A Garden Locked

by Naomi Ruppin

  Then the boys practiced, five at a time. None of them managed to hit a pole. But I noted with pride that Moth’s throws were straightest and farthest. As I watched the muscles of his arm bunch up for the throw, I marveled at the strength of the young man who had grown out of the skinny child I’d met while being expelled from his lesson.

  Finally the session ended and Gideon dismissed the boys. I was sorry to see them go, for while I’d been watching them I’d been distracted from my own thoughts. Only Moth stayed on to practice some more. I waited until the others dispersed to walk up behind him, and mindful of Gideon’s warning, waited for him to throw his spear before speaking to him.

  “Moth.”

  “Abigail! I was worried when you didn’t come yesterday. Let’s get out of the sun.”

  We walked over to the stone basin that stood near the horse run, filled with fresh water for the boys. Moth drank and splashed some water on his face. Then we went to sit in the small, shaded pavilion from which the king sometimes watched chariot practice. Moth’s right foot tapped rhythmically on the ground. Unless he was asleep, some part of him was always moving.

  “Well? What did he want?” Moth asked.

  I had been longing to talk to Moth since the dire meeting of the day before. Now I felt strangely apprehensive.

  “Moth, he…he said I was to marry Nathan.”

  I peered at him anxiously but I didn’t see the reaction I expected. He looked as he had when I’d tried to explain my census calculations to him. Then his face cleared.

  “You’re joking. What did he really want?”

  “I wish I were joking. He said Nathan’s asked to marry me.”

  “Nathan? Nathan?! That devious old…gluttonous old…old man? He had the blood to ask for you as a wife? And the king agreed?”

  “It appears so.”

  “Well, tell him you won’t!”

  “I tried. It was not well-received.”

  Moth stood and started pacing in agitation.

  “The king truly is the tyrant they say he is! And Nathan is a lecherous old goat. He’s already gone through two wives, and now he wants his greedy hands on a third innocent girl.” Moth turned and grabbed my shoulders so hard that I winced. “I’ll kill him before I let him touch you!”

  I was impressed, alarmed and touched at his intensity. He clearly didn’t mean his words as a figure of speech.

  “Don’t talk like that, Moth. Come, let’s walk.”

  We stood and began to circle the field, walking in the path well-trodden by horses, until Moth pulled me onto the grass after I nearly stepped in a pile of horse droppings.

  “I don’t know what to do.” I shivered in a sudden wind. “Just thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach.”

  “Let’s run away. I’ll come with you.”

  For a moment it was tempting. Not to have to brave the outside world on my own, but to be accompanied by my best friend.

  “I thought about it. But the king’s realm is wide and his reach even farther. What are the chances I could avoid being caught? And why should I take you away from your home and your training? You might never see your mother again.”

  “I’m willing to risk that.”

  My eyes filled and I took his hand. “Thank you for saying that, Moth.”

  He looked at me quickly, searchingly, then detached his hand and looked away. “Then it’s settled? We’ll escape?”

  “No. I don’t think that’s the solution.”

  “Then what is? Abigail, you’re the brightest girl I know. Probably the brightest person I know. Think!”

  “I intend to.”

  We had skirted the entire field and we began a second round.

  “You’ve tried refusing,” Moth said. “Maybe you should try something more positive. You’ve met the king a few times now; what will gain his favor? What does he like?”

  I tried to remember everything I knew the king was partial to.

  “Animals. Especially horses. Gold trinkets.”

  “That doesn’t help us. What else?”

  “Women. Poetry.” I smiled grimly. “Shall I write him a poem?”

  “Only if we can’t come up with a better idea. What else?”

  I thought of Khepri’s story about the Queen of Sheba.

  “Riddles.” There seemed to be a glimmer of promise in that. Games, numbers, challenges of the mind—all things I was good at. And something else that was just eluding me. I teased at it for a half-circle around the field and then stopped walking suddenly as I remembered. “Wagers!”

  §

  I took the rest of the day to sort out the details of my plan. There weren’t many; it was simple, desperate and highly risky, even if the king should agree to my proposal. The first step would be persuading him. I practiced stating my case, with Moth playing the king and trying to predict his objections as I tried to counter them.

  The king hadn’t said when I was to marry Nathan, but there was no point in delay. I didn’t know what the formal procedure was for requesting an audience with him so I decided to talk to Khepri, who would surely have his ear at some point on any given day.

  Late next morning I waited outside the servants’ dining hall. This was when they ate their second meal, before serving the midday meal to the court. Through the open door came the buzz of the servants chattering and the smell of lentil stew, which they were sopping up with pieces of bread. I wondered if they then resented serving their masters mutton and wine. When they began streaming out after the meal, I searched for Khepri among them. It wasn’t hard to pick out his pale, painted face and his flute-like voice regaling his friends with some story.

  “Khepri!” I called.

  “Abigail.” He detached himself from the group clustered around him and came over to me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you in private.”

  “Come keep me company while I work.”

  I followed him through the kitchen and out to the craftsmen’s workrooms. We entered a small, dim chamber next to the potters’ room. Khepri opened the shutters and when the light streamed in I saw a large table laden with pieces of gleaming cloth the color of wheat, multi-hued threads, and copper pins and needles thrust into tiny woolen cushions. I remembered that on top of all his other duties, Khepri’s official role was tailor to the king.

  Khepri seated himself, took up a piece of cloth and a needle and proceeded to add small, neat stitches to the seam of what appeared to be a wide sleeve.

  “I’ve been meaning to talk to you too,” he said.

  “Really?” I sat on the bench beside him. “What about?”

  “I’ve heard that you’re to marry Nathan.”

  I shouldn’t have been surprised that he knew.

  “Yes, well, not if I can help it.” I plucked a cluster of pins from their cushion and jabbed them viciously back one by one in a domed formation, making a small porcupine.

  “Then we’re of one mind,” Khepri said.

  I looked up from the pin cushion, surprised again. No ordinary slave would dare express such an opinion. But Khepri was no ordinary slave.

  “He’s repulsive.” I said.

  Khepri put down his sewing to look at me.

  “More than that. He’s evil.”

  “What do you mean? Is there something going on with Nathan and the king’s taxes?”

  “That I couldn’t say. But I know he uses people for his own vile purposes.”

  “Then help me, Khepri! Can’t you talk to the king? You’re so close to him. You see him every day.”

  Khepri sighed. “I’m close to him the way his caged parakeets are close to him. Only I’m more articulate and slightly more amusing. He never takes kindly to being told what to do, and I’ve no doubt that he won’t tolerate it from a slave.”

  “But…well, then give me your counsel. Is there anything you can think of that might persuade him to change his mind?”

  Khepri was silent for a moment before answering.


  “It’s not the best time to cross swords with him. Lately he’s been more agitated than usual, though I’m not sure what’s troubling him. I suggest you don’t try direct opposition. Still, he’s rightly known as a champion of justice. You need to make him see, no, feel your side of it. There’s one thing you might try alluding to. But tactfully.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It was before my time, but I know that as a very young king he was forced into political marriages, which ended badly. I’m sure he wishes they’d never happened.”

  “Thank you. I’ll think about how to use that. Can you ask him to give me an audience today?”

  “I can try. But I can’t vouch for his response. Be ready at all times.”

  All that day I waited anxiously for Khepri, never straying too far from my tent. I had despaired of hearing from him that day and was readying myself for sleep, when I heard him calling me softly outside my tent. I hastened to join him.

  “Should I come now? I must dress again.”

  “No, no, I only came so you wouldn’t think I’d forgotten you. I’m sorry, Abigail. He refuses to see you. He says you should do as he bids you and that he has nothing to say to you.”

  “Well, I have plenty to say to him! I must speak to him.”

  “He can be stubborn as an ass. He wouldn’t listen. When he tries on his new robe, I think he’ll find I’ve forgotten quite a few pins in it.”

  I smiled a little. “I appreciate that, Khepri, but advise me now. What can I do?”

  He was silent for a few moments.

  “Very well. Come to his chambers tomorrow after the evening meal. He’s usually in his best mood when the day is done and I’ve poured him a glass of wine. Wait outside until I open the door. I can’t promise he’ll listen, but we can try.”

  Needless to say I barely slept again that night. I alternated between running through my arguments once more and imagining nightmare eventualities where the king threw me out unheard and I found myself in the ceremonial marriage chamber with Nathan. Every time I thought of the word Khepri had used to condemn him—“evil”—my heart felt as if a ruthless fist were crushing it, and I wondered what it was that Khepri knew about him. Perhaps it had to do with the source of Nathan’s strange power over the king.

  I spent another agitated morning in the women’s courtyard, wondering if the days I would do so were numbered, hearing but not taking in the women’s talk. In the afternoon I went to visit Moth in his room. Neither of us could bear to act out my coming confrontation with the king again, so we played Jang-Cheh. We were both distracted, making foolish mistakes but being so merciful with each other that no one gained an advantage. Finally we called it a draw. We parted just before the evening meal.

  “Good luck, Abigail. Be brave. I know you can do this.”

  To my surprise, he embraced me—something I didn’t remember his ever doing since we’d met. His arms were so painfully tight about me that I couldn’t separate his heartbeat from my own. I was breathless when he released me and I gasped a little before saying, “I hope you’re right.”

  Back in the women’s courtyard, I toyed with my food until the evening meal was over, then mounted the stairs to the king’s chambers. The guard outside his door was yawning and scratching himself. He stood at attention when he saw me and eyed me suspiciously. I offered no explanation as to why I was there and I did my best to ignore him.

  I heard the king’s voice through the door. I couldn’t make out the words but his tone was angry. This didn’t bode well and my heart began to race even faster. Then I heard a woman speaking. Clearly Khepri had not anticipated this. Was he even there inside the room? Should I retreat? Undecided, I stood my ground.

  The king spoke again and the door opened. Amisi, the Egyptian wife I’d met during my poll, came out. Her lovely face was streaked with tears. Khepri followed her, looking most distressed.

  “Abigail!” He looked startled, then his face hardened to an irate expression. “Leave now. This is not the time.”

  Why did he seem angry with me? I was there at his own advice. But I had no time to think about it. After suffering the intolerable tension of the past two days, I couldn’t bear to prolong it a moment longer. I had to speak to the king, come what may.

  “Khepri, I can’t stand to wait. I’m going in.”

  I darted past him into the king’s sitting room and closed the door, slamming it much harder than I’d intended. The king was standing there, sipping wine from a golden goblet. He looked up and appeared entirely disgusted to see me.

  “Abigail, I already refused you once. Be gone.”

  “No.” I was trembling but I hoped he couldn’t see it. “I need to speak to you.”

  I had rehearsed my speech countless times, but for a sickening moment my mind was a blank page. I cast about for any clue of what I was supposed to be saying. Then the word ‘alternative’ flashed through my thoughts and I remembered. I rushed on before he could protest.

  “I’ve come to speak to you about my marriage. I object to the one you propose.”

  He was sneering at my daring to express an opinion, and my renewed anger gave me courage.

  “You asked what alternative I had. Well, I thought of one.”

  I could have gone on but I held back. He was regarding me as if I were some odorous but rather fascinating beetle. I waited. His curiosity won out.

  “Pray tell,” he finally said.

  “I want to be a judge,” I said. “I have a mind and I know how to use it. You’ve seen that yourself. I can be useful to you. You never have time to hear all the cases on your list. Rather than turn them away as you do now, you could assign the lesser cases to me.”

  I could almost have laughed at his expression. The beetle had stood up on its hind legs.

  “What could you possibly know about holding judgment?” he said.

  “More than you think. I’ve been attending your court for years.”

  He had to wash down this declaration with several sips of wine before he spoke.

  “Have you? Name one case.”

  “The murder in Even Gilead. The left-handed lute player. That was the first trial I saw.”

  “So that’s where I know you from. I’ve seen you in the audience.” He poured himself more wine. “However, women cannot be judges.”

  “They can. There was at least one—the Prophet Deborah. I learned that in your sons’ classroom.” At his raised eyebrows I added, “Well, just outside the classroom. Deborah was a prophet, a judge and a warrior.”

  “That may be so,” he conceded. “Or it may just be a legend. If it’s true, it happened three hundred years ago and those were extreme times, long before the monarchy. There are no such women in modern times.”

  “What about Bilkis of Sheba? She’s a wise and powerful queen and could surely serve as a judge if she wanted to.”

  The king looked as he had when I’d made an unexpected move in Jang-Cheh—surprised, annoyed and a little impressed. He sipped at his wine.

  “Bilkis is unique among women,” he said.

  “Why should that be?” I countered. “Because she’s Sheban? Is a horse swifter for being black, brown or white?”

  I supposed he could find no good answer for that, for he gave me none but said, “Let’s assume for a moment that being a woman is no obstacle. You’re not even a woman, you’re a child.”

  “Yet I’m old enough to marry?” My irritation was making me stray from my planned arguments. I reined in my tongue. “This marriage to Nathan—it’s unjust. He’s four times my age. And he’s a…well, I won’t presume to say what he is, but I don’t like him. How would you feel if you were forced to marry someone you knew would make you miserable?”

  The king was silent and I hoped that meant my words were hitting their mark. I went on.

  “I don’t wish to defy you or make trouble for you, but only to serve you if I can. You say I’m a child, but you were two years younger than I am when you became king.”
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  “An experience I don’t wish on anyone. And I had advisors.”

  “You could advise me if you chose,” I countered.

  “But then you will have added to my duties, not lessened them.”

  I could see a twitch behind his beard and I could have sworn he was enjoying provoking me.

  “Well, then I’ll manage without your help!”

  “I sincerely doubt that.”

  Here it was, my final move and the one I hoped would be the decisive one.

  “Would you care to wager on that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Test me. Give me a case to solve.”

  He paused. At least he didn’t laugh.

  “Any case?”

  “Any case you choose,” I said recklessly.

  “And the stakes?”

  “If I solve the case to your satisfaction, you make me a judge.”

  “And if you don’t?”

  I gritted my teeth. “Then I will marry Nathan.”

  I’d been standing all this time, revolving to face the king as he paced about the room. Now he sat, and gestured for me to do the same. I allowed myself to feel some guarded relief. He was hearing me out. And so far, he hadn’t said no.

  “As it happens,” he said slowly, “You’ve come upon me just when a troubling matter has arisen. One that’s difficult for me to be impartial about myself. Now that I think on it, someone who can be unobtrusive, someone from within the women’s court, may well have an advantage. And finally, it’s you who have brought it to my attention in the first place. Yes, the more I consider it, the more I think it fitting. I have a case for you. Do you accept it?”

  “I do,” I said rashly. I felt triumphant. I had succeeded in convincing him! I could hardly wait to tell Moth.

  “I have one condition,” he said. “Nathan must not know of our wager. In fact, it’s better that he not know at all that you’re examining a case.”

  “Very well. But what if I solve it? He’ll have to know then.”

  “Let’s not tread the grapes before the harvest. Now as to the case itself. Did you see the woman leaving my chambers just now as you were…storming in?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s one of my wives. You may recall meeting her during your census.”