Queenmaker by India Edghill Read Free Book Online

King Saul more than they love me. There are always men willing to do evil. Why? Why, they may think good will come of it, or they may be paid in one coin or another. Now hush, Michal—weeping and wailing will not help us.”
    He set me aside and went to the window. I could see him outlined against the dark sky beyond; it was no longer deep night. We had little time left.
    “Can you climb down?” It was a foolish question, and I knew it. This was a new tower, built onto the old house only since my father had become king; the stones were smooth-fitted still.
    David laughed. “No, Michal, I can not—nor can I fight barehanded past men well-armed, and I will not try. But your father is generous—he has provided the means to my hand. Come, wife, and help me with our bed-linen—and let us trust it is indeed the best!”
    I saw then what he would do, and flung myself out of the bed to pull at the linens and blankets. All was new for my marriage-chest, and all of the finest; fit to support a man, if the knots were tight.
    “Oh, yes—oh, David, you are so clever! Where shall we go, and what shall we do? Will your parents take us in, or—”
    “Be silent, my heart, for this is not a time for talk. We must hurry if the rope is to be ready in time.”
    I knew he was right, and so I made haste to do as he told me. There would be time enough to talk once we were away and safe.
    It was not so easy as all that to make a rope of bedclothes. Knots that seemed tight and fast fell to nothing when I pulled on them; blankets were too thick to tie at all. But at last we had a length that would hold, at least when we pulled at both ends as hard as we could. So David said it was ready.
    “I will go first—I am lighter.” The danger thrilled my blood as had David’s caresses; it was a night of strange excitements and I could not be calm, or think as I ought. I never once dreamed that I would not go with him, away out the window and down the road to meet whatever new joys life sent us. I was young, and so could not believe life would not go all as I would have it; that anything would truly harm me or those I held dear.
    “No, Michal. You will stay here, where I can find you, where you will be safe.”
    “But I wish to go with you!” I could not believe he meant it.
    David sighed and took me in his arms and held me close. “Look you, my dear sister, my dear wife—a man may take a road
too hard for a woman, and I will not risk you so. You are Saul’s daughter, whom he dearly loves—you must stay, and speak kindly of me to your father while I am gone.”
    “But David—” Surely he could not mean to leave me behind! Not on our wedding night—not when I would bear any hardship gladly, only to be with him!
    “No, I will hear no more disobedience from you—and you have not thought, Michal. I must leave here quickly and quietly—if you go too, who will bring up the rope again? And if it stays—”
    If it stayed, linen pale against the tower stones, the city watchmen would see it and raise the alarm. David was right; someone must bring up the rope again, to give him time.
    I swore I would do it. “I will always do whatever you ask—I I love you beyond death!”
    We kissed, and held each other close, and said many foolish things—at least, I did. David’s words were never foolish, but worked always to an end.
    Then he was gone, down the rope we had made together from the linens of our marriage-bed, and I was left alone in the tower room. As he had told me, I drew the rope up again, and then sat and carefully undid our careful knots, and thought of all David had said that night.
    It was hard to believe, now that he was gone, just as it was hard to believe that I was now a woman, and so must be wiser than I had been as a child. But this was a night of strangeness, one no more so than the other. Sitting there alone in the dark, I half-thought I might have dreamed it all.
    But I had not—and for all my thinking, I had not thought of