Forbidden

by Kimberley Griffiths Little

“It’s breathtaking,” I gasped, drinking it all in as we approached the valley. The world before us stretched like an expanse of gold silk, the Euphrates River wide and thunderous as it wove through harvested lands of grain and corn, orchards of fruit trees and vineyards of grapes.

  “Have you been here before?”

  “Of course,” Kadesh said, smiling at me. “I know a safe inn where we can stay, if we don’t find Dinah and her husband right away.”

  Our camels stood side by side as we stared out at the enormous valley. In the very center was the city of Mari, like an enchanted mirage before my eyes. The city had been built in a circle with high stone walls surrounding the entire perimeter, and the river winding through the center.

  “On either side of the wall are two sets of gates,” Kadesh said, flicking his reins to start our camels up again. “That straight line of water cutting the city in half is a canal. They’ve built levies and retaining walls to steer the course of the Euphrates directly into the city for easy access. No need for digging wells and creating cisterns. No going outside the safety of the city to get water. Brilliant, isn’t it?”

  I nodded in awe, steering my camel over a patch of rocks and back onto the trail as we hit the sloping foothills. “It looks quiet, not like there’s a siege going on at all.”

  “From a distance, it can be deceiving. But do you see those camps?” he asked, pointing to the north. “Those are the troops of Hammurabi.”

  “Why did he invade? My father told me once that Mari’s King Zimrilim and Hammurabi of Babylon were allies, so this war makes no sense.”

  “That is all in the past. Now Hammurabi wants to control the entire state of Mesopotamia—and Zimrilim isn’t strong enough to keep him out. Just like his father, who was assassinated in a coup several years ago, King Zimrilim underestimated the need for a bigger army. He spent more time building his palace than his protection.”

  Kadesh pointed down below. “See those shining pools of water and the maze of stone walls surrounded by the biggest cluster of trees—right in the middle of the city? That is the royal palace compound.”

  Our magnificent view disappeared as the trail descended out of the hills and we drew closer to the city. All I could see now were the high walls and battlements and the specks of soldiers surrounding the fortress city. “What if we can’t get in?” I asked softly.

  Kadesh’s face appeared calm, but I could see a touch of worry in his eyes. “Even though Mari has been under siege for several months now, it appears as though people are beginning to move in and out more freely.”

  When we approached the gates, I made sure my face and head were covered and didn’t speak a word, but I caught the grim tension of the soldiers as they examined our camels and inspected our packs of food and supplies. When they questioned Kadesh about our business, their tone was brusque. After telling them we were visiting relatives, the guards fell silent when Kadesh supplied them with coins. The massive wooden gates, studded with brass, finally opened, and we entered the occupied city of Mari.

  As we rode through the streets, an edgy atmosphere filled the air, giving me an unsettling sense of trepidation. Street after street was filled with shops and inns and drinking houses. The marketplace bustled with people and trading, just like Tadmur, but the neighborhoods were much more subdued, as though people were afraid of being stopped and questioned.

  “Mari has always been the biggest trading post along the Euphrates,” Kadesh said quietly. “People come from up and down the river, from as far south in Babylon, or from the north beyond Nineveh to buy, sell, and trade goods and animals.”

  Even as he spoke, I watched scraggly chickens and mangy dogs roaming the poorer alleyways. When the streets narrowed even more, Kadesh and I climbed down from our camels and walked beside them, holding tight to the halters.

  “Let’s find a place near the canals to water our animals,” Kadesh said. “The plaza should also be close by, within sight of the Temple of Inanna. We’ll get information about Mari’s citizens more easily at the plaza. If Dinah is here, we’ll find her. And Sahmril.”

  Kadesh’s instincts were right. While I watered the camels at the wells, dragging bucket after bucket up with the hand crank, I watched him under the hood of my cloak as he made careful, guarded talk with the older women who came to the canal. Women who’d lived in Mari their entire lives, and knew their neighbors and all the gossip.

  The soldiers on horseback marching the streets made me uneasy. Guards and sentries were posted along every corner, watching the citizens for any uprising.

  Babylon was rumored to be the largest and most dazzling city of the ages, but no one knew how ruthless King Hammurabi might become to achieve his goals of total Mesopotamian domination. Mari had become a tense and dangerous place.

  I sat on a stone near the well as our animals drank. Kadesh disappeared into the crowds. A chill crept over me and I tried to focus on the camels, petting their noses, keeping them out of trouble.

  “Kadesh,” I whispered, terror striking at me when he didn’t return for an hour.

  Trickles of perspiration dripped down my face. He’d probably stepped into one of the shops, but it was hard not to panic. I pulled at the camels’ tethers, trying to get them to obey me, but they were stubborn.

  “Come!” I yelled, finally getting them to move from the well. I stood with them for nearly another hour in front of a rug and brass merchant, trying to ignore the patrolling soldiers with their swords and clubs.

  I felt the edge of my own dagger under the belt of my skirt, and my gut tightened. Kadesh had told me that the citizens’ arms had been confiscated with the invasion.

  He was suddenly at my elbow, and relief flooded me. “Where have you been?”

  “I think I’ve found them,” he whispered.

  Instantly, I went still. “Are you sure?”

  “My stores of silver are dangerously low. I’m nearly broke from all the bribes I’ve been passing out.”

  “Looking for someone?” the merchant suddenly said behind us, shrewdly studying the signs of Kadesh’s clan on the decorations of his camel. “I can help you. Business is slow.”

  “Thank you, sir, but I believe I’ve found my long-lost aunt and cousins.”

  “That girl your sister?” the man asked, staring hard at me.

  I pulled my shawl closer and didn’t say a word. My accent was different from Kadesh’s and would give me away.

  “Yes, sir, she’s been ill. We lost our small herd to raiders and have been searching for our relatives, who headed this direction at the end of the spring season.”

  The man pursed his lips and spat on the ground. “If you need anything, just ask for me, Romuel. My price is good.”

  “Thank you for your kind offer.” Bowing his head, Kadesh clucked at the camels, pulling them to a crossroad of streets and alleys. I was careful not to look back.

  In the midst of the crush, I said, “Tell me! What do you know?”

  Kadesh kept his face forward. “Nothing’s certain yet, but one of the women at the well took me to her sister, who has a neighbor who knows everybody. There’s a section of town for new immigrants. Within that area, there’s a group of tribal people. That’s our best chance of finding Shem and Nalla and your cousins.”

  After we found the neighbor of the sister, Kadesh asked about the newer residents. I stood again with the camels, closing my eyes against fatigue, swaying on my feet.

  “I’ve got some leads,” Kadesh said when he came out of the door of the tiny house. I crept closer, tired of the crowds, weary after two weeks of travel, and worried that we’d come all this way and learn that Shem’s family had fled the city before the siege.

  It was twilight when Kadesh knocked on the tenth door, each one leading us closer and closer, but never quite the correct house. “This is the last for today. We need to find a place to sleep.”

  A platoon of soldiers clattered down the street, swords clanging. They were yelling something I couldn’t unde
rstand, so fierce I wanted to jump out of my skin. “What’s happening?” I cried softly.

  “There’s a curfew,” Kadesh said. “We need to get off the streets or we’ll be arrested. Come this way!”

  We darted down another alley, and I lost count of how many twists and turns we’d made. At last, Kadesh knocked on a door at the end of a row of single-story buildings with low roofs and sagging doorframes. Two soldiers spotted us and galloped forward. Kadesh knocked harder and the door finally creaked open.

  “What do you want?” a woman’s voice muttered. “It’s after curfew. We’ll all be arrested—go away!”

  Kadesh’s voice was strong despite the nervousness of the woman. “I’m looking for the house of Shem. It’s urgent that we find him.”

  “How do you know the family of Shem?” The woman’s dark eyes were all we could see as she started to close the door again.

  I pressed forward, recognizing the voice. “No, don’t shut us out! Nalla, is that you? Please, Nalla, let us in! The soldiers are upon us.”

  I heard the woman give a startled gasp and the door creaked open a few more inches. “Jayden?”

  “Yes, yes, it’s me!”

  The soldiers began shouting at us and drew their swords as we tumbled into the house and Nalla slammed the door behind us.

  I blinked into the dimness of the quarters. The room was small and close and hot. A smell of rotting vegetables and smokiness permeated the tiny house.

  Nalla stared at us; then she embraced me quickly and pulled back again. “Setting eyes on you is like seeing a ghost, Jayden. Where did you come from?”

  “From Tadmur, the summer oasis.”

  She shook her head, sinking to a stool. “But Mari is a long ways from Tadmur. Isn’t the tribe on their way south back to the winter lands by now?”

  “Yes,” I said softly. “They probably are.”

  “And you’re not with them?” Suspicion lined Nalla’s face. “Where are your father and Leila? And why aren’t you with your husband, Horeb?”

  “Much has happened, Nalla,” I said quietly. “Horeb and I are not married . . . yet. I haven’t seen him or my father since they left on a raid months ago. And Leila . . . She is living at the Temple of Ashtoreth.”

  The woman’s expression crumpled with shock and pity as she grasped my hands. “It’s been a hard year for your family, Jayden. I’m so sorry. You have changed, too. You look so much older, wiser somehow. And even more beautiful, just like your mother.”

  I tried not to weep at her words. “That means so much to me, Nalla. Thank you.”

  “But why are you with the stranger from the southern lands? Your father will disown you, and so will Horeb.”

  Politely, Kadesh bowed, murmuring, “Please believe that we mean you no harm or trouble.”

  “It’s not right to travel, unmarried, with another man, Jayden. Your reputation is ruined, your future destroyed.”

  “We are traveling as brother and sister. Kadesh accompanies me so that I can find my sister safely and bring her home. I’m looking for Sahmril. Where is she? I’m here to take her back with me.”

  Nalla flinched and turned away, poking at the small fire, adding a few sticks to the blaze. The rest of the small house was so dark I had no idea who might be lurking in the back rooms, and the unknown put me on edge. Kadesh paced the floor, glancing into the back hall, his fist on the hilt of his sword.

  “I’ve been so desperate to get her back, you know. I promised my mother I would raise her.”

  Nalla raised her head from the fire. “My husband, Shem, was conscripted to Hammurabi’s army. I only see him once a week, every ten days. Dinah’s husband”—she stopped, and I could tell that grief was overwhelming her—“Dinah’s husband—was killed in the first raid on Mari. Mistaken for one of King Zimrilim’s soldiers.”

  I barely had time to register my stunned shock at the terrible news when the rear door flew open and Dinah herself strode through. She looked exactly the same as I remembered. Pinched, thin face, greasy hair pulled away from her brow. “So it’s you my mother is talking to,” she said, staring at me coldly.

  My mouth went dry. Grief pervaded the thick air of the house. A sense of anger and hopelessness. “Please accept my deepest condolences. I’m so sorry, Dinah.” I paused. “So you are now two women alone, trying to survive in a war-torn city.”

  Dinah’s voice was severe. “I don’t expect you to care a bit for our loss.”

  “Of course I do—” Then I noticed the jewelry hanging from Dinah’s neck, the feathery silver earrings dangling from her ears. My jewelry. The jewelry that my parents sacrificed to purchase for me. I wanted to rip it from her neck, but instead I became dizzy. It was too warm in here. The day had been much too long and frenzied after our weeks of travel. The floor seemed to rush up toward my eyes and I trembled with fatigue.

  Kadesh’s arm was suddenly supporting me, keeping me on my feet. “Sit here,” he said.

  “Yes, please sit,” Nalla said, bringing two stools. “I don’t have much, and we have no extra beds.”

  “I will sleep with my camels,” Kadesh assured her.

  “Sahmril.” Her name burst from my mouth. “I want to see her! It’s been so long and we’ve come such a long ways. I’ve missed her so. Thank you, Dinah, for all you’ve done for her. I want to take her with me. You’ll be able to focus on your own child, and not worry about Sahmril any longer.”

  Dinah licked her dry lips. “I don’t know where Sahmril is.”

  “What—what do you mean? In the desert, did she—” I stopped. The words wouldn’t come out of my mouth.

  Dinah shrugged. “I didn’t think I would see you again.”

  The room swirled around me as though she’d punched me in the chest. “You left my sister to die in the desert! How could you, after I gave you all that I owned?”

  “No!” Dinah snapped. “No, Sahmril is alive. It was my son who died in the desert. Because I was sharing my milk with your sister. And then my husband was killed. I’ve lost everything—everything, you ungrateful girl!”

  “No, no, no. Oh, Dinah, what you have suffered is too much to bear.” Tears rushed down my face. “I’m so sorry, so very sorry! But where is Sahmril? I must see her! I’m desperate to hold her.”

  The expression in Dinah’s eyes was callous. “She’s alive, but I sold her to pay for my husband’s debts and burial.”

  “What?!” I screamed. “You sold her into slavery?”

  Nalla rushed over to shake my arm. “Silence! In Mari, even the walls have ears! And our neighbors are much too close. We had no choice, Jayden,” she hissed in a low, fierce voice. “We would have been put into prison or hung for debt. Sahmril was all we had left to barter for our own lives.”

  “You sold a baby? An innocent child? To be beaten or worked to death, or—or worse!” I groaned with the horror of it, and Kadesh placed his hands on my shoulders to keep me from lunging at the woman. “How could you? You—with my jewelry around your dirty neck! You could have sold that instead! Or the camel!”

  “The camel is our only milk.”

  “You could have traded for a lesser camel instead of selling Sahmril. You selfish pig.”

  Dinah reached out and slapped my face with the back of her hand. “I am the one who has lost my family, not you,” she spat at me.

  The roaring in my ears drowned out the rest of her words. I’d lost my mother, my sisters, and my father would disown me now that I’d lived at the temple. I’d sealed my fate when I traveled to Mari as an unmarried woman with a man of another tribe. And she dared to tell me that she had lost more? I wanted to tear the room into pieces, throw their belongings into the streets, and scratch out their eyes.

  “Who did you sell her to?” I hissed. “Who bought her?”

  Sullenly, Dinah folded her arms and didn’t answer. Finally Nalla said, “A traveling merchant paid us enough for our funeral expenses. All we know about him is that he was on his way to Salem.”

&nb
sp; “Salem?” Kadesh said sharply. “That’s four hundred miles southwest from here. Near the Great Sea!”

  All my hopes and dreams of holding Sahmril in my arms had shredded into a thousand pieces. I’d come all this way for nothing. She was farther away than ever. How would I ever get to Salem? I had no money, no time, no camels. My baby sister was truly lost to me.

  24

  “I’m going to help you search for the location of the Salem merchant,” I told Kadesh after two days of sitting with Nalla and Dinah, tending to the tasks of their household in payment for a sleeping mat. “I can’t sit inside that hole of a house another moment and listen to my jewelry tinkling around her neck.”

  With only a name on the ticket of receipt, Kadesh and I set out to search for more information. The days dragged on. We’d been gone from Tadmur for three weeks now. The autumn season was full upon us, winter biting at our heels.

  On our fifth day in Mari, Kadesh and I sat on a bench near the Temple of Inanna, seeking new people to ask our questions to.

  “The city has a different mood to it,” I said, noticing furtive conversations, people more hurried than usual. The soldiers seemed even more grim than usual.

  “It’s dangerous, Jayden,” Kadesh told me, frowning. “I fear we don’t have much more time to get information before the city shuts down.”

  “But we can’t travel to Salem not knowing where the merchant lives—some sort of address or directions. All we have is a name.”

  He nodded slowly. “I have learned that the man dealt in weavings, but there are two streets in Mari with weaving stores.”

  “I can visit the shops, too, and ask questions. It will save us some time.”

  “After every shop we’ll meet and check our information,” Kadesh said. “But we need to keep in sight of each other.”

  The day was long and wearying as we visited every shop, pretending to buy a rug or a new loom or a shawl or a skein of yarn. Eventually asking questions about a merchant who had closed up shop and left for Salem with a young child.

  I talked to women, to children, and when I didn’t make a purchase the shop owner usually became impatient with me.