The baby’s cheek rested against her skinny arms, and his little mouth was hungrily sucking at her bare breast. She was totally focused on the sounds of his suckling. Her eyes showed no sign of sadness. When Rizpah nursed her sons, she was happy.
“Is that Mephiel or Armoni?” I asked before she could see me.
She was startled, and her breast fell out of the infant’s mouth.
“Sorry for intruding,” I apologized.
“You scared me. Is something wrong?”
“David is back.”
She tried to put her nipple back into the tiny mouth, but the baby had already fallen asleep, looking content and satiated. The cheek that had been resting against her breast was moist and red. She kissed it and glanced at me.
“I take it the reunion didn’t go as you’d imagined it.”
Her face maintained an attentive expression throughout my entire story, but the words David had hurled at me from the top of the stairs shocked her, and she couldn’t help interrupting me.
“How can he possibly think that about you?”
I looked at the ground, trying to hide my eyes from her.
“Are you crying?”
“He’s right,” I said against my will.
“He can’t be. You love him.”
“And that’s precisely why I was willing to do whatever it took to get him back. I told Merab that the rutted roads were preventing me from conceiving a child, and I was glad when she understood my meaning and promised to tell Father. David is right. I’ve collaborated with Abner, his enemy.”
She closed her eyes. “Sometimes,” she pondered, “it’s hard to tell haters and lovers apart. They behave similarly, even if their intentions are completely different.”
“And only God, who tests the heart and mind, can tell them apart,” I finished her thought.
“Only God,” sighed Rizpah.
“In that case, all is lost. David will always see me as his enemy.”
She opened her eyes and attempted a smile. “I’m sure he’ll come to see that you acted out of love.”
“David doesn’t need love,” I responded without thinking.
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “You told me yourself that love is the breath of life for him and his only reason for existing, that he needs it more than anything else in the world. All people want to be loved, but they make do with a few intimate friends, but David has a need to soak in the love of the crowds.”
“Love is nothing but a tool for him,” I heard myself say.
“A tool for what?” she wondered.
“For loyalty. He has a need for admiration, he has a need for unconditional acceptance, but what he needs most of all is complete and total loyalty. And those are precisely the things I have not given him.”
“When did you realize this?”
“Just now,” I said with surprise. “I’ve never been able to articulate it so clearly before.”
“I understand,” said Rizpah, and I knew she truly did. She understood everything.
* * *
I was a fool to think that David would wake up in a different mood. Instead of acceding to my request to go for a walk in the garden, he ran off to meet Jonathan. I watched them from the side and felt superfluous. The two young men embraced warmly and needed nobody else.
I decided not to wait any longer. This was my only chance. Only if I could repair what I had broken would I be worthy of his forgiveness.
The servants already knew that when I was determined to enter the throne room nothing could stop me.
Father looked at me expectantly, as if he’d been waiting for me, and ordered everybody out. I collapsed onto the rug and asked him to come down from his throne and sit with me like he used to in the past.
“The past is past,” he said. “This is the present.”
The persuasive arguments I’d prepared fell apart like a sand castle, and the dignified restraint I’d been planning was quickly replaced by a fit of rage. “What’s different about me?” I screamed. “I’m the same Michal I always was. What has tarnished your love for me? Why do you all resent me?”
I was so deeply immersed in my pain that I didn’t notice him coming down from the throne until I felt his fingers against my cheeks. His smile was sad, but I was glad that at least he was smiling.
“You’ve inherited my hot temper and my uncontrollable outbursts of rage, but what about my other traits?”
“Do you agree with Jonathan that I’m selfish?”
“Just the opposite. The people think of you not only as the world’s most beautiful princess, but also as the princess most deeply in love. That is the only trait of yours they see, and I agree with their assessment. It turns out that the stories people tell about us aren’t always unfounded—you are willing to pay any price to fall in love. Actually, ‘willing’ isn’t the right word. You yearn for it. You have contempt for love that isn’t wrapped up in sacrifice. In your eyes, the more demanding the sacrifice, the more valuable the love. Jonathan is wrong. You didn’t cast aside Paltiel son of Laish out of selfishness, but rather because your love for him demanded no sacrifice.”
“You know about Paltiel?” I gasped.
He gave a bitter laugh. “I know much more than that about you. For instance, I know why you’ve come here and what you want to ask of me. The people of Israel mock my humility. They don’t see that it’s the most important quality for a king to have, not only because simplicity is a virtue, but also because only a humble person can observe the people around him out of honest interest and learn things about them that they don’t always know themselves.” He grew quiet for a moment, biting his lower lip anxiously. “But sometimes I’m wrong.”
I saw where he was headed and didn’t want him to go on. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and whispered into my ear, “I was wrong about David son of Jesse.” He spit out the name with distaste, just like Merab did.
I tried to gather myself so that I could list all the reasoned arguments I had prepared for him in a convincing and orderly fashion, but he beat me to it and listed them himself. “I know that he can be an excellent military commander, not because he was able to kill Goliath the Philistine by himself—I’m not at all sure that in itself says anything about his abilities on the battlefield—but because of the incredible power of attraction that he has, which can rally soldiers to follow him through fire and flood. I also know that a father shouldn’t discriminate between his sons-in-law. I’ve always promised myself to learn from the mistakes of Jacob the Patriarch and not cultivate jealousy among my children. But your David is not worthy of the same position as Merab’s Adriel. What guides Adriel is the desire to serve me and to serve his people, while what guides David is a burning personal ambition, the likes of which I’ve never seen before in my life.”
“You admitted yourself that sometimes your judgments are wrong. It isn’t David that you have misjudged, but Abner son of Ner.”
Father shook his head with deep conviction. “I’ve known Abner’s shortcomings since we were children. He’s a vengeful, jealous man, and often mean-spirited, but at the same time he’s loyal to those he loves to the death. I can’t always turn an enemy into a friend, but in his case I did.”
His tone made it clear that it was pointless to argue with him. In despair, I got up and headed for the door. I tried to leave with my head held high, to show him that I still had the power and determination to keep fighting for my husband.
“For now, David will return to serve as my musician. That way I can keep a close watch on him,” Father concluded.
“Until when?”
His answer made my blood run cold. “Until the spies following him are convinced that he isn’t planning to steal Jonathan’s crown.”
Horrified, I raced to Jonathan’s house and burst inside uninvited. The guards tried to stop me, but I got away from them and entered his bedroom. He was standing by the window looking outside, just as I liked to do. Even in that trying moment, when I was entirely
consumed by the terrible revelation, I couldn’t help but admire what a handsome man my brother was, almost as handsome as Father. There wasn’t a single woman in all the land who would turn him down if and when he decided to fulfill his familial and national obligations and finally start a family. I came over and hugged his waist from behind. I felt love for him just as I had long ago, before something strange and puzzling came between us.
“Father suspects that David is trying to rob you of the throne.”
“I know.”
My arms dropped to my sides.
He turned to face me, looking hostile. “Father only started paying attention to Abner’s slanders after Merab told him that David was seen wearing my tunic, sword, bow, and belt.”
I was horrified.
Jonathan’s voice cracked. “I gave David my possessions as a sign of friendship. We made an alliance; that’s all we were doing in the palace garden.”
“Then explain that to Father!” I heard myself weeping. “I’m sure he’ll acknowledge his mistake. Father can admit it when he’s wrong.”
“I tried, but when you look at it from the outside, it can be construed as treason. It looks as if David was taking my right to the throne. Why, Michal? Why did you tell Merab what you saw?”
I didn’t answer. What could I possibly have said?
Thirteen
The two years that followed brought mostly good news: David and I were given a new house, more beautiful and more spacious than our last one, which had been built just for us at the edge of the palace grounds, right up against the rear defensive wall. Merab gave birth to Joel, and the proud Adriel announced that, now that he had two children, he intended to sleep at home every night and would no longer stay with his soldiers in the camp. Jonathan finally agreed to start a family and became engaged to Jaarah daughter of Zuri of Ephraim, and the people of Israel enthusiastically began preparing for the royal wedding of the crown prince. Mother came to accept the presence of Father’s other wife, sometimes even smiling at Mephiel and Armoni as they played in the palace garden with Elhanan and Joel, her beloved grandchildren. Even Rizpah daughter of Aiah, whose sad eyes had become legendary, couldn’t conceal her joy at the sight of the four beautiful boys who looked like brothers, loved one another like brothers, and were not the least bit concerned with the question of which mother was the rival of which grandmother.
Not much had changed between David and me, though. He continued to hate every moment of his job as the king’s musician, I continued to stifle my great yearning for a son, and we continued to live our lives in parallel. I had Rizpah, he had Jonathan, and we could spend entire weeks without speaking a word to one another. He didn’t accuse me of causing his lowered status in the eyes of the king, except for that one time on the day he returned to the palace, and I preferred not to bring it up. I knew he wouldn’t forgive me for what I had done to him, even if I’d done it unintentionally, and I was hoping I would someday get the chance to prove my loyalty and repent my sin. The distance between us manifested itself not only in words, but physically as well. At first I followed Rizpah’s example and tried to seduce him on my fertile days, but I failed miserably. His self-control was absolute. His emotions and desires were fully subject to his will.
For months I was able to bite my lip and endure the pain, but when I heard about Merab’s third pregnancy I couldn’t hold back any longer and screamed out Rachel’s ancient cry: “Give me children, or I’ll die!”
“Am I in the place of God, who has kept you from having children?” David quoted Jacob’s cruel response and, in doing so, he tried to treat my lament as if it were nothing but a playful exchange of famous quotes from our ancestors.
I had a special smile that I reserved for these kinds of situations, when I wanted to disguise my suffering and pretend that everything was fine. But I didn’t use it that day, and all at once, without planning it, the bitterness I had been stifling erupted out of me.
“The quote from Jacob doesn’t apply to our situation. Both of us are childless, not just me.”
His face froze. I don’t know where I found the courage to go on: “Jacob could wound Rachel by saying that God had withheld a child from her and not from him because he had children from his other wives. But you, David, you only have me. If you don’t give me your seed, you won’t have any children, either.”
He narrowed his eyes, as if unable to fully comprehend. “You think I’m withholding seed from you?”
“I don’t think it; I know it. You’re punishing me, David.”
I assumed that would be the end of our conversation. Past experience had gotten me used to brief exchanges and long silences. His answer, which came several minutes later, shocked me with its directness: “I might not be Jacob, but you are Rachel. You told me that’s what you wanted before we got married.”
Chills ran down my back. I collapsed onto the rug and couldn’t control the shaking of my body. “Rachel was a beloved wife.”
“Rachel was a barren wife.”
“She had a child eventually!” I tried to shout, but the words came out sounding eerily calm. “Give me your seed, David, and I’ll ask for nothing more. Not love, not affection, not even friendship. All I want is your seed.”
“You’ll get it,” he said. “I promise.”
“When?”
He knelt beside me and fixed his eyes on my wet cheeks. “When your father stops hating me. Sometimes, when I play the harp or the lyre and see the intense hatred in his eyes, I pray for him to hurl his spear at me and pin me to the wall. I’d rather die than rot away in agony like this.”
“Nobody hates you. How can you attribute such a terrible feeling to my father?”
“Only hatred can explain my imprisonment. I’m a prisoner in this palace, Michal, a prisoner in my own home.”
“A man who goes to Bethlehem the first day of every month is no prisoner.”
“I’m allowed to visit my family only thanks to Jonathan. He makes up a different excuse each time so I can go see my old father, but I always have to return within a day, before the king discovers my crime.”
“It’s true that Father is wary of you, and he might even be afraid, but he doesn’t hate you. And if you give him a grandchild he’ll go back to loving you like he did at the beginning.”
“We mustn’t have children, Michal. Not now.”
I wanted to say to him that it would be much easier for both of us to handle the loneliness of the palace if we went back to the kind of relationship we had when we were newly married, before our travels spoiled everything. But I knew that it was entirely up to me, and I swore to find a way to prove my loyalty to him and thus repent my sin.
* * *
I had my chance at Jonathan’s seventh wedding banquet, but the outcome was very different from what I’d expected.
An extraordinary atmosphere took over the palace on the eve of the seventh day following Jonathan’s wedding. Unlike the six previous banquets, the last one was an intimate affair attended only by our family and the bride’s. I was especially pleased about the absence of Abner son of Ner. The air felt cleaner entering my lungs when that irritant wasn’t around. David was loose and relaxed as well. He played and sang songs of love and lust for the young couple, and we all joined him in the chorus: “How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful! Your eyes are doves.”
And indeed, the beautiful Jaarah daughter of Zuri of Shechem was endowed with innocent dove eyes that were riveted on her groom throughout the seven days of festivities. But Jonathan’s eyes were mostly turned to David. In spite of my joyful mood, I couldn’t help but compare the dull expression on his face when he looked at his bride with the fire that blazed from him when he looked at my husband.
“He shouldn’t have married her,” I whispered to Rizpah sorrowfully.
She shrugged and sighed. “The crown prince must have a family.”
“Not with someone he doesn’t love.”
She chuckled derisively, as if I were b
eing foolish. “Has Jonathan ever loved a woman?”
I stared at her in silence.
“He hasn’t and he won’t,” she continued. “But he must have a family.”
At that moment, David leaned over Jonathan, whispered in his ear, and the two of them laughed. I thought I was successfully concealing my emotions, but Rizpah could read me like a book. She said in surprise that it appeared that I had only just now learned the facts of life about my older brother. Her words landed on me like the blow from a sword. She saw my distress and handed me the water jug, looking me over with concern. I heard a great roaring inside me, as if a flood were rushing through my ears. I stood up and gave my chair a hard kick, which made it fall backwards with a bang. The singing stopped at once.
“What’s wrong, Sister?” Jonathan asked, looking abashed. The way he blushed proved that he knew the answer.
My stomach heaved. I turned my head away from him, and without a second look I crossed the hall with quick strides, and bounded down the staircase. Before I could reach the gate, I heard the familiar sounds of my husband’s footsteps above me.
“What do you want?” I hissed.
“The banquet isn’t over yet. Don’t humiliate your brother in front of his bride and her family. He’s waiting for you.”
His strong arms grabbed my waist from behind, pulling me back up the stairs. I started punching him, screaming in rage that the only person Jonathan was waiting for was standing right next to me. He froze in shock, but quickly recovered and continued to drag me up the stairs.
Suddenly an unmistakable thundering voice, full of authority, sounded above us: “Let go of her!”
We looked up at the large figure hovering over us. His expression and tone of voice terrified me. I’d never seen him so angry. He gripped the railing and leaned his enormous body over it to look down at us. “No man will force his will upon my daughter!” he thundered.
The blood ran out of David’s face. “She’s my wife,” he mumbled weakly.
The Secret Book of Kings: A Novel Page 20