Song of Redemption Read Online Free PDF Page A

her grief.
    After a while she became aware of voices and movement outside in the courtyard. She looked down and saw Hezekiah standing below her window, talking to an older man with a white beard. Their voices were too soft for her to hear their words, but she watched her husband as he talked, gesturing with his large, strong hands. She longed to call out to him, but her throat was choked with tears. Finally Hezekiah embraced the older man and disappeared alone into his chambers. He would find his concubine waiting.
    Hephzibah was barely twenty years old, and she knew she would be Hezekiah’s prisoner for the rest of her life. He didn’t want her, but no one else could have her, either. She would have to live here alone until the day she died, and there was nothing she could do about it.
    Outside Hephzibah’s window, King Ahaz’s clock tower loomed in the courtyard. Most of her days would be spent watching the sun’s shadow inch slowly up the smooth stone stairs, then back down again. But today the skies were overcast. There would be no shadow. And Hephzibah would remain frozen in time like this—forever.

    Hezekiah returned from his morning prayers with Zechariah feeling more troubled than comforted. Thoughts of political intrigue and conspiracy filled his mind, and his mood matched the gray, dreary day outside. When he entered his chambers he was surprised to find a concubine waiting for him.
    “You look so cold, my lord,” she murmured as she hurried into his arms. “Why don’t you sit over here by the fire and let me warm you.”
    Hezekiah was still unaccustomed to such lavish attention, but he rather liked it. The concubine was one of his favorites—a lively, attractive girl—and she offered him a welcome diversion from his troubling thoughts. He allowed her to lead him closer to the hearth, enjoying the sweet fragrance of her perfume. “This is a nice surprise,” he said. “I don’t remember sending for you.”
    She cupped her hands around one of his, rubbing it gently to take off the chill. “The chamberlain thought you might like someone to help warm up your chambers.”
    “Did he, now?”
    “Yes … King Ahaz always did.”
    At the mention of Ahaz, any stirring of desire Hezekiah may have felt suddenly vanished. He clearly recalled the many concubines who had hovered around his father, and the memory disgusted him. The pursuit of pleasure had occupied most of Ahaz’s time while his nation had nearly collapsed in poverty and disarray. Hezekiah pulled away from her.
    “Did I say something wrong?” she asked in alarm.
    “Tell the chamberlain that I’m not like King Ahaz. You’re dismissed until I send for you.” He knew from her expression that he had hurt her feelings, but she bowed low and left his chambers without a word.
    As the door closed behind her, Hezekiah’s worries suddenly returned, and for a moment he regretted his hasty decision. But he had work to do, a conference with his advisors to prepare for. He rang for his servants.

3
    K ING H EZEKIAH WAS SEATED alone in his throne room when the chamberlain ushered Isaiah inside. “I am honored to meet you, Your Majesty,” the prophet said as he walked forward and bowed to him.
    “We’ve met before, Rabbi—a long time ago, in the Valley of Hinnom.”
    “Yes, of course. I remember.”
    The throne room was gloomy with the windows shuttered against the rain, but even in the pale light of the lampstands Hezekiah could see that the prophet had aged in the years since he had last seen him. His light brown hair had turned gray at the temples, and flecks of silver sparkled in his reddish beard. Fine wrinkles creased the corners of his blue eyes, but they were still clear and penetrating. Isaiah wasn’t very tall and had only a slim build, but his presence seemed to fill the room.
    “Your Majesty, Micah has told me how you’ve decided to embrace God’s laws and renew our nation’s covenant with Yahweh,” he said. “For that, you’ve