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transition of power—for the good of the nation.”
    Gedaliah laughed out loud. “What a cunning mongrel you are, Shebna. You want to make sure you hang on to your precious job— am I right?”
    Shebna didn’t answer. He didn’t dare open his mouth for fear of what he might say.
    “All right, all right, we can work something out,” Gedaliah said, laughing. “I suppose I owe you that much for not gathering all the grieving heirs to the dying king’s bedside. Let’s talk about what else needs to be done—to ensure a smooth transition of power, as you put it.”
    Shebna sighed deeply. “What do you want to know?”
    “To begin with, who are my enemies? And sit down, will you? You get on my nerves pacing back and forth like a caged lion.”
    It was exactly how Shebna felt. Trapped. “No, thank you. I prefer to stand.”
    “Start with the Royal Council. Do I have any enemies there?”
    “The only enemy you need to worry about on the council is Eliakim ben Hilkiah. He is intelligent, resourceful—”
    “And as cunning as you are?”
    “Perhaps. If anyone could successfully rally support behind another heir, it would be Eliakim.” It galled Shebna to admit the truth.
    “He’s a threat to me, then?”
    “Yes. He has very close ties to the priests and prophets.”
    “What do you suggest I do about him?”
    “Nothing, for the moment. I have buried him under a mountain of worthless paper work. He believes he is faithfully running the nation during the king’s illness, and I have given him little time to think of starting a rebellion. I assigned someone to watch him in case he tries to contact one of your brothers, but so far he has not even accepted the fact that the king is dying. With luck, he will not realize what is happening until it is too late.”
    “Clever, Shebna. Very clever.”
    “Your other major concern is the military.”
    “General Jonadab?”
    “Yes. He is fiercely loyal to King Hezekiah. I also believe he would sooner take orders from Eliakim than from you or me.”
    “Do you think Jonadab will cause trouble?”
    “Possibly. That is why I sent him to Beersheba this morning, along with a large contingent of the king’s army. For the sake of security, I chose a few ambitious young army officers to remain behind, men who are looking to advance themselves.”
    “You sly fox,” Gedaliah laughed. “You realize, of course, that I am deeply in your debt. You’ve handed me the crown on a silver platter! Come on, Shebna. This calls for a toast.”
    Gedaliah poured himself another drink and raised his glass. Shebna didn’t move. “You will have to excuse me, but I am in mourning. My king—my friend—is about to die.”
    “Have it your way, then.” Gedaliah raised the glass to his lips and sipped noisily. “Naturally, you’ll want to plan a lavish and fitting funeral for my dear brother. He was a pretty good king, all things considered, and very popular with the people. I think he should be buried in the tombs of David’s descendants. Let’s lay him to rest with great honor, Shebna. Too bad he never had a son.” He drained his glass. “We should also begin preparations for my coronation, don’t you think?”
    “You would be wise to stay out of the public eye until after the funeral.”
    “Is there a sympathetic priest we could persuade to perform my coronation at the Temple, or do they all hate me?”
    “I will have to give it some thought.”
    “Let’s see—who else do I need to worry about? City elders? Court judges? Any troublemakers among the nobility?”
    “None of them know how seriously ill the king is. He was running the kingdom from his bed until a few days ago.”
    “Good, good. I’m glad you kept things quiet. By the time everyone recovers from this shock, I’ll be king.”
    “Yes. You will be king. It is what you have always wanted.”
    Gedaliah refilled his glass and raised it high, once again. “Long live King Gedaliah!” He laughed before draining