Forbidden

by Kimberley Griffiths Little

  “If I see Horeb again, I will kill him,” I said, the words flying out of my mouth.

  My grandmother’s black eyes saw and knew everything. “He’s done this to you?”

  “Yes. And worse things, Grandmother, you must believe me!”

  “You don’t have to tell me the details,” Seraiah said soothingly. “I am your witness.”

  The empathy and love in her old, dear eyes just made me cry harder. “Oh, Grandmother, what am I going to do?”

  She held me, stroking my tangled, sodden hair. “I don’t know, child. But you need to tell me what happened tonight. What did Horeb do besides attack you? Are there deeds you regret?”

  “There is so much sorrow I don’t know where to begin.”

  “You’re shaking like a newborn camel,” she said, holding my hands firmly in her own.

  Fear filled my throat so I couldn’t even speak.

  My grandmother kissed my hands and put her thin arms around me as I buried my head into her neck. “Whatever happens, I will be behind you. Believe, my daughter.”

  I jerked my head up. “Believe. That’s exactly what Kadesh told me.”

  She gave me one of her wry smiles. “Then he is even wiser than I gave him credit.”

  Sitting me down on the rug, she began to gather supplies for cleaning my wounds. Our baby camel pushed her way into the tent and I curled at her side as she folded herself up and blinked at the world through long-lashed eyes.

  In a few minutes, the fire was hot and the large pot of water starting to bubble as my grandmother made sure the tent flaps were secured.

  Peeling off the last shreds of my torn dress, I felt as though I were shedding the petals of a wilted, dying flower. Something inside me had died, too. The night had changed everything and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be whole again.

  When I climbed into the tub, I winced as the hot water covered my wounds. Without a word, Seraiah dipped clean linens into the steaming water and began to gently wash away the blood and dirt.

  “Everything hurts!” I moaned as the water turned red. The slash along my neck was still bleeding, oozing along my shoulder.

  “Lie back now and close your eyes,” she commanded softly. “I think we need to stitch this wound.”

  “But Horeb!” I cried, unable to relax in the hot water. “He was chasing me, and he could show up here any moment.”

  “I’ll deal with Horeb if he does. Now do as I say.”

  I wanted to immerse my aching body, but my nerves were on edge, the night full of danger. “I’m so afraid, Grandmother. Horeb will kill me out of vengeance for not loving him. For loving Kadesh instead.”

  My grandmother nodded, listening as she gently sponged my neck and threaded a needle to make three small sutures.

  “I tried to talk to my father about the betrothal,” I went on. “But he won’t change his mind.”

  “Without camels, a poor man doesn’t have many choices.”

  “Neither does the daughter of a poor man. What will I do if Kadesh never returns?”

  Seraiah’s eyes held mine with a fierce love. “If you love this young stranger,” she said quietly, “then you can only believe that somehow he will find a way to stay alive.”

  My grandmother tied my hair on top of my head so she could examine the knife wound and begin to make a dressing doused in turmeric and myrrh. “I knew something was going on the night of Hakak’s wedding,” she admitted. “I saw those thunderous gazes between you and the stranger. I suspected, but did nothing, thinking you would forget about him when he left. Thinking that was safer for everyone. But I was wrong.”

  “But will he want me now that Horeb has marked me with all these scars?”

  My grandmother pursed her lips. “If Kadesh is the kind of man you could love, then he will forgive the scars Horeb gave you tonight. Not only the scars from his malevolent dagger, but the wounds left on your heart, and the terror on your soul.”

  Silent tears ran down my cold cheeks despite the soothing hands of my grandmother. From outside the tent came the noises of the snuffling of camels. I gripped my grandmother’s arm.

  Seraiah’s eyes darted about the room. “The night is restless.”

  I realized for the first time that she was also afraid of the shadows on the other side of the tent walls.

  A sudden premonition made me rise from the water.

  “Help me out of the tub, Grandmother! We must flee!”

  I threw my dress over my head just as the tent doors flung wide. Horeb stood there, blood splattered, breathing heavy, staring at us with slitted, dark eyes.

  Seraiah wasted no time in marching directly up to him. “You’re not welcome here. Every sane person is asleep.”

  “Then we must not be sane,” Horeb said with a wicked grin. “I came to claim Jayden and take her to my tent. I don’t trust her, and she knows it.”

  “You will not take her from me. Think about your honor, Horeb. Me, an old woman being tended by my own granddaughter, and you barging in here uninvited at this hour.”

  “Looks just the opposite to me with your medicines and sutures,” he countered. “After tonight, Jayden and the kingship are mine. It’s done. I officially declare it.”

  Turning red in the face, Seraiah flung words at him. “You would claim the Nephish throne as our king—and not give your betrothed a wedding fit for a queen! What a shameful beginning to your rule as our leader. Think of your role. Haven’t you done enough damage for one night? You could be forced out permanently and banished for what you’ve done to Jayden, a woman you should honor and protect. I’m ashamed of you.”

  I turned my back on him, knowing that my grandmother didn’t even know the whole story, the loss of Abimelech making me sick. I clutched my hands to my belly, keenly feeling the absence of Kadesh and my father as well.

  “Go home to your parents. We will discuss the matter of the betrothal and your wedding later. Not in the middle of the night. And be warned: I will kill you myself if you lay a hand on Jayden again before your marriage.”

  Horeb took a step forward, his face dark with fury. Pointing his finger at me, he added, “Do not believe everything she tells you. Your granddaughter is a cunning liar.”

  I whirled around, but before I could say a word, he strode through the tent doors and was gone, like an evil spirit.

  My grandmother turned to me. “He has the eyes of a wild man. I fear for the tribe under his leadership. And I can see why you fear for Kadesh. What did he mean by his accusations against you?”

  “He saw me and Kadesh . . . before he left to travel with the caravan. My virtue is not at stake, although Horeb tried to take it from me tonight.”

  “The snake! Trying to blackmail you and me. At least he has time to grow up and be trained by his father.”

  I shook my head, bitter tears swamping my eyes and throat. “There’s more,” I added softly.

  She grasped my hands in her old, wrinkled ones, her own eyes stricken and wild. “What haven’t you told me?”

  “Abimelech is dead. Murdered this very night in his bed by Horeb. I saw the evidence myself, but Horeb already destroyed it.”

  “I believe you,” my grandmother said slowly. “The deed is written all over Horeb’s face and in his efforts to steal you away tonight to his bed. I fear our tribe is in dire trouble, and you are doomed, my child. Horeb will not let this rest. Not until you’ve given him what he wants—and Kadesh’s dead body.”

  20

  There was no sleep that night.

  I lay on my bed with my newly purchased dagger in my lap.

  My grandmother polished her own small knife in front of the tent fire where my father usually sat, her frail hands scrubbing the blade across the whetstone to guarantee its sharpness.

  There was a raw edge to the world, and as the night deepened, I was as agitated as ever. The moon wavered on the horizon, about to crash into the edge of the world—and with it came the screams of a woman.

  My grandmother’s chi
n jerked up. “Judith,” she breathed.

  Grabbing my dagger, I immediately headed for Abimelech’s tent, Seraiah right behind me.

  We found Aunt Judith standing under the canopy of her fire hearth, screaming and throwing ashes over her head. Tears stained with black soot ran in rivulets down her cheeks.

  Across the valley, women parted their tent doors to peer out into the black night.

  “Judith!” Seraiah cried. “Go inside! You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

  There was an unnatural look in Aunt Judith’s eye. “Have you no compassion? My husband is dead! Murdered in his bed this very night! My sons are both gone! I will die now!”

  Judith prostrated herself on the ground, sobbing.

  My grandmother’s sharp brows came together as our eyes locked. “And so it begins. I wonder where Horeb is, and if the snake led his own mother to his father’s body.”

  Cries of grief quickly spread that Aunt Judith had been widowed through the night. That Abimelech, our tribal leader, was dead.

  Women hurried over to Judith’s campsite, flinging ashes into the air and wailing. I held myself still, willing myself not to collapse. I hadn’t slept for a moment and my body ached as if I might have a fever.

  Judith’s grief was horrible and frightening.

  My grandmother whispered fiercely, “You are right to fear Horeb. We all should.” Her eyes darted about the camp and I could almost hear her thoughts. “Where is Falail? And your sister?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  “They were to attend a new baby party with Judith last night, but I see that isn’t true. Judith must have come home to search the girls out—and found her husband instead.” Seraiah pursed her lips. “I’m sure we can both guess where they are now.”

  I nodded, not wanting to admit that my sister and cousin were at the temple. I would not be the one to tell Judith that she had lost a daughter to the Temple of Ashtoreth, after losing her husband.

  Aunt Judith let out another wail as she smeared ashes across her forehead. She covered her hands with the fine, gray powder and lifted them to the sky. “I need my son, my Horeb! And he is gone, too.”

  Seraiah tried to pull Judith to her feet. “Let’s talk inside the tent.”

  Judith crumpled into a heap and my grandmother knelt in the fire’s ashes with her, trying to soothe her as she had done for me earlier. “God will bring Horeb home. Of that you need not worry. And we will find Falail and Leila. Remember your young son, Chezib. He needs you now as we mourn Abimelech.”

  After a few moments, Aunt Judith suddenly pressed her lips together, smoothing soot-stained hands on the shreds of her dress as she rose from the hearth. Her calm demeanor now scared me more than the screaming rants. “I can be happy about one thing. That Horeb is not here to witness his father’s death. That he will be spared his burial while he’s out protecting us and assuring our security.”

  I flinched at the lies. She would never doubt Horeb, never question her son’s loyalty and love.

  “There’s more to say before we wash and dress my husband’s body.” My aunt turned to me and gave me a cold stare. I shrank back, my heart hammering against my chest. “Last night Horeb met me on his way to lead the tribe. We talked about many matters.”

  “What could be worse than the news we’ve already shared?” my grandmother murmured, trying to shepherd Judith into the tent, but my aunt wouldn’t move. She merely spoke louder, in front of all our neighbors and friends.

  Judith turned red and swollen eyes on me, pointing harshly. “Horeb’s betrothed, our dear Jayden here, has betrayed him.”

  Her words were stones in my chest.

  “What are you saying?” my grandmother asked sharply.

  “Your innocent granddaughter is more devious than you know,” Judith hissed. “Jayden has given herself to the stranger, Kadesh. Horeb says that she is no longer pure.”

  My world seemed to explode as I heard the gasps and cries of the women surrounding us. Some were shocked, but a few faces turned ugly and spiteful. I knew I shouldn’t have sat up all night with a dagger in my skirt. I should have killed Horeb when I had the chance. I was sure he had left for the desert after coming to my tent and arguing with Seraiah, but instead, he’d gone to his mother and whispered dangerous secrets into her ears.

  “Lies!” I moved toward Judith, looking her in the eye, not willing to be disgraced. “All lies!” I sputtered. “What about these cuts? These bruises?” I pulled up my sleeves, wincing as the festering cuts stuck against the cloth and pulled away with fresh specks of blood. “Horeb,” I spat, “your beloved son, attacked me earlier—before he talked to you.”

  “You won’t get me to turn against Horeb,” Judith snapped. “I’ve seen you making eyes at the stranger. We all saw it, and were relieved when he was gone so your marriage could take place and secure the safety of the tribe. You’ve brought shame to us, your family, and dishonor to Horeb, our leader.” She clutched her belly, grief overcoming her. Through her tears she screeched, “How could you do this, Jayden—after all our family has done for yours! You don’t deserve Horeb. You’ve dishonored us all!”

  Judith dropped to the heap of rugs. She pulled at her hair, her mourning howls piercing the night. The other women of the camp surged forward to comfort her, offering solace while Hakak and Timmath sent me sharp, razor glares as they passed. One woman even spat at my feet.

  I was so humiliated, I couldn’t even move. Horeb had taken everything from me, and Aunt Judith’s words had now condemned me.

  My grandmother wiped at her face and then said in her soft, commanding voice, “There’s more here than can be discussed right now, despite the horrors of this night—” Her voice broke off as the sound of racing camels roared behind us.

  “Horeb!” Judith screamed, running forward.

  Horeb and a group of his hunting and raiding companions quickly surrounded the tent. Camels and men were everywhere, reigning in their mounts, shouting orders.

  I sank to the ground, keenly aware that I’d been caught in a prison—not for my own sins, but for Horeb’s treachery. The moments of my life were already slipping away as the warriors’ camels spit and reeled in a frenzied circle, trapping me forever in fabricated lies. The scorpion’s sting was a dagger to my heart. I’d be stoned at dawn. All because I secretly loved a stranger.

  Horeb and his entourage of more than a dozen young men were decorated and ready for battle. Dust swirled about their camels’ feet in a cloud-like plume. The animals were packed and loaded with water, rations, and sleeping mats. Swords and curved daggers were strapped to their waists. They were outfitted for a war they were determined to win at any cost.

  I pressed a fist to my chest, trying to suck in air, trying not to faint.

  “My son,” Judith murmured as Horeb leaned down from his saddle to embrace her.

  “We ride to avenge my good name, my father’s death, and the reputation of my betrothed, the daughter of Pharez,” he declared in a loud voice.

  My lip curled as I realized that Horeb had just betrayed himself. He’d mentioned Abimelech’s death before he was supposed to know about it.

  I threw a hateful glance at Judith and the others, but my aunt stared up at her son, enraptured by him, her hands clasped to her breast. My grandmother’s eyes caught mine, and she slowly nodded. At least somebody believed me. Someone would help me. But who would listen to an old, feeble woman? Horeb would blackmail her, too. Or toss her aside.

  “The stranger, Kadesh, has attempted to strip away her virtue, and for this he will be killed,” Horeb went on, his presence commanding as he sat tall on his mount. “We’ve learned that a caravan loaded with spices from the south is heading to the city of Damascus, hardly a week’s journey. We’ll take their camels and riches as payment for my betrothed’s purity.”

  The group of raiders lifted their swords, cheering at Horeb’s words.

  “You are so good, so noble,” Judith said, pressing Horeb�
�s hands to her lips, tears rolling down her face. “To think of your betrothed over your own welfare and good name. God will bless you as you take your father’s role as tribal leader.”

  I watched my worst fears realized, and there was nothing I could do. Bile raced up my throat, and I was sure I’d be ill right there.

  Horeb smiled down at his mother from his lofty perch, and only I could see the condescension written on his face. “There’s only one line of wells, and the stranger’s caravan will not leave the trail merely to avoid a raid. They will be impossible to miss. I’ll come back with riches for you, and I will return with the head of the stranger called Kadesh!”

  I dropped to the cold fire under the canopy of Judith’s tent, but immediately elderly hands grasped my arms. “Come, child,” my grandmother urged.

  The earth shook from the speeding hooves as Horeb’s raiders began to depart. New grass and flowers were trampled as the men skirted the oasis and headed for the open desert. The confident war cries of Horeb’s men—boys I had known my entire life—rang like death in my ears.

  Kadesh would never survive. He was completely outnumbered. Even with a caravan, Horeb would use his army’s cunning to separate Kadesh from the rest of the people he was traveling with to murder him. An army against one.

  My grandmother tugged at my arm again as Aunt Judith turned to us. Grief had thrust deep etches in her soot-stained face. Her eyes were hollow, her dress torn and ragged as a witness to her dead husband.

  “Judith,” Seraiah said bluntly. “Horeb knew of his father’s death without ever entering the tent to witness his body. Before anyone had the chance to impart the news.”

  Aunt Judith’s eyes came into focus. “You will not turn me against my son and my king. Most likely, one of his men heard the news and informed him. He also witnessed the obvious signs of grief here.”

  “Judith—” Seraiah started again, but the woman ignored her, throwing up a hand to dismiss her, and leveled her gaze at me instead.

  “You’ve brought humiliation and defamation to my family and to my son. Now get out of my camp.”

  “Aunt Judith, you must listen, please—” I begged.