He would know them, with Jezebel.
She had as good as promised as much, in the early hours of the dawn before they had slept together in the garden summerhouse, when the Temple was quiet, inhabited only by the bodies of four dead women. Her perfumed fingertips had toyed with his black curls while her tongue had chattered on about what their life together would be like, when he was king and she was queen in Israel. He seemed to hear her voice once again, langorous, sleepy.
“There will be no end to our delights, Ahab.”
He closed his eyes, remembering, and his body yearned for her embrace. She was so soft, so smooth of flesh, so fragrant and good to kiss. Ahab almost groaned in his want for her.
Omri growled and waved a hand at him.
“Go do your mooning somewhere else, boy. I have work to do. Aye, I’ll write this day and despatch a courier to Ithobaal.”
“The date must be soon for the marriage, father.”
Omri grinned at him. The boy was in heat to bed the wench, any fool could see. Well, let him get her out of his system as fast as possible. Then he could turn to the pursuits of kingship. Israel needed a strong man on its throne, not a lovesick youth.
He began to feel better about Jezebel.
2.
Jehu was packing his war gear.
“Not that I expect to use it in Babylon, you understand,” he said to Rael who sat and watched him in the small bedchamber which had been home to Jehu all his life. “I’m going to enjoy myself, not fight anybody.”
“You’re running away from Jezebel, that’s what you’re doing. Why don’t you admit it?”
Jehu planted his fists on his hips and glared. “If you were anyone but Rael, I’d break your nose for that. Since friends have a certain freedom with one another, I’ll permit your fatheaded comments.”
Rael grinned at him. “I wish I were coming with you.”
“Why don’t you?”
The young physician shook his head. “Ruth would have a fit. We’re to be married ourselves, next year. No, I’ll go with Ahab to Tyre and watch him take his vows. One of us ought to be with him.”
Jehu paused, his sword and scabbard in his hands. Glowering down at the inlaid copper sheath and the silvered hilt, he muttered, “I suppose you consider me a traitor?”
“Not I. Omri wants to know what makes the Assyrians such great soldiers. He has to send someone who can make a sensible report to him. You’ve been a soldier all your life. You’re a good choice.”
“You think I ought to wait, though.”
“Ahab does. He wants his friends at his back when he rides into Tyre. And yet he doesn’t want to stand in your way. This is a rare opportunity for you to see the world. He knows well enough you can’t wait until after the ceremony. It would be winter, then. No fit time for travel. Better to go now, in the good weather.”
Jehu grunted, unconvinced. Secretly he felt guilty, as though he were running from a duty. In a sense, he was; but it was a duty of friendship, not of occupation. He tossed the sword aside; he would wear it at his belt on the road, wayfaring being what it was these days, where robbers crouched behind almost every big rock. The rest of his stuff, the war mail and his shield, even his spears, he could carry in his baggage. A leather purse heavy with gold coins would hang at his belt. There would be more monies waiting for him in Babylon; Omri had made arrangements with some merchants for credit.
All in all, he ought to be happy. He would be gone a year, maybe even two. By the time he got back Jezebel would be a settled matron, perhaps with a child to keep her confined to the palace. He would be in her company very little. Time would heal the hunger in his heart for her.
Jehu was not happy. He felt like a traitor, not only to Ahab but to himself. A man should face up to his troubles, his temptations, not run away from them. He glanced at Rael from the corners of his eyes.
The young physician would stay here. He would see Jezebel every day, might be called to attend her in childbirth. In his heart he envied him for his even disposition. Rael could face up to temptation, could conquer it. He could not. Jehu had the feeling that, despite all his own muscular bulk, Rael was the stronger of the two.
A man was what he was. Jehu sighed.
“I’ll send messengers from time to time,” he said. “I’ll let you know how I’m making out.”
“Ahab is waiting to say goodbye,” Rael remarked.
Jehu swung his pack onto a shoulder. “I know, I know. Let’s go get it over with.” He did not like farewells. They smacked a little of dying to his way of thinking and a soldier faced death often enough without going about looking for it when it wasn’t necessary.
They found Ahab in the courtyard, brooding. He came to his feet at sight of his friends and forced a smile.
He would miss Jehu very much. He put his hand on Rael’s shoulder and stood beside him while Jehu had spoken and then left. At least he had one friend to stand beside him in the palace of Ithobaal when he claimed Jezebel as his wife.
Rael was thinking, Jezebel has come between the three of us already. And she is not even a bride, yet. He might have hated her, did he not lust for her so much.
3.
Jezebel stood before a toy temple, touching it with rouged fingertips. All around her was the confusion and excitement of the royal palace preparing for her wedding. She alone was calm. Her ears did not hear the wheels moving over the cobbles, bringing meat and bread for the feasting, nor the stamping feet of the dancers, the sounding balag drums, the reed pipes and flutes of the dancers and the musicians readying their entertainment for the occasion. Her every sense was occupied with the little structure resting on the ebony table before her.
“Such a temple will I build to Baal-Melkart, once I am queen in Israel,” she told her slavegirl, Alanna.
Alanna was an Elamite girl who had been born into slavery of a Hittite mother and an Elamite father. She had known no other life but the service of Jezebel and so she considered herself privileged to speak her mind upon occasion.
She said now, “Israel worships Yahweh. He dislikes graven images or so I’ve been told.”
Jezebel moved her shoulder idly. “Pooh! Did not the Habiru worship a golden calf while Moses was leading them out of Egypt? Did not Solomon permit his many wives to worship the gods they chose? And Jeroboam, when Solomon died and he took the northern kingdom for his own—did he not build temples and put golden calves in them for his people to adore?”
“Yes, but . . .”
“The Habiru have a weakness for graven images, despite what their Yahweh says. It’s a failing I mean to exploit.” Her face dimpled into a smile. “Ahab will do whatever I want him to do. He likes his pleasures, does Ahab.”
“Yes, mistress.”
Jezebel turned and regarded her thoughtfully. “I always wanted to be high priestess. My father would never permit it, though he allowed me to practice the worship of Baal in the temples almost as if I were a priestess. In Israel, there will be no one to forbid me from doing as I please.”
“There will be Ahab,” Alanna pointed out.
Jezebel