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A deathly silence hung over the crowd. No one knew what to do. A loud crack of thunder split the air.
“We’re going to be killed for treason!” One man suddenly shouted. The whole crowd broke out into chaos, scattering throughout the garden.
Joab grabbed Adonijah’s shoulders. “Idiot! Why did you have to tell them?”
Adonijah shrank from the huge Joab and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I must leave here. My life is in danger.”
He twisted from Joab’s grasp and lunged off the altar. Abiathar grabbed Jonathan. “Go fetch my chariot. We must leave here immediately!” Jonathan slipped through the mud, making his way toward the outer rim of the garden.
Joab alone stood on the altar, the rain pounding into him. He could even now hear the loud shouts and singing booming from Solomon’s parade. He clenched his fists together in rage. He had come so close. If Adonijah had become king, he would have secured a powerful position in the government until his death. But he had never liked Solomon, nor his mother. He would have to spend the rest of his life bowing to a boy! He ground his teeth together and cursed. Perhaps, when things settled down again, he could still salvage the situation.
Joab jumped from the altar and hurried toward his war horse.
Adonijah had never felt so scared in all his life. Must get to the Tabernacle! My brother won’t dare touch me there! Curse Joab and curse all his foolish plans. Why did I ever listen to him? Why? As soon as his chariot had carried him to Gibeon he raced toward the Tabernacle of Moses. Shoving people aside, he pushed his way into the outer courtyard. He dove toward the Brazen Altar, grabbing the horns with both hands.
A Levite stared at Adonijah for a moment and then shook his head. “What are you doing here, son of David?”
“To beg for mercy. Solomon will not dare touch me here.”
The Levite shrugged. “Solomon is on his way even now to Gibeon.”
Adonijah felt his insides go cold. Coming here? Already? Does he know I fled here? Why else would he come? Will he cut me down at the altar?
Adonijah stared at his knuckles, burning white. Oh, Yah, please forgive me for my treachery . . . please, forgive me. Don’t let me meet the same end as Absalom or Saul. Please help me!
Only moments after his prayer, a loud shofar blast pierced the air. The rain had finally stopped and streamers of sunlight cut through the thick clouds. Adonijah shut his eyes. The shofar could mean only one thing: Solomon had arrived.
Solomon felt the weight of the golden crown on his head. He had only been king for a few hours, but already the power of his position manifested all around him. As he strode through Gibeon toward the Tabernacle of Moses, people parted before him as if he were Moses leading Israel through the Red Sea. It had been nearly three hundred years since Moses had first led Israel out of Egypt and into the promised land. Three hundred years of history and culture, and now he stood at the head of it all.
A thick, purple robe hung over his shoulders, draping him in royalty for all to see. His father had kissed him before the people and embraced his son as the new king.
Now, at the request of his father, he had quickly come to Gibeon where he would offer his first sacrifice as king.
As he approached the Tabernacle, a troubled Levite approached him. The Levite whispered to Zadok. Zadok’s face grew serious as he turned toward Solomon. “My lord and king, your brother Adonijah is at the Brazen Altar. He begs for mercy at the horns.”
Solomon caught his breath. Those were the last words he had expected to hear. He knew little of what his brother had tried to do, but he had always loved Adonijah dearly. Even if he had known the full extent of his brother’s treachery, he would have found it difficult to punish him.
Solomon turned his gaze toward Nathan. “What should I do?”
“Go and see him. Yah will guide you.”
Solomon nodded and continued toward the Tabernacle. Benaiah gave Solomon an encouraging smile.
The king’s caravan arrived moments later at their destination. Solomon walked toward the trembling Adonijah; Zadok, Nathan and Benaiah close behind.
Adonijah, his eyes squeezed shut and his back toward the king, bowed his head. “Please your Majesty, please grant mercy unto your servant, Adonijah.”
“You will face your king when you address him!” Nathan snapped.
Adonijah whimpered as he turned toward them, his hands still gripping the horns. His eyes looked red with tears, his face pale and haggard, his beautiful hair disheveled.
“What are you doing here, Adonijah?” Solomon asked quietly.
“I am here to beg mercy from you, my king,” Adonijah said shakily.
Solomon looked at his pathetic brother with pity. My dear, dear brother. How could you ever think that I would slay you now? Have I not always shown you love? My dear, dear brother. Will the baseless fear King Saul brought into this land never depart?
“What mercy I have to give, I grant to you,” Solomon said. Nathan gave a quick glance to the king. Solomon sighed and added. “However, should you ever try to take the kingdom for yourself again, you will die.”
Adonijah swallowed and nodded as he released the horns and dropped to his knees. “I am forever your servant, King Solomon.”
Solomon bowed down and kissed his brother on the forehead. “And I am yours.”
The large court of the king could easily house three thousand people. That evening, nearly twice that amount crammed into the great hall, filling every nook and cranny and overflowing into the courtyard without.
David sat on his golden throne, a scepter in his hand. He looked weak, his blonde hair pale and his gray now white. He had recovered from the chills, but now, a year later, he looked even weaker than before. Still, his blue eyes shone with his old strength. Solomon, David’s crown now atop his head, sat next to the old king, his own throne just as brilliant as his father’s.
David stood to his feet, urging the crowd to quiet. “I thank you all for coming here this evening. As you all know, my life is drawing near to a close.”
“No! No! Boo!” Came cries from the crowd. “Long live King David!”
David, smiling, again gestured the crowd to silence. “It is true. My strength is failing me and I must soon pass the way of my fathers. But, I again remind all of you of the charge I have given my son, King Solomon--” At this a huge cheer erupted and shouts of “Long live King Solomon!” echoed through the hall.
“The charge I have given him to build our Creator a Temple, a House that He may dwell in among His people,” David turned toward Solomon, his eyes filled with seriousness. The crowd became deathly still. “And, my son, remember to keep His laws and His commandments. You will prosper, if you remember this.” He turned toward the crowd, smiling. “You will all prosper if you keep His commandments!” A loud cheer went up.
“And perhaps, someday soon, the Messiah will come among us and take up His throne in the temple my son shall build for him!” Another loud cheer filled the banquet hall.
David gently lifted a horn from his belt and unstopped the top. He poured oil onto his hands and onto Solomon’s crowned head. “And let all know that I, David, anoint my son a second time, that all may know he is king over Israel!”
“Long live king Solomon!” Benaiah roared as the crowd followed his example. Benaiah sat near the thrones, exchanging a smile with Solomon.
“Now!” David turned back toward the crowd as he slipped the horn of oil into his belt. “Will you this day donate of your gold and riches to this Temple my son shall build? It would warm my heart if you do this!”
The crowd roared again and all at once men and women began shoving their way to the front, dropping their golden coins into enormous barrels set near the thrones for just such a purpose. Levites from the back began playing their harps and lyres as singers lifted their voices to the Psalms of their king.
David turned toward Solomon, his hand resting on his son’s. “You have a good and noble people to rule, Solomon. Remember to always seek your Creator. He alone can give you the wisdom to lead them.”
Solomon nodded, tears in his eyes. “But you will still rule them for many more years to come, father. I will learn from your example.”
David smiled and shook his head. “I need to speak with you this evening. Please come to my bedchamber before you retire.”
Solomon passed down the hall, torches flickering on either side. The King’s Court was now quiet, as the last of the revelers returned home. Joshua, the young guard at his father’s door, saluted King Solomon and bowed. Joshua was two years younger than Solomon and had known him since early childhood. Solomon gave Joshua a firm embrace before entering his father’s bedroom.
Solomon softly pressed open the door and entered. The fire burned low, a red glow filling the room. David lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He did not look up as Solomon entered.
“Thank you for coming, my son,” Solomon paused at the sound of David’s voice. It sounded unusually strained, very weak.
“Father?” Solomon rushed to his father’s bed. His skin looked pale, even in the red glow, and his lips had lost all color.
David smiled weakly. “I am going to die tonight, Solomon.”
Solomon shook his head, feeling his throat tighten and tears sting his eyes. “Don’t say that, father! Should I get Zadok or Nath--”
“No! No,” David whispered and squeezed his son’s hand. “I want peace when I die. And I want peace of mind. I must tell you something and you must promise me you will do as I say.”
Solomon nodded. “I will do anything you ask of me, father.”
David smiled. “Good.” He coughed and then winced. He looked so weak and frail. “Do not leave Joab, the captain of the guard, unpunished. He murdered good men and murder has always been in his heart. I never had the heart to deal with him as I should. But you must punish him, Solomon. The blood he shed must not be laid upon our house, but must fall on his head. Promise me you will punish him.”
Solomon nodded soberly. He had never liked Joab and had seen him distance himself from his father as David grew old and weak. “I will do as you ask.”
“You must also punish Shimei. He cursed me to my face long ago, but I said I would not punish him then. But as he loved cursing, so let it fall upon him. Do not let him go unpunished.”
Solomon nodded. He had never met Shimei but had heard the anger of Nathan when the man had cursed his father long ago. Nathan had demanded David to order Shimei’s execution, but David had stayed his hand. Solomon never understood why. Perhaps for pity’s sake. Solomon resolved then that he would punish Shimei but also show pity, even as his father had done.
“Son, please do not follow in the footsteps of your brothers. Of all my sons, you have the most promise. Walk as I did, love your Creator, Yah. Obey Him. Listen to His Voice. He will guide you in all things. Seek His wisdom.”
Solomon nodded, tears now streaming down his face. He could hear his father’s voice soften under the pain in his body. Solomon hugged his cold father’s body close.
It was at that moment, as the last of the embers began to die in the fire, that Solomon heard David’s last breath. His father’s chest rose, fell and never rose again. His arms fell limp and his head dropped back.
Solomon wept bitterly, cradling the old king. He would never forget his father’s face. In death, the lines seemed to fade, his beard gained color, and his lips shone red. A peace filled his face, a peace Solomon had never seen on any living man before or since.
Solomon heard the low, mournful wail of the shofar as the procession of Levite Priests carried the golden casket of David into the Tomb of the Kings. Millions of Israelites had gathered at Jerusalem, crying and singing softly in the early morning sunrise. A sharp, cold wind whipped through the throngs.
Solomon watched his mother carry a single, red rose through the procession and lay it gently on top of David’s casket. Solomon watched the rose, even as it caught the first rays of sunlight in a burst of red. He kept his eyes fixed on that rose until the Levites disappeared within the tomb bearing the body of his father.
His mother, dressed in black, approached Solomon and stood next to him, holding his hand. Solomon let the tears flow freely as Zadok and Nathan administered the funeral. Solomon had never seen a funeral with so much gold, costume, banners, fanfare and riches.
Hiram, the burly king of Lebanon, approached Solomon. He had a broad chest, broader shoulders, a thick black beard, and an eye patch across one eye. He had been a dear friend to David. He gruffly grabbed Solomon’s hand and shook it. Solomon watched his own hand swallowed in Hiram’s.
“He was a good man, your father,” Hiram growled. “Not many like him. I will miss him.”
Solomon nodded wordlessly. He had met Hiram only a few times and could not find the words to say. He simply smiled through his tears.
Hiram smiled back, his one good eye wincing at Solomon in the bright early morning sun. “But you seem like a wise young man. And you have the look of your father. I never knew your father to make a foolish decision. I’m sure choosing you as king was no exception.”
Hiram again shook Solomon’s hand and patted him on the back. “When you are ready to build that Temple your father always talked about, let me know. I’m here to help you. And who knows,” Hiram winked. “maybe I’ll even come to worship your God.”
That afternoon Solomon sat on his father’s throne for the first time. The great hall lay empty. Solomon had declared a day of fasting. He sat in the large throne, remembering his father, wishing he had never died.
A lone old man slowly walked through the hall, his long beard giving away his identity immediately: Nathan, the prophet.
Solomon watched the prophet approach and smiled weakly.
“Your kingdom has been greatly established. Even your enemies have been quick to give their allegiance to you. Not even David’s kingdom was established as firmly as this,” Nathan’s old voice carried strength in the echoing hall.
Solomon nodded as he rubbed his hand against the smooth gold of the armrest. “I still wish my father were here. He knew so much. I know so little.”
Nathan nodded. “Your father grew much in wisdom. But part of his wisdom was in selecting you. Your humble admission of knowing little is but the beginning of true understanding. Solomon, did you know why you were chosen by your father?”
Solomon shook his head.
“Because your many brothers, although they excelled in strength and wit, beauty and charisma, lacked humility. Many of them looked far more like your father than you, but everyone could see they were no David. They lacked that heart of lowliness that so endeared David to his people. But you have that heart. And it is why the people see David most of all in you.”
Solomon felt fresh tears sting his eyes. “I miss him, Nathan. So much.”
Nathan nodded, tears glistening in his own eyes. Nathan had known David better than most and the two men had formed a friendship that had spanned all their lives. “I miss him as well, my king.”
Adonijah crept through the hallway silently, his face drawn and dark, his eyes narrow. His long, black hair swept down his shoulders. He found the door he sought and knocked quietly. Joab’s deep voice rumbled from within. “Come in.”
Adonijah paused. What am I doing here? I’m a fool! Joab will only shove me into more trouble. Still . . . Solomon obviously will never harm me. Perhaps Joab has another idea to salvage our political future. Anything is better than living like this . . . shadowed by the brightness of my fool brother!
Adonijah entered. Joab’s room looked like a warrior’s armory. Huge swords and axes hung on the stone walls. Great heads of deer, boar and eagles lined his mantelpiece. Thick bear rug covered the floor. A roaring fire place cast shadows and light through the room.
Joab, in a long red robe over his leather armor, sat in a comfortable chair, a mug in one hand. Fierce and war like, he hardly ever stripped off his armor, even when not on duty.
Adonijah, his jaw set, stood before the captain of the guard. “You wanted to see me?”
Joab scratched his red beard and nodded, staring into the firelight. “I have found a way to remove Solomon and make you king.”
Adonijah gasped and then cursed. “Are you mad? Do you want to get us both killed?”
Joab laughed and swallowed deep from his mug. “You are a coward, Adonijah. But even cowards can carry out simple plans. Do you want the throne or not?”
Adonijah stiffened and felt his old jealousy return. Solomon had been king for six months and he hated him more than ever before. To think, all that power could have been mine, should have been mine!
“You are close with Solomon’s mother, Bathsheba?” Joab asked.
Adonijah shrugged. “I’ve spoken with her before. Why?”
“Because she is going to help us.”
Adonijah shook his head. “She would never betray her son.”
“We shall see. Women are easily controlled.”
Adonijah fell into a seat facing the burly captain.
“Go to Bathsheba. Ask her . . . no, beg her for Abishag’s hand in marriage.”
“Abishag?” Adonijah’s forehead crinkled in confusion.
“Remember the virgin brought from the coast to comfort your father? She is still a virgin, and a very fair one at that. Ask Bathsheba to ask Solomon to give her as a wife for you.”
Adonijah shook his head. “Why? Solomon might--”
“Solomon will not refuse any request made by his mother. He loves his mother as much as he loved his father. What she asks, he will give.”
Adonijah stared at Joab blankly. “What is your point?
Joab scowled at Adonijah. “Do I have to connect all the dots for you? If Bathsheba is made to help you convince Solomon to give you this virgin as a wife . . . then she could be made to do other things as well.”
Joab took a last swallow from his mug. “Solomon is controlled by his mother. He always has been. But if we bend her to our will, then we will control the king. This will be a test. If she is made to secure even David’s virgin for your wife, she can be made to do other things as well. Perhaps, in time, Bathsheba will grow even closer to you and make bolder requests for you before the king. Solomon will find himself handing over power to you, simply to keep his mother happy.”
Adonijah frowned. “But what if Solomon is not so easily fooled? What if he gets angry? He told me if I tried to take the kingdom again, I would die.”
Joab laughed. “Solomon could not hurt a fly. He is a mere boy in king’s clothing. David was a fool to make him king. Trust me, once you win Bathsheba, it will only be a matter of time before you force Solomon from the throne.”
Adonijah rose to his feet and nodded. “I’ll go to Bathsheba. But you had better have a way for us to quickly escape. I do not want to face Solomon again as a traitor.”
“Will you ask Solomon to give me Abishag’s hand in marriage?” Adonijah knelt at Bathsheba’s feet. “I know he will not deny anything you ask of him.”
Bathsheba frowned and shook her head. “I do not know if this is wise, Adonijah. You have women across the land to choose from. But Abishag? She was David’s companion. By taking her, you are elevating yourself to your father’s position. Solomon could take this as an offense.”
“I love her. Is that so wrong?” Adonijah asked gently.
Bathsheba’s eyes narrowed. “Do you really? I have never even seen you speak with her.”
Adonijah rose to his feet and sighed. “Of course not. If I spoke with her it might cause an even greater offense to Solomon. But I do love her. I would have her as my own. Please, ask him. I know he will not say no to you. Has he ever denied you anything you have asked of him?”
Bathsheba shook her head and frowned deeper. “No, of course not. He has always done as I asked. But, Adonijah . . . I fear what your brother may do.”
Adonijah smiled cooly. “He will not deny you. He knows David cherished you most. For his own father’s sake, he will grant your request. Please, I beg of you.”
The old woman sighed and nodded. “Alright, I will ask. But please, don’t ask me to do anything like this again.”
“Of course not,” Adonijah bowed and departed the room.
King Solomon rose from his leather chair before the fire as his mother entered the room. She smiled wearily, embracing her son.
“You look tired, mother. Are you all right?”
Bathsheba nodded as Solomon helped her sit down. “I need to ask something of you.”
Solomon sat down next to her, leaning close. “Of course, mother, anything you want. I would never deny you a request.”
Bathsheba frowned. Solomon could see the worry in her eyes.
“What is it?”
She sighed. “It is not a favor for me. I ask for someone else.”
Solomon shrugged. “It matters not. If you are asking, I will give. What is the favor?”
Bathsheba smiled and lifted her eyes to meet her sons. “Adonijah, your brother, desires to marry Abishag, the king’s virgin. Would you please allow your brother this one treasure? He has fallen very much in love with her.”
Solomon stared at his mother long and hard. His face grew silent and impassive.
Bathsheba reached up and stroked her son’s thick beard. “What is it, Solomon?”
Solomon rose from his chair. He could feel anger rising in his chest. “And what? I give Adonijah a virgin today, and what will he have you ask of me tomorrow? The whole kingdom?”
Bathsheba’s eyes widened in shock. “Solomon, I would never ask that of you.”
Solomon gritted his teeth. “But my scheming brother sees a woman he can manipulate to his own devices! That wicked fool!”
Bathsheba lowered her face, weeping.
Solomon quickly knelt down, holding his mother’s face. “Don’t cry, mother. This is not your fault. You are innocent in all this. But Nathan has warned me about Adonijah. He has long hated me and my kingship. And now he has plotted to once again take the kingdom. He asked you to request of me this woman. He knew that if you succeeded in this, he would be able to use you to ask anything from me. And the more I gave in to your requests, the more I would be handing power to Adonijah.”
Bathsheba shook her head. “He swore to me he would never ask me to do this again.”
Solomon’s eyes softened as he kissed his mother’s forehead. “Adonijah is a liar, mother. And he has even forced you to do something I can see you never wanted to do.”
Solomon rose to his feet. “Adonijah does not love Abishag. Adonijah loves no one but himself. Joshua!”
The guard hurried into his room.
“Go tell Benaiah to come here immediately. And take my mother to the gardens. She needs some rest and the fresh air will do her some good.”
In moments Joshua had taken Bathsheba to the gardens.
Benaiah bounded into the room, smiling through his thick, red beard. When he saw Solomon’s solemn face he grew serious at once.
“Adonijah has tried to manipulate my mother in a scheme to take away my kingdom. I suspect Joab has had a part to play in all this as well. I want you to find Adonijah and bring him to the Judgment Hall at once.”
“What are you going to do with him?” Benaiah asked.
Solomon whispered, his eyes wet with tears. “I’m going to give him his promised punishment.”
