The King’s Daughterby Tala Bar |
Table of Contents Synopsis Chapter 12, part 1 appears in this issue. |
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Chapter Twelve: The Last Sacrifice
part 2 of 3 |
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Many times I reflected that perhaps BatSheva was really the one woman to whom David was attached more than to any other; it might have been her simple origin, as well as her simple nature, which was closer to him than all the princesses, priestesses, chiefs’ daughters and wise strong women of whom he tired so quickly.
One of those strong women was Avigyil, who had been the wife of an Israelite chiftain — so many other men’s wives David had taken to himself! She had much wisdom and understanding of life, and it was she who always tried to make peace amongst the women, when Maakha called BatSehva ‘whore’, and the latter returned with an accurate description of the former’s appearance. There was some basis for Maakha’s accusation of BatSheva, although not literally; but it was well known that men’s support and liking for her had continually granted her strength, while women were usually more her enemies than friends.
Avigyil never wished to see her son Dani’el on the throne. With much help from his mother, David’s second son managed to release himself from his father’s influence; he married a simple woman and lived his life outside the court, and sometimes David allowed his mother to visit her grandchildren; luckily for them, no one had any doubt that they had no royal pretenses. Avigyil would prefer to go herself and live with her son’s family outside the King’s house, when she no longer hoped for a sign of love from David. She was sorry for not being able to get his permission to do so, but David was not the man to let go of something he had, certainly not to release any of his wives. Even Yonatan’s son Meribaal, the last of Sha’ul’s house left alive except myself, was forced to live under his roof and his watchful eyes.
In the midst of arguments and rows, Haggit’s squeaking voice could be heard occasionally, “But my Adoniya has a good chance of becoming King after David...”
She was a small, humble woman, who used to back away when Maakha and BatSehva stormed at her words. At once, she would retreat to her corner, and only the interference of Avigyil, and of big, heavy Egla, would save her from the others’ claws.
These were the times when I was more than ever glad I had never borne David a son, and was not pushed reluctantly into the battle of inheritance. The hate prevalent in the Women’s house burned so high at times, that even Tamar, on her occasional visits to me, would be a target to Maakha’s shouting bouts. My daughter was too indifferent to these attacks to take much notice of them, but the two of us would enclose ourselves in my room, away from the quarreling rivals.
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When on my own, I took no more interest in the goings on in the Women’s house, preferring to be left to myself and my meditations. At such times, I recalled my grandmother’s tales of ancient times, and how the Goddess never wished for sacrifices; often the thought would cross my mind, How can human beings understand the works of divinity?
Ashtoret, Maakha used to say, is the Goddess of Plenty. She is Mother Earth in her physical body, giving birth to all living creatures, while also burying them when they die to bring them back to life again. She is the mother of the whole world, and human beings love her as such; but she is also the Queen of Heaven as seen in the face of the moon, which is the spiritual aspect of the Goddess. It is the Moon soul which supplies the life-giving water to revive the Earth, and that is why people raise their eyes to the Moon to ask for a blessing from heaven. Ashtoret is also the Queen of She’ol, or Underworld, who takes in the souls of the dead, nurtures them, teaching them her wisdom, and lets them be born again in their right time. That is the basic character of the Goddess, the divinity that fills my whole world.
But the people who live in the desert have a very different picture of the world. There, the clear sky does not drop rain, and the earth is sand and rocks where nothing grows; so, what should the people of the desert have to do with Ashtoret, the mother of growth and withering? All they know is the Spirit of the Desert, which is a capricious wind driving burning dust in front of it and dragging a train of thick dust clouds behind it. All they know is Yhwh, the fearful spirit dwelling in that wind, whose howl is the only sound which is able to pronounce his True Name.
What is, then, the right faith, which should be able to strengthen the heart of any human being? And what is the right ritual to express that faith? I am getting too confused by all these thoughts; I had better go back to the story of Avshalem.
When David realized that his son’s supporters came mainly from among Ashtoret’s believers, the war changed its character: it was no longer a political struggle between father and his rebellious son but a religious battle between the worshipers of Yhwh and Ashtoret.
* * *
At last, we received the news that Yo’av’s relentless chase had paid off; he had caught Avshalem. As was Yo’av’s ‘holy’ custom, he organized on the spot his victim’s ritualistic sacrifice: he tied Avshalem’s long hair to the branches of a huge terebinth tree, sacred to Ashtoret; he put David’s son on the back of a mule and tied him down, then frightened and drove the beast away. Avshalem’s body was torn to pieces, and in his sacrifice he symbolized the Goddess’s rule over the four corners of the world — at least in the eyes of Ashtoret’s worshipers. They were highly satisfied by that sacrifice, which came after he had coupled with Tamar, the Goddess’s priestess, even though it was against her will.
The meaning of the actual act was more important to the people, who had lost all understanding of the ritual than its circumstances. Although Avshalem had never actually become King, he had made himself a most fitting victim for Ashtoret. His sacrifice, in fact, explained his very name, which means “Father Shalem.”
That action, however, meant no good to anyone. The death of Avshalem, though it released the King from an immediate threat, did nothing to prolong the duration of his own life, nor gave him much pleasure.
David returned from Avshalem’s chase, not crowned with victory but broken in his heart. For many days he lay on his bed like dead, even after they had put Avishag next to him to warm up his body. For the first time in his life David did not react at all to the charms of a beautiful woman. He had long lost his potency, and for many years had not sired a child; but for the first time he took no initiative, no interest at all, let the woman do what she wanted with him.
When at last he recovered from that apathy, he recalled again the way Avshalem had died; it was then that he issued an edict replacing human sacrifice with an animal. From Ashtoret’s point of view, that action had no value at all, for animals have even less choice in the matter than human beings. Still, for David, political values were of immensely more importance than religious ones.
III
When Avshalem’s mother received the news of his death, she lost her sanity. For many days she walked about like mad, her hair and clothes disheveled, looking for her son in places where he had never set foot.
Others in the Women’s house were distressed when rumor reached it that David was on the point of death. The battle for inheritance broke with all its strength. Incessant rows flared up again among the mothers of David’s sons. In the end, two clear camps appeared: Those who disliked BatSheva enough to prefer Haggit and support her son Adoniya for King, and those who were disgusted with Adoniya and liked Yedidya well enough to support BatSheva, whom no woman loved.
The task of choosing his potential successors fell on David himself, a job that did not suit either his nature or his wishes. He loved neither of the two sons who were candidates for kingship; he was revolted with Adoniya’s coarseness, but he envied Yedidya’s cleverness. David always appreciated, even adored, strong, brave men; but competitors more clever than himself he did not like at all. If he had known that was what Yedidya would become, he would have never given BatSheva his promise to make him King after him.
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The story of that promise deserves to be included in the Tales of Thousand and One Nights. Some said that the King had seen BatSheva washing on the roof of her house; others claimed that David and BatSheva had known and loved each other from childhood. Some people declared that BatSheva had originated from Yhwh’s priests at Shiloh, others that she belonged to an old Yerushalmite family, daughter of a Yevusite priestess.
The truth, which I heard from the woman herself at a moment of distracted heart-pouring, was that BatSheva came from a simple family of old Yerushalem from before its capture by David. Let us not forget that her first husband was a Hittite (she was another of David’s wives taken from an existing husband).
She was a beautiful woman and still is. Her face is small, rounded like a ripe pear; sometimes it is half-hidden by her black scattered hair, sometimes shown clear when she gathers her hair on top of her head, like a crown. Her eyes are almond-shaped, dark brown and soft like a gazelle’s, peering from behind lowered long-lashes lids; her nose is small and straight, her mouth rather large and her lips full and moist. Her body had retained its youthful shape even after a few births, with its full rounded breasts and hips and a narrow waist. Being aware of her beauty, an artist of a captivating grace, she knows how to paint her eyes and color her mouth and brows, anoint her arms with scented oil — she knows the right perfume for every event and festival.
According to her own story, BatSheva met David by chance in Ashtoret’s temple at the Circle of Arawna the Yevusite, on one of his rare visits there. BatSheva had come to pray to the Goddess for the life of her husband Uriya, who was a soldier in David’s army and served most of the time on the battlefields. The Temple was a suitable place for women living for a long time apart from their husbands, to satisfy their needs anonymously with men coming to make their Love offering to the Goddess, without drawing attention to their action. David was immediately drawn to her attractive appearance, and they brought their combined offering to Ashtoret...
Afterwards, the King arranged the sacrifice of Uriya at the Midsummer festival, and the next spring David took BatSheva as his Sacred Bride. For a few years running he used her for that part before sending her at last to the Women’s house; and even then, he would occasionally send to bring her to his bed for a night or two, outside his usual arrangements.
Copyright © 2005 by Tala Bar
