Читать книгу Jezebel - Gardner Fox - Страница 6

Omri stared from the high window out across the plain of Jezreel. He was a man of medium size, balding now with age, but there was still an intense vitality in him. Twelve years had he reigned in Israel, ever since overthrowing the former general of the armies, Zimri, who had in turn achieved kingship by murdering young Elah, son of Baasha.

They had been good years. He had done much for his people, his kingdom. As far away as great Nineveh in Assyria, he had made trade treaties with its king, mighty Assur-nasir-pal. In Assyria they knew Israel as the House of Omri, and his wisdom was known and respected. It annoyed him, therefore, that his own flesh and blood should not also honor that wisdom by bowing before it.

“A pagan woman,” he growled. “A priestess of Baal.”

“And the princess of Phoenicia,” added Ahab, from a bench before the cedar table that held a score of scrolls. He had spread out one of them—it contained a listing of war chariots stabled at Megiddo—but his eyes were on his father.

When Omri snorted, Ahab smiled. He said casually, “An alliance with a powerful neighbor like Phoenicia is not to be shrugged away so easily, father. Such a dowry is better than any other I can think of.”

Omri turned from the window to face his son. Pride beat strong in him at sight of Ahab. His son was tall and strong, a good soldier, a wise man. He would extend the boundaries of the lands he would inherit when Omri died. By conquest or by statesmanship, it made no difference; Israel would be a power in its world, and Ahab, son of Omri, would sit its throne.

But a pagan woman!

Omri shook his head. They thought their own thoughts, this younger generation. In his youth, when Baasha had been king in Israel, the young men were subservient to their elders. Oh, there were times when he had been rebellious, though he had not carried it quite so far as Absalom against King David, nor Adonijah, who could not wait for his father to die before attempting to seize power.

He supposed he might make concessions. It was true that Ahab would rule Israel in his place when the grave-bands were tied about his wrists and ankles; Omri did not like to think of death but a king must make preparations for such eventualities; it was the duty of a king to think of his people even after he was in his grave. If by doing so he might guard them against disaster, Omri was all for it.

Aloud he said, “If it will make you happy, Ahab—take this woman to wife.”

Ahab gave a shout and raised high his arms. “Father, I thank you. Jezebel is the fairest of all women. You too, will come under her spell.”

He threw his arms around Omri and kissed him on both cheeks. He broke free and danced a few steps, turning and whirling as did the dancers during the rites of Ab. He had never known such happiness, except for that night in the Temple of Astarte when he had taken Jezebel over and over again, in his mad attempt to match the frenzy of the blood-stained soldiers who were raping Shubadad and her daughters to death. It had been a night of wild excesses, of insane passions. He was eager to know such pleasures again.

He would know them, with Jezebel.

She had as good as promised as much, in the early hours of the dawn before they had slept together in the garden summerhouse, when the Temple was quiet, inhabited only by the bodies of four dead women. Her perfumed fingertips had toyed with his black curls while her tongue had chattered on about what their life together would be like, when he was king and she was queen in Israel. He seemed to hear her voice once again, langorous, sleepy.

“There will be no end to our delights, Ahab.”

He closed his eyes, remembering, and his body yearned for her embrace. She was so soft, so smooth of flesh, so fragrant and good to kiss. Ahab almost groaned in his want for her.

Omri growled and waved a hand at him.

“Go do your mooning somewhere else, boy. I have work to do. Aye, I’ll write this day and despatch a courier to Ithobaal.”

“The date must be soon for the marriage, father.”

Omri grinned at him. The boy was in heat to bed the wench, any fool could see. Well, let him get her out of his system as fast as possible. Then he could turn to the pursuits of kingship. Israel needed a strong man on its throne, not a lovesick youth.

He began to feel better about Jezebel.