Bathsheba sat heavily, covered her face, and wept in defeat. She was a woman—albeit a young one—and had no say in the matter. The decision regarding whom she would marry had never been hers, and she’d always known in her heart that David was as far beyond her reach as a star in the heavens. She was nothing but a foolish, earthbound child clinging to her dreams, but, oh, how it hurt to have them wrenched from her. Years ago, David had been chosen by God and anointed by Samuel to one day be king of Israel. Who was she to think she was worthy to be his wife—or even his concubine? What wretched misery to fall in love with a man who was a king!
“If only he’d been an ordinary shepherd . . .”
Her mother stamped her foot. “Enough of this foolishness! Enough dreaming! I will not have my daughter act like a selfish child! You should thank God David is more than a shepherd! Where would our people be if he’d never left the pastures and his father’s flocks? Even if you were the daughter of a king and worthy to marry him, what then? Could you bear to watch him take more wives and concubines? A king must build a strong house and preserve the kingdom. You would have to put your own desires aside for the sake of a nation that depends upon him.”
Her mother grasped her shoulders tightly. “Your father has chosen a fine man for you. Uriah is good and decent, and you will be his only wife. David has never so much as glanced at you, Bathsheba, but Uriah looks upon you as though you were a pearl of great price. You will be his most prized possession.”
Bathsheba felt ashamed. “I have nothing against Uriah, Mother. It’s only that I . . .” Tears streamed down her face. She knew it was useless to say another word. Could she change the inevitable?
Her mother let go of her abruptly and moved away. “No one expects you to love Uriah right away, Bathsheba. In time, you will—if you give him a chance.” She turned and looked at her. “But for now, you will show Uriah the respect and obedience he deserves as your husband. If you don’t, I will take a whip to you myself!”
Bathsheba raised her chin. “I will marry Uriah, Mother, and I will show him the respect and obedience he deserves. But love cannot be commanded.”
For as long as she could remember, her heart and soul had belonged to David. And she knew that would never change, no matter what others demanded of her.
* * *
Bathsheba never expected David to come to her wedding. When she saw him through the colored gauze of her veils, she almost wept at the pain, knowing he had come not to see her become a wife, but to honor his friend, her husband.
Uriah was dressed like a king for the ceremony. Even then, her husband paled in comparison to her true sovereign lord, who wore a simple tunic and leather girdle. David outshone every man at the ceremony! And even though he placed a groom’s crown upon Uriah’s head, there could be no comparison between them. There was a nobility about David that proclaimed his place among men. No one was more handsome and graceful. No one could surpass his gifts of music and dance. No one held a position of greater power, nor had a more humble, tender heart. David asked for no special treatment, but everyone deferred to him out of love and respect. God had blessed David in every way.
The wedding feast proceeded with Bathsheba in a haze. She was relieved when Uriah left her side to greet David. They laughed together and shared a goblet of wine while she sat on the dais and watched. It was David who drew her husband back to her side. It was David who took up a pitcher and replenished Uriah’s cup and then filled hers. She brushed his fingers with her own as she took the goblet, sensing his surprise. Did he think she was bold?
“May the Lord bless your house with many children, Uriah,” David said grandly, and in a voice loud enough to carry. He raised his cup high. Bathsheba raised her eyes and looked into his, and for an infinitesimal moment, she felt something change between them. Heat spread over her skin. “And,” he continued, “may all your sons and daughters look like your wife and not like you.” He looked into her eyes as he sipped, his own strangely dark and perplexed.
The men around them laughed, Uriah loudest of all. David blinked and then laughed as well, slapping Uriah on the back and saying something to him that was lost in the din surrounding her. Uriah nodded and looked at her proudly, his eyes glowing. David’s eyes met hers again, and her stomach fluttered strangely. The moment was both enticing and terrifying. When Uriah looked at her, she felt nothing. But David’s look made her cheeks burn and her heart hammer. She lowered her eyes, startled by the powerful feelings surging inside her. She glanced around cautiously, wondering if anyone had noticed the effect David had upon her. She was trembling. Afraid, she looked at her mother, but she was dancing and laughing with the other women, and her father and grandfather were drinking with the men.
Turning her head shyly, she encountered David’s stare. It shook her deeply, for she instinctively understood its meaning. Exultation was overwhelmed by despair.
Why does he look at me as a woman now, when it’s too late? Why couldn’t he have noticed me a new moon ago?
Uriah came and sat with her upon the dais. He took her hand and kissed it, his eyes bright from admiration and too much wine. “I am blessed among men,” he said thickly. “There is not a man here, including our king, who does not envy me such a beautiful young wife.”
She smiled back tremulously, embarrassed by his impassioned compliment.
The wedding feast wore on until she was emotionally exhausted. She forced a smile until her cheeks ached. She pretended to be happy, pretended she wasn’t drowning in a sea of sorrow. Twice more, David looked at her. And twice, she looked back at him, fighting against the tears. He always looked away quickly, as though caught doing something that made him ashamed. And that made her suffer all the more.
Oh, David, David, what a wretched woman I am. I love you! I’ll always love you the same way I have since I was a little girl. Do you remember how I followed you to the stream of En-gedi and watched you pray? I was just a child, but love caught me and held me tight in its grip. Nothing can kill it. And now I’m married to a man I can never love because I gave my heart to you years ago!
When David rose and left, she was almost relieved.
* * *
Uriah was a man hardened by years of fighting the Philistines, Amalekites, and King Saul, but Bathsheba found him surprisingly kind as well. “I don’t know anything about women, Bathsheba. I’ve spent my entire life training for battle and fighting alongside David. And that won’t change. My allegiance will always be to David first, for he is God’s anointed. But I promise I will take care of you. And if anything should happen to me, you will have enough so that you will always have a roof over your head and food to eat.” His hands were calloused from using his sword, and he shook when he touched her. “Please don’t cry.”
She wept because Uriah deserved to be loved, and she had no love left to give him.
* * *
As the months passed, Bathsheba gave up her dreams and fulfilled her duties to her husband. She carried water from the well. She washed, cooked, cleaned, and carded wool. She wove cloth and made garments for her husband. She did everything she knew how to make her husband’s life comfortable and pleasant. And though she did come to respect him, she could not will herself to fall in love with him.
Uriah spent most of his time with the other mighty men, training David’s army, sparring, talking, and planning late into the night. Sometimes he brought soldiers home with him. He told her to keep her face covered so the men wouldn’t stare when she served them. He told her to cover her face when she left the house. “There are rough men among David’s army, men who have no respect for women.”
“I’ve known such men all my life, Uriah. No one has ever bothered me before.”
“Before, you were a child, Bathsheba. Now, you’re a beautiful young woman. And you are my wife. Obey me.” He tipped her chin and looked into her eyes. “It is always wise to avoid trouble.”
Uriah and the other mighty men talked freely while they ate and drank, and by liste
ning, Bathsheba learned much of what was going on in Canaan. She knew within hours that Joab, David’s commander, had murdered a man in vengeance. She heard how furious David was, and how he mourned the murdered man. She was among the people when David condemned Joab’s actions as evil. She was afraid for David because Joab was a powerful man, and a proud one as well. Why would David retain Joab as commander over his army?
Nothing came of David’s reproach, but soon more news changed the course of Bathsheba’s life. Ishbosheth, son of Saul and heir to the throne of Israel, was murdered. The men who came with news of the assassination thought David would be pleased to have his rival removed. Now the way was clear for David to assume his rightful place as king over all of Israel! They even brought the head of Ishbosheth with them to prove their foul deed. Rather than rewarding them, though, David had them executed. He ordered their hands and feet cut off and their bodies hung up beside the pool of Hebron.
Many of the men Uriah brought home were violent, more comfortable in war than in peace. Her house was constantly filled with stories of intrigue surrounding David. Why was there such cruelty in the world? And if David was ever crowned king over all Israel, would there be those who would try to assassinate him, just like Saul and Ishbosheth before him?
Often, she would remember her mother’s words: “The life of a king is never easy. . . . Better to love a poor man . . .” It was not easy to be the wife of a warrior either, for she never knew from one battle to the next whether she would be left a childless widow. “I live in fear every day, wondering if I’ll lose your father,” her mother admitted when they talked at the community well.
What would happen to Uriah’s household if he died now? Bathsheba had no children, but not for want of trying. She wondered if her husband was disappointed in her, but if he was, she saw no sign of it. Two years had come and gone since their wedding feast, and he still treated her with kindness.
All the tribes of Israel gathered at Hebron, appearing before David and declaring that he was God’s anointed. “We are all members of your family,” the high priest said to him before the people. “For a long time, even while Saul was our king, you were the one who really led Israel. And the Lord has told you, ‘You will be the shepherd of My people Israel. You will be their leader.’”
Bathsheba’s heart swelled with pride as she stood among the crowd and watched David make a covenant with the people and be anointed king of Israel. He was only thirty years old, and yet the elders of all the tribes bowed down before him. And Uriah stood nearby, one of David’s bodyguards and closest friends, raising his hands to heaven and shouting in exultation.
And then David went to war again, Uriah at his side.
* * *
Bathsheba waited with the other wives to receive word about the battle for Zion, and when it came, she cried out in joy with all the rest.
“They’ve taken Jerusalem!”
But neither David nor Uriah came home to Hebron. Instead, they sent a contingent of warriors to bring the families to the newly conquered mountain stronghold. Building commenced all around the City of David, strengthening Zion for defense. Walls were built. Hiram, king of Tyre, sent cedar trees and carpenters and stonemasons to build a house for David. And Uriah chose a stone house near the site of the king’s palace.
Still, peace was elusive. The Philistines gathered against David, spreading out across the valley of Rephaim. And once again, Uriah was called away to war. Bathsheba cried this time, for she had come to care very deeply for him.
“Don’t fear for me. The Lord is on our side!” was his parting exhortation. His words were of no comfort to her. She had no son to carry on Uriah’s name or to take care of her when she was old.
Word returned that the Philistines were defeated at Baal-perazim. When Uriah came home with an idol, Bathsheba protested. It was the first time in their marriage that she dared argue with her husband. But she knew how detestable idols were to the Lord God. “Would it please God to know you have set that loathsome thing in our house?”
“It means nothing. Everyone carried something from the field of battle. It’s a memento of our triumph. Nothing more.”
“David wouldn’t bring something unclean into his house. You should’ve destroyed it!”
His eyes darkened with the fierce pride of a victorious warrior. “Don’t tell me what I should’ve done! What are you afraid of, woman? It’s nothing but clay. Did it save the man who owned it?”
“It’s a thing of evil, Uriah!”
He tossed his armor aside and glared at her. “Do you think I don’t know there is only one God? It’s the Lord who has given David victory on every side! And you’ll leave that idol where it stands as a reminder of a battle I fought alongside my king, the battle I helped win!”
Ashamed of having spoken out so forcefully, Bathsheba said no more.
The Philistines regrouped, and again, Uriah was called away to war. The Philistines were like a plague that lingered. The Lord gave David victory again, and the Philistines were struck down from Geba as far as Gezer. But Bathsheba knew it would never be over. Men’s hearts seemed bent upon war. Uriah’s most of all.
Uriah didn’t return home. It was her mother who told her that her father and Uriah had gone with David to Baalah of Judah to bring the Ark of God back to Jerusalem. Bathsheba ran down the road with the other women and wept in relief when they returned. Her joy was quickly dampened by their manner, for the Ark was not with them. David looked neither to the right nor to the left as he rode by on his mule. His face was dust-covered and tense. When she spotted Uriah, Bathsheba kept pace with him along the road. An air of defeat hung over them. David gave orders to disperse the men and went up to his house and his wives.
Uriah came to her then. She’d never seen him so tired. She lowered her shawl from her face and searched his eyes.
“What’s happened, Uriah?”
“David’s afraid to bring the Ark to Jerusalem.”
“David’s never been afraid of anything.”
His jaw clenched. He took her arm and turned her toward home. “He’s afraid of God. We all are. Uzzah, the priest’s son, is dead. He laid hands on the Ark when the oxen stumbled, and the Lord struck him down. I’ve never seen a man die so fast.” His hand loosened. “He went down as though hit by a thunderbolt.”
“Where’s the Ark now?”
“At the house of Obed-edom of Gath, where it will stay until the Lord tells David otherwise.”
With Uriah home, the house became a gathering place again as soldiers came often to pass time with Bathsheba’s husband. Sometimes they lingered late into the night. They could talk of little else but the continuing reports of how God was blessing the household of Obed-edom. After three months of such tidings, David summoned his mighty men and went down for the Ark. Uriah was among them.
* * *
From a great distance came the sound of trumpets and shouting, announcing the return of David’s mighty men. Women swept out into the street and ran to meet the procession. Jubilant, Bathsheba raced down the mountain road with them. Sunlight shone off the Ark and she thrilled at the sight of it. Each time the men who were carrying it had gone six steps, they stopped and waited so David could sacrifice an ox and a fattened calf. Trumpets sounded. And David danced with all his might. Men, women, and children sang and wept. Stripping off his outer garment, David continued leading the procession, dancing in his tunic. The people caught his zeal for the Lord. Men sang out praise after praise to God as women joined David in dancing.
The hard years were over at last. God had protected David and given him victory on every side! God had made him king over all Israel! The nations could not stand against him because God was on his side! The Lord had strengthened him and built an army of mighty men around him, and now the Ark would rest upon the mountain where Abraham had once been ready to sacrifice his only son, Isaac, to God!
Bathsheba’s racing blood sang with joy. She could not stand still and watch. If she didn’t cry o
ut in praise and dance, she would go mad. Laughing and weeping, she tore away her shawl, lifting it high like a canopy over her head as she twirled, dipped, twisted, and was caught up in the ecstasy of the moment.
Peace would reign at last! No enemy could defeat them.
* * *
Yet, crouched at the door was a greater enemy than those who camped around Israel. And a greater battle was coming—one that could tear a nation to pieces. The battle would not take place in the mountains, valleys, or plains of Israel. It would take place in the wilderness of the human heart.
TWO
“Hanun did what?”
David leaned forward, scarcely able to believe the news he was hearing. He’d sent ambassadors to show respect for Nahash, the old king who’d allowed his father and mother to live among the Ammonites during the years King Saul had pursued him. He’d intended to make clear to Hanun, Nahash’s son, that he had no intentions of invading. Yet now, he learned that his ambassadors had been insulted. Far worse, they’d been humiliated!
The dust-covered, sweating young messenger stepped closer and repeated his news in an embarrassed whisper. “King Hanun accused your ambassadors of being spies, sire!” He grimaced as he rasped, “He had half their beards shaved off and their tunics cut to their buttocks. While his entire court laughed, he ordered them out of his palace!”
David shot to his feet. The men clustered in small groups around the court fell silent an instant before the room buzzed with whispered questions and speculations.
Joab had watched the exchange between David and the messenger with narrowed eyes, while Ahithophel and Eliam left their companions and strode across the room.
“Quiet!” Ahithophel shouted above the din. “The king speaks!”
David wished he hadn’t shown his anger. He should have left the room with the messenger and heard the news in private. Then he could have heard everything and thought over what course he would take before the men knew what had happened. Joab’s face was rigid. David knew he was ready to go to war, hungry for battle. Looking around the court, David saw they all were. Often he despaired at being around such violent men. Yet, what right had he to grumble to God, when his own blood was hot and crying out for revenge against Hanun?