Returned

by Kimberley Griffiths Little

  I halted on the cracked flagstones when Tijah crouched on the floor next to a woman who slept on one of the mats. She reached out a hand. “Mother,” she whispered.

  “What?” I broke off when tears slipped down the young girl’s face. “This woman can’t be your mother. She looks too old—”

  Tijah’s expression was unhappy but stoic as she bent over to kiss the woman’s hands. “My mother is Erina. She’ll have thirty-five winters next year.”

  The woman’s skin sagged, drooping along her arms, her hair gray and stringy. Sores and boils scarred her arms and legs, and her mouth appeared unusually swollen. But behind the battered body, I could tell she had once been beautiful.

  A hard knot of anger rose up my throat. I glanced about the room with its straw rushes strewn about in a feeble attempt to keep its occupants from sitting in squalor. “Where are the doctors?”

  “Physicians come once a month,” Erina told me quietly. She cleared her throat, but didn’t speak again, holding her daughters tight while she rocked them, one in each arm.

  “But why are you kept here if all these women used to be priestesses of Sariba?”

  Her weary eyes met mine. “I was one of the temple’s highest-level priestesses. I adored the Goddess—until I realized that I was being kept to manufacture children to give to the gods of Ba’al and Moloch for sacrifice.”

  “How many children have you borne?”

  “Eleven.”

  “And your babies . . . ?”

  “All of them were sacrificed to appease the gods and goddesses. I was forced to watch. And hold in my screams until I nearly bit my tongue in half.”

  “How did Tijah and Jasmine escape?”

  Tijah spoke for her. “My mother was able to sell me into servitude. Jasmine was born mute, so the High Priestess claimed she wasn’t worthy to be sacrificed. My mother was finally able to sell us both to the palace last year.”

  “You have no family that can help you, Erina?” I asked. “To live like this . . .”

  “My parents were desert people. They disowned me when I went to the temple. I never saw them again. My brothers and sisters—I have no idea what has become of them.” She sat up straighter. “I take responsibility for my life—”

  “—but you were lied to.”

  “Life’s choices are not without risk or consequences, are they?” Erina’s tone held resigned irony. “I stay now to help the other women. Some in these dark corners are dying and they need someone to talk to and make sure they receive food.”

  I admired her for not turning bitter after being abandoned by those she had once trusted. “You have two beautiful daughters who love you.”

  Erina planted a kiss against the dark hair of the girls nestled beside her. “I count my blessings every single day.”

  Her words reminded me of my mother. I’d heard Rebekah say the same thing about me and my sister. Watching Erina with her daughters, my throat ached with loneliness. My mother would never meet Kadesh. Never see me married. So many times, I’d wished she could rescue me, heal the hurts, banish the evil that had fallen on our fractured tribe. She would have mended the rifts that had come between our family and never allowed Horeb to hurt me.

  I knelt to take Erina’s hand. “The temples have many dirty secrets, don’t they?”

  “I’m sorry to burden you, my lady.”

  “Never,” I said. “I know the truth now, and the truth will set you all free one day. As Prince Kadesh’s future queen, I promise you that.”

  A flicker of light filtered through the grated bars along the upper windows.

  “Dawn breaks,” I said. “We need to get inside before servants begin serving breakfast. I want you to come back with us to the palace, Erina. You need medical care.”

  Erina instantly protested. “I would never taint the palace of King Kadesh—or you, his queen.”

  “I’m not his queen yet,” I said dryly.

  “My daughters tell me he’s madly in love with you.”

  I tried to shake off the heat rising up my neck. “You can’t stay here.”

  “Oh, my dear, I’ve become a surrogate mother to too many girls. Besides, war is coming.”

  I flicked my chin upward. “You know what’s happening, then?”

  “I suspected things were changing when our old High Priestess suddenly died and Aliyah took her place. I knew for certain when the Egyptian magicians appeared a few months ago. News of a fierce army arriving on the same day as King Ephrem’s death was too coincidental. Already there are priestesses packing to leave.”

  “Where can they go?”

  “The hills,” Erina said with pursed lips. “Our mountains of Qara.”

  “But Horeb and his armies are heading to the foothills between the frankincense groves and the mountains. Anybody who goes in that direction will be captured and killed.”

  Erina gave me a tight grimace. “But we know where the caves are.”

  I didn’t want to argue with her, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if Horeb had already camped a platoon inside the frankincense groves to prevent citizens from fleeing. We were surrounded by Horeb, the Assyrians, and Maachathites. There was little between them and the city. In every direction north of the mountains lay an infinite ocean of empty sands. It was impossible to escape using the beaches either. Kadesh had explained that except for Sariba, the entire coastline was cut off by towering cliffs that dove straight down into the surf.

  We were trapped by geography and an army of bloodthirsty warriors.

  Erina broke off eye contact. Her fingers tore at the broken threads of her dirty dress.

  “Tell me the gossip, Erina. For the city’s sake.”

  She bit at her lips. “People are saying that you brought death to Sariba. That if you hadn’t bewitched our prince, we would still be safe and three armies would not be at our doorstep waiting to slaughter us.”

  “I don’t blame them for being angry. But know this,” I told her, gripping her hand, “I will fight for all of you in this beautiful land. We will have the wits and courage we need to conquer this enemy.”

  “Please keep my children safe, that’s all I ask.” Waking voices murmured from the room parallel to the one we were sitting in. The sound of a door opening. “Go! Don’t be caught here,” Erina cried softly.

  Tijah clung to her mother, weeping large, silent tears while Jasmine slipped under her mother’s wool blanket and curled under her shoulder. Before I could blink again, the girl’s eyes closed and she was breathing deeply.

  “Leave Jasmine,” Erina said. “I’ll bring her to you in the gardens when you’re ready to return to the palace.”

  “We’ll be gone on our horses within the hour,” Tijah said, turning toward me. “Come, let’s go.”

  My pulse throbbed with apprehension while Tijah, ever stalwart, led me out of the dismal gloom of the forgotten women’s quarters.

  5

  We departed the same way we’d arrived, then entered the main temple through another outside door, finding ourselves in a windowless stone corridor. Wall sconces flickered, heat searing my cheeks.

  Slipping through a bronze-plated door, we found ourselves in a marbled breezeway next. An odd gray color washed overhead, and I stared at the open sky above a columned portico.

  “This way,” Tijah said.

  We darted down the smooth, polished floor, scurrying into an alcove when Tijah spotted a servant carrying a basket through a side door. The girl’s hair was pinned up into a blue scarf, and she was yawning loudly.

  Our skirts swept across the floor with hardly a sound. Quickly, we passed behind two guards talking before a window, gesturing toward the Qara Mountains. Their shoulders were stiff, fists on their swords and they were discussing Horeb’s army potentially moving to the foothills where they could hide among the crevices and boulders and launch their attacks.

  Two more doorways and a final staircase led to the floor above us where we walked a lengthy hallway until we reached the pr
iestesses’ quarters.

  “This is it.” Tijah’s eyes were enormous in her pale face, and her lips trembled.

  My heart banged against my ribs, I was so anxious to see my sister, but I pressed a hand to her cheek. “Everything will be all right, my sweet girl.”

  She soaked in my words, hopeful, but still afraid. “Hurry. We can’t stay long.”

  I nodded and pushed open the door. A thousand butterflies fought to fly from my belly.

  When the door opened, I was surprised to see the priestesses’ large suites of rooms silent and empty. The beds were messy and rumpled, not smooth and pristine. No maids had come in to clean. The dressing rooms were a jumble, too. Clothes flung everywhere. Sandals tossed about the floors. Jars of lotions and rouge left open, a brush fallen to the floor. Trailing ribbons, a pile of earrings pawed through.

  “The priestesses never rise before noon,” Tijah said in a small voice.

  “The temple hasn’t been evacuated, has it?”

  Tijah’s eyes roamed the room, a frown forming between her eyes. “I have no idea.”

  I rubbed my hands together against the early-morning chill coming through the fluttering curtains. “If the temple had evacuated, we would have encountered the citizenry coming down through the forest to the safety of the city—but we saw no one on the paths. Where would they have gone?”

  Tijah trailed a hand along one of the bureaus as though the furniture could give up its secrets.

  An idea flashed through my mind. “They’re still here, and when we find the priestesses, we’ll find Leila, too.”

  We retraced our steps down the staircase. At the bottom, I glanced into the dusky hallways. Through a window at the far end of the hall, a shot of gold on the horizon blinded me. The sun was rising faster.

  “Show me where the halls and meeting rooms are located,” I said.

  Tijah beckoned me down two sets of stairs and then we passed through the massive gathering hall. A gigantic statue of the Sariba Goddess watched our every move.

  Memories flooded me of the time I had danced with all the emotions from my heart—and nearly gave my body and soul to the Goddess of Ashtoreth. I could still conjure up the heady scent of roses, wine splashing in goblets, cinnamon breads, and the thrill of sensuality running like fingertips across my skin.

  We headed toward the double doors to exit, and I paused. Something pulsed underneath my feet. The pounding of drums was low and throbbing. “Where’s that sound coming from?”

  The two of us turned in a circle while the floor shook beneath our feet. A length of draperies hung along the far wall and behind them was another set of carved doors, slightly ajar.

  I peeked through the narrow opening, Tijah breathing on my neck.

  The room was a smaller version of the great hall. Some type of ceremonial room with a life-size statue of the Goddess of Sariba front and center. She was, perhaps, even more beautiful than Ashtoreth. Large black eyes painted with kohl. A generous pomegranate-red mouth with perfectly shaped lips and high cheekbones. Flowing marble robes adorned her body, matching the length of sculpted black hair that fell below her waist and then melded into her gown—a gown carved with blooms of white lotus, scarlet miniature roses, and sprays of pale pink orchids.

  The Goddess’s face lifted to mine, as though the statue was animated by an actual soul. As though she sensed I was staring at her through the crack in the door. I sucked in air and tried not to meet the Goddess’s eye.

  While I watched, four and twenty priestesses fell down before the Goddess, holding golden vials of spicy oils in their open palms and raising them to the Goddess in adoration.

  On either side of the statue, two altars had been erected. Behind the altars stood ten bald Egyptian magicians. The paint on their faces formed the shape of magical hieroglyphs. They wore leather aprons tied at their waists, and leopard skins draped their shoulders.

  Their hands held up scepters crafted from polished frankincense timber and overlaid with gold and onyx, which gleamed in the ceremonial room. Someone must have fashioned them right here in Sariba.

  A low chant accompanied the thump of three drummers sitting cross-legged in the corner. Their heads lolled to the side, eyes closed, as though transfixed by the music.

  In fact, the entire room of priestesses and Egyptian men appeared to be in a trance. Candles of frankincense burned, smoke spiraling upward.

  One by one, the priestesses came forward to the altar and took turns drinking from a golden goblet administered by one of the Egyptian priests of magicians.

  My eyes flitted about the room, but I couldn’t see Aliyah anywhere—or the Egyptian priest who had stared at me when our company had ridden into Sariba along the main thoroughfare after the long desert journey.

  Their absence was unnerving and my fingers twitched with apprehension.

  When voices came from behind us, I crouched among the draperies next to Tijah, putting a finger to my lips to make sure she didn’t speak.

  I sucked in my breath when Aliyah suddenly spoke in the alcove next to us.

  “Will the spiritual transfer of the Goddess entering my body work, Heru?” the High Priestess asked in low tones.

  “Egyptian magic always works, my love,” a male voice replied. Chills ran down my neck. It had to be the High Priest of Egypt, that man with the menacing black eyes that had stared at me from the crowds the first time I entered the city. “When I speak the words of a spell or chant, they become real. Whatever is written—whatever is said—the gods make it so.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on,” Aliyah said with a note of pleasure. “After the ceremony the priestesses will believe that I am the Goddess incarnate. Whatever I say will be truth and fully obeyed.”

  “The Goddess is on your side. Egypt and the Priests of Ba’al are also with you. I’ve always wanted to see a mortal woman rise to divinity in this world. I’m honored that you chose me to be the priest to make it happen.”

  “You’re so good to me, Heru. I knew you were the priest who could make this happen. After tonight, I will be the most powerful figure in Sariba. Prince Kadesh will have no choice but to honor me and make me his wife. The people of Sariba will demand me not only as their Goddess but as their queen.”

  I gripped Tijah’s hand so tightly she whimpered. I mouthed an apology and pulled her closer.

  “And isn’t Prince Kadesh soon to be crowned, my lady?” Heru asked.

  “Later this afternoon. Horeb’s mercenary soldiers destroying that wedding last night . . . King Ephrem conveniently dying—both were strokes of luck.”

  “The Goddess provides,” Heru said smoothly.

  “Once her soul resides next to mine, the power of the royal family will also be mine,” Aliyah continued. “There will be no stopping us from ruling this land. Our decrees will be carried into every corner of the earth, beginning with the kingdoms along the Red Sea and then east into Babylon. King Hammurabi will never know what happened.”

  “Don’t forget that Egypt is already yours. I’m vizier to a weak Pharaoh who allows me to do most of the ruling since the Hittites have taken control of the government. If you help him keep his throne, Pharaoh will gladly let our gold and riches flow to Sariba. The Goddess of Sariba will be High Priestess and Mistress over every minor goddess, from Isis to Ashtoreth and Bast.”

  “Very good,” Aliyah said in a husky voice. “Are you ready?”

  “I have one last question,” the man asked. “There is one powerful kingdom that could potentially take you down. The kingdom of Sheba and the city of Sa’ba.”

  Aliyah’s laugh was low and sensual. “My sister is queen of Sa’ba, and I am its rightful heir. She will be taken down easily, have no worries. She’ll fall into line once I have Prince—rather, King Kadesh and Egypt under my thumb.”

  The Egyptian High Priest gave a grunt of admiration and then kissed her hand before departing the alcove.

  Slowly, I let out my breath, my thoughts colliding.

  A m
oment later, the Egyptian High Priest and Aliyah stood before the company of priestesses. The woman wore a dazzling red dress that draped her curves. Gold and silver bangles adorned her arms and neck. Elaborate earrings of onyx and rubies hung from her lobes. Her hair was dressed in magnificent curls streaming about her face, giving her an appearance that was both youthful and full of wisdom.

  My fist clutched at the edge of the door when I noticed that Aliyah wore a peculiar tattoo on her forehead, a symbol created with whorls and hexagons.

  A chill ran through me.

  The temple priestesses formed a circle around the High Priestess when she stood before the altar where the magicians were chanting. With a sinking heart, I saw that every single girl had the same exotic symbol tattooed on her forehead.

  “The seal of the Goddess,” I whispered in sudden recognition. The seal was indicative of a significant ceremony. As an outsider, I had never witnessed any special ceremonies at the Temple of Ashtoreth in Tadmur, but Leila had once spoken of her initiation ceremony.

  I glanced behind me and found Tijah shrunk into herself, wedged into the silken drapes that wrapped the corner of the great hall where we were hiding.

  The ten priests dipped the end of their bronzed staves to each temple priestess’s forehead. A peculiar white light blazed for an instant and then sizzled out.

  Craning my neck, I searched for any sign of Leila. She had to be here, but the girls were dressed so alike, their hair unbound and draped about their hips. The noise of their bangles and ankle bracelets made a rattling sound that unnerved and distracted me.

  My heart was in my throat when I spotted her. “Oh, Leila,” I whispered, fighting against the urge to rush out from hiding. That would only jeopardize us both, but I ached to knock her over with an embrace.

  Before I could take my next breath, my sister was kneeling before Heru. The Egyptian High Priest pressed his falcon-headed staff into Leila’s forehead. A spark of light shot out and her body became languid, her limbs moving as though she were dancing in water. She whirled slowly on her toes, eyes closed. The other girls began to imitate her, and the room floated with dancing girls. Sheer silk dresses whirled about their legs, their bare arms glowing above their heads in the candlelight.