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The king walked down the wide hall, his eyes forward, his face stone, his beard smooth and black against his chest. He wore tight fitting leather armor, his red royal cloak, gauntleted gloves. He looked like a man ready to wage serious business. If not war.
Most, however, had no idea that the war Solomon waged stormed in his heart.
Solomon saw Zeriah standing idly in one corner, a rag in one of her hands. He shifted his gaze away from her and tried to ignore the woman. Just walk past her, Solomon. Walk past her.
Her hand grabbed his arm. Solomon froze, glaring at the slave woman.
“You dare touch me?” He hissed.
Solomon saw not a hint of fear in her eyes. Only anger.
“So, that’s it then? I am your discarded plaything?”
Solomon shook her hand off. “Did you not see Benaiah yesterday? How can we continue? We’ve been discovered. Or would you now like me to openly fornicate with you and jeopardize my reign?”
Zeriah scowled. “You don’t even love her. Why pretend?”
“Oh, and you think I love you?” Solomon asked acidly. He immediately regretted his words. Zeriah backed away, her face hurt.
“Listen, Zeriah . . . I’m a king. I have a government to run. I have a family, a small boy who needs his father . . . I can’t be living this fantasy. I’m sorry.”
Zeriah folded her arms, her eyes like daggers. “Are you or are you not the greatest king in the earth?”
Solomon stared at her, blinking.
“Well?” She demanded.
Solomon shrugged with irritation. “What are you saying?”
“I thought the king could have as many wives as he wanted. I thought he could have as many concubines as he wanted,” she said, moving toward the king, her eyes intense. “Or are there some things even Solomon cannot do?”
Solomon shook his head wordlessly. Honestly, the thought had never occurred to him. For the last twenty years, one wife had suited all his needs. Only recently, in the last few years, had he begun to grow tired of her.
“I have even heard the your own father was known for taking a wife or two when it suited him,” Zeriah insisted, drawing closer. Solomon could smell her intoxicating perfume. He could fee her warm breath on his face.
“Why not marry me?” She said, their noses almost touching. “Would I not please you as a wife?”
Solomon shut his eyes, basking in the thought. Her lips brushed his, teasing him, tempting him before she drew back, smiling wickedly.
Solomon sighed, a soft moan escaping his lips. He backed away and looked at her. All his iron resolve melted when he saw this beautiful slave woman. “We will speak of this later.”
He quickly spun around and continued down the hall. He missed the sly smile Zeriah cast after him.
Solomon held the hand of his wife as they walked down the red jeweled road spiraling up and around Mt. Zion. The fading spring twilight cooled the evening air. Servants carefully lit the torches set in diamond sconces every several feet. The flickering light danced on the glossy surface of the road, casting red veins of light through the surface and causing the two of them to glow.
“This is so beautiful,” Rebecca breathed. She had returned from Egypt two weeks ago and, as far as Solomon guessed, knew nothing of his affair. He had not seen Benaiah much in those two weeks. Several times his guilt pressed him to confess his sin to his wife, but excuses kept his tongue silent. I can’t put her through the pain. Not when she has just lost her father.
So Solomon kept the sin a secret . . . and with each day, his heart continued to smolder with the words Zeriah had lit within him. Wasn’t he the king? Did not even his father have more than one wife? Yah certainly did not condemn him for such a thing. All others saw David as righteous. Yes, of course! Why all the sneaking around? Why all the guilt? Why not simply marry Zeriah . . . and be done with it?
Solomon considered the questions flashing through his mind in a jumble as the two continued down the road. Rebecca smiled contentedly at the road, unaware of the chaos within her husband.
I’ve felt restless, weary, tired for too long . . . but with a new woman to give me pleasure .. . the restlessness would leave. Yes, I’m certain of it. This is the solution. Why hadn’t I thought of it before?
Solomon stopped and turned toward his wife. Rebecca looked up at him expectantly.
“Rebecca, I have decided to take another wife.”
Rebecca’s mouth opened slightly. She looked at her husband in confused shock. “Oh?” She looked away.
“Yes, you know, my father took more than one wife. And am I not a greater king than he?”
“Does greatness entail the number of wives you have?” She said softly.
Solomon tightened his lips. She better not be difficult. “I need another wife, that’s all. Is there a problem?”
Rebecca shuddered and shook her head. They walked on in silence for some time. Solomon searched his wife’s face but could not read it. She finally forced a smile. “My lord, it is your right to make this decision. Which Israelite girl shall have the honor?”
Solomon took a deep breath. “Actually, I was considering the slave woman, the Hittite servant Zeriah.”
Rebecca’s face turned dark. Her eyes flashed with jealousy she could no longer contain. “The Hittite? The slave woman?”
Solomon remained silent.
Rebecca turned away again, taking deep breaths. She slowly forced herself to face her husband. “Has she agreed to become an Israelite, then?”
Solomon shrugged. He had not even considered that. “She will in time. That is of little concern to me. I’m sure she will make a wonderful Hebrew.”
“Shall?” Rebecca’s voice raised a notch. “I thought our laws were clear. She must agree to walk in the covenant before you can marry her. You are not allowed to marry foreign wives. With Yah’s grace, I can accept your trampling on my insignificant needs and desires, but I cannot sit by and watch you desecrate the Torah!”
“Yes, yes,” Solomon snapped. “she will become an Israelite in time. Those laws apply to the most stubborn of women. She enjoys serving in Israel. She will not resist becoming an Israelite. Like you, she will gladly accept our ways. We just need to give her a little time.”
“Caleb finds her a trouble maker. She has been reprimanded several times for kindling a fire on the Sabbath. Even her friends speak badly of her. I don’t think she is even close to desiring to walk as one circumcised in heart.”
Solomon’s eyes flashed. “You don’t know her as I do! You’ve only heard what others have said.”
Rebecca’s face burned red with anger. “Why, out of all the millions of beautiful Israelite women you may choose, must you marry a foreigner?”
Solomon swore under his breath. “I did not tell you this to request your permission. I am the king. I have decided!”
Rebecca shook her head. Her whole body shook. “And the king is not beholden to the Torah? Is that it?”
Solomon raised his hand to strike Rebecca. She flinched back, raising her own hands to block the blow. Solomon sighed, feeling his wrath evaporate. His chest deflated. I’m such a fool! He dropped his hand and stepped away.
“We will not discuss this further,” Solomon said in a whisper and walked away.
“Have you spoken to Benaiah about this?” Rebecca shouted after him.
Solomon spun around. “I am not required to go to Benaiah about everything I do! He is not my father nor my king. I have not spoken so much as two words with him in the last two weeks.”
Rebecca nodded. “I see. You are afraid of what he might say.”
“I am afraid of no one!” Solomon yelled. “I said this is the last we will speak of the subject!”
He strode away, his red robe flapping wildly behind him. Had he stayed a moment longer he might have heard the desperate, whispered words from his wife’s lips.
“I thought you had changed.”
Solomon and Zeriah stood in the tiny sanctuary set near the back end of the king’s court. A lone Levitical priest, dressed in white linen, carefully held a tiny scroll in one hand and quickly proceeded through the marriage ceremony. Two young soldiers stood just behind, watching the secret marriage.
Solomon tapped his foot impatiently. Zeriah, her eyes slits and her smile coy, appeared to savor everything. Well, she should, Solomon thought. I’m taking her from slavery and making her a queen second only to Rebecca. She had better be grateful. Still, Solomon felt an uncanny but familiar irritation with Zeriah. He felt that rather than gratitude, she simply exuded a smug pride, as if the king were doing exactly what she would have him do. He shook the feeling off as the Levite finished the ceremony.
“You may now kiss your bride, your majesty,” the young priest said. His face looked nervous and shimmered in the torch light under a sheen of sweat.
Solomon abandoned his worries and drew the Hittite woman close, kissing her long and passionately. Solomon felt her arms massage his back. Oh, he found such pleasure and satisfaction in this woman!
He reluctantly tore himself away and turned to the two witnesses. “You may go now. Thank you.” The two witnesses desperately tried to hide their disgust for the ceremony and hurried out the room.
The Levite also bowed and departed.
Solomon smiled at Zeriah and held her hand, pulling her toward his bedchamber.
Solomon’s eyes blinked open. The early morning spring sunshine poured into his bedchamber from the balcony. The fire still burned low with embers. He lay, bare chested, in his wide bed, Zeriah curled up on his chest, her dark hair splayed across him. He gently stroked her hair as she continued to sleep.
Solomon smiled. He could hear the birds chirping outside. A perfect morning. Perhaps he would even take the day off. Solomon shut his eyes, breathing in the warm air, feeling the sun on his skin, the tenderness of this woman against him. My woman. My wife. Somehow, lost in the pleasure of the moment, he failed to hear his bedchamber door open.
Solomon’s eyes popped open as he felt the rush of air hit his body. The thick, red covers whipped off. In horror he saw Benaiah standing over him, tearing the comforter from the two, exposing their nakedness. Zeriah stirred in confusion.
“What are you doing?” Benaiah screamed.
Solomon hurriedly pulled on his robe as Zeriah moaned, pulling covers back over her and falling back into sleep.
“Captain, you are disturbing my wife,” Solomon said as he stood to his feet.
“Your wife?” Benaiah gasped, shaking his head in disbelief. “Your wife?”
“Yes, my wife!” Solomon shouted back.
Benaiah’s face turned from shock to horror. “You can’t be serious, Solomon. This can’t be happening. She is a foreigner! A slave! A Hittite!”
Solomon walked toward the fire. “She is a woman, Benaiah. And she is my wife. We were married yesterday evening. You can find the documents yourself.”
Benaiah turned around to watch his king in amazement. Solomon grabbed a log and tossed it into the embers. A single flame curled up and around the wood.
“Solomon, you are in violation of Torah! You are not allowed to marry a foreign wife. I am not even certain this is a legal marriage at all!”
Solomon picked up a long poker and stoked the log and embers. The fire began in earnest. He shrugged, looking into the flames. “She will become an Israelite in time. Won’t you dear?”
Solomon looked over his shoulder beyond his friend at Zeriah. She continued to sleep soundly, unresponsive.
Solomon chuckled. “Well, we had a late night. Everything will be fine, Benaiah. She will come around.”
“That is not what the Torah demands!” Benaiah shouted. Solomon flinched. He was afraid Benaiah would wake his sleeping bride. “The Torah specifically forbids you from marrying foreign women, Solomon! You know this. She must agree to walk in the covenant before you can marry her.”
Solomon threw down the poker. “I know what the Torah says! You do not need to tell me. I have done nothing wrong!”
Benaiah nodded. “Nothing wrong? And that is why you made a covenant with this woman in secret? That is why no one knows of this . . . marriage? Is this how an innocent man conducts himself?”
“I knew what kind of pain you would cause me if I announced it,” Solomon said, striding back to the bed. “That is why I kept it quiet.”
“You have a taken a strange wife, Solomon. If she is not an Israelite, you are in sin. Is it a light thing for you to join yourself to a harlot?”
Solomon stroked the hair of his bride and looked up, his face pale. “I have heard enough. You may leave now.”
“Oh, no you don’t!” Benaiah advanced, his voice louder. “You can’t simply throw away our laws and expect your closest friends and advisors to just idly pretend nothing has happened. I will not--”
“That is enough!” Solomon hissed. Benaiah paused. The two men stared at each other, the tension tightening between them. The log crackled and popped.
“Captain Benaiah, you shall no longer address me as Solomon. I am to be addressed as king. Furthermore, you are dismissed from the court until further notice. You are assigned as a prelate to the province of Shinar. You will depart immediately and not return to Jerusalem until summoned. Understood?”
Benaiah sucked in his breath and then let it out. He looked very tired. He raised his hands in surrender. “Very well, king. If this is how you wish to deal with me, so be it. But I assure you, others may not be as benevolent toward you as I. And dismissing me will by no means dismiss your violation of Torah.”
Solomon turned back to the sleeping Zeriah. “You may leave now. Do not show your face in my court until I summon you.”
Benaiah bowed before leaving the room.
Captain Benaiah rode his white horse up the hill. He turned around in the bright noonday sun, taking once last glance at the beautiful Jerusalem before departing. I wonder if I shall ever see her again, he thought sadly. He loved this city. So very much.
A form riding hard on a brown horse raced up the hill toward him. Benaiah recognized Rebecca’s thick fur cloak. As she approached, she pulled her cloak back, revealing a face lined with concern.
“Benaiah, where are you off to? Someone said you were leaving Jerusalem permanently.”
“I have been assigned by the king as the new prelate in Shinar, on the eastern end of Israel. I have been ordered to serve in Shinar indefinitely,” his words breathed with unspoken anger and frustration.
Rebecca shook her has in disbelief. “By the king? Why would Solomon do such a thing?”
“He doesn’t like a thorn in his conscience, I assume. Your husband has . . .” Benaiah paused, biting his lip. He searched for the words as tears rushed to his eyes. I cannot tell her. I cannot cause her such pain.
Rebecca looked down, tears in her own eyes. “I know. He has taken another wife. He warned me of it. I did not think he would do it so swiftly. Or secretly.”
Rebecca swallowed hard, not wanting Benaiah to see her cry. I’ve given Solomon over to Yah and have chosen to rely on my Lord as my husband. But who am I kidding? If I really have given him over, why do I feel such rage and jealousy? What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I rid myself of this despair?
She felt tears pushing up into her eyes the more she heard her jumbled thoughts scream in her mind. Desperate to force the tormenting thoughts away, she stared up into Benaiah’s eyes. His blue eyes looked so tender, so beautiful, so loving. This man is my only friend. But if he stays, I will fall in love with him. He must go. It is the only way. But if he leaves I will have no one! No one!
“He’s living a double life and he knows it,” Benaiah spat in disgust. “And whenever someone tries to point it out, he pushes them away. He’s not the same man I once knew.”
“I know,” Rebecca whispered, a lone tear tracing down her cheek. “We need you here, Benaiah.” Her voice quivered. “I need you here.”
Benaiah wiped her tear away. “You will have others. Caleb will be indignant when he learns of Solomon’s blatant disregard for the Torah. Joshua will be deeply concerned and won’t stay silent. I fear for your husband though. If he continues in this way, there will be those who will grow to hate him. His power and wealth will make him a tempting target. I hope he doesn’t have to defeat a coup.”
Rebecca clenched Benaiah’s arm, tears streaking her face. “You can’t leave here, Benaiah! You are the only one he truly respects. Please, let me speak with him. He ordered you away in the heat of an argument. I can conv--”
“No, my queen,” Benaiah said softly, brushing her tears with his hand. “Perhaps I should not have so violently confronted him, but he won’t soon forget our conversation. He is set in his course for the time. He does not want me within two hundred miles of Jerusalem.”
“What will I do?” Rebecca cried.
Benaiah smiled sadly and pulled his reins. “Pray like you have never prayed before. He can only go so far before YHVH Himself will intervene. Pray that it won’t come to that. I fear for your husband’s soul.”
Rebecca swallowed hard. Benaiah gave her a more hopeful smile and pulled on his reins.
“Don’t despair, my queen. I will also be in prayer. The Adversary may have won the day, but not the war. We will fight on. I will be praying for you, as well,” he looked at his horse. “Hah!” And raced off down the other side of the hill, riding hard across the plain until he could no longer see the weeping form of Rebecca atop her own steed.
Solomon sat in his dining hall. Zeriah sat to his immediate left and Rebecca sat stiffly across the table. The three ate in silence. Solomon attempted to break the ice.
“So, have you both met each other?” Solomon ventured with a smile.
Zeriah remained silent and shook her head. Rebecca continued to eat, ignoring the question.
“I would like you ladies to spend time with each other. Get to know one another. Now that you share the same husband. Perhaps you could both visit the coast tomorrow?”
Again, silence greeted his suggestion.
Solomon clapped his hands. “I will have the arrangements made. Both of you will travel to the coast for the day. I have business to complete there, anyway. It will be good for all of us.”
Rebecca looked up, her face stone. “Yes, my lord. I should take our son.”
Solomon nodded. “By all means. Yes, he should enjoy visiting the port. He’s almost ten now and has never been to the coast. If you’d like, you may even go aboard the flagship. He hasn’t ever been on the flagship, has he?”
Rebecca did not answer but returned to her meal. Zeriah smiled slyly at Solomon and continued to eat in silence. Solomon sighed and continued to work on his meal as well.
“I keep wondering,” Zeriah said. “now that my marriage week is over, how will the king decide which of us he will sleep with each night?”
Rebecca threw down her fork on her plate. Solomon looked up at her in surprise. Rebecca wiped her mouth with her dinner napkin.
“Well, that is a good question,” Solomon tapped his fork again his knuckle, amused at Zeriah’s frankness. “I may decide to draw lots . . . or perhaps alternate.”
Rebecca set her napkin down and stared at her plate. “I will remain in the palace. I have no need of sleeping with you at night anymore.”
Zeriah chuckled to herself. Solomon again looked at his wife in surprise and glanced at Zeriah. “Well, that solves that problem.”
Silence. The clank of silverware.
“I suppose, then, tomorrow,” Zeriah started again. “Rehoboam will address me as mother?”
Rebecca rose to her feet, her eyes flashing. “Absolutely not!”
Solomon stared up at his queen in mild disapproval. “Well, I don’t see why not. She is technically his mother as well.”
“I am his mother!” Rebecca hissed. “Not . . . not her.”
Solomon set his fork down and stared darkly at his wife. “You are now both his mother. I have married Zeriah, Rebecca. Whether you care to live with that reality or not. You can pretend you are not part of this family, but you will not drag our son into such an illusion. Yes, he shall address Zeriah as mother.”
Rebecca without another word departed from the room.
Zeriah smiled, continuing to eat. Solomon felt a wave of irritation at Zeriah’s smile. Was she purposefully saying things designed to hurt Rebecca? He dismissed the thoughts even as they filled his mind. No, Zeriah would not be so cruel. Still, he could not completely shake the irritation that he felt.
Zeriah walked across the hall toward the main kitchens. Several dark-skinned Hittite women emerged from the double swinging doors of the kitchen. They spotted Zeriah and hurried toward her. They all looked very dirty, wearing smudged aprons, their hair tousled and pulled back.
“Hello, my sisters,” Zeriah purred as the seven women crowded around her. They stared at her beautiful clothes in jealous awe.
“When are you going to tell Solomon about us?” Zeriah’s oldest sister asked, her face a scowl. “You’ve been married to him for almost three months now!”
The other sisters murmured in agreement.
“Patience, patience, my sisters,” Zeriah said elegantly as she looked down upon them. “In time. Solomon is a complicated man. You cannot push him too far too quickly or he will do the opposite of what you want him to do. I’ve had to tread carefully because, although I am certain he despises his first wife, he is still very protective of her. But they have drifted apart quite considerably. They hardly speak with each other anymore. It will only be a matter of time before he is ready to consider taking more wives.”
“Why not now? Why wait?” A young sister whined.
“Because, my dear Velia, patience will win us everything. Solomon is simply not ready. Not yet. He has to be made sufficiently restless. And then comes the easy part.”
“The easy part?” Her older sister asked with a raised eyebrow.
“We tempt him,” she replied slyly. “We dress you girls up and simply tempt him. I can promise you that it will be very soon.”
“It had better be,” the older sister said, her eyes narrowing. “You seem to be enjoying your role too much while your sisters suffer. Remember what this man did to our husbands and brothers!”
Zeriah sneered at her sister. “And you remember, Xyla, I am no longer a slave. Do not presume to order me around.” An invisible line of tension stretched between her eldest sister and Zeriah.
Xyla glared at her sister but remained silent. Her other six sisters fixed their eyes on Zeriah. Zeriah waved them away. “Now, off to work before we arouse any suspicion. Your chance will come soon. I promise.”
Solomon stood with Zeriah on his balcony, sipping wine. Construction of a tall golden tower now speared the sky near the emerald palace, one of his latest projects.
“You have so much gold coming from Ophir every month, I don’t know how you can use it all,” Zeriah said, giggling.
Solomon shrugged, placing his arm around her. “I haven’t run out of plans yet. We’ll find a use for it. As long as Yah continues to bring it.”
She smiled, sipping her wine, leaning in to him. She gazed at the emerald domed palace. “Rebecca hasn’t been around much, has she? Do you speak to her anymore?”
Solomon winced as he avoided looking at his first wife’s palace. “She has gone through these foolish phases before. It will pass in time. They always do. Then,” he smiled, nudging his nose against hers, “you may have to learn to share me.”
Zeriah frowned. “I don’t like Rebecca.”
Solomon laughed. “Oh, come on. She’s not that bad.”
“Do you still love her?” She pressed, her eyes intent.
Solomon hesitated and then shrugged as if trying to make the subject sound unimportant to him. “I don’t know. I hardly know her anymore.”
The two stood in silence, watching the bustle of the late afternoon in downtown Jerusalem.
“I think we should hold a grand banquet,” Zeriah announced. “We have not had one since I married you.”
“I’ve been busy,” Solomon reminded her. Still, ever since marrying Zeriah and sending Benaiah off to Shinar, he had felt a burden lift and his weariness flee. His restlessness, mostly centered around his wife, continued to gnaw away at him, but remained more as a background to his life than anything else.
“We should have a private banquet. Just a few, select guests. Certainly not Rebecca!”
Solomon studied his bride quizzically. “A private banquet? Whom would we invite?”
Zeriah shrugged as she smiled coyly. “Oh, I don’t know. Solomon, did you know I have seven beautiful sisters?”
Solomon cocked and eyebrow in surprise. “Really? Here as slaves?”
Zeriah nodded. “They work in the kitchens. I have spoken to them from time to time.”
“I had no idea.”
“I think we should invite my sisters. I really do miss them. We could show them what royalty is like. I know they’d very much appreciate meeting you,” Zeriah leaned close to her husband. “And they are all just as beautiful as I am.”
Solomon smiled and laughed. “Are they now? You trying to tempt me to take more wives?”
“And share you even more?” Zeriah said in mock anger. “Of course not!”
They laughed as they downed the rest of their wine. Solomon pulled Zeriah close against him. “Yes, that sounds fun. We shall have a private banquet for your sisters. I’ll make the arrangements immediately.”
