Her skin tingled with rage, but in a moment, a breath, the rage gave way to the too familiar shame. She pulled at the tunic, trying to raise it above her nearly exposed breasts, to no avail.
A knock on the outer door startled her, and before she could ponder her conflicting thoughts, Dabir stood before her, arm extended.
“My dear Rahab, how lovely you look tonight.”
She merely nodded, her throat too dry for words.
He chuckled. “You seem quite taken with yourself in that mirror.” He stepped closer and grasped her hand. Raising it above his head, he motioned for her to twirl about. “Ah yes. The fit is perfect, my dear.”
For a harlot. Though she did not say so.
“If you please the prince tonight, then tomorrow night we will begin to expand your services.” His smile and calculating look brought the heat, the rage, to the surface again. He viewed tonight as her unveiling to all of the wealthy men of Jericho, men who would happily line Dabir’s pockets if she pleased the prince.
“I see.” She looked away from his scrutiny.
“This is part of your debt, Rahab. You knew you had to earn your keep eventually.” He held her at arm’s length.
She lowered her head.
Silence filled the room until his coarse laughter broke its barrier. “You did not actually think that I was giving in to your pathetic begging to save your sister, did you?” He lifted her chin. “You did!” His continued laughter burned her like hot sand on bare skin. “I thought you wiser than that, Rahab.”
His words felt like one of Gamal’s slaps against her cheek. Her heart beat too fast, and she closed her eyes, grasping for dignity.
“No,” she whispered at last. “Of course I did not think so.” But she had hoped. What a fool she had been.
He studied her. “The truth is, Rahab, that Prince Nahid has shown interest in you from the beginning. When he invited me to pick the virgin, he said it in such a way that I knew it was not truly a virgin he wanted this time. This is why you will play this role and wed him tonight. After that, we will see what shall be done with you.”
“And if he is not pleased with me?” The question blurted from her, and she wished she could pull it back. She already knew the answer to that question.
Dabir looked at her for a long moment. “I have no doubt in your ability, my dear.” He ushered her from her chambers toward the waiting chariot. “Rest assured,” he said, bending close to her ear as they moved through the gate, “that you do not want to cross me. This is for us, Rahab. Together we will build a great fortune.”
How like Gamal he sounded!
She would never be free of the greed of fools.
9
Dabir held Rahab’s elbow as they walked past the king’s audience chamber into the anteroom where she would await her summons.
“The guards will escort you to stand behind the king as King Keret approaches. Do as I taught you and all will be well.” He left her then without so much as a backward glance.
Rahab wrapped both arms about her, surprised that Dabir had allowed her a multicolored cloak to be worn over her sheer clothing. At least for now she did not feel as though she were a slave at auction again. But as the noise from the audience chamber grew and Prince Nahid’s voice rose above the throng to demand his bride, her pulse quickened.
She glanced at the guard who stood watch at the side door. Sweat dampened her palms, and she realized too late that she should have eaten earlier when she’d had the chance. Now she felt nearly faint with hunger, anticipation . . . and fear.
“It’s time,” the guard said, dragging her wayward thoughts to what lay ahead.
One step at a time. She had little choice if she hoped to live past this night. To go against Dabir or to even attempt to run from her fate could land her back in that dank prison cell or worse. She had no wish to end her life. Not yet. Not when hope of redemption, of working her way out of this awful debt, still seemed possible.
She followed the guard through the antechamber door into a glittering room where sconces were lined up on either side from the throne to the main door. Marble steps interlaid with gold led to a golden throne where the king sat facing his son, Prince Nahid.
“King Pubala,” Prince Nahid said, using the fictitious name of the legendary king, “I demand that you grant me your daughter Hariya to become my wife, to obtain a son by her.”
“Who are you to demand anything from me?” his father, the king of Jericho, responded, playing the role.
“It is I who am conqueror. While you slept, my soldiers have marched upon this city. You are in our debt, oh king.” At Prince Nahid’s words, soldiers climbed the steps to the throne and surrounded the king.
Rahab felt a slight nudge, forcing her to step from behind a purple and golden curtain. Guards gripped her upper arms and escorted her to stand before King Keret.
“Hariya?”
“Yes, my lord,” Rahab said, lowering her gaze, then bowing at his feet.
He reached for her hand and lifted her up, intertwining their fingers. “Now you shall become my wife.”
She nodded, saying nothing, as Dabir had instructed her. Prince Nahid led her through the wide hall to the open doors. Courtiers clapped and minstrels played flutes and harps, while the steady beat of distant drums filled the palace courtyard.
The prince did not stop as they descended the steps of the palace, leading her, with the crowd following, to his apartments on the opposite side of the large square court. At the door to his own chambers, he turned her to face him.
“Oh Hariya, how beautiful you are.” He smiled, and it almost seemed genuine.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said, bowing low again, then returning his smile.
The crowd cheered as the prince removed her striped cloak. Whistles and a few remarks she wished she did not understand came from some of the men standing closest. Nahid took her hand and turned her to face the men, who now forced their way past the women to the front of the throng.
“My bride!” the prince exclaimed with too much enthusiasm.
Rahab stiffened, tamping down all emotion. The tunic and scarlet robe did little to hold her dignity, but she lifted her chin, courting a hint of defiance. She was beautiful. She knew it from the many hours she had spent staring at her reflection to please Dabir.
But as the men continued their ribald comments, she felt her defenses crumbling one stubborn thought at a time. Prince Nahid turned her in a circle once more, then swiftly pulled her into his arms and kissed her in sight of all. “Let us take this inside, shall we?” he whispered against her ear.
“Yes, my lord.” She shivered and wrapped her fingers tightly against his and followed him into his chambers.
“You will think me a fool to tell you this,” Prince Nahid said once the door to his bedchamber shut behind them. “But I did not originally intend to take you as they expect.” He sank onto a low couch and stretched his legs in front of him, crossing them at the ankles.
Rahab stood on a soft woolen rug, hands clasped in front of her, eyes downcast. “I do not understand.” Hadn’t Dabir insisted that the prince wanted her?
“That is, I do not normally sleep with the virgins.”
Silence settled between them, broken only by the distant drums and the sounds of men and women dancing in the courtyard outside the prince’s window. So Adara would have been safe with him? But no one would believe that she was truly still a virgin, and her life in the home of a husband would have been forfeit.
Rahab sighed softly. “But I am not a virgin.” Despite the humiliation it had cost her, she had made the right choice.
“No, you are not.” His voice was both gentle and commanding. “Look at me, Rahab.”
She glanced up from studying her feet, noticing the hand he extended that beckoned her to sit beside him on the plush cushions. She came slowly, warily.
He took her hand and rubbed his thumb over her palm. She swallowed and closed her eyes, willing her emotions into submission. She
could not stop him from doing what men would do, but she dare not give her heart to him. She was nothing to him. And he was nothing to her.
His fingers moved up her arm, and she could not stop the tingling. He cupped her cheek and then kissed her temple, his hands probing. Dabir would expect her to comply, to willingly give herself to this man for the simple fact that he was the prince of Jericho.
Her stomach knotted, reminding her that this man had ruined her life, had sold her into slavery. She stiffened.
He pulled back and held her at arm’s length.
“I am sorry about Gamal,” he said. She startled at this sudden turn of thought and met his gaze, saw the sorrow in his dark eyes. Was he lying just to force her to melt in his arms?
“You are kind to say so, my lord.” She could not so easily accept such words.
He searched her face, slowly letting his gaze take in the rest of her. “Dabir was right. You are indeed very beautiful.”
She shivered again at his touch, felt his fingers slide over her shoulder once more. His kiss gentled as he drew her closer.
“If you but say the word, I will purchase you from Dabir.”
She blinked, stared into his earnest dark eyes. “Purchase me, my lord?” If he’d wanted her so badly, why did he allow Dabir to claim her in the first place? Dabir’s face flitted in her mind’s eye, purpled with rage. She was his investment. This is for us, Rahab. Together we will build a great fortune. But at what cost to her?
“I would pay what is owed to Dabir in order for you to give me an heir.” He twisted a strand of her hair, then carefully released the combs, letting the full length of it tumble about her shoulders. He leaned in, his hot breath on her face, his lips claiming hers, possessive, determined. Was he serious?
She caught her breath as he drew back to search her face. “Does this please you?” he asked.
That he should care to please her at all made no sense. “Forgive me, my lord, but how can the child of a slave be of any importance to you? Would not your other sons hate him and try to destroy him?” She had heard tales of such things happening in other kingdoms from Cala.
He leaned against the couch again, pulling away from her. “I am the son of a slave woman, Rahab. Did you not know this?”
She lifted a brow, surprised at the revelation. “No, my lord. I was not aware.” A thousand questions filled her mind. If his mother was a slave, how did he hold such a place of prominence in the kingdom? Awareness suddenly dawned as she recalled Cala’s comments to her one afternoon.
“You have only sisters.” She looked at him. Saw his face darken, followed by a curt nod.
He stood abruptly and walked to the window but did not part the curtains. She sat where she was, uncertain what to do next. He turned but did not move toward her, extending his hand instead. She rose and came to him.
“I never sleep with the virgins,” he said with greater emphasis this time, “at these festivals. It is always expected, but I refuse to put these unsuspecting young girls into a harem to be forgotten as my mother was.” He paused. “Despite the fact that she produced a male heir when my father’s wives could not, he dared not give her the favor she deserved, lest he anger the kings of the nations of his wives.” His smile grew thoughtful, and he sifted his hands through her undone hair. “When the feast ends, I quietly send the virgins home.”
Rahab processed his words. “But you cannot send me home.”
He shook his head. “But I can take you from Dabir. I would treat you kindly.”
“I don’t know what to say, my lord.” Did he know Dabir’s plans for her? She bowed at his feet. “I am my lord’s servant.”
His arms came around her and he pulled her to him. His kiss lingered. A soft groan escaped him as he led her to his canopied bed. But her mind could not focus on the love he wanted from her, despite his kind words. At least she had preserved Adara’s innocence, for hers could never be regained.
Dabir watched Rahab from across the room later that evening, after the marriage between herself and King Keret. He covered a smile with his linen napkin as his gaze caught the prince’s satisfied look. Rahab had surely pleased him most thoroughly, if Dabir knew the prince at all. And who better than he understood the prince’s mind? With the prince’s endorsement, Rahab might just be the most lucrative investment he had yet made.
He leaned against the cushioned couch, sipping his wine. He had planned this well. Rahab would need more protection now. Two strong eunuchs should do, or one impressive in size. He swirled the liquid in his cup, contemplating his options. He startled at the prince’s approach and scrambled to bow at his feet.
“Do not trouble yourself, Dabir. You nearly spilled the wine over your robe.” The prince’s tone held candor and a hint of amusement.
Dabir straightened, heat creeping up his neck and filling his face in a rush. “I am sorry, my lord. I was lost in thought and did not hear or see your approach.”
Prince Nahid sat beside Dabir on the farthest end of the plush couch. “I want to purchase Rahab from you.”
Dabir straightened and clutched his cup, studying the elaborate spread of food before him, scrambling to collect his thoughts. What nonsense was this? He swallowed, forcing his anger to calm. This was Rahab’s doing.
He looked up, met the prince’s amused gaze. “I don’t understand, my lord. You assured me that Rahab was mine.”
“I changed my mind.” He studied one manicured finger. “I find her quite pleasing.” His smile seemed cocky and too self-assured to Dabir’s thinking.
“As I expected you would, my prince.” He smiled and nodded. He could not let this man, prince or not, do this to his plans.
Prince Nahid gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, his gaze aimed in Rahab’s direction. After a lengthy pause, the prince looked Dabir in the eye. “I will cancel her debt and return the money you paid for her. She will become my servant.”
Dabir’s middle tightened against the blow of the prince’s words. “I’m afraid your words confuse me, my lord. Rahab is worth far more as a consort than a free woman.”
The prince’s gaze narrowed but did not waver. “I do not intend to free her, Dabir. I intend to produce an heir by her.”
This was unexpected. Perhaps not Rahab’s doing at all. Dabir’s mind raced, calculating, unwilling to submit this loss. “You are aware, my lord, that the woman is barren?” It was a risk to say so, as he could not prove it, but he would make sure it was true before the prince took her. He swallowed, his pulse racing in time with his thoughts.
The prince looked at him strangely. “I was not aware.” He accepted wine from a servant and drank deeply before speaking again. “You are sure of this?”
Dabir nodded, not daring to release any sign of relief. “Gamal had her for five years, my lord, and they had no children. I have been to her bed many nights for at least three months, and still she carries no child.”
“And you are sure this is not of her own doing? Women have ways of preventing a child.”
Dabir nearly squirmed under the prince’s scrutiny. “I am certain Rahab wanted to give Gamal a son, as all wives are wont to do, my lord. But in five years with Gamal,” he emphasized again, “she did not conceive a child.” He stroked his bearded chin and lifted his gaze to the prince.
The prince looked across the room to where Rahab still sat at the bridal table. “She is exquisite,” he said, his tone wistful. “Together we could have created fine sons.”
Dabir offered a sympathetic sigh. “I am indeed sorry, my lord. If you would still wish to have her, please, I give her to you as a gift. She is of no use to me if she cannot please those closest to you. And they will not desire her if you find her wanting.” A flicker of regret accompanied his offer, but he knew he had to take the risk. He could not fight against the king’s only son without ending up at the end of a stake or sold as Gamal had been.
“No,” Prince Nahid said, though his gaze did not meet Dabir’s. “If she has not conceived in all that
time with two different men, then I cannot take the chance that she will be able to do as I’d hoped. Besides, she is right. I do have other sons.”
He had spoken to Rahab of this? Dabir gritted his teeth. She would use such knowledge against him, given the chance. If she had the prince’s ear . . . he would have to tread lightly and appease her, slave or not. He needed her to play her part well. Threats alone would not garner her favor. He must sweeten his coffers with honeyed words if he were to add gold to them as well.
“However,” the prince said, interrupting his thoughts, “I want her exclusively for a month.” He held Dabir’s gaze without flinching. Dabir would get nowhere if he attempted to argue against him.
“Your presence will make her all the more appealing, my lord.” Dabir smiled.
“I thought you’d see it that way.” The prince accepted another goblet of wine from a passing servant. “I assume you have her well protected.”
Dabir fingered a date pastry but did not eat it. “I have given it consideration.”
“Have you someone in mind?”
Dabir shook his head. “I thought to use one of the eunuchs I employ, but none are impressive enough to attack a would-be nemesis. There is the man her husband accused who started this whole mess.”
“The Nubian?”
“The same.” He’d forgotten the man’s name, but it would take little trouble to discover it.
Prince Nahid’s brows drew close in a frown. “I don’t like Nubians, Dabir.” He touched the place where his beard hid the scar that had nearly ended his life in Jericho’s last war, fought against Canaanite rivals and mercenary Nubians.
“I realize that, my lord, but from what Rahab has told me, this one fought on our side. He was Gamal’s friend.”
“Gamal had a strange way of treating his friends.” The prince stood then, and Dabir rose with him.
“Shall I pursue the Nubian then, my lord? He seemed strong enough, and at least his kind would have little interest in Rahab.”
“He could not afford her.” The prince laughed, a derisive sound. There was definitely no love in the man’s heart for the darker race.
Crimson Cord : Rahab's Story (9781441221155) Page 8
