Elijah (2 page)

Almost a year had passed before the wedding, but the months had been busy. Preparations for her move to Samaria as well as the wedding itself had made every day exciting.

It seems a long time ago
, Jezebel thought. She turned from the parapet to look at the road that approached from the northeast. She could see as far as the hills from which she had gained her first glimpse of Samaria’s white limestone walls. She had commented to Ahab how much the architecture reminded her of Phoenicia.

“Certainly,” he had answered. “Phoenician stonemasons supervised the construction.”

The only approach to Samaria was that road, which curved from the east, but the only gate was on the west wall. With a smile Jezebel recalled her surprise at seeing no gate as they approached the city. The road ran against the high north wall. The party had followed it around to the west side, there to enter the city where the hill dropped in a severe slope from the roadway. Jezebel had marveled at the military forethought of Ahab’s father, but such protection would be uppermost in the mind of a king who had gained his kingdom as a soldier.

Jezebel first felt herself to be a queen at that moment she entered the gate. Riders had gone ahead of them to announce their arrival. As the gates swung open to the royal pair, the roar of excited crowds burst into deafening cheers. A cedar-lined box affair, curtained with silk and supported by poles borne on men’s shoulders—three to each end—was ready to taxi Ahab and his bride.

An orchestra of flutes, pipes, lyres, and cymbals quickly formed in front of them, their music moving the crowd to chant psalms to Ahab. Women shouted their approval of Jezebel as she passed near enough for them to become aware of her beauty and gracefulness. Children, aided by the women, spread leaves in the path of the procession. A bandy-legged, potbellied merchant ran to the taxi to force a gift into Jezebel’s hands. It was a beautifully wrought box of perfume. She waved back at him, but he was lost in the crowd. Small children waved and shouted their hellos as the procession passed, and they giggled as Jezebel returned their waves.

The throng lined the street all the way to the palace, shouting all the way. The line closed behind them and merged in a solid mass until the press of bodies reached to the shops on each side of the street. The weak gave way to the stronger, who shoved ahead to gain yet another glimpse of their lovely new queen, and they followed with shouts until the procession disappeared through the large oak gates into the palace courtyard.

The thrill of that procession had dwarfed even the real marriage procession of a few days later, because it had marked for Jezebel her acceptance by the people of the city.
How much
, she wondered now as she looked out across the haze to the sea,
can I count on that kind of reception by all of Israel?

Jezebel had matured during the five years she had been Ahab’s wife. She had thought a great deal. She had pondered the future carefully. During those days she had come to love the Vale of Barley. It was beautiful in the springtime, and even now the water from winter rains flowed easily west, gathering the waters of smaller wadis in its lazy move to the sea. Later, the leaves and clusters of vineyards on either side of the Vale would become so thick that the light-colored earth would be obscured. Farther west, across the row of little hills, oak forests clustered in patches on the Plain of Sharon. The beauty of the Vale of Barley, though, was not the strongest reason for her love of the valley. It spoke to her. In her musings the Vale, which moved gently to the sea, came to symbolize a union of Israel and Phoenicia. Perhaps, in years to come, the union would be more than an alliance.

Jezebel had come to appreciate the bounty of the land. Israel was wealthy in food. The finest grapes and grain to come from the sweat of men’s brows came from Israel, along with wool and olive oil, dates and pomegranates, and the healing balm from the hills of Gilead. Phoenicia, with all her wealth, could grow little produce. Ethbaal was right. Israel held great possibilities for Phoenicia, and Phoenicia for Israel.
But more than that, dear father
, Jezebel thought,
our countries belong together, wed as I am wed to Ahab.

Before Jezebel turned to go, she stared briefly at a large new tomb at the foot of the hill of Samaria. She had learned to love Omri, even enough to call him father. She would miss him, but the period of mourning was over. There was work to be done. Baal must become Israel’s God if the combining of the countries was to work. Israel’s Yahweh was too weak. Melkart, the God of Power, and Asherah, the Goddess of Fertility, must capture the heart of Israel.

Her first step was to be a long conference with Ahab. The time would come at dinner tonight.

The largest room in Ahab’s palace was the banquet hall. Scores of persons gathered in the enormous, cedar-lined room for their meals. High-ranking priests, allied to various gods who had been imported along with wives chosen by Ahab or Omri for political reasons, sat discreetly aloof from cults other than their own. Jehu, Ahab’s general, and his staff, court visitors, favorites, and royalty all occupied their given places at the king’s table. Lounge couches on which the diners reclined as they ate protruded at right angles from long, low oak tables. The lounge couches were of the finest cedars of Lebanon, hand-rubbed to a glossy finish, part of an enormous wedding gift from Jezebel’s brother, Baal-azar II, who since then had succeeded his father as king of Tyre, Phoenicia’s ruling city. The couches of the royal house and of the highest priests of Yahweh were inlaid intricately with ivory.

Court servants busily plied their ways among the tables, offering breathtaking fare. Roast goose, roast gazelle, mutton, tender calf steaks, all especially prepared with fine Arabian spices, loaves of piping hot bread, fig cakes, raisins from the groves of Israel, pomegranates, olives, cheeses, saltwater fish, melons, vegetables, and the world’s finest wines were offered the diners. The tables were served in order of protocol, but even the last table served had no cause for complaint.

Jezebel had arranged for the table she shared with Ahab to be set a short space apart from the guests. Ahab knew by the arrangement that a discussion was in the offing, for by now he had learned his queen’s tactics. Nevertheless, he did not object.

Jezebel, wise in the ways of men, waited until Ahab had done with his boasting of the day’s work and of his wise decisions.
A man must talk of his exploits or he will become angry with an unlistening wife,
she thought patiently. She waited and listened carefully, for her request was too important to be refused due to bad timing.

With an ear keen to detect the proper time to change the conversation, Jezebel realized that Ahab was repeating incidents he already had explained. She shifted on the lounge chair and held her wine goblet between her hands. “Ahab, I have been reading the chronicles of Israel’s kings.”

“Really? What did you learn?” Ahab’s excitement at Jezebel’s interest in his country was apparent.

“I was reading of Jeroboam’s policies. He really was a very good king.”

“Yes,” Ahab agreed. He stroked his bushy, well-trimmed beard. “Of course, he was the man of the hour when Israel rebelled against the rule of Solomon’s son Rehoboam. It helps to have your people solidly behind you.”

“I was interested in his act of setting up places of worship in Bethel and Dan as rivals to the Temple at Jerusalem.” She feigned ignorance. “Why did he feel such a policy was necessary, Ahab?”

“He could do nothing else. The priests taught the traditional belief that only a descendant of David could be legitimate ruler over Yahweh’s people. Since Jeroboam was not a son of that house, he could hardly encourage his people to go to Jerusalem where they would hear such teaching. Also, Jeroboam wanted to break the feeling of kinship between the peoples of Israel and of Judah. He had to make the annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem unnecessary.”

Jezebel smiled. “Then,” she asked, “if people worship the same god they finally will become one people?”

Ahab glanced at her furtively, the importance of her discussion becoming apparent to him. He answered warily, “I suppose that is true.”

“Ahab, how many Israelites worship Yahweh?”

“I couldn’t say. Most of them, I think.”

“But don’t they worship other gods, too?”

“Jezebel,” Ahab said irritably, “why ask me questions when you already know the answers. Tell me what you want to say.”

“Very well. We have talked many times of the benefits both Israel and Phoenicia receive from the alliance of our countries. Would not the alliance be better sealed if our people became one?”

“No doubt that is true, and I know where you are leading me. But why should not Phoenicia accept Yahweh instead of Israel accepting Melkart?”

“Really, Ahab. There are several reasons and you know them as well as I do. Your people serve baals of every description alongside Yahweh. They have their baals of the valleys, baals of the streams, baals of trees and groves, baals of hills and mountains. Why not add Baal-Melkart to the group? He is not much different from the baals they worship now, except that he is infinitely stronger. Your people will accept him easily, but the Phoenicians never will accept your Yahweh with his austere demands.”

Ahab’s face furrowed. He wished that a priest of Yahweh could answer Jezebel for him. He agreed, though, that the priests were too narrow and the prophets impossible. Jezebel, he knew, was partly right and partly wrong, but he was not schooled in religion as she was. How could he say what was right?

“I don’t believe in making any god angry, Jezebel,” he responded, “and for myself I have strong allegiance to Yahweh. Besides, I hope someday to strengthen the relations between my country and Judah. Your plan would not help in that respect.”

“I don’t ask you or any of your people to stop their worship of Yahweh. I only ask that you allow those who wish to do so the chance to worship in a temple to Melkart.”

Ahab raised his bushy eyebrows, a flush of color coming to his neck. Carefully, he set his goblet on the table and turned to Jezebel. “You are asking my permission to build a temple to Melkart?” His voice was harsh.

Jezebel was momentarily taken back by Ahab’s directness. She raised her wineglass to her lips to gain time to think. Quickly, she decided that a straight answer would be wise. “Yes.”

Ahab put his hand to his own goblet and turned it slowly on its base. A moment passed in silence. “Why should I grant your request, Jezebel?” he finally asked.

Jezebel’s lips formed into a thin line. She answered carefully, her eyes wide and deep. “Because Melkart is strong, very strong, and he can help Israel, and . . .” She paused, leaning toward Ahab, gazing at him until her silence forced him to look at her. “. . . and you, Ahab. He can help you.”

“Yahweh can help me,” Ahab said fiercely.

“Your Yahweh has done well for you, my king.” Jezebel’s voice was soft and sincere. Her lips were moist from the wine. She leaned forward and spoke intently. “But Yahweh is a god of the hills, Ahab. Melkart is the God of Power. He can help you anywhere. And his Goddess, Asherah, can make the cattle of your land multiply, and your vineyards, and your grain fields.” As she spoke, she waved her goblet in an arc as though to take in the whole land.

Ahab chuckled. “A Phoenician goddess? What has she done to make farmlands of the mountains of Phoenicia?”

“Asherah is called by many names,” Jezebel dodged.

Ahab looked questioningly at her. “Like what?”

“Like Ishtar of Assyrian lands, Atargatis of Syria, Isis of Egypt, and Aphrodite of Mesopotamia.” She paused between each name to let the silence emphasize each one.

“All of them are the same as Asherah?”

“Only the gods know for sure, but they seem the same to me. Don’t you see, Ahab? The most powerful nations and the richest worship the Goddess of Fertility.”

Ahab, distressed at his inability to answer Jezebel and yet intrigued at the veiled promise of wealth, thought,
The affairs of state and war are nothing compared to the wit of a woman
. He shrugged his shoulders. “Who am I to talk of gods?”

“But you do believe they give their aid to men.” Jezebel stated rather than asked the question.

Ahab answered wearily, “Yes, I’m sure they do. But I am not sure how much or how little.”