Joash - The King Who Would Not Die Chapter Four

THE KING WHO WOULD NOT DIE

THE KING WHO WOULD NOT DIE

By Robert Allen

CHAPTER FOUR

            During the next year Joash grew rapidly.  Zibiah carefully kept him away from Queen Athaliah.  Only on occasion would they see her in the distance being carried around on her golden chair.  But Jehoshabeath visited the palace several times a week.  Each time the friendship between the two women grew deeper.

            Those visits happened much more often than the times she actually spent with her husband.  Things were not going well in Judah, but King Ahaziah didn’t even seem to care.  Instead of ruling the kingdom he spent most of his time drinking and gaming with his uncle.  King Joram of Israel was the brother of Queen Athaliah.  His wickedness almost excelled that of his sister.  Their mother, however had the worst reputation of all.  Her name was Queen Jezebel.  She lived in Jezreel up in the northern kingdom in the palace of her son Joram.  All her days were spent stirring up trouble for anyone who still worshiped Jehovah.  They were not the type of friends King Ahaziah needed, but no one could tell him that.  He thought they were his best friends.

            The land of Judah had many enemies besides the Arabians.  Both the Edomites and the Philistines often invaded border territories and took cattle, horses and sheep.  Instead of defending his own land against them, King Ahaziah would march his troops north and help his uncle fight against the Syrian army.  That made no sense to Zibiah, but she knew better than to say anything like that to the king.  The Queen Mother, Athaliah, wanted him to fight alongside her brother and so that is what he did.

            One dark night, long after she had fallen asleep, Zibiah woke with a hand on her forehead.

            “Ahaziah?” she whispered.

            “Zibiah, I am sorry to wake you.  I will be leaving again in the morning and wanted to look at my son.  He is certainly growing fast.”

            “I know.  He walks already, you know.”  The young queen crossed to the cradle, but didn’t wake the sleeping child.  “Do you have to leave so soon?”

            “I must.  King Joram was wounded during our last battle with the Syrians.  The doctors have been treating him at the summer palace in Jezreel, but he doesn’t seem to be getting any better.  A messenger came with an urgent message, begging me to come.”

            “I suppose you must.”  They stood quietly for a time watching little Joash breathe.  The Zibiah spoke again.  “Ahaziah, have you ever met the prophet Elisha?”
            “Elisha?  I’ve seen him.  He likes to stand on the side of the road and shout at the king when I visit him up in Samaria.  He’s always trying to stir up the people against Joram.”

            “Is it really true that he called a bear out of the woods and told it to eat some young men who were teasing him about his bald head?”

            “Sounds like something he would do.  He’s another reason why I really need to get up to Israel to see Joram.”

            “You are going because of Elisha?”

            “Yes.  The rumor mill claims he has been inciting one of King Joram’s army captains to rebel.  A fellow by the name of Jehu.  If a rebellion comes I need to be there to help Athaliah’s brother.”

            “But if Elisha can tell a bear what to do, maybe he can tell men what to do too?

            “Are you worried about me?  You don’t need to be.  Baal is much more powerful that the God Elisha claims to serve.  Elisha can send all the Jehus he wants, but they can’t defeat us.  We have Baal on our side.”

            With that said, the king gave her quick kiss and was gone.

            The next morning Zibiah heard from the servants that King Ahaziah and forty-two of his cousins and closest companions rode straight up toward Jezreel through the valley of Megiddo.  They planned to visit King Joram, cheer him up, and protect him from any potential rebels.

            The king had no idea that Elisha the prophet had received a message from God informing him that it was time for a new king in Israel.  Elisha sent a message to Jehu who served as a captain in the army stationed in the city of Ramoth-Gilead.  The message read: “Thus saith the Lord, I have anointed thee king over Israel.”

            When Jehu read the message he climbed into his fastest chariot and drove toward Jezreel, the same destination as Ahaziah and his friends.  Ramoth-Gilead sat on the east side of the Jordan River so Ahaziah and his cousins had already arrived in Jezreel and started sharing a meal with King Joram when the first messenger arrived.

            “Excuse me, your majesty King Joram.  The watchman on the tower has seen a great company of men approaching from the east.  He sent me to tell you.”

            King Joram scowled.  “How dare you interrupt my dinner like this.  You stupid fool.  Send out a rider to see if they come in peace.”

            The messenger bowed almost to the ground and backed out of the room, not daring to even lift his eyes to the level of the king.  Everyone knew the story of the time Joram had thrown his knife into the back of a man who had forgotten to keep facing the king as he left the throne room.  With the messenger gone the king waved at the servants and they continued bringing in the pomegranates, fish, coneys, mead, oranges and grapes.  The plates on the table overflowed with bread, nuts and lamb when a soft knock came on the door and the messenger entered once again.

            “What is it now?” the king roared.  “Did you send out a rider as I said?”

            “We did, your majesty.”  The messenger looked so scared that Ahaziah and his cousins laughed loudly.  It struck them funny to see a man worried for his life simply because he had the task of bringing a message to the king.

            “What did he say?  Do they come in peace?”

            “I don’t know, sir.  He came to them, but he didn’t come back.  I don’t know what happened to him, your highness.”

            “Well, you fool.  Send out another rider.”

            In his haste to escape the messenger nearly forget to back out of the room.  He spun away and just as quickly kept spinning until he faced the king once again.  Joram already had his dagger in his hand which flustered the servant even more.  The guests laughed uproariously as his feet tangled together and he landed hard on the floor.  Carefully keeping his face toward the king he crawled backward out of the room on all fours.  Once again the men attacked their meal with satisfied grunts and groans of pleasure.  The servants kept them supplied abundantly and then began loading the table with rolls and sweetmeats along with even more mead and wine.  No one even heard the knock on the door or became aware of the messenger’s return until the king shouted, “What is it this time?  How dare you interrupt us a third time.”

            The king already had his dagger in hand before the man even began to speak.  But something even worse than the danger from the king’s rapier frightened him and loosened his lips.

            “We sent another rider, sir.  Just like you said.  He came to them just like the first one but he didn’t return.  And sir, the driving of the first chariot—it’s like the driving of Jehu, sir.  Jehu the son of Nimshi.  He drives furiously.”

            “Jehu!”  The king released the dagger and buried it in the wall just over the top of the messenger’s head.  “I should have known the prophet Elisha had something to do with this.  Arm my chariot.  Call the guards.  Alert the army captains.  Elisha and Jehu will not get away with this.”

            Suddenly all eating ceased as King Joram and King Ahaziah and all the guests dashed outside for their horses and chariots.  The visitors from Jerusalem called for their mounts from the stables and the king’s guards brought their chariots to the front steps.  Some of the men had a hard time mounting up because the wine had made them tipsy but the gates of the city opened and all rode out to meet Jehu.

            A huge cloud of dust rose up before them.  It stormed across the valley led by a chariot which appeared to fly at the head of the cloud.  The messenger had been right.  No one but Jehu ever drove his horses that furiously.  As the cloud came closer King Joram shouted in that direction, “Is it peace, Jehu?”

            Jehu reigned in his horses and the dust caught up with him and swirled around his chariot.  “What peace can there be as long as your mother Jezebel is around to cause Israel to sin?  How can there be peace when her witchcrafts are so many?”

            As the cloud behind Jehu continued to grow King Joram realized his mistake.  He had exited with city with the forty or fifty men who had been at his table, but Jehu had brought the entire army stationed in Ramoth-Gilead.  Joram had even forgotten his sword, and his dagger still remained stuck in the wall of the palace.

            “Turn around,” he yelled to his chariot driver.  “Back inside the walls.  There is treachery, King Ahaziah.”

            With his back turned to Jehu the king received the same treatment he loved to give to others.  An arrow from Jehu’s bow caught him full in the back killing him instantly.  Ahaziah watched in fear and commanded his chariot drive as well.  They got as far as the Garden Gate before he too felt the sting of an arrow from one of Jehu’s soldiers.  The chariot driver escaped harm and drove on to the city of Megiddo, but King Ahaziah lost so much blood on the trip that he died there the same day.

            Only a few of the king’s friends survived.  All of his royal cousins died at the hands of the rebel army.  The few friends who remained carried the body of young King Ahaziah back through the Judean hills to the city of Jerusalem.

            Zibiah had taken Joash out into the palace yard for a playtime when the messenger arrived with news of her husband’s death.  He rushed right past her and on into the throne room to tell Queen Athaliah.  Zibiah had to hear it from the chariot driver who delivered the messenger back to the city in advance of the friends with the king’s body.  Gathering up her son into her arms she fled to her room and began to weep.  She truly had loved him.  From within the palace came no weeping, but laughter.  That same uncontrollable, shrieking laughter Zibiah had heard the night Athaliah came to her room.

            Two days later they gathered for the funeral.  King Ahaziah’s tomb had been prepared in the garden of King David’s palace, just like so many of the king’s before him.  Zibiah knew of the funeral but had not been invited to attend.  Queen Athaliah sent word through the palace guards that none of the king’s wives were allowed.  So Zibiah spent the day in her room with Jehoshabeath, praying and reading some of David’s poetry.  Jehoshabeath had brought the scrolls with her from the temple.

            “I know it is hard to lose your husband,” Jehoshabeath comforted her.  “But I know also that one day it will be all right.  My husband Jehoiada and other leaders of the nation will meet tomorrow to decide which of the king’s sons should succeed him on the throne.  Who knows, they might even choose Joash.”

            “But he’s just a baby.  How could be possibly be king?”

            “The men would appoint an advisor for him until he is old enough to make decisions by himself.  But that would be true for any of Ahaziah’s sons.  None of them are much older than Joash.”

            “I suppose you are right.  I just can’t believe how quickly matters have changed in one short week.  If only Ahaziah had not gone to Jezreel.”  Jehoshabeath pulled her close as the tears began to flow once more.

            Later that evening Jehoshabeath bid her farewell.  “I must go, but I will return first thing tomorrow morning.  Get a good night’s rest.  You are going to need all your strength.”

            Zibiah decided a good rest was exactly what she needed.  After feeding the baby she settled him under the covers of his cradle, crawled into her own bed and fell asleep.

            In her dreams she thought they must have decided to do some renovations on the palace.  Hammers seemed to be hitting the wall in the hall outside her door.  Half-awake, she realized that it was not hammers at all.  Someone pounded on her door.

            “Zibiah, let me in.  Open the door, quickly.”

            She recognized Jehoshabeath’s voice as she hurried to lift the heavy latch.

            “Hurry, Zibiah.  There is not time to waste.  One of the palace guards who fears Jehovah sent word to my husband in the temple.  Queen Athaliah decided not to wait for the leaders to chose a new king.  Instead she plans to assume the crown.  To make certain no one stands in her way she and her bodyguards have determined to kill every child in line for the throne.  She is going to kill her own grandchildren.  I’m so glad I arrived in time.  Grab Joash quickly.  We must hurry.”

            Zibiah could not believe her own ears.  Surely no one would be so evil as to kill her own grandchildren to keep them from becoming king.  But she did not argue.  She had seen enough of Queen Athaliah’s anger.  Leaving the blankets behind she grabbed Joash from the cradle and the two women ran out the door.  But it was too late.  There in the hall stood two of the palace guards, swords already drawn in their hands.