Читать книгу Jezebel - Eleanor Jong De - Страница 21

The hot and barren summer did little more than stifle the tensions of Jezebel’s arrival in Samaria, and she spent much of the season shut away inside the Palace, at first under Ahab’s orders for her own safety, and then under Daniel’s as her belly swelled with the child. She felt enormous, and was sure that Raisa would notice that she was bigger than she should have been. But as the eighth month came and went, she and Ahab only delighted in the prospect of the birth, so auspiciously soon after marriage, and Jezebel was left to pray with Beset that the child didn’t resemble its true father.

Ahab had also been distracted by reports from the banks of the River Jordan, to the north-east, where the forces of Ben-Hadad of Damascus were gathering to threaten the fertile Israelite plains of Gilead. Ahab spent endless nights in his rooms consulting with his soldiers, and Jezebel, growing ever bigger, felt a fondness grow for him that she had never imagined possible. Despite the affairs of state, he made sure that they met every day to eat together, and she would listen as he talked with his officials about Asa, the King of Judah’s continuing reluctance to join the Israelites for war. Obadiah was ever present, like a dark shadow cast by the high summer sun, eyeing her in his way that made her feel dirty.

Eventually Ahab agreed with his advisers that Ben-Hadad couldn’t be allowed to threaten the plains any longer and, at first light one late summer morning, with a storm brewing in the humid grey skies, the King rode out with his army to war, confident that his rival would be defeated before his longed-for son came into the world. Yet Jezebel realised the anxiety she felt was not only about the baby, but also about the possibility that Ahab would not return from the war. She had traced the scars on his body many times now, and she remembered well his words that first night they shared together, but still she offered up a prayer as he passed beneath her window, his eyes lingering on hers. He’s been so kind to me, she thought, please bring him home safe and soon.

With his absence, and that of three-quarters of the soldiery, the city felt desolate. Jezebel too felt empty despite her huge belly beneath her gown. She tried to fill her time with daily rituals of her own, and one morning, almost three weeks after his departure, she waddled alone across the gardens to her Temple to pray for Ahab as she always did. She wanted to pray too for the baby. She knew Daniel was concerned that the baby was about to go beyond safe term, and though every day meant another day Raisa would not think the child born early, Daniel’s anxiety made her nervous. The Temple had long ago been cleaned and new statues found for the altar, and though it had taken her a while to stop looking over her shoulder, she had drawn courage from the stillness that pervaded its walls. This morning though she felt too big to kneel to pray and instead she sat on a small bench and smiled at the statue of Astarte.

‘You got me into this trouble,’ she murmured, rubbing the mound at her waist, ‘so you will have to forgive my lack of penitence.’

As if Astarte was in no mind to forgive her disciple, a bright flash lit up the Temple with a deafening crack, and within moments rain was pouring through the skylight and all over the altar. It was the first rain the city had seen for months but Jezebel was in no mood to celebrate it and she pushed herself up from the bench.

She’d barely reached the gates when she felt a sharp heave of pain and a great wetness between her legs. She wailed with the agony of opening the gate and fell to her knees just inside the garden. The rain soaked through her clothes and she tried to crawl but soon she curled howling into a ball, unable to do anything but cry, even her tears washed away by the intense rain.

Was this her punishment for lying to Ahab? Would she die in the storm with Jehu’s baby still unborn? Please, forgive me, she begged Astarte.

She was so absorbed by the cascading pain that it took her a moment to realise that someone was leaning over her, talking to her.

‘I saw you from the Palace. Is it the baby?’ Daniel’s taut face hovered above her.

Jezebel nodded weakly.

‘Have your waters broken?’

‘Yes—’

‘I’m not going to leave you, and Beset is on her way with help.’ He bent over her, shielding her from the rain, and she felt his fingers draw her sodden hair away from her face. She made herself listen to his voice as he told her to breathe as deeply as she could. And soon she was being carried through the courtyard to her room, Daniel’s hand in hers, Beset drying her face with a cloth, trying to think of anything but how much it hurt.

Upstairs Raisa was waiting with a bundle of linens and basins of water, the sleeves of her gown pinned above her elbows.

‘You are so sad to see Ahab go that you have called his child forth to keep you company!’ said Raisa. ‘There now, lie yourself here. There are plenty of cushions.’

Jezebel could only do as she was told, and as another scream of agony welled up within her, Raisa bathed her forehead with warm cloths soaked in lavender water. A midwife bustled with cloths and bowls beside the fire, and Daniel stood uselessly by the bed.

‘She will be well looked after,’ Raisa reassured him. ‘I’ve either borne or delivered every child in the House of Omri and this will be no different. Now go along and make sure the nursery is ready. The Queen will be perfectly safe with us.’

Jezebel gazed helplessly at Daniel. She hadn’t realised that he wouldn’t be staying with her and as the midwife brought a tray of wooden implements over to the bed, she clamped her eyes tight shut in terror. She felt Daniel squeeze her hand and then he was gone.

‘An early child is always at risk, Jezebel,’ Raisa was saying. ‘Do you understand?’

‘It will be all right,’ said Beset gently, close to her ear. ‘Chew on this liquorice root when you want to scream, it will calm you and stop you from biting your tongue.’ Jezebel felt the rough twig slide between her teeth and she started to breathe through her nose, listening for the midwife’s steady counting.

But the pain would not end and for hours she writhed and cried, the liquorice roots quickly shredding in her mouth without soothing her. In her delirium all Jezebel could think was that the Gods were so angry with her for deceiving her husband that they had decided she would be stuck forever with Jehu’s child unborn between her legs. It was all she could do not to scream her fears.

But finally, as the sun began to set, and with one last dreadful holler that Jezebel would never forget, the baby was born.

‘A boy!’ cried Raisa. ‘Yahweh has blessed the House of Omri with a boy!’

Jezebel released a great breath and opened her eyes. A tiny body hung from Raisa’s bony hands, his eyes screwed shut and his feet wriggling beneath him. Jezebel’s breath caught in her throat at the beauty of her child, how fragile he was and yet how strongly he kicked and cried with his first breaths. The midwife cut the cord, and Raisa handed her the baby.

‘Bathe him quickly and carefully,’ said Raisa, ‘keep him warm and let Jezebel hold him. They must know each other immediately if this boy is to survive.’ Raisa glanced knowingly across the room. Jezebel followed her gaze and realised Esther had joined them. But she stood apart from the others, chewing her thumbnail, and when Jezebel smiled at her, Esther turned and ran away.

‘The legacy of Ahab’s first wife isn’t your concern,’ said Raisa. ‘The Judeans have chosen to turn their backs on us in our time of war, so I won’t be surprised if Yahweh permits this boy to live, to confirm the new way forward for our people.’

‘I heard the baby cry. It’s healthy?’ Daniel appeared in the doorway, his hair damp with sweat as though he had been the one giving birth and not merely worrying about it.

Raisa tutted and pulled Jezebel’s gown down over her knees. ‘I would have sent for you.’

The midwife handed Daniel the bundled child and after a brief inspection, he handed Jezebel her son and she nestled him against her breast. He had a shock of dark hairs damp from being bathed, and Jezebel couldn’t help but think of Jehu.

‘He even looks like Ahab,’ said Raisa, stroking the child’s head.

Jezebel looked up with surprise. ‘You think so?’

Raisa laughed. ‘You didn’t expect him to be born with grey hair, did you?’