The Tale of King Keret
To the ancients, kingship wasn’t merely a human institution; it was divine. We often note how the nations surrounding Israel believed their kings were appointed by the gods and even regarded as sons of the gods. The Tale of King Keret, an Ugaritic myth from the Canaanites, offers one of the clearest examples of that idea. It tells of a broken king whose dynasty has fallen, weeping until the high god El appears to him in a dream and promises to restore his line through divine favor. Keret’s authority, victories, and even his children are granted by the will of the gods, showing how the Canaanites equated royal power with divine appointment. This story illustrates the theology of kingship in the ancient Near East and illumines the cultural backdrop against which Israel’s own view of covenantal kingship emerged.
The scribe Elimelek, the Master
The Promise of a Son
The clan of Keret died out, and the royal house came to an end, though he had seven brothers, eight sons of one mother. Keret, our father, was crushed and stripped of his kingship. He found no lawful wife, no rightful spouse. He took a wife, but she left him. A second came to bear children for him, yet she too departed. A third died in her prime, a fourth perished by plague. His fifth, Resheph, was carried off, and his sixth wife was taken by the servants of the Sea-god, Yam. The seventh fell by the spear. Therefore, look how our father Keret was crushed and utterly stripped of power. The family ended, and a dynasty failed.
He entered his chamber weeping, retelling his sorrow through tears that fell like silver shekels to the ground, like scattered coins upon his bed. As he wept, sleep overcame him, and he lay down; slumber held him, and he curled up on his bed. Yet, in his dream, El descended. The father of mankind drew near and said, “Why does Keret weep, the gracious one, servant of El? What afflicts him that he sheds tears? Does he desire the kingship of the Bull El, his father, or dominion like the father of mankind?”
Keret replied, “What need have I of silver or gold, of treasure from the mine, or endless slaves, or of horses and chariots from the stables of a slave’s son? I seek only sons to carry on my name, descendants to multiply after me.”
The Bull El, his father, answered, “You have prevailed by your weeping, O Keret, by your tears, gracious one, servant of El. Wash and anoint yourself. Wash your hands to the elbow and your fingers to the shoulder. Enter the shade of the tent. Take a sheep in your right hand, a young beast in both. Take your choicest bread and the sacrificial bird. Pour wine into a silver cup and honey into a golden bowl.
“Go up to the tower and climb the wall. Lift your hands to heaven and sacrifice to the Bull El, your father. Make Baal, the son of Dagon, come down with your offering, with your game. Then come down from the roof and prepare grain for the city, wheat for Beth-Khubur, parched bread from the fifth month, and rations from the sixth.
“Gather an army and go out. Assemble a mighty army: three hundred times ten thousand, peasants without number, soldiers beyond counting. Let them go by thousands like storm clouds, by ten-thousands like early rains. None shall stay behind. The single man will leave his house; the widow will labor for hire; the sick will rise from his bed; the blind will stumble behind; the newly married man will go forth, giving up his wife to another, his beloved to a stranger. They shall cover the fields like locusts, like hoppers along the wilderness edge.
“Go a day and a second, a third and a fourth, a fifth and a sixth. Then, with the rising sun on the seventh, you shall reach great Udm, well-watered Udm. Linger outside the city and encamp near the town. Women will hurry in from the fields with wood, from the threshing floors with straw, from the wells with water, from the springs with full buckets. Stay quiet for six days, but do not loose arrows on the city or sling stones at its citadel. Then, with the rising of the sun on the seventh, King Pabil will not sleep for the rumble of his bulls, the braying of his asses, the lowing of his oxen, and the whining of his hounds. He will send messengers, saying, “To Keret, from king Pabil: Take silver and gold, treasure from the mine, and perpetual slaves; triads of horses and chariots from the stable of a slave’s son. Take the peace-offerings and flee from my house; keep far from my court. Do not besiege great Udm or well-watered Udm, the gift of El, a present from the father of mankind.”
“Send his messengers back and say: ‘What need have I of silver or gold, of treasure from the mine, or endless slaves; of horses and chariots from a slave’s stable? Give me what is not in my house. Give me the maiden Huray, the most gracious of your line. She is your firstborn, whose grace is like Anat’s, whose beauty is like Athtart’s, and whose eyes are lapis-lazuli, whose eyelids are onyx bowls, and whose body is girded with rubies. I would rest in the glance of her eyes, for El in my dream has promised, and the father of mankind in my vision has confirmed, a household to Keret and a son to the servant of El.’
Keret awoke, realizing it was a dream. The servant of El experienced a divine visitation. He washed and anointed himself, his hands to the elbow, his fingers to the shoulder. He entered the tent’s shade, took a sacrificial sheep in his hand, a young beast in both, the choicest of his bread, and the sacrificial bird. He poured wine into a silver vessel and honey into a golden one. He went up to the tower, mounted the wall, lifted his hands to heaven, and offered a sacrifice to the Bull El, his father. He brought Baal down with his offering, the son of Dagon, with his game.
Keret came down from the roof and prepared grain for the city, wheat for Beth-Khubur, parched bread from the fifth month, and rations from the sixth. A multitude gathered and went forth, a mighty army together. His host was vast—three hundred times ten thousand—moving like clouds and rain across the land. Two by two, they went out until all had followed. The single man left his home, the widow working for hire, the sick rising from his bed, the blind stumbling behind, the newly married led away, his wife given to another, his beloved to a stranger. They settled like locusts in the fields, like grasshoppers at the wilderness’ edge.
After two days’ march, and on the third at sunrise, they came to the sanctuary of Athirat of the Two Tyres and Elat of the Sidonians. There, the noble Keret vowed, “As Athirat of the Two Tyres and Elat of the Sidonians live, if I may take Huray into my house, bring the maiden into my court, I will give to the gods twice her weight in silver and thrice her weight in gold.”
They marched on through the third and fourth days. On the fifth, with the sun, they came to great Udm, well-watered Udm. They encamped outside the city. Women ran in from the fields with wood, from the threshing floors with straw, from the wells with water, from the springs with full buckets. They stayed quiet for six days. Then, with the sun on the seventh, King Pabil could not sleep for the sound of his bulls, his asses, his oxen, and his hounds. He cried to his wife and household and sent envoys, saying, “Tell the noble Keret, ‘The message of King Pabil is this: Take silver and gold, treasure from the mine, and perpetual slaves; triads of horses and chariots from the stable of a slave’s son. Take the peace-offerings and do not besiege great Udm or well-watered Udm, the gift of El and the present of the father of mankind. Keep far, O king, from my house; flee from my court.’”
The envoys came and spoke. But, the noble Keret answered, “What need have I of silver or gold, of treasure from the mine, or perpetual slaves; of horses and chariots from a slave’s stable? Give me what is not in my house: give me the maiden Huray, the most gracious of your family, your firstborn, whose grace is as Anat’s, whose fairness is as Athtart’s, whose eyes are lapis-lazuli, whose lids are onyx bowls. For El in my dream has granted this, and the father of mankind in my vision has confirmed, a household to Keret and a son to the servant of El.”
The messengers departed and returned to King Pabil, crying, “This is the message of the noble Keret, the word of the gracious one, servant of El.”
Keret’s Unfulfilled Vow
The envoys who brought Huray out to Keret said, “The people of Udm will mourn her as a heifer lows for her calf, as the sons of soldiers cry for their mothers.” Their voices faded, and the noble Keret stood in silence.
Then Baal rose in the assembly of the gods, gathered in Keret’s house, and urged El to bless the king. El took a cup in one hand and a flagon in the other and spoke his blessing, “The wife you take, O Keret, the one you bring into your house and lead into your court, shall bear you seven sons, yes, eight in all. She will bear you Yaṣṣib, who will drink the milk of Athirat and draw from the breasts of the virgin Anat, the nurses of the gods.”
El continued, “Be greatly exalted, O Keret, even among the shades of the underworld, in the assembly where Ditan gathers. Your wife shall also bear you daughters, Thitmanat and her sisters, eight in number, and I will give the blessing of the firstborn even to the youngest among them.”
The gods blessed Keret and departed, each to his own dwelling. In time, Huray bore the sons and daughters that had been promised. The years passed, and the house of Keret flourished. But Athirat remembered the vow Keret had made, and Elat remembered his pledge. Their voices rose to the heavens. “Has Keret broken his vow? Has the king forgotten his promise?” they cried. “If he does not keep it, ruin will come upon him.”
Keret heard and trembled. He set his feet upon the footstool and called to his wife. “Hear me, maiden, Huray. Prepare a great feast. Slay the fattest of the flock. Open the barrels of wine. Call my seventy dukes and my eighty barons, the lords of great Khubur, the well-watered land.”
Huray obeyed her husband. She slaughtered the fattest of the animals and opened the wine barrels. She summoned the dukes and barons, and they entered the house of Keret. One by one, they came into the throne room and the audience hall, where she stood before them. She reached out her hand to the dish, lifted the knife to the meat, and said, “I have called you to eat and drink and to make a sacrifice on behalf of Keret, your lord.”
The feast began, but Huray’s heart was heavy. She looked upon the guests and spoke again. “Eat and drink. Bless Keret, your lord. Weep for him as for the dead, with cries like the roaring of bulls. For Keret will go down to the setting of the sun. The lord of us all will sink into darkness. Yaṣṣib will rule in his place. A youth will sit upon his throne, and the wife of Keret will be driven from her house.”
She lifted her hands in lamentation and prayed, “May the kindly god look upon him with gentleness. May his heart be filled with mercy.” Then she turned once more to the guests and said, “Eat and drink again. Make a sacrifice for Keret, your lord.” Thus, they entered his chamber and lifted their voices. Their cries were like the roaring of bulls. The house shook with mourning, for the noble Keret lay stricken and near to death.
Keret’s Return
One of Keret’s sons lamented as he approached his father’s chamber, “Must I creep like a dog into my father’s room? Shall he die as other men, with mourning women singing over him? The mountains of Baal already weep for him. Is Keret not a son of El?” He entered and wept. “We rejoiced in your life, father, and in your seeming immortality. Now I grovel and bow before you like a dog. Can the children of El truly die?”
Keret answered gently, “Do not weep for me, my son. Call your sister Thitmanat. She has a tender heart and will mourn for me. Wait until evening, when the lady Shapash sets, and tell her I have prepared a sacrifice and a banquet. Meanwhile, perform the rite at the palace gate so our god may hear and come to our aid.”
The hero Elhu went to the gate, but he met Thitmanat drawing water. Seeing his gesture, she fell to the ground and wept, fearing their father was ill. Elhu turned away and said, “Keret is not sick. The king prepares a sacrifice and invites you to a banquet.”
Still troubled, Thitmanat pressed him, “How long has our father been ill?” Elhu answered, “Three months he has been ill, four that he has languished. He is near death. Prepare his grave.” She cried the same lament her brother had voiced. “Shall gods die? Shall the children of El not live?” Then she went into her father’s presence, crying aloud.
Across the land, in Baal’s house on Mount Zephon, a rite was held to bring the rains back. Servants were sent out, and soon the fields brightened. Ploughmen lifted their heads. Bread returned to the bins, wine to the skins, oil to the jars. Messengers carried the good news to Keret.
El, seeing what was happening, called to one as wise as himself, surely Baal, and said, “Summon Elsh, steward of the gods, and his wife, stewardess of the goddesses.” They climbed the tower to call the divine council. El cried out seven times, “Who among the gods will drive out Keret’s sickness?” No one answered. Then El said, “Sit, my sons. I will cast a spell and create what will banish the plague.” He took mud in his hand, fashioned it, and named her Shaʿtaqat, “She Who Drives Out.”
El sent Shaʿtaqat in secret to Keret’s city. She touched him with her wand. The illness fled from his temples, and the plague left his head. She washed him clean of sweat. Hunger returned to him, and death was shattered.
Keret called, “Hear me, maiden Huray. Slay a sheep and a fatling so I may eat.” Huray obeyed. He ate, then sat again upon his throne. Life and kingship were restored.
In the palace, Yaṣṣib brooded. He told himself that his father had failed in his duties. While bandits raided, the king turned away. He no longer judged the widow or defended the poor. Yaṣṣib resolved to go and demand the throne. He entered his father’s presence and cried out for judgment against the king’s neglect.
But, Keret answered in fury and curse, “May Horon break your head, my son. May Athtart the name-of-Baal crush your crown. May you fall at the frontier of your years with empty hands, humbled.”
In the end, Keret’s children lamented his mortality as the gods took counsel, sending Shaʿtaqat to heal him. The king was restored to life and to his throne, yet when his son Yaṣṣib challenged him, Keret answered him with a curse.
