Love’s Sacred Song (33 page)

Arielah trembled. Her heart began to pound, and she ran toward the door. “Solomon?”

Hannah was shaking wildly. “Come back. What are you doing?”

Arielah turned, determination in her voice. “I would rather address his anger than suffer his indifference.”

“Solomon?” But when Arielah reached the door, his hand no longer probed the lock. She heard footsteps. Running. Retreating. Her heart sank. She tried to open the door quickly, but the lock was bent. Her fingers slippery, hands wet with perspiration, she looked down at her palms, and a familiar chill ran up her spine. She recognized the sensation. It was her shepherd’s warning, this time accompanied by a gentle inner voice.
My hands drip with myrrh.
She examined her fingers and pondered the meaning. “Myrrh, the death spice,” she whispered.
Oh, Jehovah, what danger lies ahead?

Arielah turned back to Hannah. “Open the shiluhim basket.” Doe eyes registered only questions, and the girl seemed rooted to the bed. Arielah fairly flew to the basket at the foot of her sleeping couch and dug to the bottom. “You must send Reu to Shunem right away. He must bring Abba to Jerusalem as soon as possible.”

Hannah sat as still as the graven images on Jerusalem’s eastern hill. “Why, my lady? What are you doing?”

“I’m finding something to wear so I can follow Solomon.”

“But he must summon you first. You cannot go to the king unbidden.”

Arielah issued a sideways glance, trying not to laugh at the irony of such a statement. “Hannah, if anyone questions the king’s intent, we can show them my broken door.”

The girl’s cheeks reddened, and she climbed from the bed to help. “How will you find him?”

Arielah tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She remembered Abishag’s report about the palace official’s escort to Marah. “I believe he has gone to find Marah.”

The look in the girl’s eyes was almost as painful as Solomon’s betrayal. All innocence shattered. “No! The king would not do such a thing!”

Ignoring the girl’s protests, Arielah lifted out her old shepherd’s garb and sandals. She’d hidden these tattered treasures in her dowry chest against Ima’s wishes. “Yes, Hannah, my faithful friend. I believe he is the palace guest the guards escorted that night.”

Hannah gasped and tried to cover the sound with both hands.

“The Daughters of Jerusalem are part of a conspiracy to divide our nation,” she explained quickly, “but Marah threatens Solomon’s heart. I must try to save Solomon and then trust him to save Israel.”

“But, my lady.” Tears rolled down Hannah’s round cheeks. “You cannot go to Marah’s house. Abishag said it was in the City of David. We witnessed their hatred today in the market!”

“I’m going to find my husband, and you must do as I asked. Send Reu to Shunem. He must bring Abba to Jerusalem.” Arielah kissed the girl’s cheek. “Now, help me dress.”

Arielah donned a one-piece tunic Ima Jehosheba had woven and a dark brown cloak that shadowed her face. Her well-worn shepherd’s sandals felt as natural as bare feet, and a gentle sigh escaped as the queen became a shepherd boy who could wander unnoticed in Marah’s part of town. Hannah’s protests continued as Arielah hurried toward the door.

She left the girl standing in the middle of the chamber shivering—from fear or cold, Arielah wasn’t sure. But the surety of her purpose grew with every determined stride. Wiping sweaty palms on the thick woolen robe, she prayed,
Jehovah, guide me in the shadow of Your wings.

•
 Song of Solomon 5:6–7; 6:3 
•

[Beloved] I looked for him but did not find him. . . . The watchmen found me as they made their rounds in the city. . . . I am my lover’s and my lover is mine; he browses among the lilies.

S
lipping silently out of her chamber, Arielah left the hall of David’s women and padded down the hallway into the deserted courtyard. The guards at Solomon’s harem entrance were absent. Strange. The waning moon cast haunting shadows, and every leaf and branch threatened to reach out and grab her. She turned into the throne hall and hugged the wall, remaining under the balcony.

She noticed all the palace guards were either dozing or away from their posts.
Thank You, Jehovah!
The ease with which she was making her way past the guards seemed to confirm Jehovah’s blessing. He would lead her to Solomon.

Silently making her way along the northwest wall of the courtroom, she had only to clear the entrance hall. She peeked around the corner.
Praise Jehovah!
Nahum, the one-eyed guard, was on duty tonight. Arielah would flank the entrance hall on the man’s blind side. Her worn leather sandals made no sound on the stone walkway, and the cool night air slapped her cheeks. She rounded the corner of the fortress of Zion and prayed,
Lord, shield the eyes of the guards in the tower.

When no clatter of suspicion arose, Arielah slipped quietly into the untamed streets of the City of David. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain she’d wake every sleeping Judean. The tall stone buildings and narrow passageways blocked much of the moonlight, and she turned her ankle more than once on the uneven cobblestones.

“Solomon? Solomon, are you here?” she called out in a whisper, uncertain how to find Marah’s home. Did they display their talents with red veils and lamps like the harlots of Shunem? Her wondering soon ceased when on the extreme southeast edge of the city, she heard the bawdy voices of women calling out and men’s coarse laughter.

Staying low, her head and face shaded by the oversized cloak, she caught a glimpse of a man guarded by several attendants rounding a corner up ahead. “Solomon!” Her voice pierced the darkness before she could restrain it. But no one answered.

Arielah hurried to catch them. Again in her strangled cry, she called, “Solomon, is that you?” Finally, turning the corner, she ran headlong into two watchmen. She drew in a quick breath. “Oh, I’m sorry.” Remembering her shepherd’s disguise, she kept her eyes downcast and her face shadowed.

“Let us see your face, Queen Arielah.” A deep voice laughed, and the shepherd’s warning skittered up her spine.

Arielah looked into cold, black eyes. The guard didn’t blink, and one side of his lips curved into a wicked grin. “Oliab, the queen has come to visit us.” Another watchman offered a low, sickening chuckle.

She recognized the hairy guard from Ima Bathsheba’s house on the day of her wedding processional. “Yes, I am Queen Arielah,” she said, straightening her posture, “and I can see by your uniforms that you are city watchmen making rounds.” She was just about to expound on their duty to protect her when Shiphrah and Sherah stepped out of the shadows. All breath left her.

“So, Arielah.” Shiphrah emerged from a dark corner with two more guards. “You guessed correctly the king’s destination after you foolishly refused him.”

The Daughters of Jerusalem had finally captured Jehoshaphat’s lion of God. Before she could utter a reply, the four guards surrounded her, and Shiphrah taunted, “Didn’t you think it odd that the palace guards weren’t at their posts tonight?”

Sherah joined the mocking. “Tell us, queen of goats, have you come to join Marah in her trade? It’s the only use a Judean has for a Shulammite.”

Arielah was silent before her attackers.

“Say something!” Shiphrah’s voice became an otherworldly screech.

Arielah saw a scourge in one of the guards’ hands. It was a rebel’s weapon, illegal in the land of Israel. Those who used it intended more than punishment, they intended torture.

The other guards began to jab at the hem of Arielah’s cloak with the tips of their spears, shredding it, nicking her legs. “This doesn’t look like a queen’s robe.”

One guard grabbed her by the collar and ripped the cloak from her arms. He swung it over his head, sending up a victory whoop as he whirled her robe into the darkness. Arielah covered herself, now wearing only the seamless woven tunic in the night chill.
Protect me, Jehovah.
Her mind whirled, but she made no sound.

“Who gets the tunic when we’re done?” the guard called Oliab asked. “I’d eat roast lamb for a full moon if I took that home to my wife.” The guards bickered and bartered.

“Enough!” Sherah’s voice was shrill. “You can cast lots for the queen’s robe, but her tunic remains. I’ve paid you to kill her, not grope her. Now get on with it.”

Arielah’s eyes were pleading, but Shiphrah nodded, and the watchmen began their feast of fury. The blinding pain of the scourge hit its mark. Her mind reeled.
Oh, Lord Jehovah, help me!
Arielah waited silently for the next blow. Her quiet confidence enraged her attackers. One guard kicked her, and another brought his fists down, striking her face.

Almost like a dream, she saw sheep in a shearer’s grasp and heard the wind whisper,
Like a lamb led to the slaughter, don’t breathe a word.
She remembered the many times she’d silently endured her brothers’ torture. She remembered the quiet pastures of Shunem.

Crouching on her knees, she curled into a ball and tried to shield her head from the blows. The rod and then a kick. The strikes became indefinable. Then white-hot pain, one overpowering surge. In agony of spirit, Arielah cried out for the first time, “Jehovah, help me!”

“Let her cry out to God! If God is for her, let Him rescue her!” Shiphrah screeched.

Arielah continued the words Abba had taught her in the shepherds’ fields. “In You our abbas put their trust; they trusted and You delivered them.” Her voice became gravelly. “They cried to You and were saved; in You they trusted and were not disappointed.” She could feel herself slipping away.

The beating stopped. The night fell silent. Was she dead?

“I wash my hands of this woman, Sherah. I am innocent of her blood.” The man Oliab spoke. Arielah looked through swollen eyes. The others gazed at her as though she were an apparition. “She just recited one of King David’s songs. I know that song, Shiphrah. We’re acting out every verse.”

“What do you mean?” Shiphrah ripped the rod from one guard’s hand and brought it down across Arielah’s back. “Finish her!”

Arielah gasped. Sherah knelt and rolled her over. Shiphrah threw the rod aside and leaned over to hear her final plea.

“Daughters of Jerusalem . . .” Arielah tried to swallow but couldn’t. “When you see Solomon . . .”

Shiphrah shook her shoulders. “Arielah, what do you want us to say to Solomon?”

Solomon.
The name still thrilled her. “Tell him I am faint with love.” She smiled, then winced at the sting of it. Peering through the small slits her eyes had become, she saw the twins exchange unbelieving glances.

“How can you say that?” The awe in Sherah’s voice was unmistakable. “How can you still love him after bringing you to this?”

One of the guards stepped forward. “Leave her. We can send other Sons of Judah to collect her body later.”

Arielah felt as though she spoke in a dream. “My lover outshines ten thousand men,” she said. “His head is purest gold, his hair wavy and black as a raven.” Her passion fueled her, but her breath was leaving. “His eyes . . . doves by streams . . . washed in milk . . . like jewels. His cheeks . . . spice yielding perfume . . . lips . . . lilies dripping . . . myrrh.”

She saw the look of utter fury on Shiphrah’s face and was determined to make praise for Solomon her dying words. “His arms . . . rods of gold . . . chrysolite . . . His body . . . polished ivory . . . with sapphires . . . legs are pillars of marble . . . pure gold.” She gasped for more air—and suddenly it came. Her voice was still weak but clear. “His appearance is like Lebanon’s cedars. His mouth is sweetness itself.”

“No! I will not hear any more of this!” Sherah stood, her face twisted with anger. She tried to kick Arielah, but one of the guards stopped her. “You are dying, and Solomon is to blame!” Sherah shrieked. “He betrayed you!”

With strength only Jehovah could have given, Arielah focused on the two women, the dream gone, the pain diminished, her mind clear. “Solomon is altogether lovely. He is both my lover and my friend.”

Silence reigned for only a moment before evil found its voice. “Where has your lover gone?” Shiphrah asked, scourging Arielah with words. “Sherah and I will help you look for him. Where do you think we’ll find him?”

Arielah looked up and saw the gloating faces of her darkest nightmares. The pain in her heart now surpassed that of her body. “My lover has gone down to his garden to gather lilies.”

“Yes, shepherdess, I’m not sure you can call tonight’s Shulammite harlot a lily, but he’s certainly gathered more than his share of lilies in the last two years.” Sherah’s low laughter spat salt in Arielah’s wounds. “Did you really think a little shepherdess could satisfy a king?” Silence hung heavily in the air.

Shiphrah shoved Arielah’s shoulder. “Is she dead?”

“I am my lover’s and my lover is mine—even if he browses among the lilies.” Arielah remembered the first time she’d spoken those words to Solomon—that night at Shunem’s wall. He’d refused to stop his browsing, and tonight she gave her life for it.

“He may belong to you, Shulammite, but he still
wants
the lilies.” Sherah spit in her face, and the gentle wind carried her into unconsciousness.

The ground shuddered beneath Benaiah’s pounding feet, but he was too late. A few paces ahead, he saw his worst nightmare lived out. Four large figures scattered, and two elegant silhouettes loomed over a small bundle in the street. “Hezro, Eleazar, don’t let those men escape!”

“We’ll get them, Commander.” Benaiah’s two best men began the chase.

The Daughters of Jerusalem gasped at his arrival, instant tears and feigned concern. “We found her lying here as we were on our way back to the palace.” Shiphrah’s eyes gloated as they wept. “Those four watchmen were the king’s escort to Marah’s home.” Nodding in the direction of the escaping guards, she said, “We told them to rush to the palace to secure help for King Solomon’s northern queen.”

Benaiah shook with pent-up fury. He dare not lift his hand against them without two male witnesses. Solomon had become completely ensnared by their web of lies. “Just tell me this,” he said between clenched teeth. “Did Ahishar plan this, or should I give the Daughters of Jerusalem full credit?”

“I resent your implication,” Shiphrah said, warning in her voice. “Arielah made open threats against Judeans while in the harem, and the foreign wives hate her with equal passion. Anyone could have done this.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse us,” Sherah added, “we should return to Marah’s house to inform King Solomon that one of his wives has been injured.” Without waiting on a reply, the two turned and stalked away.

Using every measure of restraint he possessed, Benaiah let them go and knelt beside Arielah. If he’d not recognized the simple gold band she wore on her finger, he wouldn’t have identified her broken body. Wrenching sobs shook his massive shoulders. “My lady?” He placed his hand near her face. She was still breathing. “Don’t try to move, Arielah. I’ll take you home. You’re safe now.” She groaned when he slid his hands under her legs and shoulders. He’d tended men on the battlefield and could see by her injuries that she would be dead by morning.

“Benaiah?” Her whisper was full of death’s rattle.

“I’m here, Arie—my lady. I’ll take you home now to see Hannah. She’s very worried about you.” Hannah and Reu had arrived at his chamber moments ago telling of Arielah’s foolish pursuit of Solomon.

“Abba?”

“Yes.” Tears streamed down his face. “Yes, Reu has gone to get your abba.” How would he ever face Jehoshaphat? The man had asked him to protect Arielah while she was in Jerusalem.

“Solomon? Find Solo . . .” Arielah drifted in and out of consciousness, and with each glimmer of awareness, she uttered his name.

“Yes, little Arielah, I will find your Solomon.” Benaiah’s fury grew with every step. “And by everything Jehovah holds sacred, he will judge whoever did this to you.”