Finally, he arrived and looked at his sons. “If one wants to be an effective ruler, one treats dignitaries with hospitality. You must learn from me and take care of those who are guests at your table. That said, where’s my ale?”
Menelik smirked. “I’m afraid that Rehoboam’s ale is too strong for one as old as you. We do have some goat milk that may not be so hard on your stomach.”
Solomon smiled at his son. “You have learned much. Now let me teach you what happens when one disrespects his elders.” Solomon reached out with unbelievable speed and grabbed the mug of ale from Menelik. Within moments, the mug was properly drained and Solomon called for another. The King’s beverage was ushered and Solomon wasted no time in draining the second mug as well. When he was done, he looked at the four men. “Am I caught up yet? I do not prefer to fall behind in the Game of Drink.”
“You are doing quite well, King,” Juan answered. He was enjoying this side of Solomon, outside of the formalities of the throne room.
They drank and conversed until Solomon’s top adviser signaled it was time for the speeches to begin. It was customary that the King would give the first speech, followed by the person the King mentioned in his speech. The second person would then give a speech mentioning someone else in the room and then that person would give the next speech. This would continue for hours.
The purpose was to obviously embarrass the subject of the speech (which is why the King went first as no one wanted to embarrass him). Often, the stories had been heard before but many of those were very good and the crowd didn’t mind.
One particular favorite was of a noble who found himself naked inside of a chicken house. The actual situation was overall harmless but the story had become so embellished that the particular noble would cringe when he was brought up; which was all the more reason to bring up his tale in the first place.
The speeches continued for hours until the audience was quite intoxicated. At that point, a story would get too personal for someone and a challenge would be issued. That challenge would be returned and then the fighting would begin. Juan and Diego had been to dozens of feasts and no matter what country or culture, they all ended the same. They were pleased that this feast was no different.
A tale had just been told of a young man who was mistaken for a woman. That particular young man did not look back on that moment so lightly and challenged the speaker to a sword fight. When the intoxicated young man realized he did not have a sword, he grabbed the leg bone of an ibex as a club and the first fight of the night began.
As the evening moved into night and the night moved into early morning, the drinking and fighting slowed and eventually came to a halt. Men passed out in their chairs or wherever they could find a place. The fires died down and the room, with the exception of drunken snoring, grew silent.
The window showed a pink morning sky and Juan found that Solomon and he were the only ones still awake (with the exception of the king’s personal guards who stood soberly against the wall).
Solomon had been talking to one of the elders from a nearby village when the elder’s chair fell over backwards dragging him with it. Juan expected the elder to rise up in embarrassment but instead he remained where the upturned chair placed him.
“Either he’s dead or he passed out. I guess we’ll see in the daylight,” Solomon commented and motioned for Juan to join him.
Juan brought his chair with him and planted it next to Solomon.
“You can handle your ale,” Solomon said approvingly as Juan sat down.
“As can you, King. Men such as us did not reach the age we are without being able to outlast everyone else.”
“How true,” Solomon laughed. “So, have you enjoyed your time in my kingdom?”
Juan thought for a moment before answering. He knew that precedence called for a standard gracious answer. He also knew that Solomon was one who did not care much for people telling him what he wanted to hear; he respected men who spoke their mind.
“The land is beautiful,” Juan answered honestly. “The people of the kingdom, however, are what make a nation.”
Solomon appreciated that Juan was willing to speak outside of the customary. “And what do you think of the people?”
“Many years ago, I was an ambassador to people who lived very far to the north. The people of this land remind me of these people.”
“You have fond memories of these people?”
“I do. They were a great people. Some of my best years were spent among them.”
Solomon looked at Juan for a moment and then turned his head to stare off into the dying fire. He was silent for a brief period. “Why are you here?” he asked turning back to Juan. “You spoke what needed to be said at my throne to appease those in presence of our conversation. But I know for a fact that the King of Tarshish does not worship the same God and the Ark means nothing to him.
“Now, it’s just the two of us. So tell me, why are you here?”
Juan inhaled and knew this was his moment. “We are here for the Ark, as I said.”
“You wish to take the Ark?”
“We do not. We wish for you to hide the Ark.”
Solomon studied Juan. “You already know I plan to send the Ark with Menelik to his new kingdom?”
