Queen of Sheba (22 page)

Tipti threw back her head and laughed a hard, brittle laugh. “Is that the only problem? We can easily remedy that.”

“I don’t understand.” Jeroboam was astounded. He had expected her to be as discouraged as he was.

“My son,” she said lightly touching his arm with the tips of her jeweled fingers. “The God who dwells in Solomon’s temple isn’t very attractive to most people. In Egypt, given a choice, no one would choose to worship such a god.”

“But …”

“No, no, don’t say anything until I explain. This God your people worship does nothing for the farmer who wants rain or the young man who wants sex and love or the wife who wants a charm against her husband’s new love. Your God fills none of the needs of ordinary people. Now if you brought up from Egypt the golden calf once worshiped by your people …”

Jeroboam was horrified at the suggestion. “That was the great sin of my people. The golden calf was evil.”

“That’s what you were told by your priests. In Egypt the Apis or Mnevis bull is even more powerful than Bastet or Mihos. In his temples they have dancing girls and lovely festivals where a magic potion made from a grain called ergot releases the worshiper from all his inhibitions, and only enjoyment is important.”

“But in Israel all of this is a great sin and wouldn’t be accepted.”

Tipti held some large dried dates on a golden plate. Now she picked
up one with her own jeweled fingers and laughing held it up to Jeroboam’s mouth. “Is all pleasure then a sin here in Israel?”

Blushing at such familiarity he bit into the date and almost choked. “We take pleasure within limits. It’s forbidden to use the plant ergot or worship idols,” he stammered.

Tipti licked the stickiness of the dates from her fingers. “Why should it not be possible to give your people the advantage of worshiping both the God of Israel and the Apis bull? And as for the ergot, it grows with the rye quite naturally. It gives such lovely dreams and visions. One becomes like a god. Had you thought of that?”

“How could I convince the people?”

“You say your God created everything, but you worship him in a very narrow fashion. How much better it would be if you let the Apis bull represent also your God Jehovah. Then plant the ergot so your priests will have visions and …”

Jeroboam was horrified at the suggestion. He didn’t know what was really wrong with it. He just knew the worship of the golden calf in the wilderness had been one of the greatest sins Israel ever committed. The ergot was dangerous too. Some pagan priests had died after taking too much.

Tipti saw the look of horror on his face and quickly brought up her most convincing argument. “My lord Solomon has permitted a shrine for the bull on Olivet along with shrines to other foreign gods. He has even secretly taken the ergot and found it to bring most pleasant dreams. He sees no harm in it at all.”

Just as she had thought, Jeroboam was impressed.

“You think then that I need not worry about the loss of Jerusalem.”

“Of course not. Let the tribes of Judah and Benjamin keep their harsh God and gaudy temple if it comes to that. You can give the people something easier to understand and enjoy.”

“What about the coalition? If the queen of Sheba doesn’t join, what will happen then?”

“Then our plans will have to wait. But hopefully this won’t happen. It’s to her advantage to join with Egypt and Egypt’s friends against Solomon.”

Jeroboam sat thinking of all she had said and trying to piece together
the various aspects of her plan. Tipti seemed to be preoccupied with sipping from her goblet of choice wine, but all the time she was watching him to determine his reaction to what she had said. She noted that while at first he had been resistant to many of her suggestions, now he seemed thoughtful and accepting. “It’s just a matter of time,” she thought, “and he’ll agree with me completely.”

Both Tipti and Jeroboam had been so engrossed in their conversation that neither had noticed that one of the serving women who seemed most anxious to be helpful was also listening to everything that was said. This woman, though dark haired and dressed exactly like the other Egyptian handmaidens, was actually a Hebrew and a gift from Solomon’s mother, Bathsheba. She had not heard everything, but she had heard enough to gather that a plot was afoot to place Jeroboam on the throne either by deposing Solomon or waiting to edge out Rehoboam, the heir. She began to devise a plan whereby she could see Bathsheba and warn her of the alliance between Tipti and Jeroboam and the plans they were making.

When Bathsheba heard of Jeroboam’s visit to the Egyptian princess, she was upset. But when she learned that he had been served dinner alone as though he were Solomon himself, she was furious. She dropped the balls of wool she was carding and struggled to her feet. “Solomon must know this at once. The punishment is death for such an affront to the crown.”

“My queen.” The young maid was on her knees clutching the hem of Bathsheba’s robe. “There is more. I’ve only told you the circumstance not the news.”

Bathsheba turned and looked at the girl in alarm. “News, what news could you possibly have that is worse than what you’ve already told me?”

“My queen, the Egyptian has plans to put Jeroboam on the throne of Israel as her son and heir.”

At this disturbing revelation Bathsheba drew the young maid aside and plied her with questions until she knew all that had taken place in Tipti’s palace. “I must go to the king at once,” she said as she nodded dismissal to the maid and summoned her crown and royal robes to be brought.

Solomon was in the Hall of Judgment sitting on his golden throne with the lion armrests when he heard that his mother was on her way to see him. As her palanquin arrived at the entrance to the great hall, he sent six of his pages to escort her up to the throne.

He watched with keen curiosity as one of the young men pulled aside the curtains and helped Bathsheba to alight. He was surprised to see how very frail she was. With some effort she climbed the six marble steps. Though she stood straight, her head high, and had the same proud demeanor he had always admired, she was still leaning more heavily than usual on her gold-handled cane.

His throne was built low and wide and made comfortable with tasseled cushions. Most of the time he sat in the oriental fashion with his legs crossed. Now he made room for his mother beside him, ordering more cushions and a footrest to make sure she would be comfortable. Then knowing she had some important message, he ordered his pages, trumpeters, and counselors to move away from the throne.

“So, what disaster has brought you out in this hurry?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

Bathsheba fretted at the gauze mantle, smoothed her long sleeves, and looked around to see if it was safe to talk. “My son,” she said anxiously, “you must not take this lightly.”

Solomon smiled, he was tempted to laugh. His mother always wanted to make sure even before she said anything that there would be the proper reception. “You know that I always take your words seriously,” he said.

“You remember I told you of the serving girl I had placed in the Egyptian’s service.”

He was amused. She never deigned to call Tipti by her name. She was always “the Egyptian.”

“Yes, of course,” he said, “I remember. Has she brought some interesting tidbits for us to mull over?”

“Not tidbits, my son. Treason and treachery is more the name for it.”

Solomon was suddenly serious. “Treason! Who is involved in this treason as you call it?”

“It will be hard for you to believe, but it is none other than your man Jeroboam. Tipti has dared to entertain him alone for dinner.”

Solomon’s countenance clouded and his jeweled right hand, gripped his scepter so hard the veins stood out on his hand, but his voice was steady and controlled. “I should have him flogged and publicly beheaded.”

Bathsheba turned pale. “It’s what he well deserves. But your wife Tipti is the real culprit. How could a humble workman like Jeroboam refuse the queen? No, no, it’s plain to me that Tipti is the one to be flogged and sent home in disgrace.”

“What was the occasion for this dinner?” Solomon asked with an apparent calm demeanor. Only his eyes, hard and penetrating, told a different story. “Did the maiden also know that?”

“Yes, yes. She told me everything, and it is a sorry tale full of treasonous plots and ambitious designs. It seems that the Egyptian has plans for this upstart, Jeroboam, to usurp your throne after your defeat by the coalition.”

Solomon didn’t answer right away, but his agitation was evident by the way he pushed back his crown and pulled at his short beard. He seemed to be struggling to take in all the aspects of this startling news. When he finally spoke, his words were clipped and had a bitter edge to them. “So the plans are that complete. I must say I’m surprised. I wouldn’t have thought either Tipti or Jeroboam could be so treacherous.”

“There seems to be one problem. They must have the queen of Sheba’s backing if the plan is to succeed.”

“They aren’t sure of her?”

“They don’t seem to be. She evidently hasn’t committed herself yet.”

“Aha, then there is a good chance their plans can be foiled.”

“You can have Tipti exposed, sent back to Egypt, and Jeroboam executed.”

“Mother!” Solomon said feigning shock. “Tipti’s valuable. Now she’s probably even more valuable than ever.”

“I don’t understand. She has an Egyptian knife pointed at your throat.”

“I’m amazed that you don’t see how it works.”

“I see all too well how it works.”

“No, no, mother. You don’t understand. Now that I know for sure that Tipti repeats everything to her brother in Egypt, all we have to do is give her false information to report. That is the better revenge. To outwit the enemy is far sweeter than to have him flogged.”

Solomon’s whole demeanor had changed, but Bathsheba wasn’t convinced. “That won’t be nearly as easy as you seem to think. For instance, what information can you give Tipti that will make the pharaoh give up his plans? It’s too difficult. Tipti knows everything.”

“Well,” Solomon said, stroking his short beard impatiently. “Let me think. Surely there’s some bit of information that would be difficult for Tipti or her spies to check and yet would be totally discouraging to the pharaoh.”

“It is impossible. Tipti has ways of discovering everything. Just think of one thing that would be impossible for her to ferret out.”

Solomon liked a challenge of wits. “The one thing that no one can find out,” he said almost to himself, “is what I am thinking. Am I right?”

“Of course,” Bathsheba agreed.

“It is also true, I’m told, that I am known for my ability to have women fall in love with me.”

“Unfortunately, that is also true, but what has that to do with the problem?”

Solomon laughed a mirthless, harsh laugh as he explained.

“What do you think would happen if Tipti was told and the pharaoh informed that the queen of Sheba had fallen in love with Solomon and that Solomon for a change had fallen in love with her?”

“They wouldn’t believe a word of it. They would know it wouldn’t last. None of your relationships with women have lasted. You’re always tiring of them.”

Solomon didn’t answer for a moment, and when he did he was no longer joking. “There was a woman once that never bored me.”

“Shulamit?”

“Yes, Shulamit. But since she died nothing has been the same.”

“God doesn’t make mistakes, my son.”

Solomon looked over at her and his eyes were dark with pain, his mouth tense. “Actually I’ve often wondered how God could have made such a botch of things. To give the son to Naamah and only daughters to Shulamit. I’ve never understood.”

Bathsheba was shocked. Though she had often thought about the strange turn of events that had given Naamah, the Ammonite queen, the son that would rule Israel, she hadn’t imagined that Solomon had also
pondered over the strangeness of it all. She felt a twinge of guilt as she remembered that she had been the one that had urged his marriage to Naamah. “I did wrong to force the marriage,” she said. “I was so ambitious. I wanted you to be king at any cost.”

Solomon turned away. He knew that what she said was true, and yet it did seem that God could have intervened.