by Naomi Ruppin
“Foot soldiers—two thousand. Five hundred armed with swords and one thousand and five hundred armed with lances. Mounted soldiers—two hundred.”
When he had finished enumerating the king’s and the enemy’s armed forces, he dispatched the battle itself in a few words and went on to drone through the spoils taken in numbing detail.
“Sixty-seven bronze bowls. Sheep—two hundred and fifty-three, of which eighty-one lambs. Goats—four hundred and twenty-two, of which one hundred and twelve kids. Half of the goats black, and half mixed black-and-white.”
He paused in his recitation and at the same time stopped walking. He was behind my back and that made me uneasy. I turned to look at him and found my eyes level with his prominent stomach, altogether too close for ease. I whipped back to face the table.
“Go on. I have that part,” I said.
“All this walking is taxing.”
Altogether he had walked perhaps a length such as that of the main courtyard. In the same time, Moth would have completed ten times the distance, carrying a sack of rocks, at a run.
Nathan sat down on my right, his thigh pressing against mine. I shifted to my left. He leaned closer, slid his thigh against mine again and pointed to some blank spaces on the scroll.
“You’re missing some words. It’s just as I feared. The task is too much for you.”
“It is not!” I retreated to my left again. “No one can write as fast as you’re speaking. I remember the words and I’ll fill them in later.”
“Hmm! We shall see.”
We continued. The early winter twilight fell and Nathan called for servants to bring lamps, which he placed on the table in an arc around me. He took the opportunity to lean in toward me, bringing the scroll he was reading closer to the lamps.
“Forty-three Aramite slaves. Seventeen Hittite slaves.”
I yawned.
“Am I boring you, Abigail?”
“Not in the least. Most instructive. Are we done yet?”
“Nearly. But perhaps I should make more of an effort to entertain you. I shall tell you a chapter of history from another era.”
I almost clutched my forehead in despair. What now? A gripping account of the temple’s building materials? My desire to escape struggled with my reluctance to give Nathan any reason to fault my performance as a scribe.
“Shall I start a fresh scroll?” I finally asked.
“No, no. You don’t need to record this. This is just for your benefit. Some family history, in fact. Do you know how your father came to be king?”
I looked up in surprise. This might be interesting, after all.
“Yes. I mean, not really. He was King David’s heir.”
“Yes and no. He was his son, of course, but not his father’s eldest. King David too had several wives—though he did not come close to your father’s excesses—wives who preceded Queen Bathsheba.”
“Why didn’t the king’s oldest son inherit?”
Nathan sighed ostentatiously and said, “King David, may his memory live forever, was hapless when it came to his elder sons.”
Regrettably, no longer having to inscribe Nathan’s words made it necessary to look at him as he spoke. In the evening murk, his face was underlit by the lamps on the table. His heavy bearded jowls merged into the darkness around him and the lamp flames showed only his mouth and the bags under the black hollows of his eyes, so that his face appeared as a reddish skull. I shuddered and scrambled to my feet.
“I must stretch my legs after sitting for so long. Please go on.”
We had reversed positions; he sat at the table while I paced its length on the opposite side.
“King David loved his first son Absalom dearly. The king forgave his son every transgression, of which there were many. Yet Absalom could not wait for his father’s death. He betrayed him and gathered forces against him. He was killed by the king’s soldiers.
“Sadly the pattern repeated itself with the king’s next-born, Adoniah. He too gathered traitorous supporters, meaning to overtake his father’s rule. The king was very old and weak and was not aware of the growing rebellion. It was at this point that I felt compelled to intervene.”
“You? Personally?” I stopped walking and glanced at the eerie flame-colored visage that seemed to float above the table, then quickly looked away. I tried to imagine Nathan as he’d been then, some thirty years younger, but failed.
“Yes, of course. I’m sure you’ve heard that I was King David’s most trusted advisor, as I am your father’s.”
I couldn’t speak for the late King David, but I was fairly certain King Solomon would disagree with this self-evaluation. I kept silent.
“Your grandmother Queen Bathsheba also relies on me implicitly. It was I who advised her to bring the impending uprising to the king’s attention, and to remind him of his vow to crown Solomon.”
“Remind? Could he forget such a thing?”
“‘Remind’ in the sense of pointing out an obvious fact. Your father is an extraordinary man and clearly intended by God to be king. He told me so himself.”
“My father said this?” The king certainly struck me as arrogant, yet this didn’t seem like something he would say.
“No, foolish child. The Lord our God told me. Do you forget that I am his prophet?”
“Oh. Of course. Go on.”
“Then too, in his later years King David needed much…reminding. In any event, this is how your father became king. Since he was but twelve years of age at the time, you might say he became a king before he became a man!” Nathan chuckled at his own little jest. “Of course, clever as he was, at that age he needed much direction, which I was happy to provide. So it was that I…that we built the House of God, the most magnificent edifice the world has ever seen.”
Something about this story, the feeble flicker of the lamps’ losing battle with the night’s blackness, and the long confinement with Nathan combined to give me a sense of suffocation, and suddenly I needed badly to escape from the room.
“That is very interesting. But I really must go now or I’ll miss the evening meal.” Keeping the table between myself and Nathan, I rolled up the scroll I’d been writing on, which had long since dried. “I’ll finish this on my own and get it back to you. Good night.”
I started walking towards the door.
“Abigail.”
“Yes?” I stopped.
“I hear you’ve been asking some questions about one of the king’s wives.”
Now I turned. I could see his face glowing red above the lamps but I doubted if he could see my alarmed expression in the dark by the door.
“Who told you that?” I stalled.
“It makes no difference. I have many friends in the palace. Is this another of your…initiatives?”
I frantically considered how to answer this. The king had told me not to tell Nathan about my investigation. But apparently he already knew of it. At least he didn’t know that his betrothal to me hung in the balance—only the king, Khepri, Moth and I knew about that. I could see no point in lying about the king’s involvement.
“The king asked me to look into a certain matter,” I said.
“I see,” said the fiery head. “Wise as he is, he still makes errors in judgment when it comes to women. Why delay the punishment the heathen woman deserves and will surely meet? As for your own involvement, well, it will be better for all concerned when I am the one to instruct you on your conduct. And what have you discovered so far?”
I fervently wished to tell him to tend to his own concerns, but instead I said, “I’m sure you can appreciate that I must be discreet about the king’s affairs.”
I stared into the shadowy hollows where his eyes were with as much false confidence as I could summon.
“In other words, you’ve found nothing,” he said, with a self-satisfied smirk. “Very well. I’ll be happy to advise you when you realize you need help. I shall seek divine guidance. Until next time.”
I fled
to the dark corridor, hurried to the women’s wing and out into the courtyard, which was well lit with torches. As my eyes rested on the familiar sights of servants laying out the evening meal and women gathering to eat it, I had the sense of grounding myself in the blessedly mundane world after waking from a nightmare.
What had Nathan been trying to say with his unprompted story? That he had single-handedly made my father king? That he controlled my grandmother and had controlled my father as a child? That he controlled him even now? I found it hard to believe that of the king. Although it did seem like Nathan had some inexplicable sway over him. One thing was clear. Nathan was complacently certain that I would soon be his to command.
Chapter Eight
In the Cave
Thanks to Nathan’s waylaying me in the corridor, I didn’t get to see Moth at all that day. I couldn’t visit him first thing the next morning either, for I planned to go to the ritual bath as early as possible, hoping to speak to the attendant when no one else was around. I was a bit anxious about going to the bath on my own. I’d never been there and I didn’t know the way, though I knew it was a short walk down the mountain from the palace.
I had asked Timna to wake me just after she rose herself. I awoke to her patting my shoulder.
“Lady,” she whispered. “Lady, it’s after dawn.”
I opened my eyes and sat up reluctantly.
“Thank you, Timna. Good morning.”
“Bright morning,” she answered. She remained fidgeting by the bed as I got up, drank some water and looked around for my clothes. I looked at her questioningly.
“Lady, what did you want me to do?” she asked.
“Do? You’ve done it. I wanted you to wake me.”
“Oh. I thought that you needed my help with something else.” She sounded disappointed.
“Actually, Timna, there is something you can help me with. I want to visit the ritual bath. Do you happen to know the way?”
“Surely, lady. I pass it on my way to home. But of course, you can’t go there alone.”
“Why not?”
“Because…because you can’t. The palace ladies go in groups, three days a week, with servants and a guard or two to accompany them. There’s a group going tomorrow. You can go then.”
“No,” I replied crisply. “I must go today, and I must go alone. Just tell me the way.”
Timna shook her head skeptically, but then shrugged and described the landmarks I should look for on the way to the bath.
“Thank you,” I said. “Now that I think of it, there’s one more thing you can do for me. Can you please go to the midwives and ask if there were any births in the night, and report back to me later?”
“Yes, lady.”
When I arrived at the main palace gate, I saw that its two massive wooden doors were still closed. It was flanked by two guards, sheathed swords hanging from their waists. One guard was as tall as a tree, while the other had the girth of an ox. I walked over to the ox-like one, as of the two he intimidated me slightly less.
“Good morning,” I said. “Can you open the gate, please?”
He looked as surprised as an ox might, if he were suddenly addressed by a rock rabbit.
“I cannot, lady. We open the gate after the morning change of guards.”
“But I need to get out.”
I moved over to where the gate doors met. The guard moved to block my way.
“You can’t go outside unaccompanied, lady.”
“Why not?”
“You…you just can’t. It’s forbidden.”
“But I must! How can I arrange it?”
“I don’t really know, lady. Perhaps you could request an audience with the queen to discuss the matter?”
I turned on my heel and stomped away from him, fuming as I went back to my tent. Women really were prisoners in the palace! I had no desire to talk to Queen Bathsheba. Maybe I could ask the king for an escort, as I was after all acting on his behalf. But that might take half the morning, and I had no wish to be shadowed by some hulking guard.
When I entered my tent, Timna was sitting on the rug, waiting for me.
“Have you been here all this time?” I asked irritably.
“No, lady. I went to ask the midwives in between. I knew you’d be back. I told you. You can’t go to the bath alone.”
“Well? What did they say?”
“Vered gave birth in the night—the tall Vered, not the short one. There was much rejoicing in the servants’ hall. Well, some rejoicing. It’s only a girl.”
I thought fleetingly of my census and how quickly it would become outdated. But I had other things to worry about.
“Was Vered the only one?” I asked.
“Yes, lady. You can be sure I know why you ask. But only Vered.”
“Thank you, Timna. Please let me know if you hear any more news.”
“The very moment! I have the ears of a hawk.”
I wasn’t entirely sure a hawk has ears, but I chose not to belabor the subject.
“You leave the palace to go home at night, don’t you?” I asked.
“Yes, lady. And to go to the market sometimes, during the day.”
“Then how do you get out of the palace?”
“From the back gate. The guards don’t stop the servants.”
I looked at her thoughtfully and said, “Timna, I need your dress.”
She hugged herself as if I meant to strip her by force.
“But what will I wear, lady?”
“I’ll give you one of mine. Any one you like.”
My array of dresses was pitiful compared with my sisters’ garments, but to Timna it was the height of luxury. She chose a linen dress with purple trim. Then she modestly turned her back to me, drew off her rather stained white woolen dress and held it back over one shoulder for me to take.
Timna’s dress fitted me rather snugly, as my contour was fuller in some places than hers. As the day was cold, I added a thicker brown woolen shirt over the dress. I tied a kerchief loosely over my head, so that it hid my face partially. I went out behind the palace and lingered by the well until I saw a small group of merchants exit the kitchen. Then I joined them casually, walking a pace or two behind them as they went through the back gate. To my relief, the guard at the gate didn’t look at me twice. I circled back toward the front of the palace, cutting through an almond grove and only moving onto the road when I was out of sight of the palace.
The ritual bath was some way down the main road, inside a mountain cave where there was a natural spring. As I walked down the mountain under a colorless sky, I shivered in the wind despite my two layers of wool. The clouds promised rain and I hoped I could get to the cave and back before getting a different kind of bath. It was the first time I’d ever left the palace compound alone, and it felt very strange but pleasing. I thought that maybe this was how Moth felt when he walked the narrow rim of the high palace wall—a bit frightened but exhilarated.
On the way I looked for the signs Timna had mentioned. Somewhat to my surprise, I found the landmarks in the precise order she’d described. I passed the olive grove, the barley field and the sheep path that forked off from the main road, then looked for the outcrop of limestone shaped like a large fist. A short way after it I found the narrow footpath that led to the cave. As I picked my way carefully up the rocky trail, I looked for cyclamens hiding under the rocks, with their modestly bowed heads and pale pink crowns, but it was still too early in winter for them to bloom.
When I arrived at the mouth of the cave I found a young girl about my age, with a round face and eyes as dark as carob pods, sitting on a rock before the entrance, hugging herself and shivering. She was much younger than I’d expected the bath attendant to be. On a table beside her were a large jug and several blackened lamps, only one of which was burning.
She looked up at me and wordlessly held out her hand, palm up.
I took her hand awkwardly and said, “Good morning. Greetings.”
; She burst out laughing and said, “And a bright morning to you, though it doesn’t look like we’ll be getting one. Greetings are well and good, but how about payment?”
“Oh.” I felt terribly foolish. Timna had neglected to mention this part, and the thought that payment might be required had not occurred to me. “I’m sorry. It’s my first time here. And I don’t want to bathe. I just want to talk to you. I think. Are you the bath attendant?”
She made a wry face.
“Hardly.” She pulled up the skirt of her dress far enough for me to see the slim copper chain welded in a loop around her ankle, indicating that she was somebody’s slave. I was surprised—the slaves in the palace were all foreign, but this girl looked and sounded like one of my own people.
“She’s inside,” she said. “And she beats me if I let anyone in without payment. Also, you’ll be wanting oil for your lamp.”
“I didn’t bring one.”
“You can borrow one. But like I said, you’ll have to pay.”
“How do people usually pay?”
“Grain or bread. Oil. Wool, sometimes.”
“And your mistress lets you handle the payments?” I was stalling for time. Of course I had no form of payment on me.
“Oh, she knows I won’t cheat her or run away like one of the foreign ones. In another two years I will pay off my father’s debt to my mistress’s husband. When I do, I can go home.”
I was struck for a moment by our respective predicaments at the hands of our fathers. Which was worse, being sold into temporary slavery, or being given for life to a man you despise? But I needed to concentrate on the task at hand. After the ordeal of escaping the palace, the last thing I wanted to do was to go back to get payment. I was eager to get on with my investigation in private, and other women would surely be arriving at the bath soon.
“How about that?” the girl asked. She was pointing at the wooden pendant that hung around my neck, the one Moth had made for me.
“No, it’s…I can’t give you this.” I clutched the pendant, then pulled my woolen shirt over my head and held it out to her. “Will this do?”