Friday, January 29, 2016

Joash - The King Who Would Not Die Chapter Seventeen



THE KING WHO WOULD NOT DIE







THE KING WHO WOULD NOT DIE

By Robert Allen
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

            Jehoiada was dead.  He had simply died in his sleep from old age.  But his death still  tremendously shocked the nation.  No one alive could even remember anyone else being the high priest.  Jehoiada had lived for one hundred and thirty years.
            The news of the high priest’s death caused Joash to hurry back to Jerusalem from Samaria along with all of his men.  Haggith stayed behind for a longer visit with Beni-baali. 
            In Jerusalem the preparations made for the celebration of the work on the temple quickly changed to include a funeral.  King Joash decided that since Jehoiada’s leadership had been so important to the nation of Judah he should be buried with the kings in the palace garden.  They prepared a place for his body alongside the tombs of David and Solomon and Jehoshaphat.  One entire day of the week-long celebration would be given over to the funeral for the high priest.
            The week passed quickly with the final day scheduled to include the greatest of all the planned events.  Early that morning Joash attended a service in the temple along with all of his invited guests as the priests of the Most High God Jehovah sacrificed one thousand sheep.  The guests included men from each of the villages in all of Judah.  Every one of them contributed sheep for the massive sacrificial honor to the Almighty.  All of the priests and all of the Levites had gathered for the celebration but it would still be late in the evening before all of the sacrifices had been completed.
            Besides the sacrifices taking place in the temple other activities continued all day.  The Levite choirmaster directed a concert featuring the psalms of David.  Accompanied by harps, flutes and trumpets they sang in the courtyard during the morning sacrifices for all those gathered for worship.  After the initial sacrifices they moved to a large room within the inner court and performed exclusively for the king and his honored guests.
            After the concert Joash and his guests proceeded out through the Western wall, across the bridge and down through the Valley Gate to where the camel trains and merchants gathered.  The smell greeting them included a mixture of fragrant teas from India boiling in little pots inside each booth and the stink of unwashed camels.  The odor of perfumes with names like “Cleopatra’s Tears,” and “Arabian Mystery,” combined with the smell of freshly slaughtered chickens.  Dogs and children ran wild and horses stirred up a constant haze of dust.  Since the women could not actually watch the sacrifices in the temple most of them along with servants and small children had been outside the wall all morning.  Jugglers held their attention by throwing colored balls into the air or, at times, silver daggers or even flaming torches.  The women haggled with merchants for carpets from Babylon, perfume from Arabia, peacock feathers from Ethiopia, spices and teas from India and brass from Egypt.
            The main attraction all week, however, had been a merchant who claimed to have traveled all the way to the edge of the earth, a place he called Cathay.
            “Strange-looking people live in Cathay,” he told those who stopped to listen.  “People with yellow skin and eyes that slant upward.  The women wear beautiful robes called kimonos made of an entirely new material that comes from worms.”
            “Lies, just lies,” the women muttered to each other.  “You can’t make cloth from worms.  Cloth comes from wool, from sheep and goats.”
            “But it’s true.  Come closer and I will show you I am telling the truth.”
            In spite of their skepticism the women crowded into his booth.  “Cloth from worms?  What a laugh.”
            Once he had their attention the merchant would unroll a bundle of leather and reveal the most beautiful yellow, red and blue material the women had ever seen.
            “So smooth.”  Those close enough to run their hands over the silk, for that is what it was, spoke in awed tones.  “Beautiful.”  The women marveled to imagine themselves in a dress made of such exquisite cloth.
            “Make way for the king,” thundered a voice behind them and the crowd scattered in every direction leaving the area in front of the Cathay merchant’s booth completely open.  Joash and his guests, attracted by the crowd, halted their chariots and horses and pushed forward to satisfy their curiosity.
            “Ahmed the merchant remains your most humble servant oh king of kings.”  The squirrely little world traveler spoke in a raspy tone sounding like the rough sand through which he had traveled.  “Allow me to serve you my best spice tea from the mystic shores of India while you gaze your noble eyes on the finest merchandise in the entire world.”
            Ahmed clapped twice and suddenly twenty young men appeared.  Each carried a low stool which the placed in a semi-circle around the merchant for the comfort of the guests.  In the middle of the half ring formed by the stools two young girls, swathed from head to foot in heavy black robes, their faces covered with black veils, rolled out a beautiful blue, green and gold Persian carpet.  In the very center of the carpet a small boy placed a bright red pillow at least three feet thick.  Ahmed bowed low and invited the king to take the place of honor on the pillow.
            “Thank you Ahmed.  Thank you.  Now, may I see this beautiful cloth which you say has been made from worms.”  The king lifted a small cup of fragrant tea to his lips and sat down on the red pillow in the center of all his guests.
            “In good time,” said the merchant.  “First of all everyone must have their tea.”  The young men appeared again with a cup of tea served on a brass platter for each guest.  Only when the men had finished their tea and all the cups had been collected did Ahmed signal for the girls to bring out a bolt of silk.  They placed the cloth at the feet of the king.
            “The finest of silk from far-off Cathay,” said the merchant, unrolling one end of the bolt and placing the material into the king’s hands.  “Brought here at great danger to myself over thousands of robber infested deserts.
            Unlike the women, King Joash knew about silk although he had seen very little of it.  He knew the merchant exaggerated the dangers of the journey since large caravans seldom faced attacks from small bands of robbers.  But he didn’t mind the hype.  All he could think about was how beautiful Haggith would appear in a robe made of the bright yellow silk he ran through his fingers.
            “What price are you asking for this beautiful cloth,” said the king.
            “Price?  You do me a dishonor, oh king.”  Ahmed looked as if the king had slapped him in the face.  “How can I set a price on my life?  How can I set a price on that which rightfully belongs in the court of the king?  For you, it is a gift.”
            “A gift?  You are most generous Ahmed.  What a beautiful gift you have given.  It will make the heart of my queen most happy.”  Picking up the entire bolt of cloth he waved to one of the palace guards who stepped forward immediately and carried the cloth away toward the king’s chariot.”
            “How pleased I am to make such a wonderful gift to please the heart of the queen.  And for me?  Only a small token of compensation for my diligent endeavor in risking life and limb to bring it to you.  Say, one hundred gold shekels?”  Ahmed rubbed his hands together in anticipation of the sale.
            Joash knew the wily merchant had planned the entire bargaining session in an attempt to outwit the king, but he would not let that happen.  The cloth already rested in his chariot and he could not return it without losing face in front of his guests.  But he also did not want them to think he was easy pickings for every two-bit merchant.
            “Do you have more of this beautiful cloth you have brought from Cathay at such risk of life and limb?” asked the king.
            Ahmen, fulling expecting the king to dispute the outrageous price he had named for delivery of the silk, was caught by surprise, but only for a moment.  With the vision of many more gold shekels floating through his head he clapped for the girls who brought out a bolt of blue silk.
            “Even more beautiful than the first,” the king raved and motioned to the guard to load it into the chariot as well.
            Again the merchant clapped and the girls displayed a bolt of red.
            “Ah, you have kept the best for last,” said the king as all the guests applauded.  “That must be mine as well.”
            With all three packages of silk safely deposited in the king’s chariot the merchant held out his hand.  “And now, if you please, my three hundred gold shekels.”
            “But we agreed on one hundred shekels, my good friend, with all of these noble men as witnesses.”
            “One hundred for one.  Three hundred for three.”  The merchant held up three grubby fingers.   “It is only right.”
            “Ah, but the cloth is a gift.  You said so yourself.  You desired one hundred shekels for the cost of the trip, and you only made the trip once.”
            One of the king’s guards counted out the shekels to the merchant and they prepared to leave, but before the king had risen from the pillow where he sat Ahmed clapped once more and the small boy who had carried out the pillow appeared from with the merchant’s tent with a small, carved, wooden box.  Ahmed took the box and held it in front of the king.  Opening the box he showed the king a small red tube from which a single string extended.
            “Noble and honorable King Joash,” said the merchant.  “Allow me to show you the latest and best product from far-off Cathay.  I know you will agree that you have never seen anything like this in all your life.”
            The king nodded.  He had never seen anything like it.  “What good is it?” he asked.
            ‘I will tell you,” said the merchant in a mysterious whisper.  “Take it to your banquet tonight.  When the moon grows full set it on the window sill.  Take a coal from the hearth and touch it to the end of the string.  It will make your banquet into an evening your guests will never forget.”
            Putting the tube back into the box and carefully closing the lid, Ahmed bowed low and then turned to the work of selling the rest of his merchandise to the crowd gathered just beyond the ring of stools which the boys quickly removed.
            The final banquet of the week had been planned as the highlight of the entire week of celebration.  The table in the great hall of the palace groaned under the weight of fruit baskets, bowls of nuts, and steaming plates of vegetables.  In the center of each table a whole calf roasted in one piece stood ready for the knives of the banquet guests.   Each person would be allowed to take his favorite cut.  Oil lamps cast bright light into every corner of the room and around the tables assembled the great men from all over the kingdom of Judah as well as the invited guests from Samaria.  King Joash knew most of the men, but there were a few who seemed only distantly familiar.  Two of those sat at a table near the entrance doors.  They both wore robes similar to the visitors from Samaria, but their heads were practically hidden under hoods which they did not remove all evening.
            Just before midnight the king noticed that the full moon had risen and shone in the window, reminding him of the box Ahmed the merchant had given him earlier in the day.
            “Bring in the box from Cathay,” he commanded.  A guard bowed low and returned with the box resting on a pillow.
            “Take out the tube and place in on the sill.”  The room grew quiet as the guests watched the actions of the guard.  With the tube on the window sill the king himself rose from the table and crossed the room to where a fire burned behind a grate.  With a set of tongs he secured a coal, walked to the window and touched it to the string.  But nothing happened.
            The king frowned. “Just as I thought,” he turned to the guests.  “All a fake.  I got the best of our merchant friend this afternoon and he simply seeks to embarrass me in front of all of you, my honored guests.  Let us return to our celebratory meal.”
            Joash took his seat once again and reached for a bowl of pomegranate seeds when a brilliant flash lit up the window.
            “Boom!  Crash!”
            The entire room shook as the tube exploded and sent a huge spray of fire shooting toward the moon.  People dove off their couches and tried to hide under the tables.  King Joash threw the entire bowl of pomegranate seeds into the air and for the next few seconds sticky, juicy pomegranate rained on all those nearby.
            No one was injured by the firecracker, but it effectively ended the banquet.  No one wanted to stay around much longer after the explosion.  As soon as they could leave politely, without being rude to the king, the guests excused themselves and hurried away.  The merchant had certainly been right about one thing, the banquet would never be forgotten.

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