Queen of Sheba (10 page)

She had only this one night to come to terms with this monstrous affront to her honor and her dignity. Her old beliefs in the god of her people, her trust in his priests, her own sense of dignity and power had all been stripped away in this tawdry performance of Il Hamd’s.

She would have liked to have had him executed, but knew almost as she thought of it that this was impossible. The people would have to know his crime. She herself had elevated him to a position of honor that would be hard to discredit. He would, of course, deny everything if confronted. Whatever she did it could not include removing or punishing Il Hamd at present.

Her mind quickly went over all the reasons he had given for deceiving her. It would solve the problem of an heir, he had argued. She shuddered to think of it. This old goat of a man would father her son! He would actually let everyone, including herself, think it was the moon god that had lain with her!

And what would have happened if by some chance she had not become pregnant? Would he have insisted she return to the temple? She sat up in bed and hid her face in her hands. It was too unthinkably horrible.

Toward morning she got out of bed, wrapped a warm woolen robe around her shoulders, and went out onto the balcony. It was the blackness before the dawn. The moon had gone down and she was glad not to be reminded of her own foolish response to the ergot drug and what she had thought was Ilumquh’s wooing. She must somehow put this all behind her. Il Hamd was right about only one thing, and that was that now she was left with all of her problems and had no solutions and no hope of a solution.

If she said nothing of what had happened in the temple, didn’t expose the priest for being a fake, then she had a few months while everyone waited to see if she was pregnant before the pressure would start all over again for her to marry.

The other immediate problem that would face her this morning was the trade route crisis. She would have to give the Egyptian ambassador
some answer. Imagine the cleverness of the pharaoh to place his sister in Solomon’s court. How had he known this small, upstart king would come to wield such power? In fact she wondered at the very idea of such a small country growing in such awesome power that it could shake the great kingdoms of the Nile and Sheba.

She was almost inclined to laugh at such a possibility. But then, if the pharaoh and her own spies were right, if this king really had built a fleet of ships to sail down the Red Sea, their worlds could be shattered. The old trade routes would be obsolete. The coming and going of the caravans that paid such rich tribute meant everything to their economy. Without them they would all become nomads roaming the desert, lucky to find a few dates and some camel’s milk.

She would have to stop this morbid brooding. There was a little time before she would be forced to decide on a consort, but the problem of the trade route was immediate and urgent. The Egyptian ambassador would expect his answer today, and he wanted war.

The sky began to lighten in the east. The great humped mountains on each side of the dam lay against the graying horizon like sleeping giants. A slight breeze sprang up and rustled through the branches of the palm trees in her garden. Faint and silvery upon the crisp morning air, she heard the jingling of the ornaments on the camels’ harnesses as the caravans began to form outside her gate, arranging themselves in formation for the long trip north.

For a moment she let her mind wander out past the wall to the north gate. There would be the usual excitement. The scolding of the camels that insisted stubbornly on remaining seated as if their loads were too heavy and the drivers irrational. This awful sound of complaint always seemed to come from some place way down in their throat. Their soft upper lip would snarl and their half-closed eyes stare off in space as though pondering some profound secret.

The other drivers would gather and give advice while the camel’s owner would tug and pull and cajole, all to no effect. If it lasted long enough, all the drivers would shout obscenities at the beast and threaten to leave without him. At this point the obstinate animal would seem to sense the game was over. He’d rather meekly rise and follow his driver off into the mist.

She could see it all and envied them the excitement of leaving familiar surroundings and going off into the unknown. Her father had found short trips out into the desert for a day of hunting the perfect escape. No ambassadors could reach him, no disputes had to be settled, no formalities had to be observed.

Her feet were bare and the coldness of the alabaster flooring brought her back to the present. There was no such escape for her. She must stiffen her resolve. Let no one break through her composure. Above all she must say nothing of her experience at the temple or show any aversion to Il Hamd. Hopefully he would have the wit to stay out of her way.

She hurried back to her rooms and clapped for Najja and her maids. To her surprise they all came pushing and crowding into the room, looking self-conscious as their eyes studied her face and then traveled down to her feet and back as they tried to determine if she had been affected in any way by her experience of the night before.

They were silent. No one seemed able to think of anything to say. Finally Bilqis waved her hand in dismissal. “Go, go, all of you but Najja and the Egyptian. I must hurry. I have important matters to settle today.”

They seemed to come to life at her words and turning, pushed and shoved to be the first to start the day’s round of activities. Actually they were eager to get a safe distance from the queen to ponder all that had happened and to discuss and speculate as to what had really taken place in the small temple. Why had she said nothing? Why did she seem intent on picking up the usual routine with no visible change? They all wanted answers to their questions and each was determined to get them one way or another.

In the middle of the morning the Egyptian emissaries returned. Immediately the scheduled business of the day was canceled and Bilqis made preparations to receive them. As her pages came and fastened the thin veil over her face that she wore in the presence of strangers, Aidel, her chief counselor, hurried forward to advise her. “My queen,” he said, “the Egyptians must leave early tomorrow. They must have an answer for the pharaoh.”

“So soon? I’ve not even heard their proposal.”

Aidel looked around the room to see that he was not being closely
observed, then putting his hand to his mouth he whispered, “The pharaoh wants to wage a war against Israel. They want us to join them and as we march from here with as many men as we can gather, they will march from the delta.”

“But …”

“Oh don’t bother yourself over it. It’s all planned. When we come to Edom we will be joined by more men.”

“Men from Edom?” the queen questioned. “They are also ready to fight?”

“The men of Edom have an old score to settle. They have just been waiting for such an opportunity.”

“And what is their complaint against this king, this king … what is his name?”

“Solomon. His name is Solomon. Their complaint goes back before his time. It was his father, a king named David, who sent his general down to Edom and had all the men killed. Only one of the princes, a mere child escaped. His name was Hadad.”

“Yes I know of this Hadad. He has married the sister of the Egyptian queen Taphenes. So he’s back in his own country now ready to fight. But where will he get his army?”

“He’s very rich. They say he’s hiring tribesmen from the desert and paying them handsomely.”

“Hired mercenaries don’t sound too dependable.”

“Ah, but he is not the only one preparing to come against Solomon. There is another adversary. A man called Rezon. He was a citizen of Sobah and is now living in Damascus. These kings have now gathered armies and are waiting, ready to join us in fighting Solomon.”

“Ready to join us fighting? You sound as though it has already been decided.”

“Yes, my queen. A very clever pincer movement. Egypt will move from the south, Hadad with us from the east, and Rezon will come down from the north. We’ll totally crush this king and bring his big plans to defeat.”

“So, it has all been planned and I have not even been consulted.” She was flushed with anger, though her voice was steady and calm.

“My queen, wars aren’t something you’re interested in, and we thought …”

“You thought you could manage everything behind my back.”

“No, no, that isn’t true. We have just contacted people and discussed plans and now it is time to give the Egyptians an answer.”

“It’s very obvious you thought by getting things all lined up I’d have no choice but to go along with your plans.” She was stunned. It was evident that her trusted counselor Aidel had been hiding the true state of affairs from her for a long time.

Suddenly everything seemed out of control, at least out of her control. First it had been the High Priest Il Hamd and now it was Aidel. Both men wanted to manipulate and manage things for her own good. They didn’t hate her, they just wanted to use her to get on with their own schemes.

Aidel stiffened. “My queen, I’ve done nothing but manage things for your own good. When the Egyptians come, all you must do is agree to join them in this venture and the trade route will be saved.”

“All you have to do.” The words had such a familiar ring. They no doubt had discussed it thoroughly and had decided everything. She was just to be a convenient tool in their hands. Fierce pride rose up within her. They would not have tricked her father this way, and she must not let them succeed, or she would totally lose control. If she only had time she could think of something. As it was, the Egyptian ambassador and his whole entourage were already standing in the great golden doorway. She must think fast. There was no time, and that was just what her counselors were counting on.

She stiffened and with a nod dismissed her counselor and at the same time raised the scepter that gave the Egyptians the signal they were waiting for. She could see Aidel smiling and nodding smugly to the other elders and she knew he was assuring them that she would go along with their decision.

With their usual riot of feathered fans and colorful banners, the Egyptians advanced to the foot of the throne and bowed with their foreheads to the cool alabaster tiles. As they rose Bilqis noticed Aidel and the Egyptian ambassador exchanged glances that clearly said they were in some agreement. It was evident they had talked and thought everything was all arranged. This meeting with the queen of Sheba was to them nothing but a formality.

It must have been at times like this that her father had escaped to the desert for a day or two. She wished it were possible for her to do the same. Given time she could find some solution.

“Your highness!” the Egyptian ambassador said, as he bowed again with a great show of respect and deference.

She motioned for him to rise. A plan had suddenly presented itself, a plan so daring, so ingenious she hardly dared broach it as a solution. She looked at the Egyptian, rising with such an air of superiority and then at Aidel. He stood feet wide apart, head thrown back, waiting for the words he expected her to say.

She ran her hand along the claw of the leopard skin that she had chosen to wear on this occasion. It reminded her again that she was the leopard queen and she must maintain her position at all costs.

“Your highness,” the Egyptian said again, “we await your decision. Our men are ready to fight and our allies are ready to join us. The plans are all made.” At this the Egyptian scribes came forward unrolling the parchment that contained the agreement. It was obvious, they had the wax ready and all they wanted from her was her signet pressed into the soft red mixture.

“These are the terms of the agreement?” she asked as she stretched out her hand for the scroll.

Quickly Aidel moved forward. “My queen,” he said, “all that is needed is your signet stamped here.” He took the scroll, unrolled it, and with one long, gnarled finger indicated the space at the bottom.

Indignation and anger flooded over her anew. She found it hard to maintain her cool dignity. They were all, Il Hamd, her counselors, and the Egyptians, all treating her as though she were of no consequence instead of the queen. “Protecting her” is how they would have described it. Even the veil she wore in the presence of these strangers was a symbol of her helplessness.

Still holding to the leopard skin with one hand, she reached up and tore the fragile veil from her face. She enjoyed for the moment the startled look of the Egyptian ambassador, who staggered back and almost tripped over a kneeling scribe. She ignored her counselor, who lowered the scroll and stood openmouthed in amazement.

Her voice was sweet but firm as she announced, “I have considered
all the facts and have concluded there is a better way. We may not need to fight.”

“Not fight?” The Egyptian ambassador seemed totally bewildered.

“The plans are made …” Aidel’s look of shock replaced his usual smug expression.

“We have readied supplies,” one of her army commanders added.

“We’ve gathered camels and drivers,” another proffered.