David & Bathsheba Part I

00:00:00 Speaker 1: Previously on The Chosen People Two Jebusites rose their spears to end David, but Uriah stepped in just in time. Uriah tackled one into the other. Tumbling on the floor, Uriah was able to jab one with the blade and then strangle the other. 00:00:19 Speaker 2: I owe you one, Uriah. Give me a hefty gift at my wedding. 00:00:24 Speaker 1: Uriah caught a fist and pivoted to throw another enemy over his shoulder. Uriah was a fierce warrior and loyal friend. David took more wives and bore more children, expanding his house and his name. 00:00:41 Speaker 2: Another wife, then? That's a lot to manage, my friend. 00:00:46 Speaker 3: I'd be cautious. 00:00:47 Speaker 2: How many strings can a man tie together before he strangles him? 00:00:56 Speaker 1: This episode of The Chosen People contains explicit content that may be triggering for some listeners and inappropriate for young children. Listener discretion is advised. Spring came softly to Jerusalem, like a lover's breath. The wind that swept over the city of David carried the scent of myrtle blossoms and olive groves, of warm earth. and sweeter things. King David lay on a heap of silk cushions atop the highest terrace of the palace, his armour replaced by linen and a cup of red at his side. His feet were bare. He was at ease, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. Below him, the streets of the city bustled like veins in a living thing, But David watched them as a man half asleep, disinterested, detached. He had sent Joab to grind Ammon's bones to dust. Abishai rode beside him, and Uriah, loyal, upright Uriah. 00:02:11 Speaker 2: Marched as well. I've earned a moment of peace. 00:02:16 Speaker 1: And yet peace, like wine left too long in the sun, can sour. He stood barefoot and wandered to the edge of the parapet, his fingers wrapped around the warm stone railing. He breathed in deeply and exhaled a king's weariness. He told himself he was tired. That was all. It was his right to lean back for a moment. It was his duty to have a moment of rest. At least that's what he told himself. And then, As he leaned leisurely over the edge of his balcony, he saw her. It began with a shimmer, water catching light. A woman, alone on the roof of a modest house, was washing herself in a bronze basin. Her back was turned, her skin slick with oil and water. Dark hair hung wet down her spine. When she rose to rinse, the linen about her waist slipped low and David's breath caught. He should have turned away. He did not. His hand gripped the wooden railing tighter. His dark and hungry eyes traced her every line and curve as if memorizing a song. She bathed with a kind of sacred grace, unknowing and unashamed. The steam from her basin curled in the air, and at that moment, she seemed less woman than enchantment. Desire stirred in David like a slow-burning charcoal fire. He watched her like one would a play, enthralled. She wrapped herself at last in a simple cloth and vanished back into her home. The water on the roof cooled. The spell broke. but not in David. 00:04:21 Speaker 2: I must have her. She must be mine. 00:04:25 Speaker 1: David didn't think. He didn't pause, reflect, or question his desires. He was carried by his desires like one would drift on a tide. He turned and called to one of his servants. 00:04:40 Speaker 2: You there, go to the house below, the one with the fig tree by the gate. Find out who lives there. The woman who was just bathing on the roof? Bring me her name. 00:04:55 Speaker 1: The servant bowed low and slipped away without question. David returned to his cushions and stretched himself like a cat in sunlight. He closed his eyes and wove her beauty into the folds of his memory. He would not sleep, not truly. His thoughts were aflame. He didn't consider the Lord. He didn't question his choices. He would ride the wave. The light was low when the servant returned and the sky bled crimson across the stones of Jerusalem. David stirred from his half-sleep the scent of fragrant oils and flowers clinging to his robes and hair. A servant stood above him. Voice quiet but clear. 00:05:48 Speaker 4: My lord, I have returned with news. 00:05:51 Speaker 1: David blinked, slow as a man coming out of a dream. He sat up, the cushions shifting beneath him. 00:05:59 Speaker 4: The woman you wanted me to find. Her name is Bathsheba, granddaughter of General Ahithophel, of your high council. 00:06:07 Speaker 1: The servant paused, emphasizing the next point. 00:06:11 Speaker 4: She's also the wife of Uriah the Hittite, one of your own mighty men. 00:06:17 Speaker 2: I see. Uriah is away with Joab, fighting the Ammonites. So she's alone. 00:06:27 Speaker 1: David said nothing for a long while. The servant remained still as a shadow. There was a storm behind the king's eyes. He turned his face away and stared out at the sun's retreat. Fingers clenched at his side. This was no mistake now, no idle gaze caught on beauty. This was a decision, a deliberate thing. He told himself he had earned this. He had fought giants. He had fled mad kings. He had bled, clawed, and wept his way to the crown. What was one night of pleasure to a man who had carried the weight of nations? 00:07:14 Speaker 2: Bring her to me. 00:07:15 Speaker 1: The servant did not reply. He bowed, turned, and vanished into the evening. David went to his chamber and cast aside his robes, Jonathan's robes. Although the memory of Jonathan was far from David at the moment, as was the memory of the Lord. Candles were lit, and wine was poured. He stood before the polished bronze mirror and saw the man staring back. Not the shepherd boy, not the giant slayer, not the warrior king beloved of the people, another man entirely. He straightened his collar, smoothed his beard and waited. The city of Jerusalem lay quiet. The hush of midnight blanketing the homes of the innocent. But within the palace of the king, the fire still burned. David sat alone and stared into the flame. The fire crackled and hissed, licking up the dry wood with a hunger that matched his own. He felt it inside him, that same consuming heat. 00:08:39 Speaker 5: Then. 00:08:40 Speaker 1: He heard the door creak open. The hinges groaned, slow and solemn. The iron handles gave way to the servant's hand and through the parting came the woman. She stepped into the dim, trembling light of the flames and the room itself seemed to still. Bath Sheba. She wore a simple but elegant pale linen robe Her hair was unbound beneath the veil, falling in dark waves down her back, a river of night spilling over bare shoulders. Her hands were clasped before her, knuckles white from tension. The flicker of flame kissed her skin with amber light. The door closed behind her. They were alone. David said nothing. Neither did she. They stared across the space between them, her silence filled with things unspoken. Bathsheba bowed her head. Her voice, when it came, was a whisper barely above breath, yet it was unwavering and decided. 00:09:59 Speaker 5: You summoned me. my lord. Is the counsel of my grandfather growing stale? 00:10:04 Speaker 1: David raised his eyebrows at her daring confidence in the presence of a king. 00:10:09 Speaker 2: Is that what they say of me now? That I have grown bored of counsel? 00:10:14 Speaker 5: They say many things of kings, my lord, but only a fool believes he is beyond counsel. and only a woman with no future forgets to listen. 00:10:23 Speaker 1: He failed to see the warning between her words. His desire blinded him. Instead, he rose and approached her. 00:10:33 Speaker 2: And I see you listened to my call. 00:10:36 Speaker 5: Of course, my king. I heed counsel. Now, tell me, what would a king want with a woman like me? 00:10:44 Speaker 1: Her eyes then slid up to meet his. They both knew it wasn't a question. Not quite. She knew why she was here. No woman came to the king's chamber at midnight unaware. She saw David, striking in his features, handsome in the firelight, regal in his royal robes. Many women in Israel pined after him. But Bathsheba didn't have the luxury of desire. She wasn't given the luxury of considering what she would and would not want. She was beckoned by the king. It was less an invitation and more of a command. She had no control over that. But what she did have control over was how she presented herself. She could have cried, pleaded, begged him to send her home. She did none of those things. There was power in stillness, power in speaking last. Bathsheba had watched the men of her family long enough to learn. The women who survived did so not by resisting, but by outlasting. And so she held his gaze. Let him see the woman he had summoned was not a lamb, but something quieter, harder. Her blade sheathed in silk. Her heart was torn in two. She was there and she had to accept it. But should she enjoy it? Should she play the game? Should she lean into her fate or fight it? Either way, she was David's. The king then closed the gap between them. Slowly, he crossed the floor. his bare feet whispering against the rug. Bathsheba did not move, but betrayed the confidence of her voice and the decisiveness of her mind. Her hands trembled. Her breath came short. I'm glad you came. 00:13:02 Speaker 5: And now that I'm here, what shall you do? 00:13:05 Speaker 1: David reached out and touched her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his own. He couldn't see the fear in her eyes. His desire blinded him. David's hand did not fall away. The lust in his chest screamed louder than the voice in his soul. He kissed her, and she did not pull away. Perhaps she wanted to pull away. Perhaps she wanted to lean in. It mattered little. Her choices were stripped from her, as gently as the sleeves of her gown. The king was warm and strong, and the room spun with incense and wine. The night unfolded in silence and sin. David moved as though bewitched. Bathsheba followed his every movement, resigning to the choice made for her. When her robe fully slipped from her shoulders, And when his lips found hers, they forgot the war, the crown, the laws of Moses, Uriah. David, poet, warrior, king, made love like a starving man. And in the dark afterward, when she slept beside him and the fire burned low, David lay still and stared into the dying coals. He felt no shame. Not yet, but it would come. It always does. Weeks passed. Spring deepened and the city of Jerusalem bloomed with blossoms and the scent of new life. But the king did not bloom with it. He buried his days beneath council meetings, coin counts and petitions. Matters that should have stirred a ruler's pride, but now meant nothing. In truth, David was absent. His body remained, but his soul had fled. David was like a tree uprooted from the water. He only thought of her, Bathsheba. Every stolen second, every breathless gasp, every sigh beneath his skin. The taste of her had not left him, and worse, no pleasure could replace her. David bedded others, he tried, but the hunger remained. No perfume or soft sigh stirred him as she had. He had become a man gnawed by want, ruled by shadows. He turned to his servant, lounging silently near the stairwell. 00:16:09 Speaker 2: Bring her again. Tell Bathsheba the king wishes to speak with her. 00:16:14 Speaker 1: The servant hesitated. He looked like a man with thorns behind his teeth. 00:16:20 Speaker 4: My lord, Bathsheba has... she's already asked to see you. 00:16:25 Speaker 2: Wonderful. Send for her. And, as always, say nothing to anyone. 00:16:33 Speaker 1: The door opened. Bathsheba came encloaked, not in beauty, but in burden. The linen draped her frame, but it could not hide her fear. David, ignorant, smiled and stepped forward. 00:16:50 Speaker 2: You look radiant. 00:16:52 Speaker 1: But Bathsheba stepped back. There was silence. Then her voice, fragile, broken. 00:17:01 Speaker 5: My king... I am with child. 00:17:04 Speaker 1: The words pierced like a spear. David's knees nearly gave beneath him. He gripped the edge of the table, blood draining from his face. 00:17:15 Speaker 2: Are you certain? Could it be your husband's? 00:17:19 Speaker 1: Bathsheba's eyes turned sharp at that. What followed was a slow, simmering anger. She was no longer a submissive servant summoned to the courts of the king. Now that she bore the king's child within her, she could speak her mind. 00:17:38 Speaker 5: My husband? You mean Uriah. Uriah, one of your generals. Uriah has been on the battlefield since the snows melted. You know that. You sent him. It's your child. 00:17:57 Speaker 2: And now.... 00:17:59 Speaker 5: Now I'm alone. 00:18:02 Speaker 4: Exposed. 00:18:04 Speaker 1: And. 00:18:06 Speaker 5: And it's your fault. 00:18:08 Speaker 1: She did not scream. She did not weep like a widow in black. Her grief was quieter, more dangerous. She stood like a statue in the flames of what had been. And David, the king, felt smaller than he had ever felt. He wanted to cry out to the Lord, but he did not. David put a hand to his temple, then to his lips. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He whispered words, though he barely knew what they meant. 00:18:45 Speaker 2: I'll make this right. It will be as if none of this happened. 00:18:49 Speaker 1: Bathsheba stepped back at that, wondering if she should be terrified. She certainly didn't trust him. 00:18:56 Speaker 2: I swear it. You'll be protected. No shame will come to you. 00:19:00 Speaker 3: No shame? 00:19:00 Speaker 5: No shame? 00:19:02 Speaker 3: No shame? What do you mean, no shame? 00:19:07 Speaker 2: Calm down. I'll fix this. 00:19:10 Speaker 1: How? 00:19:11 Speaker 2: I'll send for Uriah. He'll return to your side and bed you. The child will be his, by right. 00:19:20 Speaker 3: And it will be like what we did never even happened? You get to remain the anointed righteous king of Israel, and I get the privilege of lying to my husband every day. 00:19:30 Speaker 1: No! 00:19:32 Speaker 4: Sounds fair. 00:19:34 Speaker 1: If David hadn't been lost in a sea of his own paranoia, he would have taken the jab to heart. But David was nowhere to be found. Not the real David. This man was a ghost. a shell of the man who once knelt before Samuel. Bathsheba left, and David sat for a long time, staring into the darkened window. At last, he called his servant again. 00:20:04 Speaker 2: Send word to Joab. I want Uriah brought home from the war. 00:20:11 Speaker 1: The servant bowed, but even as the message was sent, David knew. This would not be fixed with ink and scrolls. He had taken the first step off the cliff. The fall had only begun. Written by Aaron Salvato, Brie Rosely and Chris Baig. You can hear more Prey.com productions on the Prey.com app, available on the Apple App Store and Google Play Store. If you enjoyed The Chosen People, please rate and leave a review.