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it.
    Shebna turned away, his eyes burning. Finally Gedaliah hauled himself to his feet. He was in high spirits from the news of his good fortune and from the wine. He was beginning to slur his words.
    “Well, if that’s everything, why don’t we go pay our last respects to my brother?”
    Shebna couldn’t look at him. “I am sorry, but I cannot go.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because I cannot bear to watch him dying inch by inch.”
    Gedaliah shrugged. “All right, Shebna. After everything you’ve done for me, I guess the least I can do is excuse you.” He moved toward the door. “Is Hezekiah in his bedroom?”
    “Yes, but for the sake of mercy, do not visit your brother unless you are prepared to show him some compassion.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “It is immoral to gloat in the face of a dying man.”
    “What would you know about morality, Shebna?” Gedaliah let the door slam on his way out.
    Shebna felt filthy after his conversation with the prince, and he had the urge to wash his hands. Gedaliah was right; if he had any moral integrity at all, he would resign rather than help the prince destroy everything that King Hezekiah had accomplished. But in Gedaliah’s eyes, only traitors resigned—and Shebna valued survival more than integrity. It was too late. He had already cast his lot with the prince.
    Shebna turned to stare out of the window, wishing the fire in the harem had never happened. As he gazed into the darkness, bitter tears rolled silently down his cheeks.

6
    ELIAKIM SAT IN HIS palace office and read through one of the petitions stacked on the huge pile in front of him. The request contradicted the Law and would have to be denied. But then he saw Shebna’s note approving it, and Eliakim’s anger flared. What was Shebna trying to get away with? He knew this decision couldn’t stand.
    Arguments with the haughty Egyptian had become daily events since Hezekiah’s illness, and as much as Eliakim dreaded another one, it couldn’t be avoided. He headed down the palace hallway to find Shebna.
    After a long search, Eliakim found him in the royal archives, deep in conversation with someone who stood in the shadows. Shebna stopped midsentence as soon as he spotted Eliakim.
    “Now what do you want?”
    Eliakim waved the parchment. “We need to discuss this petition. Your decision contradicts the Law.”
    The other man stepped forward. Eliakim’s stomach rolled over in revulsion when he recognized Prince Gedaliah.
    “Well, if it isn’t the busybody engineer,” Gedaliah said. “King
    Hezekiah’s faithful messenger boy. I’ve heard that you’re a big man now—secretary of state!”
    Eliakim ignored him and held the petition out to Shebna. “Do you have a minute to discuss this in private, or should I come back later?”
    “There is nothing to discuss,” Shebna said. “It is a simple decision. The man owes a debt, and he will have to pay it.”
    “Yes, but you can’t take away his land without leaving him the right of redemption. According to the Torah—”
    “Here we go again,” Shebna sighed. He and Gedaliah exchanged glances.
    The prince took a few steps toward Eliakim. “You really enjoy forcing your outdated Torah laws on everyone, don’t you? But I’ll bet if we checked into your personal life, you wouldn’t be so holy and perfect.”
    Eliakim said nothing. His silence seemed to goad the prince.
    “You know, I’ve always wondered about your lovely Israelite wife,” he continued. “She claims that the Assyrians captured her and made her their slave—and that she miraculously escaped from them. But maybe she didn’t really escape at all. Maybe she was sent here to be the Assyrians’ eyes and ears.”
    Surprise and anger swept through Eliakim. “My wife doesn’t concern you.”
    “She does if she’s an Assyrian spy. What a coincidence that she found her way to your house, your bed—seeing that you’re such an important man.”
    Eliakim rushed toward Gedaliah,