The Secret Book of Kings: A Novel

by Yochi Brandes

  I fell to my knees and begged for her forgiveness. I always wanted to live a simple life. I have no lust for power, and I know it’s wrong to put our children and her at risk. But there is a power stronger than me, and I can no longer resist it.

  She looked at me for many long minutes and then started to bring her lips toward me, but she paused midway.

  “I want you to say it explicitly,” she said.

  “I will become king.”

  The frozen expression on her face melted all at once, as if she’d received a piece of comforting news that gave her peace and joy. She asked that we sit at the table, and she brought us warm beverages and a sweet, fragrant pastry.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I do. Your grandmother told me.”

  “Is that what you discussed when you were alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “She knew I would become king?”

  “Of course she did. She was a prophet.”

  I couldn’t help but think that if Grandmother had truly been a prophet, she would not have married David.

  “So, what do I have to do?”

  “Change your name.”

  “Why?”

  “Our two greatest patriarchs changed their names after they accepted their roles as fathers of the nation. Abram became Abraham, and Jacob became Israel.”

  I swallowed hard and felt my entire body stiffen. “The fact that I’m willing to take on the burden of the kingship doesn’t mean that I’m going to become someone else. I struggled with Ahijah the Shilonite in the field today and wouldn’t give up my freedom of choice. Besides, I like my name.”

  “Your grandmother liked it, too,” Elisheba said softly.

  “Then why do I have to change it? Moses didn’t change his name after God revealed Himself in the bush and commanded him to redeem the nation of Israel.”

  “Moses’s name suited his mission: he drew—mashah—the people of Israel out of Egyptian slavery. Your grandmother was glad that we chose to name our children after members of his family. She knew you were the second Moses even before the people of Ephraim called you that.”

  “That’s true. Hadad hinted as much.” My eyes grew moist. I wanted to fulfill Grandmother’s request and change my name without delay, but I didn’t think I could.

  “My name fits my mission. There’s no need to change it.”

  Elisheba smiled sadly. “That’s what your grandmother thought when you were born. The days of David’s reign were filled with war and bloodshed. She asked your mother to name you Shelomoam in the hopes that you would become king one day and bring peace—shalom—to the nation of Israel.”

  “But the name Solomon also comes from the word shalom.”

  “And he’s lived up to it. Thirty-six years ago, the nation was desperate for peace, but now it’s desperate for something else.”

  “What is the nation desperate for?”

  She got up and stood in back of me. “You know the answer. The prophet Ahijah the Shilonite foresaw it for you in his first revelation.”

  “My grandmother never heard his revelation.”

  “She didn’t need to hear the revelations of other prophets. She was a prophet in her own right.”

  I stood up and walked to the door. Elisheba followed me and grabbed my hand. “That was her will.”

  I turned to face her. “What is my new name?”

  “You can guess it yourself.”

  “I want to hear you say it.”

  She stood on her tiptoes and stretched her neck up to me. “Jeroboam,” she said, pressing her fingers into the palm of my hand. “From the word jerob—to multiply—because you will cause the nation of Israel to multiply and grow exceedingly numerous, just like Moses did.”

  * * *

  That night, I tossed and turned in bed, but I could not fall asleep. It wasn’t because of the fateful decision that was about to turn my life and my family’s life completely upside down, and it wasn’t because of the imposition of the forced labor tax that would bring disaster upon Ephraim. It was actually the name change that stabbed at my heart and made my chest feel tight. I rolled the strange name around on my tongue and knew I would never be able to love it. The name Shelomoam flowed out with a pleasant gentleness, beginning at the roof of the mouth, moving to the tip of the tongue, and then sliding out the lips with a warm kiss. Jeroboam, on the other hand, was a hard name that twisted the jaw, got stuck in the mouth, and ended up biting the lower lip.

  Fortunately for me, I couldn’t spare much time to worry about my name. The new tax edict required me to gather up all my strength. I had to convene the elders right away, and I knew the meeting would be stormier than ever. For that reason, I decided we should meet in my own home, inside the dense thicket of trees that had concealed the secrets of my childhood and youth, and I invited only seven elders I knew with certainty weren’t spies for Adoram.

  I reported on the project to build up the walls of Jerusalem in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone, but they could tell that something awful had happened. When I arrived at the number of forced laborers that Adoram was demanding from us, a shocked silence fell over the room. It took all that I had to leave them with a bit of hope. “We’ll find a way out,” I said with false confidence, “just like we have in the past.”

  Their shoulders slumped as if I’d dropped a heavy weight on them. “The only way out is rebellion,” the chief elder said.

  “No!” I shut him down. “We mustn’t put our children’s lives at risk.”

  “Don’t you understand the situation?” cried a different elder. “It’s better to die by the sword in a war for our freedom than to starve to death.”

  “It wouldn’t be a war. It would be a slaughter. Solomon will put down the rebellion before we can even gather weapons. You remember the rebellion of Sheba son of Bikri.” I paused and took a deep breath so that I could get over the feeling of suffocation that had come over me when I’d mentioned my grandfather’s name.

  “David was the one who put down the rebellion of Sheba son of Bikri.”

  “And what about the Rebellion of the Temples? Have you already forgotten about that?”

  “This time we’ll succeed. All the people of Israel will join us, not just the tribes of Rachel.”

  “All the tribes joined the Rebellion of the Temples, too.”

  “This time, it’s a war for our survival, not for proximity to God.”

  I was trying to think of more counterarguments when I suddenly realized that it wasn’t the rebellion that scared me, but rather what would follow it. All night, I had managed to push to the side the decision I’d made the day before and keep it locked in a box in the back of my mind. But now the moment of truth had arrived, and I could no longer ignore it and go on with life as usual.

  “We’re not yet ready for a rebellion,” I said softly. “We need someone to get us ready.”

  The chief elder was about to interrupt me, but he was so shocked that his words got stuck on the tip of his tongue. Long minutes passed before the question that was floating in the air of the room was spoken aloud. “Who is that someone?”

  The answer shot out of my mouth by itself. “I will redeem the nation of Israel.”

  Twelve

  The elders eagerly awaited the preparations for the rebellion. How disappointed they were when it became clear to them that I wouldn’t be training any fighters or caching any weapons.

  “Our rebellion is going to be a clean one,” I informed them. “Not a drop of blood will be spilled.”

  “How is that possible?” the elders asked in astonishment. “Even Moses killed Egyptians when he redeemed the people of Israel from Pharaoh’s house of bondage.”

  “My mission is to multiply the nation of Israel, not to diminish it,” I said. It was a major hint at my new name, but they had no way to see that. A name change symbolizes a most significant transformation, and I knew that I mustn’t raise unnecessary suspicions. Mem
bers of my family called me Jeroboam only inside the four walls of our house and in the cave, but never in the presence of my children. Nadab, my eldest, was already twelve years old, but Mother was able to convince me that knowing a secret can be an even greater burden than not knowing it, and that I’d be better off not sharing my family’s convoluted history with my children prematurely. It made me angry that I was raising them in a world of secrets, but what choice did I have?

  Elisheba and Bilhah supported the clean rebellion I was planning and encouraged me not to give the idea up, while Mother and Benaiah were full of anxiety and implored me to gather weapons in case they were needed, should worse come to worst and Solomon decide to send armed soldiers into Ephraim. I replied by saying that weapons were the kinds of things that ended up being used if they were available. “In every previous rebellion, the rebels were armed with weapons,” I reminded them, “and they all failed. The time has come for us to try a different kind of uprising.”

  “And if it fails?” Mother asked anxiously.

  “Then at least no one will die.”

  A week later I told Adoram that I’d managed, with great effort, to draft fifteen hundred forced laborers who were prepared to leave for Jerusalem immediately to build up the walls, and that in order for their families not to starve I had to lower the head tax and the tax on crops in Ephraim. I had made a calculation that he wouldn’t remove me from my position or order his soldiers to seize laborers from their homes by force. For now, it was in his best interest to make do with fewer workers, rather than risk a violent confrontation with the strongest tribe in Israel at the height of the largest construction project Jerusalem had ever seen. I knew that his restraint wouldn’t last forever, but I now had a relatively quiet period in which to plan my next steps. I asked the elders of Ephraim not to push me to escalate the rebellion prematurely so that we didn’t end up in a war of brother against brother, God forbid. They eventually accepted my stance, but they urged me not to delay too much. “We want to see the new king take the throne in our lifetimes,” they said.

  Hadad also agreed to be patient and continued to send me secret letters hidden in opaque jars of perfume. “It’s best that the Libyan mercenaries of Shishak not hear about your strange rebellion,” he wrote in his characteristic style. “The expression ‘clean rebellion’ would get them so riled up that they would be forced to invade Israel just to dirty it up.”

  I didn’t know how long it would take before more tribes joined our tax rebellion, but I knew which tribes would be the first. And indeed, the tribe of Benjamin sent only a third of its quota of forced laborers to Jerusalem, and six months later the people of Manasseh on both sides of the Jordan announced that they were absolutely certain that the building of the wall would be unaffected by the absence of the two thousand new workers they were supposed to recruit. In response, Adoram called an emergency meeting and summoned representatives of all the tribes. Mother trembled in fear, but I explained that the rebellion was going exactly as I’d planned.

  “Maybe Solomon is plotting to kill all of you when you arrive in Jerusalem?”

  “Solomon does nothing on his own other than plan construction projects, compose riddles, and collect women, and Adoram wouldn’t dare kill the tribal representatives and risk a war with the entire nation of Israel. He knows how to collect taxes, not wage wars.”

  “And what about Solomon’s foreign wives who run the affairs at the palace court?”

  “They are too busy doing what they’re doing and have no time to deal with peripheral issues like some strange tax rebellion, something they’ve never even heard of in their home countries. Naamah the Ammonite must make sure that her dear son Rehoboam maintains his position as crown prince despite his meager abilities, and the others are investing all their strength in intense competition over the grandeur of the temples that Solomon has built for their gods. Each is trying to obtain more gold, more gems, and more rare treasures for her god. It is being said that the god Chemosh is currently in the lead, that his temple in Jerusalem is even more magnificent than the ones built for him in his own land of Moab.”

  My description managed to amuse Mother, and she commented jokingly that Hadad’s spies were certainly doing their job well, adding that as long as the most current information they provided me revolved solely around the misdeeds of Solomon’s wives in their battles over their temples, she could rest easy.

  When I returned home, I remembered that it was market day in Zeredah and decided to stop and buy a Philistine shell necklace for Elisheba from her favorite jeweler. I would often roam the markets of Ephraim alone, like an ordinary person, and I tried to do so at least once a week. It was important to me to get to see from up close how the simple people lived and to hear from them directly as they talked about their troubles and concerns. Zeredah’s market had always been and still was my favorite, as it aroused bittersweet memories of the distant days of my childhood.

  I tied up my horse at the entrance to the market, near the food stalls, and I turned in the direction of the performance tent. I stopped every few steps to answer the greetings and expressions of love that were heaped upon me from every direction, and I noticed that while I was chatting, I was also glancing around nervously. I had the feeling that I was being followed, but I saw nothing out of the ordinary and figured that it was just my imagination. In addition to the necklace, I also bought a swing for Miriam and two cedar boxes for Nadab and Abijah. I returned to my horse and began strapping the gifts onto him when I heard a familiar voice coming from behind me.

  “Is that Aner?”

  “Aner is dead,” I answered, turning toward the voice. A man of average height was standing opposite me. I examined his face with interest. I didn’t recognize him at first, but a moment later the gifts fell from my hands, and I found myself falling on his neck.

  “Ithiel,” I whispered in a strangled voice. “I’ve missed you.”

  He hugged me with all his might. “I was starting to doubt we’d ever meet again.”

  “Every time I traveled to Jerusalem, I hoped to see you, but you were always at the home of your wife’s family in Hebron. Why don’t you live in the palace anymore?”

  “Long story. I’ll tell you some other time.”

  I recalled that this was the same response, even in the same words, that my friends, the Benjaminite thugs, had given when I asked them about him years ago.

  “Come home with me,” I pleaded. “Meet my wife and three children, and we’ll talk until morning. We have seventeen years to catch up on.”

  He licked his lips, which had grown dry from the excitement. I felt like I was melting with love, and I tried again to hug him, but he let out a groan and grabbed my arms.

  “I’ve come to warn you.”

  For a moment, the troubling thought occurred to me that he’d become one of Adoram’s emissaries and had come to persuade me to put an end to the tax rebellion.

  “They are going to kill you on your way to Jerusalem tomorrow. To make it look like just another robbery on the roads, your coachman will also be killed, and they’ll steal your money.”

  My legs were shaking so badly that I couldn’t even sit down. I leaned against my horse, gasping for breath. “Thank you, Ithiel, for warning me,” I managed to whisper. “I won’t go to Jerusalem tomorrow.”

  His ginger eyelashes fluttered and closed for a moment in pain. “Don’t you understand? They are determined to get rid of you. If you don’t come to Jerusalem, they’ll kill you here in Ephraim, and perhaps they’ll take the opportunity to attack your family as well. Adoram is calling you ‘Solomon’s Bane’ and saying that your tax rebellion is really a euphemism for a rebellion against the king.”

  “It isn’t a euphemism. It’s a clean rebellion.”

  “Adoram says you want to overthrow the king.”

  I fixed my eyes on him. “And what do you think?”

  “I don’t think. I only want you to live.”

  Those words also sounded
familiar, but I couldn’t recall where I’d heard them.

  “Aren’t you afraid of warning me?”

  “Of course I am, but I’m more afraid of losing you.”

  I was overwhelmed by his love for me and made no move to leave. He shook me savagely. “You need to take your family and get outside the borders of Israel. Do you have someplace to go?”

  “I’m not going anywhere. All the tribes of Rachel have joined my rebellion. They’ve put their trust in me. I cannot abandon them. The tax rebellion must go on and—”

  Ithiel pushed me toward my horse with both his hands before I could finish my sentence. “Flee, Shelomoam!” he screamed. “If you don’t run for your life tonight, tomorrow you’ll be killed!”

  The memory hit me all at once. My grandmother had said those exact same words to his grandfather. More than eighty years ago she saved David’s life, and now his grandson was saving her grandson.

  “Go!” Ithiel shouted. “What are you waiting for?”

  I got on my horse without thinking. The feelings, the sensations, the terror—everything in me was frozen. There was only one thing I didn’t freeze in that moment: my powerful love for him. I leaned down from the horse and fixed my eyes on his. “Ithiel,” I said, my voice now much softer. “Do you know who your father was?”

  He looked up at me with a puzzled look in his eyes.

  “Adonijah son of David was the crown prince.”

  His face went blank. I had a feeling that he was hiding something from me.

  “He was the favorite son,” I continued in the same soft voice, like a quiet melody. “There was no one in the palace like him—blameless and upright, a man who feared God and shunned evil.”

  He didn’t look surprised.

  “Did you know that?”

  “One of the elderly wives of my grandfather once ran into me at the Temple and asked if I was the son of Adonijah. When I replied that I was, she muttered some strange things about how I should have been the crown prince. I didn’t take her seriously. I thought she was confused by my resemblance to my grandfather, which everyone always talks about.”