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The Tishbite
The Untold Story of Elijah

By Kurt W. Schuller (USA)

Chapter 4

This manuscript (currently titled "the tishbite" but I am considering "A Man of God") is unfinished This Is a fictional account of the life of Elijah. It is raw and powerful reflecting the actual state of life at the time.It has a strong sexual theme which is necessary because of the story it tells. It is both inspirational as well as entertaining. It was written to entertain the reader first.` Your feedback is welcome I hope you enjoy.

Part one: A Man Of God

Chapter four

Obadiah waited patiently next to the empty throne. He took advantage of the Kings tardiness to go over the details of his report in his head, figuring out how best to make the good news sound great and the bad news sound like good news. Fortunately the bad news was at a minimum. Work was to begin that day on the barracks for the priests of Baal and they had to date recruited only 36 builders for the project, when the plan that he had devised had called for 50. For some reason, the number thirty-six stuck in his mind and he paused in his thinking, determined to figure out what was its relevance.
“Of course” he said out loud.
This was the anniversary of the end of the war between Abijah and Jeroboam. It was exactly 36 years ago, as a young man of twenty that he had come to serve in the court of Jeroboam. Those had been vicious and frightening times. In those days the king’s palace was in Tizrah, where Obadiah had been born. His father secured him a position in the palace as supervisor of the kitchen. Not long after, Jeroboam succumbed to a disease of the lungs. His son Nadab then came to power. After only two years as King a man known as Baasha, one of Nadab’s own generals, assassinated him. Baasha then assumed the throne and killed every single member of Jeroboams family. Obadiah winced as he thought back to that terrible time. Jeroboam had filled the palace with members of his family. The screams of that day sometimes still were heard in his nightmares. When the purge was over Obadiah was one of the few palace workers left to clean up the blood. Baasha appointed him as chief palace manager. In the years that followed he survived by doing his job incredibly well. With the successful construction of Samaria, an entire city on a hill built to be the home of Omri’s palace, he became the most powerful man in all of Israel, next to Omri. Now, with Omri’s death, all that was about to change.
“Obadiah” screamed Ahab. “Are you daydreaming?”
Obadiah had been so caught up in his reminiscing that he had not seen the king come into the room and sit down at the throne. He fell prostrate to the floor burying his nose against the cold marble slab.
“Please forgive an old man my king. It was a moment of brief senility, probably brought about by a lack of sleep. I was up very late last night working on the plans for your priests quarters.” He lied.
“How could you not see me enter?” Ahab sneered. “Just how old are you anyway?”
Obadiah kept his face to the floor. “I am fifty six my Lord”
Ahab’s eyes grew wide and he laughed, “ How is it that you have managed to stay in your position, much less live for so long?”
“Had your father never spoke of me?”
“My father never spoke to me about anything” said Ahab with a vinegary growl.
“I am sorry my King.  I am sure that his neglect for you was only because he was so concerned with Israel and her welfare. He always spoke to me of you very highly.”
Ahab roared with laughter. “Get up old fool. Now I know how you have managed to survive for so long.”
Obadiah rose to his feet, as Ahab looked around the room at his various advisors.
 “Have any of you ever seen ass kissed with such artful skill?
Ahab put his hands together in mock applause. “Encore maestro!” The king turned and lifted his robe, exposing his naked backside. “Once more, with feeling.”
Ahab watched as Obadiah trembled, his face turning red. He dropped his robes and stepped down from his throne, walking over to where Obadiah stood. Leaning in very close he locked his eyes on Obadiah’s and whispered.
“Truth is old fool, that I hated my father and he hated me. It was the only area we were ever in agreement.”
Ahab’s breath was putrid from rotting teeth and Obadiah winced as he fought an urge to gag. He thanked God when Ahab turned from him to speak to Rabah, Baal’s chief priest.
“How are things proceeding with our call for young men and women? Have the people been cooperating?”
Rabah shook his head no. “We are well short of what we need for the ritual, Lord.”
Ahab turned his attention back to Obadiah. “What should I do with these disobedient people, eh?”
 “I do not think it is out of disrespect for you sire. It is the planting time and these young ones are needed to put in the crops. I am sure they will be arriving as the season permits.”
“But the cycle of the moon approaches and the ritual must be performed that day!” interrupted Rabah.
“And so it shall, Priest!” Ahab turned to Memnon, commandeer of his armies. “Send out patrols to all corners of the Kingdom and bring as many as the ritual requires, by force if necessary. These stubborn people will learn that I am not as weak as my father.”
Ahab turned, walked back to his throne and sat down, his eyes returning to Obadiah.
 “After all. What is more important? Their Kings commands or a silly planting, eh.”
Ahab eyes narrowed and he glared at Obadiah. “As for you old man, you have amused me- today.   However, if they’re any other moments of senility in the future, I will sacrifice you to Baal. Now, what is the palace report for today?”
Obadiah nervously cleared his throat and began. “My king, I have good news on the construction of the priests barracks. I have managed to cut 14 builders from the project, at a savings of thousands of Shekels”. . .

Continued Next Week