In the Shadow of Jezebel (29 page)

But Jehoiada didn’t show the skepticism she’d expected. Angst, dread—maybe even fear—crossed his handsome face. He exchanged a glance with Zabad. “I want more guards atop the walls around the inner and outer courts. And double the guards near the entrance to the Holy Place. Obviously these tongs will never again be a sacred instrument before the Lord, but I don’t want to take a chance that—”

“And Ima’s been bribing Temple guards.” Sheba blurted the awful truth. There was no easy way to say it.

Zabad’s face flushed crimson. “I don’t believe it. Did she give you names?” Without waiting for her answer, he turned to Jehoiada. “I’ll kill them myself if I find out who they are.”

Jehoiada steadied his breathing, noticeably working to control his temper. “Hazi told me there were spies in the Temple, but he was supposed to remove them. We can’t rely on help from him regardless. Athaliah tried to bribe a guard before, but the loyalty on Temple grounds prevailed. How did she succeed this time?” His voice grew louder, demanding.

“It’s my fault her bribery succeeded this time.” Her throat nearly closed, her voice a whisper, and her inner trembling had returned. “Because I’m weak, you had to care for me and neglect your duties. Your absence caused resentment among the priests and Levites, making them more willing to betray you.”

“They’re not betraying me, they’re betraying
Yahweh
!” He bolted to his feet, neck veins bulging, face crimson as he paced the tiny chamber. “Zabad, you will find the traitors and strip them of their duties. Do you hear me?”

Sheba hugged her knees to her chest, rocking on the couch, shaking uncontrollably. “I’m sorry, Jehoiada. I’m so sorry. So sorry.” Though it was barely a whisper, her husband heard and the chief gatekeeper bowed his head. Was even Zabad angry with her?

Jehoiada glanced at her and fell to his knees again. He tried to cradle her cheeks, but she turned away, ashamed. “It’s my fault, Jehoiada. You have every right to be angry with me.”

“I’m not angry with
you
, Jehosheba.” He tilted her chin to meet his gaze.

When she glimpsed his expression, she saw only love. How? “How can you love me?” The words escaped without permission.

“My love for you is unshakable, and you have nothing for which to be sorry.
You
didn’t offer bribes.
You
didn’t make the guards accept them.” He buried his head in her waist and drew her into a ferocious embrace. “I owe
you
an apology. My anger has always been my downfall.”

Zabad knelt beside them, his head bowed, lips moving without sound. Praying.

The thought comforted Sheba, though she still yearned to hide from the whole world. She was exhausted. Tired of fighting Ima Thaliah, defending Hazi, befriending Zibiah and Keilah. Why couldn’t she simply hide in her bedchamber all day and see only Jehoiada?

Because you’re called to a greater purpose. My
purpose.

The unspoken words accosted her. “What did you say?” Her question, spoken aloud, seemed to rouse both Zabad and Jehoiada.

“I said my anger has always been—”

“No, I heard that part. I mean . . .” Sheba glanced from one man to the other, both of whom now shared a puzzled glance. Would they think her insane if she confessed to hearing a voice?

“Are you all right?” Jehoiada sat back on his heels, studying her expression. “Did you hear something?”

Her heart hammered in her chest. Dare she admit it?

Before she could answer, a sweet smile creased her husband’s lips. “Let me tell you a story about the days before Israel had a king. Yahweh spoke in the middle of the night to a little boy named Samuel. The boy thought Eli, the high priest, was calling his name, but after Eli had sent him back to his room several times, he realized that Samuel must have been hearing Yahweh call his name.” Jehoiada reached up to touch her cheek. “I’ll ask you again, Jehosheba. Did you hear something?”

Her heart still thundered, now with wonder rather than fear. “I was feeling overwhelmed and thinking I wanted only to hide in our bedchamber, but I heard a voice say I am called to a greater purpose.”

Jehoiada chuckled, happy tears welling on his lashes. “Indeed, I believe Yahweh has spoken to you.” He kissed her palm and laid it against his cheek, sadness dimming his smile. “We must believe Yahweh’s purpose will prevail—even if you must return to the lions’ den.”

L
EVITICUS
16:1–2

The L
ORD
spoke to Moses after the death of the two sons of Aaron who died when they approached the L
ORD
. . . . “Tell your brother Aaron that he is not to come whenever he chooses into the Most Holy Place behind the curtain in front of the atonement cover on the ark, or else he will die. For I will appear in the cloud over the atonement cover.”

J
ehoiada left the northwest courtyard of the priests, satisfied that the laws for boiling this morning’s offerings were being followed to the letter.

“My lord!” Zabad’s voice rose over the rumble of the inner court, where priests tried to look busy even though sacrifices to Yahweh continued to decline. “It’s past midday, nearly time for central court. I’ll escort you to the palace if you’re ready.”

The chief gatekeeper had proven not only a loyal guardian but also a faithful friend, wise beyond his years. In the two Sabbaths since the meeting with Queen Athaliah, Jehosheba had received only one scroll from her ima, its contents inconsequential. Jehoiada was torn between relief and angst, the royal silence piquing his need for an emergency plan. What if Athaliah attacked the Temple compound? Jehosheba’s insight into palace
intrigue was invaluable, but eyes and ears
inside
the palace were essential to ensure a timely escape if a Temple attack occurred.

“I’m going to kiss my bride, and then we can go.” Jehoiada kept his tone light but communicated more with a raised brow.

Zabad fell in step and kept his voice low. “Does Jehosheba know we’ve tried to contact Obadiah and had no response?”

“Yes, and she still thinks Hazi might change his mind and help us.” Jehoiada’s heart ached. “How do I tell her we can no longer trust the one person who’s always been her champion?”

Zabad offered a reassuring smile. “Princess Jehosheba is learning to recognize a true champion.”

Jehoiada nodded, considering his wife’s growing faith. Yahweh had indeed become her champion, more real to her since her collapse.

“I meant me, of course. I’m the champion.” Zabad puffed his chest and flexed his biceps—then dissolved into laughter. Jehoiada couldn’t help but join him.

The two hurried across the inner court. The summer sun filled the air with the sweet scent of acacia and warmed the white limestone. They stopped outside Jehoiada’s chamber, listening to the happy voices of women’s chatter.

“Seems a shame to interrupt.” Jehoiada winked at his friend.

“Whatever else Prince Hazi proves to be,” Zabad said, “I’m thankful he allowed Princess Zibiah’s continued visits. She and Keilah have been good for Jehosheba.”

Jehoiada nodded his agreement, but he knew the deeper truth. Though his wife spoke fondly of Zibiah and Keilah, she still held back, finding trust elusive. “Why do they want to be my friends?” she’d asked him last night.

Yahweh, let Jehosheba see Your love
through the lives of these good friends.

He knocked as he entered. “Shalom, ladies.” The now familiar sight of three women deftly working wool and spindle was made more precious by Jehosheba’s concentrated expression.

Her tongue peeked out the corner of her mouth, and her focus never left the spindle. “Shalom, Husband. I thought you’d be at the palace by now.” She pinched the yarn and coiled it around
her extended fingers like Jehoiada had seen the Levites wind flax and wool yarn for their sacred garments.

“You’re becoming quite good at that.”

She giggled—music to his ears. “You sound surprised.” She finally looked up, one eyebrow raised.

Zibiah and Keilah continued their work, chatting quietly, while Zabad stood watching. Jehoiada crossed the small chamber in two steps, snagged his wife’s waist, and pulled her toward a corner. “You surprise me every day, Princess Jehosheba.” After making sure the others were distracted, he stole a quick kiss. Surely the high priest should strive for some decorum.

Her cheeks flushed a lovely pink, and she whispered for only him, “Have you heard from Obadiah yet?”

“Not yet, but I hope to find him at the palace after I finish my duties at court. Have you thought of anything else I should tell him?”

She laid her head on his chest and hugged his waist. “I just wish we knew more about Ima Thaliah’s plans for him. She said nothing in the scroll, and she hasn’t invited me back to her chamber. Are you sure we shouldn’t ask in my next reply to her?”

“We’ll only respond to
her
questions. I fear if we ask questions of our own, we might inadvertently offer information, giving new arrows for her quiver.” Jehoiada kissed the top of her head. “I need to speak with Obadiah. If he’s in the palace today, Zabad and I will find him.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Please be careful. Ima wants to destroy Yahweh’s power and presence in Judah. What would keep her from destroying you?”

“Yahweh, my love.” Jehoiada kissed away her salty tears. “Yahweh is the only one who can defeat Athaliah.”

She nodded, shame shadowing her beautiful features. “I know. I’m sorry. I—”

“No apologies. We are one flesh, you and I. When I’m afraid or angry, you remind me that Yahweh is the answer—and I do the same for you.” He cupped her cheeks, wiping her tears with his thumbs. “No blame. No guilt or shame. We live and fight
with Yahweh’s strength, not our own. Now, pray that Yahweh will help me find Obadiah, for I believe he’s the only one with knowledge of that quarry—and I believe that quarry is Yahweh’s provision for our future.”

Zabad escorted Jehoiada across the Temple courts and out the Guards’ Gate, hurrying down the garden path to the palace’s Horse Gate. Jehoiada much preferred this entrance—especially when he was late for court like today—to avoid the crowds waiting in the main hall.

His weekly duties at central court provided reason to explore the ground floor of Solomon’s palace, a building six times the size of Yahweh’s Temple. Hurrying through a dimly lit hallway on the northern wall of the stables, Jehoiada and his guard emerged through a side door of the courtroom with only a smear of their stable journey clinging to his bare foot.

“Ah, I see Yahweh’s high priest decided to join us after all.” Hazi lifted a golden goblet, toasting his brother-in-law’s presence. He looked all too smug on his abba’s throne, surrounded by fawning noblemen and his arrogant cousins. The whole brood had attended both of Jehoiada’s court proceedings since Hazi and Jehosheba had met with Queen Athaliah.

Jehoiada nodded and took his seat behind a low-lying wall, pounding the scepter of Solomon, Judah’s ancient symbol of wisdom and justice, on the platform. Zabad stood in place at Jehoiada’s right shoulder, and those gathered in the Throne Hall fell silent. A wandering thought took root as Jehoiada glimpsed the golden scepter in his hand. How had it been saved from the Philistines? And another question nagged. Where had Hazi found that golden goblet?

“According to the laws of Judah set forth by our beloved King Jehoshaphat,” the royal herald announced with practiced tones, “all matters of Yahweh’s Temple are set before the high priest of Yahweh.”

The first twenty complainants filed into the courtroom.

“You may begin, sir.” Jehoiada trained his attention on the
man before him, refusing to let his suspicions of Hazi or Athaliah rob God’s people of justice.

“Your priests required me to bring a female lamb for the sacrifice, but my family is poor. We should only be required to sacrifice two doves.”

Jehoiada scratched his chin, letting the man linger under his gaze. Experience told him that liars fidget, unable to stand under the inspection of their accuser. But honest men—

“I believe the man deserves recompense from Yahweh’s priests.” Hazi’s smooth, warm voice stole every man’s attention.

With all eyes on the prince, Jehoiada had a moment to quell his fury. How dare Hazi offer a verdict on the day of the Temple’s court? Zabad’s hand landed hard on his shoulder as the silence forced the crowd’s attention back to the high priest.

Mind spinning, Jehoiada stared across the grand hall at Hazi’s pleasant smile and lifted brow. Was he anticipating Jehoiada’s answer, or did he believe he’d trapped Yahweh’s high priest? “If Prince Ahaziah would be so kind as to instruct this man on the specific requirements of the law in question, I would be willing to consider the prince’s verdict as
held by God
—Ahaziah.” His use of Hazi’s full name, weaving its meaning into his answer, drew an appreciative sigh from the crowd.

Not from Hazi. Though his smile remained, it became chiseled granite. “Please forgive me, Jehoiada. I spoke out of turn.” He addressed the crowd with the warmth and charm that drew men like bees to honey. “Though I value Yahweh and his Law far more than my reprobate abba, I will never pretend a devotion equal to my saba Jehoshaphat.” He nodded in Jehoiada’s direction, his hard stare communicating what his words couldn’t. Hazi was wholly committed to his ima’s purpose.

The first plaintiff got his lamb, and the proceedings continued. After the last complaint was heard, Jehoiada noticed Obadiah enter the Throne Hall, bow to the prince, and then shuffle toward Jehoiada. If the old nobleman hadn’t seemed so frail, Jehoiada might have been more pleased to see him.

“We must speak quickly,” Obadiah whispered. “Queen Athaliah has assigned me the terrible task of appropriating small
Judean farms into royal lands. She’s affixing King Jehoram’s seal to the orders so the whole nation believes him the villain.”

Jehoiada’s temper flared. “But she can’t do tha—”

“Shh!” Obadiah clamped his crooked hand on Jehoiada’s shoulder. “Keep your voice down. Prince Hazi concocted some excuse to steal me from my duties. Don’t squander his efforts.”

“Hazi?” Jehoiada cast a confused glance in his brother-in-law’s direction but found the prince engaged in more fraternizing. “Where does Hazi’s allegiance lie?”

Obadiah looked as if he might throttle the high priest. “Is that why the repeated summons? Surely you can figure that out without endangering me. Hazi is a survivor who loves his wives and his sister. It’s that simple. Now, what do you want? Queen Athaliah is becoming suspicious.”

Obadiah was weary, and Jehoiada’s regrets warred with urgency. “Forgive me, Obadiah. I didn’t think about Athaliah intercepting my messages, but I need someone I can trust
inside
the palace.”

“Consider anything you send to the palace fodder for the queen. She seems to know everything.”

“Does she know about the quarry?” Jehoiada held his breath.

“Yes, but only that Jehoram hid there during the raid. She hasn’t mentioned it since.”

“How well do you know your way around the tunnels?”

An impish grin creased the old man’s face. “Like the back of my hand. Why?”

Jehoiada’s hope soared, but he kept his voice low. “They may be our only way to protect Yahweh’s sacred items if Athaliah uses the city watchmen to attack. Is there any way to tunnel directly from the quarry into a chamber on Temple grounds?”

“No need. Such a tunnel already exists.”

“What?” Jehoiada shouted.

“Shh!” Obadiah chuckled and leaned in. “When you visit the Most Holy Place as new high priest on the Day of Atonement, you will discover more than Yahweh’s presence waiting to be revealed.”

“But that’s four full moons from now.”

“I can assure you—Athaliah is conniving, but she’s also patient. She lets King Jehoram writhe in pain until Hazi wins Judah’s favor, and she steadily builds military and treasury funds to a surplus. You will not need the tunnel until after the Day of Atonement.”

Jehoiada caught sight of Zabad signaling him and Obadiah. Their conversation must have drawn suspicion. They needed to return to the Temple, but one last question grated. “If there was a tunnel in the Holy of Holies, why didn’t we save the Ark
and
King Jehoram when the Philistines raided the city?”

Obadiah’s compassionate gaze offset his urgency. “Remember that night in your chamber when I said we must move the king, but I
asked
if we could move the Ark as well? Amariah chose to move only the king. I knew he meant to keep the Ark’s tunnel secret—and it’s good we did. Jehoram told Athaliah of the quarry’s existence, but if he’d known of the Ark’s tunnel, Athaliah would have an unhindered path into the Temple compound.” He squeezed Jehoiada’s shoulder. “For now, only I know how to navigate the quarry.”

Zabad’s warnings grew bolder, capturing Obadiah’s attention again. “We can’t talk here. I’ll send word of another meeting through Lady Zibiah.” Obadiah walked away before Jehoiada could answer.

Yahweh, keep
him safe as he treads among serpents in this dark
palace.