The Secret Chord (15 page)

Avner stared down at the body, truly distressed. “Must the sword devour us forever?” He raised his voice in a plaintive cry. “Yoav! Your brother lies fallen. End this. Now!”

Yoav, stricken, raised his horn and winded it. The men ceased their skirmishing and put up their weapons. They gathered around Yoav, silent, as he withdrew the spear and signed for Asahel's closest friends to lift the body. They marched all night. In the morning, they buried Asahel in their father's tomb in Beit Lehem.

That futile and unwanted death did more than end a battle. It marked the shift toward forging the peace. Avner sent a messenger to David: “To whom shall the land belong? Make a pact with me and I will bring all Israel over to your side.” I was there when David received the message. I expected him to reach out and grasp the proffered crown. Instead, he made no reply at all. He lifted his chin and gazed across the crowded audience hall. As the silence stretched, there was a rustling, a clearing of throats. Men shifted their weight from foot to foot, uneasy. I noticed a bead of sweat developing on the
messenger's brow. It was he, finally, who broke the silence. “My lord king,” he said. “What reply would you have me bring to General Avner?”

David blinked and tossed his head, as if recalled from distant thoughts. He looked at the messenger as if trying to remember what errand might have brought the man before him. Then he spoke, in a clear, calm voice, the slightest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Give Avner these words: I will make a pact with you. But do not come before me unless you bring Mikhal, daughter of Shaul. Give me back my wife Mikhal.”

I was stunned, as were many of those closest to him. None of us had heard a word from him of that old matter. Later, he called me to attend him in his rooms. “What did you think of my condition?” he asked.

“You have not spoken of her these past years. I did not know you thought of her. I was surprised. But I see it is a brilliant piece of statecraft.”

“Statecraft?” He looked down into his wine cup. “How so?”

“You ascend the throne of Israel with Shaul's daughter at your side, you quiet the voices of Shaul's loyalists, and unite the northern and southern tribes at last.”

“Yes, that is what Avigail said. It was her suggestion that I do this.”

That woman's capacity for canny reckoning was a rare gift. It spoke to either a great selflessness or a great degree of security in her position. It had become apparent in recent weeks that Avigail was pregnant with the child that would be David's second born. For a woman, that is no small matter. But when Mikhal bore David a son, such a descendant would be twice royal, with a lineage that would outweigh birth order when it came time to consider the matter of succession.

I spoke the thought aloud: “Mikhal brings Shaul's blood to bind the dynasties.”

He looked up sharply. “Shaul's blood?” An expression of distaste crossed his face. “I care not for Shaul's blood. Blood of defeat and madness. I would prefer my offspring
not
have that blood.”

“Yonatan had that blood,” I said quietly.

David's face softened, the creases in his brow smoothing. “So he did.” He smiled, a sad, fond smile. “And remember how Mikhal favored him? But I forgot. You have not seen her. Well, you will see her soon enough. You, Natan, will go to Avner with the messenger, to make sure that my terms are understood, and that it is understood that they are not negotiable. Be sure to speak to Ish Boshet, also. It is proper to do so. He should be a party to what concerns his sister. In fact, to be seemly, the instruction to her should be couched as if it came from him. After you have secured his consent, I want you to go with those they send to fetch her.”

I spoke carefully, looking down at my hands. “It is many years—ten, by my reckoning—since you have seen her. She was a young girl then. She is surely much changed. In appearance, certainly. And maybe in her heart, also. Have you considered that she may have formed bonds of affection with this man Palti, after so long as his wife? There are surely children. Have you inquired?”

He stood up abruptly, pushing back his chair so that the legs scraped across the stone. “That girl risked her life for me. You think she loved another, after?” He tossed his head and gave a kind of derisive snort. He had reason to be vain, I don't say otherwise. Still, it is not an attractive quality, even in a king. “In any case, what is that to me? I care not for Palti, nor for what may or may not stand between them. The match was a greivous insult. It should never have been made, and now I have the power to unmake it.

“Bring her to me, Natan. I will set watchers on the walls.”

•   •   •

It was a hot, dusty journey from Hevron across the wadi of the Yarden to Avner's stronghold in Mahanaim. Avner received me civilly enough, as one might receive a favored page. He gave a great sigh of relief when
the messenger reported that David had accepted his offer. “So the bloodletting between our tribes can end at last,” he said. “I will bring this daughter of Shaul to him, and then I will go and rally my tribe the Benyaminites to accept David. The rest will fall into line behind us. As for this matter of the woman, Ish Boshet will not stand against it. I can answer for him.”

“Nevertheless, it is my king's wish that I consult Ish Boshet, and so I will do.”

Avner glared at me, scowling. “Will you so?” Then his frown lifted and he shrugged. “Go ahead, then. See him if you like. He will
not
stand against it.”

Avner was right: Ish Boshet could not have stood against a gust of strong wind, so thoroughly had he been cowed. He muttered that he wished David joy of his sister and would be honored by the kinship.

I was surprised, therefore, the next morning, to see Avner mounted and a troop of twenty armed men ready to escort us to the house of Palti in Gallim. They were bringing an empty litter, with curtains. At noon, when we stopped to water the mules, I came up to Avner and asked, in a low voice, if the armed escort meant that he expected difficulty. He stood up, flexing his shoulders and rubbing at the base of his thick neck, where ropes of scars knotted the flesh of an old knife wound. He gave me a look that was just this side of hostile. I imagine he did not often feel called upon to explain himself to those he considered subordinate, especially a subordinate as young as I was.

“You're supposed to be the prophet. I thought you could tell me how it's likely to go.” He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. “When a kingdom rests on it, I always expect difficulty. Then, if there is none, no blame. But if there is, well. One is prepared.” He walked off then, calling out for someone to bring him a crust of bread.

It was late afternoon when we came within sight of the township. Avner ordered that we make camp in the valley rather than proceed into the town at dusk. As the tents went up, he drew me aside. “You're
to take the message to Palti,” he said. “It's a delicate bit of business. You're quite the courtier, so I hear. You'll be able to manage it better than a rude old soldier like me.” He gave the same derisive snort of laughter. “And if anyone's going to botch it, better it be David's own boy.”

I had not been called “boy” in some time. I felt the heat rise into my face. To my chagrin, I was blushing. “I don't know why this falls to me,” I said. “You were the hand of Shaul, who made this unholy, unjust match. Surely, then, it is the place of Shaul's man to undo it?”

“‘Unholy,' ‘unjust'—I don't know how you can stand the taste of the cant in your mouth!” He turned and spat, as if to reinforce the point. “This was about power then, it's about power now. You know about power, Natan. I know you do. No one rises from farmer boy to chief adviser—oh, yes, I know about you—it was my business to know who was stiffening the spine of my opponent and taking the heart out of my king. All that high talk of ‘thrones' and ‘crowns' and ‘lines that would not fail.'” He had pitched his voice into a girlish register, in mockery of me. He dropped back into his own gruff rumble. He had a voice like a grindstone. “Powerful weapons, words like those, to wield against a man of ailing mind and waning spirit. Yes, I took the trouble to trace you to the source, to know if you were real or sham. I know all about your butchered father and your ransacked village. Must've been something to see, a child spouting all that. I know soldiers; they're a superstitious lot, always looking for signs and omens. But David's no fool. He would've smelled an obvious charlatan, so I know you must've put on quite a show. And I know this, too: no one sits, as you do, so close to a king, who does not begin to grasp how the levers of power work, and the cost of the oil that must grease them. Get you to Palti, and fetch this woman. Tell him I want her on the road an hour after sunup.”

Eved hamalek,
I thought to myself, as I toiled up the hill in the dusk. And the servant may not choose his tasks. Avner was right: better the message should come from me. I had no doubt Avner would use force,
if force were needed. Better that the threat remains at a distance, in a tent in the valley, than comes barging through the front door dressed in military greaves.

Yet there is no courtly way to break news to a man that one has come to take his wife. Palti received me with curiosity. He was a well-made man, with dark hair and a sensuous mouth. If Mikhal favored her brother, as David said, they would be a handsome couple. Word had, of course, come to him that Avner was encamped in the valley. I think he expected that I had come to ask some service of him in the negotiations between the Benyaminites and David's Yudaite forces. I began by outlining to him the news that hostilities would soon be over, that Avner had sued for peace and that David had accepted it.

“Good,” he said, pouring two cups of wine and handing me one. I took it, and drank deeply, looking for courage to say what I had to say. Palti, oblivious, was buoyed by my news. “It is time to put an end to this. Everyone knows that Ish Boshet is no king. The Benyaminites will welcome reconciliation, I am sure of it. The threats we face are become too great for one tribe alone. Gilboa showed that plain.”

“Avner will be glad of your support, and David the king will welcome it also,” I said. I drained my cup and drew a breath. “There was a condition.”

“Oh?”

“Palti, he wants his wife back.”

“Back? But he has his wives—the Carmelite widow, the Yezreelite, and we heard tell that he recently took another one, part of the treaty with the northerners, the daughter of the Geshurite king, wasn't it? But I don't see what that—”

And then, as my meaning penetrated, he put a hand out to steady himself against a pillar. “He cannot ask this. Not after ten years. What can she mean to him after all this time? We have children—the youngest is not five. All this time, and he never sent so much as a word to her. Even when her father and her brothers lay dead on the battlefield.” He was pacing now, his voice rising. “Not a word to
her in her mourning. He cannot have any feelings for her. This is pride, merely—”

“No, Palti,” I said. “Not pride. Politics. He needs this. You ask what she means to him. That marriage was his invitation into Shaul's dynasty. Now that Shaul's house is reduced, he must reclaim that place. David will be king, not just of Yudah, but of Israel, too. Shmuel foretold it. You cannot stand in the way.”

“If it is foretold, as you say, then it will come to pass whether he has Mikhal at his side or no.”

I raised a hand. “Enough. Your marriage was not valid under any law but a king's fiat. That king is now dead. Another king has spoken. Now, go to Mikhal and prepare her. Avner means to ride for Hevron an hour past sunrise. I will return then with a litter for her transport. If you have found joy in these years, be glad of it. But accept that it is over. For it is over, Palti.” I waited a beat. “One way or another.”

I let the threat hang there between us, and then I turned to see myself out. As I lifted the door bar, I glanced back. Palti had sunk down against the pillar, his head in his hands. His shoulders shook. If he, a stern man, could be felled by this news, how would Mikhal be? I dreaded the morning. As the heavy door closed behind me, I leaned against it for a moment, breathing hard.

I slept fitfully that night, listening to the grinding snores of the troops around me. At first light, I walked out and woke the men detailed as litter bearers. When we approached the house, Palti came out, dressed for the road. Behind him, walking unsteadily, supported by two maidservants, came a tall, slender figure swathed in a traveling mantle. Before the door closed behind her, I saw a boy snatch up his sister, who was reaching her hands out and wailing. The boy's own face was tear streaked. When Palti had assisted Mikhal into the litter, I placed my hand on his shoulder. He turned.

“You can't mean to go with her, Palti.”

“I mean to follow,” he said. “I mean to see the king, and beg him . . .”

“It's fruitless,” I said. “Stay here, and see to your children.” I dropped my voice. “They need one parent, at least. If you remind David of your adultery, it won't go well for you.”

“I have to try,” he said.

I shrugged. This I would leave to Avner. He was the leader of the expedition. It was for him to order Palti to stay behind.

But Avner seemed unconcerned. “The heat will get him,” he said. “Or the terrain will. He's not so young. He has no mule. I don't think he can keep up with soldiers trained to the march.” Yet as the morning wore on, and the heat rose, Palti showed no sign of faltering. Every now and then he would cry out Mikhal's name, assuring her that he followed.

At noon I went to bring bread and water to Mikhal, handing the goatskin through the curtain. She accepted the water with a trembling hand but would not take the bread. I rode my mule back to the rear of the train, where Palti staggered on, his tunic soaked through with his own sweat, his face as purple as a grape. I leaned down to speak to him. “It's not fair to her, what you are doing. She needs to reconcile herself, to prepare to meet the king. How can she do that when she hears you crying out to her? All you do here is increase her grief.”