The Ships of Tarshish

The Ships of Tarshish

by Ramsés Dávila-Luna @ The Writer’s Cavern

Morrow marked the first sail.

King Solomon assigned his confidant to man the first ship of Tarshish. The gent was named Thomas Skew, a gray-haired pipe smoker who carried a flute. He often twirled his big locks at the very first sign of being confused.

At the dock, the ship's company loaded bars of gold onto the tween deck. “Give this to the beast when it rises out of the sea. The gold for its key,” Solomon told Skew.

A lit candle by the king’s bedside on that night stirred ideas. Solomon stared at the flame and followed its silhouette on the ceiling. The yellow promised great feats and a cure to his sorrow. As the wax melted, he saw the maps of the lands to be conquered and the women he would wife for each victory - delusions lost in the sands of his mind.

Thomas Skew and the crew set sail in the morning towards the North Sea. Solomon waved back at the ship from the dock with his stern eyes. The striking gaze made the captain twirl his whiskers.

It was weeks of calm sail with plenty of ale. The drunken crew now turned to band and sang as onboard disease ravaged their hands. Skew danced with his flute and blew all the right tunes.

But the blue below suddenly fragmented, absorbing all their loosh. Winds picked up and whistled through the ship’s wooden cracks. Waves began to crash against the top mast, and the men grew more watchful. The timber on the ship creaked as it drew in more water than it could keep. The vessel was headed into the eye of a vicious storm caused by strange magic, and the helm would not budge or turn.

From the side of the ship, a monster contorted. Its scales broke the surface and flashed rainbows at supersonic speed. Amongst the messy rain and the cold mist, a dragon suddenly hovered over the ship and looked at Skew with the same malice it sensed in him.

“Your gold has no weight here. Send me someone good-natured for the key that doesn’t belong to your king,” the dragon said to Skew. The creature drew near the ship, enchanting the men with its scales and their sparkle. Three guards leaped at the dragon with daggers in hand, mesmerized by its precious skin, but the scales opened and devoured them, adding to its rainbow fortune.

On land, King Solomon prayed in his temple with his eyes closed. He heard Skew’s voice enter and cupped his hands in the air, filling them with the key in his imagination and all its perfection. Yet nothing fell into its place, and Solomon opened his eyes to feel the brokenness. The captain whispered the dragon’s request to the conqueror's left ear. Salomon listened carefully as the sides of his temple trembled in bemusement.

Salomon waited for the next full moon to give light to his altar. Fire would remedy the defeat and fill the void in him. He placed five goats upon the pyre, and twelve wives who could not bear children followed. The spirits flew all around him, and the king bathed in the ashes to call the key.

Soon after, Salomon was carried on a palanquin into Bethany, surrounded by guards and many of his wives. It was the poorest village in Jerusalem and the surest place to find a person untainted by the kingdom. The cities were full of swine, and bad habits often mingled with the order.

Masses gathered around the king as he entered the townlet square. Solomon's gaze swept methodically across the crowd, observing every reaction as his wives and guards handed out food. Gentle, sprawled-out hands quickly turned into rabid claws. The commoners began to fight among themselves for every scrap of food laid out before them. Out of the corner of his eye, Solomon spotted a young lad in the distance, his right hand pressed to his chest as he prayed. “Set some food by that lad’s feet,” Solomon told his youngest wife there.

With regal elegance, the consort set the offering at the young man’s feet, yet his gaze never met hers, leaving the food to sit forgotten. She caressed his cheek, marveling at his beauty. “What makes you pray so much to the ordained?" she asked. "Are you that weak?” The guards' spears clashed immediately between the woman and the young man. The blades readied to strike until Salomon swiftly raised his right hand, signaling the lad was his to keep.

So, the young man was confined to the king's palace, where he was assigned a room with the finest linens and carpets to match. Yet all the food laid before him remained untouched. Even the wives walked in unclothed and offered him good wine, but principle could not be undone. The lad would never drop his right hand over his heart when he spoke to God. In that moment, Salomon listened to the fires that spoke to him and told the prisoner, “You are my key to the second ship of Tarshish.”

Came to pass that another ship left land. Guards and crew protected the young man as the vessel vanished into the deep ocean mirage. Thomas Skew joined the men, but this time without the ale. They were ordered to maintain the highest good along the entire way. Something about the prisoner filled Skew with inner tranquility; his fingers never curled hairs aboard the ship as the lad’s qi assured him this was part of his destiny. The weeks passed again on their voyage until the ship began to rumble. Ominous skies and violent waves appeared once more, giving way to the behemoth.

Months came and went without any word from the travelers. Salomon held his third child, Basemath, as he looked out at the ocean and pondered. In anger, he ordered his armies to slaughter by fire all those who belonged to Bethany. Through the flames and his ire, he was reminded of what he was after. “I will board the third and final ship of Tarshish,” Solomon declared as he admired the fire and disaster.

This time, more guards and ninety wives filled the ship. The wives assisted the rowers to bring more peace to their king. Waves fought the vessel the whole way, as if telling it to go away. Whenever Solomon tried to light a candle aboard the ship to pray, the high winds or the rain would extinguish the flame. A storm formed in the distance, and the ship began to rock and sway. Solomon screamed at the waters and demanded his way.

Leviathan heard the trifling screams and shot out of the depths with the key attached to its forehead. "You demanded an innocent for the key!" Solomon shouted at the dragon, his eyes narrowing. "I call foul play!" Wives and guards crowded around Solomon in a protective huddle, yet the dragon still drew near, eyeing the king with discontent.

“The young lad told me to keep the key in exchange for what you no longer have. He was the only one granted safe passage and went merrily on his way,” the dragon explained to Salomon. The nasty beast snarled at the wives as he felt all their deceit and tricks of false shame. Salomon drew close to the flames in his mind and contemplated the young lad’s exchange; he readied himself to speak, but the dragon interrupted him, offering an answer that made his insides quake.

“Your wisdom and your faith,” the dragon told Salomon as the key on its forehead fell into the ocean. Everyone on board screamed in horror and leaped into the water to grab the key as it plunged into the abyss. The dragon laughed at Solomon as the king stood alone on the deck. Delivering one final message, the creature sneered: "You either die on this ship, or you die in the deep. The fires you pray to call for their King, but my oceans will cleanse you."

An unwavering sense of pride swept through Salomon. He was to show his loyalty to the pyres and jumped into the ocean to find the key to his false faith.