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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781504987233 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 03/31/2016 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 138 |
| File size: | 7 MB |
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Tamar
A Novel of Ancient Israel
By Irene Elizabeth G. Williams
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2016 Irene Elizabeth G. WilliamsAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5246-0000-6
CHAPTER 1
THE RAINS
The days grew short with the approach of the winter solstice, but for Tamar the night shadows that shrouded Jerusalem were welcome. For with the darkness came the rains, cool and refreshing after the long hot months of summer and the dusty khamsin winds that blew in from the eastern deserts during spring and fall. For just two months out of the year the clouds more regularly skirted low over the limestone walls of the city. The downpours pattered on rooftops and bathed the fields and orchards of the highlands that spread out for miles at an elevation of twenty-five hundred feet or more. The hills surrounded the capital of Israel, perched as it was on its strategic ridge.
The Israelites were once a diffuse organization of twelve tribes clinging to outposts in the Land of Canaan, but they were now unified under the rule of King David, second monarch of Israel and defeater of the fearsome Philistines, the Ammonites, the Moabites, and the Jebusites. The United Kingdom of Israel and Judah was a forced to be reckoned with, and its influence extended out from Jerusalem to the far reaches of the coastal plain, the mountains, and the Rift Valley.
As evening came on, the servants lit lamps fueled with liquid sheep fat that sizzled and sputtered. Torchlight danced in the darkened corridors of Tamar's home, a dwelling separate from the grand palace of David and a distinct honor accorded to her because of her intellect, beauty, and standing in the eyes of the great king despite her origin of birth. Tamar stood on a balcony overlooking the grounds. A gust of wind brought cool raindrops to her, sprinkling her face and slightly wetting the colorful robe that marked her as a princess virgin. She was not a true Israelite woman, not by ancestry, because under Hebrew law a true Jew had to have a Jewish mother. Her mother was a convert, not a flower born in the holiness of Israel's God. As such, Tamar always felt a bit apart from David's family, with his prodigious number of wives, daughters, and sons. No, Tamar was not of a Jewish mother. She was the daughter of a Yefas Toar, meaning "beautiful captive woman" in Hebrew. She was of the loins of the foreign princess Maacah, whom David had captured from Maacah's father, King Talmai, master of the nearby idolatrous and unclean nation of Geshur.
Maacah's beauty inspired David to take his rights as a warrior. Under the guidelines of the Torah, Maacah was considered a mere slave girl. He was allowed to have sexual relations with her just once, right after he captured her. Thereafter, he was not to have any further physical intimacy with her because it would be unholy and an affront to God. It would be a sin. If he wished to partake of her body, the law said he had to convert her to the monotheistic Hebrew faith, and marry her, which he did. But that first union, while Maacah was still a slave, produced Tamar, thereby forever making Tamar below the laws of the Torah. She lacked yichus, a "pedigree" that would command true respect, although among the common people she ranked as a princess. Even in David's house, she was given respect, but the origins of her birth were never forgotten. She had been brought up in the Hebrew faith after her mother converted and married David, but the stigma, as hidden as it was, remained in the background and subtly influenced how all of David's other wives treated her.
"Princess?"
Tamar did not turn away from the balcony. She watched the darkness creep over the city. A dim yellow light framed the windows of some of the buildings below.
"Yes?" she asked.
She heard her handmaiden Dinah pad closer, the older woman's gentle footfalls barely audible above the light rain.
"It is cold," Dinah said. "You don't want to get sick from the chill. That would be very bad. Very bad."
"I am fine," Tamar said.
So you say.
Tamar smiled. She shook her head. "Dinah, you worry too much. Nothing bad will happen to me. I am a princess of Jerusalem. I am a princess of all Israel."
"Don't tempt God, my child. He has a vengeful heart if need be. Pride is a sin in the eyes of God. Be wary of it."
"I tempt no one by enjoying the cool rain. I do not tempt God either. I do not show pride by stating a simple fact." She raised her arms over her head and said, "You see! The city is clean. Can you smell the difference the rains have made already? No more stench of mule dung in the air. No more sweat and stink of men in the lower city 98markets."
"Some men in the upper city stink too."
Tamar laughed. "I've noticed."
Dinah came and stood beside her. Tamar considered Dinah far more than a handmaiden. Dinah had been part of her grandfather's family, the house of King Talmai, ever since her mother was a young woman. Spry for her years, Dinah lived to serve Tamar, and Tamar knew it. If Dinah stepped out of bounds, which she often did when they were in private, there was no real harm done. Dinah also knew when to keep silent, especially when in the presence of the king at the sumptuous dinners served to the entire family on a regular basis. The king liked to gather his flock to his table in the palace, where he dispensed wisdom to his nineteen sons, who frequently displayed the foolishness of young privileged men with the not-so-mistaken impression that they were above the king's law, above even God's law. Dinah was discrete, if she was anything. She even watched what she said in front of Tamar's brother, Absalom, when the young man visited Tamar's home. The prince was known for his mercurial nature, his occasional dark moods, his temper that could flare or simmer, depending on the nature of the transgression, whether that transgression was real or imagined. Absalom was also known for his extraordinary good looks, his dark skin without blemish or other imperfection, his long brown hair that had just enough curl to make it fall beyond his shoulders in a way that caught the eye of the ladies.
"Come inside, Tamar," Dinah said. "The night is here. You don't want the darkness to embrace you."
Tamar sighed. "The darkness comes for us all, Dinah. Whether we want it or not, the darkness comes anyway."
"Why so melancholy tonight?"
"I don't know. I have had those dreams again. I dreamed of violence, tears, and war. I dreamed that all of Israel will be torn asunder and then remade, but blood will run red in the streets. Mothers will wail and gnash their teeth for lost children. Wives will do the same for their dead husbands."
"Surely this cannot be true."
"I wish that were the case, but I think there is truth in the dreams I have from time to time, Dinah. I don't invite the dreams. They just come."
Dinah asked. "You have not been yourself lately. Is it the dreams that are bothering you? It would make sense if that were the root of it."
Tamar felt the older woman's warmth as Dinah hugged her close, her right arm around Tamar's waist.
"You can tell me child," Dinah said. "You know you can say anything to me and it will never pass my lips no matter what. No matter who asks me."
A feeling of utter sadness enveloped Tamar, and she didn't understand why. She had been happy walking in the sun of the early afternoon with the royal guards as escorts. She had smelled the foods of the markets. She'd savored some of the delicacies of fired lamb, juicy figs and dates, and crispy barley bread cakes. She had gazed up at the deep blue sky and felt the caress of the west wind that seemed to carry just a hint of the salty Mediterranean Sea.
As she walked, she thought of those family dinners in the palace. It was there that she could spend time in the company of her half-brother, Amnon, the first son of David by Ahinoam of the Jezreel in Judah, a land of verdant fields and abundance ensconced amidst the valley of life to the south. Judah was not so fertile as the Highlands of Galilee, but its herds thrived and its people were happy under David's rule. Ah, Amnon. Yes, perhaps it was he who had brought on her confused emotions, her feelings of sadness and fear, of forbidden desire and potentially ruinous shame.
"I don't think I can tell you," Tamar said. "I think it would be a mistake to say anything."
"What can be so bad?"
"Trust me, it's not the dreams of war, even if they are true," Tamar said. "You don't want to know what's really bothering me. Nobody can know. Nobody will know."
"You can blow things all out of proportion. You can, my child. You must understand that the world is not always as it appears to be. If all looks dark, then cast your eyes to the eastern desert and the sun will rise when the time is right. If all looks light, then cast your eyes to the western plain and the darkness will follow from across the sea beyond. It is just the way of things, Tamar. Change always comes, but it doesn't always have to bring darkness. It doesn't always have to bring light. It often just brings a mix of gray. Different shades of nothing."
Dinah let Tamar go. Tamar gave her handmaiden a long look. Then she turned away again and looked out at her father's great city.
"How did you get so wise?" Tamar asked.
"Time brings wisdom to those who seek it," Dinah said. "If God wills it."
"I don't think it brings wisdom to Amnon," Tamar said softly, her voice barely audible.
I see the way he looks at me, and I like it, she thought, immediately feeling ashamed.
A puzzled look crossed Dinah's face. She asked, "What do you mean?"
"I told you I can't say."
Or you won t say.
"This about your half-brother, isn't it?"
"No," Tamar said, realizing too late that her denial was a little too forceful.
Tamar stepped forward beyond the lip of stone that created a ceiling on the balcony. The rain had eased off to become a damp mist. She took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest, hesitating for a long moment before she pushed back the long curls of her auburn hair to expose more of her heart-shaped face to the invigorating coolness of the mist. She knew she was one of the most beautiful women in land, but she hadn't let it go to her head. Indeed, she'd remained cloistered in her home away from the advances of boys and young men ever since she was a babe. Her figure had begun to become obvious to anyone with eyes long ago, and she'd noticed the looks of the royal guards when they came to escort her to the palace, to the market, or to the lush gardens of roses in quiet stonewalled courtyards where she spent hours alone in contemplative silence. She'd noticed the looks of Amnon in particular, his piercing blue eyes, a true oddity among the people, alight with the fire of barely suppressed lust.
"I think I can't say, Dinah. I think some thoughts should never be spoken of. Some thoughts should never even be thought. But what can we do? We have our thoughts whether we want them or not. We have our hearts, and we cannot live without them. We have ourselves, even if we sometimes hate who we are."
Tamar advanced to the edge of the balcony. She put both hands palm down on the flat surface of the stone. The pooled water made the roughness less pronounced.
"What can we do?" she continued. She leaned forward and looked over the edge down into the darkness below. Lights in the buildings punctuated the gloom, even seemed inviting. "We cannot fight the love that burns within us, even if it is a wrong love. Even if it is something unspeakable. Even if it's very nature would defile us in the eyes of God."
"I don't understand," Dinah said. "And maybe I don't want to. Maybe it would be best for you to keep your own counsel."
Tamar could hear the concern in the woman's voice. Or was it fear? She wasn't sure which. But she was sure she heard love in Dinah's voice. She felt it. She knew deep in her bones that it was there. Should she trust her with her innermost thoughts? Her forbidden thoughts, thoughts no young princess should ever have, but had nonetheless? In spite of herself, she pictured Amnon, tall, muscular, his deep brown eyes alive with intelligence and desire whenever they drew close for conversation during the dinners in the palace. His black hair and dark skin stood in stark contrast to her own lighter complexion, her hazel-green eyes that were so out of keeping with most of the women in David's house. Together, they made a striking couple. She knew it. She knew he knew it too.
"I don't think you'd understand even if we spent hours talking about it," Tamar said. "Sometimes, I just feel so alone. Nobody knows what it's like to be me, princess of Israel, the young bride of fortune for some man I don't even love, some man I don't even know yet, some of the many that will bring even more greatness to my father, who is great enough for even King Saul, for even God Himself. Or so he thinks."
"Hush now."
Tamar felt Dinah draw close again. The warmth of Dinah's body against hers made her want to cry for some reason she didn't quite understand, for some deep emotional pull that had been her companion more often of late.
"I think I'd understand more than you think I would," Dinah said. "I think you are troubled, Tamar, and I wish I could take that trouble away. I would bear it on my old shoulders at any time, no matter the weight."
"I know you would," Tamar said. A hot tear left a trail down her right cheek. She brushed the tear away, but another followed. Then another.
"I know you would do anything for me, Dinah. And I love you for it."
"So, do you want to tell me what's on your mind?"
"I think I'm doomed."
"Doomed?"
"Yes, doomed! I will never find love. I will never be happy. I will wander the earth like the twelve tribes in the desert for forty years! For a hundred years! Forever!"
Dinah laughed. "Forever is an awfully long time, Tamar. Maybe your travails will be a little bit less lengthy than that, don't you think?"
Tamar felt the sadness inside her diminish. Like the morning mist in the green hills of Galilee, her distress dissipated and left a shell of emptiness in its wake. Still, the emptiness was nothing new. It was not something that was unfamiliar to her. It was, in fact, a companion she had long since grown accustomed to, even though the companion was not welcome in her home, in her bedchamber, in her very essence as a young princess known for her vitality, wit, and unique beauty among the Hebrews, even among the bordering kingdoms, even in Philista itself along the southwestern reaches of Canaan and the eastern edge of the blue Mediterranean Sea.
No, the emptiness was hers and hers alone, for she could not contemplate anyone else having such loneliness, such feelings of hidden guilt. Lying awake in her bed, the covers pulled half off to admit the gentle touch of a warm spring breeze, Tamar would stare into the blackness above her and wonder why she was who she was. She was the daughter of David and a full sister to Absalom, who was a vanquished prince of Geshur and estranged grandson of King Talmai. She was the most desired woman in all of Israel, throughout the Land of Canaan stretching beyond the fertile highlands to the north and the vast wastes of the barren hills and valleys to the south in the desert of Negev.
"I hope you are right, Dinah. I hope you are right about everything."
"Come inside now," Dinah said, gently taking Tamar by the hand. "Come in and rest. Come in and get warm."
Tamar allowed herself to be guided back inside. She made her way to her bedchamber and lay down. She did not close her eyes. She stared blankly up at the flickering shadows cast by the lamp. They seemed almost alive. If she slept, not only dreams of war would return, but also dreams of sin.
CHAPTER 2CONSPIRACY
Servants hurried about in the house of Amnon, a grand mansion set apart from the palace in the upper city. They brought red wine and bowls piled high with dried fruit. They brought flat bread, roasted grains, cheese, and spiced meats. Amnon sat with his cousin, Jonadab, son of Shimeah and nephew to the king. The two men were alone, save for the servants, Amnon having asked to see Jonadab to receive his counsel on a matter of some urgency.
"Leave us," Amnon said to the servants. The men and women bowed and backed humbly out of the room.
"The rains replenish the land," Jonadab said, popping a chunk of lamb in his mouth. Grease ran down his long gray beard. "It is good. It is what God provides for his chosen. For his blessed children."
Amnon sighed. He ran his right hand through his thick hair, feeling a line of sweat along his forehead, despite the coolness of the early evening. He'd been drinking since dusk, and already the wine was making his head spin. He needed his wine. He loved his wine. It helped ease the boredom he felt in his father's court, where he had little to do. "I pray that it remains so," he said. "The tall oaks and the brilliant red roses need the sustenance God provides in equal measure."
"So true," Jonadab said. "Great and small, it makes no difference. The rains replenish all. Or else the desert winds would turn everything to dust."
The two men ate and drank in silence for a little while. Finally, Jonadab cleared his throat. Putting his bejeweled silver goblet down, he said, "What did you want to talk with me about?"
"I don't know if I should say. If I tell you, do you promise to stay silent, to never tell a soul?"
"Oh, so serious! Oh, so grave! What can you possibly have to say that requires such a promise from me?"
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Tamar by Irene Elizabeth G. Williams. Copyright © 2016 Irene Elizabeth G. Williams. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents
Contents
Author's Note, ix,Prologue, xi,
1 The Rains, 1,
2 Conspiracy, 9,
3 Summoned, 15,
4 Betrayal, 27,
5 Shame, 39,
6 Baal Hazor, 51,
7 Rebirth, 61,
8 Revenge, 73,
9 III Tidings, 87,
10 Flight, 95,
11 Wrath, 105,
12 Limbo, 119,
13 Reunion, 131,
14 Conflict, 139,
15 Ephraim, 149,
16 Pilgrimage, 159,
17 Solomon, 167,
Acknowledgments, 173,
About the Author, 175,