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4 |Ethiopia 10th Century BC, 22 Years Later
“Why have you never told me of my father?”
Queen Makeda tensed, keeping her back to her son Menelik. The boy was no longer a boy. He was a man, a man who deserved the truth, no matter how disturbing, and shameful, it was.
Yet did he?
She had protected him from the truth for over twenty years. No one knew what had happened, not even her closest confidants.
It was something one simply didn’t speak of.
Yet without the truth, the apparent virgin birth had become legend within her kingdom, and Menelik revered as a great future leader who would guide his people with wisdom and the blessing of the Jewish god she now worshipped, as did many after they heard what she had been taught in Jerusalem by the boy’s father and his rabbis.
It had been this newfound faith that had helped her through the shocking discovery she was pregnant on the journey home, a fact she had kept hidden at first, but when it became impossible, had decided, stupidly she now realized, to deny any knowledge of how it had happened.
There were whispers in the corridors of the palace, of course, though none dared confront her with demands for the truth.
None except her beloved son.
“No, I haven’t spoken of him.”
Menelik rounded her chair and sat across from her. “Why is that? Is it true what they say?”
She regarded him. “And what is it they say?”
“That you were a virgin when I was born.”
She pursed her lips. “Not exactly something to ask of one’s mother, is it?”
Menelik flushed and turned his head, staring at a golden elephant that occupied the corner of the room, its tusks encrusted with jewels. “I suppose not.”
“Do you believe the stories?”
He shrugged. “If it were true, that I have no father, then that must mean my father is a god, perhaps even the Jewish god. But if that were true, if I were a demigod, then shouldn’t I feel different? Shouldn’t I have some sort of power that others don’t?”
She sighed, closing her eyes. “And if you were the son of a god, the son of God, what would you do with such power should you discover it?”
His eyes widened as he turned back toward her, her question clearly suggesting to him that his musings might indeed be true. “I would conquer our enemies, securing better lives for our people. I would protect us from those who would take what we have, and make certain our countrymen enjoyed bountiful harvests, many children, and freedom from the ravages of nature and man. I would rid our kingdom of the evil that lurks within.”
“All noble intentions. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you.”
“But do you think that power like this should be entrusted to a mere mortal?”
“What do you mean?”
She took a drink, resting her cup on the arm of her chair, swirling its contents. “It is said that evil lurks in the hearts of all men. Do you not feel it within your own?”
He shook his head vehemently. “Never!”
She eyed him. “Never?”
He flushed again. “Well, perhaps at times. But only when I’m really angry.”
“And do you forgive those that anger you?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“All the time?”
He grunted. “Usually.”
“Which means they probably didn’t truly deserve your anger, did they?”
He sighed. “Yes, mother, you’re right, of course.” He stared at her. “And your point?”
“My point is this: if you had the power of a god when you were filled with such rage, would you have used it to strike out at those you were angry with? Would you have done irreparable harm, perhaps even killed them?”
Menelik drew a long, deep breath, his chest swelling as he considered her words, his eyes widening slightly. He exhaled loudly. “I fear I might have.”
She was pleased with his admission. “So, perhaps it is best that you are not blessed with the power of a god.”
He chuckled. “I suppose not.” He eyed her. “Is this your roundabout way of telling me my father isn’t a god?”
She smiled at him. “Yes.”
He leaped to his feet, his face bright. “Then you do know who my father is?”
She steeled herself for the revelation she was finally about to reveal, her mind made up that it was at last time someone knew the truth, and if not her son, then who? “Yes.”
He rushed forward, dropping to his knees at her feet, taking her hands in his, almost knocking the cup from its perch. “Please, mother, tell me who it is!”
She drew a breath, then revealed the secret that had eaten away at her for over two decades. “King Solomon.”
He fell backward, his eyes wide, his mouth agape. “The wise one you told me of? The king of the Israelites in Jerusalem?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“But how? I mean, why? I mean…” He pushed to his feet and paced in front of her, muttering to himself before finally stopping and facing her. “Please, tell me how this could be true?”
She inhaled through her nose, her heart pounding, her palms sweaty as memories of that night, memories she had tried, and failed, to bury for so long, flooded back. Her eyes glistened and her ever faithful son noticed, returning to his knees and taking her hands.
“You don’t have to tell me, if doing so will cause you pain.”
A tear rolled down her cheek and she reached out for him, caressing his face, a face too much like his father’s, and a constant reminder of the pain and humiliation she had suffered so long ago.
A trauma that had her never taking a husband, never having another child, never enjoying the pleasures of the flesh again.
Her jaw squared and she shook her head. “No, you must know. It is time.” She took a short breath then exhaled quickly, the words spilling out rapidly before she changed her mind. “On the night before I left Jerusalem, King Solomon tricked me into an oath that I was forced to break due to his treachery, and he then raped me.”
Menelik’s nostrils flared and his eyes shot wide as his entire body clenched with anger, his chest heaving at her words. “My father took…he took your…” He stood, growling with anger, his fists clenched as he resumed pacing. He punched his palm then stopped. “I’m going to kill him.”
She wiped the tears from her face, shaking her head. “No, that could lead to war.”
“I don’t care. He must pay for what he has done.”
She rose, reaching out and taking his clenched fists in hers. “It has been over twenty years. He may be dead.”
“Word would have reached us.”
She frowned, for the boy was right.
“I want to meet him. To tell him that I know what he has done, and that I want nothing to do with him.”
She sighed. “That is your right, of course.” She took his chin in her hand and forced him to look her in the eyes. “But you mustn’t kill him. You mustn’t start a war that could lead to the death of our people.”
He glared at her for a moment, then his shoulders slumped. “Very well. Once again, as always, you’re right.”
She smiled, patting his cheek. “You’re a smart boy.”
“I get it from you.”
If only that were true.
“When will you leave?”
“As soon as I can.”
She headed for her bedchambers. “If you are determined to meet your father, then there is something I must give you.”
Menelik followed her. “What?”
“Something that proves to Solomon who you are.” She shivered. “Something he gave me after he was done with me.”