who might well be the only remaining blood relative she would ever again engage in conversation.
“Yes.” Abner’s nod emphasized his unruly white hair. “But I’ve done what I came here to do. Anyway, what soldier should expect to live to be as old as I am?”
“A cautious one, I would suppose,” Michal said. “A man who chooses his battles with care.”
“Or one who was preserved for one last errand on behalf of his God and country.”
Michal measured her uncle’s words. It must be the wine, she thought. He sounded more like a man with a few social graces than the taciturn, withdrawn Abner she was accustomed to. “I never thought of you as a believer in God,” Michal said, pushing back the stray lock of hair threatening to escape from her headdress. She suspected her uncle would reveal more if she did not follow his hints with direct questions.
“Do you think me to be unbelieving because a soldier’s success is measured by how many men he kills? I say striking down an enemy who would otherwise threaten me, or my family, or my king, is different from the murder forbidden by the Law of Moses. King Saul was of the same opinion.” The trace of a rueful smile passed fleetingly across Abner’s wasted features. “Whether or not God agrees has given me a few sleepless nights.”
Michal could not restrain herself from asking the question that nagged at her since arriving at Bahurim. “And delivering your niece to a man you thought would execute her, is that inside or outside the law?”
The old man paused, as if to gather his thoughts. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, not the stinging retort she expected. “Michal, try not to judge me too harshly. When your husband was in danger, you did what you had to do to save him. While some might say you were brave, your father saw you as a traitor.” He raised his hand, one finger extended. “Whether you were right or wrong to help your husband escape King Saul depends entirely on one’s perspective.” Abner turned his head and coughed so violently Michal thought he might collapse. Then he continued, his voice weaker than before. “The situation I face now is not all that different. Ishbosheth cannot rule. If we do not remove him from the throne, some heathen army may well take it from him. Then what? Should I stand by idly and let the people of God go back into bondage, as we were for hundreds of years in Egypt?”
“You raise an interesting point, Uncle.” It had been a long time since she’d had a chance to exchange ideas with another thinker. Michal found herself thoroughly enjoying this debate of current events. “But I believe you have sidestepped my question.”
“Not at all.” Abner hunched forward, elbows resting on his bony knees. “What do you think happened to that detachment of guardsmen? The men you deceived into thinking David was too sick to appear before King Saul?”
“I have no idea. I never gave it much thought, Uncle. But back to the—” Michal began.
Abner waved a hand to stop her words. “What if I told you Doeg killed every one of them?” His eyes burned into hers. “If you had known in advance that would be the outcome, would you have given up your delaying game, and allowed David to be captured?”
“No,” Michal said, as the impact of what Abner revealed sank in. “Saving David was uppermost. He was more important to me than the guardsmen, or myself for that matter. Please tell me those young men weren’t executed for believing my ruse.”
“I will spare you the horrible details of what Doeg did to them, but they pai
d with their lives.” Abner gave himself over to a series of racking coughs. When he could talk again, he continued. “You had to concentrate on your objective. So it is with me. King David would not do business with me or any other Israelite until we turned you over. And so, in pursuit of a higher goal, we met his condition.”
“It sounds like such a simple decision when you put it that way.”
“Would you put yourself above the independence of our nation?” Abner’s sunken eyes searched her face.
“No, I would not. If I thought that way, I would be guilty of the betrayal my father so often suspected me of committing.”
“You see?” Abner coughed again at length. “Likewise, I am not the ogre you think me to be. While I’m defending myself needlessly, let me ask you how long you think you would have survived if Osh had not taken you from Gallim?”
“I was there almost seven years,” Michal began.
“Ah, yes, years when no one of any importance knew or cared that you existed. But as soon as King David demanded your return, you became a political problem for your big brother.” Abner’s eyes glowed feverishly. “I sent Osh to pull you out of Gallim on King Ishbosheth’s authority. I had strict orders to bring you directly to him. Had I obeyed that command, you would have died much like your sister Merab.”
“One of your servants told me Merab died giving birth,” Michal countered. “And as you can see, I am not with child.”
“And neither was your sister,” Abner hissed. “Not visibly, at least.”
“You confuse me, Uncle.”
“Merab was murdered in her own bedroom, by King Ishbosheth’s henchmen. Afterward, the king publicly announced with great sadness that his dearly beloved little sister passed away while being delivered of a child.”
“How can you be certain of this?” Michal challenged.
“One of Merab’s sons was an eye witness. Your sister was warned that Ishbosheth’s men were approaching. She managed to slip her handmaid out with the baby and the toddler. Merab stuffed rags into her four-year-old’s mouth, hid him behind a curtain, and told him not to move or cry out no matter what happened. Fortunately, he followed her instructions. Your sister told the killers her husband took their sons away for a visit with a relative, when in fact Adriel had only their two oldest boys with him. Merab would not tell the soldiers where to find her boys knowing, of course, that Ishbosheth wanted to kill all of his nephews. The soldiers tortured her in an attempt to find out where her sons were. They went too far, and Merab died by their hands. Based on the handmaid’s report and the little boy’s description, I learned more than I believe you want to know.”
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