Crown in the Stars

by Kacy Barnett-Gramckow

  “Near Perek?” the maidservant asked, looking uneasy.

  “Only for an instant,” Ghez-ar encouraged her.

  While Ormah obeyed reluctantly, Ghez-ar stood near the doorway, angling his metal dish this way and that until a flash of light shone on a nearby wall. “Look at the image, Lady, carefully.”

  Obediently Shoshannah approached the light image on the wall, then gasped. It was upside-down, but undeniably… “Ormah!”

  “What?” Ormah stepped inside the temple again and the image vanished, leaving only a reflection of sunlight.

  “Don’t show her,” an acid voice interrupted, startling them all. Rab-Mawg swept into the temple from the hidden area, sleep rumpled and thoroughly annoyed. To Shoshannah, he muttered, “You hush. Say nothing of what you’ve seen to anyone.”

  Shoshannah immediately bowed her head, not wanting to provoke Rab-Mawg. But the wonderful upside-down “image” of the maidservant lingered in her mind. Unimaginable. And apparently secret. Were they planning to use this trick of light in some future ceremony to terrify worshipers of Shemesh?

  If your Shemesh were real and worthy of devotion, as the Most High is real and worthy, then you wouldn’t need such tricks to show his glory.

  “I’ll forget what I saw,” she promised the testy young Chief Magician.

  He leaned toward her, zealously hard-eyed. “No, Lady, don’t forget what you’ve seen; it is a part of your training to remember and keep such secrets.”

  I would rather forget.

  Astride her tawny-and-black horse, Shoshannah rode quietly after Ra-Anan and Adoniyram and Perek through the tall, damp, green and brown grass, alert to every noise. And to Kaleb’s presence not far behind her.

  Have courage, she pleaded with her spiritless horse silently. Stay with the hunt.

  She had been trying for several weeks to take down just one animal that would provide leather for decent boots. This morning, the men were planning to drive creatures eastward from these boggy southern grasslands into the open fields nearby, where they could easily slaughter them. Soon these grasslands would be flooded for the season, and hunting would be more difficult. I must catch something today. A soft rustling sounded to Shoshannah’s right, followed by a squeal. A sow?

  Her heart thudding, Shoshannah flexed her fingers around her bow stave, set her arrow, and watched. Her horse stirred uneasily.

  I don’t blame you; boars are dangerous. She was also keenly aware of Kaleb and the guardsmen behind her, stilling themselves, their spears ready. If she didn’t get the first shot, the guardsmen would claim whatever they felled. More rustling sounded to her right, and fresh squeals. Shadowed forms, low and wide, slipped through the grass. I’m going to take a chance.

  Tracing one of the shadows, judging its path from the movements of the grass, she released an arrow into the brush. In less than a heartbeat, the guardsmen behind her charged toward the barely seen herd, roaring, driving the creatures toward the open fields as they’d planned. Shoshannah rode after them, elated. One boar lagged, bearing her arrow behind its left shoulder. Kaleb finished it off neatly with a well-aimed spear.

  Shoshannah called to him, thrilled, but pretending irritation. “That one’s mine; you know it!”

  “Do I?” His look invited her to follow. He dismounted, sauntering toward their prey. Shoshannah flung herself gracelessly off her own horse and hurried to meet Kaleb before anyone else approached.

  “Be careful; I love you,” she whispered, looking at the boar’s ochre-yellow body.

  His expression softened for a fleeting instant. “I love you. But we’d better change the subject. Should we argue… Lady?”

  “Let’s not. Perek’s watching, and I don’t want to make him angry; he’s the only one who’s allowed to beat me.”

  “Really?” Kal looked her in the eyes, darkly amused, his face hardening. “I want his job then. He’s coming now.”

  Loudly, Perek called out, “That one’s not yours, Dung heap!”

  Pushing a foot onto the bristly felled boar, Kaleb wrested his spear free, checked its heavy bone blade, and stepped away politely. “I wasn’t claiming it—I’ve already offended the Lady enough.”

  “Don’t call her ‘Lady.’ She’s no one here,” Perek snarled, reminding Shoshannah of his confrontation with Ebed in the temple.

  “Of course,” Kal agreed, dangerously terse.

  Shoshannah regretted telling him that Perek had beaten her.

  By now Adoniyram was approaching, evidently concerned that Perek and Kaleb might quarrel. Kaleb bowed to Adoniyram. Perek twitched, reluctantly following his example. Adoniyram stepped between the two guardsmen and looked down at Shoshannah’s quarry. “Not a bad-sized kill.”

  “For being shot by a woman?” Shoshannah asked, glad for his presence but disliking his condescending tone.

  He smiled. “Don’t pick a quarrel with me—you won’t win.” Turning, he commanded, “Kaleb, haul this thing for her; leave the arrow in its side so we remember it’s hers. Perek, please tell my Master-Uncle that he has meat for his household.”

  “I claim its hide,” Shoshannah told Adoniyram. “I’m going to use it for boots; I hate riding in these sandals.”

  “You’ll look ridiculous—like a boy. However, if you must have boots, I’ll trade you that hide for some presentable leather. And you should have a skilled craftsman make them; you’re not in the wilderness anymore.”

  Aggravated, recalling her fiercest grievance against him, she muttered, “How could I forget? Anyway, the boots probably don’t matter; I won’t need them if I’ll be living in the temple. The way you’ve encouraged my uncle and those priests to train me…”

  “Don’t argue about your lessons.” In a whisper, he added, “Trust me.”

  “You make trust difficult!” she retorted beneath her breath. “And since you’re so concerned about temple matters, why haven’t you persuaded your mother to fulfill her obligations to Shemesh? I’m not the one who was first bound by the oaths.”

  “Nor was she.”

  “She is,” Shoshannah insisted, remembering her mother’s account of Nimr-Rada extracting her oaths at the edge of a knife. “Your Great-King father said that your mother was also bound by the oaths. But I am taking her responsibilities.”

  Adoniyram smiled at her disarmingly, his voice suddenly warm. “Come now, can you imagine my mother serving in the temple?”

  “No,” Shoshannah said, refusing to let Adoniyram beguile her, aware of Kaleb nearby, trussing the boar to a stout pole. “I can’t imagine her doing anything like work.”

  Laughing, Adoniyram teased, “At last we’ve agreed on something.”

  He’s too familiar with her, Kaleb thought, frustrated and envious, lashing the boar’s cloven hooves to the pole with needless force. I’ve got to get her away from here, soon.

  Nineteen

  “I DIDN’T REALIZE that the oath bound our Queen of the Heavens as much as it did her sister,” Adoniyram said, grimacing at Rab-Mawg and the others while they shared their evening meal in the living area behind the temple.

  “Nor did I.” Rab-Mawg faced Adoniyram, unblinking. “Yet she claims to be the loving mother of her people. She ought to be a good example to them and fulfill her vows.”

  Adoniyram silently accepted a bit of dry, overcooked lamb from Ghez-ar, who bowed, sweating as he asked Rab-Mawg, “Excuse me, Master, but won’t the Daughter of Keren be an acceptable substitute?”

  “I believe she still follows that Most High.”

  “Surely, if that’s true, she will change,” Adoniyram said smoothly, not liking Rab-Mawg’s tone. “She does recite the ancient stories now and then, but I’ve heard that she wavers in her beliefs. If she continues her lessons and eventually fulfills her mother’s vows, I’m sure you’ll persuade her to turn to our Shemesh.”

  “No doubt you are right, my lord.” Rab-Mawg still sounded displeased. “But whatever the girl does, your Lady-Mother should show her own devotion to our Shem
esh.”

  The Chief Magician had never liked their Lady Sharah, Adoniyram knew, because her only interest in the tower was that it reflected her own glory and added strength to her realm. She had never actually worshiped Shemesh, which frustrated Rab-Mawg.

  Warily, Adoniyram avoided the subject and continued their meal. But he thought, Rab-Mawg, you’re becoming arrogant and offensive. If I gain control of this kingdom, you will be replaced.

  Wearing her new soft leather boots, which Adoniyram had insisted upon trading for the boar’s hide, Shoshannah scurried up the moonlit tower stairs, distantly followed by the unhappy Ormah and the torch-bearer Perek. She had been praying for rain tonight, to avoid this lesson. But now she was glad the skies were clear, because she’d seen Adoniyram’s horse being held by a guardsman at the base of the tower stairs. And if Adoniyram was here, then—perhaps—Kaleb had accompanied him.

  Breathless, she turned the corner from the stairs to the terrace, glancing around eagerly. There was no sign of Adoniyram. He was probably inside the temple. But there was a guardsman silhouetted in the moonlight outside on the terrace, unmistakably tall, broad, and armed with a long spear. Kaleb.

  She ran to him, snatching the chance before her courage failed her—before anyone else came onto the terrace. He saw her, swiftly looked around, and caught her in his free arm as she hugged him. He felt wonderfully warm and safe as a protective wall. To her surprise, he bent and kissed her lips fiercely, then turned her loose with a gentle, undignified swat that urged her to flee. She caressed his whisker-roughened jaw and ran.

  Father would probably swat you, she thought, rejoicing. Their first kiss! Too brief and stolen, but she felt like dancing.

  Kaleb watched Shoshannah, adoring the sight of her as she dashed to the edge of the moonlit terrace, her robes and hair fluttering in the breeze. The unexpected sensations of her embrace, her responding kiss, and the gliding touch of her fingertips all lingered, warming him, tormenting him deliciously. He wanted to laugh. You think we’ve gotten away with something forbidden, dear wife, but we haven’t.

  He sobered, wondering when he would have the chance to tell her that they were actually married. Perhaps Tiyrac could tell her. Kal dismissed the idea as quickly as it came. Tiyrac would be too overwhelmed and self-conscious to get the words out of his mouth. Then he would have to deal with Shoshannah’s questions, and her shock. She might even hug Tiyrac, which would undo the poor man altogether.

  I’ll tell her myself. Most High, give me the chance …

  Torchlight flared to Kaleb’s right. He gripped his spear, alert. Perek and a little maidservant turned from the steps onto the terrace. The maidservant was ignoring Perek haughtily, and he seemed irritated. Spying Shoshannah, the rude guardsman waved his torch at her, bellowing, “Run ahead of us like that again, Daughter of Keren, and I’ll thrash you! Do you hear me? Come here, now!”

  You thrash her and I’ll drop you with the sharp end of this spear, Kaleb threatened him silently, tensing, ready to attack the man.

  Apparently summoned by Perek’s bellowing, Adoniyram emerged from the temple, followed by those thin, bald, Shemesh-worshiping priests. Swiftly, Adoniyram halted Perek with a single word. “Stop!”

  Kaleb followed the Young Lord, keeping a proper distance, watching him and listening.

  Adoniyram beckoned Shoshannah. “What’s happened?”

  Shoshannah sounded happily unrepentant. “Perek didn’t like it that I ran up the stairs; he believes I was too far away from him.”

  Amused, Adoniyram said, “You probably were. When will you learn to behave?”

  Never, I hope, Kal thought, resenting the Young Lord’s attitude toward Shoshannah. Though he usually treated Shoshannah coolly in public, often ignoring her, Adoniyram was now acting as if he had some claim upon her, almost as if they were betrothed.

  What can I do if he takes her for his wife? Kaleb wondered, appalled. He was a lowly guardsman here, with no authority. And all his physical strength wouldn’t help him. If he rebelled, Adoniyram could have him killed, and Shoshannah as well.

  “Perhaps when I’m old—in a few years—I’ll learn some manners,” Shoshannah told Adoniyram. But her high spirits faded as the priests approached; she stepped back and bowed.

  Kaleb watched, disturbed, realizing she was afraid of these priests.

  “Come,” the twig-thin leader of the priests motioned to Shoshannah, as disturbingly possessive as Adoniyram, though he bowed to the Young Lord politely. “We will be sure you behave. Perhaps our Son of Heaven will observe your lesson.”

  “I’ve nothing better to do,” Adoniyram agreed, shrugging.

  Kaleb was certain Adoniyram was pretending indifference. What are you planning, O Son of Heaven, he wondered, fighting to rein in his temper. And how can I defend Shoshannah against you all? He had never felt so useless in his life.

  Twenty

  ECHUWD SAT at the evening fire and watched his enemies: Zekaryah, Keren, Father Shem, and I’ma-Annah, and Metiyl, who had been guarding him so closely that he couldn’t escape. He was a captive in Metiyl’s tribe. Worse, he had lost almost a year’s worth of profits from trading. All because of that girl, who was too thoughtless to keep her face hidden as he’d instructed.

  She and her madman husband will probably get themselves killed somehow. Then I’ll be blamed and put to death too. How can I save myself? Echuwd’s heart thudded furiously as he considered ways to escape.

  An idea, simple and easily accomplished, took hold in his mind. His relatives would be here in a few days, finished with their latest trading expedition in the highlands. They would help him. Mentally he calculated what price must be demanded and rehearsed what he would say. He had to regain what he had lost.

  “We ought to depart soon,” Keren murmured as her dear friend Tsinnah knelt beside her, holding her infant daughter, Tavah. “News might spread that we’re here.”

  “Another month or so won’t matter,” Tsinnah whispered. “You’ll be safe here for at least that long.”

  “Yes, but then we’ll go north to stay with Neshar and Revakhaw, though I’d hate to put them in danger.”

  “They won’t consider you a danger; they love you. But are you going to take Yelahlah and that Echuwd with you?”

  Keren sighed, torn over this still-unmade decision. At last she said, “Father Metiyl believes Echuwd should be kept here until Shoshannah, Kaleb, and Tiyrac return safely.”

  “I agree with Father Metiyl.” Tsinnah stroked Tavah’s delicate fingers. The baby, sweet and pretty as her mother, yawned and stretched drowsily.

  Keren smiled, distracted her from troubles. “May I hold her?”

  Tsinnah fondly passed the baby to her.

  Keren relaxed, kissing the infant’s soft cheek and wondering at her name. Tavah. To grieve. “Why did you give her such a name, Tsinnah? Isn’t she a joy to you?”

  “Yes, but I fear I’ll outlive her and be left with grief instead. And… because I have caused sorrow for you, with your Shoshannah.”

  “That wasn’t your fault.” Keren rocked Tavah gently, lulling her to sleep.

  “I still blame myself.” Smiling faintly, Tsinnah said, “By the way, Shoshannah wonders if you will honor her as an elder when she becomes old and gray before you.”

  Keren laughed, though tears filled her eyes. “How like her. Elder nothing! I’ll scold her and send her off for a nap first.”

  “Always the mother.” Tsinnah hesitated. “I pray the Most High saves her for us.”

  “Yes,” Keren agreed, trying to subdue her tears and the feelings of anger against Him. Life would have been desolate without Shoshannah… without all her babies… She would never regret their existence. Never.

  Twenty-One

  LESSONS AGAIN. Miserable, followed by Ormah, Perek, and a number of guardsmen, Shoshannah rode behind Ra-Anan, Kuwsh, and Adoniyram through the crowded market street. Strangely clad tribes were visiting the Great City, jostling with the usual merchants, loudly of
fering peculiar, garishly colored robes, heavy copper and gold earrings, feather hair adornments, furs, and pungent meats and curdled milks that made Shoshannah feel sick.

  A rounded, leather-clad young man hurried out and grasped Shoshannah’s horse by the mane, halting her. “If you’ve any wounds, we have cures!” he cried. “Poultices! Herbs! Permanent tracings of protection against all misfortunes!”

  Taken aback, Shoshannah stared at him.

  He bared his arm, revealing a dark, bluish series of disfigured lines and dots along his shoulder and forearm. The marks seemed to be etched beneath his skin like permanent bruises. He rubbed them hard, but they didn’t smudge. “These can never be scrubbed off! For one measure of grain or half a measure of meat…”

  “Get away!” Perek snarled, riding forward, jabbing his spear toward the peddler.

  “Don’t you threaten my son!” A woman garbed in fur and beads stormed at Perek, her anger rousing everyone nearby. “He’s only offering remedies—which you need for settling yourself!”

  “Stop! Perek, back away.” Apparently provoked by the commotion, Ra-Anan scowled, turning his horse toward them. “Woman, I can have my guards confiscate your belongings and chase you and your family off like rubbish. Don’t delay us further. If you want to trade goods here, you cannot lay hands on anyone in these streets.” Ominously, he added, “Make a booth and keep to it.”

  Ra-Anan’s cold, scarred, clean-shaven features, his splendid robes, and all his guards apparently convinced the woman. She pulled her son back, but she was fuming. “Make a booth? With what? Nonsense! We’ve arrived with nothing. Bariyach, come away!”

  Drawing rebellious looks after him from other merchants, Ra-Anan rode onward.

  Adoniyram slowed his horse to ride with Shoshannah. Eyeing her, he asked softly, “Did that man touch you?”