Forbidden

by Kimberley Griffiths Little

  I didn’t want to appear interested, but curiosity got the better of me and I found myself staring at the bustling crowd.

  “On the lower floors are granaries, food stores, and offices,” Leila said, interrupting my thoughts. “An orphanage is housed on the floor just below us, too.”

  My eyes flew to her face. “An orphanage?”

  She smiled. “Yes, the priestesses spend a lot of time on charity work when they’re not busy with their priestly duties taking care of the goddess.”

  “What do you mean, taking care of the goddess?”

  “The statue of Ashtoreth in the main hall. They bathe and feed and clothe her, taking care of the offerings that are left by the citizens of Tadmur. Priestesses also organize the festivals and worship services during the year.”

  “So it’s not just silk dresses and flowers in your hair and soft beds to sleep in,” I said with a smile, glancing over at her.

  Leila stuck out her tongue at me and for a moment, it felt like old times, when we were children. A time that was long gone. “Of course, since the population of the temple is fairly large, with people who live or work here, there are many people to feed, too.”

  As we explored the various wings of the temple, the population of women increased. Most doors were open and I couldn’t help peeking inside as we passed their apartments.

  Food was being cooked, beer brewed, jewelry designed, fabric woven on enormous looms. There was even a room filled with cut flowers where perfume was created. Another where black kohl eyeliner sticks were made. I hadn’t realized how complicated a temple center could be.

  “This way,” Leila said as we went deeper into the temple. Here the doorways were lower, and there weren’t any windows open to the roofs. It was dark and shadowy after the fierce glare of the sun.

  Wall sconces flickered against walls painted a deep red color, earthy like a field of soil. Unusual spirals and swirls decorated the plaster, which was so smooth the walls appeared slick as water. Lapis lazuli winked in coiled patterns on the ceiling, along with carnelian, and orchids created from ivory. Gold leafing embellished the corners and edges of crown moldings.

  Tucked into recessed alcoves, I spotted copper and stone sculptures, and statues of women in various poses of the women’s dance. They reminded me of Leila’s sculpted wooden figurine from the tamarisk grove.

  I’d been taught not to worship statues and idols, but I couldn’t keep myself from admiring the craftsmanship and the beauty of these statues. They represented the prelude of dance performed before the Sacred Marriage Rite began. The marriage rite involving two people who not only were not married, but most likely didn’t even know each other.

  When my mother spoke of it I’d been disturbed, even frightened that girls and women had corrupted the beautiful dance of our Mother Goddess to lure men into their bed in the name of the goddess.

  Despite that, the dance was still beautiful, and I realized that I needed to dance. It was in my blood. Dancing would help me get strong again. And I wanted to keep my mother’s memory alive within me.

  Leila stopped in front of the sculptures. “A few of us want more than cooking over hot fires, chasing after smelly camels, and sweeping dirt from the rugs.”

  I shook my head in disagreement. “Summer at the oasis is the best part of the year. There’s always a wedding or a new baby, more food than we can eat, plus endless conversation and visiting.”

  “Until this year,” Leila said pointedly.

  I bit at my lips, becoming restless surrounded by exaggerated glamour and polished floors. I wanted to go outside, experience the texture of dirt beneath my feet again. “I hear music,” I said, changing the subject.

  Leila smiled as I followed her down a staircase of cream-colored tiles. “There’s always music somewhere.”

  The lilting sound grew louder as we walked on, and I recognized drums, a lyre, and a flute. It reminded me of a time when I’d come to Tadmur with my mother and we’d stopped to listen to a group of traveling musicians in the town square.

  Soon we entered another room, where two sunken marble tubs took almost the entire width of the space. The tubs were filled with steaming, scented water. Beside the baths stood racks filled with jars of creams, perfumes, and ointments. Plates of fat grapes were ready to eat while bathing, and thick towels lay in stacks for drying off afterward.

  Small, high windows had been cut into the upper walls, creating an airy, large room.

  An arched doorway at the opposite end opened into a second apartment with more baths. Beyond that I could see sleeping rooms with luxurious beds. Dresses in every color and fabric had been flung over chairs and tables.

  “This is where we sleep and dress for the festival,” Leila said. “And now that you’re well again, you will be able to wear a new dress and attend the ceremonies, too.”

  I wanted to touch every single one of those silky, flowing dresses and lift each perfume bottle to smell its heady fragrance. “It’s so strange to be here.” Even as I spoke, I found myself staring at the shining, sunken bathtubs, and the beauty of clear, steaming water. I’d never had a bath quite like this before. The one upstairs in my recovery room was small with only Leila to help me. These were as enormous as a small pond.

  “Are you all right, Jayden?” Leila asked, touching my hand. “Your face—”

  I tried to shake the images that haunted me from that night when I fled Horeb and the deathbed of Abimelech. Running over rocks, falling into the pond, clawing my way to the bank, and then fighting with Horeb and enduring the slaughter he’d made of my body with my own dagger. “I’m all right,” I finally said, trying to appear happy. “The room is exquisite, like a dream.”

  Leila slipped out of her clothes and stepped into one of the bathtubs, then flung water at me. Droplets sprayed the air, and I had a sudden urgency to run. Temptation for ease, elegance, and luxury warred against my plain desert upbringing. The baths made me long for my mother, when she’d help me wash my hair in our enclosed tent late at night, when all the world would sleep. She’d scrub my neck while crooning lullabies, chatting softly before tucking me into bed.

  Before Leila could urge me into the water, Esther was behind me in the bathing room, tugging my old, worn shawl from my shoulders. I tried to snatch it back, but she held it high in the air so I couldn’t reach. “Leila, your sister’s got a knife in her waistband!”

  I turned toward Esther, whose eyes stared at me, cold and questioning.

  “Jayden!” Leila hissed. “What are you doing with a dagger?”

  “I purchased the knife more than a month ago in the market. You know the men were leaving for their raid, Leila, and I needed something for protection. Even if it’s only a wandering hyena,” I added lightly.

  Esther slowly smiled. “Perhaps I underestimated you, Jayden.”

  I didn’t look at her, focusing on wrapping the knife in my shawl again. “It’s really just a big kitchen knife,” I said casually, bending over to swirl the water with my hand.

  Taking a bath was enticing in the heat, and it would take the girls’ minds off my new dagger. With my back turned, I self-consciously undressed and stepped into the tub, instantly submerging myself so they couldn’t see the cuts and bruises on my body. Even though they were mostly healed, I still winced at the stinging sensation in the water.

  Leila dripped puddles over the glossy floor as she got out and grabbed a towel. “I’ll pour fresh water for you, Jayden.”

  “We’ll get the maids to do it,” Esther said. “Let’s curl your hair, Leila, after it dries. Tonight is the culminating night of the festival, the night of the Sacred Marriage Rite, and we must all look our most beautiful.”

  There was a pang in my gut when she spoke those words. Leila and I would have to find a corner to hide in after the meal and dancing were over. We could probably return to my bedroom and stay up talking like we used to do.

  I sank back in the tub and closed my eyes, trying to clear my thoughts. The huge
font of clean water made me think I was drowning until I realized that I could actually stand on the bottom of the tub. Benches for sitting and washing had been built into the corners, making the bath a place where one could relax and daydream. Like a guilty pleasure.

  A young girl no more than twelve poured hot water from a pitcher. She leaned over the edge of the tub, sprinkling a bowl of white granules that made the water lush with bubbles and foam, which helped me hide the red slashes on my skin. Next, she took another bowl of soap and washed my hair, scrubbing with more energy than I thought she was capable at first.

  “Rinse,” she commanded, swishing her soapy hands.

  I closed my eyes and went under the surface as if I were swimming in a river. This was the first time I’d washed my hair in something other than a bowl of perfumed well water, and the sensation was oddly sensuous.

  Esther and Leila insisted I put on one of the temple dresses while my own dress was taken away to be properly cleaned.

  My hair was tied up on my head with a jeweled clip while it dried. A silk dress the color of a maroon sunset floated down over my shoulders. The gown brushed the floor with such lightness, it was almost like wearing nothing at all. So this was how those beautiful dresses the girls had been wearing at the dancing grove felt against their bodies.

  Stabs of guilt pierced at me for the desire I had of wanting to experience the wearing of such a dress. For wearing such finery while Falail had just lost her father and Aunt Judith had to bury her husband. It pained me not to be with them. But it hurt more to have been thrust out of the camp. My mother would never have allowed it. She would have believed me about Horeb. Trusted me, just like my grandmother did.

  Sitting me at a table in front of a mirror, Esther fixed tendrils of curls at my neck, and then added an extra jeweled clip at my ear.

  “Are you training to be a priestess?” I asked her.

  She smiled. “Of course. It’s a privilege to worship the goddess every day and serve her.”

  “But Ashtoreth is just a marble statue. A story. A myth.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “No different than your god of the desert.”

  I met her steely gaze and shook my head as she continued. It was no use arguing with her; she’d never understand the people of Abraham.

  “You’ll experience the power and joy of Ashtoreth tonight,” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders and speaking softly into my ear. “Now that you’re well, you’ll get to see the dancing, Jayden. Through the temple dance, we take part in the act of creation and harvest, and through the Sacred Marriage Rite, we ensure continued blessings from our goddess.”

  I shook my head. “No, I can’t.”

  “Please, Jayden, just this once,” Leila pleaded with me. “Tonight I get to be part of it. I get to become part of Ashtoreth’s power and divinity.” She stared at me with pleading eyes, and I felt myself wanting to please her so she wouldn’t run away from me forever. “We haven’t danced, you and I, since your betrothal celebration months and months ago. You’ll see that there’s nothing to be afraid of. There’s only loveliness and peace.”

  My sister took my arm and led me back upstairs into the main temple hall. The drums and the melodies—all the elements of the dance washed over me as I stared at the sanctuary, which was unlike anything I’d ever imagined. Airy, open ceilings gazed into the twilight and early-evening stars. Spacious marble floors caressed my feet.

  Sumptuous chairs and torch sconces were wreathed in hot-red roses and tight, pink buds. Elaborate tables overflowed with plums and dates, melons and pomegranates, smoked meats carved into thin slices and laid onto platters. Fat loaves of braided bread fresh from the ovens were piled into baskets, honey and butter ready to slather.

  The wealth was overpowering and heady. I felt dizzy, drinking in everything, my mouth watering.

  A stunning woman glided over the polished floor like a cat on silent paws. She was a poem in silk and jewels, thick, ebony hair falling to her knees, glittering as though gold dust had been sprinkled through each strand.

  “So this is Jayden,” she said. “I’m Armana, the High Priestess of Ashtoreth. Welcome to our abode, my dear.” Her voice was hypnotic and lovely. She wasn’t as young as the other priestesses, but neither was she old, appearing ageless as time itself. “We look forward to seeing you dance tonight, too.”

  Nerves clenched at my belly. “I don’t think—”

  The High Priestess waved away my words. “The dance will soothe you after so much loss and illness. I used to be a girl of the desert long ago, too.”

  “Oh!” This gorgeous woman had grown up in the deserts? It didn’t seem possible.

  She glided away as the music began, before I could ask her what tribe she belonged to. I tried to shake off the unnerving foreboding as the gilt-edged doors of the high-ceilinged room opened. Girls and young women entered, dressed in flowing silk and linen sheaths, flowers in their hair, pomegranate color staining their lips. The flutist played a series of high, quivering notes, and then the drumming began.

  The music was irresistible and Leila pulled me into the circle. The polished floors felt magnificent under my feet, but I missed the tug of the desert sands sifting through my bare toes. Intoxicating beauty surrounded me, but I couldn’t forget the walls of my tent and the intimate smiles of my friends and family, the people who used to love me.

  Light from dozens of small windows threw shafts of fading yellow against the walls of the torch-lit ballroom. The lifelike statues created from stone and clay sat watching from their pedestals and niches, seeming to dance along with us.

  On the far side of the hall stood the Goddess of Ashtoreth on her stone pedestal. Crafted from fine, white marble, she prevailed over the temple, willowy and majestic. Trays of sumptuous food had been laid at her feet. Queenly purple and ruby-red silks draped her sculpted, perfect, and sensuous body.

  Shivering with the music thrumming through my own body, I trembled with the pulsing of the beat. At Hakak’s wedding, I’d been too self-conscious to dance freely, to ignore all the watching guests around me. Especially because Horeb spent his time leering at me. It had been a long time since I’d felt the sheer power of the dance.

  The music filled me with a desire to reach for the heavens, to yearn for eternity. An eternity with Kadesh.

  Under the open-air roof overhead, the sky was filled with a shower of dazzling stars.

  And I danced. As if I’d never danced before. As though I’d never dance again.

  The music from the drums and harp and lyre swept me under, filling my nostrils and lungs with a passion that made me ache in every fiber of my being. Just when I was about to weep with the intensity of the drowning music, I felt as though Kadesh was with me at my side, touching my hand, whispering in my ear. His fingers were sure and strong even as I trembled with the love I had for him.

  I closed my eyes, seeing my mother behind my eyelids, and those days in the future when I would teach Sahmril the ancient, beautiful dance. Emotion trickled down my cheeks at my aching, empty arms.

  Leila took my hands and we danced with the long line of my ancestor mothers who had come before us. I tried to picture their faces as I circled my hips and lifted my hands to the sky.

  Using my fingers, I traced their stories, bringing the beauty of the desert and the mountains into this palace of wealth and perfume. The drums beat faster, and my hips moved into the final quivering shimmies.

  When the music slowed and softened, the beating drums no longer quite so wild, I opened my eyes and found myself in the center of the dusky room.

  Leila came toward me and brushed at the tears on my cheeks. “Why are you crying, Jayden?” she asked softly. “Isn’t it beautiful and exhilarating?”

  “As lovely as it is, I refuse to cross the doorway into this world,” I told her. “I will never worship the idol Goddess of Ashtoreth.”

  My sister just smiled at me the way she always had. “But you already did! You were worshipping her during the e
ntire dance, and now we will finish our worship with the Sacred Marriage Rite. Ashtoreth and Ba’al will consummate their union and power and divinity tonight. Look at all the worshippers who’ve come, Jayden.”

  My stomach dropped as I looked around the dusky marble hall filled with the watching citizens of Tadmur, who had come to enjoy the final harvest ceremonial dancing. I had no idea the public was invited, that I’d be dancing for strangers.

  As I gazed along the walls while the audience clapped their appreciation for our performance, I realized with clarity that the citizens of Tadmur who came to watch the temple priestesses weren’t made up of families and friends enjoying a dance on an early autumn evening.

  There were only men standing along the walls, applauding the presentation. Shame raced up my neck and face. I’d been stared at by strangers. By a room full of gawking men as they watched our bodies move freely to the music and drumbeats. Gazed at my legs and hips and breasts beneath a layer of maroon silk.

  Putting my hands to my face, my skin burned with horror. I was still attempting to catch my breath, my thighs shaking from the final dance, and wondered how I could have blocked out the world so deeply. I hadn’t been aware of who lurked in the shadows of the marble-columned sanctuary.

  I heard myself let out a moan as I wondered which direction would take me to the exit. There were so many doors. I couldn’t move, couldn’t hear past the blood pounding in my ears.

  Esther’s voice whispered behind me, “Armana is pleased with the worship you gave Ashtoreth. There are visitors who want to choose you for their partner in the Sacred Marriage Rite. Would you like to feel the rush of Ashtoreth’s divinity in your body and soul tonight?”

  I sucked in my breath as tears burned the corners of my eyes. “Oh, please, dear God in heaven, tell me that I wasn’t worshipping Ashtoreth!”

  Esther merely smiled. I took in her kohl-rimmed eyes and the chains of jewels dripping from her forehead. A man, big and dark-skinned, with rings in his ears and nose, stepped up to claim her for the Sacred Marriage Rite.