Since the day had been so hot, I opened my window to allow a nice breeze to blow as I kneaded the dough. I had managed to catch a few locusts to mix with the flour to give the bread a little flavor. It was too hot to bake bread, but I had to eat something besides fruit.

I left the dough to rise, but I was still too hot. Perhaps I would feel better if I went wading in the stream. No, it was too hot to walk so far. Maybe I should just draw some water from the well.

After all, it was time for my ceremonial washing. My week of impurity had just ended. I would take a cool bath and feel cooler and end my time of uncleanliness at the same time.

I drew enough cool water to fill a small bowl and dipped a cloth. I first wiped the sweat from my brow, welcoming the gentle relief on my face. Then I moved the cloth to my neck, enjoying the feeling of the wind cooling the droplets of water on my skin. My hands and arms were next, and after them, my feet and legs. Afterwards, I washed under my robe, but I was careful not to expose my body while doing so.

Although I felt much better, I was unable to push aside the thought of wading, so that evening, I walked to the stream. I sat on the bank and plunged my feet into the water, gently kicking. The sinking sun was turning the stream lovely shades of bright pink and amber.

What if I were to wade deeper, only to my knees? Surely it would do no harm. After all, the water was so refreshing. Gingerly feeling my way over the rocks with my bare feet, I walked closer to the middle of the stream, being careful to hold up the hem of my robe slightly.

If I could just feel it on my hands…! I carefully held my hem between my knees and bent to scoop up a handful of water, splashing it on my face. I repeated the procedure to dampen my arms.

Seeing that the hour grew later, I returned home. The house was too quiet without Uriyah. I wished I still carried his child so I could fill my time by preparing our home for our coming baby. Tears filled my eyes as I glanced out the window, noting the olive tree where my husband had buried our child.

The following evening, I was surprised to see two men from the palace at my door. I was flustered, for I had never expected company of such high status. I had nothing prepared for my visitors.

"Are you Bathsheva, the wife of Uriyah the Hittite?" one asked before I could greet them properly.

"I am," I responded. "How may I be of service?"

"The king requests your presence at once."

I wrung my hands as I accompanied them to the palace. What did King Dawid want with me? I was certain I had broken no laws.

The palace was even grander than I had ever imagined. There were imported carpets on the floors and stunning murals on the walls, and translucent curtains graced the windows. Even inside the palace, I could hear the fountains that stood in the gardens. I felt small, like a minnow swallowed by a much larger fish.

One of the men opened a door and announced, "Here she is, Your Majesty."

I tentatively crossed the threshold and realized I was in a bedroom. The bed, which was well over twice the size of my own, had been made with silken blankets. Beside the bed was a golden stand with a bowl of fruit and an empty goblet of what must have been strong wine.

A middle-aged man sat up in the bed. His hair was already beginning to show the first signs of silver, and although I could tell his face had once been handsome, age had caused him to look a bit haggard.

"Bathsheva!" he exclaimed jubilantly.

I bowed. "How may I be of service to my king?"

He rose from the bed, and to my horror, I realized he was wearing only a loincloth. His formally toned muscles were already beginning to sag with age, for the king was old enough to be my grandfather.

"I am glad you wish to be of service!" King Dawid slapped my hip as hard as he could.

"Your Majesty, I am a married woman!" I protested.

"I have a gift for you." He kissed my neck. "If you offer your body to me willingly, I will not take you by force."

I gasped in horror and turned to flee, but the king firmly held my wrist.

"Your husband is of service in the battlefield," he stated. "Tonight you will be of service in the bedchamber." King Dawid squeezed my chest with his other hand. "I want you, Bathsheva, and I always get what I want."

"Let not my lord sin against Elohim!" I protested as the king dragged me to his bed. "Your Majesty has wives and concubines, and if these are not enough, are there no widows or maidens or harlots? Let not the king defile himself with another man's wife!"

King Dawid seized me and lay me on the bed. "You're beautiful! You're spirited! And you're not even past your eighteenth year!"

Despite my struggle, he pressed his lips against mine, moaning with pleasure as we kissed. When he finally paused for breath, he continued kissing me down my neck all the way to my heart. Pinning my arms with his hands, he forced my feet apart.

I screamed and cried as the king violated me. I felt dirty, and I wanted nothing more than to scrub away the filth of what he was doing. What would I tell my husband?

"Again!" King Dawid exclaimed, already beginning to disrobe me. "This time, make me feel like your husband!"

I thought the sooner I gave him what I wanted, the sooner he would allow me to return home, but after he overpowered me again, the king declared that he would hold me all night.

Despite the grandeur of my beauteous surroundings, I was unable to sleep. I belonged to Uriyah. No other man should have his arm around me, especially when I wore no garments! Even in his sleep, the king caressed my body.

When morning came at last, King Dawid seemed pleased with himself. "You may go. I'll see your husband well rewarded for sharing his finest possession with the king."

What about me? What reward could the king possibly give me to atone for the fact that he had forced me to be unfaithful to my husband? When had I become a possession to be shared among men rather than a dutiful wife?

I never wanted to see King Dawid again. I hoped he would be slain in battle. Why was he at the palace now? Shouldn't he be fighting with his army?

When I returned home, I threw myself onto my bed and wept. Then I heated some water, made certain my door and windows were securely fastened, and scrubbed myself. Little did I realize the damage had already been done: I had conceived the king's child.