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by Kimberley Griffiths Little

The queen rose to stand at the window, and I followed her gaze toward the lights beginning to appear on the temple hill. “Despite my dread that we would need to assassinate or imprison Aliyah, I left my family and kingdom to try to persuade my sister of my love for her. Truly I hoped she could be saved, and that the worst might be averted.”

  “We always hope, don’t we,” I said softly, more to myself than anyone. Despite my revulsion toward Aliyah and the horror she planned to inflict on my sister Sahmril, I could see why the queen and Kadesh hoped the young woman could be persuaded to turn away from her envy and desire for revenge

  The Queen of Sa’ba turned away from the window and there were tears of hopelessness in her eyes. I’d never seen her look so vulnerable. “I’m going with you to the summer solstice, Jayden, and we have no time to lose.”

  21

  It didn’t take me long to dress again in the seductive gown from three mornings ago when I’d gone to find Leila at the temple and witnessed her High Priestess anointing. I wore jewels, perfumes, and freshly dressed hair. Despite the distraction of dressing, I couldn’t stop thinking about Sahmril, and I ached to hold her in my arms.

  The Queen of Sheba and I procured horses from the stables, and soon we were galloping up the slopes of the forest, taking the paths straight to the temple columns and gated archway, the platoon of Naomi’s guards going before us.

  Wild thudding reverberations ignited the night when we drew close. Throngs of people shouting and singing and dancing.

  “Are you ready, Jayden?” the queen asked. Briefly, she pressed my hand in hers as we moved forward.

  Holding myself regally, I tried to assume the same air of poise and self-possession while we took the outer walkways that circled the sumptuous garden pavilions. Even though the evening was warm, I shivered.

  A sphere of gold sat on the horizon. The solstice moon. Glowing as though the sun shone through from the far side.

  The moon was so bright the temple hardly needed the tall spears of flaming sconces situated about the perimeter. Or the candle lamps hanging from every tree. There were even lights up along the terraces outlining the glittering walls and the temple’s spires.

  “Regardless of the sumptuous festivities and dancing,” the queen observed, “there is an air of tension and fear. The people are here because Sariba is outnumbered by an enemy they do not know or understand. They’ve already lost several hundred men—their sons and brothers and fathers.”

  I stopped along the outer wall, sucking in a breath. “I can hardly blame them for clinging to something they hope will help ease their pain—or insure their country’s success.”

  Melancholy swept over me when I saw the distant light from Horeb’s campfires sparking against the blackness. The people here in the temple pavilions could see the enemy dotting the landscape. The random lights sprawled endlessly. Troops as numerous as the sands of the Irreantum Sea.

  Putting a hand on the edge of the stone wall, I tried to steady myself. How could we possibly defeat them? Right now I had to focus. “All I want to do is get Sahmril out of here and go home.”

  The crowd was dense with citizens already drunk on dancing and goblets of wine.

  A raucous couple bumped into me, spilling red wine along my sleeve. They barely mumbled an apology before lurching forward to dance to the group of drummers.

  The beat of those deep, rhythmic drums pulsed under my sandals. It reminded me of those soft nights in my family’s tent dancing with my mother and sister and cousins. The sound of our camels outside the door while I moved to the rhythm of the desert’s heartbeat, my toes digging into the sand and heat of its pulse. I’d never fully appreciated those happy years until my mother was gone.

  The golden moon glowed hot. The priestesses and the women of Sariba shed their scarves, baring their necks. They danced, arms up to the sky, calling down the power of Ba’al and the Goddess.

  Stiffly, I walked through the crowd, eyes darting about to spy the location of my sisters.

  I signaled to the commander of Naomi’s guards. “Disperse yourselves and see if you can find my sister the High Priestess Leila.”

  “Yes, my lady.” The men quickly departed, moving in and out of the crowd, receiving glowering expressions from the temple guards and the Egyptian priests. I realized with a sinking heart that my handful of guards were no match for the swarm of foreign magicians and dozens of temple guards.

  “Where are you, Leila?” I said aloud.

  “If she wants to be found, she will,” the queen said next to me. Her presence was a comfort, but waves of nerves and anxiety emanated from her, too. After Aliyah’s attack at the palace, we were both much more frightened and intimidated by the spectacle before us.

  “I fear that her suggestion about meeting and saying good-bye to Sahmril were hollow at best,” I murmured.

  “Your sister probably meant them at the time, but Aliyah will thwart any potential private meet-up. She can’t risk your snatching Sahmril from the promise of a solstice sacrifice. Or persuading Leila away from tonight’s purpose.”

  “I think you’re right,” I said, perspiration beginning to form on the back of my neck.

  The Queen of Sheba observed the crowds. “Aliyah has whipped them up into a frenzy of demented hope for victory. But little do they know that it’s not victory for their homeland of Sariba and King Kadesh, but victory for herself and Horeb’s armies who sit within view of tonight’s spectacle ready to crush us.”

  Satin curtains billowed about a vaulted tent, the focal point of the upcoming ceremony. A moment later I spotted Aliyah rising up on a podium. Her gown billowed in an unseen breeze, and it appeared as though she were flying through the summer night. She was stunning in a glowing white dress. Her black hair sparkled with gold dust shavings, thick dark curls falling luxuriantly to her waist.

  “My people of Sariba!” Aliyah called to gain their attention. “Tonight we pay tribute to the gods and goddesses who are waiting to bless you. They desire to bless this land with fruit and meat. If you are faithful, they will give us victory over our enemies. Those enemies in our mountains who salivate to plunge their swords into our hearts and steal our lands and our wealth.”

  The crowd was so enthusiastic their screams and cheers nearly drowned out Aliyah’s words.

  “For victory!” the men shouted, raising goblets high into the air, wine splashing over the rims.

  Aliyah spread her arms out as though to enclose them all inside a circle of adoration. “Your devotion to me as your Goddess fills me with a desire to bless you. But we know that we have to offer sacrifice—because sacrificing things we love to the Goddess brings forth blessings. The spirit of Sariba imbues me with the ability to grant your heart’s wishes. We can conquer our enemies. We will send them home with their tails between their legs.”

  More laughter and more cheering surrounded me like a heavy tidal wave, making me ill. Where was Sahmril? And where was Leila? I paced the walkways, my neck aching each time I arched upward to scan the crowd.

  “Patience, Jayden,” the queen said beside me.

  “They’re not going to defeat three armies by drinking and dancing and falling into Sacred Marriage beds tonight,” I said in an angry voice.

  The crowd had quieted when I spoke so that my words were heard loud and clear. A sea of faces turned to me, curious, defiant.

  Aliyah spotted me. “Our guest of honor has arrived. Come, Jayden.”

  The people pushed me forward, and I stumbled toward the pavilion dais. “Wasn’t she part of that company of Edomites that arrived a fortnight ago?” a male voice questioned.

  A disdainful female speculated, “Is she the one they say was supposed to wed King Kadesh? She’s dressed more like a priestess, not someone our prince would marry.”

  The woman’s words were true, and I had done so purposely to blend in. Now I felt self-conscious.

  “Hold your head high,” the queen ordered, gripping my arm as we stood close together on the pathway bef
ore the dais.

  The voices continued, consuming me. “No, she’s the Nephish princess betrothed to the leader of the enemy.”

  “This war is her fault.”

  “Our prince lost his mind wandering the desert.”

  “King Kadesh will save us.”

  Another person scoffed, “He’s blind and maimed. We need the Goddess to save us.”

  My head spun at their scathing words. How could I blame them? In part, they spoke truth. I had brought the threat of destruction to this land.

  Aliyah’s next words were a balm. “I am the Goddess of Sariba, my people. I’ve brought the power of the throne of Sa’ba, the magic of Egypt, and the soul of the Goddess to fruition within me.”

  The crowd bowed before her, sinking to the stone and manicured lawns.

  Someone shouted behind me. “We need a sacrifice! A sacrifice!” The others took up the chant, and the roar gave me a headache, my stomach turning over with fear.

  Aliyah bestowed smiles on her worshipers. “I have brought you the perfect sacrifice. One I have desired for a long time.”

  “Show us!” shouted the crowd. Some threw their goblets into the air. The drummers began a wild and frenzied drumming, while the temple priestesses formed a circle around Aliyah. They danced with abandon, tearing at their hair. The heavy makeup disguised their identities. I strained to recognize Leila, but I couldn’t.

  Aliyah gave a signal to her palace guards, and an enormous chandelier hanging over a second dais lit up with hundreds of candles, showering light upon a giant figure covered by folds of heavy draperies. A dozen priests of Ba’al surrounded the dais, and when Aliyah flicked her hand again, the priests of Ba’al pulled off the draperies.

  Towering over the temple grounds was an enormous statue of the God of Moloch, the god of sacrifice for the priests of Ba’al. It was fierce, wings fanning out from its back, an animal mouth, and wide, staring red eyes aflame with light. The figure held out his arms in a beguiling welcome, each finger individually crafted, palms bigger than my head.

  I’d never seen one before; I’d only ever heard descriptions.

  Someone whispered in awed tones, “It’s the fire god!”

  “Behold Moloch!” Aliyah shouted. “Regard your worshippers! We bow before you.”

  While I stood there, horrified, the people began dropping to their hands and knees.

  The priests of Ba’al filled the hollow belly of the brass statue with kindling and logs. The priests lit the wood with a dose of liqueur and then threw their torches inside the pyre. Before I could flee, the fire roared, licking up the dry wood, sending sparks of yellow and orange up inside the statue.

  The people scrambled away from the heat that poured off the towering statue, and I began to sweat great drops down my neck. Soon the bronze god began to glow. It was then that a movement beside Aliyah caught my eye.

  The High Priest of the Temple of Ba’al opened a set of double doors behind Aliyah. With slow steps set against the pounding drums, the man brought forth the High Priestess of Sariba, holding her hand in his. She, in turn, was holding the hand of a young child.

  The priestess was Leila, and the child was Sahmril.

  22

  Leila!” I screamed. The crowd held me back, but I wriggled forward.

  Confusion crossed my sister’s face when her eyes rested on me, while a benign expression graced her lips. Sahmril had no idea I was shouting about her. I was merely a crazy woman, and the look of fear in her eyes tore at my heart.

  An Egyptian priest pulled me away. Twisting in the man’s arms, I finally managed to shove him off. It was Heru, the Egyptian High Priest who’d taken Sahmril from me in the ceremonial chamber a few days earlier.

  “You!” I said, but he grabbed me again, pinning my arms behind my back. “Let me go!”

  I craned my neck to see that two more priests had the Queen of Sheba held as well. We stared at each other, and my heart throbbed in panic.

  Aliyah called down from her pedestal. “Let Jayden, Princess of the Nephish, come to me.”

  When she used my tribal title, the worshippers wouldn’t see me as Kadesh’s betrothed and their future queen. As someone to save for their king’s sake. From their perspective, I had brought the threat of death and destruction. They hated me.

  When I reached the dais, Heru shoved me to the ground, forcing my nose against the stone paving. “As Goddess of Sariba, you will bow to me,” Aliyah commanded. “I will be queen of the southern lands. Queen of Sheba. And eventually Queen of Babylonia.”

  The worshippers wept, prostrated themselves, and howled for my demise.

  Aliyah’s eyes settled on her sister standing behind me. She laughed at the queen’s bandaged hands, useless against the hold of her Egyptian priests. “Yes, my queen, you will literally hand over the kingdom of Sa’ba to me tonight.”

  “They’re drunk!” I said, spitting at Aliyah’s red painted toes. “Their wine goblets are drugged.”

  Aliyah laughed. “But they get to keep their goblets as a gift from me. And now I have a gift for you, sweet Jayden. Two gifts and a chance to redeem yourself before these good people. If I allowed my worshippers to act on their rage, they would tear you limb from limb for bringing the armies of the north here.”

  “I don’t want your gifts.”

  “Oh, but you covet this one.” She turned to one of her handmaidens, gesturing to a table overlaid with snowy-white linen. The girl clasped a box between her hands and walked forward to show it off to me.

  I wept at the sight of my mother’s treasured alabaster box. The beloved gift my father had given to her on their wedding day, and the one that my older sister had stolen away from our family tent so long ago.

  “Open it,” Aliyah ordered.

  I stared at her, defiant, but finally lifted the lid. The last time I’d seen this box, Leila had hidden a wooden statue of the dancing goddess of Ashtoreth inside it.

  I sucked in my breath. Now the box was empty.

  “Your sister made a sacrifice. She gave up her idol of Ashtoreth to follow me, a goddess of greater authority and influence.”

  A familiar scent rose up from the box. The aroma of sandalwood, strong and perfumed. Along with the odor of burnt ashes. I shook the box and a pile of ashes lay in the bottom. The ashes of my sister’s old and beloved statue.

  Aliyah had forced Leila to burn the symbol of Ashtoreth to prove her obedience to the new Goddess.

  “Go ahead,” the woman said seductively. “Smell it again. Breathe it in. Deeply.”

  I stared at her warily. Was she poisoning me, tricking me?

  Aliyah gave a throaty laugh. “Jayden, you now have the Goddess burned into your nostrils. Burned into your throat, your lungs, and your heart. You’ll never get rid of Her. She will always be a part of you.”

  “It’s merely a piece of wood,” I scoffed, turning the box over and dumping the ashes onto the ground. With my heel, I ground the figure’s final remains into the dirt.

  Anger flashed across Aliyah’s face. “Bring forth the sacrifice!”

  The enormous statue glowed a deep red from the fire burning in its belly. Sweat dripped down my chest and back.

  “The sister of this heathen girl from the north will be offered to the great God and Goddess of Sariba!” Aliyah cried to the crowd.

  Leila stepped forward, her voice an eerie melody when she pronounced, “Sahmril is kin by blood, and I give her willingly for the Goddess. A perfect life to bring forth new life for all.”

  “Leila, it’s all lies,” I tried to shout at her. “The only one giving up anything is the person who dies—for nothing. Aliyah should offer herself.”

  My sister gave an indulgent shrug. “But Aliyah is the Goddess. How can she offer herself?” Then she lifted Sahmril into her arms and crossed the lawns toward the High Priest of Ba’al, placing the beautiful girl with her dark sticky curls into the priest’s arms. My breath hitched when he walked toward the fire god Moloch, chanting the sacrificial p
rayers. The other priests joined in, forming a line behind him.

  Sahmril began to wail as Aliyah signaled the drummers to intensify their pounding. Flute players howled a high-pitched song, the notes straining into the black night.

  The faces of the massive crowd turned upward to the god, light from the fire flickering across their features. The sight of the immense statue glowing against the night sky was so intense Horeb’s men could probably see it across the desert.

  Sahmril’s crying was like a knife to my gut, ripping me in half. When the Egyptian’s arms loosened for a fraction of a moment, I leaped forward, pushing the lesser priests aside to claw Sahmril from the arms of the High Priest of Ba’al.

  There was stunned silence. The musicians stopped. And then I was running into the crowd trying to get away, tripping over the hem of my dress while I held Sahmril tight to me.

  “Run!” the queen cried, urging me to escape.

  Sahmril burst into tears. “Shh, shh,” I tried to comfort her. “I’m going to save you—”

  All at once, I went down with a thud on the soft grass, rolling to the side to prevent my sister from getting hurt. Before I could move, male arms lifted us both, and we were carried by a dozen priests before Aliyah.

  “You dare to defy me, the Goddess,” she proclaimed while I clasped my sister hard to my chest. Tears bit at my eyes when I breathed in the scent of her skin. There was no way to escape. We were surrounded by Ba’al and Egyptian priests and the altar where Aliyah stood in all her glory.

  I strained my eyes to find the guards who had accompanied us from the city and finally spotted them. On the outer ring of Ba’al and Egyptian priests, Aunt Naomi’s personal guards were being held at bay by temple guards, too many to count. The guards had been beaten badly, swaying on their feet, their weapons confiscated, their wrists tied with rope. I’d needed my own personal army to come up here to have any hope of leaving alive.

  “Yes, I dare to defy you,” I finally answered. “Because I will give the Goddess of Sariba a better sacrifice. I offer myself. But only on the condition that Sahmril returns to my father at the palace.”

 

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