"Esther M. Friesner - Giants in the Earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

- Chapter 11

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file:///K|/eMule/Incoming/Esther%20M.%20Friesner%20-%20Giants%20in%20the%20Earth.htm (1 of 10)26-1-2007 22:53:34
 - Chapter 11




Giants in the Earth
Esther M. Friesner

"Have you ever had one of those days where you just can't get a psalm started?" King David sat back on
the royal throne of all Israel and drummed his fingers on the gently curving cedar armrests. "The
opening line's the hardest part. I've got everything else down pat: rhyme scheme, subject matter, nifty
metaphors that do not involve sheep, for a change. Sheep! Don't get me started. You grow up as a simple
shepherd boyтАФwhat the hell else is there to do in this country?тАФand right away you can't write a psalm
without everyone picking it apart, looking for hidden references to sheep, sheep, sheep, 'til the cows
come home. To say nothing of those so-called 'jokes' the men used to tell about me back in my army
days. Soldiers, feh! As if they neverтАФ"
"Your Majesty was saying something about an opening line?" Tirzah asked amiably. As concubine du
jour she had certain assigned tasks, not the least of which was keeping King David's conversation on
track. When a man spends the better part of his youth on the lam from a crazy king like Saul and the rest
of his salad days amassing a comfortably haimish empire, his body may cease wandering but his mind
often does not.
"Oh, right, right, a catchy first line, yes, hmm . . ." The ring-encrusted royal fingers, each adorned with a
precious stone the size of the rock that slew Goliath, went back to drumming on the armrest. "Listen, my
subjects, and you shall hear . . . When that Goliath with his spears and arrows/The men of Israel had
pierc├йd to the marrow . . . Whose sling this is, I think I know . . . There once was a giant from Gath . . ."
"Perhaps Your Majesty should work on a different psalm?" Tirzah suggested, popping a grape into her
mouth. "I've found that when I reach a point where there doesn't seem to be any solution to the problem
at hand, it helps to switch projects entirely."
The king gave her a smarmy smile. "You're a concubine, my dear," he said. "What problems do you face
that can't be solved by a new necklace or an extra dollop of myrrh?"
Tirzah opened her mouth to answer, then thought better of it and stopped her gob with a handful of
dates. It didn't do for a woman to backtalk the king. She understood that, as a concubine, she had only
two career paths: Cling to the king's good side like moss to a stone or spend your days locked up among
the women.
Not that there was anything wrong with being locked up among the women, but as JHVH was her
witness, it was boring. The ladies of the royal household seemed able to talk about nothing save
clothing, cosmetics, candy, kids, and the king's elusive favor. Those who'd managed to get a colt off the
royal stud formed an exclusive clique whose favorite pastimes were sneering at their less fertile
colleagues and zealous jockeying/backstabbing in order to get their child in line for the throne.
As much as Tirzah despised the snotty Womb Supremacists, she knew that her only hope for
advancement lay thataway, and the more she hung out with David, the better her odds of hitting the