26. Lower yourself or my heart may burst

Yashar Rarely left the vineyard to enter the city but when he did, it was clear that Jezreel, having once seen him with renowned Elijah, had granted him new, undue respect. Strangers nodded hello. Troops from the garrison touched their helmets as he passed. Some merchants insisted that he accept their goods without paying but their charity was unnecessary at first. Naboth’s family had bartered well after the last harvest and left Yashar with plenty to both consume and trade. But as months passed and his store of provisions dwindled, Yashar relied more upon his wiles. The captain had given him a hunting bow and lessons. He and Juttah foraged for game in the valley as well as the southern hills.

No one visited the vineyard except for Bidkar who stopped in for frequent chats. “I have cast aside my idols,” the captain told him one night. “I burned some, broke others and buried those that remained. It was not as easy as you might think.”

“You once loved them?” Yashar asked.

“Never, nor did I honor them,” Bidkar said. “But I feared them and, to be honest, like most men I loved their rites at the change of seasons, especially the spring.”

Yashar lowered his head, embarrassed.

“It is all dead to me now, boy,” Bidkar said. “Elijah has opened my eyes. I seek to know more about the God of Israel. Jezreel’s elders are useless, mixing this and that, but there is a man in Jezreel, the prophet, Micaiah, do you know him?”

Yashar shook his head.

“Ahab put him into prison here years ago for his refusal to vomit good news. That alone proves he is worthy. I visit him nearly every day. He is cordial, in amazing good spirits and shares with me all that he knows, which is substantial.”

“What has become of Ahab?” Yashar asked.

“The king still bathes in ashes and rends his clothes,” Bidkar said. “I see him, time to time, beaten and repentant, fearing that Elijah’s curse remains upon his head.”

*

The prophet, Elijah, awoke one night in the secret place where the Lord had sent him, far from men and kings. He sat up suddenly in his solitude upon hearing these words. “Do you see how Ahab has humbled himself before me?”

Elijah nodded in the darkness, yes.

“Because he has humbled himself,” the voice continued, “I will not bring evil in his days, but in his sons’ days I will bring evil upon his house.”

Elijah nodded again, remaining alert for a time afterward hoping to hear more. When nothing more was offered he curled up again, prepared to remain alone unto eternity if that proved to be the Lord’s will. He slept, breathing peacefully. For God was just in all he did. A wise man never questioned him.

*

Obadiah awoke early one morning to a pounding at his door. After stumbling out of bed he found a trio of Jezebel’s men waiting outside for him with drawn swords. Obadiah was naturally neither proud nor prone to anger but their audacious show of weapons boiled his blood. “Lower them at once,” he said, shaking with rage. “I am the king’s own man. If you value your livelihoods, never mistake the queen’s fondness for you as license to threaten a free man in Israel.”

“The king is in Jezreel, sir,” one answered. “The queen remains here.”

“Enjoy, then, an hour or two in good health, sir,” Obadiah said.

The first of them bowed deeply. “My apologies,” he said, stepping back, “but the queen is in a state this morning. Perhaps her agitation has affected us.”

“What is your business,” Obadiah asked. “State it plainly and move on.”

“The queen said, Bring the steward, Obadiah, to my chamber now.”

“To her chamber? To her house?”

“She has demanded it.”

Obadiah stood stunned. Only the king, Jezebel’s holy men and her handpicked company of guards, all young and handsome men, had access to her quarters. In all his years of service, Obadiah had not once stepped inside.

*

They queen’s men accompanied Obadiah along the path that ran beside the garden wall onto a terrace adjoining Jezebel’s house then motioned him into the building. Obadiah obliged but refused to go farther once they arrived at the queen’s chamber door.

“I’ll wait here,” he said.

“I’m afraid that won’t do sir,” the first of them answered and, rather than force a scene that would certainly end poorly for someone, Obadiah summoned all his courage and slowly stepped inside.

*

Shadows striped the interior of the queen’s private room like at the opening of a cave. In a sort of shadowy anteroom, scores of scarves, pins and hoops hung from hooks along the walls. Farther in, faint candlelight revealed linens draped on furniture and tossed on cushions spread randomly across the floor. Obadiah stepped past them into a broader room and, when he spied Jezebel sitting beside a window, swaying left and right, he cleared his throat.

“Step up, coward,” she said.

When Obadiah approached, Jezebel bent forward at the waist and spoke in a disturbing monotone cadence. “How dare you oppose me, little man?” she said. “Reveal your schemes that hold the king in Jezreel.”

When Obadiah failed to answer, the queen began to sway more quickly. “My last warning, sir,” she said, “disclose your devices employed against my king.”

“Ahab remains in Jezreel ignoring affairs of state and doing penance,” Obadiah said. “That is all I know.”

“Penance, you say?”

“Surely, O queen,” Obadiah said, “you know more of current events than I.”

“Yet, I command you to speak.”

Obadiah seldom doubted his eyes but he blinked several times to be certain that what he saw, just then, was real. While he watched amazed, Jezebel’s entire torso rose above her cushion, suspended in the air. “Please, Lord, have mercy!” he shouted, having never seen nor dreamed of such a thing.

“I may show you mercy, old man,” Jezebel said, still floating, “or I may not, but first you must respond.”

It took all Obadiah’s strength to stand and answer. “You do not claim to be unaware, O queen,” he said, “of the fate of the vintner, Naboth, at Jezreel?”

“Unaware?” Jezebel smiled. “I arranged it. Shame on you, old man, for not being more certain of my role.”

“The king does penance,” Obadiah repeated, “after the prophet, Elijah, cursed him at the gates.”

“Elijah!” Jezebel screamed.

“But how could you not have heard, O queen?”

“Never,” Jezebel said, “say that name in my presence.”

The queen rose higher, against the laws of physics, and began to chant in an unrecognizable tongue.

“Lord, save me,” Obadiah cried.

“That is the second time, in my presence, you have called upon your god.”

“And it seems he has thus far preserved me,” said Obadiah. “O please, lady, lower yourself or my heart may burst. If I had only trusted Israel’s God and never stepped inside this pit.”

“Look at stately Obadiah now,” Jezebel laughed, “stuttering like a child,” but, mercifully, despite her entertainment, Jezebel slowly resumed her seat. “Remember this example, steward. My power far exceeds your imagination. And mind that you and all Israel will be called to account for the reckless threats spewed from Elijah’s vile mouth.”

“You have frightened me and murdered a host of prophets,” Obadiah said, “but you have not prevailed against the Lord.”

“Get out,” Jezebel hissed, “you are babbling.”

Obadiah obliged immediately, gratefully, suddenly aware of why Elijah, after defeating a corps of pagan priests, directing heavenly fire and prompting rain from Israel’s empty skies, had bolted like a frightened child from the threats of Jezebel. Once safe again in his quarters Obadiah fell to his knees to petition the Lord to save Israel (but he feared the worst).