Returned

by Kimberley Griffiths Little

  I shoved the dagger back into its leather strap and tugged at Tijah’s arm to keep her close. Moving along the wall behind the altar, I didn’t take my eyes off Aliyah as she called down the powers of her Goddess to give victory to her and my enemy, Horeb, King of the Nephish.

  Planting our feet into position, Tijah and I shoved hard at the altar. The candles fell, sizzling in their golden tapers. Hot wax splattered across the long length of Aliyah’s dress as the table crashed behind her, sending food and goblets of wine splattering.

  The prostrate girls rose in confusion.

  Tijah breathed out. “We’re in trouble, my lady.”

  I grabbed her hand and raced through the doors, slamming them behind us while Aliyah screamed, “Guards, guards!”

  Passing a smaller table outside the door of the ceremonial room, I kicked it over. A cluster of alabaster lamps cracked into a hundred splinters. Shattered pieces of ceramic urns scattered across the marble floors.

  The chaos would slow them for only a few moments, but I was pleased at Aliyah’s furious screams. I wished I could rescue Sahmril, but I needed my own small army for that task. I only had a few days to figure out how to stop the sacrificial ritual. The full moon and midsummer’s eve was three days from now. “I have time,” I repeated aloud to comfort myself.

  I should have left the temple premises without delay, but I wasn’t going to leave without my marriage contract, which Aliyah had stolen yesterday during the chaos of my wedding attack.

  Running past the Sariba Goddess’s sneering, empty stare in the great hall, Tijah and I kept behind the draperies along the perimeter, then slipped out the farthest exit from the inner sanctum.

  I stifled a cough, smoke from the incense burning my throat.

  “My lady.” Tijah’s eyes were wide with terror. “I don’t want to go to prison.”

  I squeezed her hand. “Do you trust me?”

  She nodded, biting her lip.

  “Do you know where the private rooms of Aliyah are located?”

  Her eyes darted about, the urge to run strong, but the corridors would soon be overrun with temple guards. At least I was dressed as a priestess. That would help keep us incognito for a little while longer.

  “We have to do this now,” I urged her. “Aliyah has aligned herself with our enemies and will rule Sariba with an oppressive fist. I won’t let her steal proof of my marriage to Kadesh. She plans to get rid of me and marry Kadesh herself.”

  7

  We walked quickly down a parallel hallway, passing a spiral staircase. “Down below are the kitchens and servants’ quarters,” Tijah said, walking faster. Our breathing grew labored when we reached the next intersection of hallways and flew up two flights of stairs.

  “Aliyah will be busy directing her guards to find us,” I said. “She’d never think I’d go to her private rooms and search for my wedding contract.”

  We reached a landing three stories up. Through the windows, I could look down on the grounds of the temple. Early morning dew sparkled along the petals of the flower beds. Small fountains and emerald lawns wound along the hillside of the temple mount.

  Aliyah’s wing faced north. This morning the Qara Mountains appeared fierce. Gloomy with a bank of low-hanging clouds.

  Soon our enemy’s armies would be camped in its shadows. It was easy to imagine Aliyah standing here waving a red flag to tell Horeb it was time to march on the city.

  “This part of the wing overlooks the roof of the story below,” I said. “It’s not as far as I thought. I find myself wanting a coil of rope.”

  “Rope?” Tijah echoed. “To climb down along the walls to the ground?”

  I tried to keep myself from screaming with trepidation. “Only in case of an emergency.”

  “There might be maids inside,” Tijah warned as we crept toward Aliyah’s suite.

  “I suspect that for her privacy, Aliyah’s personal maids would have their own chambers. Probably there,” I added, pointing to a door farther down the stone hall.

  The latch swung open easily. Before stepping inside, I waited a heartbeat, but nobody came roaring out at us.

  In a single step, I crossed the threshold, my dagger at the ready, but the luxurious suite was empty. Couches, chairs, and tables were laid out in attractive arrangements in a large, high-ceilinged room. Vases of roses and orchids dotted the inlaid tables, soaking the air with a heady perfume.

  In the center of the far wall was a sumptuous downy bed with masses of pillows and bolsters. Sheer emerald draperies fell to the floor from a canopy railing. The swooping curtains appeared as billowing waves of green sea foam.

  I ran across the burgundy carpets to the bathing room. Skylights in the high ceilings revealed that it was empty as well.

  “I’ll search the bedroom, you search the bathing room,” I ordered Tijah. “Aliyah wouldn’t put the marriage contract in the public offices where someone could stumble across it. The safest place would be in her personal suite.”

  Any commotion downstairs was masked by distance. Still, my heart pulsed in my ears and my hands shook when I opened each drawer in the wardrobes and bureaus.

  Aliyah had exquisite taste. Her clothes were created from the finest silks, chiffons, and satins. Her dressmaker was extremely talented. The embroidery, jewels, and filigree had been stunningly sewn.

  But the new Goddess of Sariba hadn’t hidden any papers in her lingerie. I should have begun my search in her desk where thick stacks of papyrus and thin stone tablets included contracts, invoices, and deeds. I tried not to upend anything and make a mess, but there was no sign of the contract here either.

  “I know it was you I saw after Chemish was shot,” I mumbled as I whirled about the room, panic rising. Time was running out.

  “I think I found it,” Tijah screamed, bursting from the bathing area holding slightly crumpled papers. I couldn’t read all the words of the Akkadian language, but I recognized the script with my name and Kadesh’s. The empty lines where my father, Pharez of Nephish, and King Ephrem of Sariba were to have signed before Chemish fell by the deadly arrow of the invaders. I recognized the beautiful black ink. The gold seals. And, at the bottom, the places where our witnesses had marked their names, Asher and Chemish.

  Clasping the marriage contract to my chest, I embraced Tijah.

  “They were in a secret drawer of the bathing wardrobe.”

  “You clever girl,” I told her. “How did you even think to search for a secret drawer?”

  “Lady Naomi’s maid who trained me showed me. Many high-ranking ladies keep their jewels and personal treasures in hidden drawers.”

  “You are a clever girl,” a female voice spoke behind us. “Perhaps you’d like to come to the temple and work for me. I can pay more than the royal family grudgingly doles out.”

  Aliyah stood at the open double doors to the suite, her hands on the bronze handles, arms spread wide.

  I clutched the marriage contract tighter and slunk sideways so she couldn’t see me sticking my dagger into the belt of my dress for easier access.

  “On second thought,” Aliyah went on, “there’s no need for you to move to the temple. When I become queen I’ll be moving into the palace and I’ll have my pick of any girls I want to attend me.”

  “I’d rather live with my mother in the temple dungeons.”

  Aliyah arched an eyebrow. “Oh, so you’re that girl. Erina’s daughter. The one she saved from being the sacrificial lamb. Your younger sister—oh, what was her name, I’ve forgotten. She was first chosen to be sacrificed to the Goddess upon her birth. But then we learned that she was born flawed.”

  Tijah’s face grew ashen, and Aliyah smiled, pleased that she’d wounded the girl.

  I clenched Tijah’s hand in mine to keep her from blurting out anything that would get her thrown into the temple dungeons.

  Aliyah closed the outer suite doors and poured herself a glass of wine from a decanter on a table near the fire hearth.

  “The cere
mony with the Egyptian priests was merely to convince everyone that you’re the most powerful woman in the world,” I told her. “How can anyone argue with a goddess, right?”

  “I’m glad you appreciate it.”

  “You misunderstand me. I can see through the charade. You standing on top of the altar addressing the audience as the Goddess herself—”

  “Are you saying Egypt’s magic is a sham?” Aliyah hissed at me.

  “I don’t know anything about Egypt other than the golden gods they prostrate to. What I do know is that you crave power so much you don’t care how you get it.”

  “You don’t know me at all,” Aliyah said coldly, throwing her wine glass into the fire hearth with a crash of tinkling glass.

  She was clearly irritated. How close to the truth was I? “You think you have Sariba’s hearts and minds and souls, but you don’t,” I said quietly. “And this war with Horeb will prove it.”

  Tijah glanced at me, fear in her eyes. Perhaps I was going too far.

  “I’m tired of listening to your judgments and pronouncements, Jayden of Nephish,” Aliyah said. “Be warned. I have particular plans to obliterate you. And I will carry them out with the utmost delight.”

  I was done here, and we had to leave. I twisted to head for the door, but before I knew it, Aliyah wrenched my shoulder and spun me around. The marriage contract slipped out from under my arm. I floundered for it, grabbing at empty air.

  Aliyah snatched up the contract and stepped out of reach.

  “Those papers belong to me!” I cried.

  “You sneaked into my room and stole them from me.”

  “I saw you behind the dais last night when King Ephrem died. The marriage papers disappeared into your hands. Your name isn’t on the contract, so it does you no good. Besides, Uncle Ephrem is dead, so he can’t even sign it.” I was bluffing because Kadesh had told me that Uncle Josiah would sign in his stead when we were able to plan a new wedding.

  “He was an old man and had been ill for some time.”

  “How fortuitous for you that he died at my wedding.”

  “It was. Quite. But make no mistake. I will have my own marriage contract drawn up for my union with Kadesh.” Aliyah turned toward the desk, opening one of the drawers.

  “If you’re so sure of that then give me mine. They’re worthless to you. Unless you plan to erase my name and add in yours.”

  “With your marriage papers in my possession it will be more difficult for you and Kadesh to forge the missing signatures and pretend you did marry last night. This contract is incomplete and unbinding. And it will stay that way.” A slender candle appeared in her hand. Before I realized what she was planning, Aliyah reached her hand up to the wall sconce above her head and lit the candle in the small flame.

  With a shout, I lunged for her, but she had already put the candle to the papers. Fanning them quickly, she strode to the fireplace. The pages turned black, shriveling instantly. Aliyah tossed them into the glowing embers left over from the morning’s fire.

  I pressed a hand to my chest, my heart splintering into pieces. Now there was nothing. No proof. No royal insignia or stamp.

  I’d been relegated to the status of a girl unworthy to capture Prince Kadesh.

  “Oh, my lady,” Tijah said, throwing a look of hatred toward Aliyah as she warned, “Temple guards will swarm this suite in moments and Aliyah will order our punishment.”

  I sucked in my emotions while Aliyah stood imperiously above me. “You don’t have to worry about Kadesh’s love or devotion any longer. The people won’t blame you either. I will rally them to the Goddess, and to safety and peace.”

  Distant voices came through the doors of the suite and Aliyah gave a laugh. “My temple guards will meet you on the staircase if you attempt to go elsewhere in the temple. Return in three days for the midsummer night’s eve ceremonies. I have so many pleasurable entertainments scheduled. You’ll receive a personal invitation, of course.”

  “And I’ll burn it with pleasure,” I said, edging to the door, one hand on the hilt of my dagger.

  Tijah called out from the hall beyond the door. “My lady! Guards, I can hear them below!”

  I turned on my heel and followed her. The stone floors of the upper corridor were hung with paintings and draperies and wall sconces—and statues of the Goddess. I peered down the winding staircase, hanging on to the balustrade.

  Marching feet came up from below, including the clanging sound of bronze swords. I hoped it was more threat than reality because Aliyah wasn’t following us or screaming down the stairwell to her guards. She closed the double doors to her suite, and a bar locked into place. The sound was ominous. What other trickery would the woman use to torture me?

  How would the guards even know we’d trespassed into her private suite anyway? She’d had no time to tell them. I took a deep breath, my thoughts racing to find a way out of here.

  “Is there another way off the top floor?” I asked Tijah, relying on her knowledge of the temple floor plan.

  She shook her head, eyes filled with alarm.

  Returning to the corridor window, I saw the same flagstone patios and fountains three stories below. The walls of the temple were smooth. No balconies or window ledges to use for climbing.

  “There’s got to be another way down,” I said. “What if there was a fire . . . what’s at the end of this hallway?” Grabbing Tijah’s hand, I pulled her along the hallway, turning to the right as the corridor wrapped around the temple’s perimeter and ended at a door.

  I pushed against it, and we hurried through, folding over the latch to bar the door against the guards who were trying to find us. Then I turned to marvel at the sight before me.

  A private garden had been created on top of the temple’s roof. Palm trees swayed along the perimeter. Life-size statues of the Goddess stood at each corner. A fountain sprayed, and the air was perfumed by beds of azaleas and exotic orchids along the brick pathways. Cozy furniture sat in groupings under pergolas for shade.

  “It’s beautiful,” Tijah whispered, transfixed.

  Racing to the railing, I reeled at the magnificent view. The rooftop garden sat on the southeast corner of the temple. I gazed at the ocean cliffs and the expanse of the city below the sloping hills.

  Running to the northwest corner next, I spotted the groves of frankincense orchards, banked against the valley of the Qara Mountains.

  I shaded my eyes, staggering at the sight of so many newly erected black-and-white tents in the foothills of those mountains.

  My heart was in my throat. Too many tents to count. At least a thousand camels.

  Hundreds of horses.

  Horeb’s armies camped and preparing for battle.

  8

  A crushing sense of doom weighed on my shoulders. The armies we’d seen last night on the desert at midnight had arrived in the Sariba kingdom, and they were real.

  The boy I’d been betrothed to since birth had followed me, nipping at our heels like a hunting dog, hounding me. Horeb was here to fight until he sat on Kadesh’s throne.

  Emotion bit behind my eyes. I’d run away to the Temple of Ashtoreth and then to Mari with Kadesh to get away from Horeb’s wrath and beatings. Banished from my tribe and homelands after he framed me for the murder of his father, King Abimelech, and my father’s dearest friend.

  But it wasn’t enough for him. I knew the truth, and he was going to force me to become his wife solely to legitimize his place on the Nephish throne—a seat he’d coveted since he’d left his older brother to die after a raid.

  With every ruthless act, Horeb had grown more powerful and more obsessed. He thought that marrying me—even after he’d tried to rape me—would bring stability to the tribe and my love. But he didn’t know me at all. I’d never cared for wealth or jewels. I only wanted love from a good man—my family and peace.

  During the long journey to Sariba, knowing Horeb was just beyond each horizon, I’d come to the conclusion that he was mad. H
is veins coursed with bloodthirsty ambition. His vengeance merely stoked his power. And now, so many innocent people would pay the ultimate price.

  “My lady,” Tijah said with a light touch on my arm.

  I shook myself out of my reverie and blinked away the fear.

  Shaking, I turned my back on the sight of those three foreign armies. My gaze swept over the city, deceptively peaceful from this higher view.

  How were we going to get down from the roof of the temple? I’d been joking about rope earlier, but now I wished I’d actually planned for it.

  My body thrummed with nerves. Down on the walkway below, a shadow came around a corner. I shrank down to a crouch. The figure was a young man, but not in guard uniform. Definitely not Egyptian. A priest of Ba’al? A gardener?

  While I watched, the man ducked behind a half wall, avoiding the sudden appearance of a temple worker as though trying to remain incognito. I stared hard. The way he moved was familiar, his step quick, limbs slender.

  “Tijah!” I hissed. “It’s Asher!”

  The curving pathways emptied and all quieted again.

  “He can help us,” Tijah said jubilantly. “I have an idea.” She scurried to a rose bush and yanked at one of the branches covered in scarlet blooms, snapping it in half.

  I scanned the temple grounds while Tijah tossed the branch over the parapet. The roses dropped to the walkway at the same moment Asher’s foot came down on them. He glanced up at the sky, a frown lining his brow while I leaned over the parapet.

  His eyes widened. “I’ve walked the perimeter three times to find you!”

  “You should be at the palace.”

  “You should be at the palace. Come down.”

  “All exits are blocked! Aliyah’s guards will be here any moment!”

  Asher loosened a shaft of rope left near some gardening tools. “If I throw this up to you, can you secure it?”

  “Oh, my lady,” Tijah breathed. “I can’t climb down that far! You’re strong from riding camels your whole life.”