13. The queen’s eyes are bulging

Obadiah rode beside Ahab on the night the king abandoned Jezreel. The retreat confused Obadiah. He had expected Ahab to stand and fight with his army, if not at Jezreel, then on the plain near Shunem. Even by torchlight, it was easy to see that Ahab had lost his nerve. “We’ll beg mercy,” he said, “and pray that the gods turn Ben-hadad’s heart toward ransom over slaughter.”

“The gods, sir?” Obadiah asked.

Ahab said nothing. Even after the Lord of Hosts himself had singed the king’s brows with heavenly fire at Mount Carmel, Ahab refused to honor only him. The more gods the better, Jezebel believed and, sadly, so Ahab believed as well.

*

Ben-hadad surrounded Samaria, deploying his armies on the high ground that overlooked the crease that ran east to west from the Plain of Sharon to Tirzah. Mounted bowmen arrived first, then foot soldiers and chariots, then equipment, ammunition and supplies. Siege machines were brought up last. Every maneuver went unopposed.

At the palace in Samaria, one of Ahab’s spies reported. “Once all his men and equipment were in place, Ben-hadad and his kings set up tents flying the many-colored banners of their coalition. They drink and carouse even now as if Samaria has already fallen.”

“How did you manage to learn this?” Ahab asked his trusted man.

“I wandered into their camp, O king, as if ignorant,” he said. “They captured me, beat me and took me up to ask questions.”

“And you told them…?”

“The truth, O king,” the spy said, “that Ahab is a mighty warrior.”

Ahab nodded, pleased with that. “And what more have you learned?” he asked.

“Ben-hadad’s headquarters is a city in itself,” he said, “positioned upon the plateau beyond the southern notch. His canopy sits highest among the others, its flaps raised to allow air to pass. I saw servers, concubines, wine casks and long tables set with unclean food.”

“Drinking and singing you say?”

“And nakedness and gluttony,” the spy said, “like in Samaria during the spring.”

“How can I be sure,” the king asked, “that you, having seen such splendor, have not turned against me and stand here secretly representing my enemy?”

“Your man testifies to depravity, O king,” Obadiah said, “not splendor.” He called the spy forward and examined him. “He is thoroughly striped, sir,” Obadiah said. “His nails bleed even now. His joints are swollen. He’s bruised and raw.”

That seemed to satisfy Ahab. After the spy finished his report, the king ordered everyone, save Obadiah, out of the room. “Jezebel will come shortly demanding details,” Ahab said, “and I don’t want to face her alone.”

Never had Obadiah seen the king so uncertain and distressed. When Jezebel learned that Ben-hadad had demanded all Ahab’s gold, silver, wives and children and that Ahab considered giving in, she exploded. “You should have sent the messenger back to Hadad scourged and naked,” she yelled at the king of Israel, “with his escorts’ heads in a sack.”

“Woman, have you not absorbed the magnitude of our problem?” Ahab asked. “Have you not observed, sitting at your little latticed window, that there is an unprecedented horde assembled against us in the hills?”

“I’ve observed your stuttering like a coward,” Jezebel said, “while a foreign king…”

“Thirty-two kings, lady,” Ahab shouted, “beside the great king, Ben-hadad. This is no raiding party. These are not rabble blown in from the east. If this negotiation goes as I fear, you could find yourself among those handed over to Hadad for service in his harem.”

When Jezebel licked her lips and purred, Ahab grabbed her throat. When she refused to so much as flinch, he squeezed still harder.

Obadiah cleared his throat. “The queen’s eyes are bulging, sire,” he said. “Will you choke her to death now and cause us still more problems?”

Even as he awaited Ahab’s answer, Obadiah marveled at Jezebel’s will. While her delicate white neck remained clasped in Ahab’s enormous hand, Jezebel looked back at the king without panic, never blinking.

“What of her father, king of Tyre, sir?” Obadiah asked. “You will not be able to keep a thing like his daughter’s murder from him.”

Ahab nodded a bit but held his grip. “Look at her, Obadiah,” he said, “pop-eyed and breathless but too proud to glance away. Such is a witch’s makeup.” He added a quick, violent twist that set the queen’s head hard against one shoulder. “Still no emotion, my sweet lady?” Ahab asked. “Not even a whimper as I squeeze your life away?”

Jezebel, never blinking, continued to meet Ahab’s eyes.

“One quick snap,” the king sighed, still holding tight. “That would be something.” He smiled a little while considering it. “I ask you, Obadiah, what man in all the world deserves to be cursed by the likes of a shrew like this?”

“That would be the man,” Obadiah said, “who took her for his bride.”

Somehow, Jezebel managed to laugh.

“I have killed men for less,” Ahab snapped, “recall that you address your king.”

“Then, I pray, sir,” Obadiah said, “behave now like my king, not a madman, and do not commit murder while I watch.”

Ahab released her. Jezebel threw her head back, drew breath then let out a shrill warble that Obadiah feared he might hear forever in his dreams. “Never attempt such a thing again,” the queen shouted, “unless you intend to finish it, coward.” She spit at Ahab then at Obadiah, too, though he had likely saved her life. “Try again and fail,” she hissed, “and you will surely die.”

“She would use poison,” Ahab whispered after Jezebel had left the room, “or apply some curse against me or cast some evil spell. Do you doubt me?”

“We have a more pressing problem now, sir,” Obadiah said. “The king of Aram and his host are at Samaria’s gates.”