“We’ll arrange for an execution, Jayden,” Kadesh said, reaching out to press his hand against mine in reassurance.
“The mercenary soldiers deserve death for the death and destruction they wrought at the king’s own wedding last night,” I said, my voice rising. “The dozen from last night are dead—by Sariba’s soldiers—except for one. I almost thrust my knife through Basim, their leader’s throat, when he lay gasping and bleeding. Now I’m glad I didn’t. I think there’s a way they can help us. Will you let me go to the prison block and talk to him?”
Kadesh stared at me, bewildered. “The prison? Absolutely not. It’s no place for my betrothed—or queen.”
I gazed back at him, not backing down. The more I thought about it, the more perfect the idea became.
Kadesh shook his head, grunting with frustration. “From the expression on your face, I won’t be able to talk you out of this. But I will not allow you into a prison cell to speak with a known killer and our enemy—sent by Horeb himself to assassinate us.”
“Then come with me. Let me do the talking, Kadesh, but I want you there as witness.”
Kadesh let out a laugh, and even General Naham quirked his mouth into a smile. “Oh, you’ll allow me to join you?”
“Exactly so, my love. I’ll call on you in the morning when I’m dressed. Don’t be late.”
Kadesh shook his head. “You are impossible,” he said softly.
Jonah rose to leave. “I await word about my next spying rendezvous in the hills, Your Majesty.”
“We’ll meet again with the captains tomorrow morning. At the moment, I have a letter to write to Horeb demanding his surrender. It will be delivered at dawn.”
We were a silent group as we entered the palace corridors hours after midnight. All of us were exhausted from the hours of riding and walking, including the stress of nearly being caught.
Images of Horeb’s sprawling camp flooded my mind. So many men. So many weapons. So much determined hatred.
General Naham followed Kadesh down to the royal offices.
“Come with us, too, Jayden,” Kadesh said, taking my hand. I sank into one of the couches trying not to yawn.
One of the king’s manservants rose at the sound of our voices and hurried in from his bed. “My lord, is everything well?”
Kadesh pushed his hands against the edge of the desk wearily. “I need a scribe. And quickly.”
The man had begun to open his mouth and then shut it. “Very good, Your Majesty.” He disappeared into the hall and the sound of hushed voices and scurrying feet met my ears while I lay on the couch in a half stupor.
“You need rest,” Kadesh said. “I apologize for keeping you up. The trek by horse and foot was enough to exhaust all of us. After the past two days of wedding attacks and temple ceremonies and seeing your sisters, I can only imagine that you must be dead on your feet.”
“Nearly,” I said, closing my burning eyes.
“Please stay with me until this is on its way.”
“Of course, Kadesh.” He’d had less sleep than I’d had, and it was showing in his posture, the disheveled hair, and in the rumpled state of his clothing.
A moment later, a palace scribe was at the door.
“Come,” Kadesh called out to the young man with his bag of tools and polished slate. “The night is racing onward.”
The scribe settled himself cross-legged on the floor and spread out his writing tablets, powders, and stencils on top of a large square of white linen.
“To Horeb, King of the Nephish,” Kadesh began.
The room went silent as both Kadesh and I realized that this would be the first communication between the two men in many months. Not since Horeb had tried to murder Kadesh.
General Naham cleared his throat, witness and confidante if Kadesh needed him.
“Keep writing,” Kadesh said firmly. The young man bent to his work, dabbing at the damp ink and licking his stylus when needed.
“We know you are camped in our lands. Lands that do not belong to you and will never belong to you. We’ve seen your numbers and your weaknesses. To fight only means death. There are plans already in action that will make sure of your demise. I advise that you do not risk it. Surrender to me so that your men may live to go home to their wives and children.”
Kadesh reread the document and then said, “Sign it, King Kadesh of Sariba.”
When he finished, my fists were clenched so hard they ached.
“A bold move, my lord,” General Naham stated. “Especially considering that we are outnumbered.”
“All the more reason for boldness,” Kadesh said simply. Despite his confident words I could see the worry in his eyes, the deep fatigue as he leaned on his desk. “Send a runner with the truce flag to deliver the message, General. Flanked by two guards. A small convoy, but not threatening. And return with Horeb’s reply. He isn’t allowed to stall on this matter. He either surrenders immediately or faces a deadly battle one day hence. We’ll see how much his mercenary armies actually want this fight.”
Kadesh stamped the message with his name and kingly seal, and then General Naham strode from the royal suite to enlist three horsemen as couriers.
“Now we wait,” Kadesh said, slumping back into his chair. “And hope our men come back alive.”
I moved toward him, placing my cool fingers along the hot skin of his neck. At first, he stiffened and then relaxed at my touch. Swiveling around in his chair, he pulled me to him, his face in my chest. “Oh, Jayden,” he breathed. “How I long to make you mine.”
“I am yours. Forever,” I whispered, bending forward to kiss his lips. “No matter what happens.”
He sighed and pressed his hands along my back while I stroked his hair. Worry and anxiety showed in his dark eyes. Finally, he raised his head. “Go back to your rooms. Sleep. I’ll come for you in the morning to go see your prisoner.” He gave a small laugh. “Though God in heaven only knows why you insist on such a crazy enterprise.”
“You’ll see,” I assured him. “Soon, our army and Horeb’s three armies will be more evenly matched.”
14
In the morning a haze hovered over the city, brought in by the morning fog rolling in from the ocean.
Tijah and Jasmine dressed me like a queen. I had to sweep into that prison wearing full royal regalia to intimidate and secure what I wanted from our foreigner prisoner.
“You look astonishing,” Kadesh said when he arrived at my suite, pulling me to him while the handmaidens giggled behind their hands.
It was good to see their smiles, but nerves danced in my stomach. Now that we were on our way, I was afraid my idea might fail. But when I thought of Aliyah penetrating the palace without our knowledge, I feared her more than the prisoner sitting in the palace jail. Basim had merely laughed at my ruined wedding, blood dribbling from his mouth while I held a knife to his throat.
“This paid soldier of Horeb’s is fortunate you didn’t gut him two nights ago,” Kadesh murmured once we were outside, while gardeners and servants paused in their work to bow to us along the tiered patios and walkways.
“I hope he proves worth more alive than dead.”
Following the stone walls, we came to the eastern rampart. This gate opened onto the city thoroughfare and was now permanently locked down until the war was over, but the locked gate wasn’t our goal.
Kadesh and I took another staircase, seemingly down into the bowels of the earth.
At the landing, two guards saluted. “Your Majesty—my lady,” they stammered.
“You’ve taken a wrong turn,” an older guard said, his eyes shifting across our faces as he tried not to stare at my fine dress and jewelry.
“We’re exactly where we planned to be,” Kadesh told him. “Please let us pass.”
The man’s mouth opened and then shut. Reluctantly, he opened the door to the gloomy prison. Sour smells assaulted my nose, a mix of unwashed bodies and stale air.
Wall sconces flickered, pale
light pooling on the floor.
Memories rushed back of the time we’d found my father in the prison of Tadmur; the horrible smells, the horror of seeing my father down in a hole and chained to the walls, standing in murky, foul water. He’d been ill and emaciated, and, in many ways he still hadn’t recovered. Especially after we’d dragged him across the deserts to Sariba.
The prison warden rose from his desk. He tried to hide his surprise when he saw me, my gown trailing along the hard-packed mud floor. “My lady, you shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m not squeamish.”
The man’s eyebrows shot into his hairline and his figure bulged with muscles while his thick oiled hair had been tied back with a leather strap. “So you haven’t lost your way, my king?”
“Not at all,” Kadesh said. “We are here with a mission.”
I glanced about at the ledgers on the rickety desk, the hanging lamp overhead. A bowl filled with nuggets of frankincense burned on his desk, tendrils of smoke hovering about the windowless room. Obviously burned to mask the terrible smell coming from the prison chambers.
“The prison appears small,” I noted. “Do the citizens of Sariba keep the law that fastidiously?”
“We’re a small city compared to others,” the warden answered. “The people of Sariba are, for the most part, peaceful and happy. The temple helps when poor folks come on hard times.”
I could barely hold back the words of contradiction on my tongue, but Kadesh touched my arm as if sensing that I wanted to blurt out my true opinions about the temple.
The warden cocked his chin. “For the most part these are holding cells for those who are caught breaking the law while they await trial. Sariba’s main prison is on the other side of the city. Please don’t try to find it.”
His expression was indulgent, assuming I was a curious female who needed an escort back to my suite. “How may I help you, Your Majesty? This is no place for the king and his betrothed.”
“We want to see the prisoner brought here last night,” Kadesh said. “The leader of the mercenary soldiers who destroyed our wedding.”
The warden was visibly startled. “You mean the leader of the men who shot the Edomite king?”
“The very one,” I said, interrupting.
“How is the Edomite leader, may I ask?”
“Chemish is still at death’s door,” Kadesh said quietly. “And now we have business with the prisoner.”
The warden smoothed his hands down his chest. “Please, my king, you don’t want to talk to him. He’s a rough one. Any retribution you’re planning won’t go well. He doesn’t even deserve a trial for what he did to you and our country.”
“I appreciate your concern,” Kadesh said placidly. “I assure you I don’t intend to break any of our laws.”
“My apologies, King Kadesh. I didn’t mean—of course, you can do what you want. I will obey.”
“The fact that we are here should stay between us. I promise the prisoner won’t hurt us. At least not any more than he already has.”
The warden bowed his head. “I’ve lived a long time and revenge never comes the way we want it to,” he said. “And it’s usually not very satisfactory.”
“I call it justice,” I mumbled.
“We won’t be long,” Kadesh assured the man. “I promise that no backlash will come to you.”
“Follow me, Your Majesty,” he finally said.
Jangling a set of keys in his hands, he marched down a dim corridor. Two more narrow halls branched off in either direction. He took the left one. The walls were fashioned from cut stone. Dribbles of moisture drooled down the square blocks along with blackened candle wax.
I was aware of eyes on me as we passed. Prisoners sat in corners muttering to themselves or sleeping on mats of thin blankets. Two men talked quietly to each other across the narrow corridor, gesturing with their hands. The moment they saw us, they closed their mouths. Their eyes drilled into my back as we passed. A shudder skipped down my spine, but I was careful not to make eye contact while Kadesh kept me tight to his side.
No windows or fresh air graced this place, but at least these prisoners weren’t chained up as my father had been in Tadmur.
I almost bumped into the warden when he stopped. He held up a candle, and the pale flicker of light shone beyond the brass bars of the very last cell. The marauder from the mountains of Sheba had been placed in solitary confinement.
“Got a visitor, foreigner,” the warden barked, rattling at the bars.
The foreign man lifted his head, slowly, purposely making us wait. His black eyes stared through a curtain of dirty hair. But those eyes were intelligent. He knew immediately who I was.
“You’re not wearing your wedding finery, Princess,” he said with a grin.
Kadesh stopped to stare into the cell. “You’re Basim,” he said bluntly.
“Ah, I’m complimented, Your Royal Highnesses. You remember me.”
I squared my shoulders. “As if we would forget within less than two days.”
“Oh, it’s after midday? But how would I know?” The marauder’s mocking smile threw me off balance. His broad shoulders were like those of a giant and his mane of hair tangled by wind and sun, but he was well spoken. He could speak our language despite the distinct mountain accent. Men like him were bred for fighting. They had a blood lust. Hired for soldiering to whoever paid the best. No guilt or remorse.
When he came closer, I steeled myself not to step back from the bars.
“I think I like you, Princess,” he said, showing a mouth full of white teeth. A man of the rugged mountains who kept his teeth clean was an anomaly.
“Careful, prisoner!” Kadesh said evenly. “If it were up to me you’d never lay eyes on my bride again. She is the only reason you’re still alive.”
He chuckled. “I knew she wanted to kill me—and didn’t.”
“You ruined my wedding to the king.”
He pursed his lips. “Gossip says he wasn’t king the night of the wedding.”
“Were you trying to kill him?” I asked, coming right to the point.
“Which one?” He laughed.
I wanted to slap him through the slats, but I was fairly certain that would only get me a broken wrist if he managed to snatch my arm.
I had to admit there were qualities in him I wanted to use. I was here to prey on his lust for blood and greed for money.
“One of your men shot the King of the Edomites,” Kadesh said evenly.
Basim lifted an eyebrow. “That’s too bad. We respect the Edom city. They have fine, desert-bred horses and a fighting spirit. I have no quarrel with them.”
“Which means one of your men is a terrible shot,” I retorted. “Your men were aiming for King Kadesh, but that doesn’t matter any longer. By the grace of God’s hand, he lives and could order your death if he wanted to.”
“But he hasn’t ordered an execution yet. And your king is blind,” he added, stepping backward away from the thick bars as if fearing a lash from a whip.
Kadesh jerked forward, but restrained himself. I sensed that it was all he could do not to choke the life out of the mercenary soldier.
“We can leave whenever you want to,” Kadesh told me. “Just say the word.”
I shook my head. I wasn’t going to give up before I’d even tried. “You’re only alive because I stopped Chemish’s son, the Prince of Edom, from killing you.”
A wicked glint sparked in the prisoner’s eye. “I sit in my cell speculating about you. Am I alive because you are weak and cannot execute a foreign killer, or because you plan to make me a slave?”
“Neither.” My throat was dry as dust at the idea of him daydreaming about me. “We have something better planned.”
“Ah, I’ve somehow become valuable to you.”
“At the moment your life is not worth anything. You were going to assassinate the King of Sariba and then report to Horeb about the details of our city and army.”
“But you
spared me,” he said softly. “You’ve come to make me an offer.”
“Tell me how many men came with you from the mountains of Sheba?”
“Why would I tell you that?”
Now I laughed. “I may be smaller than you, and a woman, but I’m a desert girl. I know gnawing hunger in my belly. Walking leagues a day. Riding until you can hardly move by sunset. Thirst so burning you’d claw your throat out for a spoonful of water.”
Now he threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, lady, you have certainly risen from my previous estimation.”
“May you attempt to rise in mine,” I told him, stepping closer to the bars. “It’s no secret that Horeb has gathered a large army of more than a thousand.”
He shrugged, his eyes flicking between the two of us.
“If you can count your own men on both hands twice over I’d be surprised. Horeb used you to scare us. You’re a pawn to be sent home with a few weeks of paltry wages. And for what? Death, dismemberment? Never to see your families again? This war isn’t yours, it’s Horeb’s. And it’s a war manufactured by lies. When it’s over he will rule you with an iron fist. If he keeps you alive at all.”
The man’s meaty hands curled around the bars, but he was silent now. “Doesn’t matter,” he said roughly. “I don’t have a family to return to.”
“Don’t lie to me. A leader like you has had many women. But you are now faithful to one, the love of your life.”
He was startled. I’d been praying my bluff would work, and my hunch had proved accurate. Even I could see that underneath the wild hair, sunburned skin, and sweat-crusted clothing, he would clean up to become a tall, handsome man with hardened muscles. Accompanied by wit and a keen mind.
“Perhaps I have met my match in the Princess of Sariba—nay, the Queen of Sariba.”
“How many men do you have?” I repeated.
He smirked. “Fifty still alive in the hills. With trained war horses.”
Kadesh asked, “Are you loyal to your Queen of Sheba?”
He lifted a shoulder as if he didn’t care. “She rules with a fair hand. Leaves my tribe alone to live as we wish, but allowing free trade. City jobs when we need them.”
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