Michal's Window

by Ayala, Rachelle

  David dreamed.

  He stepped over piles of sticky wetness. To his left, a figure stumbled. The sword clattered. A head rolled, glistening red. A wild squirrel lodged in his stomach, clawing fervently for an exit. Red, crimson, a river. The Nile turned to blood.

  Shammah. Blood spouted from his chest, a gaping hole. His legs heavy as iron, he fell on piles of empty eyes and gaping mouths. Squish. Crawl. Shammah, hold on.

  David cradled his head. Shammah, brother, mighty man. He tried to talk. Blood oozed through his teeth. He stared into the wind, the long, distant stare.

  Come back, brother, come back. David shook him. Wake up. Wake up, don’t die. David slapped his face.

  Ahinoam cried, “David, stop, stop, stop.”

  Chapter 34

  Proverbs 13:12 Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life.

  >>><<<

  All winter, David’s wives peeked at him with guarded eyes and whispered among themselves. His nightmares had thundered in tune with the winter storms, and his temper raged at anyone who crossed his path. One courtier had dared suggest a harpist! As if that would cure him.

  The balmy spring weather did little to relieve the tightness in his chest. Ittai had been back since summer, making it difficult for David to concentrate on his duties. He had assigned Ittai to train the young guards, and he spied on Michal incessantly, donning commoner’s clothing and following her. As far as he could tell, other than the first day Ittai visited her, they had stayed away from each other. Abigail spent more nights sleeping at Michal’s house than in the palace, and he didn’t mind it the least. She was as good a guard as any when it came to deterring Ittai.

  He prowled the women’s courtyard looking for his five oldest sons. It was about time to make them men, maybe select a few to take on the upcoming campaigns.

  Absalom and Adonijah walked up first. They were dressed in their tunics and breeches, spears in hand, sporting hair too long for battle. Absalom’s brown locks gleamed long and silky; Adonijah’s coppery mop was a tangled mass.

  Abital held Shephatiah’s hand and stepped forward. Large for his age, his golden-brown hair was cut short. David acknowledged his youngest wife. “Abital, you’re always so fresh and clean.”

  She bowed. “My lord, please keep Sheppy close to you and don’t let his brothers abuse him.”

  “Rest easy, dear. He has learned to ride quite well. I will not let him joust just yet. That will be for the three eldest.”

  He pounded on Abigail’s door. “Chileab?”

  “Here, Father.” Chileab’s thin face peered out the doorframe. He pulled at his sash and rushed out. The bull-headed Amnon lurked at his side with a scowl. These boys were nothing like Michal’s sons. Their mothers had spoiled them.

  They trotted to the training field outside of Jerusalem where the ground rolled level. A small brook traversed the meadow, scattered with a few rock formations. The sun shone brightly, and a hint of a breeze made it a perfect day. A few recruits trained near the willows, but the field stretched open before them.

  The boys took off on his signal. Absalom took the lead. His hair flying in the wind, he whooped at the top of his lungs, his spear in hand. Adonijah, always eager to keep up with his older brother, charged after him. Chileab dropped his spear and stopped to look at his fingernails while Amnon cantered in a slow and meandering pace. Sheppy’s horse had trotted the opposite direction.

  David turned his horse after Sheppy. “Boys, race around that hill while I find your brother.”

  Sheppy’s horse jumped the brook and splashed to the other bank where it found a patch of green grass near the reeds. David cantered in the direction of the brook.

  He saw her almost immediately. Michal stood under a willow tree with Ittai watching Beraiah and Joshua ride. She turned her head and whispered in Ittai’s ear, then laughed when he playfully pushed her.

  A green blast of bile erupting with the surge of his pulse, David yanked his horse around. He thundered toward them, but Beraiah reached her first and threw his mother onto his prancing chestnut horse.

  Michal screamed, “No jumping, no jumping.”

  Beraiah laughed and tossed his rusty-brown hair, an impish curve on his lips. He kicked his horse and tore across the field with Michal bouncing across the withers.

  Joshua raced his white horse after Beraiah. Both horses jumped a hedge while Michal let out a continual scream. David’s blood pounded in his ears as he recalled Michal’s screams of passion, and he kicked to join the chase.

  Beraiah launched into another jump, cleared a creek and splashed to the other side. Ittai pounced on his black war horse and galloped after them.

  David spurred his horse harder. Michal is mine. Crazy inside, fury boiling, screaming. Mine! Mine! Mine! He flew at them with the speed of an avenging angel.

  “Hey, pass your mother to me,” Ittai shouted. “I’ll show her what riding’s all about.”

  Beraiah spurred his horse harder. “Never.”

  Joshua crowded in from the other side and drove his horse right into Beraiah’s. With a lunge, he ripped his mother off her mount and spun her face-down on his lap. She had barely righted herself when his horse reared. The animal’s front hooves landed with a thud, and Michal’s mouth hit the horse’s neck. She let out a howling scream that ended in shrill laughter.

  David raised his spear while Ittai charged Joshua with a heavy stick. Joshua dodged by spinning his horse. Ittai reared around and caught Joshua in the small of his back. “Unhand your mother, you ruffian. Ha, ha, ha.”

  “Never,” Joshua shouted, but he did not see David crowd him from the other side.

  David lunged for his wife just as Ittai wrapped his arm around Michal’s waist and whipped her over his mount.

  “Ha, ha, I have you now, Princess.” Roaring in triumph, Ittai tore away.

  A nest of wasps exploded inside David’s chest, and he pounded after them. My wife, my wife, my wife.

  Ittai spun around. Shock registered in his eyes as David rammed him with the blunt end of the training spear. He fell off the horse and tumbled over a rock. Michal reined the horse to a stop. She jumped off, ran to Ittai and threw herself over him.

  David dismounted and pulled his wife up. She beat against his chest, screaming hysterically. Joshua and Beraiah helped Ittai to a sitting position. Ittai groaned and held his head between his knees.

  “Mother,” Joshua said, “he’s not hurt. Just his wind knocked out.”

  Michal ignored them. She flailed in David’s arms, so he did the only thing he could. He pushed her face down to the ground, stabilized her with a knee, pushed the golden garnet bracelet up her arm, and tied her wrists with a cord.

  By now, an audience had gathered. David’s sons, Michal’s sons, the recruits, and Ittai stood in a row, their faces impassive, their mouths gaped slightly open. David slipped a cloak over Michal’s head and put her on his horse. “Ittai, take the boys back to the stable. Riding lessons are over for the day.”

  He led his wife away. His war captive.

  * * *

  “Are you sure you still want this spell?” Jada flashed her teeth and ushered me into her house. “He sounds dangerous to me.”

  “David needs me. He won’t admit it, but he needs me.”

  “I have to warn you, this is strong magic. He will become obsessed with you, insatiable and wild for your love. He will be tortured when you’re not around. Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

  A large cat reclined on the hearth, his copper hair like David’s. Golden-brown eyes flickered at me as if amused. He yawned, his tail twitching at my indecision. I twisted my fingers. “Yes, I’m sure. I love him so much, and I miss him.”

  Jada waved a finger. “In that case, I’m not sure I should grant you the spell.”

  “Please, I want to be back in his life. I’ve been shut out for eight years.” I paced the room, my good intentions tossed to the east wind.

  �
��When he touched me.” I closed my eyes, savoring the memory. He had brought me to his tower. He had slipped a black hood over my head and tied my hands. And he did unbelievable things, things I had never imagined possible. But while the red-hot glow suffused my body, he wrapped me in a veil and cloak and carried me back to my house. He spoke not a word. It had been anonymous, impersonal, but oh, so exciting.

  That had been over a week ago.

  “I’m ready.” I removed my clothes and stepped into the bath. After toweling me off, Jada took out the perfumes, paint and makeup. She rubbed my palms and the soles of my feet with henna. She dusted my hair with jasmine powder and oiled my neck, elbows and knees with lotus oil.

  Jada dipped a brush in dark brown paste. Painstakingly, she painted my body as if I were a living canvas. I closed my eyes as the stiff brush scratched while she chanted incantations. She sprinkled vinegar over her artwork and left it to stand until everything dried.

  “Now, Michal,” she said, putting her brush away, “though the paste will wash off, the stain will remain on your skin for a few weeks. So go ahead and scrape off the paste while I entreat Asherah for you: that David will be bewitched and his heart will be cut so only you can satisfy him.”

  Jada lit incense and sat cross-legged on the floor, the middle finger and thumb of each hand making a circle. She droned a humming sound until the incense sticks were consumed. “The goddess has heard. The spell has been set. All that remains is for you to appear naked in front of him. Now put your clothes on so no other man spies you, lest he, too, become crazed with lust for you.”

  Jada kissed me. “May all your dreams come true, may David’s heart and body be tied to yours, and may he never escape your charm.” We walked back to my house and she took leave, looking back with a knit of worry on her brow.

  I waited for Ittai to deliver me. What if David does not accept the gift? What if I smother? What if I don’t have a chance to undress before he throws me out?

  Ittai showed up with an ox-cart. “Okay, Princess. Ready?”

  “Yes. Are you sure David is available?”

  “Of course. You mean to sneak into the palace, past the guards, and into his bedchamber. Clever, very clever.” He chuckled. “You are the most interesting person I know.”

  Ittai approved of my every scheme, always ready for a practical joke. I poked his belly. “Yes, and won’t he be surprised when he sees me.”

  Ittai unrolled the rug. “It is beautiful. Red, I like red. And the tree of life in the center. Pomegranates and partridges, so pregnant. Ha, ha, ha.”

  “Make sure David doesn’t leave me there too long, lest I smother.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t leave his door until he’s found you.”

  “Now, turn around. I have to undress.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You’re going in there naked?”

  “Of course not. I’ll be enclosed in the rug. And besides, I want the full effect of Jada’s artwork to hit his eyes as soon as he unrolls me.”

  Ittai turned around. “Okay, let me know when you’re ready.”

  I peeled off the linen robe and lay down with my arms outstretched over my head so that my hands would dangle near the border of the rug to form a breathing hole. “I’m ready.”

  Ittai’s gaze roved over the painted designs. “Does this rub off?”

  Our eyes met. A large wolfish grin spread over his face, and he lowered himself. “Let me taste and see if David should drink out of this cup or not.”

  I inhaled sharply and pushed him. “Stop it. You’re not supposed to touch.”

  Ittai raised both hands. “I was only going to warm you up for him. He’s having dinner and will be ready for a mighty fine refreshment.”

  The ox lowed in the setting sun. Ittai wrapped me in the rug and set me on the cart.

  * * *

  David perused the documents, his neck stiff from the late hour. The treaties had to be reviewed. He would extract a heavy tribute from the Edomites. He wiped his forehead, a long, tiresome day behind him. He dreaded the night when the headaches and bad dreams would consume him. Nothing could alleviate them as they tossed him night after night as helpless as a rudderless ship. His dinner grew cold on the table.

  A hurried knock distracted him. “O King, we have brought you a gift.”

  “Bring it in,” he replied. “Is it from the Syrian ambassador?”

  The door swung open, and Ittai bowed to the ground. “A gift from the Queen of the South.”

  Three guards lifted a large, heavy rug into the room and lowered it gently. They promptly turned around and left Ittai standing there with a huge grin slashed across his face.

  Ittai flourished his hand over the rug. “O King, your gift. Please unroll it right away.”

  David kicked the rug. “I’ve never heard of this Queen of the South. Why has she not sent messengers first?”

  “Search me,” Ittai replied. “I was coming back from my duties and found this ox-cart with a messenger asking me to deliver this to you. They said the Queen of the South wishes to make an alliance by sending this gift.”

  “Bring me the messenger so I might question him.” David’s tone indicated irritation. He had no time for jokes and this sounded like a huge distraction.

  “O King, I’m so sorry. I dismissed him. He seemed nervous, so I told him I’d take the gift to you myself.” Ittai peered from under dark, long eyebrows, like a puppy dog pleading for a bone.

  David stomped his foot and crossed his arms. “I do not take gifts from anyone without knowing who they are and what they are requesting. Take this back to the Queen of the South. I’m sorry, but I must have more information.”

  “O King, I would if I could, but this rug is extremely valuable and very heavy. It is starting to rain, and I would not want it ruined. Why don’t you open it now and see if you like it, then I’ll search for the messenger and bring him to you.” Ittai ran his hand across the rug, caressing it as if it held a live tiger.

  David laughed. If Ittai fondled it with any more vigor, the rug would purr, perhaps even roar.

  “I’m tired and had a long day. The rug can wait.”

  Ittai patted the rug right over the lump in the middle. “O King, the messenger said there is a message in the center of the rug. How can I convey your response, if you have not read it?”

  The rug wiggled ever so slightly.

  “Very well,” David said in a tone designed to show his displeasure at having his already cold dinner interrupted. “Go ahead and unroll it.”

  Ittai’s face showed agitation. “O King, do not be displeased, the messenger said the Queen of the South requested you open it personally.” He waved his hands palm up and hunched his shoulders up and down at the same time.

  “There is no Queen of the South. For some reason, you want me to open this rug. Well then, I won’t open it until you tell me what the hurry is.” David put on his firm king’s voice. Let her wait longer, this Queen of the South.

  Without a word, Ittai ran out the door and shut it. David snickered at his barely concealed stupidity.

  “Well, well, well, the rug is alive,” he said to the creature inside. He unrolled it slowly.

  Michal rolled out, naked, painted with serpents and not breathing, her face tinted blue. David jumped over her and blew into her mouth. He was rewarded with a flutter of her hands, a sharp gasp and a cough.

  “Michal, didn’t you know you’re not welcome in the palace?” David said with a stern voice. “You are the naughtiest girl I know.”

  A chuckle snuck out of his decidedly gruff tone. He threw her a robe and turned his back so she couldn’t see his smile. His chest tightened with a web of heat. The last time he touched her, he had not called her name, nor seen her face. It had been too much to handle.

  Michal wrapped her arms across his chest and nibbled the back of his neck. “I wished to deliver you a gift and some refreshment, make an alliance with you.”

  A tantalizing chill tickled the back of his
head and traveled down his spine. It had been so long since a woman wanted him, really wanted him, as a man, not as the king.

  She pulled him down onto the rug. “Feel this rug, so soft.”

  Holding his hand, she rubbed it across the nubby woolen fibers. Slowly, she removed every article of his clothing, handling every part of his body, awakening a deep, smoky, burning desire. She turned him facedown and massaged his shoulders and the back of his neck. His arousal pressed hard onto the rug.

  Completely energized, David fought for control, resisting the urge to move his hips on the rug. He unseated her and turned on his back. “Michal, let me look at you.”

  She stood and the robe slithered to the floor. “Behold, the Queen of the South.”

  He lost his breath. A real goddess stood above him. Her legs and arms were golden pillars climbing with vines. Twin serpents wrapped around her round breasts, and a girdle of flowers swirled around her waist. Curlicues twirled up her legs and entwined her arms.

  The room spun, and he feathered his fingers up her legs, tracing the vines to the poppy girdle. He knelt in front of her and pulled her down, licking the snakes’ heads circling her full and pendulous breasts, delighting in the way she pulled his hair and thrust her hips into his chest.

  Her body so very perfect, David slid a hand between her thighs, trying to control the tremors that tickled his belly as he stroked her slippery flesh. Heartened by her moans of pleasure, he laid her on the rug and arranged her hair so that it framed her hot, flushed face. “I’m going to impale you now. How do you want it, hard or soft?”

  “Both.”

  Greedy girl. She’d get more than she bargained for.

  “Good, because I’m going to make you feel absolutely and utterly miserable.”

  He wrapped a hand around her neck and turned her on top of him. Her body, soft and firm at the same time, he ached to enter her.

  “Does this make you miserable?” He licked and sucked her lips, so luscious, tender and wet. Then he gave her the edge of his teeth and scraped her lower lip, tugging and shaking before pushing his tongue to the corners of her mouth. Her tongue yielded to his pressure, and he thrust it in rhythm to the movement of his hips and the hard length pressed on her belly.