Forbidden

by Kimberley Griffiths Little

  The bushes near the tent rustled and I lifted my head, dropping the stick to the ground. My belly lurched as Kadesh ducked under the tent’s canopy.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” I told him feverishly. “There will be talk, and I fear that someone will see you.”

  “I understand, but please, grant me a moment. I need to speak with you. Because I’ve come to tell you that I’m leaving.” Kadesh quietly dropped to one knee even as he respectfully averted his face.

  My head jerked up. “What?”

  Kadesh finally lifted his face and gazed straight back at me, his cloak spread about him on the hearth carpet. “I waited until after the wedding, knowing what it means to you and your family. But there’s a caravan from Edom camped outside the oasis. They’re headed south and willing to let me ride with them. Early tomorrow they depart.”

  “Edomites? But they robbed us!”

  “Not all are thieves. These are good men. I know them. Please try to understand. I must return to my uncle, now that I am well. I’m sure he’s presumed me dead by now. There are affairs I must take care of.”

  I lowered my head, fighting the thousand jabs of sorrow in my heart. “Then you must go,” I whispered.

  “It might be many months before I can return,” Kadesh went on.

  “Then I wish you God’s safe blessings in your travels,” I managed to say.

  His eyes, so steeped in mystery, settled on my face. “Is that all you wish, Jayden, daughter of Pharez?”

  I wished so much more. Above all I wished I could tell him what was in my heart, even as it tore into pieces at the news that he was leaving.

  “May God’s faith be boundless in your heart,” I added, choking on the words.

  “Nothing more than that?” he asked slowly, and I knew he wanted things from me that I couldn’t give, that I wasn’t allowed to give.

  But suddenly, I shifted forward, throwing away caution in an impulsive burst. “What do you wish me to say?”

  His hand reached out to touch my face, and I leaned into the warmth of his palm, my resolve melting. “Just tell me that you will be here when I return.”

  “You know I’ve been promised to Horeb.”

  Kadesh gave an impatient laugh. “Yes. Your entire family reminds me of it nearly daily.”

  “But betrothals can be broken,” I let slip, speaking my greatest wish before I could stop the words. My hands flew to my face, heat rushing up my neck. “I mean—Kadesh, it’s so difficult. My entire family is involved—my uncle, my aunt, the dowry herds . . .”

  “Let me speak to your father, then!”

  I shook my head. “You’re still a stranger here, and to talk to my father so soon after we’ve met . . .” These were not the words I wanted to say.

  Kadesh leaned in even closer, and I ached all the way to my toes with his presence, his smell, the nearness of his face just inches from mine. “The moment I saw you that day on the bluff—I knew we were meant to be.”

  “Kadesh, please don’t say these things.” Quickly, I put up my hand, afraid. “Someone will hear you.”

  He caught my hand in his and my heart thudded against my ribs as he kissed each one of my fingers, then pressed my palm to his mouth. I held still, not wanting the moment to end. When he lifted his head again, he said, “I’m going to come back for you.”

  “But what if . . . there is so little time . . . Horeb . . . the wedding—”

  The sounds of the wedding party fluttered toward us. More drumming, singing. Laughter. I smelled ripe fruit and roasted lamb. Woodsmoke covered the stars like gauzy linen. I should have gotten up and returned to the celebration before I was missed, but I didn’t move.

  Kadesh’s face came closer and his warm, spiced breath rushed across my cheeks. “Let me seal my promise to you with the vow of my love,” he whispered, and before I could say another word, he pulled me into his chest, and his lips covered mine with a soft, urgent intensity I didn’t think was possible. I couldn’t speak; I couldn’t move, even though my body was on fire, every part of my skin exploding in a frenzy of pleasure. My eyes closed as he lifted me against him. I rose in his arms, and we were tightly sealed together, kissing fervently as my hands slid along the rich fabric of that marvelous cloak and then wound up and around his neck.

  Hot, lovely darkness dipped and swirled. I tasted his mouth and smelled the spicy fragrance of his skin as he kissed me again and again.

  All at once, he swept his cloak around me, enclosing us together in a private warmth against the cool night air. When I felt his heart pounding against my own breast, it was as though we had become one person, one soul.

  “Please don’t leave,” I said against his lips. “What if something happens to you? I couldn’t bear it.”

  “I won’t let the desert claim me, beautiful Jayden. Not when I know you’re waiting for me.”

  I started to speak again, but he shook his head, drowning the words in my throat as he proceeded to kiss my lips, my face, my eyes, my neck. Time seemed to stop. The stars fell from the heavens. When he stepped back I was breathless, as though I’d been turned inside out.

  We stared at each other, his hands tight around mine. His face held a joy I’d never seen before, and I wondered if my expression mirrored his. “Hold out your hand,” he whispered. Kadesh untied the pouch at his waist and brought out a handful of the pale yellow frankincense, pouring it into my palm. “Frankincense tears for my love. To pledge my commitment to you.”

  “Oh, I can’t take these, Kadesh!” I said automatically, as my thoughts focused on his words, my love.

  “Take them. They’ll bring a good price. Don’t hesitate to sell them if you need to while I’m gone.” He gently smiled as if not wanting to worry me. “I hope circumstances will never be that desperate. That instead these nugget tears will oil your hair or perfume your feet, bringing memories of me to your mind. But I have another gift for that purpose.”

  He pulled a silver anklet chain from the depths of the leather pouch and held it up to the moonlight. Feathery strands of silver dangled like lake fronds. “I brought this from my home. My grandmother gave this chain to me when she left this world. She told me to save it for the woman who would be my wife one day, and then pass it on to our daughter. I give it to you, Jayden, as a promise of our future together.”

  I held the jewelry, studying the anklet’s etched silver. The symbols of Kadesh’s mysterious clan had been carved into the surface of the wide silver band. An image of a tree with a myriad of gnarled and twisted branches, silhouetted by the halo of the sun on the horizon of the sea. I’d never seen trees like this before, and I knew immediately what grew on those unusual trunks.

  Kadesh bent down and lifted the hem of my dress to tie the silver clasp around my ankle. I was glad my dress was long enough to keep it hidden. When he stood I kissed him again, knowing I was now fully the betrayer of my betrothal for what I was doing, but I didn’t care. I had committed an infidelity, but in my heart Kadesh was the choice I should have made. Could have made—if I’d been given a chance.

  He kissed me in return, more urgently, as if time was running out. I clutched at his arm, my hands shaking. “I’m afraid for you. For us. Your home is so far away. A whole world away.”

  “It’s a journey I know well, Jayden. One I’ve taken a hundred times.”

  “What if something happens to you? What if you can’t come back?” I stopped the words I’d almost added: What if I never see you again?

  “Believe what I say, Jayden,” he said, lifting my chin so our eyes would meet. “The road will be long as I leave, but short and swift when I return. Believe it. Believe me.”

  Kadesh lifted my hands to his face one last time. His mouth lingered on mine, holding me for that fraction of eternity, as though I could glimpse into the future. “One day, Jayden, you and I will be under the wedding canopy,” he whispered.

  His words spoke of a heaven I wanted more than life itself. At that moment, I’d risk everything to make
that dream come true.

  “If I don’t return before your family starts the return journey south to your winter lands,” he whispered against my ear, “the Edomites of the red canyon lands will know where I am. They will help you find me. Remember that.”

  Our fingers slowly drew apart, a sob caught in my throat, and within moments Kadesh’s beautiful dark robes swirled away into the black of the night.

  14

  Hardly a moment had passed before Horeb appeared out of the darkness. His face was ghostly and macabre in the campfire’s dying light. “It’s a sign of insanity to talk out loud to yourself, Jayden,” he said to me while my mind roared with the impossibility of his appearance not even a breath after Kadesh’s departure. “Does your mind go mad after the long journey under the hot sun?”

  I stood there, rigid, terrified. Where had Horeb come from, and why was he here? Most unthinkable was the alarm sounding in my gut at what he might have seen before he made his presence known.

  “Please leave,” I said, darting inside the tent and hoping he wouldn’t follow. “I don’t want to speak to you right now.”

  He shoved his way through the doors of the tent and leaned over me, his lips curling. “Is that any way to talk to your future husband?”

  “You’re not my husband yet,” I managed to spit out. He took a step closer and I willed myself not to flinch as he grabbed my arm.

  “It’s only a matter of time,” he said, his eyes taunting me. He jerked his chin toward the direction that Kadesh had just taken. “Someday you’ll be in my arms, as you were just now in the stranger’s arms.”

  He stared hard at me, intimidating and powerful. It was clear Horeb would never love me, that he wasn’t capable of love for anyone but himself. His eyes were full of lust for every girl in camp, even my sister. It was the only explanation for his indifference to the sight of Kadesh’s embrace.

  “Let me go!” I commanded, trying not to show fear.

  “Why? So you can run after the stranger? Your father will not be pleased with the news I bring to his ears, dear Jayden.”

  “You know nothing!” I bluffed.

  Horeb tightened his hold, digging his fingers into my flesh. “I’ve seen enough. Perhaps I should take care of Kadesh right now—tonight.” His mouth turned up into a cruel smile. “It’s been a long time since I killed a man in battle. He and I fought once. But this time I will win.”

  “No!” The cry slipped out before I could stop it.

  Horeb laughed, reading my face. “I’ve got another idea,” he said, and his breath was hot against my cheek. “After I slit the stranger’s throat, I’ll come back and take you into the forest far from camp. After that, nobody else will want you again.”

  His threat horrified me. “How could you? You, who are supposed to love and care for me.”

  “You’d better watch your mouth, my betrothed.” His fingers pinched me harder and my legs crumpled, but Horeb held me up, his grip bruising my skin. If he tried to force me to do anything, I would kill him first. The realization gave me a peculiar sense of strength as well as terror.

  I lowered my chin, worried I’d given too much away. Worried I’d endangered Kadesh’s chance at an escape. “He’s long gone, so keep your dagger in its weak sheath.”

  Horeb laughed and pushed me away. “The stranger is a fool to journey into the southern wilderness during the fiery part of the summer. The caravan he travels with is actually a band of escaping thieves. Once the wells finish drying up, they’ll all die.”

  “You’re lying,” I said, gulping down my fear.

  “If you’re lucky, you won’t have to worry about ruining your father’s reputation. You’ll probably never see your precious stranger again.”

  With that, he departed, snapping the doors of the tent shut. I grabbed the center pole to steady myself. This couldn’t be happening. Horeb would never release me from the betrothal now, if only to spite me.

  15

  A drizzling rain tapped the roof of our tent as I lay in bed, my knees pulled tight to my chest, trying to stay warm. A wolf howled mournfully in the dismal night, and I couldn’t stop shivering. A bed of dying orange coals gave off the only light in the room; even the moon was hidden behind a bank of gray, smothering clouds.

  Hakak’s wedding party had concluded at dawn the same night Kadesh had told me good-bye—and Horeb threatened me. It had already been a month, but worry over Kadesh often wakened me in the middle of the night.

  Hakak’s newlywed happiness with Laham was a sliver of envy in my heart. Sometimes I swore the faint smell of leftover wedding food still lingered, just to torment me.

  Rolling over, I buried my head under the blankets as Leila snored softly next to me. While I listened to the familiar rustlings of the tent, I closed my eyes and imagined Kadesh lying beside me, his lips on my neck, his arms pulling me protectively close, keeping me warm, keeping me safe.

  A tear snaked down my cheek, a tight band of worry making it hard to sleep, wondering if Kadesh was safe. He’d promised to return, but the hot summer months were treacherous, the Empty Sands as far away as the moon.

  Like a serpent, Horeb slithered into my thoughts with his poisonous words, his terrible threats. I wouldn’t be trapped by Horeb. I wouldn’t allow him to kill the man I loved. Kadesh had told me to believe—and I had to do exactly that if I loved him. I sat up, quietly moving the blanket off my legs. Sleep was gone, and I couldn’t put off this task any longer.

  I slipped my fingers along the silver chain around my ankle, grateful for this tiny piece of Kadesh, giving me hope.

  Cautiously, I crawled across my bed, careful not to disturb Leila. When I reached the hanging partition and pulled it back, I was surprised to see the shadow of my father rising from his own bed in the far corner of the main room. Within seconds, he’d shoved his dagger into his waistband and was out the tent door. Quickly grabbing a shawl, I threw it across my shoulders and followed him into the night.

  He crouched over the hearth fire, blowing on the embers. The air was damp and smoke hung over the campsite like fog.

  “Father,” I whispered.

  He whipped around, pulling out his knife, and then quickly lowered it when he saw me. “Jayden! You startled me. What are you doing awake?”

  “I must speak to you. Mother—”

  He put up a hand and shook his head. “I don’t have the strength to speak of your mother tonight.”

  “But I must—”

  “No!” He cut me off. Then he lowered his voice, staring into the fire. “There is too much on my mind, Jayden. Go back to bed. Please.”

  I stared at him, refusing to obey for the first time in my life. “It’s a matter of life and death, Father.”

  He lifted his head and gave me a sad smile. “Everything comes down to that, doesn’t it? My camels. My children. My wife. Death and loss has come to our family in every way imaginable.”

  “Oh, Father,” I whispered, the same sharp ache deep in my heart. “I know, and I’m so sorry.”

  His eyes seemed to gaze beyond me, pensive, sad. “Go on, Daughter, if you won’t return to bed. What is it? What do you look so frightened about?”

  “You’re going to leave on the raid to the Maachathites soon, aren’t you?”

  “I’m a poor man, Jayden. I must go and try to reclaim the camels that were stolen from us.” He paused. “And sell a few animals to replace your lost jewels.” I was surprised he remembered. “They’ll need to be replaced if you are to marry Horeb.”

  “That’s what I’ve come to talk to you about, Father—” The words stuck in my throat, but I forced myself to say them, all the while ignoring the expression of forlornness on my father’s face. “Father, I—” I paused, and then whispered. “I can’t marry Horeb.”

  His head jerked up, and there was shock in his eyes. “What?”

  “I don’t love him. It wouldn’t be proper. I can’t, Father. I won’t.”

  My father smiled wanly and touched my cheek w
ith his rough hands. “Jayden, love will come in time.”

  “No, Father. It won’t. I’m sure of this.”

  I darted a nervous glance into the blackness that surrounded us. Someone could be listening, hidden in the shadows, yet able to hear every word we said. I lowered my voice and leaned close, the brush of my father’s beard tickling my cheek. “You don’t understand. I despise Horeb.”

  Astonishment crossed his face. “But he’s your cousin.”

  I shook my head. “No, Father, he’s not. In name, but not blood. Despite your and Abimelech’s vow as blood brothers.”

  “My contract with Abimelech is the same as true brothers. We swore oaths to each other. Binding until I die.”

  “Do you not see the things Horeb does?” I brushed a hand against my eyes, willing myself not to break down into tears. My father only saw black and white, right and wrong. And promises he would never break because it was unthinkable to him. It was an honorable way to live, but surely there were exceptions when people’s hearts and lives were at stake? My mother would think so.

  The yearning for my mother was like a physical pain. If she were here everything would be different. I ached for her arms around me, her heart of understanding, her words of comfort.

  “Has he mistreated you?”

  “In words only, but he’s made threats.”

  My father stared at me, bewildered. “I’m sure you misunderstood, my dear. Give Horeb a chance. He’s young and headstrong, but ready to marry you and create a strong, kingly family for our tribe. After losing three camels on our journey here, we’re in a desperate situation. We can’t travel during the rainy season over so many months without doubling or tripling the herd. You know that, Jayden. To go anywhere in the coming year without at least four camels per person, death would almost be a certainty. It’s imperative that we receive camels from Abimelech for your bride price.”