To Be a King
By Hugh J. Cannon
Chapter 3
Synopsis: David, a descendant of John Hyrcanus, the founder of the Jewish monarchy, is a pretender to the throne now held by Herod Antipas. David and his friends attended a party at the palace — a party at which the dancer, Salome, asked for the head of John the Baptist. As the head was brought in, David in anger rebuked Herod and left the palace, taking the girl Ruth with him.
David’s favorite residence was not in Jerusalem. A home in Jericho, quite as comfortable and beautiful as the more pretentious habitation in the chief city, had been bequeathed to him by his departed parents; and it was to this place he came after the banquet given by Herod. He was dubious as to what course Herod would pursue. So flagrant and public had been Herod’s insulting manner, that it could not well be overlooked. Although David’s life had been singularly free from disturbing influences, his natural disposition was such that he could not flee from danger or difficulties, but had to face them squarely, whatever the results might be.
In addition to this, the young girl, Ruth, whom he had met for the first time, had made a deep impression on him. As he carried her, fainting, from the room, he felt that she was more to be desired than a kingdom. Her indisposition offered him an excuse for calling the next day to inquire about her health.
For Herod’s benefit, he let his intention of remaining in Jericho be known, and after waiting sufficiently long to give Herod’s officers time to seize him should they desire to do so, he called his servants and left the palace. His greatest anxiety was not what the tetrarch might think or do, for the timid Herod, he was certain, would not take any drastic action against one of great influence — at least not openly.
In what light Ruth would view his conduct troubled him vastly more. Her father, well known to David officially, had maintained a sphinx-like silence on the matter of the young man’s ambitions, although ample opportunity had been given him to speak. She herself had appeared to be an acquaintance of Zebulon’s, which made it appear that she, also, was on Herod’s side.
But David, looking back on the details of the evening, was unable to see wherein he could have done differently, offensive though his conduct may have appeared, without neglecting his obligation to the people. For in his honest judgment, it was his sacred duty to direct their destinies.
It was with impatience, therefore, on the day following the banquet, that he awaited an hour when he might properly call on the young lady, who had absorbed so much of his thought during the night.
His appearance on the streets attracted more than passing attention, and he soon learned that reports of his conduct on the previous evening were already abroad. The rabble, as well as people of note, apparently knew the story. However, the young man was gratified to see that most of those he met, and all for whose opinion he cared, were by no means unfriendly. He was even stopped by two former supporters of Herod and congratulated upon his courage.
Much elated, he approached the house where Ruth lived. It was a beautiful villa near the foothills, on the outskirts of the city. The gardens were among the choicest to be found anywhere in Jericho, which at the time was famed for its flowers.
Ruth was in the garden, and as he approached he was surprised at the rapid beating of his heart. His observed evidence of confusion on her part, but her mounting color soon receded, leaving her face pale.
“I have been anxious,” he explained after formal greetings were over, “lest the excitement of last evening might have affected you unfavorably, and as I contributed more than one man’s share to the tumult, I have come to inquire about you and apologize for conduct which may have seemed unpardonable.”
She surprised him with the direct question: “Do you think you did the proper thing?”
“Yes, I do,” he answered instantly. “In my opinion, a ruler who sheds innocent blood to gratify the whim of a woman, or for any other cause, is a murderer, and those who by their applause or silence condone such an act are also guilty. Still, had I been given time to consider the matter, I might have tempered my words somewhat.”
“Do you think I condoned it by applause, or even by my silence?”
“The fact that you were fainting indicates that you had no feeling but one of horror at what occurred.”
Ruth gave him a look of gratitude. “The truth is, I did not clearly hear Salome’s request, and when I did understand it, I thought it merely an ill-advised jest. It was very courageous of you to speak so boldly, and I have already heard of more than one influential man who commends your bravery. But was it not rash? Herod has great power here, and his father left him a bloody example. Of course he must view this as a public insult.”
“What would you have me do? Remain silent out of personal fear when it was my duty to speak the truth?”
“No, indeed! I believe one should always do the thing one believes to be right regardless of results, and I would have had you say exactly what you said; but that does not lessen my concern for your safety.”
The personal danger, great though it might be, was a small price to pay for the girl’s interest. David would needlessly have sought danger for such a reward. It was clear, too, that whatever her sympathies were before, they were not now with the tetrarch.
“In what light will Zebulon consider the matter?” David watched her narrowly as he asked the question.
Her frank answer relieved him: “Zebulon, as you must know, is an intimate associate of Herod’s and naturally would disapprove what you said, for he himself demanded the execution of that unfortunate man. And Zebulon is, I believe —”
The girl hesitated, then continued, “He is not so conscientious as some men. But I should not be saying such things to one who is almost a stranger to me.”
“Please do not view me as a stranger. For some reason I seem long to have known you, and beg for permission to become better acquainted.”
“I must go into the house now,” the girl said simply. “I hope no serious trouble will come to you because of this.”
David watched her as she walked up the path, then thoughtfully mounted his camel.
A t the gate of his own garden, David met Elihu.
“I have just come from Nicodemus,” the old man reported, “and he has signified his intention of joining us.”
Their attention was attracted by the derisive cries of children on the street who were making merry at the sight of a weather-beaten camel and rider.
“It is Lebanah, prophet of the wilderness,” said David.
“I know him well,” Elihu answered, “and esteem him most highly for his prophetic gift.”
The eremite approached with a speed which surprised David, who could hardly believe the ancient camel capable of such rapid strides. Clearly the old man was bearer of a message which demanded haste.
With impatience he accepted the hospitable attentions showered upon him, and even before they were concluded he said:
“David, I have important news for thee. And Elihu, too, will be interested. Perhaps thou dost not know that I have two kinsmen working as servants in Herod’s palace. This is told thee in strictest confidence, for their lives would be as the grass of the field if it were suspected that they reported to me the hideous actions of their masters. But I know thou art both discreet.
“This morning a private consultation was held in the palace by the tetrarch, pale and hollow-eyed, Herodias in much the same condition, and Zebulon. If one could judge from appearances, two of them at least had spent a tormented and sleepless night. They were discussing the events of last evening. Their careful plan for ultimately enthroning Herod over Judea had, they feared, reacted against them.
“They said that thy friends, David, instead of being turned against thee, were scarcely civil as they left the palace. But even more disturbing was the fact that some of those counted on to support Herod manifested strong disapproval of the im- pious murder. They were even outspoken in praising thee for thy courage in denouncing the crime.
“It seems that among those who thus declared themselves was Nicodemus, the man most desired among all the guests. They feel that because of his important following, his experience, and keen judgment, he must be won. Otherwise, their success is doubtful. When bidding the tetrarch good night, I understand Nicodemus withdrew a former promise to assist him.
“In the face of these facts, Herod thought to abandon his purposes. He foresaw danger of losing the position he already holds and suggested to Herodias and Zebulon that it might be better to confine their efforts to the labor of strengthening him therein. But they refused to listen.
“Rest not under that assurance. Coward that he is, these two have unlimited power over him. In the end he will do what they say. As thou mayest well suppose, neither Herod nor Zebulon will do anything themselves. Cowardice is one of the things they have in common. But Zebulon mentioned a man who is in his power and will do his bidding. This man will doubtless be the one through whom they strike.”
“Lebanah, I cannot believe personal danger awaits me or my friends, but still your story is disturbing. What can I do to protect those whose peril is due solely to their support of me? Shall I abandon my hopes of ruling over this people?”
“Never!” The old man spoke emphatically, and Elihu joined him. “If thou choosest wisely thou art to be a great king. That was the voice of the spirit when thou wast a mere babe. Proceed with thy plans. No immediate danger confronts thee, and I shall keep thee informed.”
“This is important, David,” Elihu added, “and I can believe all that Lebanah says. It confirms a fear which I have today discussed with a number of your friends. We have to deal with unscrupulous people and must take steps to learn of their plans. I shall make an immediate effort to get a man whom I can trust into Zebulon’s home as a servant. Lebanah can keep us informed as to what goes on in the palace, and my friend, if my plan succeeds will render the same service concerning Zebulon’s movements.”
David expostulated. “I abhor such methods.”
“Not more than I do,” said Elihu. “But this is a case when the welfare of an entire people is to be maintained.”
David had always cultivated the habit of prompt and decisive action. As he thoughtfully analyzed Ruth’s character there appeared a blending of beauty and goodness, a contagious and sprightly joyousness; but this exuberance of spirit was tempered by exactly the right amount of seriousness to make her an engaging and delightful companion. Indeed, in his eyes she was lacking in no desirable quality.
“What a queen she would make!” he often exclaimed to himself. “How dignified and yet how gracious! Her bearing alone would demand homage from the proud and win it from the meek. Ruth, Queen of Judea!” The idea pleased him, and he thought of it often.
As a result of these meditations his visit to her home, made on the day after Herod’s banquet, was followed in rapid succession by many others.
As he was preparing to say good-bye after one of these visits, Ruth’s dearest friend, Martha, came dancing merrily into the garden. She stopped short in some embarrassment upon seeing that she was interrupting a farewell, and was about to withdraw when Ruth called her and presented the young man to her.
Martha was bubbling over with mirth. “Now see what your lack of frankness has done,” she said artlessly to Ruth. “If you had told me when you sent word the reason that you could not make the promised visit this afternoon, I should not have thrust myself into such a — such a — well, to speak plainly, such a delightful scene.”
“You are very childish, Martha.” Ruth was blushing furiously, and David could feel the color rising in his own cheeks.
“Of course I’m childish, and like all children I do love color, and I have not seen such perfect tints in a long time.” And her saucy eyes wandered from one crimson face to the other.
“Martha is an incessant chatterer,” Ruth apologized. “She simply can- not miss an opportunity to tease me. And, by the way, she is the niece of your friend Nicodemus.”
“Then I have additional reason for being pleased to meet you,” David responded.
Martha became momentarily serious. “You are frequently discussed in our home by my father and uncle.”
“In no unfriendly spirit, I hope.”
“Oh, no. Not only are they bitter against the tetrarch, but they are also ardent admirers of yours, although in the beginning they were pledged to Herod. But speaking of him,” Martha rambled on, “he seems to be losing followers every day since you denounced him so courageously. What will he do? Of course you can- not answer, for he doesn’t know himself, though he can hardly allow such a rebuke to pass unnoticed. Father says if the tetrarch dared he would resort to Herod the Great’s favorite tactic, violence, and at once avenge the affront and rid himself of a troublesome opponent.”
Ruth was so startled by her friend’s suggestion that she did not attempt to conceal her alarm. Martha patted her arm reassuringly. “Don’t be disturbed. I’m sure Herod will not dare molest your friend.”
Then the desire to tease again took possession of her. “But another admirer of yours, Zebulon, is on the side of the tetrarch. Have you cast him off?”
“Martha, you almost offend me. I have not cast Zebulon off, for at no time have I given him the slightest encouragement. You well know I have often been really afraid of him.”
The visitor embraced her friend warmly. “Now don’t be angry, Ruth. You should have learned long since that I love to see your eyes flash at my senseless teasing.”
Ruth was somewhat mollified. “Of course what you say about David’s safety surprises and disturbs me.”
“Have no fear because of my foolish words,” said Martha. “There is a vast difference between beheading a poor prisoner whose only followers are among the rabble, and harming one of influence whose friends cannot be awed by anyone less powerful than Caesar.”
Martha proceeded to say that the timorous Herod was disturbed because of the execution of John and its effect upon the populace. Also, having heard of some marvelous works done by one who had recently come among them, Herod feared that his victim had risen from the dead. Out of curiosity, her father had carefully investigated the matter.
“And what did he learn?” Ruth asked.
“That such a supposition is absurd, of course. The men are about the same age, and there is, to be sure, a slight resemblance, which is perfectly natural, for they are said to be related. This new man is a carpenter from Nazareth and really has an unnatural power over the people. He has won a great following in Galilee, usually from among the poor and ignorant classes, and even here in Jericho many believe, because of his magic, that he is a prophet.”
“This must be the man about whom Lebanah speaks,” David suggested.
“Lebanah? I’ve heard of him,” Martha continued. “Perhaps this is the man. He is fearless. Not long since he was warned that Herod would kill him if he remained in these parts, and he showed his utter disdain by openly calling the tetrarch a fox.”
“He must be a prophet,” David commented.
“But perhaps not, after all,” said Ruth; “everybody knows that Herod is a fox or something worse.”
Then Martha’s love of teasing again became apparent, and David left hurriedly rather than face more of it.
(To be continued)