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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