Sunrise on the Mediterranean

by Suzanne Frank

  Sweat was dripping down my spine. I didn’t dare look at Cheftu or out to sea. I stared at Yoav fixedly. Give us a break, I thought. Please!

  He was silent for a long time. It was torture. Should I have said something else? Should I not have been so snide? Should I have begged for mercy? I was growing to know his features as well as my own, I’d been looking at him so long. If he’d had fewer scars, he would have been kind of handsome. As it was, he just looked rakish, a little piratical. “It is a matter of face,” he said. “The Pelesti have attacked us again and again.”

  “You said yourself, there are no men left.”

  “If all the women are like you, I wonder if men are necessary for a war,” he muttered.

  I chose to be complimented.

  “What do you want?” he said. “What do you hope to get from me, from my tribesmen?”

  “Our lives,” I said simply. “Our cities and our lives. Already you have taken our husbands, brothers, and fathers. Our seren and his mother were also slain by you. Allow us to live here, that is all.”

  His gaze shifted off me to the walled city behind me. The white buildings were stacked like blocks, the sunlight casting blue shadows from the windows and doors. Flowers had just started to bloom, cascading from window boxes, trees, and pots. “It is a beautiful place,” he said. “To the south you have a safe harbor.”

  “Ken. But it is useless to a people who terrace their hills and know nothing of ships.”

  “I want the secret of smelting. Teach us how to make iron.”

  Never say no. My father’s words echoed through my head. No is the end of any negotiation. Lie if you must, twist the truth, but never say no. I licked my dry lips. “What would stop you from learning our secrets, then killing us anyway?”

  He twisted one of the curls before his ears. “Nothing.” His focus was on me again, laser beam eyes in green. “You must trust us.”

  “You must swear by your god,” I said. “That is an abomination to use the name of our god in swearing!”

  I shrugged. “It is the only thing you hold dear. It is the only proof that you will keep your bargain.”

  “That’s not all I want,” he said.

  I was afraid of that. “What else?”

  “Your princeling must die.”

  Not Wadia, he was a boy! I had to bite back my emphatic no. “You have killed all his brothers, his father and mother, why not let the boy be? He is a child.”

  “He can piss against the wall; he is a man. He will grow to lead the Pelesti against us again.” His eyes spoke honestly. “My lord king Dadua has more to do than battle the Pelesti, as one swats at mosquitoes, every spring.”

  “If Wadia swears not to attack?” I said. I heard the edge of desperation in my voice and cursed it.

  “What is to keep him from breaking his word? What assurance have I?” Yoav asked.

  “Because, though he is young, he is a man of honor.” Yoav leaned back, stretching his legs out, close to mine. Was that on purpose or accident? “I will take that wine now,” he said. Cheftu was pouring it before he had finished his request. Yoav took it from Cheftu and handed it to me. “Drink first, as a courtesy.”

  Knowing it wasn’t poisoned, I took a sip. It was tart, refreshing, and completely safe. I handed it to him. “Unlike you, we observe the laws of hospitality.”

  He downed the cup, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Unlike you, we offer it only to those who are kin and can be trusted.”

  This man was getting to me. Calm down, Chloe. Cheftu handed me a cup, and I drank it as quickly as Yoav, though more neatly. I set down my cup, my challenge clear. “What are your terms, Yoav?”

  “The secrets of smelting. Your continued service as purveyors and merchants. Decampment of the valleys. We will man those watchtowers instead. Only the towns of Ashqelon, Ashdod, and Yaffo will remain whole.”

  They would take the countryside? “What of Lakshish? Qisilee?”

  “My tribesmen will move in with the Pelesti in those cities. We will have our own temples, worship our god, and learn from your people the skills of smelting, pottery, dyeing … these frivolous details that are significant to a nation of any size.”

  A peaceful invasion. “What of Wadia?”

  His gaze narrowed on me, then moved to the water behind me, the waves washing onto the shore. “I’ll take you instead.”

  Adrenaline flooded me, leaving me suddenly cold, almost shivering. “Me?”

  “You are the leader of Ashqelon. If you are removed, then they will have no one to follow. Moreover, if you are our hostage, then young Wadia will be held in check with his actions.”

  “That will not matter if you kill me,” I said. My voice still sounded okay, which was a miracle. I was reeling.

  He smiled. “I do not want you dead, I want your arrogant hands serving me.”

  Somewhere a pitcher dropped, shattered.

  “What?”

  “You, haDerkato, will be the ultimate trophy,” he said with a wolfish smile. “A goddess serving as a slave in my household.”

  “My husband … ,” I whispered, stunned.

  He shrugged. “You are of an uncircumcised race. I will be no Samson to be led astray by Pelesti charms.” His look was derisive. “Your husband can be as easily enslaved. You can mate and give me more slaves, I care not.” He turned his cup over, a signal of completion. “But you will serve me.”

  It was me or Wadia? How did I get in this mess? This wasn’t my problem! Shit, shit, shit. “What of the city, the people?” The few who were still alive.

  “For the sake of my face, my pride, I must kill the remaining men.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, then shut it. “Go on.”

  “I will take half the population into slavery, in addition to taking all your slaves.”

  Half the remaining women, I thought, and Cheftu among others. “Go on.”

  “We will burn half your fields, but leave the city untouched.”

  I swallowed. “Go on.”

  “Lakshish will be untouched, but I will move my men into the fields between here and there.”

  I was right! He was going to take over the countryside, hole up the Pelesti in their cities like ghettos. Comfortable, nice ghettos, but the same idea.

  “Lakshish will offer us homes in time for harvest. It will be the same with Qisilee. Ashdod, well, I think the lesson of Ashqelon—”

  “You mean the destruction of Ashqelon.”

  He glanced at me. “The conquering of Ashqelon will be enough to teach your other cities that we are now masters of the land.” He rubbed his thighs. “My men are tired, they are hungry for their wives and the cool of the hills. This should be enough for honor on both sides.”

  Could I kill him right now? Could I both do it and get away with it? “Swear you will not kill or rape the women,” I demanded, my voice low. I knew the men, the few old and young men still alive, were a lost cause.

  For the first time, he got offended. “We are holy men, isha. We do not rape. The seed of the tribes is not to be scattered about like that of idolaters! War in the land is a commission of el haShaday, not for the pollution of the body.” He looked as though he might spit.

  My breath was shallow. Should I agree to these terms? Or was there a better future for my, these, people? For the first time, I looked over Yoav’s shoulder to Cheftu. His eyes were dark, his face immobile. Death was the alternative, Chloe. It doesn’t look that bad in comparison.

  Only in comparison—otherwise it was horrible!

  Yoav rose. “Think on this, haDerkato. I will await your response.” He glanced at the sky. “You have until dusk.”

  “How shall I contact you?”

  “I will know your choice by your actions. If I see half of the remaining population file out of the gates, you in the lead, then I will know. If I don’t, then I will raze Ashqelon to the ground. As you said, both Yaffo and Qisilee are ports, too. We don’t need your city standing.”

&
nbsp; He turned around and walked off.

  The twins and Klingon hurried to Yoav’s side, with N’tan trailing behind. Once again the five walked down the beach.

  I collapsed back on my chair, trembling all over. What had I done? What could I do? Why was this my job? Why had Takala cursed me like this? Why couldn’t I just walk away?

  Tamera appeared, with a cold yogurt-and-cucumber drink in her hand. It eased my stomach as I pondered my options. “How many boats are in the harbor? Enough to sail us all to Qisilee?”

  “Lo, Sea-Mistress. They are still in dry dock for winter repairs.” She adjusted her own fish cloak. “There is no sailing in this season.”

  So much for escaping. I slammed the rest of my beverage.

  “What transpired?” she asked. “The serenim of the remaining cities in ha Hamishah beg to know.”

  Would they really do as I suggested? I was a goddess to them, but surely they didn’t believe I was divine? The idea seemed preposterous. Then again, the whole tightrope incident was pretty unbelievable, and they had chosen me through that. I took a deep breath and destroyed her world with my words.

  “The days of, uh, our supremacy are over,” I said. “By dusk, half of us must be ready to become slaves. Half of the fields will burn. Wadia can return from Ashdod and rule, but he will be under the eye of the highlanders, for they are moving to the fields between here and Lakshish.”

  She sat down, cross-legged. “What of you?”

  My hands were shaking. “I go to become a slave.” Tamera’s eyes filled with tears, so I dismissed her. When Tamera left, Cheftu’s hands touched my shoulders. “We will slave together,” he said.

  “I can’t ask that of you,” I said. “You should stay here, teach Wadia how to rule.”

  “Lo. This time is not mine. This boy Wadia loves you, not your slave. My vow was to be with you. Also, Israelite slavery only lasts seven years.”

  “That’s supposed to encourage me?” I burst out. “We have less than a year here,” he said. “The portal will open, then we will be freed.”

  “I don’t know where a portal is. I came through water.” His hands tensed on my shoulders, then relaxed. “I will be with you. I thank God for that.”

  “The family that slaves together stays together?”

  Only silence met my joke. I didn’t blame him; it wasn’t funny.

  At dusk we opened the gates of the city. The sound of weeping and wailing was a constant whip to my conscience. Was there something else I could have done? Why had this been my job? God forgive me, but I didn’t know what I was doing!

  Like condemned ducks they followed me, a ragtag collection of mostly older women and a few teenage girls. The city had held tightly to the few boys who were left, who would be marriageable in a matter of months, and to the women whose wombs were fertile.

  Ashqelon must keep her means of repopulating.

  Cheftu walked beside me, proud and beautiful despite the chains in his ears. The same chains that I would have soon. Of all of this, that was the scariest thought—for it seemed the most real. I’d seen the scars on his ears. It was a beacon that didn’t fade away. I straightened my shoulders and walked on.

  We had thrown the Urim and Thummim, but the answer had been vague, frustrating. “Service is to serve.” What the hell did that mean? When that was the same answer, time and again, we gave up. Cheftu excused himself to rehide the stones—and I finally understood where his secret hiding place was, that could pass through being naked. His cleverness was disgusting at times.

  Outside the city a line of highlanders stretched from horizon to horizon. They were standing at attention like the Rockettes, immobile, the wind tugging their skirts, the setting sun blinding on their shields and dome-shaped helmets.

  Impressive.

  Yoav stood at the front, resplendent in red and green. I smelled my fear over the cinnamon and mint I’d bathed in before leaving the city. If I represented Ashqelon, Tamera said as she dressed me up, the highlanders would recall forever the beauty and majesty of the city.

  My gown was finely woven, dyed, and embroidered. Gold hung from my neck, my shoulders, and my ears. Tamera had tied a sash of woven gold around my head, the colors of gold, blue, and green picked up in the striped sash around my waist. Attached to the back of my dress was an elaborate fish cloak, this one covered with fabric “scales” and “fins.” My face, my shoulders and clavicle, all were adorned with gold dust in patterns of magic protection.

  Was this how Cleopatra felt, getting decked out before she did herself in?

  Shoulders back, my kohled gaze on Yoav, I walked to within four feet of him.

  “You seek the subjugation of the Ashqeloni,” I said. “By your very words, you have half her fields, half her people, and their goddess, haDerkato. Swear, Yoav ben Zerui’a, in holy b’rith, that you will treat these captives with justice and honor, that the maids will remain pure, that the mothers will not be beaten. Swear that Ashdod will remain untouched, that seren Wadia will live, that Qisilee, Yaffo, and Lakshish will not suffer the sword or the torch. Swear to these things, and the ownership of these Pelesti is yours.”

  “I will not swear by the name of my god,” he said. “Then swear by his footstool, your totem.”

  He glared at me, ground his teeth for a moment, then shouted, “By the Seat of Mercy, I swear to these statements! By the footstool of el haShaday, these professions are true!”

  Cheftu’s hand clenched in my sash. Yoav looked at me, smug. “Subjugate yourself, goddess.”

  As gracefully as I could, I got to my knees. One highlander moved to stand behind me, another two stood at my sides. Yoav accepted a mallet and an awl from N’tan. I began to tremble violently; I prayed Cheftu would watch quietly.

  We had discussed this. It wouldn’t be much worse than getting my ears pierced, I hoped.

  One man pulled my hair back, then another removed my earrings, handing them to me. The two men at my sides pressed my shoulders down, holding me still, firm against the soil.

  Yoav, strangely enough, didn’t look as though he were enjoying this. I blinked furiously against tears. I was grateful I’d emptied my bladder. He handed me a leaf. “Artemisia,” he said. I accepted it, chewing furiously. I felt a block of wood press against the curve of cartilage in my ear above my lobe.

  The prick of the awl. “Breathe from your belly,” he said, then pounded the awl through my ear.

  The pain was sudden and consuming. While I was slumped, dizzy and sick from the first piercing, he did my other ear. The block holder and Yoav stepped away, shouting up to the Pelesti. “As I have enslaved your goddess, so are the people of the sea enslaved. You will serve the tribes, even as you are allowed life!”

  The two men helped me up, turning me toward the city. I felt the tug on raw skin as the chain was linked through. It pulled; I didn’t have words for how it felt. I was light-headed and feared I was going to be sick. As I looked up, feeling the chain in my hair, the weight of it tugging at my tender ears, the people before me, the remaining Pelesti, knelt. I couldn’t focus on any one face; I couldn’t see that far.

  From the walls of the city I heard, “Bless haDerkato, for she has given herself for Ashqelon.” The highlanders set off toward the city, ready to kill the remaining, the very few remaining, men. The cries of pride turned into shrieks of fear. The chain moving through my ear suddenly seemed nothing. Perhaps it had saved a few lives?

  Cheftu picked me up gently, easing the pull of the metal. He slipped something into my mouth, another leaf. “Chew and sleep,” he said. “It will ease you.”

  My last thoughts were that the fear-struck screams had turned into wails of agonizing loss. Wails that followed me into blackness.

  “THAT MEANS I WILL leave your side?” RaEm asked, focusing on Akhenaten through the blackness of the night.

  His hand found her thigh, smoothing over her skin, soothing her ka. “It is a short visit, just to establish that the reign of the Aten will continue. Besides, you
need a bridal voyage.”

  RaEm sighed, adjusting the headrest beneath her head, letting the warm breeze cool her body. “Your daughter is a joy, but a whole month of her may drive me mad.”

  He chuckled, kissing where his hands had been. “She loves you desperately, Smenkhare; she would do anything to please you.”

  This RaEm knew. Ever since she had wedded the girl, she had had almost no peace. Meryaten was desperately in love with her, always seeking to touch her, to kiss her, to be with her. RaEm sat up, bracing her head on her elbow. “I need to get her with child.”

  “Aii, well, that will take more magic than any priest I know has,” Akhenaten said. “Besides, she will not be plowed with any save a royal tool.” His voice brooked no disagreement.

  But she will drive me insane until she is pregnant, RaEm thought. Between Tiye, who was suspicious but going blind, and Meryaten, who was blind but sweet, RaEm was paying too dearly for too little power. “Your mother—”

  “Yours too—”

  “Aye, well, she wishes to build a temple in Waset.” Akhenaten rose from the couch. “I will not speak of this,” he said firmly. “Though I owe her respect for bearing me, still she has the heart of a … a nonbeliever.”

  “The temple matters nothing to me,” RaEm said, following him to stand on the balcony, beneath the moon. “Meryaten I will keep happy. You, My Majesty, you are all I want.” She pressed her lips together to keep from begging more. “Please don’t send me away, away from your fire.” She kissed his shoulder. “I will be so cold.”

  Akhenaten was on her, in her, immediately. “You want heat, you want to burn?”

  “Aye, My … Majesty,” she gasped out. “You want my fire to flow through you?”

  “Aye! Aye!”

  He was violent, tearing her open to get deeper inside. “You will melt for no one but me. However you please my daughter, only I will feel your heat, Smenkhare. Never again will another person hear you gasp, you moan. Those belong to me.” He slapped her hard, his hand around her throat. “I am your deity. You will have no other. I am the Aten.”