Authors: Roberta Kells Dorr
“Sureeyah, where is Sureeyah?” she called in a slightly irritated tone.
The other maidens by the lily pool held their breath. Tipti didn’t have much patience with a maid’s dalliance when she was needed. They were just looking from one to the other in nervous anticipation of the queen’s outburst of anger when Sureeyah rushed into the room and hurried to the queen and fell at her feet.
“My queen. I have bad news. I must see you alone.”
Tipti never liked bad news. She didn’t really believe there was bad news for a queen. She should be able to manage things so nothing could happen that wasn’t to her liking. Now she looked at Sureeyah and plucked a big, ripe grape from a golden dish before she made up her mind to hear what she had to say.
“Where is this news from?” she asked as she leisurely flicked a fly from the grapes on the tray.
“My queen, the messenger was from the king and the news is of Jeroboam.” At this the queen sat up very straight and her eyes became narrow and calculating. She nodded to those sitting near her and they quickly got up and moved away.
“What news of Jeroboam do you have?” she demanded.
“Solomon has declared Jeroboam a traitor and has sent Beniah to execute him.”
“Execute him!” Tipti jumped to her feet and paced back and forth. She knew that if Solomon had already given the order it would only take Beniah a short time to find the young man, and there was no doubt that he would put a swift end to him. Tipti also quickly surmised that Solomon was giving her an equal chance to rescue him. Now it was her wits against Beniah. She knew where Jeroboam was, and she knew she would have to
go to him and persuade him to flee. He wouldn’t even have time to go home to say goodbye to his mother. In fact, he must not go home, as that would be the first place Beniah would go to look for him.
“Get my mule and have it ready to go. Alert my men I want them with me.” The queen knew she would have to go in disguise. She’d even have to ride the despised mule. She quickly changed clothes with Sureeyah and was soon on her mule riding out the valley gate.
She found Jeroboam just where she had known he would be, in his small olive grove supervising the pickers. She hurriedly told him all that she knew and then she cautioned him, “You must not go home. No doubt Beniah is there all ready. You’ll have to flee from here just as you are.”
“Where am I to go?” Jeroboam asked.
“Why, to my brother in Egypt. You can march with him when he comes against Solomon.”
“And what if he doesn’t march against the king?”
“Then you’ll wait. Make plans, and when the king dies, you’ll be ready to challenge Rehoboam.”
“And the pharaoh, your brother, will he accept me?”
“Here, take this and he’ll understand everything.” Tipti lifted a golden chain with her own cartouche hanging from it and placed it around Jeroboam’s neck. The strange drawings on it spelled out her name. Not Tipti but the formal Egyptian name by which her brother always called her.
Jeroboam held it in his hand for a few moments and seemed to study its meaning. Then he tucked it inside his robe lest it be a temptation to robbers. He seemed to be stunned by the sudden turn of events. He had pictured everything so differently. “Then we’ll see what comes of a priest’s predictions,” he said finally.
Tipti reached into one of the saddlebags and drew out some nondescript pieces of cloth. “Here are the ten tribes promised you by that priest from Shiloh. Keep them. It’s a fair prediction that will give you much comfort while you wait in Egypt. Now, you must go. Forget the olive harvest. You have bigger things to tend to. Beniah must not catch you or all our dreams will come to an end.”
Jeroboam stooped and kissed the hem of her garment, then looked at her as though wanting to remember this moment during all the time
he would be in exile. Finally, glancing around at his grove of trees, he shrugged and started off on a shepherd’s path that would take him to Bet Shemesh, Gath, and then the River of Egypt, where he would be safely out of Solomon’s hands.
It was late that night, as Solomon sat with his brother Nathan, that he finally received Beniah’s report. “Jeroboam has fled to Egypt.”
Those words were like Beniah—short and to the point—and yet to Solomon they fell like a hammer of doom. “So,” he said to Nathan, “Jeroboam is the man. If Beniah had killed him I would have known to look for someone else.”
Nathan had heard of Solomon’s fateful encounter in the temple and he had found little comfort to give him. It was painful to watch the depression that came down over him like a dark shadow. “All my work, everything I’ve done means nothing. A fool will inherit my throne, my palace, my temple. An ambitious builder will be given most of my kingdom. The riches I have amassed will do nothing for my people but attract thieves and robbers like the pharaoh. How could things have gone so wrong?”
“You mustn’t imagine that the bad erases the good. The beauty you have brought to all of us can never be destroyed. The glory you have given Israel will be talked about for generations.”
“But Nathan, I started with so much promise and will end so infamously. Where did I go wrong? I know the foreign wives I married and their temples have been like spittle in God’s face. But with them I’ve kept peace. It’s not easy to be wise and be king.”
They sat in silence so profound that neither of them noticed Solomon’s pet hedgehog that edged out from behind one of the cushions and began to tiptoe across the carpet toward the tray of sweets. Nathan saw him first and was startled. “What’s that animal doing in here?” he asked.
“I’m seeing if I can make friends with him,” Solomon said. “He’s quite a clever fellow. Causes no disturbance and will eat insects and spiders.”
“Have you tamed him?” Nathan asked.
“I haven’t learned his ways yet. But sometimes if I sit very still he watches me out of his beady little eyes as though trying to decide whether he’ll let me stay or get rid of me.”
Nathan laughed. “How you have time for all these animals I don’t understand. What interests you about them?”
Solomon held out his hand and the small barbed animal edged forward and then back as though trying to decide whether it was safe to trust this giant being that was trying to enter his small world. “Have you no curiosity, Nathan? God made all these little creatures. They’re all constructed differently—and no matter how we try we can’t make anything like them. I can build with stone and wood, gold and silver, but can’t make even a flea.”
Nathan was impressed. “Just as a man loves to have his work admired, I’m sure it must please our God to have His small masterpieces noticed.”
Just as quickly as he had been diverted by the little hedgehog so now he became morose again. “I wonder how far Jeroboam has gotten. Do you imagine he is sleeping right this moment on some rock and seeing visions like our ancester Jacob?”
“Solomon, you mustn’t let this thing poison your life. It’s draining you of all the good things that are still yours.”
“I see no good things. I see only failure and I don’t know why I’ve failed. I tried so hard.”
“You may as well go on and say it. You’re angry at God. You’re almost afraid to think it, but you can’t see that He’s been fair. Am I right?”
Solomon didn’t answer, but Nathan could tell by the quick way he turned away and concentrated on the billowing cloth of the ceiling that he had hit the root of the problem. “You can’t even bring yourself to say it, but you’re thinking that you’ve never committed adultery like our father, you’ve never had a man killed to gratify your own selfish lust like our father. You’ve obeyed most of the law scrupulously and asked forgiveness and made the proper sacrifices when you did wrong. Most of all you did the one thing God commissioned you to do—you built a temple for His name. And such a temple you have built. He need never be embarrassed by some idol’s having a grander dwelling.”
“Yes, I have tried so hard, and yet He holds against me my foreign wives and the small temples they’ve built. I’ve never put another god before Him. He’s always been first.”
“And I’m right that you’ve been puzzled by these things.”
Solomon didn’t answer but seemed to be watching as the little hedgehog
burrowed again under the nearby cushion and disappeared.
“Look,” Nathan said, “perhaps it’s a bit like you and the hedgehog. You hold out your hand and are delighted when the little creature trusts you enough to come toward you. If he would actually trust you enough to come eat from your hand, you’d be ecstatic. Am I right?”
“I don’t see …”
“Maybe God is like you with the hedgehog. He treasures most of all our responding to Him.”
Solomon was very quiet. The lamps flickered and the incense grew almost oppressive. Finally he turned as though dismissing all such serious thoughts and lightly said, “You mean I’ve been so busy doing things for Him I don’t even know who He is anymore.”
“Something like that,” Nathan said.
The spell was broken and Solomon stood up. “Right at this moment the queen of Sheba could be deciding our fate. If she joins Hadad and Shishak, it would be a very strong, unbeatable combination.”
“That ‘if’ makes all the difference.”
“The way things are going, I have no illusions. This could be the end of everything.”
“On the other hand it could be the beginning of a new start, a new opportunity.”
Solomon reached out and hugged his brother. “I need large doses of your optimism,” he said. “These days I’m inclined to see the dark side, the hopelessness of everything.”
The two left together, and when they parted at the base of the marble steps, Nathan noticed that his brother walked with his head held high and a hint of the old debonair spirit that made him such a magnetic personality.
B
iqis paced the cold stone floor of Hadad’s winter quarters. She realized she was in serious trouble. It was increasingly obvious that she should have known better than to have been enticed into the Edomites’ stronghold. She hadn’t seen any danger until it was too late. She had made a mistake in thinking that by leaving most of her men outside, Hadad wouldn’t dare pressure her in any way. However, there was no way she could have known the nature of the secret entryway into this rockbound kingdom.
She went over and over again in her mind every aspect of the situation from the very beginning. Haded was such a dashing, attractive ruler. He was every bit a desert prince, and yet he had all the polish of Egypt. He had been raised there and even his speech had an Egyptian flavor to it.
He also had adopted some of the charming ways of the Egyptians. She had first been impressed by the riders he had sent on a full day’s journey into the desert to escort her to his palace. When they had come to the Siq, a long, narrow cleft between high rock cliffs that led into his fortress, it had seemed perfectly natural to ride in as the prince suggested. This cleft was just wide enough for donkeys or camels to go through single file and it was easily defended by a few men.
Once in the Siq she was made uneasy by the hawks and ravens that dove and swooped overhead emitting their incessant screams that echoed and bounded off the walls of the passageway like voices of doom. She experienced further alarm when she realized how long the Siq was and how much time it took to go from one end to the other. Then finally, when she came out into the valley itself and discovered that it too was surrounded by high cliffs of red rock, she was convinced she had made a serious mistake.
She tried to reassure herself that everything was all right since she had left most of her army and wares outside, taking with her only her own personal bodyguards, serving maids, and retainers as well as her cousin,
Rydan. She had thought it best to separate Il Hamd and Rydan lest they plot against her while she was gone.
How could she have guessed that Hadad cared nothing for her treasures, and was instead obsessed with forcing her to join the confederation against Solomon. Still worse, on seeing her he had quickly revised his plans to include marrying her and keeping her right here in this fortress as his ally.
By the time she understood Hadad’s plans and the nature of the rockbound city he ruled, it was too late. There was no way out and no way her men could rescue her.