Love’s Sacred Song (41 page)

She snuggled close. “But there’s more,” she said. Growing quiet, she hoped his heart would receive the next lesson as readily. “At first I hated the thought of my scars and crippled leg,” she said. “But now I see that my lasting wounds make me like this seal. I’m always leaning on your arm as the seal is constantly around your neck. Wherever we go, I’m sort of a permanent attachment, like this leather necklace and your seal.”

He pulled her closer, resting his chin on her head. She heard a sob, felt his chest heave. “Oh, beloved. Yes. This is a picture of our love that I can carry with me always. I hate that you bear these scars, but it is with deep honor that I will forever be at your side.”

She kissed him and held his gaze. “How would you feel if someone stole your seal or offered you great treasure for it?”

He smiled a forbearing smile as if to say,
Our lesson isn’t over?
“I would never relinquish my seal. It is mine and only mine until the day I die.”

Settling into his side, she said, “The love of which we speak is like your seal—as strong and lasting as death, and my jealousy is as unyielding as the grave. Even a river can’t wash away the blazing fire of love in my soul.” She lifted her head and cupped his cheek. “I will never joyfully share you with other wives. But I can accept my place in your heart if I know I am forever sealed with your love.”

He gazed at her for a long moment, the crowd outside growing in noise and number. Too soon the carriage stopped at the palace entrance, jostling back and forth, while the stallions jittered at the crowd noise. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, “Always with me,” and then he returned to the bench on the opposite side of the coach, awaiting Benaiah’s arrival.

The rest of the royal procession continued to the stables and storehouses, and finally the commander opened the carriage door. “The people await your greeting, my lord.”

Arielah wiped her eyes. Solomon leaned over and brushed her cheek, inhaled deeply, and affixed his regal smile. When he emerged from their canopy of serenity, a cheer rose, sounding as if all of Jerusalem had gathered to celebrate the long-awaited arrival of its wandering king.

Arielah heard only their incoherent rumblings, her attention completely captured by her strong yet tender husband. Solomon whisked her into his arms and twirled her around, sheer linen veils encircling them. “Solomon, put me down!” She giggled, and his laughter boomed over the jubilant crowd.

She could feel her cheeks grow pink. Solomon must have noticed too, because he set her down gently and asked, “Ready for our first battle, beloved?” She nodded, and he lifted his voice above the noise. “People of Jerusalem, your treaty bride has returned.” Another cheer, and Solomon lifted his hands to quiet the crowd. “As most of you know, Queen Arielah was brutally attacked in the City of David. We have found only one man willing to testify against those responsible for planning and carrying out the assault. But we must have two male witnesses in Israel’s court to condemn a criminal to death.” Chatter fluttered across the crowd, and the Mighty Men formed a barrier between the audience and the royal couple. Solomon stepped between them, focusing on a few men in the front rows and some guards near the entrance hall. “If any man here is willing to serve as second witness, please register with my palace steward in order to testify at the public hearing in the throne hall after midday.”

Arielah’s heart thundered as Solomon returned and brushed her cheek. “May I carry you, beloved? I need to feel you in my arms.”

She nodded her quick approval, and he swept her up as if she weighed nothing at all. Stirred by his wisdom and strength, she whispered, “It would appear you’re quite a warrior, my love. Perhaps you should assign yourself Benaiah’s job.”

He chuckled softly. “My love is a sharp sword,” he said with a playful wink. Solomon kissed her forehead and turned to enter the palace.

“Long live King Solomon!” someone cried, and the crowd erupted in applause.

Solomon turned back to their audience, and Arielah saw a young woman shout, “And blessed be Queen Arielah!”

Her heart was overwhelmed. The dark prospects of sharing her husband and the political battles with the Sons of Judah had almost snuffed out her hope.

“Wave to your people, my treaty bride,” Solomon said. “They are Judean, but perhaps there are many who remain true Israelites.”

She waved and warmed to the people of Jerusalem, feeling like their queen for the first time. Solomon resumed his march up the stairs while Benaiah followed closely behind them. When Solomon reached the palace entrance, Arielah noticed the one-eyed guard she’d slipped past on the night of her beating. He stood beside a scribe, a pleasant-looking man with ink-stained fingers. Both men were startled from a traditional bow when King Solomon stopped beside them.

“Mahlon, please rise,” the king said, still holding Arielah like a roll of tethered wheat.

Arielah pondered the name.
Mahlon . . . where have I heard that?
Suddenly she remembered. Mahlon was the scribe Ahishar had tortured—Elisheba’s friend who had been like an abba to Reu!

She watched a terrified glance pass between the scribe and the one-eyed guard. Mahlon raised an eyebrow, and the guard spoke. “How may we serve you, my king?”

Solomon chuckled, no doubt as amazed as Arielah that two men could communicate as one. “Mahlon, I’ve been told of the terrible wrong Ahishar did to you, and I’m sorry you suffered at the hands of someone I trusted.”

The scribe stared wide-eyed and then uttered some unintelligible sounds to the guard. “Mahlon says, ‘Thank you, my lord. Your kindness is enough of a gift.’” Both the guard and Mahlon bowed as one.

“The small honor I give you now cannot atone for the wrong, but I hope it brings you—and Elisheba—great joy.” Arielah’s heart skipped a beat, and she could barely contain a squeal. Solomon grinned in her direction before sharing the news with the waiting scribe. “You, Mahlon, will be the bearer of happy news to Reu’s ima. Please tell her that Reu has served his king well and will soon marry Queen Arielah’s young maid. Furthermore, I have entrusted Reu with the position of vinedresser at my vineyard in Baal Hamon. Elisheba and her guests will travel by royal escort to her son’s wedding in Shunem after the next Passover.”

Arielah had never seen a mute man rejoice, but the sight was one of the happiest she’d ever witnessed. Solomon’s laughter echoed in the hallways of the palace as they resumed their journey toward his private chambers. Arielah breathed a contented sigh and nestled her head against his shoulder, enjoying these few moments of calm before the battle turned to war.

•
 Song of Solomon 8:8 
•

[Friends] We have a young sister, and her breasts are not yet grown. What shall we do for our sister?

S
olomon stopped outside his chambers, examining the soldiers stationed at his double doors. Though their training dictated unflinching posture, their furrowed brows revealed curiosity. “You are members of Benaiah’s Pelethite guard, are you not?” Solomon asked, though Benaiah stood directly behind him, leading a number of other Mighty Men.

The men saluted, fist to heart. “Yes, my king,” they said in unison.

“And you are lifetime warriors, having protected my abba before me?”

“Yes, my king.”

Nodding to Arielah, who lay with her head on his shoulder, he said, “You will now guard Queen Arielah with the same loyalty that you showed my abba and with which you protect me.”

They hesitated, glancing to their commander for direction. No king’s guard had ever been asked to guard a queen. Benaiah issued an almost imperceptible nod.

“Understood?” Solomon shouted.

“Yes, my king!”

Benaiah leaned down to whisper, “You are a wise man, King Solomon. These are two of my best men.” The approval in his friend’s voice bolstered his confidence.

“I hold you two personally responsible for Queen Arielah’s safety. One of you is to be aware of her presence at every moment of every day. Only your commander or myself may gain an audience alone with her, and she is to be escorted any time she leaves my chamber. Questions?”

The Pelethites exchanged a glance, and one man ventured a grin. “May I say”—he offered a quick bow—“we are pleased to welcome the queen and guard her with our lives.” Both guards returned to their solemnity, saluted their king, and opened the double doors.

“Welcome home, my king.” Sekhet’s wry grin would normally have lightened his mood, but at the moment his concern was Arielah. She seemed to be wilting like a flower without water.

Lifting her head off his shoulder, Arielah greeted the Egyptian. “Shalom, Sekhet.”

“What has happened to her?” Sekhet asked, nearly leaping off the couch where she’d been sitting. “Lay her on the bed.” Gently Solomon placed Arielah on his sleeping couch. “What did you do to her?” Sekhet glared at him and swatted his arm.

He was too amazed to be offended. The Egyptian’s tender care for Arielah was endearing, and he watched in wonder as his wives enjoyed their reunion. He had no idea of the depth of their friendship forged during Arielah’s recovery.
Jehovah, Your ways are unfathomable.

“I’m all right, Sekhet,” Arielah said. “Just tired from our wonderful trip to Baal Hamon.”

“Yes, Solomon said you were—”

“Excuse me,” Solomon said. Both women glared as if begrudging the interruption. He chuckled. “Could you two catch up after we . . . ?” Turning to Benaiah, he nodded his silent command, and his top soldier began selectively clearing the chamber.

When the chamber door clicked shut, Sekhet’s Nubian guards surrounded Solomon and Benaiah. The king’s heart nearly pounded from his chest, anticipating the answer upon which all their hopes rested. Inspecting the massive black warriors, Solomon asked Sekhet, “Do your Nubians understand only Egyptian, or do they also speak Hebrew?”

The king sat silently on his throne, his expression cool, his gaze fixed. Arielah glanced at him, trying to appear as strong as her husband, when inwardly she longed for nothing more than a quiet nap in a sunny meadow. Appraising the throne hall’s exclusively female audience, she leaned over to whisper, “This may be the first time the aroma of cedar has been overpowered by lotions and perfumes.” Shiphrah and Sherah had fallen into Solomon’s trap. His plea for public
male
witnesses had prompted them to fill the throne hall with both royal harems.

Solomon stifled a grin, maintaining his regal bearing. “It seems the only royal wife missing from Abba’s harem or mine is Ima Bathsheba. So far, it’s the only move in our real-life Hounds and Jackals that I didn’t anticipate.” The rest of the wives and concubines were present—David’s harem lined the left side of the aisle, and Solomon’s women waited on the right.

Elihoreph’s shrill voice interrupted Arielah’s observations. “Seeking justice from King Solomon’s court, Shiphrah and Sherah, the Daughters of Jerusalem.” All eyes turned to the entryway between the courtyard and the throne hall, the portal through which royalty entered.

Solomon’s eyes narrowed, and he gripped Arielah’s left hand too tightly. “Gently, my love,” she said, grimacing. His expression showed a moment’s panic. “Remember God’s wisdom. Remember your plan.”

“But this isn’t part of—”

Looking into his eyes, she said, “The Daughters may have surprised us, but they didn’t surprise the Lord. He is the source of your wisdom.” She watched peace return to his features, like a feather settles after a slight breeze.

While the Daughters of Jerusalem entered, Solomon challenged his steward privately. “I declared only one matter to judge in court today. By allowing the Daughters of Jerusalem to add to your list of petitioners”—he looked directly into the man’s wide eyes—“you have placed yourself at the top of my new investigation list, steward.”

Elihoreph stuttered, hesitated, gulped, and tried to explain. “But Shiphrah and Sherah said—”

Solomon held up a hand to silence him. “I will deal with you later.”

Shiphrah and Sherah floated toward the throne, their fine linen robes of better quality than any queen. Each offered a perfunctory bow at King Solomon’s throne before Shiphrah spoke. “We bring a matter of national importance, my lord.”

Solomon’s face was like stone, but Arielah noticed his cheeks flush. “Get on with it, Shiphrah.”

Shiphrah smiled coldly. “We represent the wives who stand before you, each of them lodging the same complaint. Before this shepherdess came into the palace,” she said, casting a disparaging glance at Arielah, “you followed the wise custom of King David and other powerful kings by establishing your household with a growing harem.”

When she took a breath to continue, Sherah forged ahead with the complaint. “My sister and I have been pleased to manage the king’s household, aiding your foreign alliances by embracing your foreign wives.”

“However . . .” Shiphrah wrenched the attention from her sister. “It has come to our attention that the woman seated on your right intends to reclaim her position as your only wife.” A ripple of discontent spread through the royal women.

Solomon’s expression remained dismissive. “Is anything else bothering you, Shiphrah? Is your chamber too small or the mikvah baths too cool?” His condescension stoked her ire.

“Yes, now that you offer me a hearing,” she said, her voice rising, “we have young Judean maidens that are as flat as walls right now, not as round as your Shulammite wife has become.” She raised an eyebrow, pointing at Arielah’s stomach. “You’ve married plenty of foreign women, but what should we tell Judean girls who dream of someday being the king’s wife?”

Solomon began to laugh, further fueling her tirade.

“If our Judean women lack beauty, we’ll cover them with silver and jewels. We’ll even enclose them in cedar panels if you want them to
smell
like your northern shepherdess.”

Solomon slammed his hand down on the lion’s-head armrest, his laughter ceasing.

Arielah reached for his hand, calming him. She leaned close. “This is not our battle, my love. May I address her complaint?”

He looked into her eyes, a nod his only response, his lips pressed tightly in barely contained fury.

Arielah was filled with a calm like she’d never known. “Shiphrah,
I
am a wall, strong and enduring. And I’ve become ‘round,’ as you call it, because I will soon bear the king’s child.”

The crowd hummed at the news that her loose-fitting robe had evidently hidden.

“Some kings strive endlessly to rule a nation and gain power. Solomon’s heart now rests in the contentment of my love and Jehovah’s power.” Turning toward David’s wives and concubines, she raised her voice to be heard. “Do you remember the difference in the days of King David’s peace and the days of his striving?”

Some of the older women nodded their affirmation.

The grand doors of the entrance hall burst open, and Bathsheba stood at the threshold. Utter silence ushered her forward, and the crowd parted as she approached the Daughters of Jerusalem. “When a king’s heart is marred by sin, he cannot rule his nation well.” Taking her place among David’s other wives, she added, “But when a king is at peace with Jehovah and finds contentment in the arms of a woman he loves, Israel flourishes under his reign.”

Sherah’s voice crescendoed. “But we were chosen to manage the harem! We were to determine whom he favored!” Her tantrum was interrupted by Benaiah’s sudden appearance at the entrance hall doors. He and Hezro led Oliab between them.

Solomon waved away the Daughters of Jerusalem. “Shiphrah and Sherah, I find your complaints tiresome and without merit. Queen Arielah is one of my treaty brides, and I will honor the vows I have made to her.” Then looking across the anxious faces of his other wives, he added, “And I will fulfill my vow to produce an heir for each of my other treaty brides—as God allows.”

Whispers rippled over the audience, and Arielah would have found Solomon’s disclosure utterly humiliating had the courtroom been filled with men. But as she looked into the grateful tears of other women, those who undoubtedly longed for a child, she placed a protective hand on her belly and thanked Jehovah for an honorable king.

Two Cherethite guards reached for the Daughters of Jerusalem to escort them aside, but both women issued deadly stares and stepped nobly to the right of the platform.

Benaiah reached the dais with his prisoner, and Arielah could barely breathe. She knew this moment was coming. Solomon had reviewed the plan with her, and Oliab would admit his crime before the throne. She had been coached to act terrified. How could she have guessed the terror would be real?

Her whole body trembled uncontrollably. “It’s him. It’s one of the men who beat me that night.” Tears sprang to her eyes.

Benaiah exchanged a concerned glance with Solomon. “I bring before you Oliab, a watchman of Israel,” Benaiah said, his voice echoing off the walls. “He comes to confess his crimes against Queen Arielah.”

She felt Solomon’s hand begin to tremble beside hers. His anger, like her fear, did not seem rehearsed. “Look at my wife,” he growled at the man who bowed before them. “Lift your head and look at what you’ve done.”

Arielah felt every eye in the courtroom examining her scars.

When Oliab lifted his head, he appeared broken, his words seeming sincere and humble. “The Daughters of Jerusalem paid me and three other watchmen to punish . . . to beat . . . Queen Arielah.” His voice broke.

Then he turned to Arielah, startling her. She wanted to flee, to run, but his eyes—they were different. Sad. Defeated.

“I can’t forget how your face glowed with peace,” he said. “Even when Sherah spit on you, my lady.” His face twisted with emotion. “I hate what I have done to you, but I’m thankful for seeing Jehovah in your eyes, my lady.” A sob escaped, and he raised his shackled hands to hide his shame.

“This is ridiculous!” Shiphrah cried. “He is trying to discredit us before the king and the women of his harem, whom we hold dear.” Sherah, chin held high, nodded her agreement.

Solomon, maintaining a semblance of calm, appealed to the audience. “Who in this courtroom will testify to the truth of this man’s actions?”

“No one can testify,” Sherah interrupted. “Even if we were guilty, which we’re not”—she received a leering reprimand from her sister—“there are no men present to testify.”

“Yes, I see that somehow only women—royal women—have found their way into my courtroom,” Solomon said, pointing to the crowd. He gasped, and then with mock surprise, he said, “But wait! Who is that in back?”

Holding back a grin at his poorly feigned shock, Arielah watched the twins’ heads snap to attention. “Who? No one.” Shiphrah answered her rhetorical question. “Only royal women and harem guards are present.” She undoubtedly knew best whom she and Sherah had invited to the hearing.