Free Bloodline by Alan Gold Page B

high priest, and I—”
    She cut him off immediately. “And you perform menial tasks; you fetch and you carry, and you teach women and boys.”
    Ahimaaz looked at her with a mixture of anger and suspicion, but he remained silent and allowed her to continue.
    â€œBut you could be so much more . . .”
    To his surprise she then turned and began to walk away toward another room. Without realizing what he was doing, Ahimaaz ran after her and held her by the arm. “What do you mean? How can you, a foreign queen, say such a thing to me, a priest of Yahweh?”
    Naamah looked him up and down. “You Hebrews are so innocent, so trusting. For all your knowledge, you understand so little.” She leaned in closer. “Power is not inherited or given by gods. Real power must be taken and only those fit enough to take it will ever hope to hold on to it. The people are only safe in the hands of such men. Did your god make you such a man?”
    â€œYahweh made me to serve him,” Ahimaaz said, and suddenly realized that he was in the queen’s bedchamber. He looked around in sudden fear.
    Naamah smiled and said, “Don’t worry, little man. The king has another wife to distract him tonight.” But Ahimaaz still felt uncomfortable in such intimate surroundings.
    Naamah laughed softly. “This god of yours, this Yahweh! Do you serve him adequately? Or are you failing to live up to”—she searched the air for the right word—“expectations?”
    Ahimaaz felt a hand on his arm and found himself drawn down to sit on the edge of the queen’s bed with her dark face close to his.
    â€œIf you were high priest, could you not serve your Yahweh better?”
    In his most secret and private moments, Ahimaaz had entertained such thoughts, but the idea had never been voiced. Now this woman was saying things he barely dared to think.
    Knowing that it could be a trap, Ahimaaz replied, “Why do you say these things, woman? I could no more be high priest than you could be first queen.”
    Again Naamah smiled and said softly, “But if you were to be elevated, think what that would mean for you.”
    He looked at her coldly, full of suspicion. “And what would it mean for you, Queen Naamah?”
    Naamah answered the question with another question. “Who should lead your people when wise Solomon is gone? Should his heir be the one who is obvious or the one who is worthy?” She reached over and held his hands in hers.
    Ahimaaz answered without thinking. “Abia is Solomon’s firstborn true heir.”
    Naamah frowned. “And do you think him worthy? Do you think yourself worthy?”
    Ahimaaz pulled away from her hands and stood to his feet. “Treason . . .” he began to say, but the look on her face silenced him.
    â€œListen to me carefully, priest. My son, Rehoboam, is the king this nation needs if it is to live beyond Solomon. Abia is spirited and without caution. He will go to war at the slightest insult. Clever people are required to lead this country or it will fracture between north and south and then both will disappear, overrun by jealous kings.”
    â€œAnd your son, Rehoboam?”
    â€œMy son is neither clever nor wise but he is strong, and with me by his side . . .” She let the thought hang incomplete for a moment before adding, “. . . and you by mine, this kingdom could be truly great.”
    Ahimaaz was speechless while his mind raced. Naamah continued before he had time to recover.
    â€œSolomon must be made to see the better way, and that’s where you have an opportunity.”
    Ahimaaz finished the thought for her. “My brother speaks for God and will never approve such a succession. And while my brother Azariah is high priest, Solomon will never listen to me.”
    â€œThe high priest speaks for God,” Naamah corrected him. “And who may yet become such