Shelter of the Most High

by Connilyn Cossette

  Although the son of a manslayer himself, as soon as Meshek had learned that my mother had been convicted of the accidental killing of two young boys, he’d found no lack of opportunities to mock her and the Canaanite brand on her face, labeling her an Egyptian-bred temple whore.

  As a boy ruled for the most part by a quick temper, I’d rarely been able to control the flashes of anger his cutting words instigated. Of course, once Meshek discovered my malformed ear and lack of hearing on my right side, his abrasive remarks shifted from my mother to me.

  The older boy had found great entertainment in sneaking up on me and whispering foul words into my deaf ear while his friends laughed. And I, being self-conscious of not only my weakness but also the way people stared at my deformity, usually went hot with rage and swung my fists without considering the cost.

  “Ah well, if it isn’t the deaf boy,” Meshek said, his well-trained stride shifting into a swagger as he approached me.

  Determining not to succumb to provocation, I ignored him, stepped to the side, and pressed my back to the wall, giving him and his companion enough room to pass in the narrow space. Although unaware of my history with the solider, Nadir followed my lead.

  With a guffaw, Meshek disregarded the handspan of height I’d gained on him since he’d left and crowded me with his bulk. “Aren’t you old enough for military service now? Why are you still here?”

  “I don’t see how that is any concern of yours,” I replied, muscles tight and jaw iron-set.

  With his head cocked to the side, he appraised me, a razor-edge glint of humor in his eyes. “What sort of coward hides behind walls while others go fight his battles?”

  He reached out and grabbed the thick braid that trailed over my shoulder. My muscles coiled, ready to spring, but I held my ground. With a provocative gleam in his eye, he let the plait slide through his grimy fingers. “How appropriate. I’ll bet it’s lovely unbound.”

  Still unmoving, except for a surreptitious curl of my fingers into fists, I stared at him, refusing to be goaded by his blatant questioning of my manhood. “Move on, Meshek,” I said. “I have no desire to quarrel with you.”

  His laughter reeked of derision. “Just as I thought. A coward.” He leaned closer, his oily words dipping low. “Or perhaps that temple-whore of a mother still has you tucked behind her skirt.”

  My restraint snapped. Vibrating with fury, I swept my arm out and hooked Meshek by the neck, driving his head into the wall behind me. His bronze helmet clanked against the stone with a satisfying thud and slipped down over his eyes. As he recovered, blinking and adjusting the helmet back into position, I stretched to my full height, silently thanking Baz for the months of speed- and strength-building exercises that had honed my body.

  With a growling curse, he lunged. His heft barreled into me at full speed, nearly knocking the wind from my chest and slamming my elbow into the opposite wall. But I spun before he could pin me and swept his feet out from under him, dropping him face down into the hard-packed earth, his helmet spinning across the dirt.

  I followed him down, one knee in the center of his back and the other pinning his arm to the ground. Both of my hands were around his throat from behind. Digging my knee into his spine, I squeezed his throat, satisfied when I felt him gasp for breath. Leaning forward, I rasped in his ear, “Never again will a word about my mother pass your lips.”

  Undeterred by the hold I maintained on him, he spat out, “She’s no more your mother than you are a man.”

  Molten fury flooded my body. The twins’ deaths may not have been premeditated, but Meshek’s may be another story entirely. What kind of sound would a man make as his tongue was separated from his depraved mouth?

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed that Nadir had slipped his dagger free and was holding the other soldier at bay, a man whose wide eyes and lanky frame declared him to be early in his training. I felt confident Nadir would hold him off while I entertained my murderous thoughts.

  “Let him go, Eitan” came a command from my left flank. Without releasing Meshek, I flicked a glance over my shoulder at Chaim, another of my childhood acquaintances. Although he maintained detached calm on his face, his brown eyes danced with humor.

  “You sure you don’t want to get in a swing?” I asked through gritted teeth, menace still swirling in my blood as I dug my fingers into points on my former tormentor’s neck that would keep him from squirming. “This worm pounded on you a time or two as well, I recall.”

  Chaim’s stance widened, his expression controlled as he crossed his arms over his chest in a falsely casual pose. “That he did, but now I outrank him. When I tell him to polish my weapons, he does just that.” His tone remained even, but a smirk twitched at his lips. Although Chaim had been older than me, he’d always stood up to Meshek whenever he’d caught the tyrant picking on Tal and me.

  Meshek struggled against my hold, but I leaned harder into his back. “Now that, I’d love to see.”

  “I’m sure you would,” said Chaim, nodding his head to me with a subtle command. “Let the worm go.”

  After a few more stubborn moments, I capitulated, and Meshek drew in a loud breath at the release, spitting foul curses at me.

  Chaim leveled a scowl at Meshek. “I’ll deal with you later,” he said, and then dismissed the two men with a tilt of his chin.

  To my surprise, Meshek stalked away, his wide-eyed young companion following close at his heels. Again I offered a silent word of thanks that Darek and Baz had pushed me so hard. I’d barely had to exert myself while besting the man who’d left me with more bloody lips and bruises than I could count when we were children.

  “Seems to me you might want to step up the training with your men, Chaim.”

  He chuckled. “I heard Baz was working you over these past months. I guess the rumors were true.”

  I ignored the compliment, grinding my teeth. If only I could put that training to good use. “Are you stationed here now?”

  “We are. At least through the cold months. You still making the best weapons north of Shechem?”

  “I do what I can.”

  “Don’t give another thought to Meshek,” Chaim said. “I know if you were free to leave here, you’d be the first into battle.”

  He knew? Shock arched my brows.

  He answered my silent question in a low tone. “Darek filled me in last year, when you came of military age and I requested that you train with my company.”

  Frustration and hot embarrassment swelled in my throat. Who else had Darek told about my past? He and my mother had been so adamant that I keep the information secret for the past eleven years. Had it become town gossip without my hearing of it?

  Chaim must have seen the confusion on my face. He lifted his palms in a gesture of surrender. “He told me in confidence, and I swear to you I have not told a soul.”

  I’d nearly forgotten Nadir was still beside me, but now I could practically feel his intense scrutiny on my face. I refused to look his way. We’d become friends since he’d joined me at the foundry, but other than to confide in Tal, to whom I’d sworn a blood oath of brotherhood as a boy, I’d never let the truth pass my lips.

  “I appreciate that,” I said to Chaim and offered a stiff nod of gratitude before turning to continue on with a silent Nadir in my wake.

  “Eitan,” Chaim called out, halting my escape after only two paces. “I meant what I said. Your metalwork is extraordinary. I’ve heard your name mentioned more than once in Merom as a master bronzesmith. And if . . . if circumstances change, I would be honored to have you among my men.”

  I nodded a silent farewell and walked away, regret and powerlessness twisting into an impossible knot that made my chest burn. Nothing about my circumstances was simple, and if Darek continued to keep me penned up in this city, neither would they change anytime soon.

  CHAPTER

  EIGHTEEN

  “I can practically hear the questions knocking against your teeth.”

&n
bsp; I placed the last jug of olive oil on the shelf. Nadir had not said a thing as we’d collected the last of the farmer’s goods and promised the old man we would return to repair his broken axle. Nor did he mention what Chaim had revealed as we walked back through the city with our burdens, but I did not doubt that he’d been silently mulling the mystery.

  “Far be it from me to prod.” He lifted his palms. “Your past is your own concern.”

  I slid a covert glance around the dim room and then to the miserly window slits on the far wall, ensuring no one would overhear my confession. “What do you know of my mother’s presence in Kedesh?”

  His eyelids flickered twice before he spoke. “Only that she accidentally poisoned two boys.”

  “Yes, they were the twin sons of Raviv, Darek’s brother.”

  His brows lifted in surprise.

  “Raviv vowed at the trial that he would find a way to destroy my mother, but he also vowed to end my life as well.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was part of that tragedy. Although I was not convicted of manslaughter like my mother was, being only a child and ignorant of the lethality of even a tiny amount of oleander, I too was sent here for protection from Raviv.”

  “And that is why you never leave the city?” His tone was mild, and I appreciated that he was minimizing his shock over my hidden past.

  “It is. I vowed to never pass the boundary, even if legally I have every right to do so.”

  “And why is this a secret?”

  “My mother and Darek did not want the taint of such a thing to affect my childhood. I suffered enough scorn for my deformed ear from boys like Meshek. They did not want to scrawl the label of manslayer on my forehead as well.”

  “But you are no longer a child, and now there are plenty of others in this town whose misdeeds are common knowledge. Why bother concealing your part in the deaths anymore?”

  “To honor my mother, who has asked me many times to leave the past in its place. But the incident today is just one more reminder that my hands have been bound by those secrets. I am more than ready to fight for my people.”

  A spark of excitement lit in Nadir’s eyes, and I knew he felt a kinship with my constraints. “Then you will leave Kedesh? Join the army?”

  “I am hoping that I have proven my commitment to Darek, as well as my ability to protect myself from Raviv, and that the next time he leaves on a mission into enemy territory, he will allow me to go.”

  “So you will claim your freedom to go wherever you desire?” Nadir grinned. “You’ll go fish with me at the lake?”

  Annoyed that he would bring up fishing—again—I brushed off the jest. “If he lets me go, I will repay him by continuing to honor my mother’s wishes. When I am not actively on a mission with Darek, I will remain in Kedesh.”

  Frustration flashed in Nadir’s expression. “That is not true freedom.”

  I don’t deserve true freedom. “Perhaps, but it is the compromise I am willing to endure for my mother’s sake.”

  He shook his head, eyes fixed on the ground. “I would do anything for my freedom,” he said, contemplation in his low tone. “Anything. If only that ancient priest would die so I could go home to my village.”

  It struck me suddenly that my lot was far better than Nadir’s. Yes, I was stuck in Kedesh, but I had my family with me. Nadir had not only lost his freedom and his livelihood, but his family as well. My annoyance over his dogged persistence about fishing faded to nothing. The chance to reclaim even a shadow of what he’d lost by visiting that small lake must be a constant temptation.

  “Let’s return to the farmer and work on that axle,” I said, moving toward the entrance of the storehouse. We both had need of distraction. Hopefully the crumbs of my story had been enough to satiate his interest in my past. I had no desire to dig any further into the wound today.

  Wordlessly, Nadir walked beside me as we left the building, both of us blinking in the sunlight after the dimness of the storage chamber. To avoid the chance of any further contact with Meshek, we made our way through the market instead of returning the way we came.

  Surreptitiously I kept my eyes roving over the teeming crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sofea, who frequented the market at this time of day. She was always the first to volunteer to fetch articles or foodstuffs for my mother, but I suspected her forays into the maze of stalls and wagons had less to do with duty and more to do with her innate curiosity.

  More than once I’d seen her visiting with foreign tradesmen, her lips full of questions about the places they’d been and the wonders they’d seen on their journeys. The longer she lived in Kedesh, the more she’d let down her guard, gradually revealing all the vibrance and inquisitiveness of her natural personality. I smothered a smile as I remembered the feel of her silken curl around my finger and the intoxication of speaking with her in the shadows last night. My step quickened as I planned the fastest way to fix the farmer’s wagon. I needed to get back to the inn and see how she fared today.

  My mother said Sofea had been shocked over the true nature of our city, but she felt confident Prezi could make her understand. I’d respected Prezi’s request that we not tell Sofea about the manslayers in this city, especially after she’d told me about the evil man Sofea had called Father, but I was relieved that I could finally speak freely with her about such things. It was time she knew the whole of it. It was time to lay everything, including my heart, before her.

  “Does Sofea know?” Nadir asked, as if privy to my thoughts. I’d seen him watching us last night and truly hoped that what he’d witnessed would not hinder our friendship.

  “Not yet. After the disturbance last night she discovered what Kedesh is and why my mother is here. I plan on telling my own part in it today.” Making a swift decision to forewarn him of my plans, I stopped and turned to meet his gaze. “Along with asking to go on the next mission, I will be requesting that Darek arrange a betrothal.”

  Nadir folded his arms and settled back on his heels, head down for a few quiet moments before he spoke. “Sofea reminds me very much of a girl I knew back in my village. Her name was Liora. Smart. Beautiful. A thirst for life.”

  Yes, Sofea was all those things, and so much more. The way she’d looked at me last night as I’d slipped my finger into her ringlet like a lovesick fool, as if she welcomed the pull between us, had solidified my decision to make her my wife—and soon.

  Nadir continued, his chin lifting as he met my gaze. “And just as I’d once hoped that Liora would be mine, I hoped for Sofea as well.”

  My empty stomach churned. Had I lost my friend by declaring my intentions?

  “But I could never do that to her,” he continued.

  “Do what?”

  He gestured around us, sweeping his hand toward the city walls that encircled us. “You’ve seen how curious she is about this land. How desirous she is to explore and learn and see new things. And you also know how desperately she misses the sea. What do I have to offer her, other than a life locked away in this prison?”

  Stunned, I scrabbled around in my head for a response—a rebuttal. Even if Darek allowed me to travel with his men, my life was centered here with my family until the High Priest of Israel died and set my mother free. What do I have to offer her but the same?

  He waved a dismissive hand. “Ignore me. I’m sure you’ve already considered such things. Besides, I saw you two last night. It’s obvious she’s made her choice.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder with a wry smile. “I won’t begrudge your happiness, my friend.”

  Equal parts relief and confusion pooled in my gut as we turned the corner near the inn. Nadir didn’t seem to be angry about my pursuit of Sofea, but he was wrong if he thought I’d fully considered all the ramifications. She had come to settle into life here so well over the past few months—learning our language, working alongside the other women, even indulging Abra’s tendency to follow her like a chick all over town—I’d taken for granted that adapting to t
his city meant wanting to stay here permanently.

  Before I could untangle my tongue or my thoughts, a familiar figure caught my eye. The young shepherd whom I’d seen glaring at me as I ran around the walls and during the wrestling match was leaning in the shade of the palm that stood a few paces away from the main entrance to our inn. Although his pose appeared relaxed, the way he was craning his neck made it seem as though he might be peering through our half-open doorway.

  Noticing my attention had been diverted, Nadir turned to follow the direction of my gaze. “Someone you know?”

  As if the shepherd suddenly felt the weight of our scrutiny, he looked back over his shoulder, eyes flaring wide. He pushed off the tree trunk and headed for the city gates. The first time his reaction to me had been strange, the second time an odd coincidence, but this time suspicion roared to life.

  The young man strode away without a look behind him. His clothes were tattered and his feet bare, his thin shoulders just beginning to widen into manhood. There was little to set him apart from any other shepherd tending the abundant flocks of goats and sheep owned by the Levites, aside from his seemingly keen interest in me.

  “No,” I bit out, torn whether to pursue him or check the inn first. “Have you seen him before?”

  Nadir scratched at his beard. “Can’t say that I have. Looks like one of the herdsmen. Odd for him to be in the city this time of day without stock.”

  “I saw him outside the city a few months ago, watching me as I trained. And then again the day you and I wrestled—” My explanation skidded to a halt as I remembered Darek’s words from months before. I have little doubt that Raviv has spies within this very city.

  “I need to go,” I said, my feet already moving toward my mother. “Can you find someone else to help the farmer with his wagon?”