The Sons of Isaac(136)

Down below her in the midst of her city she could see the great oval temple of Ilumquh, sometimes called the place of meeting, sitting like an open jewel box in the midst of oleanders and small bursts of bright flowers. Her eyes followed the royal avenue lined with palms up to the wall that almost surrounded her palace. From here the palace with its whitewashed walls and tall pillars marking the entrance hall seemed small and of little consequence.

She sighed. She supposed she had been wrong to make so few changes. Everything was old and familiar but dusty and worn. It was still a man’s palace with a man’s rougher tastes. Even her own rooms contained the furnishings her father had chosen.

She noticed the market was now almost deserted and the huddled houses of her loyal subjects seemed lifeless and empty. Almost everyone was at the temple. In a few moments everything would change. The people would pour back into the market and the eight gates of the city would be opened for traders. The traders all came from the south and the west or even the north but almost never from the east. To the east lay the great empty quarter and the dam that proved a discouragement to caravans.

For one moment she felt free and invincible. She was the leopard goddess of Sheba and no one, not even the High Priest, dared dictate to her. Then suddenly the troubling matter of her marriage became oppressive as she realized that her uncle and cousin with all the tribesmen were undoubtedly back at the palace waiting for her answer. If she didn’t agree willingly, they would manage to force her with omens, predictions, and foretellings that frightened the people. She was not as free and invincible as she had liked to believe and her time was short.

There was always the fearful alternative, marriage to the god Ilumquh. She could not imagine what that would mean, but suddenly it seemed a fair alternative. It would be only for a night. Marriage to her cousin would never end. She shivered thinking of it.

The sun was now high in the sky, and its warm arms were reaching out to every living thing. Dhat Hamym was the sun’s name. She was the lovely consort to the moon god, but they never seemed to meet. She wondered briefly if Dhat Hamym would be jealous to find Ilumquh had taken a human wife.

She raised her arms to Dhat Hamym and then bowed down before her. “Please don’t be jealous if the leopard goddess of Sheba chooses Ilumquh rather than a mortal.”

There was no answer. Dhat Hamym neither hid her shining face behind a cloud nor frowned. Instead there was the encouraging warmth of her rays. Bilqis waited, but there was no change and finally she said, “I’ll choose the god Ilumquh. It’s better I surrender to a god than to a man who will try to take my throne.”

She motioned to her Nubian eunuchs and immediately the howdah was brought and she was helped into it. She was not happy about her decision, but she was determined to end the frustration and this seemed to be the only way.

Back at the palace she was told the High Priest was waiting for her in her private reception room. She turned toward her own rooms. “Let him wait,” she said to the astonishment of those standing nearby. “It’s he that is doing the fishing, not me.”

“Bring the Egyptian,” she ordered as she entered her rooms, snatched up a brass mirror, and sank down onto an ebony stool.

The Egyptian came and with her all the women of the bed chamber. They had heard that the High Priest was waiting, and they were curious to see what Bilqis would do. “I will go to the priest in mourning wearing no makeup and no jewelry,” she said.

There was a gasp of astonishment that Bilqis enjoyed thoroughly. She tossed her head and glanced at them pleased to see that they were all cringing in awe of her.

When she finally appeared in the reception room, she was composed and sure of herself. She noticed with satisfaction that the High Priest could hardly recognize her. She saw his eyes travel over the black robes she wore and then linger on the lovely crown of Sheba. Again and again his eyes returned to her face, which was painted with the chalk white of mourning and to the veil that covered the lower part of her face leaving only her eyes free. This veil was worn usually when talking with foreigners or dignitaries of another tribe, and it was now meant as a quiet affront to the High Priest and her own tribesmen.

He, for his part, was dressed in his most ornate robes, and his long fingers were covered with rings. She noticed this because he kept fingering the fur trim on his robe and pulling at his short beard. His priestly turban sat well down on his forehead, making his nose seem enormous and his eyes protrude.

He was surrounded by dignitaries. Among them she immediately recognized her own chief counselor, her uncle, and her cousin Rydan, the young man they all wanted her to marry. She noticed that Rydan stood with his chin jutting out and a look of injured defiance about him. It was obvious they expected her to agree to marry him, and he was ready to accept her.