The palace was quiet as Jehosheba and Abital made their way through the labyrinth of passages.  Jehosheba had decided to leave the palace through the front entrance because it would be busier and thus they would be less conspicuous.  They were nearing the entrance when they met an aged servant woman who looked at them with fear as they approached – a fear that changed to relief as she recognised them.

“Oh, princess,” she breathed, “if you’re going to the main door, don’t do it!  Her soldiers are there and there’s blood running down the steps from all the people they’ve killed.  Don’t go there!”

“But why are they doing that?”

“I don’t know, miss… sorry, ‘princess’.  I’m so upset though: those poor little children.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you know?  All of the king’s sons are dead, princess!”  She broke off and sobbed quietly.

Abital drew in a sharp breath and put her hand to her mouth.  She whispered to Jehosheba, “Princess, you were right!”

After a few moments, the old woman controlled herself and said, “Every last one of them, I’m told.  Slaughtered in the nursery by Her men – but she gave the order.  Her own grandchildren!”

By this time, Jehosheba was in a hurry to leave.  She was still carrying Joash under the blankets and was worried that he might wake at any time.  She quickly made up her mind to leave through a side door, the one that led to the royal gate of the temple.  Since she and Jehoiada lived in the temple, this was her ordinary way of leaving the palace, and she hoped that the guards would let her through without questions.

They quickly thanked the servant for her advice and made their way towards the side entrance.  As Jehosheba had expected, the ordinary guards – the ones she knew well – were not alone at the door.  They were attended by some of Athaliah’s special guard: men with harsh, cruel faces who were well known in the palace.  Rumour suggested that King Ahaziah had had to warn his mother Athaliah to keep them under control more than once during his reign – but now he was dead, and she was making a determined grab for power, with them to help her.

The ordinary guards stepped forward quickly to greet Jehosheba, obviously doing their best to show that she was a trustworthy visitor who should pass without question.  Equally obviously, however, Athaliah’s men were looking for trouble.

They stepped forward to block the doorway and one asked, “Why are you taking those blankets from the palace?  Who are you?”

“I am Jehosheba, the sister of King Ahaziah,” she said, answering the second question, but not the first.

“King Ahaziah?” responded the guard with a cynical smile.  “Ex-king, you mean.  He’s dead, you know, and now we have a queen.  We’ll see some big changes around here with Her Majesty in charge.”

“I am going into the temple of Yahweh,” Jehosheba continued, ignoring this threatening statement.  “I live there.”

“But why the blankets?  Whose are they?”

“They are my blankets, and none of your business,” said Jehosheba, regally.  “You do your job, and I will do mine.”  She drew herself up to her full height and spoke abruptly – almost imperiously – “I have answered your questions.  Now, let us pass.”

The guards looked at her doubtfully for a moment, but then stepped dutifully back and waved the two women past into the night outside.  Leaving the palace, they climbed the roofed stairway toward the temple gates, struggling a little with their burdens, but also with their emotions.  What worried Jehosheba most was that prince Joash was beginning to stir under the blankets.  Should he begin to cry, he was too young for her to attempt to explain the need for silence, so she hurried upward with a whispered prayer on her lips.  The flames of the torches that flanked the stairs danced in the evening breeze, its rustling helping to hide the faint noises Joash was making.

There were still other guards to pass, but these were temple guards who were quick to let the wife of the high priest through, along with the servant woman who carried her child.  The women hurried together to the side rooms that clung tightly to three of the four sides of the main temple building and quickly made their way to those in which the High Priest and his family lived.

Jehoiada was there, pacing back and forth in the main room.  He looked relieved as they entered and hurried towards them with a speed that belied his great age.  Jehoiada had already passed his 99th birthday, but his sprightly step, unwrinkled face and thick dark hair made him look less than half that age.

He smiled at Jehosheba and said, “I’m so glad to see you, my dear.  I was almost ready to go to the palace to look for you.”

Jehosheba waved Abital into the room, carrying Zechariah, and then entered herself, awkwardly closing and locking the door behind her.  she put her burden down on a bench and lifted off the blankets to reveal Joash, who was glad to be uncovered and reached up his pudgy little hands towards her.

Jehoiada looked at Joash with surprise, but obeyed her urging to remain quiet and questioned Jehosheba with his eyes alone as she lifted up the baby and sat him on her hip.

“Prince Joash is the only one of the princes left alive,” she said in a low, urgent voice.  “Athaliah murdered them all, and she would have killed him too if we hadn’t whisked him away before she had a chance.  We need to hide him!  We must keep him safe!”

She looked at Jehoiada as if expecting a response, and the High Priest asked quietly, “Can I speak now?”

“Oh, yes, my lord,” she said with a brief smile and a partial curtsy, “I wasn’t trying to order you around, I just didn’t want you to get a surprise and make too much noise when you first saw Joash.”

“Firstly, does Athaliah know that you took Joash away?”

“I don’t believe so.  I don’t think anyone knows except for Abital his nurse, here, and me.  Oh, and Yahweh, who helped us to escape.”

“Well, that’s good.  You have done well, my dear.  You two may indeed have saved the royal line of David today, but that is a matter to review later.  Secondly, what plans do you have now?  What shall we do with Joash?”

“I don’t know yet,” she confessed, “but we must do our best to look after him and keep him alive.  At least we have our own son Zechariah, so people won’t be surprised if they hear noises from a young baby here.”

“Ah, the practicalities are vital, my dear!  You are right.  We must look after Joash and bring him up with Zechariah, but first we need to make sure that he is alive tomorrow and next week.   If That Wicked Woman has killed everyone else in the royal family, she must plan to rule herself.  Which means that we can expect a purge.  Searches for enemies.  Even in the temple we won’t be safe.”

“Yes, my dear,” said Jehosheba, who was cuddling Joash tightly and patting his back.  “But I don’t think that they will come tonight.  We can put Joash in to sleep with.  And what do we do about feeding him?”

“He likes his solids, princess,” said Abital, helpfully, “but his mother was still feeding him too, you know.”

“Oh, yes, his mother.”  She paused and looked sad.  “Poor Zibiah.”[1]

“She wasn’t in the nursery this afternoon, poor lass – she was away mourning the death of her husband, King Ahaziah.”

“And now I suppose she will be mourning the death of Joash as well.”

“Yes, she will, princess.  That Woman will make sure that she hears the news.  Isn’t that horrible?  Her husband and her son, both in one day.”

“What do you think, Jehoiada?” asked Jehosheba. “Could we tell her secretly that Joash is not dead?  In fact, maybe if she went back to her father’s house, we could send Joash there.”[2]

“No, I’m afraid not,” said Jehoiada apologetically.  “Her mourning has to be genuine or else That Wicked Woman will get suspicious.  She doesn’t seem to feel grief herself, but she knows to expect it in others.  For the time being at least, we can’t tell her.”

Jehosheba sighed and replied, “You’re right as usual.  Maybe Athaliah’s grab for power will fail.”

“That’s not likely,” said Jehoiada.  “I suspect that she’s been getting ready for this ever since she missed the chance when her husband Jehoram died.  Her guard is well prepared, well trained and utterly ruthless.”

“What a terrible woman,” said Jehosheba.  “My brother Ahaziah wasn’t a good man, or a good king, but I just can’t imagine how any grandmother could murder all of her grandsons.  I’m glad that she isn’t my mother!”[3]

“So am I, my dear.  Having King Jehoram as your father is bad enough, I’m afraid.  But never mind, you’re nothing like him.  You are more like your ancestors: Solomon for wisdom, and Ruth for faithfulness!”

“Oh, don’t talk nonsense,” said Jehosheba in confusion.  “Ah… sir,” she added, remembering Abital, who was looking a little shocked at this familiarity with God’s High Priest.  “Did you ever meet Solomon?” she asked, changing the subject a little.

Jehoiada smiled. “No,” he admitted.  “I was only 11 or maybe 12 when he died, but I did see him several times from a distance.  He often visited the temple to worship God, but he spent a lot of time worshipping other gods with his pagan wives as well.  His father David would have been devastated.”

“And look where it all led,” said Jehosheba.  “A divided kingdom, and a woman who wants to be queen and murders anyone who might stand in her way.”

“At least you’ve saved a boy from the royal line today.  In a few years, he can be king.”

“As long as we can keep him safe.”

“True, but I think that God is likely to help us protect the royal line of his servant, King David.  Now to avoid immediate suspicion, don’t you think it would be best if Abital left now?”

“I don’t think anyone is likely to ask questions about her, but perhaps it might be safer if she went somewhere else – for tonight at least.  Would she be safe to return to the palace?”

“With Athaliah around, is anyone safe?” said Jehoiada, worriedly.  “Maybe she should stay for the night in one of the storage rooms here.  There are no children left in the palace for her to look after, so she won’t be needed there, and she probably won’t be missed.”

“What do you think, Abital?” asked Jehosheba.

“I’m too scared to go back to the palace,” she answered, her eyes wide with worry.  “I don’t trust those guards of hers.”

After a day of violent upheaval, the city was restless in the night, rumours and confusion spreading rapidly in the darkness.  Athaliah used the time to strengthen her position, and many men who might have opposed her disappeared in the night-time hours.  The time she had spent making plans and selecting her bloodthirsty guards was paying off.

Abital spent that night in a temple storeroom, glad to have a locked door between her and the dangers of that night.  Prince Joash slept peacefully with his new family, snuggled up next to his cousin Zechariah.
Complete disaster had been avoided for the present, but could the secret be kept?

 

 

 

Notes

[1] 2 Kings 12:1
[2] Zibiah came from Beersheba in the south of Judah (2 Kings 12:1).
[3] We don’t know who Jehosheba’s mother was, we are just told that she was the daughter of King Jehoram and King Ahaziah’s sister (2 Kings 11:2).  Most kings of Judah seem to have had more than one wife.