Gods And Kings by Lynn Austin Read Free Book Online Page B

then a faint smile flickered briefly across his face.
    “Yes, Rabbi, please support me in this. If I make a few concessions to Ahaz in order to gain his confidence, I can begin to teach him Yahweh’s Law, the way you once taught King Uzziah.”
    Zechariah’s head jerked backward at the mention of Uzziah as if Uriah had slapped him. Zechariah stared at him with watery eyes, then stood and shuffled to the shelf to retrieve the wineskin. “You’re going to teach Ahaz? Make him stop his idolatry?” he asked with his back turned.
    Uriah winced. “It may take some time, Rabbi, but that’s what I hope to accomplish … eventually.”
    Zechariah raised the wineskin to his lips and swallowed, then wiped his mouth with his fist. Uriah waited.
    “You’ve always had more ambition than any of the others,” Zechariah said at last. “I won’t oppose you if you decide to accept the position.” His voice carried no enthusiasm.
    “Thank you, Rabbi.” Uriah stood and inched toward the door, eager to leave. “There are several announcements from the king that I need to discuss with the chief priests and Levites, so I’m calling for a meeting at noon today. If you’ll contact the chief Levites, I’ll notify the chief priests.”
    Zechariah nodded but didn’t face him.
    “Thank you, Rabbi. Shalom.” Uriah hurried from the room, closing the door quickly. His mentor’s pathetic state had unnerved him, and he struggled to regain his composure as he wandered down the corridor. When he finally emerged into the sunlight again he stopped, closing his eyes to summon the image of himself that he had so carefully practiced, the one he had successfully portrayed before the king—the erect posture, the controlled gestures, the intimidating stare of a man of authority. Then he willed his body to conform to that image. Once he felt outwardly in control, Uriah battled to untangle his conflicting thoughts and feelings.
    He couldn’t imagine how a man as great as Zechariah had ended up in such a state. But now that Uriah had a chance to be as influential in the nation as Zechariah had once been, he was determined not to let the opportunity pass, even if it meant temporarily violating the Torah. A nagging voice tried to remind him of the price he would pay for disobeying the Law, but Uriah chose to ignore the voice.
    Yahweh’s Temple would regain the power and glory it once enjoyed in the days of King Solomon. Uriah would not let this institution crumble into obscurity. He would not.

3
    A BIJAH WAITED IN K ING Ahaz’s private chambers for a long time, hating herself for what she was doing. She had never been in his rooms before—an opulent sitting room where he received visitors and a private bedchamber beyond—and she felt no better than a prostitute, giving herself in return for favors. But the payment was for Hezekiah’s sake, not her own. If she kept thinking of Hezekiah, she could do this.
    Abijah quickly brushed away a tear. She couldn’t think of him without remembering Eliab, but she couldn’t descend into grief tonight. She had to forget that this man she would pretend to love had killed him. She sat down on the sofa as the hours passed, and dozed.
    At last the door opened and King Ahaz entered. He didn’t seem to see Abijah at first, and she glimpsed, in his expression, all his unguarded feelings. He was afraid, unsure of himself. Then Ahaz noticed her and his expression changed to one of surprise—and relief. He seemed glad not to be alone and pleased that she had come to him.
    Abijah went to him quickly, not allowing herself time to think. She stroked her hands down his arms. “What’s wrong? You look so unhappy, my lord. Is there something I can do for you?” He pulled her to himself, gripping her as if to keep from falling.
    “My brother Maaseiah is dead.”
    “Oh no. I’m so sorry.” It was a lie. Abijah felt no grief for Maaseiah. She had begged him not to take her sons away, but he had turned his back on