by Katie Clark
The sand calmed, and she made her way toward him. But she couldn’t reach him, because a guard blocked her path. The guard knocked Philip on the head, and he fell. He was reaching for Skye when she screamed…
~*~
It was still dark when someone gently shook Skye’s shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open, and in the dim light she made out Leah’s slim form. Skye bolted upright. “What’s going on?” Something had to be wrong for the women to be leaving before the sun came up. Maybe a fire. “What’s wrong?” she repeated.
Leah giggled. “Nothing is wrong. It is time to begin our morning tasks.” She smiled and shook her head before gliding away. She was already dressed in her simple cream robes, her hair pulled away from her face and held with a leather strap.
Morning tasks? Skye kept herself from groaning just as Rachel marched into the room. Thankfully, she didn’t spot Skye still in bed.
Skye hurried to straighten her robes and comb through her hair with her fingers. It really would have been nice if Ezekiel had put them up in his home, as guests, but she supposed it was safer this way. She rolled her eyes at her own stuck-up thoughts. She wasn’t much of a morning person, even though she didn’t usually feel so grumpy. It must have been the straw mattress.
The women shuffled into the common area where a few of the men were heading outside as well. No food smells drifted in the air, probably because no one got up to cook breakfast for the servants.
Skye scanned the faces, but she didn’t see Philip anywhere in the mix. Either he’d already hit the work fields, or he was allowed to sleep in.
He’d better not be sleeping in.
She shuffled toward Saul’s villa behind the other women. This was her third day in Sumer, and she couldn’t help feeling as if she was missing something, as though getting home was as easy as her putting the pieces of the puzzle together. That irritated her, and she sighed. She needed to snap out of her bad mood.
Did servants get punished for being in bad moods? She was reverting back to her old ways—her anger and bitterness. She really wanted to move past that. Get over it and on with her life. Life was too short to spend it angry. God, please let us get through this day. Give the council members speed, so Philip and I can get home.
With the prayer, she straightened her shoulders and finished the short trek to the main villa where she would help prepare the master’s morning meal. She took a deep breath and tried to smile. It would be a great day. Hopefully.
22
Philip hefted one last pitchfork-full of manure over the fence and tossed it into the pile he’d been creating since waking up.
Women were finally trickling out of Ezekiel’s villa and back to the servants’ house. Must be breakfast time.
His muscles had never been so sore, not even after two-a-day football practice in the blazing, Tennessee heat. So, he’d surprised himself when he’d rolled out of bed this morning while it was still dark outside and he hadn’t even minded it. He’d enjoyed the work he did yesterday. He felt different here. Changed. Maybe it was the freedom of being away from his friends or the lack of things like school stresses and peer pressure.
Or maybe it was getting a new perspective on life and what mattered. Did he want to be like Saul? Like Dad? Willing to toss anyone under the bus to get what he wanted? No. He didn’t want to be like that. He’d watched Skye last night, and how happy she was being part of a team. He wanted to be like that. Be like her.
Skye came out of the villa. She didn’t look his way, but he knew it was her. He’d know her a mile away. She probably didn’t know he’d been assigned to the stables, since they hadn’t spoken since she was taken to the kitchen to work. He needed to catch up with her so they could figure out what was going on, preferably before the council arrived.
Rinsing his shovel in a dirty barrel of water, he finished his last chore before heading to wash up for breakfast. His stomach rumbled on the short trip to the stream, and he made a fast job of cleaning up. How was he supposed to eat after shoveling manure? He would pay money for some antibacterial soap.
He sighed and joined Pistorious and the other men in the common hall of the slave house, as women bustled around with steaming pots of food. He had no idea what was inside the pots, but he’d eat just about anything right now.
Skye helped the women pass out clay bowls and crude spoons, smiling happily. Did she realize these people were slaves? He doubted it, betting the knowledge would put a major damper on her cheery mood. He wouldn’t have guessed without Rueben telling him.
The pot finally reached him, and a glob of white porridge was heaped into his bowl. That was it. No milk, no sugar, no cream. Just the plain, bland porridge.
Philip wanted to dig in, but he remembered the blessing from the night before and decided he’d better wait. After a few minutes, everyone had been served and was seated, and Pistorious once again stood at the head of the table. He offered a simple prayer.
Everyone started eating, and Philip joined in. The food tasted as bland as it looked. Once he took a few bites, it wasn’t so bad.
Skye caught his gaze from the women’s table, and smiled. He smiled back and waved with his spoon. He needed to talk to her. Before she turned away, he tilted his head toward the front door and raised his eyebrows.
She nodded almost imperceptibly, and he relaxed. He’d meet her outside as soon as their meal ended, at least until their task masters swept them away.
Philip ate quickly, letting the guys around him pull him into a conversation here and there. So far, no one had been too curious about where he hailed from, but their questions would come eventually. Hopefully, he’d be gone before then.
As soon as he could, he stepped toward the door. His gaze met Skye’s, and she nodded again, so he headed outside. Wind blew a cluster of brush past the building, and he looked in the direction it came from. A cloud of dust moved steadily down the road toward Ezekiel’s villa.
“Council members?” Skye’s voice made him jump, but he laughed off his nerves.
“I hope it’s the council. If it’s not them, it could be Saul. I don’t want to be stuck here much longer.”
Skye gave a half shrug. “It’s not so bad.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Really?” When she shrugged again, he smiled. “OK, it’s not terrible. But I’d rather go home.”
Her face tightened, but she didn’t argue. “Let’s get out of the open.”
He agreed and led them toward the shed where they’d hidden with Ezekiel the day before. Inside, Philip stood in front of the door to make sure no one surprised them. “We don’t want to get punished for mingling the sexes.”
She laughed, and he smiled. He liked being the one to make her laugh.
“So, you’re working in the house. How is it?”
“It’s really nice.” Her face lit up as she spoke. Her eyes were full of life, and her voice rose in excitement. “The women are great, and everyone helps everyone else. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure they’ve got their issues somewhere, but I love it here.”
Love was a strong word. He rubbed his neck, unsure if he should bring up what was on his mind. “Did you know these people are slaves?”
Skye frowned. She looked frazzled with her pouty face, and her blond hair breaking loose of her ponytail. “What?” she asked.
“Some of the men mentioned it yesterday. They couldn’t believe I’m not a slave, and they told me they aspire to my fate one day.”
He could almost see the wheels turning in her head. She hated injustice, and slavery definitely fell into that category.
“Still love it here?” he murmured.
She huffed and shook her head. “How can they be so happy as slaves?”
“Ezekiel seems like a pretty good master compared to guys like Saul. I guess they’re happy they got a good one. Think about history class. Slavery was a common practice back then. Still is in some parts of the world—or still will be?” He shook his head.
Her earlier happy face was repl
aced with anger, and her gaze focused on the wooden door behind his shoulder. “Maybe we should tell them how we feel.”
OK, that hadn’t been what he was shooting for. “We can’t change the past. Like, when are we, anyway? Four thousand years ago?”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
“Why do you want to stay so badly?”
A wave of uncertainty passed across her eyes. “I didn’t want to come on this trip in the first place, but I think I’m doing an OK job of fitting in.”
“You didn’t want to come?” For some reason that surprised him. Sure, she’d had an attitude with her mom, but he’d figured that was because of the educational tours thing.
“I tried really hard to get out of it, suggesting everything I could think of.”
He sensed she wasn’t through, so he kept quiet. He’d jumped at the chance to spend a few months in London. Skye was different from him, though. She liked solitude and security. Things he hadn’t provided over the last few years of their non-friendship.
“My dad said I could stay with him, but my mom freaked out.” She glanced at him. “She said she needed my moral support. She’s suspicious that someone is trying to edge her out of a job. She thinks it’s your dad.” The last few words were whispered, and Philip’s heart tightened.
He looked down, wishing he was back at the slave house. The air was sucked out of the room like a vacuum, and he struggled to take a deep breath. “Yeah,” he said. “I heard my dad talking on the phone. I got that feeling, too.” He watched her closely. Would she use it as more ammunition to hate him?
But her eyes stayed clear. “I can’t say no to Mom when she’s like that. As much as she works and uses me like her own personal therapist, I love her.”
Relief washed over him. She didn’t hate him because of Dad’s actions. And getting it out in the open took some weight off of him. He’d almost felt guilty holding the secret in all this time, as if he’d been dishonest with Skye.
“My dad’s a jerk.” He knew he shouldn’t say it as soon as the words were out, but he couldn’t help it.
Skye didn’t look at him this time, just shrugged and plopped into one of the ancient, rickety chairs in the shed. “I was pretty mad at my mom over asking me to come.”
“You had a right to be.”
Now she looked at him. “Yeah?”
“Of course.” He’d rarely seen her so shaken, so vulnerable. “If it makes you feel any better, my mom hasn’t even spoken to me in thirteen months.” The admission was like setting a balloon free. He wouldn’t ever admit such a personal thing to Mari and definitely not to any of his guy friends. Saying it out loud was also a relief. Even though he hurt over it, he’d be OK.
Her gaze locked onto his, eyes soft and blue. “I’m sorry about your mom. Why haven’t you talked?”
He sat in the chair beside her, suddenly uncomfortable. “Who knows? She’s always busy, but so am I. Why would I want to hang out with the person who ran off on me?”
She nudged him with her foot.
He looked back at her.
“They’re both jerks. At least Mom wanted me to come to Europe, even for her own selfish needs. I’m kind of surprised she didn’t just pay Rosa Linda, the housekeeper, to watch me.” She stopped and smiled. “I kind of wish she would have, huh?”
He chuckled, but a lump formed in his throat. Did he wish that? He would have never found himself getting reacquainted with her in their own world. Here, he was bonding with her. Wanting to rescue her. Smiling at her.
Wanting to kiss her?
The air between them buzzed with tension. When had their faces gotten so close together? Her eyes watched his lips, and he couldn’t believe he was even considering what he was about to do. He inhaled slowly and leaned toward her, willing this not to be a dumb move. Closer. So close he could feel her breath.
But then she gasped and pulled back. “I have to go. Rachel will notice I’m not helping.” She bolted for the door.
Philip hurried after her. “Wait, Skye.” He scrambled for something to say. “We need to figure out what’s up. Should we meet this evening? Before the meal?”
Her eyes were wide, and she shook her head. “Maybe Ezekiel will come for us before then.”
Philip didn’t say anything else. She was agitated now, and they wouldn’t be able to hold a decent conversation until she’d calmed down. But he was confused. What had that been between them? And why had she stopped it?
~*~
Pistorious waited with a frown on his face when Philip reached the stable. “You are behind,” he said.
Philip didn’t apologize, just grabbed the tool Pistorious held out to him and started forking hay. “I saw a dust cloud on the road,” he said to distract his master. “Will the visitors house their animals here?”
He hoped so. It would give him a good idea of whether or not the council members were here, and he’d be able to snatch Skye away from her duties at the house.
Pistorious nodded solemnly. “Yes, they will. We had better start making room.”
Philip stopped forking hay and started moving animals around, freeing up stalls to place the newcomers’ beasts. It had been a small dust cloud, so obviously not many animals. That didn’t mean more weren’t on their way, though. These might be council members who lived close by, with others further out who were coming. Or it might be guards coming to take him away.
Sweat dripped down his back as he worked, and the single bowl of porridge from earlier in the morning wasn’t enough to ward off his growling stomach for long. The sun was high overhead when the first rattling cart could be heard outside the stable. Philip peeked out and spotted the guy who had helped him and Skye escape on the streets of the city.
What was Seth doing here?
Fear swept through him, but Philip gritted his teeth. If Seth had brought Saul to them, he would pay.
“Hail and welcome!” Ezekiel shouted to the two visitors. He hadn’t shown himself since dropping Philip and Skye off with the task master the day before. Today he wore a bright purple robe with gold cords around his waist, and he didn’t so much as glance Philip’s way. He also seemed at ease. Seth’s presence wasn’t making him nervous.
Philip forced himself to relax a little, and he hung back.
Seth moved forward to grasp Ezekiel’s forearms in a friendly greeting, and Philip caught a look at the second visitor. It was an old man, but the resemblance between Seth and the man was stark. It had to be Seth’s father.
“I thank you for coming so quickly,” Ezekiel said. “The need is great, and none of the other council members have arrived.”
Seth’s father climbed from his cart and bowed deeply, groaning as his bones cracked. “My son assured me of the need. I am eager to witness such bizarre happenings for myself.”
Philip tensed again. This guy better have come to do more than watch. And how much did Seth know? He must not have believed Skye’s story about a spiritual meeting after all, if he had come with his father.
But Ezekiel chuckled, his huge stomach jiggling like the porridge they’d had for breakfast. “It is indeed bizarre, my friend. You will see. Come!” Ezekiel led them toward the main villa.
Philip hurried forward to take the mules’ reins. Ezekiel never looked his way. How would he show the council what Philip and Skye were all about, if he didn’t even take Philip with him?
Philip led the mule into the cave, glancing over his shoulder as the group headed to the villa. Something didn’t feel right. All Philip’s years of learning from Dad—lessons and talks about kill or be killed—came rushing into his head. If Ezekiel thought he would get away with putting one over on Skye and him, he was wrong. After Philip helped stall the animals, he approached one of the slaves. How did a person ask to go to the bathroom in Sumer? “I need to relieve myself.”
The man glanced at him but continued his work.
Philip bolted, moving as fast as he could across unfamiliar territory.
He needed to g
et inside the villa and figure out where Skye was. The problem was he wore the wrong colored clothing to be mistaken for a house servant, and after working with animals for the last hour, he definitely didn’t smell like a house servant.
Making a quick detour to the stream, he rinsed off as best he could. Dirt still clung to him, and he glanced at his clothes and skin. He shook his head. No one at school would ever believe this story.
His skin dried as he marched back to the villa then found a side door to slip inside. The only other time he’d been inside was for the few moments it’d taken to drop Skye off with Rachel the day before. He peeked around cautiously and then entered an empty entryway.
That was way easier than he’d expected.
Thank You, God.
The prayer felt weird but good at the same time. He’d gone to church with his family back when they’d actually been a family, but he hadn’t thought of that in years. Would God still hear him?
He moved quickly but quietly, looking around each corner before moving forward. This part of the villa had no decoration, and only basic furniture.
The slave quarters. That was perfect.
The hallways were dark, lit only by light that filtered in through the windows in various rooms he passed. As he hurried by each one he’d check inside, hoping to spot Skye. Most of the rooms were filled with supplies—linens, food items, or odds and ends. When three rooms in a row held food items, he picked up speed. He had to be getting close to the kitchen. Since Skye had had so much to do with serving both supper last night and breakfast this morning, he guessed that’s where she was stationed.
He rounded a corner, and at the end of a short hallway, he found a large opening. Loud clanging and happy voices came from inside, and he knew he’d found the kitchen.
A woman carrying a large tray came from the opening. She paused when she spotted him, her eyes wide. Philip tensed.
“What are you doing inside here dressed like that?” she asked. Her voice was curious and surprised but definitely not angry and eager to turn him in.
Philip scrambled to come up with a decent excuse. “They sent me with a message for the new girl.”