The King’s Daughter

by Tala Bar

Table of Contents
Synopsis
Chapter 7, part 1 appears
in this issue.

Chapter 7: Yonatan

part 2 of 3

My relations with my mother were strange. She hardly had any connection to my life; I admired Ahino’am, but saw her — as much as Sha’ul had done — as a mysterious, unfathomable entity. A sort of enchanting holiness lay over her, which I could only name ‘the Spirit of Ashtoret’. When she sat on the throne at her annual wedding with the King, dressed in red and crowned with a silver diadem on her black hair, with her dark eyes surrounded with white circles and her lips blazing red, she looked quite beautiful, her whole appearance full of splendour and royalty. The strong, desperate love my father had for my mother had surrounded Ahino’am with a glowing atmosphere in my eyes.

I went to the temple alone, with only one girl and one soldier to accompany me on the way. It was a warm winter day, when the sun shines in between rainy days, and the wet soil emitting its rich scent. We did not dally on the road, I made my donkey rush forward on its thin legs, easily leading the mule which carried both soldier and maid; we reached the temple in good time before the sun started on its way down.

We were received at the temple with honor; the soldier was led to a corner in the courtyard, I and the girl were taken to one of the reception rooms, which had colorful carpets on the floor, a bed on the side, and a small worship place for Ashtoret. After a while, Ahino’am entered; she signed the girl to leave the room, leaving us alone.

Standing face to face, I was half a head taller than my mother was; as I looked down at her, her misty eyes scanned my figure from under half-closed lids. “Almost a woman,” she whispered.

* * *

She had not changed at all since I saw her closely some years before, at my brother’s sacrificial ceremony. I found myself wondering about her, perhaps for the first time in my life. She seemed ageless; as I was on the point of telling her about my love, I suddenly thought about hers, about the things I did not know of her connections with men, of her lovers who were gift-bearers to Ashtoret. I heard she had had other children beside me and Ishba’al, ‘Ashtoret’s children’ who grew up at the temple — the daughters were trained to be priestesses, the boys to be holy servants. Sometimes I envied them for the closeness to my mother, which I never had.

“You have come to bring me important tidings,” Ahino’am said, inviting me to sit down beside her.

“I am going to be married,” I said.

“But Mikhal, that is impossible!”

“Why?” I was astonished at her words.

“Mikhal, you are the daughter of the King, the daughter of Ashtoret’s priestess; you are heiress to the throne and only a king can wed you. Any other man you marry is a traitor to the ruling king, because by this mere action he declares himself as such.”

I was dumbfounded, did not know what to say. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Ahino’am,” I muttered after a while. “David has no intention to be king. He only wants me as his wife.”

“Who is David?”

“Haven’t you heard of him? Yonatan brought him to play music for Sha’ul, to releave his illness. My father has almost completely recovered.”

“And where did Yonatan bring this wonderful healer from?”

“From Beit Lehem, in Yehudah.”

“Ah!”

I did not understand that ‘Ah!’

“He does not believe in Ashtoret, then?” she added.

For my life, I never knew what David believed in, nor was I interested. But I remembered hearing that the people of the tribe of Yehudah were mainly worshipers of Yhwh. “I don’t think so,” I replied honestly.

“You may be sure, my daughter,” Ahino’am announced seriously, putting a soft hand on my knee, “that you could never marry in any of Ashtoret’s temples unless your mate is crowned at the same time. And, as I said, until Sha’ul has fulfilled his destiny, that would be considered treason.”

“We don’t have to marry in an Ashtoret’s temple,” I said, daringly, “I don’t think David would want it, anyway.”

“Well!” she said, and I was not sure what she meant by it. She leaned back, looking at me as if from under a veil. “Tell me, now,” she said, softly, “about that man for whose sake you are ready to forgo your right to be Spring Bride to a crowned king.”

Telling about David was more important for me than any imaginary crowning. “He is the most wonderful creature I have ever met!” I cried, trying to overcome that distance between me and my mother; “I love him, I can’t live without him!”

“And he — he also loves you, of course?” Was there mockery in her voice? She closed her eyes, concentrating her thought. “I can see him. Green eyes, like a laughing sea; golden head like the sun — like Naaman, King and Victim... wonderful...” She opened her eyes and sighed. “He could have been a perfect Sacred King if you behaved according to the rules. And a fantastic sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice!” I panicked; “I don’t want him as a sacrifice, I want him to be my husband!”

“Indeed!” Again that mockery. “And what do you want of me? My confirmation of your marriage?”

“Yes! I want you to tell me I am doing the right thing, that I’ll be happy with him!” I almost shouted.

“Mikhal! Mikhal!” she softened toward me, “I am not a soothsayer. But come, let’s ask the Goddess, maybe the prophetess can see something about your future.”

She led me to another room, full of thick scented incense smoke. In the center was something like an altar, and a woman sitting beside it clad in black, her face painted white, her feet bare under her dress. She rose as we entered, bent her head before us. “My ladies!” She said, her voice almost as low as a man’s, its sound dim and wavering.

We sat down. “Devora, this is Mikhal, mine and Sha’ul’s daughter,” Ahino’am opened, “can you tell her anything?”

* * *

It was an unforgettable ceremony. From somewhere a bell rang, once, twice, thrice. Monotonous music filled the room, approaching and receding alternately. My eyelids grew heavy, slowly closing. Images appeared in the darkness, colorful, monstrous. Strange figures: women with heads of sheep and ibex, men crowned with horns; people growing immense eagle wings and crooked beaks, long tails trailing behind; beasts with human or fowl faces, moving ludicrously, hoofed legs shaking in the air, glowing skulls laughing silently.

A variegated mist meandered among the monsters, curling, sometimes revealing, sometimes hiding parts of bodies, limbs and faces, some of them threatening, others grotesque. They were all dancing to the music, twisting their bodies, their faces, their limbs out of all proportions. I panicked, tried to open my eyes and could not; ghosts started roaming among the monsters, a black man floating up in the air, supine, with no support. My head started swirling, fogging; at last everything went pitch black, and in the darkness it all vanished.

I opened my eyes to a clearing atmosphere, both women staring at me in wonder.

“She sees things, Ahino’am,” Devora whispered in her deep voice.

“Pity,” my mother answered, “she is going to be married.”

“I saw horrible things,” I burst into their words, “I did not understand anything. This is not what I wanted!”

“What did you want?” Asked the prophetess.

“I wanted to know something about the future, especially my future with David.”

“It isn’t good to know the future,” she answered, looking at me keenly.

“Tell her, Devora,” Ahino’am said, and I could not tell whether she approved or not, “what did you see?”

“I saw marriage,” Devora spoke slowly, deliberately, “I saw love, true love, beautiful, good. That is all I can say.”

“Ah!” I uttered a sigh of relief, my heart filled with a pleasurable sense of happiness. I jumped from my place, twined my arms around Ahino’am’s neck.

“Thank you, Mother, thank you.” I did not notice that the name of my husband was not mentioned in the prophecy.

Ahino’am held me tight for a moment, as she had never done before. Then she led me out of the Oracle room. “You shall sleep here tonight, I don’t want you to travel in the dark.”

A room was allotted for me and my maid. Tired from the events of the day, or perhaps under the influence of something that was put in the drink I had, I slept peacefully and pleasantly as I had not done for many days.

III

It has been a long time since I attached any importance to my visions. Maakha explained to me some of them, Ahino’am others; many were left with no explanation, oppressing for a while then vanishing in the mist of time. Once I thought I would lose my mind because of them, then I learned to ignore them. Some woman told me once that I could have achieved a very powerful standing if I knew how to use these visions well, but I never wished for power.

Devora’s prophecy calmed my fears, pacified the apprehensions raised by Maakha’s words. I did not know then that — as usual with prophecies — the meaning of that one was also very different from what I thought.

Again, it was Yonatan who suggested we should be married by Shemu’el, at Shiloh.

“Why Shemu’el?” I asked, resentful. I did not like the man, his faith or his cult.

“Well,” he replied, “as you do not intend to be married under the auspices of Ashtoret, it seems best that you should be married by a priest of Yhwh, rather than of any minor divinity or none at all.”

“But there are plenty of priests beside Shemu’el,” I protested; “I don’t like that man.”

“But you don’t know him!” Yonatan chided. “Anyway, that was David’s idea.”

David’s! I fell silent, unable to defy my beloved’s ideas; all I knew about Shemu’el was a collection of rumors and sayings, including Avner’s boast when he and Sha’ul had come from that fateful meeting at the Rama. In the end, I felt compelled to agree to the plan, albeit reluctantly.

A couple of weeks later, we went to Shiloh: Yonatan, David and I, with two servants who kept their distance and were not told the purpose of the trip.

* * *

The area around the road from Giv’at Sha’ul northward to Shiloh, which belongs to the tribe of Efrayim, is very fertile; the travel through terraces and valleys of small fields, vegetable gardens and fruit orchards was very pleasant. It was the beginning of spring, and although the nights were still chilly, the days were sunny and warm. The servants led a mule, which carried blankets and provisions, and we had two donkeys, which we rode in turns.

In spite of the pleasant season, I felt some distress on the way. The two men kept very much to themselves, most of the time did not let me share their conversation, which had a sense of conspiracy. In my mental loneliness I resorted for comfort to Devora’s prophecy, which I had told to no one. Still, I was happy just to be with the two people I loved most in the world (besides my father), and there was some blessing at the time in that sense of loneliness.

Shemu’el was very surprised to see us in Shiloh, which we reached towards the end of our second day on the road. It was not the custom of Sha’ul’s family to approach the fortress of Yhwh’s worship, for any purpose. When any of the people of Binyamin wanted Shemu’el, they went to see him at the Rama, which is close to Giv’at Sha’ul. The seer greeted us politely, though, asking after the King’s health.

“David is from Beit Lehem, Yehudah,” Yonatan presented his friend.

“Beit Lehem? I know Eli’av Ben Yishy there.”

“He is my elder brother,” David said, quietly proud, his green gaze sparkling from beneath his golden lashes, a light smile hovering on his pink lips. If I had not already been captured by him, I would have fallen in love with his charming modesty.

“Indeed?” The frown was almost gone from the seer’s severe face, “and what are you doing in the company of Sha’ul’s children?”

I was not sure then as I am now that a tinge of contempt was attached to the mention of Sha’ul’s name. Yonatan interfered. “David has the talent in song and music to relieve my father’s illness.”

“And in exchange, Sha’ul lets his daughter marry the son of Yehudah, worshiper of Yhwh?” I thought I espied a smile, not very pleasant, hovering on Shemu’el’s lips between his beard and moustaches.

“Hmmm,” Yonatan cleared his throat, “actually, no. Mikhal and David want to marry in secret, by Yhwh’s priest.”

Silence fell.

“Man of the golden head,” we heard suddenly the seer’s severe voice ringing in admonition, “don’t forget the sun reflects the image of the God of the Desert in full strength!”

I saw David blink. He, who hardly believed in anything but himself, suddenly saw his own image reflected in the eyes of a prophet of Yhwh. Something is happening to him, I felt, his thoughts are turning in his mind. That may have been the moment when reflections of greatness sprouted in David’s mind, which led him to distances he had never dreamed of before.

* * *

Shemu’el showed no opposition to uniting me and David in marriage. The news of the King’s illness had not escaped his ears. He might not have been glad to hear it as a man and a former friend of Sha’ul’s. But as a leader and priest of Yhwh, he must have appreciated the advantage given into the hands of the Desert god’s followers if one of them acquired a foothold inside Sha’ul’s house.

In his wisdom, Shemu’el conducted the simple ceremony in his own private room, so as not to raise the anger of any of the worshipers of Ashtoret who might hear of it. When it was over, he called his boy to take us to one of the temple’s bedrooms. Out of respect for Yhwh’s customs, he asked David and me to refrain from the consummation of our marriage as long as we were staying inside the temple’s boundaries. Three beds were spread for us on the floor, in three of the room’s corners. As I was unable to sleep in my excitement, I could see that the other two also kept apart from each other.

In the middle of the night, I noticed the door open slowly, and the boy entered softly; he approached David’s bed, raised him from his sleep and quietly they left the room.

Proceed to part 3...