The Queen of Judah - Part 2

Ooops, it has been more than a few weeks since I posted part 1.  More like a few months.  Anyway, here is part 2 of the story of the Queen of Judah.

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“Joash, come here! Joash!” The young nurse maid called her fast growing charge before muttering to herself, “Where is that boy?”

She looked around the courtyard.  There were too many columns, curtains and passageways where a boy and his friends could hide.  They liked to hide because there wasn’t much else to do while confined to the temple grounds; a series of courtyards with small rooms around the edges.  She glanced towards the entrance to the sanctuary.  Recently, Joash had taken to going in there to visit his Uncle and guardian, the High Priest Jehoiada, knowing full well that she couldn’t follow as the area was forbidden to women.  Nevertheless, she walked over to the doorway where a young priest was lounging against the wall.

“Has the young Master come by?” She asked.  Everyone knew who, or rather what, the young Master was (except possibly the young master himself) but no one said the word out loud or even whispered it, to do so was treason.  The pesky young Joash, at seven years old, was the rightful King of Judah.  However, his grandmother the evil (another widely understood but never mentioned word) Queen Athaliah was currently ruling the Kingdom.

The priest dipped his head slightly in confirmation.

“Can you please ask him to come out? It is time for his lessons.”

The priest half shrugged as he straightened himself up and turned to look through the doorway.  The nurse saw him wave at someone hidden from her view.  The next she knew, High Priest Jehoiada filled the doorway, his hands on Joash’s shoulders.

“I have been giving him lessons of a different kind.  I apologise for the delay.” Jehoiada gently pushed Joash towards his nurse.

“I do not want more lessons.” said Joash more politely than his nurse expected.  “I would like to leave the temple, to go outside and see the world.”

“Soon, my boy.  Soon.” Jehoiada promised, “The time is not right yet and you still have a little more to learn.  Be good and go with your nurse.”

“Yes, Uncle.” He sighed and followed his nurse to his aunt, Jehosheba, who was waiting under a portico, sitting on a stool in the shade.

Jehosheba was teaching Joash the history of his people, the Chosen People of the one true God.  She was near the end of the story of their wise ancestor Solomon and wondered how Joash would feel when she told the stories of their more recent ancestors.  She wouldn’t tell him his own story or the story of his father and Grandparents; not yet, that was a story for another time when he was older and could better cope with the horror of it all.  However, he knew enough about his grandmother that perhaps he would not be too shocked.  Jehosheba hoped and prayed that Joash, having grown up in the Temple, would do better than many of his ancestors and not turn away from the right path.  She feared history was against him.

Just then, a horse galloped into the courtyard.  A dusty man rapidly dismounted and ran towards the sanctuary, leaving a passing priest to grab the reigns.  He wore the robes and jewels of a priest.  Jehosheba saw his priestly breastplate bouncing on his chest as he ran to the sanctuary door, flashing jewelled colours.

“He’s in a hurry.” noted Joash, easily distracted from his lessons.

“Indeed he is.  He must have an urgent message for your Uncle.”  She didn’t comment on the rusty red streaks she had observed on the man’s robes.  It was an all too frequent sight under her mother’s rule.  Jehosheba was also now distracted.

The sound of a scuffle came from the temples gates.  It was closely followed by the sounds of the gates slamming shut.

“Hmph.  I will never get to go outside.” Joash complained.

“Not if you don’t learn not to sulk.  You must learn to be patient and wait for the right time.  Your Uncle will know.  Be guided by him.” Jehosheba counselled, privately thinking that the boy King would leave the Temple all too soon, either alive or dead.  The news from outside grew grimmer each day.

The outrages her mother, Queen Athaliah, committed were getting worse.  Like her nephew, it was too long since Jehosheba had left the Temple, fearing for her life, so she only heard the news second hand and she wondered if the worst outrages were kept from her.  Having rescued her nephew from certain death in the Palace, she was high on her mother’s hit list.  The Queen had callously killed all of Joash’s brothers to take the throne.  Jehosheba shuddered, unable to comprehend how a mother, a grandmother, could do such a thing.  She smiled at her beloved Nephew, relived that her mother’s depravity had not yet breached the sanctity of the temple.  She feared it was only a matter of time.

“Can we finish the lesson now so that I can watch was is going on?  It looks exciting.” said Joash.

The two of them watched as men dashed back and forth across the courtyard.  Over the next little while, it looked like all of the men in the Temple were converging on the sanctuary.

Joash looked up at his Aunt, “Can I go too? To see what’s happening?”

Jehosheba smiled gently at him to hide both her fear and her curiosity, “Wait.  Your Uncle will send for you when it is the right time.”

“But it is never the right time.”  Joash sighed.

“Ah, but it will be the right time once, and only once.  Every other time is wrong.  So you must wait.  And so must I.”  Jehosheba wished once again that she was allowed to go beyond the door into the Sanctuary.  It did not seem fair but then, not much did.  “Now, Back to your lessons.”

Joash groaned as he slumped back down onto his stool.

Not much later, the young priest who had been guarding the door earlier emerged from the sanctuary and came over to the pair sitting in the Portico.

“Jehoiada would like Joash to join him. He has a plan and it must be enacted quickly to take her by surprise.”  The man explained, without needing to clarify who “her” was.

“But he is not old enough.” Jehosheba gasped as she pulled Joash to her.  Still seeing the babe she had smuggled out of the palace six long years ago.

The priest shrugged.  “He will have to be, Mother.  There is no more time.  She has plans too and this sanctuary may no longer be safe.”

She sighed and let go of her Nephew, pushing him towards the priest, her son.

“Do whatever your Uncle says.” Jehosheba urged, trusting her husband’s judgement completely.

“Always.”  The boy smiled his promise at her with a shout as he ran for the doorway.

Waiting there, Jehoiada raised a sceptical eyebrow before saying, “Before you do anything, I will tell you a story.  Your story.”

Time to read part 1, if you haven’t already done so, or to read it again.

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A little earlier…

Jehoiada took a deep breath, knowing he that in this moment was finally stepping beyond the point of no return.  He was now fully committed to a plan that was treason; but only if they lost.  Looking at the bloodied priest who had dashed into the temple only a few hours ago, he knew that both paths could end abruptly in death, so really, looking at it like that, they had nothing to lose.   He had gone into the Holy of Holies uncertain and come out confident that only his plan gave them a chance of life.  He stood in front of a crowd of men: priests and soldiers.  He spoke of what had happened and of what was to come.

“Find the commanders, both Azariahs, Ishmael, Masseiah and Elishaphat.  Be discrete.”  Jehoiada ordered four of the junior priests. “Her latest plans will be beyond anything they can stand, so they will be for us.”

The priests ran to the Temple gate before slowing down to a nonchalant walk outside so as not to attract unwanted attention from those loyal to the Palace.  Next, Jehoiada pulled a large wooden key from a deep pocket and looked at it with some satisfaction.

“Come!  Follow me.” He waved over several more of the young priests, who were also his sons.

He led them through the temple to a less used corner where there was a sturdy door in the wall with a guard standing nearby.  Jehoiada nodded to the guard before inserting the solid wooden key into the keyhole and carefully turning it, not wanting to break the fragile old mechanism.

Pushing the door open, Jehoiada revealed a storeroom; a room full of spears and shields.  The other priests gasped.

“You are responsible for these.  They are relics from the army of the great King David. See that they are ready for battle or at least appear to be so.” He told the priests.  “They will be given to the soldiers who the Queen has disarmed.  She rightly fears a coup.”  With that, he handed the key over to one of the priests, his oldest son, and left them to inspect the weapons and returned to the inner courtyard.

It was at this point that Jehoiada called for his nephew to reveal to him his story.  Every man in the courtyard listened in, many hearing the details for the first time.

When the tale was finished, Jehoiada was called to the outer courtyard where Jehosheba and the nurse were watching from the shadows.

Five soldiers stood in the outer courtyard; all had the stance of those used to command.

“Thank you for coming.” Jehoiada started. “As you may be aware, She is planning to disband the currently army and bring in mercenaries in your place.  She insults you, the inherited army of Judah.  I have a promise for you, if you support the rightful King Joash, the heir of Ahaziah, and the return to the laws of David and Moses, you will retain your command and your sons after you.”

The five men nodded sharply, almost in unison. 

The first Azariah spoke first, “Joash survives? There were rumours.”

The second Azariah asked, “What do you intend?”

“A show of force, on the next Sabbath, the day of the true God.” Jehoiada replied.

“She has taken our weapons.” advised Ishmael.

“We have David’s weapons.”

“You have an answer for everything.  I am impressed.” said Masseiah

“Why did you wait so long?” asked Elishaphat

“Joash was a babe when my wife rescued him from the palace.  He is old enough now and time has run out, the clock* is dry.”

The five men nodded again, apparently accepting Jehoiada’s explanation.

“And the plan?” the second Azariah asked again.

“Go to all corners of Judah and bring back the Levites and men of Judah by the next Sabbath day for a show of force and to guard the King.”

“Her personal guard is small in number and ill-disciplined. She has not built up their strength yet.” reported Elishaphat.

The five men looked at each other and yet again nodded.

“We will hold you to your promise” said Ishmael.

“Of course.” agreed Jehoiada.

“We will go.  Look for us on the eve of the Sabbath.  We will send others ahead of us.”

“I will spread rumours of a festival so that we can gather unnoticed.” Jehoiada assured them.

The five men saluted the High Priest and departed from the temple.

****************************************************

By the Sabbath eve, most areas of the temple were crowded with Levite men.  As each group arrived, Jehoiada reminded them of the promise, “A descendant of the great King David shall once again sit on the throne.”

He explained to them the plan, “A third of the Levites and priests on duty will watch the door, a third the Queen’s palace and a third the city gate. The rest will be in the courtyard.  The Levites will guard the King.”

The Levites and other men of Judah promised their loyalty to the true King, the boy Joash, and their willingness to stand against the evil Queen.

The Levite woman who had come with their menfolk saw to their comfort, making sure there was sufficient food and enough space and comfort to rest overnight.

Early on the Sabbath day, Jehoiaida’s priestly sons brought the soldiers King David’s weapons.  The soldiers took guard around the King.  The Levites and other men of Judah were in place and ready for action.

High Priest Jehoiada and his sons brought young Joash to the centre of the crowd, near the Altar.  Joash stood proudly, pleased to be the centre of attention, and surveyed the crowed as Jehoiada places a crown on his head.  He looked as regal as any follower could wish.

“Long live the King!” rang out followed by spontaneous cheers.

Jehoiada smiled.  His could not have planned it any better.

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The sound of yelling and of stomping feet penetrated even the thick palace walls, disturbing Queen Athaliah, who was having a late breakfast after a night of what she had thought was delightful debauchery.

“What is that noise?” She demanded of her companions.

The two bleary eyed men who were sharing her breakfast shrugged as they continued to eat.  They had been awake most of the night, performing unspeakable acts.

She gave both a disgusted look as she approached a small window, disappointed by their lack of stamina.  A cheer rose up.  She turned her ear to the space to try and grasp the words.

“I am Queen! Why does not one tell me what is happening?  I must know.”  She glanced at the men, who were oblivious to everything other than food and drink, and left the room in frustration.

She walked along the very corridor through which her daughter, Jehosheba, had fled with Joash six years earlier.

Her personal guards were waiting at the palace entrance and they followed as she crossed the courtyard to the gate.

“My lady, it may not be wise to go out, there is a disturbance.” the senior officer warned.

“No one dare threaten me.   I am the Queen.  I must know what is going on.”  She strode through the gate towards the noise.  No words could be distinguished now.  There were trumpets and drums and singing; happy sounds, which revolted her.

As she approached the Temple, she saw Jehoiada through the gate, with a crowned boy beside him; a boy who looked very like her son, Ahaziah.  Standing behind them was her treacherous daughter.

Feeling betrayed, Athaliah tore at her clothes and cried out, “Treason! Arrest them! Treason!”

The crowd turned as one to look at her and suddenly, she was alone.  Her guards had faded into the crowd.

“Bring her here!” called Jehoiada.

She was surrounded by soldiers loyal to the true King.

And that was the end of the Queen of Judah.

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*Clocks at this time were water clocks with time measured by how much water had drained out of a container.

The story of Athaliah and Jehosheba is told in 2 Kings 8:26 to 11:16 & 2 Chronicles 22:10 to 23-15.

Athaliah became queen c. 841 BC.

There appears to be some debate about the exact details of the how the various people mentioned were related, so I have gone with what I think makes the best story.

Ahab and Jehu are mentioned in non-biblical contemporaneous sources. Like anything biblical, the interpretations have been questioned.

The Queen of Judah – Part 1

It is a long time since I have posted a story here.  This is my retelling of a biblical story.  Reference and a little background information follow the story.

This is part one.  I will post part two in a few weeks. Enjoy!

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 “He is dead.  They are dead.’ The messenger cautiously repeated his key points.  He tried to keep his distance from the terrifying woman he was reporting to, while at the same time handing her a clay tablet from the new King confirming his words.

Athaliah peered at him, a mousey little man, with her eyes wide and body frozen as the letter was placed on her open palm.  She had no intention of striking the messenger, although she was pleased to see that he feared it.  Instead, her mind was rapidly considering the implications of this news.  Her son, King Ahazial of Judah, was dead; her husband’s last son, the only survivor of an attack by raiders.  Her brother was dead; not that the death of her brother, Joram, King of Israel, overly concerned her.  He had been a weak, killed by his own general.  All this and it was only a year since her husband, King Jehoram, had died of a foul disease. 

“So much death,” she thought to herself, “that perhaps a little more would make no difference.”

It was a miracle that the any of the Royal family remained to rule or be regent.  The raid on the palace had taken away most of the young men.  Ahazial and his young family were fortunate to have been enough to be elsewhere at the time.  Her husband had been involved in a war that ultimately led to his destruction.  However, the Levitical priests claimed that the family would always have someone on the throne of Judah and, while Athaliah generally disbelieved anything they said, she was willing to make an exception in this case.

Unfreezing, Athaliah nodded a dismissal at the messenger who backed reverently out of the now crowded throne room.  Everyone in the palace had come to hear him. She smiled at the rapid footsteps echoing along the stone corridor as the man hurried away from any possible misdirected vengeance.  The man was right to run, she thought.  As the sound faded, she turned to one of her husband’s many advisors.  Advisors who failed to advise Ahazial not to visit Joram at this time at a time of war and instability, Athaliah noted, disregarding the fact that she had encouraged the visit.

 “You are now regent,” The Advisor stated. “until one of the boys is old enough to rule.  The oldest perhaps?  He is a strong and bright lad.”

“Regent?” Athaliah considered her oldest grandson, a lusty and obnoxious boy of six.  He would want power in only a very few years but Athaliah was too much her mother’s daughter to want to cede power.  She could have another thirty or forty years in which to wield it.

Athaliah pondered her mother, Jezebel, a woman who ruled through her weak and bendable husband, Athaliah’s father Ahab.  Athaliah had ruled for the past year through a son.  Well, she could go one better now, perhaps.

“Yes, Regent.” The advisor affirmed.  All too aware of her thirst for power, he thought she would be pleased.

 “Perhaps…  I will ponder that.  Thank you for the suggestion.” She peered at him through narrowed eyes.

The advisor suppressed a shudder at the words.  He doubted that she would select another to be regent for a grandson in her place, so he wondered exactly what she had to ponder.

Athaliah rose and paced about the room, courtiers moving rapidly from her path, as she considered her family.  More were now dead than alive.  Again, she thought: what would a little more death matter and, anyway, who would be around to care.  At that moment, she caught her daughter’s eyes.  Jehosheba had always been a sensitive and good child; a misfit in this family.  If she did not remember giving birth to her, Athaliah would have accused the girl of being a changeling.  Adding insult to injury, rather than following the family’s worship of Baal, Jehosheba had chosen to follow the old religion and then married the high priest, Jehoiada, an enemy.  Athaliah was not impressed by her last surviving child or the tears in the woman’s eyes, a sign of weakness.

*             *             *

Along with everyone else who could contrive entry to the palace, Jehosheba had come to hear the news.  One of the watchmen at the Temple, spotting the messenger riding fast up to the city gate from the Samarian highway, had alerted her husband.  Jehoiada asked her to go to the palace, knowing he would be refused entry.  Jehosheba was only too aware of her mother’s hatred but the guards were not about to turn a princess away from the palace door, especially one who brought a large basket of bread and oil as a bribe.

Watching her cold hearted mother, Jehosheba was also rapidly reviewing her remaining family.  Her nephews were all too young show any signs of future kingship. None were yet like her father, uncle or brother, possessing a brave recklessness, certainty in their own rightness and infallible belief in their own mortality in the face of much evidence to the contrary.  Not men to be admired, she thought, hoping that her nephews would not turn out like that.  They would be better off dead.  Would her mother agree with her? She wondered.  Seeing her mother’s hard faraway eyes, she could not imagine her mother being content as Regent.  What would the evil woman do?  With sudden clarity, Jehosheba knew.

She slowly and quietly slipped through the crowd. People were coming and going, milling around as the news spread.  Knowing that her mother would have to act decisively, as the country could not be left without a King, or at least a Regent, Jehosheba decided to be decisive too and act on her fear.  If she was wrong, no harm would be done.

After pausing to breathe a sigh of relief at escaping the throne room unnoticed, Jehosheba hurried towards the nursery.  She pulled her plain scarf over her head to increase her anonymity.  Almost unconsciously, Jehosheba brushed her fingers along the raised stone of the friezes that lined the walls of the corridor.  Although many of them were more than a hundred years old, the colours were still as bright as if they had just been paints; lots of red and blue.  The friezes told the stories of her ancestors, mostly great victories won by David and the astounding achievements of Solomon.  Perhaps one of her nephews could emulate them rather than her more recent ancestors.

Within minutes, Jehosheba reached the nursery.  It was quiet; too quiet for a space occupied by five small boys.  The nursery was a large room with several alcoves that served as sleeping quarters for the boys and their closest servants.  Jehosheba found the room almost empty.  A squawk from the furthest alcove drew her attention.  A nursemaid was just lifting the infant Joash from his sleeping basket.

“Where are the boys?” asked Jehosheba the young woman.

“Out in the courtyard.” The nursemaid said as she soothed the newly awake babe.  “One of the guards rescued an orphaned lion cub.”

“Ahh.” Jehosheba frowned.  There was no way she could discretely approach and extract the boys from the guards and a lion cub.  They would object vociferously, as would their tutors, all men young enough to be enthralled by a wild animal.  Fearing that she would run out of time, she decided to make the best of the situation.

“Come with me, bring Joash.” Jehosheba commanded with her best princess voice. “Come along now, no dawdling and keep him quiet.”

“What’s happened?” The nursemaid asked, having missed the drama unfolding elsewhere in the palace.

“Later.  There will be time for that later, I hope.  But for now, we must hurry. Come, follow me.”

The nursemaid shifted a squirming Joash to her hip, grabbed his favourite toy and allowed Jehosheba to lead her from the nursery.  She patted the baby’s back to comfort him and herself.

Pausing at the door, Jehosheba turned and rearranged the nursemaids shawl to cover her head and the small child.  As if sensing something was not right, the boy snuggled closely to his beloved nurse.

*             *             *

Athaliah, although keeping her expression blank, was observing everything going on in the throne room.  She noticed her daughter slide out of the room but dismissed the action as unimportant.  She assumed that Jehosheba wold take the news to the Temple where she lived with her husband.  Athaliah had no time for a priest of the old religion and did not see him or his wife as a threat.  He could be squashed like a gnat, when she was ready.  Athaliah followed her mother’s religion, the religion of a strong woman who was the wife and mother of kings.  Between them, they had converted much of this country and neighbouring Israel to their way of thinking, eliminating opposition.

Watching the officials form groups, whisper conversations, split and form new groups, Athaliah came to a decision.  She did not want to be Regent, the servant of a mere child. Now free of the constraint of Kingly fathers, husbands, brothers and sons, she did not want to again be subject of a man.  She had been the power behind the thrones of her husband and son but now she wanted to be the throne.  She smiled and stretched catlike at the thought.  The only barrier was her five distressingly healthy grandsons.

“Where are my grandsons?  They must be told of their father’s death.” Athaliah demanded and then added noncommittedly after a pause.  “And there is the question of the succession to be answered.”

“I saw them in the courtyard with some soldiers.” One man bravely drew attention to himself.

“Someone said there was a lion cub.” said another brave or foolish young man.

“Well, bring them to my private rooms, they will be upset.” She stood up, ready to leave the room. Randomly pointing at an official in the room, she added. “Oh, and bring some food.  They will be hungry and thirsty after all of that activity.  Definitely, they will need something special to drink.  I have just the thing.”  She raised a thoughtful eyebrow.

Athaliah processed regally from the throne room to her quarters.  A number of people followed.  Guessing which way the wind was blowing, they were eager to serve her in any way possible.  Some others discretely dropped off the back of the back of the crowd as they considered the news that Jehu, reportedly a decent and welcoming man, was now King of Israel following the coup that killed Jehoram and Ahazial.

*             *             *

Safely reaching her old suite, which had not been re-occupied after her marriage, with less people living in the palace, Jehosheba drew the nursemaid and child into one of the inner chambers.

“There may not be much time.” Jehosheba stated, considering how to break the bad news.  “So listen carefully.”

The nursemaid nodded, wide eyed with fear.

“King Ahazial has been killed, along with King Jehoram, in a coup in Israel.  None of the boys is old enough to take the throne outright, which means the chosen one would need a Regent.  My mother, Athaliah, I don’t think she will be content to be Regent.  She bullied Ahazial endlessly.  No wonder he took off at the first opportunity.  However, I digress.  I fear for the boys lives. They are too young and innocent.  My mother is not a kind woman and I fear she wants the throne enough to do anything to get it.  Do you understand?”  Jehosheba explained.

The nursemaid nodded again, not wanting to utter words that might be considered treason.

“You will be safe enough here for now but I need to get you to the Temple, Jehoiada and the other priests will look after baby Joash.”

Joash chose that moment to start crying.

“He’s hungry.” said the Nurse, as she loosened her top.  She had been employed as a wet nurse and to have care of the child until he was weened in another year or so.

“Wait here!  I will see if I can find out what is going on.  It could be that I am wrong.” 

Jehosheba, having watched the babe feed, was hoping that his brothers might have returned to the nursery.  If they could escape her mother’s notice for just a little while, she might have time to rescue them.

Jehosheba walked through the palace. The nursery was silent.  Deciding to risk the courtyard, she saw from a secluded colonnade that the guards were back on duty and the cub, tied to post, was sleeping by a pail of water.  There was no sign of the boys.  Her last stop was a pause at the door of the now empty throne room.  Deciding it was too risky and also pointless to go to her mother’s rooms, Jehosheba turned back towards her quarters and the hidden nursemaid.

*             *             *

“Drink up, come on boys, drink Grandmama’s special drink.  It is blessed by Baal.” Athaliah urged her grandsons.

The few officials who had reached this inner sanctum grimaced as they wondered what was in the drink.  All were only too aware that Baal allowed child sacrifice.  All were too afraid of the queen and each other to act.  Old alliances could no longer be relied on; it was each man for himself.  Athaliah was the only woman in the room.

“It tastes funny.” One of the boys complained.

“Of course it does dear.  It is special.  Come on, drink up.  Be good boys.” She again encouraged them.

All of them reluctantly drank up.  Athaliah stared to smile and then appeared to count.

“Wait, shouldn’t there be five of them?”

There was a long silence, disrupted when one of the boys started to cough.  It sounded like he was chocking.  Athaliah ignored the child, brushing aside a small hand that grabbed her skirt in a plea for help.  She stepped away.

“Well? Isn’t there a baby?  He was born just after Ahazial took the throne.  There isn’t one that age here.  Where is he?”

The officials looked at each other, panicked.

“Are you sure?” One particularly foolish man asked.

“Of course I am sure.” she exclaimed, ignoring the now four gasping children. “I wouldn’t imagine the birth of a grandson.”

“We will have the guards search the palace immediately for him.” A smarter man offered.  He hurried from the room.

“Bring every babe and toddler in the palace to the throne room for inspection; I won’t have some serving woman lying and saying that he is hers, when he is not.  No, we must be certain; very certain!”

Abandoning the four gasping children, Athaliah led the remaining officials back to the Throne room.

*             *             *

Jehosheba found the nursemaid still in the inner room with a milk drunk Joash in her arms. 

 

“I couldn’t find the others.” she said.

Looking around the room, her eyes caught the basket she had brought to the palace.  It was a big basket.  She looked back at the child.  Picking up the basket, Jehosheba held it up to the nursemaids arms.

“He will fit, I think.  Will he sleep for a while now?” She asked.

The nursemaid nodded nervously, staring wide eyed at the basket.  “I hope so.  The rocking should help.”

“Good.  We will put him in this and we can carry him out of the palace.  There is a risk of being caught if he cries but if you don’t come with me, you will be at risk for not having him.  I am sorry you are in this position.  Will you come with me?”

Nodding again, the nursemaid carefully stood up and placed the blanket wrapped sleeping boy in the basket with his favourite toy.  The lid fitted snuggly over the small child.

Jehosheba took a deep breath and picked up the now heavy basket.

“I’ll take it.” said the nurse.

“No, I had best carry it.  The guards saw me bring it in.”  Jehosheba smiled at the nursemaid. “Courage, we can do this.  Pull your scarf over your face.”

The two woman walked steadily along a corridor to a side door into the palace ground, side by side.  Jehosheba was thankful that her quarters were not far from the entrance.  As they crossed the courtyard to the palace gates, they saw guards rushing around.  One man stopped and peered at them.  He looked them up and down.  The two woman paused, waiting for the man to react. The guard then shook his head and moved on.  Jehosheba felt the nursemaid shudder.

“Courage.” She whispered.

Approaching the gate, Jehosheba saw that there were now four men on guard instead of two.  The two she had earlier plied with bread and oil were still there.  She closed her eyes and breathed her thanks.  She acknowledged the two men.  All four men looked carefully at her and the maid.

“Where are you going?” One man asked.

“To the Temple, to tell my husband the news.  He will be eager to hear it.” Jehoseba replied, lowering her head in a posture of wifely modesty.

“You didn’t have a maid with you when you came here.” Another man observed.

“No, but with the news of the King’s death, there may be ruffians looking to take advantage, and I am, was, the King’s sister, so I asked this servant to accompany me.”

“If you fear violence, you will need more than a maid’s protection in these streets.  I will escort you.”

Jehosheba risked a glance at the nursemaid and prayed that the boy would stay asleep.

“Thank you for your kind offer.  I am happy to accept.” she lied.

The two women passed through the gate and along the street to the Temple followed by the guard.  Jehosheba let the basket swing gently as she walked, hoping it would keep Joash quiet for long enough.

*             *             *

Athaliah looked at the five babies that had been presented to her and ignored the crying women standing in the corner of the throne room surrounded by guards.

“Did you check the entire palace?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The soldiers affirmed.

“Good. And are these all baby boys you could find?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“My daughter!” a women sobbed.

“Did you check that they were boys?”  Athaliah rolled her eyes at them. “Well?  Go on them check.”

Two guards ineptly ripped away some clothing from each child.  Athaliah glanced down.

“Let the two girls go.  Kill the boys.” She commanded.

*             *             *

Jehosheba felt the weight of the basket growing on her arm as she climbed the hill to the temple.  She struggled to keep her body straight as she tried to make it appear like she was carrying an empty basket.

Her husband, Jehoiada, was waiting at the Temple gates, along with a crowd of other priests.  Breathing a sigh of relief, Jehosheba turned to dismiss the guard.  Instead of turning back to the palace, he stood and waited.  Fear gave Jehosheba a burst of energy that propelled her up the remainder of the hill.  She walked steadily through the gates and carried on to the inner most part of the temple that women were allowed to enter, well out of site of the palace guard, not pausing to answer the many questions being thrown at her.

Jehosheba finally stopped and put the basket down.  A squark from the basket drew the nursemaid’s attention.  The woman pulled the baby from the basket.

“What?” asked Jehoiada, not sure where to start.

“My brother is dead.  I fear my mother will not be happy as regent.  I rescued young Joash.  One day he must be King, but until then, my mother will be the Queen of Judah.”

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The story of Athaliah and Jehosheba is told in 2 Kings 8:26 to 11:16 & 2 Chronicles 22:10 to 23-15.

Athaliah became queen c. 841 BC.

There appears to be some debate about the exact details of the how the various people mentioned were related, so I have gone with what I think makes the best story.

Ahab and Jehu are mentioned in non-biblical contemporaneous sources. Like anything biblical, the interpretations have been questioned.