Free Unspoken by Francine Rivers

afternoon.

    When her maid opened the door at last, Bathsheba jumped to her feet. “What news?”
    The girl’s eyes flickered in discomfort. “The guard took me to the king’s court.”
    “The king’s court?” Bathsheba felt weak and light-headed. How many courtiers had been in attendance when her message was delivered? How many tongues were now wagging with speculations? She didn’t ask. She didn’t want to know.
    “Joram demanded to know who had sent me.” Her handmaiden started to weep. “I had to tell him, my lady. I had to. But I said it quietly. I said it so quietly, he had to bend forward and tell me to repeat what I’d said. And then he went forward and informed the king.”
    “For all to hear?”
    The girl’s face was pale. “No. He whispered into the king’s ear.”
    Somehow that made everything worse. Bathsheba shuddered. “Did Joram take my message?”
    “Yes, my lady.”
    “Did he give it to David?”
    “Yes, my lady.”
    “And did the king summon you then? Did he give you a message to bring back to me? Did he say anything to you?”
    “No, my lady, no, no—but how could he say anything with so many around to hear and wonder? He called for . . .”
    “Called for . . . ?”
    “The next case.”
    Bathsheba turned her face away. “You may go.”
    “Oh, my lady . . .”
    “Go!”
    Alone, Bathsheba sank to the floor and covered her face. It was too late to regret loving David, too late to regret giving herself to him without a word of protest. All she could do now was wait and see if David would remember his promise to her.
    For now, it appeared he’d chosen to remember her not at all.

DAVID assessed Uriah as the soldier approached the throne. He was a tall man with broad shoulders, his skin weathered and ruddy from years in the sun, his mouth an uncompromising line. He’d removed his leather helmet and tucked it beneath one of his arms. David noticed the streaks of gray at the Hittite’s temples. He stopped in front of the throne, hit his fist against his heart, and bowed low before David. “My lord the king!”
    When the Hittite straightened, David inclined his head with the respect due a man of proven loyalty and courage, well respected by captains as well as commanders, and even the king. No sign of curiosity lit Uriah’s eyes now. He was a consummate soldier, who obeyed his supreme commander without question. David knew that whatever he commanded, Uriah would do.
    Relaxing, David leaned back. This was going to be easy. “How does Joab fare? Tell me about the people and how the war prospers.”
    “All goes well, my lord the king.” Uriah gave detailed information on how Joab and Abishai had employed the captains and the soldiers beneath their command. Uriah gave a full picture of the situation. He spoke of skirmishes in which the Ammonites had been chased back inside the city “like dogs with their tails between their legs.” David laughed with him. Uriah spoke of the fear upon the land since David had defeated Hadadezer and his allies the previous year. “Hanun is alone. It’s only a matter of time before Rabbah falls and Hanun’s crown will be placed in your hands.”
    Nodding, David smiled. “Good news, indeed. Is it not so?” He looked around at the other men in court who received the news eagerly. He returned his attention to Uriah. The time to show magnanimity was right. “You may take your leave, my friend. Go on home and relax.”
    A frown flickered across Uriah’s brow. “My lord the king!” With a fist against his heart, he bowed low again, straightened, stepped back, and turned with the precision of a marching man. David stifled his jealousy as he watched the Hittite stride from the throne room.
    “Joram.” He beckoned his guard. “I want a meal prepared for Uriah and his wife, something special, something that will bring back fond memories of their wedding feast.” He gripped the arms of his throne tightly. “Have it prepared and delivered to