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Solomon sat in his library study, leafing through stacks of paper, his hair disheveled, his beard damp with sweat, his eyes swollen and red from lack of sleep. He sipped from a wine glass as he continued to leaf through the parchments.
A soft knock interrupted his tired thoughts. He set the parchments down and looked up wearily. “Come in.”
The door softly opened as Caleb entered. He stared at the king with open concern. “My lord and king.”
Solomon sipped from his wine and stared at his adviser dryly. “You don’t have to act like your looking at a dead corpse, Caleb. I’m very much alive.”
“You look sick, my lord.”
Solomon laughed and set his wine glass down. “Yes, well, that does seem to be the consensus of those closest to me. Although I’m sure they mean it in a far different way. What is it, Caleb?”
Caleb looked down at a small scroll he held and lifted it. “We received the usual requests from various ambassadors and kings who request an audience with you this month --- you know, to see Jerusalem, Israel and to witness your wisdom first hand--”
“Yes, yes,” Solomon said in annoyance. “I’m far too busy to deal with that now. They will have to wait.”
“Yes, my lord,” Caleb pursed his lips. “However, there was one request I thought I should bring to you personally. Do you know who the Queen of Sheba is?”
Solomon shrugged. “Of Ethiopia? Yes, I know of her. Her father recently died, I think.”
“Yes, well, she very adamantly requested an audience with you. Evidently she has sought to come here many times before but always to be canceled or postponed. She has said in her message that she refuses to take no for an answer, and will arrive at Jerusalem within the week whether invited or no.”
Solomon felt a whimsical smile curl up his face. “Well, the lady’s got grit, I’ll give her that.”
“Should I prepare Benaiah and his men to keep her entourage from entering Israel?”
Solomon burst out laughing. “Heavens no, Caleb! My, I’m glad you aren’t king!”
“But . . . you said you were busy . . .”
“Well, of course I’m busy!” Solomon snapped. “But if this Queen wants to see my kingdom and me this badly, let her come. After all, why am I doing all these lavish projects if not for others to see? No one around here seems to appreciate them!” He finished with a mutter.
Caleb bowed low. “Then should I send a garrison out to escort her to Jerusalem?”
Solomon paused and ran the tip of his finger around the rim of his wine glass. “No . . . keep her wondering. We’ll let her come right up to the closed gates of Jerusalem and let her wonder. Two can play at this game.”
“Very good, my lord,” Caleb said, shaking his head. He silently departed.
Solomon gulped the rest of his wine and continued his search through the parchments.
“What kind of game is he playing?” Benaiah shouted at Caleb, his face red with anger. “In two days Sheba will be at the gates and we are to keep them closed and not so much as send out a greeter to escort them?”
Caleb shrugged. “I’m as mystified as you are. The king commanded it.”
“The king commanded it,” Benaiah muttered. “The king’s going mad.”
“Captain Benaiah!” Caleb gasped. “You will not speak of the king in such a manner.”
Benaiah eyed Caleb angrily and shook his head. “You don’t just treat other nations like this. I thought he learned his lesson with Hiram. Does he want to make enemies? Is he tired of peace?”
Caleb looked helplessly at Benaiah. “I honestly do not know. He seemed to find it amusing that Sheba was coming whether invited or not and said he wanted to keep her guessing.”
“It’s rude and impolite and only serves to feed his flesh!” Benaiah shouted again. “As one of his trusted advisors, you should have counseled him otherwise!”
Caleb’s eyes widened. “You know very well he would not have listened. Would you like to go and try to persuade him?”
Benaiah opened his mouth and then stopped, shaking his head. His chest deflated. He felt his anger seep away, replaced by hopelessness. “No, you’re right. He keeps calling his poor wife childish. He’s the one acting like a child.”
Caleb’s eyes narrowed and he lowered his voice. “I hear the Queen of Sheba is very shrewd.”
Benaiah looked into Caleb’s eyes intently. He nodded quickly. “Yes, perhaps you’re right. Maybe this queen will knock some sense into him. Lord knows we can’t seem to do it.”
Caleb nodded. “I’m sure she will not exactly appreciate her warm welcome. Perhaps Solomon will become the better for it.”
“One can only hope, Caleb. One can only hope.”
As evening settled on the land of Israel like purple velvet, the bright stars shining, the thumbnail moon marking the month’s young age, the royal entourage of Queen Sheba finally arrived at the closed gates of Jerusalem.
Seven golden chariots rumbled up the road, surrounded by two brigades of dark skinned soldiers and led by a group of musicians with lyres and trumpets. They looked tired, hot and famished.
The entourage stopped only feet in front of the shut gates. A tall, dark skinned man, unsheathed his sword and lifted it above his head. A trumpet blasted before he addressed Benaiah who stood on the rampart above.
“Has Jerusalem always so cooly received her guests?” The man shouted.
Benaiah sighed deeply. “Our king tells us you were denied an invitation.”
The man, shocked, hesitated for only a moment. “We expressed in a detailed message our intention to come. The queen has been turned away for the last time. Surely you must have known of our presence these last three days we have traveled in Israel?”
Benaiah swore. This was foolishness. He would not take part in this little game! He resolved, I will not be some sort of pawn for Solomon to move--
Solomon suddenly joined Benaiah on the ramparts, a smile on his face. Benaiah scowled. Solomon leaned over the rampart and shouted down. “So, you have finally arrived, have you?”
The center most chariot shook. Curtains flapped away as a beautiful woman jumped out. She was dressed in an elegant, silver gown. Her long dark hair tumbled down to her legs and out from beneath the gray mantle she wore. A gray cloak covered her head and shadowed her features. Her dark eyes glittered with anger.
“Is this how you treat a queen, King Solomon?” She yelled.
Solomon laughed. “Ah, so you finally decide to show yourself. I assume you are the Queen of Sheba.”
“And I assume your are the king’s jester?” The queen snapped back.
Benaiah tried to hide his smile. Caleb was right. She was sharp.
He noticed Solomon was no longer smiling. He frowned deeply.
“I see your manners need improving. I was not aware I had invited you, Queen of Sheba,” Solomon boomed.
“Aren’t you one for talking about manners!” At this both the gathered Israelites on the wall ramparts and the Ethiopians below laughed. Solomon turned red. Benaiah smiled smugly. This was just what the arrogant king needed. “And the only reason I came uninvited is because you have turned down my request for months. Are we at war perhaps and you forgot to inform me?”
Again, roaring laughter. Benaiah covered his smile.
Solomon spun around and leaned close to Benaiah. “I’ve had enough of her foolishness! Open the gates and prepare the banquet hall. I won’t let her make me a laughing stock in my own city.”
Benaiah nodded and issued the orders.
Solomon had not seen his wife in over two weeks and saw no reason to invite the foolish woman to the royal banquet thrown for Queen Sheba. Solomon gave explicit orders to Benaiah not to invite his wife. We’ll see how she likes being ignored for awhile. Let her enjoy the solitude of her palace.
Solomon smiled inwardly. Who knew? She might even become a little jealous that he was spending time with another Queen. Maybe it would humble her.
After smarting under the verbal embarrassment the Queen of Sheba had dealt him, Solomon determined in his heart to so impress and awe her she would never treat him in such a manner again. To this end, he ordered Caleb, Benaiah and his men to transform the king’s court into a dreamland. Within an hour, several thousand crystals, newly hand-glossed and polished, wheeled into the hall, refracting the torch light in rainbow colors. Solomon commanded his men to throw golden bars all over the floor as if they fell from the ceiling.
Expansive, rich tapestries of purple, blue and red covered the walls. And, as an extra bonus, Solomon ordered all the dishes dipped in pure gold. Toward the center of the vast, pillared hall, two dozen servants wheeled in a miniature mountain -- dirt, rock and grass hewn from a literal mountain. However, this smaller mountain had a gorgeous waterfall running down its front side into a pond below. A golden bridge arched over the top of the waterfall, crowning the mountain. Solomon smiled as he watched the mountain rest in the center of the hall. If nothing else, this ought to impress the queen.
Solomon had all the tables, laden with steaming foods, ready and prepared. He sat on his throne, eyes fixed on the wide, oaken doors, wanting to see the Queen of Sheba’s reaction.
From the side corridors, Benaiah led the soldiers in to form a perimeter around the vast room. The priests filed in next, followed by the top officials, magistrates and judges of Israel. After each had taken his seat, the two oaken doors swung wide. Dark skinned men marched in. Two of them blew their shimmering shofars as a royal litter, held by four thick necked black men, made its way into the room. The four black men advanced, bringing the purpled velvet covered litter into the center of the banquet chamber before lowering it carefully to the floor. Two of the black men pulled back the thick curtains and the Queen of Sheba emerged.
Solomon had wanted to watch her face for its expression, but instead he found his own mouth dropping. She wore an exquisite red jeweled robe, sparkling in the light from the well-placed crystals in the room. Her long black hair was tied on top, with a circlet of silver around her head. As her bare feet touched the marbled floor, she glanced around the room in wonder. Her large eyes widened further as she gasped in delight.
Solomon smiled smugly, this should show her.
As her eyes scanned the golden vessels, the crystals, the intricately woven tapestries, one of her hands covered her mouth. She nearly staggered back in awe. Then her eyes fell upon the man made mountain with the waterfall and golden bridge.
“Oh, Solomon!” She cried out, laughing at the whimsical feature. Solomon smiled proudly.
“You like my humble banquet hall?” He asked lazily.
She shook her head as she gingerly made her way toward the mountain, stretching her arms out to feel the mist of the waterfall as it cascaded into the pond.
“This is wonderful!” She gasped again. Solomon scanned her loyal subjects and saw all of them filled with the same wonderment. This was what he lived for. Now, these primitive people would see his grandeur, his power, his riches and honor.
“Please, take a seat!” Solomon gestured to a crystal table set on the stone floor beneath his throne. The queen sat at the table as some of her top men joined her. Benaiah, Caleb and Joshua joined the king at a polished red wood table placed on the large pedestal his throne sat upon. In this way, Solomon could look down upon the Queen, a visual reminder of who carried the most power and majesty between the two monarchs.
Sheba gasped as she beheld his throne. When the riches began arriving from Ophir, Solomon had replaced the simple golden chair with a grand throne. The throne rose twelve feet into the air, pure gold, rimmed with silver, with a red velvet pad running along its face. Two fierce lions, forged from solid gold, roared, forming the armrests. Six steps of ivory led from his throne down to the floor. However, for this evening, a platform had been built over the steps so others could dine with him. The throne looked like a replica of the Judgment Seat but much more ornate.
“You like it?” Solomon said as he slid his hand along the golden back of one lion. Benaiah rolled his eyes.
The queen nodded, eyes wide. “Your gold here seems to grow on trees. There is more gold in this single hall than in all my lands.”
Solomon lifted a glass to his lips and sipped the wine. “Yes, well, this is the kingdom of Solomon you are in now.”
The queen wrinkled her face in disdain. The effect of the glory around her began to fade and Solomon could tell that she found his smug pride rather annoying. Good. This is the least she deserves for humiliating me.
The queen nodded toward the smaller, empty throne on Solomon’s right. “And where is Solomon’s queen this evening?”
Benaiah and the other officials who heard the queen paused. Solomon kept his composure and sighed. “She is not feeling well this evening.”
“I see,” her eyes narrowed as she lifted a bite to her mouth with the golden fork.
As the meal progressed, dancers, acrobats, jugglers and jesters kept the queen and her entourage mildly amused. Solomon could discern that the woman was keeping her guard up so that he would not gain any undue advantage. He smiled inwardly. He enjoyed this match of the wits.
As the meal ended and midnight approached, Benaiah kicked back his chair and rose to his feet. Joshua followed suit and the soldiers along both walls snapped to attention.
“We should probably get things wrapped up for the evening,” Benaiah said.
Solomon nodded. “Yes, thank you captain.”
Solomon rose to his feet as a group of soldiers removed the platform and table. The king walked down his ivory steps and stepped toward the Queen. He extended his hand and she offered hers as he helped her to her feet.
“A very . . . amazing evening, King Solomon. I am . . . most impressed,” she said.
Solomon inclined his head as servants and soldiers labored to tear everything down around them.
“Would you like to take a stroll along the citadel ramparts? A late summer night is perfect for walks such as those.”
The queen’s eyebrow cocked. “What would your wife say?”
Solomon smiled tightly. “My wife has learned her place.”
“Has she?” The queen chuckled. “That is quite a palace you built for her.”
Solomon felt heat rise in his face. Somehow this woman knew exactly what words to say to catch him off guard. He smoothly hid his emotions and shrugged indifferently. “Those wonders fill my kingdom. Let me show you a wonder that will truly take your breath away.”
Solomon stood on the circling balcony that wrapped around the “room of the heavens”. The Queen of Sheba gazed at the beautiful city spread below them. The emerald dome caught the thin sliver of moonlight in a glow of soft green. Thousands of twinkling lights filled the city.
Far beyond the grand Temple, Mount Zion loomed against the horizon. The ruby-studded road circled the mountain like a smooth, red snake. Carefully placed torches flickered light onto the road, refracting a reddish hue along the pavement. The entire mountain seemed to glow a rose red.
The queen gasped and again raised her hand to her mouth as she beheld the newly finished road.
Solomon smiled proudly and rocked back on his heels. “Truly delightful, is it not?”
She shook her head. “The riches I have seen here have far surpassed even the grandest legends I heard about this place. Your people seem happy, gold drips like rain along your streets . . . I have heard about your famed wisdom . . . you seem to be truly blessed.”
Solomon reveled in the queen’s assessment. He winked and nodded. “I couldn’t agree more, my Ethiopian Queen.”
Solomon suddenly found her dark, delicate face supremely beautiful in the moonlight. He gazed at her hard and long.
The queen shifted uncomfortably and moved away. “Well, I should retire for the evening. It is late and my journey was long.”
Solomon remained motionless, enjoying the features of her face. She looks so incredibly wondrous.
The queen smiled nervously. “Well, goodnight my king. Until tomorrow. And I hope your wife recovers soon. I would enjoy meeting her.”
She curtsied and hurried back into the room and down the wide stairs.
Solomon sighed, a long, deep, tired sigh.
And, from far below, looking out her wide window, another Queen gazed up at her husband, jealousy gnawing at her heart.
Solomon walked alongside the Queen of Sheba through his royal gardens. He picked some grapes and handed them to the her.
“These gardens are huge,” she remarked. Several of her dark skinned body guards followed at a distance.
“Yes, they have grown more wonderful with each passing season,” Solomon chewed on some grapes. “You don’t have gardens in Ethiopia?”
“Nothing like this,” she remarked as they passed near the silver fountain.
Solomon smiled. “Ah yes, the fountain. On a hot day like this, it’s perfect!”
Solomon raced to the fountain and suddenly splashed the queen with the water. She shrieked and back away, her satin robes soaked.
“Solomon!” She roared.
The king laughed hard, sitting on the lip of the fountain. “Come now, admit it! It feels good.”
Dripping wet, she bounded toward the king and pushed him back. Solomon’s eyes widened as he fell backward into the fountain. Her bodyguards snickered. Solomon, sputtering, climbed out of the fountain, laughing hard. She laughed as well.
Suddenly Solomon grabbed the queen and pulled her into the fountain. She screamed as she splashed with him into the fountain.
The two stumbled out of the water as the sun began to dry them almost instantly.
“Well, my lady, that is the royal fountain,” Solomon laughed.
The queen nodded, laughing, as her guards handed her a towel to dry. “I think I’d rather have that be the last fountain we tour today.”
Solomon nodded. “Have another grape.” This time he held his hand over her mouth. She hesitated and then opened her mouth as he gently dropped one in. She smiled as she chewed.
“These grapes are the most delicious I’ve ever tasted.”
Solomon nodded as they continued their stroll. “We’ve learned how to treat the soil so that they grow twice the size of normal grapes. You should see the tomato garden. I doubt even Adam had such a great garden in Eden.”
She nodded. “Yes, and speaking of Adam, where is Eve?”
Solomon shrugged again. “My wife and I have not been speaking to each other of late.”
The queen nodded as they walked on in silence. She handed her towel back to her waiting guard. “I see. So not everyone is happy in the kingdom.”
“This kingdom has its problems much like any other on this wide earth, I imagine,” he said wistfully.
“Are you really sure spending time with me is the best way to help improve relations with your wife?”
Solomon’s eyes flashed. “I spend my time with whom I want. Don’t forget, you were the one who invited yourself.”
“I did not intend to invite myself into the middle of a domestic squabble.”
“Squabble?” Rebecca strode out from a nearby door, her hair tied back and her face like stone. “How could we squabble? We never see each other, much less speak.”
The dark skinned queen stood still. She quickly glanced at Solomon and then at his approaching wife. Solomon’s eyes darkened. The Queen of Sheba curtsied.
“Queen Rebecca, it is a pleasure and honor to meet you,” she said softly.
“Yes, I was beginning to wonder when my husband would actually introduce me to you. You’ve been here, what, a week now?” Rebecca snapped, her eyes like daggers as they stared into Solomon.
“Maybe if you’d actually come out of your palace more than once a week, you would have already met her!” Solomon snapped back.
The Queen of Sheba stepped away.
“A queen likes to be pursued by her husband. She likes to be loved!” Now she shouted, tears rising in her eyes.
“And a king likes to have his queen by his side, not locked away in some palace, pining away in self pity!” Solomon roared.
The two faced each other as the tension tightened like a rope between them.
“All I ask is that you spend a little time with your son, with me. Is that too much to ask?” Rebecca said softly, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“And all I ask is that you understand the great responsibility I have as the greatest king on this earth!” Solomon hissed. “But it seems you really can’t understand that.”
“I’ll go ahead and leave you two--” The Ethiopian Queen started to depart.
“No!” Both Solomon and his wife yelled at once. The Queen of Sheba remained frozen.
“I have projects to complete!” Solomon barked. “I can’t spend every waking moment with you and your son!”
“He’s your son, too, Solomon!” Rebecca fought back her tears, her face red with rage. “And you don’t spend any of your waking or sleeping moments with him or me!”
Solomon stared at his wife long and hard. He nodded curtly. “If you’ll excuse me. I am giving our guest a tour of the gardens.”
Rebecca nodded. “I see. So you have time to spend with another woman, but you don’t have time to spend with your wife or son?”
Solomon rolled his eyes. “This is a matter of state business, Rebecca!”
“Like hell it is!” She screamed. “I saw you both earlier this week on the balcony! I could see the way you gazed at her. And now you dare to flirt with her openly in the garden, playing like children in the fountain?”
“I apologize, my lady--” The Queen of Sheba whispered.
“Shut up!” Solomon cut her off. “What are you accusing me of, Rebecca?”
“So far I have not accused you of anything!” She snapped. “Should I? Or are you guilty enough to admit it?”
“Admit what?” Solomon lowered his voice, his anger cooling into dark rage.
Rebecca looked at the queen and felt embarrassed. I’ve gone too far to turn back now.
“I see how you’ve been watching her, Solomon. Don’t think I’m stupid. Have you kissed her? Have you made love to her?”
Solomon slapped his wife’s face. Rebecca remained stone still, her eyes shut.
Solomon withdrew his hand, eyes dark. “Don’t you ever accuse me falsely again. Or I will put you away, woman.”
“You already have, Solomon,” and she walked away.
The Ethiopian Queen cleared her throat. “I think I would like to retire for the afternoon. Good day, my king,” she curtsied and returned they way they had walked.
Solomon stood alone in the gardens, a cold, empty feeling deep in the pit of his stomach.
“The Queen of Sheba is departing this evening,” Benaiah said to Solomon. The two men stood on the balcony of his bedchamber as they watched the hot summer sun set in a wash of purple, gold, pink and blue. The first stars began to peak through the fading purple sky.
“Yes, I expected as much,” Solomon murmured. Both his hands were clasped behind his back as he stared at the emerald palace before him.
“Solomon . . . “ Benaiah sighed, not sure how to proceed. “I think you’ve really hurt your wife. You should go to her. This evening.”
Solomon shut his eyes wearily. His shoulders slumped. “She accused me of adultery, Benaiah. Adultery! How can I forgive her for that?”
Benaiah rested one hand on Solomon’s shoulder. “Try being honest with yourself. Weren’t you already committing adultery in your heart?”
The king tore away from Benaiah’s hand and leaned forward onto the balcony rail. “I don’t know! I don’t know!”
Benaiah stood motionless and silent.
“Maybe I did find the Queen of Sheba attractive . . . and enjoyable. But my wife had no right to accuse me of such a sin! It’s almost as if she wanted me to be guilty. As if she expected it. I thought you were bad in pointing out my faults, Benaiah,” Solomon shook his head and turned to him. “But you are nothing compared to my wife. She accused me of sleeping with the Ethiopian Queen!”
Benaiah shrugged. “Can you blame her? She has watched silently while you spent more private time with your beautiful guest in one week that you have with your wife in the past two months.”
“Well, it’s her fault!” Solomon hissed. “She’s constantly nagging me, pestering me about my son. The boy is only four years old! He’s not even a man yet. What am I supposed to do with him? The best thing for him is to see his father busy and working so he’ll know how to take care of the kingdom.”
Benaiah nodded and gazed at the setting sun. “Perhaps. But perhaps he also needs a father who will spend time with him, and show him how much he loves his mother. Solomon, don’t you remember how much your father loved Bathsheba?”
Solomon shut his eyes as memories flooded his mind. Memories of his mother, of how his father would embrace and kiss her, of how he would give Bathsheba her favorite flower, a red rose.
And with those memories, emotions flooded his soul . . . emotions he had felt in his youth, when life was so much more simple . . . when the cares and burdens of this life had not weighed down on him . . . when this weary restlessness had not consumed his heart.
“I am not like my father,” Solomon admitted silently, his head bowed.
Benaiah shook his head. “No, but you once were. You can be again. He was a man after Yah’s own heart.”
Benaiah again reached his hand out and gently patted his friend’s shoulder. “Go to Rebecca, Solomon. Make things right. She loves you so much. Your son loves you so much.”
Solomon nodded and gave a deep, resolved breath. “I will.” The two men embraced long and hard as the last of the sun’s light disappeared and a new day began.