Glorious Companions

by Summer Lee

  “An equation?” The Mesopotamians had some concept of mathematical equations, and through her father, she had been exposed to some of them.

  “By dividing the measurements of the base by twice the height, you get what’s called the universal constant. But this formula will remain hidden as well for generations to come. However, once fathomed, mankind will ascend to the next level of understanding, and then, the secrets of the pyramid may reveal themselves.”

  “What are the secrets?”

  Malluch laughed. “Even I do not know, but I suspect it has to do with the final destruction of mankind.”

  “This is too much for me to comprehend, Malluch. Maybe I am still affected from the ale.”

  He laughed. “I doubt it’s the ale. Indeed, this is too much for most humans to comprehend. But someday, there may come a time when man is ready. For now, no one will break the code before it’s time.” He turned to her. “And you are never to mention anything about this to anyone, especially not your grandfather. This is our little secret. Do you understand?”

  “I see,” she said. She was reminded of her childhood when she was often forced to keep all sorts of dirty secrets. She hated secrets. She felt ill at ease at the thought of keeping this one in particular. After all, didn’t she now have the key to protect mankind from future destruction?

  She looked again at the great pyramid. Somewhere inside was the future of mankind.

  “If you promise not to tell,” he said, “then I will show you even greater secrets. The secrets of the heavens.”

  She took a deep breath. “I cannot promise, Malluch. I’m sorry. This is too important.”

  His eyes flared briefly, flashing gold, or fire. He towered over her, all seven cubits of him. For one brief moment, she thought he might strike her. But then, without another word, he drew her into his arms, lifted her violently and sped away, flying very low to the ground. Kenana, terrified, buried her face in his chest.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  When she opened her eyes again, she found herself sprawled on the ground in front of her inn door. It was late evening, a fine mist was falling, and she was drenched.

  Confused, she stood, pushed open the door and stepped inside. Had her flight over the pyramids really occurred? Had she stood face-to-face with the great Sphinx? Or was she still drunk?

  She made her way through the dimly lit inn, up a creaking set of stairs and into her room.

  Waiting on the other side of her door, hands on hips, his face scarlet with anger, was Asher.

  “Where have you been, princess?” he asked. There was an uncharacteristic sharpness to his voice. He took a deep breath, and she could tell he was trying to control himself. “You’ve been gone all day.”

  “Just out,” Kenana said defiantly.

  Sarah and Tall appeared behind her. Sarah said, “You gave us all quite a scare, Princess Kenana. We were looking everywhere for you. We feared you had been kidnapped.”

  “I’m sorry to have worried you all. But I wanted to be alone, and I wanted to contribute.” She told them about the temple and the deal she struck with the temple priest. “And Dr. Rue is on his way to see Prince Jubal as we speak.”

  Asher’s eyebrows rose. “You did good work, princess.”

  Relieved that their mistress was well, Sarah and Tall departed to their own rooms. Or at least, Kenana assumed to their own rooms, for she had caught them touching fingers briefly and intimately in the hallway.

  When she turned back, Asher was staring at her with a bemused expression on his sunburned face. “I see the glow on your face. I think you were out exploring with your angel. Am I correct?”

  She shrugged and averted her eyes from his piercing stare.

  “We should do something about that sunburn of yours,” she said.

  She rummaged through her traveling chest and found what she was looking for. She lifted a small fire-glazed decanter. “Healing ointments for your burn.” She looked at him and patted her cot. “Come here, Asher. Sit beside me on my bed.”

  He did so, and she applied the oil carefully over the contours of his rugged face, his skin hot to the touch. It was all Kenana could do not to pull that face into her lips.

  Instead, she said, “Your skin has positively soaked up the oil. It was as dry as parchment.”

  “It is because I am but a simple slave, princess, not privy to the delicacies of beauty and fashion.”

  “Well, I will not have you looking like a common field worker. After all, you attend to me, and I want you taken better care of. You take care of me and I shall take care of you.”

  He grinned. “As you wish, princess.”

  When she was done, he stood, face glowing now from the oil, bowed, and left her room. The scent of the healing oil filled her small chamber.

  She removed her dusty clothes, slipped on something clean from her travel bag, and blew out the candle.

  In bed, sleep eluded her and loneliness filled her heart. Outside the mist had turned into rain, slapping now at the sill of her open window.

  Kenana wished she could find one man who could fill all of her needs. But she doubted she ever would. Perhaps she should run off with her angel and disregard her wedding vows. Ah, Malluch! He stirred within her so much passion! She just wished her conscience did not bother her whenever she thought of him. An affair with him was out of the question.

  And had she wanted another grandfather, perhaps marriage to Jubal would have been palatable. But she wanted a lover and friend, not a fatherly guardian.

  Asher! She fondly recalled cradling that handsome face, intimately touching those rugged features.

  I’m just a desire-filled girl, she thought.

  Outside her window, above the slapping of the rain, she thought she heard the sound of a snapping twig. She sat up. Someone, or something, was beneath her window.

  “Who’s there?” she called out.

  Perhaps it was just a mangy dog. Still, she eased out of bed, picked up a clay water jug and stepped lightly over to one side of the window.

  Leaves crunched. She heard breathing. A strong stench of sweat and grime wafted through her window.

  “Come no further, for I am well armed,” she said. “Oh, and my guards are just outside my door.”

  The rustling stopped. Maybe it was indeed a mutt. Kenana was just debating whether or not to get Asher or Tall, when a face appeared in her window. It was the giant Nephilim.

  She screamed.

  “Quiet,” he hissed. “I must speak with you.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I am called Nod, protector of Adah, and I am here to tell you that you are not wanted at the palace any longer. Do not return to the prince. If you should do so, you and your kin will be forever cursed.”

  “You dare threaten me?” she said, finding courage. Where was her guardian angel?

  He sneered. “Who are you? You are nothing. Just the prince’s latest whore.”

  She didn’t need her angel. She knew just what to do.

  With all her strength, she heaved the clay vessel into the Nephilim’s face. Water burst everywhere and the vessel shattered into a thousand pieces. The Nephilim stumbled backwards, blood crisscrossing his damaged face from a half-dozen wounds. He cursed, and then dashed off into the night.

  Her door burst open. Asher appeared. He looked at her, and then to her open window. He dashed to her side and looked out into the night. His eyes followed the fleeing Nod, then looked down at the smashed remains of the pot that now littered the garden below.

  “The Nephilim. Did he hurt you?”

  She shook her head and threw herself into his arms, questioning who, in fact, was her true guardian angel.

  Asher held her close.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Morning did not come soon enough for Kenana.

  As the sun rose over the distant foothills, Kenana ate breakfast alone in her suite. Asher had stayed by her side the entire night, and when she had awakened after a restless nigh
t, she had found him still there, wide-awake and ever vigilant. Now Tall was outside her door while she ate breakfast, as Asher rested.

  Soft music flowed to her from the inn’s courtyard. Outside her window, guests were lounging on large cushions and drinking and chattering. Well-dressed ladies sat together on a day bed with soft feather pillows. She recognized the instruments the musicians were playing as ones created by her husband, and felt a sense of pride.

  She leaned back in her chair and gazed out at the gray skies. The clouds were still swollen the promise of rain, but at the moment there was a lull in the coming storm.

  “Things can only get better,” she whispered to herself. “They can’t get any worse.”

  Kenana wished she could have given a portion of her heart to her husband, but she could never forget being in Jubal’s bed as a small child, nor could she forgive him. He had taken advantage of a little girl, and deep down, she despised him for his reprehensible actions. Sometimes, she wished for his death.

  Still, she wondered what would become of her when he did pass on. Would she be able to retain her title as Princess of Adah? Or would Jubal’s sons have the authority to remove her? Would the manor house pass to her or to his sons?

  She did not know. Perhaps Asher knew. Or Sarah.

  She finished her breakfast, took in a fitful nap in which she dreamed of giants and Nephilim, then dressed and found Asher in his own quarters. He seemed amazingly refreshed.

  “I would like to buy some clay tablets to record my experiences.”

  His eyes brightened. “Record?”

  “Yes.”

  “As in write?”

  “Of course.”

  “And since when did you know how to write, princess?”

  “Since my father taught me at a young age.”

  Asher raised his eyebrows.

  She continued, “After having four girls, Father gave up hope of ever having a son. And because I was the youngest, I soon became the son he never had. He taught me to read and to hunt. Also, I traveled with him everywhere.”

  “I never knew.”

  “Well, the experiences came with a price. I don’t think a little girl should spend so much time in the company of men. There are some things girls do not need to hear or learn.”

  “There is something to be said for innocence,” he said, then added: “There is a library here in town that sells writing tablets. I will take you there once Tall and I have delivered Rue’s instruments.”

  *

  After the instruments had been deposited and the last of the payment collected, Asher escorted Kenana into Zoan, hailing a donkey-drawn cart. Once in the bustling city, he led the way to the great library, a massive stone edifice that rivaled some of the lesser pyramids she had seen with Malluch. Asher grinned at her admiration, and then led her through a side door into the cool building. As he searched for the librarian, Kenana, lured by the hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of tablets and scrolls, slipped away and perused the dusty shelves.

  She suspected that women were not allowed to search these shelves, but didn’t care. After all, was she not a princess?

  She found herself in a particularly dark corridor deep in the heart of the library. A short stack of clay tablets caught her eye. She glanced down the aisle, saw that she was indeed alone, then eased up on her tiptoes and scanned the first tablet. It appeared fresh, as if recently etched. To her delight, she saw that it was written in Aramaic.

  Yes, she could read Aramaic!

  She clapped happily, then immediately regretted doing so as the sound reverberated up and down the dark corridor.

  She read further and realized that she not only could read the Aramaic but that she recognized the handwriting! Indeed, it was her grandfather Enoch’s writing!

  This is a sign, she thought, perhaps he is near.

  For several moments, she read her grandfather’s sacred writings, appreciating all the wisdom contained within. At the bottom of each was Prophet Enoch’s signature and stamp. One prayer in particular stood out for her: “I lift up my hands and bless the holy and great One. Blessed art Thou, O great and powerful King of greatness, Lord of all the creatures of heaven, creator of the whole world, whose majesty endures forever and ever.”

  I want to know El like this, she thought.

  So absorbed was she in reading her grandfather’s wisdom that she neglected to hear the soft footfalls behind her. A hand touched her forearm. Startled, she almost dropped the clay tablet she had been reading. She spun around to find an old man looking up at her, squinting as if he were looking into the sun. His gray eyebrows bunched together in a long furry caterpillar. He was shaking his head and mumbling in Egyptian.

  “I don’t understand,” said Kenana in her own Mesopotamian tongue, hoping the old man might be familiar with it.

  “Ah,” he said after she had spoken, “not only is a woman defiling our sacred texts, but she is a foreigner as well.”

  “My grandfather wrote these,” Kenana said. “And I am most certainly not defiling them. I have a right to read them as much as anyone.”

  Still holding her arm in a vice-like grip, a bemused expression crossed his features. “Who is your grandfather, girl?”

  “The prophet, Enoch.”

  “We call him He-Who-Speaks-of-Mysteries.”

  Kenana grinned as well. “That would be him. Tell me, has he been here recently? These tablets are new.”

  More footsteps sounded along the corridor. Kenana, who stood a head taller than the old librarian, caught sight of a disapproving Asher turning a corner.

  “Release her, sir,” said Asher. “She is the Princess Kenana, wife of Prince Jubal. I will not have you debasing her.”

  The old man did as he was told. “A princess? My apologies.”

  “Accepted,” said Kenana. “Now, tell me, when was my grandfather last here?”

  “Just yesterday. He often deposits his writing here when he is in the city.”

  In the city! “Then he might still be here.”

  “Yes, he is in Zoan.”

  “Where?” Kenana was breathless. She could hardly believe her good fortune.

  The librarian smiled broadly. “Why, he stays with me, as a guest of honor.”

  Kenana thanked him and, with Asher carrying a short stack of fresh moist tablets, left the great library. Kenana silently vowed she would seek out her grandfather, alone, and as soon as possible.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  When Kenana and Asher returned to the inn, they found a little man dressed in priest robes waiting outside. He stepped out of the shadows and approached, but Asher promptly blocked his path and said, “State your business.”

  The man blinked rapidly, clearly terrified by the tall head servant.

  “I am here to deliver an invitation to Princess Kenana.”

  “On behalf of whom?”

  “The High Priest.”

  “Dr. Rue?” asked Kenana.

  “Yes, you and your servants have been invited to a celebration being held tonight at his estate.”

  “But I thought he set off to Jubal’s aid,” said Kenana.

  “As well he did. The party will go on, nonetheless.”

  Kenana, unable to resist a celebration of any kind, clapped and said, “I gladly accept your invitation for myself and my servants.”

  The man nodded, gave a furtive glance toward Asher, and scuttled off into the night.

  “Well, Asher,” said Kenana. “You will be my escort tonight.”

  “As you wish, my lady.”

  He blushed mightily.

  *

  After spending the afternoon applying each other’s cosmetics and doing each other’s hair, Kenana and Sarah descended the inn’s stairs together. There, they were met by Asher and Tall, both looking dashing in their embroidered white robes. Sarah was dressed in a beautiful green tunic, one of Kenana’s. Tall stared at her openly, his lips moving but with no words coming out.

  “Doesn’t she look beautifu
l, Tall?” said Kenana, grinning, helping the tongue-tied man.

  He blinked and seemed to come back to earth. “Yes, she does, I mean, yes, you do. I mean, Sarah, you are the most beautiful woman in all of Egypt.”

  Kenana took Asher’s proffered hand. He said quietly into her ear: “I beg to differ. Although Sarah looks beautiful on this night, she is certainly not the most beautiful in Egypt.” He squeezed her hand, and Kenana blushed furiously.

  A waiting carriage transported them into town, stopping before a three-story structure ablaze in torchlight. A small group of people, all properly dressed in tunics and shawls and robes, were heading through an open door.

  When Kenana stepped inside, she was met with thunderous applause. Kenana blinked furiously in the bright torchlight, momentarily blinded. When her vision cleared, she saw that everyone was smiling at her. Beside her, Sarah was beaming and clapping.

  “What’s going on?” Kenana asked, whispering from the side of her mouth. Her face felt hot.

  “Dr. Rue paid for this dinner in honor of Prince Jubal,” said Asher from behind her, resting a hand at the small of her back.

  Kenana would later understand that many important Egyptians were here, all dressed regally. Even some passengers from the ship had come, including the rugged Captain Zadok, who sat comfortably with the city lords at the head table. The wine, food, and adornments were extravagant.

  Kenana nudged Sarah. “You knew about this, didn’t you?” Her servant nodded, beaming. Kenana continued, “How did you keep it a secret?”

  “Easily. I just found out from Tall this morning.”

  Kenana was ushered to the head table. The people there nodded pleasantly, and Kenana realized then that Jubal, despite his faults, was a highly respected prince. She beamed, momentarily proud to be his wife.

  Asher had joined the band and was playing the double flute, Jubal’s newest invention. The head servant looked magnificent, and Kenana noted many women casting him sidelong glances. As she watched Asher, he looked up and their eyes met. He winked, and she instantly blushed and turned away. How much hotter could her face get? She would soon pop!