This Scarlet Cord (22 page)

“In the sanctuary, my lord.”

The prince went inside and when he came out his face was grave. “It looks as if he died in the act.” He came over to Rahab and knelt down next to her.

At that moment her eyes fluttered, opened, and she looked up at him. He asked quietly, “Are you all right? You’ve had quite a shock.”

“The k-king,” Rahab stuttered. “He . . . he . . .”

“Yes, we know. You will need to tell us what happened,” Tamur answered.

“My lord!”

Tamur looked up to see Farut coming across the room. “You sent for me? What has happened?”

“My father is dead.” The prince jerked his head toward the inner sanctuary. “In there.”

Farut went immediately into the room and when he came out he, too, was pale. “We must send for the high priest. He must declare the king dead before we can move his body.”

“Yes, and I want a priestess to examine this girl. Her robe is stained with my father’s seed. I don’t think he was able to finish the act.”

Farut squatted next to the prince and looked into Rahab’s dazed face. “Rahab. Please, can you tell us what happened?”

She replied in a thin, frightened voice, “He was lying on top of me, moaning and pushing at me, and then he just stopped moving and lay still. I didn’t know what had happened. I didn’t do anything! Truly, I didn’t do anything! I only pushed him away after a while so that I could get up. Then I saw that he was dead.”

Farut and the prince looked at each other. “He didn’t manage it,” Farut said.

“No, the trying killed him.” The prince stood up and began to issue orders to the guards that now filled the room. “Go fetch the priestesses to take care of this poor girl. And bring my father’s counselors here as well. I want everyone to see what happened so there can be no rumors of assassination.”

“Yes, my lord,” the head guard replied and began to snap out orders to his underlings.

Rahab tried to get to her feet and Farut bent to help her. When she was standing the two men looked at her. The thin robe could not hide her body and her pale face made her eyes look larger and blacker than ever.

Farut said, “Beauty killed him.”

The prince nodded. “What a piece of luck for us. If the priestesses confirm that the sacred marriage was not accomplished, then I can ascend the throne and truly become the king and progenitor of this land.”

Farut bowed low, until his forehead almost touched his knees. “All hail to the king!” he said loudly. And all of the guards in the room repeated the words with him. “All hail to the king.”

Twenty-One

I
T WAS AFTER MIDNIGHT WHEN THE NEW KING MET
with his closest friends, along with the high priest and head priestess, both of whom had been supporters of his father. Makamaron’s body had been removed from the sanctuary and taken back to the palace. Tamur had called this group together to decide how to handle the problem that had so stunningly arisen. He was clever enough to realize that he needed to divert any possible rumors of assassination, thus it was important to have an answer for any questions that might be raised by skeptics as to the way his father had died.

The council was meeting in one of the small side rooms of the temple and Tamur, who was seated on a carved stool with the others gathered around him, addressed the high priest first. “What say you, High Priest? How should we inform the city of my father’s death? And how should we phrase our announcement?”

Tamur’s voice had been respectful and Ratu’s tight mouth relaxed a little. He said, “We cannot tell them he died attempting to complete the sacred marriage. Such a statement could easily spread fear that Baal is angry with the city, and we cannot risk that, especially now, with the Israelite threat so close.”

Tamur looked at the others. “I agree with the high priest. With the Israelites waiting to attack us, we cannot do anything that might take the heart out of our people.”

Farut said, “The important question is—can we trust the girl to keep her mouth closed? We do not want to say anything that might taint the sacredness of the ritual, and the king falling dead in the midst of the act . . .” He shrugged. “It would be best if the city did not know that.”

All of the men turned to the head priestess, who had earlier removed Rahab from the temple and taken her back to Asherah’s Shrine.

Umara’s slanted brown eyes narrowed. “She was frightened and I think she will do as we tell her.” She pinched her lips in disgust. “It was mad to name an ignorant girl like that to be hierodule.”

Murmurs of agreement came from the prince’s men.

Umara continued, “Leave her to me. I will tell her if she says anything about the king dying in her bed, people may think she killed the king herself. Given that caution, I think we can count on her remaining quiet.”

“We can always send the whole family back to their farm,” Farut said.

The high priest disagreed. “I don’t think that is a good idea. I heard from one of my informants that most of the village people who came into Jericho for the festival are planning to remain until the threat from the Israelites is over. If we send this girl and her family back to be butchered, it might give rise to just the kind of rumors we want to avoid.”

Farut reluctantly agreed.

“There is one vital fact that I must know,” said Tamur, turning to the head priestess. “Did my father manage to complete the sacred marriage before he died?”

“No, he did not. I examined the girl myself and she is still a virgin.”

Tamur’s eyebrows flew upward in surprise. “A girl who looks like that—she was a virgin?”

“Yes, my lord. She was and she still is.”

“So the sacred marriage was never accomplished?”

“No, my lord. It was not accomplished.”

“That is good news,” Tamur said.

The high priest said, “If that is the case then we must have another sacred marriage, a real one. Every part of the festival must follow its proper order. We cannot risk the anger of Baal, not now when we lie under the threat of a siege.” He turned to the young man who was now king of Jericho, Baal’s representative on earth. “You must complete the ritual, my lord. It is not too late. We can bring the hierodule back and start over again.”

“I agree,” Tamur said. “It is imperative that we assure the people that every part of the ritual has been accomplished.”

Farut said, “I think this is how we should proceed. We tell the people that Makamaron’s heart ceased to beat before he even went into the sanctuary. Before he even saw the hierodule. Thus we can assure them that the kingship passed untainted from father to son, and Tamur, their new king, accomplished the sacred marriage in the place of his father. We can assure them that Baal and Asherah have come together and that our land will be blessed for the coming year.”

Everyone agreed with this plan.

Tamur said to the head priestess, “There is still time to do this, Head Priestess. Can you get the girl ready quickly?”

The head priestess looked thoughtful.

Tamur said sharply, “Did you hear me, Head Priestess?”

“I did, my lord, and I do not think you can use this girl as your hierodule. She has been shocked and frightened—she is a virgin, remember. She is in no state right now to allow the goddess to enter into her spirit. The sacred marriage will not fulfill its purpose if she is part of it.”

“She will feel differently with me, Head Priestess. I am not an ugly old man and I know how to woo a woman.”

The priestess shook her head. “Believe me, it would be a great mistake. The hierodule must appear at the banquet in the temple courtyard tomorrow morning, and you do not want a pale and shaken woman sitting beside you, my lord king.”

Bari, who had been quiet thus far, now spoke. “Get Arsay to do it. My sister was supposed to be the hierodule in the first place, until Makamaron replaced her with this farmer’s daughter.”

The high priest looked at Bari in approval. “An excellent idea. Arsay will know how to conduct herself. That would be best.”

“How shall we explain the change in hierodules to the people?” The king’s voice was crisp. His biggest concern was to have answers to any questions that might arise as to the naturalness of his father’s death.

Umara said, “We will say she was your father’s choice, but your choice is Arsay, a priestess of Asherah’s Shrine. No one will question the legitimacy of such a decision.”

Farut, ever practical, said, “What shall we do with the other one then? Lock her up to ensure her silence?”

The high priestess regarded the young man as if he were about two years old. “It would be unwise to make her a prisoner when we may need her to back up our story that Makamaron died before he came to her. She will say what we tell her to say as long as we return her to her family, I’m certain of that. Odd as we may find it, she never wanted to be the hierodule in the first place.”

A thoughtful silence fell, then the king said, “I will listen to your advice, Head Priestess. Send the girl home and make certain she knows what she is expected to say.”

Umara bowed her head.

Tamur once more looked around the hastily summoned council. “So this is what I will do. I will say that my father’s heart stopped while he was preparing to go to the hierodule. I will say that after his body was seen by the high priest, it was respectfully returned to the palace. I will say that I, the new king, made the sacred marriage with a priestess from our own temple.”

Murmurs of approval as the men nodded their heads.

“I will deliver this announcement at the banquet tomorrow morning, and I will also announce that the banquet will be shortened so that my father’s funeral rites can take place immediately.” Tamur paused. “Are we agreed?”

“Yes, my lord,” came the unified response.

“Very well,” the king said. “Then we had better start to prepare for the second sacred marriage.”

“I will get Arsay,” the high priestess said, and the council broke up.

It was after midnight and Rahab lay curled into a tight ball in the middle of her bed. The rush light in the room had burned out earlier leaving her in darkness, but she could not go to sleep. She had scrubbed all traces of the king off her skin, but he was not so easily banished from her thoughts. The nightmare events of the day kept running ceaselessly through her mind.

They had taken her from the temple and brought her here to the shrine, where she had endured a humiliating encounter with the head priestess. The woman had wanted to verify whether or not the king had had intercourse with her. Rahab didn’t think he had, but in her innocence she wasn’t quite sure.

Her relief upon hearing that the king had not defiled her was enormous. It was only after Umara had left her alone that the idea crept into Rahab’s mind that because she was still pure perhaps they would make her be the hierodule again with the new king.

At this thought, Rahab flung herself onto her back and stared up into the darkness, her fists clenched at her sides. “I won’t do it.” She said it out loud, to emphasize her resolve. “I don’t care what they do to me, I will not be the hierodule again.”

They will not want an unwilling goddess
, she told herself, struggling to hold back panic.
I will tell them that I am sick, that my experience with the king dying while he was lying on top of me has shattered my nerves, that I am not fit to welcome Asherah into my heart. They will see the reasonableness of that. They must! These people truly believe Asherah comes into the person of the hierodule. They will not think I am fit
.

Her experience tonight had stripped Rahab of her belief in any rituals of Baal, and her thoughts turned next to Elohim, Sala’s god. When she was chosen to be hierodule, she had believed Elohim hadn’t heard her prayers, that a god of the Israelites would have no concern for her, a Canaanite woman.

Then the king had died before he could defile her.

Elohim
had
heard her. He had heard her and He had saved her from the king.

Rahab closed her eyes and prayed with all her heart:
Help me now, Elohim, as You did before. I believe You are the one God, Creator of us all, and I promise I will be Your follower. Please help me to get away from these false worshippers. Help me to get home
.

At this moment, the door of Rahab’s cell swung open and the head priestess came in. She was carrying a rush light, which she put on the wooden chest. The small light flickered, leaving pools of darkness in all the corners of the room.

“We must talk,” Umara said.

Rahab, who had sat up as soon as the door began to open, nodded speechlessly.

The priestess remained standing by the chest so Rahab could see her face in the flickering light. Umara said, “It has been decided that you may return to your family, but you must first agree to certain conditions.”

Joy ignited inside Rahab and she clapped her hands in delight.

The priestess said, “Don’t look so happy yet, you have not heard the conditions. Are you listening?”

Rahab tried to stop smiling. “Yes, Head Priestess. I am listening. I will do whatever it is you ask of me.”

“This is the condition: you must never tell anyone that the king died in your bed. We are telling the people that he died while in his room, before he came to you. It is important that the people be assured the sacred marriage was not desecrated in any way. There is enough fear in the city because of the Israelites and we do not want to add to it. Do you understand?”