Hastily swallowing a sip he had taken from his cup, Lord Kuwsh laughed, his handsome face alight with pleasure at Sharah’s disgrace. “Who can argue with the truth? My son—your husband—would have said the same thing, Lady!”
“And he would have said many more things about you!” she retorted. “You’ve always been a troublemaker—and useless to this kingdom except to flaunt your wealth and order others around.”
“You’ve described yourself perfectly,” he taunted. As Sharah stiffened, he said, “Don’t even think about striking me; I would beat you, and you would deserve it.”
“You have no say over me!”
“Someone should.”
Adoniyram sighed loudly and moved as if threatening to depart. “Are we here only to exchange insults?”
Kuwsh set down his cup and studied Shoshannah. “No, we are going to discuss this troublemaker. Since she’s proven so difficult for you, Master Ra-Anan, I should take her into my household so she won’t escape again.”
“She stays here,” Ra-Anan said flatly. “I am her near kindred.”
“And I’m not?” Sharah demanded. “I insist that she come with me.”
“You’d kill her on your way home,” Ra-Anan snapped. “The Lord Kuwsh and I prefer that she remain alive for now.”
“For now,” Kuwsh agreed, sounding menacingly tranquil to Shoshannah.
Sharah swirled her cup in her hand, smiling. “Lord Kuwsh wants her alive for revenge—which is understandable. But, Ra-Anan, I don’t understand why you want her to live in your household only. You must be considering her as a second wife.”
Her suggestion was so breathtakingly horrible that Shoshannah couldn’t move. Demamah gasped aloud, and Zeva’ah actually looked at Ra-Anan.
Sharah laughed delightedly. “You should see your faces!”
“I don’t think they appreciate your joke, Mother,” Adoniyram said impatiently. “However, I wish to say that Rab-Mawg and the priests want Shoshannah to live… and to fulfill her mother’s vow to serve in the Temple of Shemesh.”
Shoshannah gaped at him, speechless. Why had he bothered to save her from Perek this morning if he only intended to hand her over to the temple—to Rab-Mawg, who was every bit as dangerous as Perek? Why are you suggesting this to them?
“I don’t think I was joking about her situation, but you must be,” Sharah told Adoniyram tartly.
“How much have you had to drink?” he asked, unperturbed.
“Not enough for you to say anything about it, ever. Now, listen to me: I don’t want this girl to be revered for anything, particularly not in my tower.”
“Your tower?” Kuwsh demanded, becoming indignant. “You’ve done nothing toward building this tower, except to say that it must be completed. You haven’t parted with any of your lands, or your gold, or your time, or your harvests…”
Beside him, the Lady Achlai quietly shifted his cup out of his reach as he scolded Sharah. Ordinarily, Shoshannah would have smiled at such a ploy, but now she was too upset.
As Lord Kuwsh and Sharah quarreled, Shoshannah stared at her traitor-cousin, Adoniyram. He ignored her. Frustrated, she glanced away, unintentionally catching her uncle’s attention. Ra-Anan held her glance, smiling unpleasantly, as the suspicious Zeva’ah watched them both.
In a loud, apparently idle tone, he said, “Tell us, Adoniyram… what do you think should happen to my guest?”
Adoniyram shrugged. “Truly, Master-Uncle, I don’t know. However—now that your horse and my guardsmen are safe—I will say that today was amusing.”
I hate you! Shoshannah thought to Adoniyram fiercely. And without looking at her uncle, she thought, Ra-Anan, you are detestable. You claim to be my protector-kinsman, but you certainly aren’t protecting me from Adoniyram and the others as you should. If you had, I wouldn’t have tried to escape.
Her anger gradually faded. And her back and arm and legs were hurting terribly now. She wished this meeting would end. Obviously nothing would be decided for her tonight—Sharah, Ra-Anan, and Kuwsh were too angry with each other to come to any agreement. Trying to ease her bruises and cuts, she shifted, wincing. The Lady Achlai turned toward her now, her wide brown face gentle with compassion.
I wish I could visit with you, and our I’ma-Meherah, Shoshannah thought sadly. I hope you pray for me. Though prayers hadn’t helped her so far.
Why didn’t your Most High save you? Ra-Anan’s voice mocked her from this morning. She felt abandoned. At least in the wilderness, out on the steppes, she would have had some say in her own fate. Here in the Great City, these gold-and linen-clad animals controlled everything. There was nothing she could do.
Adoniyram avoided Shoshannah’s gaze. If they were alone, it would have been different. He would have persuaded her that he was not her enemy. But here, surrounded by his relatives, he had no choice but to ignore her as if she didn’t matter.
Truly, she was becoming important to him. The realization made him nervous.
Be silent, he ordered her in his thoughts. Do and say nothing that will create more trouble; next time, I might not be able to save you.
Ten
“I COULDN’T BELIEVE the Lady Sharah said such a thing about you and my father,” Demamah whispered to Shoshannah. They sat on Demamah’s bed, stitching Shoshannah’s new garments, which would supplement the ones she’d half ruined during her attempted escape.
“She was ridiculous and completely wrong,” Shoshannah agreed, shuddering as she worked a sleeve.
After two weeks of punishing isolation, it was easier to discuss Sharah’s malicious opinion of Ra-Anan’s motives toward Shoshannah. And, after two weeks, Zeva’ah had apparently managed to put her own suspicions aside. She had finally spoken to Shoshannah again this morning—telling her that she couldn’t pout forever; she had to help Demamah with daily tasks and prepare for visitors who would arrive later this week.
Curious, Shoshannah wondered aloud, “Who is coming to visit?”
“I was afraid to ask,” Demamah confessed, rasping her bone needle against a sharpening stone. “I only know that we have to finish your clothes soon. Mother wants you properly attired for the visit. After this, we help with cleaning, and later cooking.”
“So our visitor is a tribal leader?”
“Most likely. Give me your word that you’ll be perfect and dull.”
Unable to resist, Shoshannah teased, “Of course. I’ll copy your every move.”
“Don’t you dare mimic me while our visitors are here. Father would beat us both.” Demamah checked a seam in the pale linen, then said, “I’m glad you haven’t lost your spirit; you’ve been so gloomy these past few days.”
“I’m bored,” Shoshannah admitted, tying down the last stitch on the sleeve. “I want to go outside, but I don’t want to see Adoniyram and his mother. Or that Rab-Mawg.”
“I don’t think he would have hurt you—he was only trying to frighten you.”
“Well, he succeeded.”
Softly, Demamah said, “Father knows you tried to escape because of Rab-Mawg.”
Easing her wrist, which still ached from the sprain, Shoshannah said, “Thank you for telling him. Is he still angry with you?”
“Not as long as I tell him your every thought. Listen: Tonight I’ll tell him that you think our Queen of the Heavens is ridiculous. And that you are gloomy and bored and longing to see your Ma’khole. I’ll also tell him that you’ve threatened to mimic me while our company is here, and I’ll complain about it just a little. That ought to satisfy him.”
“Good. I’ll hush now.”
They smiled together, like two schemers, and bent over their sewing again.
“You forgot to tell your father that I don’t want to see Rab-Mawg,” Shoshannah muttered to Demamah as they slowly followed Ra-Anan up the tower stairs the next day.
“I did tell him,” Demamah protested beneath her breath. “But he apparently wants to see how you and Rab-Mawg deal with each other now. Also, I’m sure Fa
ther believes he’s being generous, allowing you such freedom so soon after your escape. You must try to be grateful.”
“This isn’t freedom; this is punishment! I think I’ll be sick right on Rab-Mawg’s feet. That’s how I’ll deal with him.”
Demamah’s brown-black eyes became huge. “You wouldn’t.”
“I should, but I’ll control myself.” “See that you do.”
“Yes, elder sister,” Shoshannah teased. But her smile faded as she continued up the steps. Why was Ra-Anan determined to have her meet Rab-Mawg today? Couldn’t he see that the priest was dangerous? Perhaps treacherous—which made him worse than Perek, who was trailing behind them.
Shoshannah exhaled, trying to calm herself. Ra-Anan expected her to climb these stairs and enter the temple with reverence, or at least an appearance of dignity; he would punish her if she misbehaved.
Entering the golden temple, she immediately broke into a chilled sweat. This was truly a place her parents and the Ancient Ones would never want her to visit. It felt… godless. Furtively, she wiped her damp palms on her gown as Ra-Anan greeted Rab-Mawg and the three attendant-priests, who bowed, hands folded, properly dignified.
Ra-Anan nodded, saying, “You have a new student. My niece must learn the customs of our Great City, our habits and ceremonies concerning the tower, and the ways of our Shemesh. She must also learn the signs in the stars.” Emphasizing each word distinctly, Ra-Anan added, “You will overcome any objections you might have to her character… and her parentage.”
What about my objections? Shoshannah wanted to scream.
But Rab-Mawg and his fellow priests all bowed courteously. Rab-Mawg smiled. “As you say, Master Ra-Anan.”
Like one bestowing a great favor upon them, Ra-Anan said, “She will study here, properly attended, for two mornings a week, while I am meeting with the craftsmen and the builders. I will take great interest in her progress. Also, she will learn of the stars on nights when it is convenient to everyone.”
Again Rab-Mawg agreed pleasantly. Shoshannah thought he looked falsely gracious. Perhaps he was planning to kill her after all. To her despair, Ra-Anan said, “I will return by midday. Demamah, stay with her. Perek, make her behave.”
Perek bowed deeply as Ra-Anan passed him on the way out of the temple. Then he glowered at Shoshannah, obviously watching for any excuse to punish her. She flinched. Demamah put a cold hand on Shoshannah’s arm, seeming as upset as Shoshannah felt. Rab-Mawg, however, behaved serenely.
Inclining his head toward Shoshannah, he said, “Lady, this new responsibility is unexpected, but not unwelcome. You must question us if there is anything you don’t understand—that is your duty as our student. However, our sacred temple is not the place to conduct lessons. Please, come with us.”
Still courteous, Rab-Mawg led them to an unfinished brick-and-bitumen room behind the temple. Shoshannah coughed, almost pinching her nose at the acrid-sharp odor coming from a smoldering stone brazier on a brick stand. The room’s murky atmosphere wasn’t helped by the full, thickly draped curtains hiding them from the main temple and from another adjoining room. Did these priests hate fresh air?
As Shoshannah wiped her stinging eyes, Rab-Mawg spoke to the three attending priests. “Ghez-ar, Ebed, do we have any food to offer our guests? Awkawn, bring some clay and reeds to record her lessons for today.” To Demamah and Shoshannah, he murmured politely, “Please, sit and rest while you wait.”
Nauseated, Shoshannah knelt beside the silent Demamah on a fleece-padded mat. Awkawn returned swiftly, bearing a clay trough filled with soft, pliable clay. From his pale woolen belt, he produced several oddly carved reed sticks and offered one to Shoshannah. She accepted the reed and a bit of soft clay, but not the bread or meat or cup of beer provided by Ghez-ar and Ebed. Demamah, too, refused their offer of food—which the priests would rightfully interpret as mistrust.
Rab-Mawg smiled, watching Shoshannah closely. “You are still frightened as a result of your last visit here, Lady, but you need not be. I was only testing you.”
“That knife didn’t feel like a test to me,” Shoshannah said, trying to keep her voice and her gaze steady.
“Then I apologize for upsetting you.”
Seated beside Rab-Mawg, the stick-thin Ebed turned to Shoshannah, sounding wholly rational, almost kind. “We—his fellow priests—understand how formidable Rab-Mawg might appear or behave, Lady. He was testing you, but he has no intention of harming you. Nor do we.”
I don’t believe you, Shoshannah thought. I am sure you’ll turn against me like a pack of predators the instant I anger you.
Kneeling opposite her, Ghez-ar leaned forward, his eyes gleaming in the muted light. “We are pleased to talk with you, Lady. We’ve heard that you visit the Ancient Ones. And we remember your mother riding through the streets of the Great City when we were children. At the time, she terrified us.”
“But my mother isn’t a terrifying person,” Shoshannah said, bemused. “The children of our tribe love her—and she adores them. Why did you fear her?”
“We preferred to live,” Awkawn answered, his thin mouth twisting scornfully. “We were told, as boys, that her touch meant death.”
Cautious, knowing they were probably devoted to the memory of the Great-King Nimr-Rada, Shoshannah said, “That death order was not her idea, or her fault. She cried when she told me about it.”
“Yes, I heard that you objected to it your first day in the Great City,” Rab-Mawg said, his tone dismissing talk of the Lady Keren and the death order and changing the subject. “Let’s resolve one thing immediately: If you are to be our student, you must be convinced you are safe here.” He produced his knife from a fold in his sash and cut one of the flat loaves of bread into slender, precise strips. He ate a bit and offered some to Ebed, Ghez-ar, and Awkawn. Then he motioned to Shoshannah and Demamah. “Please, acknowledge peace with us. No one except Adoniyram has eaten here. We would be honored if you would share our food.”
And furious if we don’t, Shoshannah thought. Demamah took a bit of the bread. Sighing inwardly, Shoshannah copied her gesture and ate the bread. It was dry and throat-cloggingly coarse. Trying to soften it—and recklessly deciding that if they meant to kill her, she would die anyway—she accepted a sip of their beer. It was as strong as anything I’ma-Ritspah had ever brewed for Father Ashkenaz. It was worse than the bread. Her eyes watered again, and she heard Demamah sigh miserably beside her. She would have laughed if she hadn’t been so nervous. She coughed instead.
“Will you live, Lady?” Awkawn inquired, his sharp face mocking, as he stood to pass some food to the brooding Perek.
Shoshannah nodded, unable to speak. She was actually sharing food with these temple priests. And she was going to be their student. Even more amazing, they seemed almost normal. Had she been wrong about them?
“Now that we’ve settled our misunderstanding, we will begin with matters of trade,” Rab-Mawg announced, twisting a piece of clay from the trough. He kneaded the clay briefly, flattened it, then briskly wielded his reed marker. “First, the symbol for water—which is most important—is signified by wavy lines, such as these…”
He passed his marked clay to Shoshannah. Not knowing what else to do, she copied his symbol for water onto her own bit of clay. Finished, she glanced up and realized that Rab-Mawg’s three attendant-priests looked disappointed. Obviously, they had expected to talk with her about her mother. Or about the Ancient Ones and the death of Nimr-Rada.
You will have to wait, Shoshannah told them silently. Perhaps they could discuss these things during future lessons. But why did she need lessons at all, unless Ra-Anan expected her to remain in the Great City indefinitely?
“This represents a stalk of barley,” Rab-Mawg said, marking it down as soon as he received his clay from her again. “These—two lines crossing within a protective circle—are sheep. A bowl means food. And six lines, all intersected as the rays of the sun, signify the heavens. We create tokens bearing thes
e symbols for various items that are used by traders when they promise to exchange goods that must be delivered…”
He droned on, and Shoshannah struggled to remain attentive.
I’m going to be here forever.
While they descended the tower steps, Demamah whispered, “I am sorry for you—having to endure those lessons two mornings a week.”
“You won’t come with me?” Shoshannah paused, disappointed, resenting the marked clay “lesson” in her hand. “Mithqah would have accompanied me no matter what.”
“In adventures, perhaps. But not for lessons from Rab-Mawg. I’m sure your dear Mithqah would agree with me. Ormah can go with you. And Perek.”
“Oh, thank you,” Shoshannah grumbled, though she forgave Demamah instantly. Pattering down the stairs again, she asked, “Are we obligated to those priests now that we’ve eaten their food?”
“Not if Father forbids it,” Demamah said. “Though he will regard them as obligated to protect you while you’re in the temple.”
I hope they regard themselves as obligated, Shoshannah thought.
“What do you think of her?” Ghez-ar asked Rab-Mawg.
“We will see,” Rab-Mawg said, pondering the young woman’s reactions during the lesson today. She was—of course—still afraid of him. And he intended to keep her fearful and respectful if she remained in this kingdom—this priestdom. “Let her become used to our presence, and to the temple. Soon we’ll learn her true thoughts and judge her from those.”
“She looked bored during the lessons,” Ebed told them, going toward the smaller room where they slept.
Awkawn snorted contemptuously. “Of course she was bored. She’s female. We weren’t discussing babies, attire, or the preparation of food. Do we have any herbs left, Ghez-ar?”
“Yes, but we’ll need more in a few days.” He retrieved a small leather pouch and opened it to display their dwindling cache of “herbs.”
Rab-Mawg brooded, considering what they would be forced to trade from their own meager supplies to replenish their beer, incense, and the precious herbs and roots. They used these things routinely to induce the euphoria so critical to understanding the ways of the heavens. The prized euphoria was a benefit that offset their frequent bouts of boredom and frustration.
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