Wisdom's Daughter: A Novel of Solomon and Sheba (18 page)

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Authors: India Edghill

BOOK: Wisdom's Daughter: A Novel of Solomon and Sheba
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Better Than Rubies
All my tomorrows began in a palace garden where Prince Solomon awaited me. Bright as the sun, beautiful as morning, he looked into my waiting eyes; desire curled, fire-hot, honey-sweet, beneath my skin.
“I have seen you before,” he said, and I nodded.
“Yes. Long ago, in Mahanaim.”
That was all; he held out his hand and I took it, sliding my fingers over his palm, entwining my fingers with his in a lovers’ knot.
“This summer seems endless, does it not?” Amyntor turned query into jest, his habit when no answer was sought. Solomon smiled in dutiful acknowledgment, and looked out over the dry gold of the hills.
“The winter was long and summer has barely begun; it will grow hotter soon. And soon after that the year will turn, and then all will once more bewail the length of winter’s days.” Solomon himself no longer cared if the days were summer-long, or winter-short. He cared only that each task be done properly, in its proper season.
That is the way to peace; that is the course of wisdom.
“You’re thinking again, my lord king, and not of pleasant things. It’s an unhealthy habit. You’d think a man with forty wives, one of them still hot as a new-wed bride, could summon up a pleasant image or two while he muses upon the housetop.”
“Ah, but I was not thinking of my wives, even of the newest.”
“You ought to, my lord king, before they stop thinking of you. Even,” Amyntor added, “the newest. Those girls from world’s end burn all the hotter for their land’s chill.”
“I do think of my wives—but not just now.” Now, for this shining hour, Solomon wished only to enjoy the sun, and the company of a man whose heaviest word drifted like a feather upon the air, and whose darkest mood gleamed noonday bright. Nothing weighed leaden upon Amyntor; his easy company was anodyne to a king clutched at by men who demanded his wisdom and women who desired his favor. That Amyntor was a foreigner only added to the attraction of his company, for he neither petitioned nor demanded. With Amyntor, he could sometimes be only Solomon, rather than King Solomon the Wise.
“You’re thinking again, O King. Trouble in the harem?”
Now Solomon smiled in earnest. “May a king have no other matters that trouble him, save women?”
“None so amusing.” Amyntor sat upon the wall guarding the balcony; he drew one leg up and clasped his hands about his knee. “Very well, then—trouble with that unwashed wandering seer of yours?”
Again Solomon denied truth to Amyntor’s guess. Nor did he lie in doing so. An uneasy heart was not trouble.
No, there is no trouble—none save that within my own mind.
For all Ahijah’s dire prophecies of the Lord’s wrath, for all Solomon’s wives’ bitter complaints, the princess from Colchis had entered effortlessly into the life of the women’s palace, her foreign customs no stranger than any others. But Solomon found himself uneasy, these long summer days, an unease that he laid at the Lady Dacxuri’s gate. Not that his newest bride performed evil rites, nor that she defied him, for she did not.
Yet my other wives fear her and complain of her—and for no reason.
No reason, save that the Lady Dacxuri was the newest come of the king’s wives, and her place in the women’s world had not yet become a settled thing. Solomon had done his best, but what lay beyond the Queens’ Gate was as strange to him as if passing through the jeweled cedar panels took him into a faraway land, a land in which the laws of men counted for nothing.
Once it had not been so; once to walk through the cedar gate had been to walk into his beloved’s arms. But that day’s sun had set long years ago—
So long ago, so many years, that Abishag’s daughter has grown old enough to marry in her turn.
As always, the thought grieved him, although his daughter’s marriage was inevitable; a girl’s fate was to marry, and a princess’s fate was to marry for policy.
Sometimes Solomon toyed with the idea of offering Baalit’s hand in marriage to his good friend Amyntor. A royal bond might tether the Caphtoran to Israel’s side. Or it might not; Amyntor had a roving heart. He might refuse to wed the king’s daughter, which would be a great insult. Or he might marry Baalit and try to carry her off with him when he grew tired of the feel of Jerusalem’s streets beneath his feet. Neither course pleased Solomon—nor would wedding Baalit to Amyntor bring any advantage for the kingdom.
Only for the king. And that is not reason enough.
“Very well, my lord the king is not troubled. Still he frowns, and on such a day, too.”
Again Solomon summoned a smile. “Ah, well, I confess that I, too, find the summer’s days stretch long. The land is quiet, the people at peace—”
“—and the king is bored,” Amyntor finished, and Solomon laughed.
But even as he laughed, Solomon heard again Nefret’s calm assertion that he suffered from boredom. Now Amyntor made the same claim.
Is it so plain to others that I find life dull? How dare I, with all the world at my command, admit to that sin?
“Not so bad as that, but I admit a diversion would be pleasant.”
As if summoned by the king’s words, a palace servant emerged from the shadowed room that faced upon the king’s balcony and came forward, bowing low before Solomon. “Rise,” said the king, forcing himself to smile at the waiting servant, “rise and speak.”
“O King, the watchtower sends word that a royal messenger has entered the city in haste, with word for the king’s ears.”
Solomon nodded. “Tell my Great Officers of the Court to await me by the Lion Throne.”
“It shall be done as the king says.” The servant padded swiftly off, and Solomon permitted himself to sigh at last.
Amyntor shook his head. “You are too indulgent, King Solomon. The king should bid his royal messenger to attend him here—at your convenience rather than at his.”
“Perhaps, but men who labor diligently deserve reward. It pleases them
to be received in all honor and glory by the king. And a wise king pleases his servants and his subjects when he can.”
 
 
By the time the royal messenger had finally passed through the palace gate itself, Solomon sat upon the throne awaiting him, and the Great Officers of the Court—those who were not engaged elsewhere—stood arrayed at the king’s right hand. Amyntor stood by the king’s left hand, and of all those who attended upon Solomon, only Amyntor seemed truly at ease.
Even now, my people have not grown into empire. I wonder how many kings, how many generations of men, are required to turn tribes to nations?
The circle of hammered gold pressed heavy about his temples; the lion-headed scepter lay across his knees. When the royal messenger ran into the court, he would see King Solomon arrayed gloriously, awaiting the messenger and his words.
He had judged the time well; before the officials could grow restive—
and begin grumbling that they have important tasks to attend to and no time to waste!
—the sound of bare feet slapping against marble heralded the messenger’s arrival. The man burst from the shadowed pillars and ran arrow-straight up the court to fling himself to his knees before the Lion Throne.
“Speak.” Solomon smiled, gravely, and awaited the urgent news.
“O King, live forever; I bear greetings from the Lord Esau, the king’s governor at Ezion-geber, to King Solomon the Wise. I bear greetings from Hodaiah, captain of the Tarshish fleet. Here are the captain’s words: The Tarshish ship has returned, O King—and they have brought with them—”
“Stop.” The messenger was so out of breath Solomon found it hard to understand the gasped words. He looked hard at the messenger and sighed. “Come, man, catch your breath; take a cup of wine. The news cannot be so urgent you must kill yourself to bring it.”
The system of royal couriers worked well; its only fault lay in the overzealous nature of the runners, who prided themselves on their speed. Each message thus became, for a time at least, tidings vital and urgent.
With a peculiar mixture of gratitude and irritation, the royal messenger accepted wine. “O King—” he began, and Solomon lifted his hand.
“I will not hear one word until you no longer gulp air like a beached eel. Wait; your tidings will keep for a wine cup.”
Solomon waited, patient, as the man gulped the wine and wiped his mouth. Then he smiled and said, “That is better; now say the captain’s words to me.”
Finally permitted to deliver his news, the messenger straightened. “O King, Hodaiah, Captain of the Tarshish fleet, sends King Solomon this news: The fleet has returned from the lands of the south bearing ivory, and spices, and gold, and many other treasures—these things, and more, all sent as gifts by the Queen of the Spice Land to King Solomon. And the queen herself has come as well, to see with her own eyes the glories of the kingdom of Israel, and to hear with her own ears the wisdom of King Solomon, and to bear witness of both back to her own land of Sheba.”
Solomon stared, surprised as he had seldom been. “The Queen of Sheba has come here? To our kingdom?”
“Yes, O King—sailed north with the Tarshish fleet.” Satisfied with the king’s reception of his news, the messenger stood proudly, awaiting further queries.
The Spice Queen, come half a world to my court? Now, why?
Solomon had sent his envoys to faraway Sheba in hope of yet another alliance to aid his fast-growing kingdom—this royal response surpassed even his wildest imaginings of the outcome of that visit.
Has the King of Sheba sent his wife as ambassador? Or as gift?
A puzzle redolent of intrigue and spice; the dull boredom Solomon labored under vanished like mist under strong sun.
“Where is the Sheban queen now?” Sheba—the Spice Kingdom, fabled for its incense—and for the wild tales travelers told of the Morning Land.
Now I shall learn their truth.
“She and all her attendants wait at Ezion-geber, O King.”
The port city of Ezion-geber was Israel’s outlet to the southern world and its riches. Copper and iron were mined nearby; Ezion-geber smelted metal as well as expediting trade.
Can Sheba think to spy upon our mines and foundries? To what end?
Perhaps Sheba wished to acquire the source of such riches to add to its own and sought to study the defenses there. Perhaps the queen herself had been sent to conceal the true purpose of the visit. Perhaps—
Perhaps I should stop wasting my own time; I can know nothing of Sheba’s purpose until I speak with the queen.
Suddenly restless, Solomon rose to his feet.
“Well done,” he told the messenger in clear tones that carried well through the great court. The man smiled, gratified, and Solomon instructed Ahishar, the chief steward, to see that the diligent messenger was rewarded.
Then Solomon turned to Zadok. “Well, High Priest? What do you think of this news?”
“It is very strange,” Zadok said with ponderous deliberation, “for Sheba lies very far to the south. Still, Solomon’s wisdom is far-famed; perhaps this Sheban queen truly seeks to learn from you.”
Zadok, you have become a true courtier, saying yes and no with the same breath.
Solomon smiled. “Perhaps she does,” he said.
But I doubt it,
he finished silently, and listened as his officials argued over whether the king should or should not permit the unexpected queen to come before him.
“Strange women cannot be trusted; suppose she wishes harm to our king?” “Folly—but doubtless she hopes to trick him into a favorable alliance. Trade with Sheba comes at a high price.” “Perhaps she is not the queen at all but a spy sent to learn our king’s secrets.”
At that, Solomon lifted his hand. “Enough,” he said and glanced at Amyntor, who raised his eyebrows.
“The Queen of Sheba sounds promising,” said the Caphtoran. “Perhaps your god has heard and granted your prayer after all.”
Solomon smiled. “Nothing can be known until I see this woman and hear her voice with my own ears. I will journey to Ezion-geber to greet her and make her welcome in our land.”
“You cannot risk it, my king—this may be a trap,” Elihoreph said, and at the chief scribe’s solemn words, Solomon laughed.
“A fine trap, to come into my own kingdom and place herself in my power!”
“A subtle trap; women are subtle as the serpent.” Elihoreph scowled, and Solomon nodded, grave; it would not do to wound the chief scribe’s touchy pride.
“True; like the serpent, women are lovely, subtle, and wise. All the more reason to confront a woman who is also a queen far from King David’s City. The king’s thanks for a timely warning.”
Elihoreph bowed, mollified for the moment; Solomon resolutely refused to glance to his left.
For if I meet Amyntor’s eyes, I shall laugh again—
And no wise king humbled his servants before others.
“I have heard your words,” Solomon said. “Now hear mine. I shall go to Ezion-geber to welcome the Queen of Sheba to my kingdom. She is a royal guest; we must treat her royally.”
Zadok frowned, and slowly shook his head. “I must protest, O King. It does not befit your dignity to go to meet this foreign woman—”
You mean it does not befit your comfort to travel a dozen steps beyond the city gate!
But rather than chide the old man, Solomon merely smiled. “Whatever a king does befits his dignity, Zadok. But do not worry; I shall not insist my high priest accompany me!”
“Of course I am at the king’s command,” Zadok said—but he did not argue further.
Lest I change my mind and bid him come after all.
Solomon resisted the temptation to jest further with the high priest.
Rest easy, Zadok; I shall not need a priest to help me greet this wandering queen.

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