King Solomon's Wives: Hunted

Chapter 11: The Jealous Wife

The Jealous Wife

Sumarra

Tenth century B.C.E.

Solomon didn’t visit us for three full months, and our food rations decreased yet again. Instead of supplies, he sent servants to inspect the palace. While we grew nearly as thin as when we’d arrived in Jerusalem, his servants confiscated our idols, trinkets, and drawings, and they quoted him, as he quoted Moses, as Moses had quoted God. “You shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself an idol of anything in heaven or earth.”

They returned with no medicines or supplies, but they rechecked the temple and the main chamber for signs of altars. “You shall not bow down or worship other gods,” they quoted, “for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity of their parents, to the third and fourth generation.”

Perhaps that’s where Dilara later got the idea.

Though I loved Dilara in those days. “Sumarra,” she used to say, “You’re smart and wise, but you listen to your heart more than your head.”

“One day I’ll learn,” I always replied. I believed compassion was my flaw.

I was praying for my sisters’ health when the doors opened that day. I hid my idols and came out to see Solomon stumble drunk into the chamber. He wore his crown—as if we wouldn’t recognize him without it—and called at the top of his lungs, “Saba! Come to me!”

I was happy she didn’t come running. When her time was right, she marched into the main chamber. Her flowing robes hid her muscular figure, but her walk was strong and confident. She came right up to Solomon and slapped him.

He slouched toward her humbly, accepting his chastisement. He was a gentle man who enjoyed affection.

“What do you want?” Saba asked him. “Why have you come? And why now, after months of neglect?”

“Because I’ve missed you. Before now, I’ve been traveling and attending to other things.”

“I know what important matters you have attended to,” Saba said. “I saw her entering the city on our wedding day.”

Solomon shook his head. “She is the daughter of the great Pharaoh of Egypt. You understand the power I gained through that alliance, surely? Did you not come to me for the same sort of alliance?”

Saba stomped very close to his foot. She flung her dark hair behind her shoulders. “Egypt is nothing to the greatness of my kingdom. And yet you keep her close while you neglect your oaths to me.”

“Saba.” He spoke softly. “You gave me your kingdom, but I still don’t have hers. I must do certain things to appease her and...her father, the Pharaoh.” He took Saba’s hand and kissed it, but she pulled away.

“Then how have you gotten to come to us now?”

“She’s away. She doesn’t know. Please, let me make it up to you while I can.”

“You treat us like animals. The world believes you are faithful to your god, but you defile his name by treating your wives with disrespect.”

“Forgive me,” Solomon said. He knelt, and I liked seeing him with his head hung. “I’m here now, and we can be together this night.” He rose and kissed her cheek. He whispered things to her. Poems, probably, since he was always going on about stars and deer and the beauty of women.

Saba slapped him again. “I will not be with you as your wife until you act like a godly husband. Your wives need better living quarters, more food, and basic comforts.”