Ormah straightened, restless beside Shoshannah. The young magician-priest gave her a forbidding look, causing the maidservant to swallow nervously. Rab-Mawg eyed Shoshannah.
“For your lessons today, you’ll draw the signs in the stars that you studied most recently. Then I will show you the proper way to approach the altar of our Shemesh during a ceremony; you’ve been disrespectful coming and going through the temple.”
Shoshannah nodded, relieved. He hadn’t mentioned that she must learn any words or praises to his god. Perhaps she would escape that terrible duty for today. Feeling awkward in the gold cuffs and rings, she pressed out a soft tablet of clay, flattening it carefully. Now, holding a slender reed marker, Shoshannah closed her eyes, trying to remember the last wretched nighttime lesson. What were those patterns in the stars?
“Move, Perek!” Sharah’s voice echoed through the temple into the secluded area. “Go find your Master Ra-Anan and stay there!”
She sounds so angry… Hearing Sharah’s swift footsteps, Shoshannah frantically tried to remove her rings, but she wasn’t quick enough. The Queen of the Heavens flung the full linen curtains apart and stormed into the secluded area, her pale eyes immediately flashing to her niece.
“What’s this?” Sharah demanded, slapping a hand toward Shoshannah’s head, snatching the gold band and thrusting it beneath the hostile Rab-Mawg’s nose. “I warned everyone that she is not to be honored in any way here! Particularly not with her mother’s status in this temple!”
“She’s bound to this temple by the same oath that binds you, Lady,” Rab-Mawg said angrily, leaning toward Sharah, clearly eager to quarrel with her. “If she doesn’t fulfill her mother’s oaths, then you must.”
“Who are you to tell me what I should do? You’re no one! You’re a miserable priest—and you won’t be that for much longer!” Sharah screeched, her hands flailing in uncontrolled fury.
Ormah was scuttling away, apparently bent on escape. Shoshannah was bent on the same thought, but the Queen of the Heavens pointed at her, screaming, “She’s leaving this place now—with me—and she won’t return!”
“That’s not for you to say!” Rab-Mawg snarled, putting his face directly in front of Sharah’s. She struck at him with the gold circlet she had snatched from Shoshannah’s head. The irate priest dashed the circlet away; it fell ringing against the stone floor, provoking Sharah further. She clawed toward him. He grabbed her wrists and shoved her viciously, their confrontation becoming a violent struggle.
Alarmed, Shoshannah jumped up and retreated as the priest and the proud would-be Queen of the Heavens went sprawling into the linen curtains, shredding them down. The Lady Sharah was wild with rage, clawing, kicking, biting, becoming entangled in the curtains like a fish in a net. Rab-Mawg flung more fabric over her thrashing limbs, then dragged her away from his beloved temple area, toward the carved stone brazier. Sharah was screeching unintelligible threats against the priest. Equally maddened, he seized the stone brazier and bludgeoned her, ashes and dead coals falling like dark spattering rain. Sharah screamed horribly, desperately.
He’s killing her! Panicked, Shoshannah turned to call for help. Adoniyram was behind her, watching, unmoving as a carving. “We must help her!” Shoshannah gasped. She glanced toward the Lady Sharah and Rab-Mawg again. Sharah was struggling feebly within the linen curtains now, her cries fading beneath the magician-priest’s frenzied blows. Shoshannah averted her gaze, horrified—the linen was deeply stained with blood.
Now Adoniyram moved, grabbing Shoshannah’s elbow and pulling her toward the temple door. “Hurry, or you might be next!”
She went with him, stumbling down the stairs, pleading, “We have to help her! Adoniyram…”
He seemed to not hear.
Twenty-Six
“YOU HAVE TO HELP HER—she’s your mother!” Shoshannah pleaded, breathless and frantic as Adoniyram rushed her down the steps.
“There was nothing I could do; you saw what happened.” Adoniyram looked upset, but he sounded unexpectedly reasonable. “It was stupid of her to quarrel with Rab-Mawg. I tried to warn her, but she never listens to anyone.”
But you could have saved her, Shoshannah argued silently. Horrible as Sharah was, still she was his mother. “Perek and the others might have gone to help her.”
Adoniyram didn’t answer.
Shoshannah glanced up at him, trying to comprehend his feelings. He was frowning at the servants and guards in the temple yard below. Didn’t he care that his mother was probably dead? There had been so much blood on the curtains… and Sharah’s awful cries… The memory made Shoshannah waver and stumble.
Adoniyram gripped her arm, dragging her from the steps. Loudly, he called to Sharah’s and Ra-Anan’s servants, “Get up there! Help my mother!”
The servants all stared, then bowed and ran up to the temple. Ormah had apparently gone to find Ra-Anan; Shoshannah didn’t see either of them. Adoniyram pulled her toward her horse. “Hurry. We have to get you out of here. If my mother is alive, she’ll insist upon killing Rab-Mawg and you.”
Knowing he was probably right—about this at least—Shoshannah dashed to her horse. Adoniyram helped her up, then swiftly bounded onto his own restless creature. Anxious, Shoshannah looked around for Kaleb. He always accompanied Adoniyram. Why wasn’t he here now?
Kal, what’s happened to you? As Shoshannah envisioned the dreadful things that might have happened to Kaleb, Lord Kuwsh rode into the temple yard, accompanied by a number of guardsmen. He flung himself off his horse, glaring at Adoniyram.
“Where’s your mother?”
Adoniyram nodded toward the tower. “She and Rab-Mawg have quarreled.”
Followed by his guardsmen, Lord Kuwsh rushed up the stairs.
Adoniyram quickly leaned over and grabbed Shoshannah’s horse by its bridle. “Let’s go.”
Shoshannah stared at Adoniyram, dazed, wondering how he could be so calm. Her own terror was eating at her like some merciless predator shredding a living victim. O Most High… She pleaded for His help over and over in wordless, jumbled anguish.
Rab-Mawg set down the stone brazier, leaning upon it heavily, his head pounding, his rage fading as he gazed at the unmoving, linen-wrapped body before him. Had he killed their Queen of the Heavens? Agitated, he sought a life pulse in her wrist but found none. I only wanted to subdue her… I was defending myself… She was insane … Excuses filled his mind, balancing his fears. Adoniyram, the maidservant, and that girl, Shoshannah, had all witnessed the confrontation—they knew the truth. But they had all fled, leaving him to deal with the aftermath. Traitor, he thought of Adoniyram. You don’t deserve my loyalty; you’ve deserted me for protecting myself and my temple.
He was right. He would tell his accusers so. Even now, he heard rough footsteps scuffling inside his temple. Sharah’s and Ra-Anan’s servants surrounded him, their faces all alike, shocked and disbelieving. Standing, he lifted his chin defiantly. Cowards, all of you!
“That was Kuwsh riding past us with his guards,” Shem told Annah as they sat in the merchant Tso’bebaw’s booth, their faces shielded with borrowed lengths of linen. “I have no doubt!”
“Should we go after him?” Annah asked reluctantly, distressed by her husband’s anger at Kuwsh’s gold-decked, power-flaunting pride.
His eyes very wide, dark, and kindling, Shem stood and offered Annah one long, work-hardened hand. Breathing a silent prayer heavenward, Annah drew the linen across her face, covering all but her eyes. Then she accepted her husband’s hand.
Ezriy, son of the faithful Yabal and Meherah, started to his feet, but Shem refused the young man’s protection firmly, gratefully, clasping his shoulder. “Thank you, Ezriy, but you must stay here.”
The gentle merchant Tso’bebaw almost wept as they parted, whispering aloud, “Living Word, protect them! Spare all their lives…”
Throughout the morning, Meherah had been praying while she worked, as her dear Yabal had been praying. Surely Zekaryah
and Keren would survive. There had been too much death. O You who sees us, let it be enough.
In her stately home, the Lady Achlai, wife of Lord Kuwsh, left her four youngest sons and daughters-in-law to finish their late, lingering morning meal. They were happy and laughing. She didn’t want to worry them with her tears. In her own room, she huddled down on a mat, weeping, longing for a compassionate and final end to her husband’s rage, his craving for vengeance. And, yes, for his ambition. Forgive him! Forgive us.
Let Us, then, go down …
Sick with dread, Annah walked north with her beloved husband through the crowded, brick-paved market street. She hated this loud, bustling, rude city, all that it meant, and all that it might yet become. How offensive it must be to the Most High! Worst of all, however, was that wretched tower—the symbol of Nimr-Rada’s flagrant rebellion. The symbol so adored and uplifted by all these people. And there were so many people. It frightened Annah to think that these were her own descendants. Grief fell upon her, pitiless, heaped with regrets. Have I somehow turned them against You?
At the end of the market street, Shem stopped, and Annah paused with him, staring across the rippling, glittering waters of the canal that separated them from the tower. They had only to cross the hewn wooden bridge to find Kuwsh, Annah was sure. But she didn’t want to move. And apparently, neither did Shem. Curious, Annah looked at her husband. His hand tightened around hers, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was watching a traveler, robed and covered much as they were covered. Do we know this man? Annah wondered.
As if to answer her question, the traveler turned and looked at them. He could have been anyone’s son: brown skin, dark hair, brown eyes. An ordinary man. But his expression… His eyes were passionately, vividly alive and full of… everything. Strange yet wonderfully familiar. He trusts the Most High… His Presence is here.
Nodding politely, the traveler turned away from the tower and walked past Shem and Annah into the city, vanishing among the crowd. Annah stared after the man, wishing they had spoken to him. He didn’t seem to belong here any more than she and her husband did.
A breeze fluttered lightly past Annah’s head covering, easing the midmorning warmth. Shem started to say something to her, but they were both distracted by the thudding clatter of horses charging off the wooden bridge. Two horses passed, ridden by Sharah’s son, Adoniyram, and a richly clad young woman with flowing dark brown curls. It took Annah an instant to recognize her. Shoshannah.
Raising her voice, she cried, “Shoshannah!”
But it was already too late. Adoniyram had turned their horses into the market street, barely slowing their pace. Shoshannah looked around almost wildly, without seeing Annah and Shem. The crowds in the street parted for the two young riders, then surged together again.
“She’s more important to us than Kuwsh,” Shem decided aloud. They turned and followed Shoshannah.
Shoshannah heard a woman calling her name—someone who sounded amazingly like I’ma-Annah. She looked around desperately but recognized no one in the crowd. Adoniyram was riding too fast; he was frightening her.
“Please, Adoniyram, slow down. There’s no need for us to hurry so.”
“There is,” he insisted, his usually charming features cold. “We have to hide you away until I’m sure you’ll be safe.”
“I’ll be safe. Ra-Anan won’t kill me because of what’s happened. Slow down, Adoniyram, please. If you’re so worried, you should have brought your guardsman.”
“There wasn’t time.”
“He might have saved your mother from—” “Don’t speak of her again.”
Now his tone, his whole attitude, frightened her more than his riding. Had he wanted his mother to die? You did! she thought, horrified, convinced she was right. You wanted your mother dead. The realization choked down all her arguments. If he could be so cruel that he would seek his own mother’s death, then he would certainly turn against her if she pushed him too far. I don’t understand you! Nor do I want to.
She was relieved to finally see Ra-Anan’s walled home. As soon as she was inside, she would run to Demamah’s room and stay there. She would never again speak to Adoniyram willingly. Never. To her shock, Adoniyram urged her horse past Ra-Anan’s gate. She couldn’t help calling out, “Stop! Adoniyram, where are you going?”
“Where you’ll be safe.” Obstinate—definitely lordlike—he said, “Shoshannah, if you start a scene, I give you my word I’ll finish it. Now, listen to me; trust me; I’ll be sure you’re protected. You’ll have no need…”
She felt a breathlike breeze, stirring both fear and wonder. Adoniyram was still speaking to her, but she couldn’t understand him. She stared at his face, trying to comprehend his words. He was serious… and she didn’t understand the chopped, garbled syllables emerging from his lips. I don’t understand… He’s speaking to me… and I don’t understand. It’s all been too much; I’m going mad.
Other voices lifted around her throughout the street, garbled like Adoniyram’s but different. I am going mad.
Adoniyram looked away from her now, turning them toward a wall-enclosed residence, whistling sharply to the guardsmen. They seemed bewildered as they opened the wooden gate and bowed.
This must be his residence, Shoshannah told herself, looking around inside the unadorned garden courtyard. Her panic heightened. He’s taking me into his household!
Frantically, she scrambled off her horse and ran, but Adoniyram caught her arm before she even reached the gate, which the guardsmen had already closed. At once, Shoshannah dropped to her knees on the hard brick pavings. She would not go inside with him.
To her surprise, Adoniyram knelt with her, gripping her gold-cuffed wrists painfully but talking quietly, his appearance rational, his voice garbled and mangled unintelligibly. Overcome by her failing senses, by everything, Shoshannah felt herself breaking down into tears. “I don’t understand what you’re saying! Adoniyram, please, I don’t understand.”
What is she babbling? Adoniyram stared at Shoshannah, incredulous. She couldn’t be joking at a time like this. Watching her hard, he realized she was serious. She was crying, her gray eyes were huge, bright with tears, almost wild as she pleaded with him in low, clipped phrases he couldn’t comprehend. The only word Adoniyram could even half understand from her lips was his own name, and she was drawing it out all wrong. Was she that frightened of him? Wrapping his arms around her, trying to soothe her, he said, “Shoshannah, beloved, why are you so afraid? Calm yourself.”
His words had the opposite effect. She cried despairingly, covering her ears, obviously pleading with him again but using words he couldn’t decipher.
Kaleb paused near the kitchen in Adoniyram’s home, baffled, listening. He was almost certain he could hear Shoshannah outside. Was she crying? Looking left and right, he leaned inside the hushed storeroom where he had hidden Zekaryah and I’ma-Keren. “Something’s happening outside. Wait here, I beg you. I’ll be right back.”
“Be safe,” I’ma-Keren whispered to him. Kaleb loved her for being concerned. She was in far more danger than he. Closing the door softly, he crept out to the courtyard and stared, appalled.
Two horses were nosing around the courtyard gardens for stray bits of greenery. And beyond them, near the gate, Adoniyram was kneeling on the bricked ground, holding Shoshannah in his arms. She was clutching her hands to her ears, crying, “I don’t understand! You’re not making sense! Adoniyram, stop this, please.”
Adoniyram’s other servants were backing away, looking thoroughly bewildered. Kaleb hoped they remained bewildered, because if Adoniyram didn’t take his hands off Shoshannah very soon, then Young Lord or not, he was going to be flattened like a lump of stomped clay.
Controlling himself strictly, Kaleb knelt near Adoniyram, gaining the young man’s attention. When Adoniyram threw him a secretive questioning look, Kal nodded tightly, knowing that he was wondering about their prisoners.
Yes, my lord, they are safe and in yo
ur household, but they won’t remain here, and neither will my wife.
Adoniyram spoke to Kal in skewered, warped bits of sound. A command, Kaleb realized, startled. Wonderful! This man has the power to kill me, and I don’t understand a single word of what he just said.
Shouts were arising in the streets outside the gate, women shrieking horribly, men snarling. Two guardsmen suddenly tumbled inside the gate, kneeling, burbling words at Adoniyram, making him stare at them, obviously confounded.
I didn’t understand them either, Kaleb thought, swallowing hard. Most High, has everyone forgotten how to talk?
Turning again, Adoniyram said something unintelligible to Kaleb. To Kal’s relief, however, Adoniyram followed the mumbled command with an unmistakable nonverbal look and a tilt of his head. He wanted Kaleb to take Shoshannah inside his residence. Kal nodded and bowed, then spoke to the now-hushed, tearful Shoshannah. “Come, Lady; I’ll be sure you are safe.”
“No.” Shoshannah shook her head. “I’m not going in there. Don’t you understand what he’s doing? He wants to make me his wife!”
“Understand me, please,” Kaleb said distinctly, fearing Adoniyram might suddenly recover his senses and comprehend what they were saying. “You’ll be safe; I’ll be sure of it.”
“Truly?”
“You have my word.”
Adoniyram felt Shoshannah trembling, but she seemed to recover as Kaleb spoke to her. She wiped her eyes, sucked in a shaky breath, and stood. Standing with her, Adoniyram kissed her wet cheek, then her hand, murmuring, “You’ll be safe; go inside, beloved. I’ll return to you as soon as I can.”
Shoshannah studied him again, clearly not understanding what he had said. But she followed Kaleb obediently. She had understood the big guardsman. How? Why didn’t I understand him? Mystified, Adoniyram watched Shoshannah until she was safely inside his house. Then he caught his horse and followed his scared, incoherent gatemen out into the streets. Whatever was happening, Adoniyram was determined to confront it. He could not allow chaos to take hold in his city. This is my kingdom now.
Crown in the Stars Page 28
