Crown in the Stars

by Kacy Barnett-Gramckow

  Shoshannah was worried when Ra-Anan greeted Adoniyram with a rude nod. But Adoniyram spoke to him courteously, seeming pleased with a successful hunt; his guardsmen were hauling a brace of netted, wrung ducks and, wonderfully, a fine lion’s corpse. Adoniyram smiled at her secretively as he rode past. And behind Adoniyram, riding a weary brown horse, was Kal.

  She gave him a cautious hint of a smile, then tossed her head and sniffed, loudly repeating Zeva’ah’s indignant complaint. “Half naked indeed!”

  Kaleb’s eyes sparkled as he rode past.

  Perek, riding his own horse just behind Shoshannah, growled a wordless threat. Shoshannah held her breath fearfully, but Kal said nothing. The danger passed in an instant, departing with Adoniyram’s triumphant household.

  Relaxing, Shoshannah exulted inwardly, He’s safe! He’s well! She wanted nothing more than to escape with him. And Tiyrac, of course. She tried to think of a plan.

  Adoniyram turned to look at his new guardsman as they rode out of the market street. “What did she mean, ‘half naked’?”

  Grimacing wryly, Kaleb hung his head. “The women of my tribe don’t bare their shoulders. So, when I saw first saw her in our Master Ra-Anan’s courtyard, I was shocked. I asked the Master if he always lets his women run around half naked.”

  Agreeably shocked himself, Adoniyram laughed out loud, making all his guardsmen crane their necks and lean forward. Dibriy had left this little bit of gossip out of his story about Kaleb, apparently considering it too dangerous to repeat. “You said that to him? In front of her? I don’t believe you!”

  Adoniyram could just imagine Shoshannah’s face when she’d heard Kaleb’s idiotic remark. “I’m amazed you’re still alive. You’re going to apologize to them.” Grinning at Kaleb’s confounded expression, Adoniyram said, “We’ll both apologize and give my uncle that lion’s hide. Though I don’t know what sort of gift I could send her.”

  “I’d think an apology would be enough, my lord,” the big man grumbled amiably.

  “You’re a lout.” Adoniyram liked his new guardsman better all the time.

  Kaleb wondered why Adoniyram hadn’t insisted that he must also apologize to the Lady Sharah. Odd. Had the Young Lord wanted his own mother to be insulted? You are a strange bird, he told Adoniyram silently. But so is your mother.

  Eighteen

  “YOU’VE RUINED MORE apparel in one year than I have in five,” Demamah chided softly, examining Shoshannah’s broken sandal strap as they sat in her courtyard.

  Shoshannah winced at the comparison. And at the burning of the caustic salt-ash-fat ointment she was dabbing on her raw big toe. “I couldn’t help tripping.”

  “You shouldn’t have been running. Mother’s not going to be happy.”

  “I’ll mend the sandal somehow—though I’d prefer new boots. I could make them myself if I just had a swatch of good leather.”

  Practical as always, Demamah pointed out, “Good leather will cost us a measure of barley.”

  “Forget the boots then, though they’d cover my injury. I’m going to lose my toenail.”

  “It will grow back.”

  “Eventually.” While she let the ointment seep into her wound, Shoshannah gazed morbidly at the stump of the once-beautiful tree in the courtyard. It was my best chance for escape. If I had waited until Kaleb and Tiyrac were here, we would have succeeded. Why couldn’t I have controlled my fear? Most High, why am I always so foolish? Zeva’ah entered the tiny courtyard now, brisk and so flawless that Shoshannah’s spirits sank even further. Didn’t her aunt ever have an untidy day? Wasn’t her hair ever messy?

  Zeva’ah frowned. “Why are you two sitting here doing nothing? I came to tell you that Tabbakhaw will need your help; we’re expecting company tonight.” Suspicious, she stared down at Shoshannah. “What have you done now? Look at your sandal.”

  Humbled, Shoshannah said, “I’m sorry, Aunt—I’ll mend it. I tripped.”

  “You won’t be able to make it look right again,” her aunt snapped. “But I suppose Adoniyram and our Lord Kuwsh won’t be surprised; you always look rumpled.”

  Adoniyram, Shoshannah thought, her gloom lifting. Perhaps Kaleb will attend him!

  “Will the Lady Sharah and the Lady Achlai also visit?” Demamah asked, wrinkling her forehead in apparent concern.

  “The Lady Sharah, no—thank the heavens. It seems she’s pouting for some reason.” Zeva’ah sighed. “But the Lady Achlai… perhaps. And that filthy guardsman will apologize for offending us, as he should have done weeks ago, before Adoniyram stole him. Adoniyram, too, will apologize for his rudeness.” Zeva’ah’s lovely features smoothed graciously now, as if she were already practicing the perfect look of forgiveness in her mind.

  Secretly thankful for the warning that she would see Kal tonight, Shoshannah wrapped her injured toe in a strip of linen, then stood, bowing politely to Zeva’ah. “I’ll go help Tabbakhaw, Aunt.”

  “Don’t cause trouble,” Zeva’ah warned. “I don’t want any scenes in the kitchen today.”

  “I’ll watch her, Mother,” Demamah promised, joining Shoshannah.

  Zeva’ah flashed her daughter a skeptical look. “As you always ‘watch’ her while she creates turmoil?”

  “Forgive me.” Demamah bowed, seeming to accept this criticism. But as they hurried toward the kitchen, she became indignant, whispering to Shoshannah, “Why does Mother say such things? As if you intend to create trouble—you don’t! And she shouldn’t insult Adoniyram’s new guardsman—if he’s like his brother, then she’s misjudged him terribly.”

  “And I say she shouldn’t complain about you,” Shoshannah agreed softly, hobbling, deciding it was safer to ignore the subject of Kal and Tiyrac. Though she was amazed to hear Demamah say anything for Tiyrac and against her mother. Will she ever rebel against her parents completely? Shoshannah couldn’t imagine such a thing.

  “I regret insulting you and your household; I beg your forgiveness,” Kaleb said, bowing to Master Ra-Anan and his beautiful, formidable wife, while he recited his brief speech—as instructed by Adoniyram.

  As Adoniyram had predicted, Master Ra-Anan accepted Kal’s apology with a nod, as did his proud wife. Then Adoniyram waved Kal—a mere guardsman—quietly out of Master Ra-Anan’s impressive main room. Dejected, Kaleb bowed and parted. It was pure torment to leave his Shoshannah inside with those disturbing people. She seemed so isolated and defenseless that Kaleb longed to snatch her and run away.

  His misery eased as he stepped into the courtyard and saw a large, familiar shadow waiting for him. “Tiyrac! You’re loose?”

  “For now.” Pounding Kaleb’s back in a rough welcome, Tiyrac said, “Let’s get to the stable before Perek finds you—he’s eating in the kitchen.”

  After nodding courteously to the guard as they strode through the gate, Tiyrac became grim. “As soon as you were sent to the tower, they brought Khiysh into the stable for Master Ra-Anan.”

  “So Ra-Anan will use him?”

  “If he can.”

  “I pray they don’t kill each other,” Kaleb muttered. “The guardsmen are betting on Khiysh against the Master.”

  “I doubt that’s a good thing.”

  They hurried through the dusk into the stable. To Kal’s surprise, Ghid’ohn was there with Ye’uwsh, and a number of the stable hands. They shouted approvingly when they saw him, and Ye’uwsh yelled, “You’re still clean! I thought we’d have to douse you again.”

  “Good to see you’re alive,” Ghid’ohn grunted. “Sit. Eat with us.”

  “We owe you at least a meal.” Ye’uwsh’s black eyes glittered. “Perek hasn’t lifted a hand to anyone since you beat him!”

  The others laughed and applauded in agreement. They pushed Kaleb into the seat of honor—a hay bale— and shoved food and drinks at him. They mockingly re-introduced him to Khiysh and then told him all the gossip from Ra-Anan’s household.

  Kaleb listened to every scrap of talk about Shoshannah but volunteered n
o news from Adoniyram’s household. They didn’t notice his unaccustomed silence—they were simply pleased to see him again.

  I’m being honored for misbehaving, Kal thought, smiling. Well, that’s a change. It was small comfort while being separated from Shoshannah.

  “Your parents should have been here by now to rescue you,” Lord Kuwsh grumbled to Shoshannah as they waited for their meal to be brought from the kitchen. “Do you think they’re glad to be rid of you after all?”

  “Perhaps, my lord.” Shoshannah acknowledged Lord Kuwsh politely, then lowered her eyes. But not before his wife, the Lady Achlai, gave Shoshannah a sad, apologetic smile.

  You hate this situation, Shoshannah thought to the unhappy Achlai. I thank you for wanting to protect me—though you can’t.

  “She continues her lessons?” Kuwsh asked Ra-Anan, looking irritable.

  “She is learning of our city. And of manners. You must admit she behaves better than before.”

  When Kuwsh agreed with a reluctant shrug of approval, Ra-Anan continued, “My priests have formally requested that she be trained for the temple.”

  “I still say she shouldn’t. Those priests are troublemakers as it is. They’ll conspire against us to steal our power.”

  “My Lady-Mother fears the same thing.” Adoniyram sounded measured, cautious. “Actually—and I am telling you this in confidence of your silence—she also believes you are managing the situation badly. She intends to have Shoshannah put to death if she gains too much favor among our people.”

  “Adoniyram!” Demamah gasped, staring at him until her father glared at her.

  As Shoshannah listened, not entirely shocked, Lord Kuwsh bristled and spoke through clenched teeth. “Tell your mother, Adoniyram, that she does not rule here.”

  “Our niece is proving useful,” Zeva’ah said defensively, to Shoshannah’s surprise. “It’s no benefit to anyone if she’s put to death.”

  “Not yet,” Ra-Anan corrected.

  He made Shoshannah feel insignificant, and more certain than ever that her eventual fate meant nothing to him.

  “The girl is innocent,” Achlai said heavily, not looking at her husband. “To put her to death would be a crime, worse than what happened to my Nimr-Rada.”

  She defends me for Your sake, O Most High—protect her.

  Lord Kuwsh was frowning at Achlai as if he wanted to strike her. “Don’t think that you speak for me,” he told his wife.

  Gently, almost kindly, Achlai murmured, “I know I don’t speak for you, my husband. I regret offending you.”

  An apology that was not an apology, Shoshannah decided. But Kuwsh would look foolish if he scolded his wife further.

  Glowering, Kuwsh addressed Ra-Anan and Adoniyram in the tone of one who expected to be obeyed. “I don’t seek the girl’s death unless it’s necessary; her mother is the traitor who should die. But—again—I do not want her in that temple, receiving offerings from the people. Such a visible presence in this kingdom will give her too much power. As for your priests, Ra-Anan, you must control them. They were entirely too pleased and proud of themselves during the ceremonies of Shemesh.”

  “They were rejoicing,” Ra-Anan said, fingering the livid scar on his jaw. “But they will be restrained.” He threw Adoniyram a warning look. “You will say nothing to them on your next visit.”

  Adoniyram’s full mouth curved in a self-mocking smile. “I doubt anyone would pay attention to me, Master-Uncle. I have no power here. Indeed, I feel like a mouse, trying to avoid being clawed by lions.”

  Kuwsh and Zeva’ah laughed at him, while Ra-Anan grimaced. Adoniyram looked sincere, but Shoshannah watched him, trying to decide his intentions. Adoniyram’s behavior shifted continually, subtly. He had upset her so often that she couldn’t trust him. Perhaps someday she would be able to ask Kaleb’s opinion. But that might be hoping for too much. It would be dangerous. What excuse could she possibly make for speaking to an “unfamiliar” guardsman? Even so, it had been good to have a glimpse of him tonight. And he hadn’t minded apologizing.

  Her parents must certainly cherish her, Achlai thought, touched by Shoshannah’s soft, worried expression when Kuwsh had been reprimanding Achlai. She’s a good, loving girl. I wonder why they haven’t come to save her. Could they be planning something else?

  Perhaps one of the First Fathers would come to the Great City and insist that the girl be returned to her parents. Perhaps Father Shem himself would come here. The idea was frightful. I pray he doesn’t!

  That went well, Adoniyram decided, watching everyone from beneath his lashes. Kaleb’s apology had been accepted, as his own had been; therefore Kaleb would stay in his household, while Ra-Anan would have to be satisfied with commanding Kaleb’s gloomy brother. The others were also warned of their Queen of the Heaven’s threats against Shoshannah, and Adoniyram had been able to discern everyone’s intentions by their reactions. His mother and Kuwsh did not want Shoshannah to take the infamous Lady Keren’s role in the tower. But Ra-Anan, Rab-Mawg, and his priests did. There was going to be a struggle among them all. Which I must win.

  Tabbakhaw appeared now, bearing a massive copper platter laden with two steaming, dark-skinned roasted ducks, decoratively nested in vegetables. Behind her, the maidservant Ormah proudly flourished the gold serving tray and cups and a large basket of aromatic bread. As everyone gave attention to the food, Adoniyram studied Shoshannah.

  You behaved perfectly, Adoniyram thought. Your manners are improving. And now that I’m welcomed in our Master Ra-Anan’s household again, I will visit you often.

  He had missed her. For Shoshannah’s sake he would not offend his uncle again. Acquiring Kaleb, however, had been worth the temporary banishment; he would be a perfect commander-guardsman. Eventually.

  In the morning sunlight, Shoshannah walked up the tower stairs into the glittering temple, outwardly docile, her hands folded respectfully. Perek and Ormah followed her, already bored. Like Shoshannah, they longed for these lessons to end.

  “Here, Lady,” a voice beckoned from behind the altar. Ebed stood there, pole thin, freshly shaven, and smiling, wielding an ash-dusted gourd scoop. “Our Master Rab-Mawg is still asleep. You’ll have to endure my company until he wakes.”

  “Why is he still sleeping?” Perek demanded, his voice echoing off the gold-adorned walls.

  “I ask your patience.” Ebed quietly thrust the scoop into the ashes on the altar, lifting out bits of charred bone and resins. “We offered sacrifices until late into the night for the sake of our Great City, our people, and the crops. Rab-Mawg was the last to sleep. Until he wakes, the Lady Shoshannah can stay here. There’s much for her to learn in the temple.”

  “Don’t call her ‘the Lady,’” Perek ordered. “She has no title.”

  “As you say.” Ebed nodded but continued to scoop up the remaining ashes.

  Exhaling loudly through his flaring nostrils, Perek turned on his heel and stomped to the temple doorway. Ormah shied away from him, scooting toward Shoshannah.

  Ebed glanced furtively after Perek, then smiled at Shoshannah, whispering, “There’s much you haven’t seen here, Lady. Let me wash my hands, and then I’ll rejoin you both.” He bowed and carried a copper tub of ashes behind the half-drawn linen curtains.

  Curious, Shoshannah approached the gold-adorned altar. When the Ancient Noakh or Father Shem offered sacrifices, they offered them upon an altar of uncut rock, gathered from the surrounding land. No gold adorned the altar of the Most High, who had no need for any wealth. But Shemesh must have his gold. She studied the symbols embossed into the gold: stylized trees entwined with snakes, flowing waters teeming with fish, and odd X’s with their four ends half broken toward the right. As Shoshannah traced the signs, frowning, Ebed reappeared, followed by Awkawn and Ghez-ar.

  “Is this also a symbol of your Shemesh?” Shoshannah asked, touching a bent X.

  “Of course,” Awkawn said, irritably. By now Shoshannah knew he rarely liked mornings.

/>   But Ghez-ar’s brown eyes lit up, and he came to explain the symbols to Shoshannah and to Ormah, who lurked at her elbow. “The right-bent angles denote the movement of our Shemesh through the skies, Lady. The streaming water signifies life, while the tree, of course, is knowledge, and the Serpent is wisdom.”

  Wisdom! Shoshannah scoffed inwardly. How could they honor the Adversary, the Serpent?

  Oblivious of her scorn, Ghez-ar continued eagerly. “We seek all these things in the name of our Shemesh. And what better place to display these symbols than upon the sacrificial altar?”

  “You sacrifice only animals?” she asked, remembering that Nimr-Rada had passed the body of his firstborn son through the fires of his Shemesh.

  “Lambs and doves,” Ebed answered gently, joining them now. “And in the sight of Shemesh, fire perfects what it consumes, as it perfects gold. What we sacrifice here is never considered lost.”

  Perhaps to you it’s not lost, but my mother and my Aunt Revakhaw grieved horribly for Revakhaw’s child, whom they lost to the fire of your Shemesh.

  Still enthusiastic, Ghez-ar said, “Lady, I’ve wanted to ask: Have you ever seen the sun stones, which were possessed by the Ancient Ones? I was told by the elders of my tribe that they are unnatural stones, which glow in the darkness, like cold fire.”

  Shoshannah shook her head, bemused. “If our Ancient Ones have such things, I never saw them.”

  “They were probably afraid she’d ruin them,” Awkawn observed tartly. “Why don’t you show her Rab-Mawg’s useless trick with sunlight, Ghez-ar? Since you’re so enchanted with it.”

  “Awkawn, don’t be so ready to give up on the idea. It won’t be useless if we can correct the image somehow.” Ghez-ar disappeared behind a linen curtain and reemerged with a concave metal dish, more brilliantly worked and polished than an obsidian mirror. Nodding to Ormah, he said, “Please, if you could stand just outside the doorway in the sunlight.”