upward and forward, the jerk of his head accented by his stiff and trim goatee. “I think you misunderstood me, Zebul. The queen does not ask you to share. I state a fact you will be wise not to question.”
“The queen? ”
Obadiah allowed a moment’s silence to accent his answer. “Our King Ahab has given Jezebel full control over matters of religion. What I have just stated to you is her directive.”
“I shall not sit at a table equal with the high priest of Melkart.”
Obadiah rose angrily to his feet. His words were staccato. “Your intrigues and games bore me, Zebul. I am not an amateur, and I have known you for a long time. Do not pretend with me. I was sick of your whines when you were demoted to a less honorable table, and I am certain that your smiles will be broad at dinner tonight.”
Zebul’s voice was firm and surprisingly calm. “You may report my decision to Queen Jezebel. I will not. . .”
“Your cheap play for power is foolish, Zebul. You at least have been shrewd in your plays for power before. Let me assure you that you will not be assigned a higher place than the high priest of Melkart.”
“Then I shall remain at a lower place.”
The two men stared at each other. Obadiah’s manner was, to Zebul, natural. His hardlined face was determined, his look of distrust and disgust apparent. His confidence bordered on arrogance. Zebul could not see the twinge of uncertainty, however, inside the governor, for the fat priest’s manner was perceptibly changed. Such a shift was difficult for the logically-minded Obadiah to contend with. Zebul’s determined answer appeared not to be playful or conniving, but sincere, his manner more resolute.
Zebul broke the silence. “Obadiah, you have every reason not to believe my sincerity in what I want to tell you.”
Obadiah reacted with a cold stare. Zebul decided to approach the subject another way.
“I have been to see Ahijah.” He detected a slight waver in the governor’s attitude. “I do not intend to reveal to you all of the events and personal distress I have gone through to reach my present state of mind, Obadiah, but my interests now are to eliminate the Baal religion from our courts and our land.”
Coldness returned to Obadiah’s stare. “It is as I suspected. I only regret that Yahweh does not have a high priest in office who would take your course of action for the right reasons.” Disgustedly, he pulled his cloak around his shoulders and started toward the door.
The fat priest moved to block his exit. “Obadiah!” The governor stopped. With all of the dignity of his office evident in his upraised chin and erect posture, he stared again at Zebul with exaggerated patience, as though the priest were an exasperating child on whom discipline would be wasted. “Obadiah.” Zebul spoke more evenly. “I do not expect to win.”
Obadiah’s shoulders relaxed just a bit, and a slight furrow in his brow softened his response. “I can assure you that what you have just stated in undoubtedly correct.” He turned from the door. “Such being the case, I don’t suppose you would tell me who has been your adversary for so long just what you hope to accomplish by your act.”
“Yes, I will tell you. I don’t want to pretend that the religions of Yahweh and Melkart can live side by side. They cannot. Their values are almost precise opposites. I am an observer of the religious scene by profession, Obadiah. If Yahweh’s people accommodate themselves to Melkart, Melkart will win. Battle lines must become apparent, so that people will be forced to choose between the two religions.”
Obadiah seated himself slowly. There was a touch of warmth in his eyes, and the lines in his face were softer. “Zebul, I only wish that I could relax and be confident of your purpose.”
“Such confidence requires time. This particular decision, I am afraid, does not allow for that time. You may do as you wish or think about me as you will, but my
“The queen? ”
Obadiah allowed a moment’s silence to accent his answer. “Our King Ahab has given Jezebel full control over matters of religion. What I have just stated to you is her directive.”
“I shall not sit at a table equal with the high priest of Melkart.”
Obadiah rose angrily to his feet. His words were staccato. “Your intrigues and games bore me, Zebul. I am not an amateur, and I have known you for a long time. Do not pretend with me. I was sick of your whines when you were demoted to a less honorable table, and I am certain that your smiles will be broad at dinner tonight.”
Zebul’s voice was firm and surprisingly calm. “You may report my decision to Queen Jezebel. I will not. . .”
“Your cheap play for power is foolish, Zebul. You at least have been shrewd in your plays for power before. Let me assure you that you will not be assigned a higher place than the high priest of Melkart.”
“Then I shall remain at a lower place.”
The two men stared at each other. Obadiah’s manner was, to Zebul, natural. His hardlined face was determined, his look of distrust and disgust apparent. His confidence bordered on arrogance. Zebul could not see the twinge of uncertainty, however, inside the governor, for the fat priest’s manner was perceptibly changed. Such a shift was difficult for the logically-minded Obadiah to contend with. Zebul’s determined answer appeared not to be playful or conniving, but sincere, his manner more resolute.
Zebul broke the silence. “Obadiah, you have every reason not to believe my sincerity in what I want to tell you.”
Obadiah reacted with a cold stare. Zebul decided to approach the subject another way.
“I have been to see Ahijah.” He detected a slight waver in the governor’s attitude. “I do not intend to reveal to you all of the events and personal distress I have gone through to reach my present state of mind, Obadiah, but my interests now are to eliminate the Baal religion from our courts and our land.”
Coldness returned to Obadiah’s stare. “It is as I suspected. I only regret that Yahweh does not have a high priest in office who would take your course of action for the right reasons.” Disgustedly, he pulled his cloak around his shoulders and started toward the door.
The fat priest moved to block his exit. “Obadiah!” The governor stopped. With all of the dignity of his office evident in his upraised chin and erect posture, he stared again at Zebul with exaggerated patience, as though the priest were an exasperating child on whom discipline would be wasted. “Obadiah.” Zebul spoke more evenly. “I do not expect to win.”
Obadiah’s shoulders relaxed just a bit, and a slight furrow in his brow softened his response. “I can assure you that what you have just stated in undoubtedly correct.” He turned from the door. “Such being the case, I don’t suppose you would tell me who has been your adversary for so long just what you hope to accomplish by your act.”
“Yes, I will tell you. I don’t want to pretend that the religions of Yahweh and Melkart can live side by side. They cannot. Their values are almost precise opposites. I am an observer of the religious scene by profession, Obadiah. If Yahweh’s people accommodate themselves to Melkart, Melkart will win. Battle lines must become apparent, so that people will be forced to choose between the two religions.”
Obadiah seated himself slowly. There was a touch of warmth in his eyes, and the lines in his face were softer. “Zebul, I only wish that I could relax and be confident of your purpose.”
“Such confidence requires time. This particular decision, I am afraid, does not allow for that time. You may do as you wish or think about me as you will, but my
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