The guard caught sight of the kinnor hanging over my shoulder and nodded. “You’re the musicians?” He smirked, probably expecting men, not boys. “Go through. You’ll find Ovadia in the entryway.”
From Ovadia’s house, I’d seen only the top of the palace, but as we stepped through the gates, I entered a city within the city. All the houses inside Levonah’s town walls combined together would hardly equal the size of the palace. It was at least five times as wide as Ovadia’s house and rose to a full three stories. In the courtyard, a double row of thick limestone columns led up to the palace gate. The whole enclosure was buzzing like a beehive: slaves sluiced down the broad flagstones of the courtyard, gardeners pruned grapevines, and servants darted from place to place, each one burdened by his own load.
Under the arched and pillared entryway to the palace, Ovadia inspected a stately oak throne, oiled and buffed to a warm glow in the sunlight. Beside him, a man in linen robes specked with sawdust gestured to an elaborately carved cedar tree on the back of the throne. “Had there been more time—”
“Nonsense,” Ovadia said. “No visiting king could expect more. King Ahav will be pleased.” He turned at our approach. “Ah boys, everything’s been arranged? Excellent. I’m sure you’re hungry. You can return to the house and Batya will fix you something to eat. I may join you there soon, once I find servants to carry this into the throne room.”
I eyed the throne of dark-tinted wood. It looked heavy, but not too heavy for us to carry. The next time I saw Seguv, he’d surely tell me about his appearance in the King’s court. How I’d love to tell him that I’d been there as well.
I might be dreaming of spending the rest of my life playing music at the court, but I know how much my dreams are worth. This might be the only chance I ever get.
Yonaton read my face and nodded—he wanted to do it too. I spoke up, in the deepest tone I could manage. “We can carry it.”
Ovadia’s lips curled into a bemused smile. “You probably can. But the King is sitting on his throne and will be watching. For all the world, I would not be the one to drop this throne in front of King Ahav.”
“We won’t drop it.” I tried to sound more confident than I felt. The craftsman shifted from foot to foot, clearly displeased with the idea of mere boys carrying his creation. But he wouldn’t voice his opposition before Ovadia.
Ovadia ran his eyes slowly over my face, then down to my chest and hands. He gave the same inspection to Yonaton, who was shorter and more solidly built. I expected Ovadia to refuse, but he raised his eyebrows and nodded, appearing pleased with our proposal. “Very well, two stout hearts are worth many strong arms. The throne belongs next to the King, on his left side. It is unacceptable to set it down in the throne room or to show any strain. If you feel it slipping, say ‘Where would you like it, sir?’ and I will come to your aid.”
We picked up the throne and immediately discovered it was heavier than it looked. The effort I saw on Yonaton’s face mirrored my own. Ovadia hesitated, but then took a step backward, directing us forward. At his nod, servants opened two tall wooden doors, and Ovadia backed into the throne room. It was long and narrow, with black basalt columns, carved like date palms and just as tall, marching in two lines down the center of the room. Beams of light shined through windows high in the southern wall. The King, a crown of woven gold on his head, sat on a raised platform three steps above the stone floor. The room held noblemen in dyed linen garments, soldiers bearing the emblem of the royal ox, commoners waiting to petition the King, and scribes recording all that occurred—about twenty people in all. We entered, and with great effort wiped the strain from our faces.
Ovadia walked in reverse ahead of us, twisting slightly to avoid showing his back to the King. His approaching presence parted the crowd as he directed us up the long aisle. I could see the tension creeping back into Yonaton’s face, and the muscles of my own jaw tightened. Both of us leaned forward, using the back of the throne to hide our faces from the King, but this only made its weight harder to carry. My arms burned, my back was screaming, and I could no longer keep the distress from my face. Hunched and struggling, we carried the throne between the columns to the foot of the dais, but to place it on the platform, we would have to lift it waist high and pass right before the King.
“Where shall we put it, sir?” The strain in Yonaton’s voice rang out like a bell.
Ovadia grabbed the back of the throne with two broad hands and lifted it with surprising power. “Right over here.” The three of us carried it over the steps with ease, and Yonaton and I were able to relax our expressions before passing the King. We set it down next to him and backed away, bowing as we went.
“Nicely done, Ovadia. It is truly as beautiful as you claimed.” A loud cheer came from outside, and everyone but the King turned toward the sound of the commotion. “Has someone just taken a jewel from the bear?”
“I believe so, my King.”
“A rather brutal form of entertainment.”
“Apparently quite popular in Tzidon. Princess Izevel thought it would amuse our guests.”
“They do sound as if they’re enjoying themselves. Still, we don’t need any more cripples in Shomron—I’m feeding quite enough already.”
Three long blasts echoed from outside the city. The King sat up tall and stately, a match for any of the pillars lining his great hall. “Could Tzidon have arrived already?” He sank back into his throne. “Ovadia, go and meet him outside the walls and escort him to me.”
“Very good, my King. What of his wife and daughter?”
“Show them to their accommodations first. Women are not fond of holding audience immediately after a long journey.” Ovadia bowed and turned to take his leave, motioning to the two of us to follow. “Wait a moment.” The King pointed to the kinnor slung across my back. “These boys. Are they the musicians you fetched from the prophets?”
I heard the probing question in the King’s voice and recalled the smirk from the guard at the palace gates. Now that the King saw that we were just boys, would he guess that Ovadia’s journey had nothing to do with musicians?
If Ovadia was ill at ease, his face belied it. “Yes, my King. These are two of the four I brought.”
“You said they are quite talented, correct?”
“Superb, my King.”
That was a risky thing for Ovadia to say. What if the King asked us to play and found us wanting? But the King had other ideas. “Bring them with you. It will make a nice impression for them to play upon his arrival.”
“An excellent idea, my King.” Ovadia bowed again and exited the throne room, with the two of us trailing closely behind.
Once out of the palace, we broke into a run, covering the distance down to the city gates in a quarter of the time it had taken us to climb up to the palace. My stomach growled—I hadn’t eaten since before the rehearsal. No time for food, though.
We passed through the gates, and Ovadia directed us to a small, grassy hill overlooking the western road. Hearing from Seguv and other travelers about Shomron, I’d always imagined it perched atop the highest mountain in Israel, but that wasn’t the case. Shomron was guarded by higher mountains on the north, east, and south, each surmounted by a watchtower. Only from the west, where there was no higher peak, could the chariots of Tzidon approach. I raised my hand to block the glare and strained my eyes to peer past the rich, brown coastal plain. I caught my breath at the sight of a smudge of distant blue along the horizon. The great sea! Until that moment, I knew it only through stories. Teeming with life and dangers, it was the gateway to the rest of the world.
“The two of you will play from here,” Ovadia said. “When they come into view, I will descend to greet them at the bottom of the hill.”
“Who are we waiting for?” Yonaton asked.
“King Ethbaal of Tzidon and his daughter Izevel, who is to marry King Ahav in two days’ time.”
“Where’s Tzidon?”
“It’s to the north of Israel, on the sea. The people of Tzidon are great sailors. King Ethbaal has made his capital city into the greatest port in the world.”
“Is that why King Ahav wants to marry his daughter?” I asked.
“Yes. An alliance with Tzidon will expand our ability to trade. The King expects this to bring great prosperity to the land.”
“Do you think it will?”
“The King’s reasoning is sound.”
Ovadia hadn’t really answered my question. Before I could ask another, a wedge of horsemen came into view, each bearing a pole flying a banner marked by a majestic cedar tree. Behind the horsemen thundered three chariots carrying spearmen and bowmen. They scanned the sides of the road, weapons gripped at the ready.
