Read Wisdom's Daughter: A Novel of Solomon and Sheba for Free Online

laughter at this brazen truth. “Tell me, Prince Jotham, does King Solomon the Wise desire nothing more of Sheba?”
    This time he hesitated before speaking, but still his words were as blunt as before. “My brother King Solomon would enter into agreements with Sheba. Trade must continue, spices flow safe along the Incense Road. A pact between our kingdoms is what King Solomon desires.”
    “And what does the king your brother offer that Sheba does not already possess? What does King Solomon own that Sheba lacks?” Something seemed to arouse her as she uttered the words; an intangible caress slid like perfumed smoke across her skin.
    “I do not know,” Prince Jotham said, “but I have brought scrolls from the king, and a scribe who has memorized all the scrolls say. Doubtless my brother has thought of something.”
    Does King Solomon know what manner of men carry his words? Still, such crude speech has saved us all endless hours of deference and debate before even beginning our bargaining. In exchange, I will turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to their blunt manner. For did she not also wish something of them—although they did not yet know it?
    “Rise, Prince Jotham of Judah, and know you are Sheba’s guest. And know also that the Queen of Sheba will speak with King Solomon’s scribe, but the queen alone can promise nothing.”
    As King Solomon’s envoy rose ungracefully to his feet, plainly baffled, she raised her hand. “The queen will consult our Mother Ilat in this matter; the queen will act as the goddess advises.” With that, she nodded, and the court eunuchs released the heavy golden cords; the curtains of leopard and embroidered silk fell before the ivory throne, hiding her from the court. A good ending, she thought, rising from the throne, and a decision
no one could quarrel with. A decision that committed her to nothing.
    Once more veiled from all but her intimates, she beckoned to the chief eunuch. And when he drew near, and bowed low, she smiled. “I have a task for you, Tamrin. Bring Prince Jotham of Judah to my garden.”
    “At once, Sun of our Days.” But however humble Tamrin’s words, however deep his bow, Bilqis clearly understood his deep disapproval.
    If the gods would grant me one wish — other than a queen for Sheba —I would ask for handmaidens and servants and eunuchs who had not tended me since before I grew breasts! Sometimes their care nearly stifled her—and their meticulous solicitude curbed most wild impulses almost before she uttered them.
    “Oh, it need not be at once,” she said, restraining her desire to remind Tamrin that she, not he, ruled as Queen of Sheba—even if he had served her mother. “But I must speak with him—I wish to learn more of this King Solomon than I shall hear in a public audience. And whatever you can learn …”
    “Of course, my queen. You may trust me for that.”
    Smiling, she laid her hand softly upon his bowed head. “I do. I trust you to bring me words that tell what sort of man King Solomon is—or at least, the sort of man his subjects think him.”
    Pleased still to be of such import, Tamrin bowed even lower, lifting the tassel of her girdle to his lips. “Light of our Eyes, you shall have what you desire. My slaves will glean knowledge from those uncouth barbarians until even King Solomon’s own mother shall know him less well than you.”
     
     
    In some acts, haste never prospered; if a Queen of Sheba mastered nothing else as she trained for the day the sun-crown would rest upon her hair, she learned to command patience.
    Fools battled life’s hungers, and in the end lost all.
    So Bilqis had been taught; so she ruled her own life. She had waited three full days, and now she would learn what sort of man King Solomon had sent to plead for him. And I will learn what sort of man King Solomon is — or seems to be to his trusted servant. She smiled, and spread the peacock feathers of her fan across the bench beside her. For this