Crown in the Stars

by Kacy Barnett-Gramckow

  Other women set their offerings adrift behind Shoshannah’s, keening in ritualized wails. Shoshannah watched the fiery boats and listened to the wails, suddenly mesmerized, feeling as if her mother’s story had come alive before her eyes.

  My mother stood in this mire. Somewhere nearby, she and Zekaryah had pulled Lawkham from the river and mourned with her attendants. They had carried Lawkham’s body through the streets of the Great City to his grieving family. I’ma, how awful that must have been for you, and for Father. She ached to think of them, and of the young Lawkham and his family. Lawkham had been a bit older than Kal…

  Whispers arose behind Shoshannah now, tiny exclamations of horrified delight. Curious, Shoshannah turned. Three women stood at the river’s edge, separate from the crowd, two holding flaring torches, another, tiny and pretty, hugging herself vulnerably. I’ma-Meherah.

  Amazed, Shoshannah waded out of the river, rushing toward her adoptive grandmother, who held out her arms.

  “Shoshannah-child…”

  As the women behind them crowded nearer, Shoshannah hugged Meherah and kissed her, gladdened and grieved. “I was just thinking of you… of your whole family.”

  “Here I am, child,” Meherah said fondly, as if they had been together from Shoshannah’s infancy. “And I won’t leave your side until you’re safe again.”

  Surprised, Shoshannah pulled back, studying Meherah’s tender, bright-eyed face. “Who told you I was here?”

  “The Young Lord’s guardsmen. And my own daughters. They heard rumors in the streets today—so I would have come no matter what. Though I usually don’t.”

  For Shoshannah alone, Meherah whispered, “They don’t mourn my son; they offer tributes to someone they’ve imagined.” Raising her voice, Meherah said, “These are two of your own aunts, Hadarah and Chayeh.”

  “You look so much like your mother,” Hadarah sighed, holding her torch safely out of range as they embraced in greeting.

  From behind them a woman cried, “Meherah, come away from the water!”

  “Peletah, you timid thing,” Meherah scolded her loudly, warmly. “Come meet my Shoshannah-child!”

  Feeling safer now, Shoshannah followed Meherah up the riverbank, where the robust Peletah and the other women crowded around them, chattering, obviously enjoying the scene tremendously. They reentered the Great City together, singing, laughing. The merchant wives offered Shoshannah honey cakes, spiced meats, drinks, and fruits. And they taught her the tiny gliding-skipping steps of their dances, lit by countless lamps, tapers, and torches.

  Forcing down her resentment at the lies they had recited about her mother, Shoshannah danced, smiled, and talked with the women and girls of the city. But she deliberately ignored Perek, Adoniyram, and his guardsmen, who watched her from the shadows.

  Adoniyram secretly admired Shoshannah as she danced. She was lovely and delightfully unassuming, winning the affections of the city’s matrons and daughters as he’d hoped. They would honor her because of this night. That will infuriate my mother. And antagonize our Lord Kuwsh… It would also provoke the increasingly unstable Rab-Mawg to insist that Shoshannah must fulfill her mother’s vows. Unfortunately, it would also help Ra-Anan’s popularity, for he was sheltering the girl, and he had presumably allowed her to come here tonight. But I will find some way to deal with you, Master-Uncle, as I have dealt with the others …

  It had been so easy to subtly encourage his own unwitting gossip-loving servants to spread this thought in the market street: that Shoshannah should join these women tonight. The risk to Shoshannah had been worth the result. Beloved, he thought, eyeing Shoshannah from beneath his lashes, we will win.

  “Aw, what a stench! I say we should scrub them first!” the guardsman Ye’uwsh complained, his scraggly, squared brown face contorted, grimacing as he tightened the ropes around Kaleb’s and Tiyrac’s wrists. “They’ll kill half the city.”

  Kaleb scoffed amiably, though he secretly hoped Ye’uwsh’s complaints would persuade the others—a ducking in the river sounded like bliss. “Are you going to scrub me, Ye’uwsh? Hey, maybe you can pick the bugs from my hair!”

  “No,” Ghid’ohn said, half grinning at Kal’s taunt, “we’ll lead them into the Great City, stinking to the heavens like the animals they are. As for the rest of you, shave and clean yourselves. We don’t want anyone to say that we look like these two.”

  While Kaleb tried to ignore the torment of clean water so close by, Tiyrac growled beneath his breath, writhing miserably, chafing at the cords that bound them. “I itch! Augh! You owe me for this, Kal.”

  “I know. But at least we’ll have everyone’s attention—and that’s what we want.”

  “Anything, if it’ll get me a bath!”

  “I hope Shoshannah won’t see me this way.”

  “I hope she does.”

  “What are you going to do with them?” Dibriy asked Ghid’ohn, prying for information as usual.

  Not trusting the sinewy, nosy Dibriy for an instant, Ghid’ohn said brusquely, “I’ll do exactly what I was commanded to do. Now go scrub and shave.”

  Whom do you serve? Ghid’ohn wondered. Master Ra-Anan? Lord Kuwsh? Our Queen of the Heavens, or the Young Lord? Whoever it was, Dibriy would spill all the information he had gathered. Therefore, Ghid’ohn was determined that there wouldn’t be much to spill, except for the knowledge of these two stinking monsters they had dragged in from the steppes. Ghid’ohn wished he could trade these two mountain dwellers to the highest bidder. I’d be rich.

  Yawning, Shoshannah sat with Demamah just inside the cool, dim house, wearily picking through heaps of dried lentils and peas. “I wish I could have a nap.”

  “You’ll sleep well tonight,” Demamah comforted her. “But that’s the last time Mother lets you out for a festival. She’s upset that you returned without your sandals.”

  “I had blisters from dancing; my feet hurt so badly that I removed the sandals. My Aunt Hadarah promised to hold them. Or maybe it was Aunt Chayeh; I don’t remember. I should have tied them to my sash.”

  “Mm-hmm, that’s true,” Demamah agreed. Smiling, she cast a sidelong look into the sunlit courtyard, watching Ra-Anan, who was listening to the architects present their ideas for the final stages of their grand tower. “At least Father was pleased with you.”

  Yes, but that will encourage him to hand me over to the next rowdy gathering. And then I might not return safely. Reluctantly, Shoshannah considered thanking Adoniyram for his apparent protection last night. But something about his conduct during the festivities had unsettled her—and it wasn’t just his blatant flirting with all those young girls. He had been so calm and unsurprised to see her amid the crowd…

  Zeva’ah entered the main room now, smiling, the fringed crimson-and-cream wool garment in her arms. “I should still be angry about your sandals, Shoshannah, but you and Demamah did such fine work on this fabric that I find myself excusing you.”

  “Thank you, Aunt,” Shoshannah murmured, picking through the lentils. She was going to hear about the sandals for months if they weren’t returned, she was sure. Please, Hadarah, or Chayeh, don’t forget to return them!

  “And,” Zeva’ah continued, “you impressed the women of the city; they’re sending little gifts to you. Food mostly, which I’ve sent to Tabbakhaw in the kitchen. So, obviously—despite your objections—you enjoyed yourself after all.”

  “Once I knew I would survive,” Shoshannah replied, in what she hoped was a teasing tone. Once I’ma-Meherah was with me… yes, then I had fun. I was with some of my own family again.

  Zeva’ah clearly resented Shoshannah’s teasing. Throwing her a sharp look, she smoothed the fabric in her arms and changed the subject. “The next garment you make should match this; I’ll arrange for more crimson. But you should make it of even finer thread.”

  There was a brief commotion at the gate as Perek and some guardsmen streamed inside, bowed, and knelt, waiting for Ra-Anan to finish his meeting. Shoshannah lo
oked away, uninterested. Ra-Anan’s dealings with his guardsmen were usually dull and dominated by her uncle’s own unchallenged commands.

  She continued her sorting, listening to her aunt’s preferences in threads and colors, while stifling the impulse to yawn again.

  Then Demamah gasped, “Oh! Look at those two coming in now—they’re at least as big as Perek!”

  “And filthy,” Zeva’ah said, shocked, moving closer to the door to stare at the two men who had offended her. “Surely they aren’t being considered as guardsmen.”

  Shoshannah glanced at the two men, then gaped, clutching handfuls of dried lentils. The bound, grimy, thick-bearded, skin-crawlingly unkempt man now kneeling before Ra-Anan was Tiyrac—dear, grumbling, mush-hearted Tiyrac! And just beyond him, hands also bound, was… Kal.

  She almost said his name aloud. But the word stopped in her throat, she was so badly shocked. They were here. Kal was here. And scruffy, with an oily, hacked, uncombed mane. How could this be her usually tidy, al-most-vain-of-his-hair Kaleb? What’s happened to you?

  Think! She scolded herself, rubbing the lentils from her sweating palms. Kal and Tiyrac would never willingly go anywhere looking so awful, not even to a waste pit. She studied her beloved and his brother again, touched and tortured by their captivity. You’ve done this on purpose. For me. I wish you hadn’t, but I am so glad to see you!

  She was grateful that Zeva’ah and Demamah were so fascinated by the two filthy apparitions in their courtyard that they were ignoring her completely. While they stared, Shoshannah calmed herself, listening hard.

  “You are brothers,” Ra-Anan said, arrogant, looking as if he smelled something putrid. “Move back, then tell me your names.”

  Tiyrac scooted backward on his knees, then answered unwillingly, “Tiyrac.”

  “And I am Kaleb, the younger,” Kal said, his sociable voice at odds with his loathsome appearance.

  “What tribe are you from?”

  “We’ve been disowned,” Kaleb answered, still pleasant. “We have no tribe.”

  Ra-Anan frowned. “Why?”

  “Fighting. Too many complaints about our behavior.”

  “At least they simply disowned you,” Ra-Anan said pointedly. “Here, we are not so merciful if you break the rules. You have no wives?”

  “No,” Tiyrac said, abrupt.

  Kaleb shrugged, wonderfully casual. “My beloved is somewhere; I think her family is hiding her from me.”

  Hearing this, Shoshannah nearly choked—delighted that he was able to enjoy himself, filth and all. Ra-Anan eyed Kaleb darkly. “You need not concern yourself with her now; you will both be in my service until I dismiss you.”

  “Your men have my horse,” Kaleb said. “I go with him.”

  “Shut up about your horse,” Tiyrac growled. Facing Ra-Anan, he demanded, “What if we want to leave?” “You won’t be leaving.”

  “Meaning you’ll keep us here against our will?”

  “You’ll prefer to stay. If you don’t, we send others to find you. And if we find you, then you’ll both suffer,” Ra-Anan informed them, looking aggravated. He was also recoiling slightly, his thin nostrils twitching.

  A persistent outcry from the street stopped the interrogation. A lean, dignified guardsman opened the gate, spoke to an unseen person outside, accepted something, then shut the gate again. His dignity fading, the guardsman dangled Shoshannah’s just-returned sandals from his fingertips, obviously not knowing what to do with them.

  “There are your sandals,” Zeva’ah sniffed to Shoshannah. “Go get them, then come right back.”

  “Yes, Aunt.” Nervously Shoshannah stepped forward, bowed politely to her uncle, and accepted her sandals from the discomfited guardsman, thanking him. She was aware of Kaleb’s presence the whole time. When she dared to glance at him, she saw that he and Tiyrac were openmouthed, frankly scandalized by her one-shouldered linen gown. But then Kal’s eyes gleamed suddenly, clearly plotting mischief.

  “Do you always let your women walk around half naked?” he asked Ra-Anan, sounding completely amazed and naïve.

  He was pretending, Shoshannah knew, but he still made her flush self-consciously. She wanted to throw her sandals at him.

  Ra-Anan stared at Kaleb for a long instant, then sneered and spoke to the other guardsmen. “Be sure these animals are clean, properly clothed, and polite before presenting them to me again. Get them out of here.”

  The guardsmen all grimaced and turned their faces as they hauled Kal and Tiyrac away, shoving them roughly. Shoshannah knew that if either brother did anything wrong, he’d be punished severely. Perhaps killed. Behave! she begged Kal silently. To the Most High, she prayed, Be with them, please …

  She strained as much as she dared to watch them departing through the gate. There was no mistaking Kaleb’s jaunty walk; he was enjoying himself and planning more mischief. Trembling, heartsick, Shoshannah went back to sorting the lentils.

  Zeva’ah turned away from the door, indignant. “Half naked indeed!”

  “Did you see her?” Kaleb hissed to Tiyrac, still awestruck by his unexpected glimpse of Shoshannah.

  “I saw her,” Tiyrac muttered. “And it was enough. Control yourself.”

  “No wonder your beloved is gone,” Ghid’ohn told Kaleb grimly. “You probably insulted her every time you opened your mouth. Now you’re going to have a bath.”

  “A what?” Kaleb asked, pretending ignorance again, making Tiyrac glare at him.

  “A bath,” Ye’uwsh said, shoving him forward. “Something you’ve never had before. The nearest mud puddle will improve you, I’m sure.”

  Vastly relieved, Kaleb sighed. This day had proven better than he’d dared to hope. Despite the shock of her face paints and bare shoulder and arms, Shoshannah looked perfectly beautiful and well cared for. And she had seemed concerned; her heart was unchanged toward him. Elated, he blessed the Most High.

  He decided to quarrel—just a little—about having a bath.

  Seventeen

  “YOU—KALEB—LOOK,” the guardsman-turned-stablehand Dibriy complained. “You’ve missed a pile. Clean it up!”

  I haven’t reached that stall yet, Kal answered silently, scooping the manure. If you hadn’t been slapping your lips together all morning, you would have noticed that I’ve been working in a pattern.

  Kaleb worked for Dibriy and the other guardsmen as he had always worked for Zekaryah: willingly, remembering that by proving himself trustworthy with small, unpleasant tasks, he would eventually be granted more agreeable responsibilities. His goal was to guard Shoshannah. Or at least to tend her horse officially. He had already found Ma’khole, who was too fat now but otherwise healthy. The little mare had recognized Kaleb, bumping him in greeting; Shoshannah would be pleased. If only he could tell her.

  Perhaps today I’ll see her. This hope—and the alluring memory of her in that new gown—made captivity bearable. But he had been watching for days without seeing her, much less speaking to her. And there were other problems. He wasn’t allowed to talk with Tiyrac, and he was separated from Khiysh.

  Most High, he thought, trying not to complain, let me see a way to get out of this Great City alive with Shoshannah and Tiyrac and the horses. There must be a way.

  As soon as Kaleb had finished spreading the stalls with fresh straw and grasses and filling the troughs with water, Dibriy commanded, “Weaponry. Now.”

  Weaponry. Grimacing, Kal retrieved his “weapon”—a blunted pole—from a corner of the stable. This was a toddler’s weapon. And his weaponry instructor, that Perek, wasn’t much more impressive. He was volatile and blindly devoted to their Master Ra-Anan. So now we’re going to dance around in the mud and I’ll pretend to learn what I already know.

  “Do you think you’re clever?” Perek sneered at the end of their “lesson,” gouging Kal with a pole. “You couldn’t defeat a dung heap!”

  And I think you see me as a threat, Kaleb decided. That’s why you’re harassing me constantl
y. He reminded himself to be patient. For Shoshannah. Clenching his jaw, he endured Perek’s taunts.

  Perek stalked, swatted, prodded, mocked, and smacked at Kal the whole way to the gate of Ra-Anan’s courtyard. Kaleb cast sidelong glances at Perek’s shadow behind him as they walked, gauging Perek’s movements, bracing himself for each blow.

  Perek, you’re a horse dropping.

  He saw the shadow of the next strike coming and gritted his teeth; Perek jabbed his blunted pole into Kal’s rump, making him yelp. Around them, all the guardsmen snickered. Enough.

  Judging Perek’s position, Kaleb pivoted, ducked, and slammed an end of his own weapon into Perek’s groin. Perek dropped onto the damp street, screeching horribly. The other guardsmen froze. Seeing their shock, Kaleb said, “I didn’t intend to hit him quite that low. Perhaps he doesn’t want children.”

  As a crowd of citizens gathered to stare and laugh, the other guardsmen hastily grabbed the anguished Perek by his arms, dragging him inside the gate, where they were supposed to present themselves to their Master Ra-Anan. Kaleb followed, trying to guess what sort of punishment the master might inflict upon him.

  Ra-Anan emerged from his residence, studied Perek’s curled-up form on the courtyard pavings, and frowned.

  “Who did this?”

  Bowing politely as he’d been taught, Kaleb knelt. “I did, Master Ra-Anan—in self-defense.”

  Perek managed to pull himself upright, shaking his head in denial, rasping thinly, “An… unprovoked attack!”

  When no one else denied this lie, Kaleb thought, So, I

  get blamed.

  Master Ra-Anan’s deep-set hooded eyes narrowed, almost closing. “My men never strike one another. You are undisciplined and rebellious.”

  “Perek attacked me first,” Kal explained. “The others are afraid to tell the truth. Perhaps you should question them in secret.”

  Dangerously quiet, Master Ra-Anan asked, “Do I take orders from you?”