by Summer Lee
Kenana bowed slightly. “Yes, ma’am.”
Several household servants, all dressed in dingy beige tunics, appeared next. The servants moved in unison and lined the pathway before her. They turned as one and faced the door, waiting patiently. Next, a well-dressed hireling stepped out. The attendant’s gray eyes and strong nose instantly intrigued Kenana.
I’d enjoy a few nights by the fire circle with that one, she thought.
The handsome servant blew on a cylindrical reed pipe, emitting a hauntingly beautiful trumpet, then announced formally: “I present to you Mesopotamia’s famous monarch and musician, son of King Lamech, and honored by many. The majestic Prince Jubal, Lord of Adah.”
The prince came through the door, and Kenana bowed humbly. Dressed in a multi-colored cloak, planting his walking cane firmly on the ground with each step, the stocky prince walked toward her. Prince Jubal projected a strong, almost overbearing presence. He was broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, as he had once been a physically powerful man. But now, he was only a shell of that man. Kenana was shocked to see that his back had become bent with age and that he had to use a cane to walk. His servants stepped aside, bowing deeply.
Prince Jubal smiled and took her hand in his now-wrinkled one. She tried not to cringe at the sight of the slight hump on his back. She had not seen him for some years. He had not aged well.
“Kenana, dear! Welcome to your new home.” His voice was soft and raspy; he sounded ill.
She forced a smile. “Thank you, your majesty,” she said, and received the customary kiss on each cheek. She added, “I bring peace from my father.”
He nodded. “I trust you had a pleasant trip.”
“Yes, sire. Thank you.” She would not tell Prince Jubal how treacherous a journey it had been, or how tiring. Her mother had told her never to complain to Prince Jubal about anything. That was her sole marriage advice.
“You look as lovely as ever. You have grown into a beautiful woman.”
“Thank you, sire.” Kenana glanced at the surrounding servants. Upon arrival, she had meant to have a word alone with Prince Jubal. “Sire, may we perhaps speak in private?”
Irritation flashed in his intelligent eyes at her request. Kenana sensed that he was not a man to question. But then he smiled warmly, in complete control, and motioned for her to follow him. “Of course, my dear. Walk with me.”
Perhaps a little too roughly, he took hold of her elbow. She could hear his labored breathing wheezing through his nostrils. His iron-tipped cane pummeled the stone walkway as if he meant to drive it through the stone.
“What can I do for you?” he asked when they were alone.
Kenana considered his question, wondering how freely she could speak her mind to the prince. But her problem weighed heavily on her, and so she decided to plunge forward. It was best to speak now before she was his property in marriage.
“Most Sethites consider marriage to a Cainite bad luck,” she said. “So, I do not understand why my parents agreed to this marriage—or why you purchased me to be your wife.”
His cane dropped in a thunderous crash. The flagstones beneath her feet shuddered. She jumped. He inhaled deeply again, and this time it was through flared nostrils. She unconsciously stepped back.
“My decisions are never to be questioned. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sire.”
He paused. A cold wind rustled her robe and lifted her long blonde hair. He studied her face curiously. “I’ve considered propositions from the richest families in the land to enter into marriage with their daughters. This is an honor beyond comprehension. Especially for a farmer’s daughter. Do you understand how far beneath me I have gone to make you my wife?”
That humbled her right away. “Yes, sire.”
He took her hand, his face softening. “I am not a difficult taskmaster. Be unquestioning and obedient and I will treat you fairly.”
“Yes, sire.”
“You must be fatigued, my dear Kenana. Come inside and freshen up.”
At this point, Kenana wanted a bath, a nap, and a good cry in private.
He led the way, and Kenana obediently followed through the heavy front door and into a spacious central courtyard. Behind, the handsome servant picked up Kenana’s pigskin satchel and followed them inside. She caught his eye and smiled. He glanced back at her, and his gray eyes were full of compassion. Somehow, she knew she had a friend in this man.
Jubal nudged her arm. “This is our head servant, Asher. He will be available to you at all times.”
“It will be a pleasure to serve you,” he said, bowing.
She nodded. Asher bowed and climbed a narrow staircase to the upper balcony. He disappeared through an upstairs door.
To her right, several shabbily clad female servants stood on the kitchen steps, giggling and pointing.
“Go!” demanded the prince. They squealed and scrambled down a flight of narrow stairs, which Kenana knew led to the basement kitchen. She remembered the layout from her previous visits as a child.
“Ignore their foolishness,” said Jubal. “They are simple-minded slaves. I did them a favor by rescuing them from poverty. Come, I want to show you where our marriage ceremony will take place.”
As they moved across the sturdy flagstones and passed brightly painted walls, she was surprised to discover that the palace seemed much smaller than she remembered. As a child, the palace had seemed eternal and endless.
She followed the prince into a richly decorated reception hall filled with pottery and silver sconces. Elaborate red and yellow mosaic tile covered the floor.
Despite herself, Kenana clapped. “It is more beautiful than I remember.”
“I had the room refurbished just for you.”
“Oh, thank you, sire.”
He smiled broadly, pleased. “Are you thirsty, my dear? I can have my housekeeper serve you tea.”
“Thank you, sire. But I need to freshen up first.”
“Of course.”
The prince called up the stairs, and the immaculate Asher reappeared and directed her up a wide flight of stairs to the living quarters. The man moved confidently and effortlessly, in total control of himself and his surroundings. Maidservants smiled at him warmly. He appeared to ignore them in return, although he might have nodded imperceptibly. He led Kenana down a flagstone hallway, decorated with sculptures and paintings by the area’s greatest artists, and opened a heavy oak door.
He bowed gracefully. “Your suite, madam.”
Kenana smiled and nodded and moved past him into the room. The room was ornately decorated and massive beyond belief. Kenana had grown up in a large family, where space was at a premium. That such a palatial room, bigger than her parents’ entire house, was now hers. This amount of space and the trappings in it were beyond her wildest dreams. The room was furnished with a canopied bed with down pillows and comforter, a beautifully carved sitting table and chairs, a lounge for reclining in, and even a lion’s hide was stretched on the floor before her. At the far end of the room, a bay window overlooked the palace gardens. And for the first time since beginning this journey, she was beginning to feel like a princess. She discovered that she was smiling.
Asher was watching her with bemused eyes. “Does the room suit the lady?”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, stepping inside, bending down to stroke the coarse lion’s mane.
“I’m glad you like it, madam.” The words purred off his tongue, and she turned to face him. Their eyes met and a sensation of pure pleasure raced through her. It was an emotion she had never felt before, and she liked it.
He stepped forward and took her hand. “Please call me for anything. My job is to keep you safe and happy.”
His touch was gentle; his hands were thick and strong. The generosity of his words briefly overwhelmed her. “Thank you, Asher,” she said. “At home, my father was my protector. Here, I fear that Jubal might be too old to be of much use. As to the happy part, well…”
/> Asher laughed gently, easily. “Master Jubal can wield his cane like a sword. I’ve seen him bash more than one skull with it. Don’t cross him.”
Kenana nervously laughed with him. “That doesn’t soothe my fears in the least.”
“Just stay close to the palace,” he added, stepping back into the hall. “You’ll be safe here. Because I am here. And because you will be the princess, you will have a period of grace to become accustomed to this new life.”
“I will stay close to the palace,” she promised.
He departed, shutting the door softly behind him. Kenana sat on the edge of her raised bed, sinking deep into the plush comforters.
She wondered what it was about the head servant that had sparked such a pleasant response in her when they were alone, when all he displayed outwardly was a dignified and noble grace. She had never met a man like Asher.
Chapter Three
The bath was wonderful. The slave girls hauled the heated water, filled a small copper tub and helped her to sit down in it.
They even helped her to wash her hair and scrubbed her back and legs for her. They plucked her brows into arches and massaged her feet. They hauled away the dirty water and gave her a fine robe to wear. They fussed over her travel-grimed nails and trimmed them after they washed her fingers with stiff brushes that left them clean and pink. They perfumed her entire body with fragrant attar of roses. Had she ever been this clean or pampered in her life? She doubted it.
“Thank you. That will be all,” she finally said.
They giggled and carrying the tub, they left her suite.
Kenana stood alone in her room, gazing from her window into the majestic gardens below. It was night, and the sun had set long ago. From her second story, she could see the rows of immaculately cultivated blossoms glowing in the oil lights that lined the many paths through the gardens. She could faintly see Bo and Gauss laying on a rough woven mat in the garden and looking at the moonlight. Other male slaves were out in the garden, too. She could hear women talking on the roof, and guessed that was where the female slaves bedded down in hot weather.
The slave girls had left her a full basin of water to be used to cleanse her face in the morning. It was scented with sweet-smelling wildflowers that soothed and perfumed her hot skin when she splashed some on herself.
She fanned herself with a small palm leaf they had left for her. The nights were hotter here than at home.
Life was changing. Being the youngest daughter of four, she had been often admonished but never cherished. In a farmer’s household, more women were a liability unless they worked in the fields, which Kenana had. She had been alive but she had not been loved.
Now, she would become an object of respect and envy—perhaps even jealousy and hatred. She would marry the honored Jubal, Prince of Adah, and masterful creator of fine musical instruments. As princess, she would be in a position of wealth and honor, a position coveted by many young girls. But it was not an envied position in Kenana’s view. In her heart, she was sad and fearful.
There was a tapping of his cane on the floor in the hallway and she knew that Prince Jubal approached. She would learn that he was unable to move about more than a few steps without it.
The door opened without a knock and Prince Jubal appeared in her room, leaning heavily on his cane and breathing hard. His wide flat face was sweating profusely. There was food in his beard. He extended his hand toward her. “May I come in?”
“Certainly.”
He did so, clicking his cane across the floor. “I’ve asked Debra to serve us tea in here. We must get acquainted, and there is more privacy here than downstairs.”
He motioned for her to sit on the queen’s settee, a soft scarlet cushion with a white fringe. She did so, and he sat beside her, his old knees popping like embers in a fire. There was a sharp rap on the open door and the housekeeper entered the room. The woman, who was pretty in a simple way, completely ignored Kenana, pouring tea into jars.
“Kenana, this is Debra, my personal servant. Debra, do welcome my future bride.”
“We are pleased to have you, Miss Kenana,” said Debra. But she did not look pleased. She looked irritated. In fact, she might have even scowled when uttering the words. Either way, Jubal didn’t appear to notice.
“That will be all, Debra,” Jubal said, and the maid sulked out of the room.
“What’s wrong with your housekeeper?” Kenana asked. “Is she always that rude?”
Jubal laughed. “She’s just jealous. I think she secretly believed that I would marry her. After all, there are few women that I spend more time with than Debra.”
Kenana quietly sipped her tea and wondered what the old prince meant by that. “I see,” she said, though she didn’t.
“Before we begin, do you have any questions for me?”
“Actually, yes. What are my chores?”
He snorted and threw back his head. “Chores? Why, you will be the princess of Adah. You have no chores! Chores are for farm girls! And slaves. Not princesses!”
Kenana felt herself redden. She had assumed even wives or princesses had chores. “I-I see.”
When he had regained control of his laughter, he rested a soft hand on her forearm. “I want to hear news of your family.”
“They are well.”
“And your grandfather?”
“My grandfather, my lord?” she asked, confused.
Jubal had a wide, dubious grin on his face. “Yes, dear, your grandfather.”
“Which one? I have two.”
“Enoch. The Great Diviner.”
“Why him, sire? He’s a very old man. He may not be in good health.”
“He’s the region’s most revered prophet. It is said that he knows the secrets of the universe, and holds the keys to the future.” Jubal’s eyes sparkled. “I would like to meet him.”
Is that why you want to marry me? she wondered with sudden insight. To get close to my grandfather?
She replied honestly. “I know very little about him.”
“Surely you know of his magical words and visions of angels?”
She had heard mystical stories about her grandfather, it was true. He spoke of cosmic forces, supernatural beings traveling at the speed of light, and star dwellers. Stories that scared her. But she knew very little about his prophetic gifts. She had never been taken to his residence, and only once had he visited her home.
“I can’t help you,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
He set his teacup down loudly. “My dear, you will help me in this matter. I want to know of your grandfather, Enoch.”
“But I really don’t know anything about him.”
He made a colossal effort to remain calm. Instead, he breathed deeply, filling that barrel chest of his with air. He let it out slowly. “All right, we won’t talk about this now, Kenana, dear.” He paused. “Kenana is a strange name for a woman. Where did you get it?”
“My father named me after an ancestor. It is feminine for Kenan, a man of El. My friends and family call me Keni.” She looked up shyly. “You may call me Keni if you prefer. My sisters called me that.”
“I do like that better. Keni it is.” He looked at her approvingly. “But not the servants. They will address you formally as Madam Kenana or after we are married, as Princess Kenana. Speaking of which....”
Jubal tapped his cane loudly on the floor. A very pretty girl with high cheekbones entered the room with a hint of a smile on her face. She was dressed neatly in a flowing blue tunic, which she wore well over round hips. Kenana felt an initial wave of jealousy.
“Meet Sarah,” said Jubal. “Your personal maid.”
Sarah extended her hand warmly, and all feelings of jealousy were washed away by her earnestness. “Hello, Madam Kenana. It will be an honor to serve you.”
“She is a wedding gift to you,” said Jubal proudly, pulling himself up with his cane. “She will be your personal maid and companion.”
“Thank you, your Lordship.�
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Behind her, an extremely tall, thin hireling with a long red beard appeared. He wore a pleasant expression, and seemed genuinely pleased to see her. He was carrying a cowhide pouch. He bowed.
Jubal said, “Meet Tall.”
“Hello, Tall,” said Kenana.
“Hello, madam.”
“Tall has brought you a gift from me.”
The appropriately named Tall opened the leather pouch which contained new linen tunics with matching cloaks. He removed colorful shawls and sashes with embroidered borders.
“These are lovely!” Kenana turned to the prince, eyes glowing. It had been a long time since she had received any new clothing. Most of her clothes were hand-me-downs from her older sisters. “Thank you, sire,” she whispered. “You are very kind and generous.”
“You’re welcome, my dear. Do you see how it works now? I give you what you want and you give me what I want.”
Kenana knew he was talking about her grandfather. Or maybe he was talking about an heir? Before she could speak, her new maidservant jumped in. “I will put these away for you, Madam Kenana.”
“Thank you, Sarah.”
“Come, Tall,” said Jubal. “My dear Kenana needs her rest. We all need our rest, for tomorrow is a big day.” The old prince kissed Kenana on both cheeks, winking. “Your grandfather’s sacred secret could be your wedding gift to me. You’ll find a way to get the information for me, I trust.”
As he left with the tall servant, Sarah took Kenana’s hand like an old friend. “Come, my lady. Let me help you get ready for bed.”
Chapter Four
Kenana awakened the next morning to the startling sounds of shouting and clanging.
She leapt out of bed, raced across her room and out onto the balcony. The hanging gardens below made a gorgeous frame for the courtyard, where she saw slaves positioning dozens of short wooden tables and reclining cushions. Others arranged clay pots stuffed with ferns and almond blossoms. The entire courtyard was covered with hundreds of flowers of every variety. She gasped, clapping.
Below, Prince Jubal himself strode out into the courtyard, his iron-tipped cane, beating a staccato against the stone. Slaves and servants paused and bowed as he moved to one corner where the musical instruments were being set up. He turned and caught sight of her. He smiled broadly.