by Summer Lee
Truly, Asher had been lucky to get on with Prince Jubal when he had. A stroke of fate that had no doubt saved his life. Jubal had even trusted Asher enough to send him to Zoan with her.
“Oh, Asher, I’m so happy for you!”
“Wait, there’s more,” he said and smiled enigmatically. He took her hand and led her out onto the balcony. Together, they stood at the railing, looking out over the beautifully landscaped grounds and the barren, distant foothills.
As they stood together, Asher told her a tale that even she was not expecting, and when he was finished, Kenana realized her mouth was hanging open.
*
“You…you are a prince?” she asked finally.
Asher glanced at her briefly and lifted one corner of his mouth in a half smile. He turned back and continued gazing forward, as a small wind appeared, running cold fingers over Kenana’s skin and ruffling Asher’s thick hair.
He said, “My father and mother were king and queen of Alalakh. But I was too young to remember. I only remember living in a big, beautiful house, surrounded by kind people.”
“And then it was all taken away,” she said.
He set his jaw grimly and nodded once. His nails raked over the stone railing. His eyes had a cold look as he explained what he had learned about his past. He told her what his cousin had told him. A raiding band of Nephilim had destroyed his family, killing his parents and brothers and sisters. He had been spared and later sold into slavery. The palace had been leveled and many of the nearby villages razed.
“Do you remember any of those things?” Kenana asked.
“The hearing of it prodded my memory, for certain,” said Asher nodding. “Life and prosperity has only recently returned to the land, although the inhabitants fear another attack of the Nephilim soon.”
“Oh, Asher, what can we do to help?”
“There’s even more,” he said grinning from ear to ear. “There is a local legend among my people there. It is said that a king will someday return and lead the people into a new era of peace.”
Kenana heard his words and realized what he was saying. “And you are the returning king,” she said. “Is that true?”
“Some seem to believe I am.”
“Oh, Asher, I believe it.”
Asher turned and looked at her for a long, long time. His hair lifted and fell in the cold wind; his robe whipped and snapped about his hips and legs. Then he turned back and stared stoically across the serene grounds.
“Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps.”
PART TWO
Chapter Seventeen
Tyro was growing fast. Too fast. He was sitting when other babies his age were just barely lifting their heads; crawling, when others were rolling over. He did everything faster and better than other infants did. Kenana knew it was his Nephilim blood. Angel blood.
Fallen angel blood, she often reminded herself.
And when Tyro started drinking from a cup, Kenana was forced to let her wet nurse go. She gave Gola a hefty sum to tide her over until her next job and the two women shared tears.
One day, Kenana realized how much the boy looked like Malluch. “Oh, my,” she said in startled tones. “You are the spitting image of your father.”
For a moment, she thought of Tyro’s father, Malluch. He was right; she had never loved him. He had only been the dream man in her fantasies. That was more than she could say of the late Prince Jubal. She had never liked him, not really. In her heart of hearts, she knew Asher was the love of her life.
She smiled at Tyro. “You are my son no matter how you got here.”
Tyro answered with a long, happy gurgling sound.
“Good boy,” Kenana said. “I love you, too. It does not matter who you look like or what you are. You will forever be my baby boy. My big baby boy.”
*
It was the middle of the night and Kenana had just put Tyro, now eight months old, to sleep. Earlier, he had been restless and irritable; she had spent many long hours holding him and soothing him. As Queen of Adah, she could have certainly ordered one of her many palace slaves to see to the child, but Kenana had refused to do so. Tyro was her baby. Her responsibility. She loved him deeply and she did not want him handled by anyone other than herself, if possible.
With the babe finally sleeping in his small bed next to hers, Kenana had just crawled back into bed when there was a knock at her bedchamber door.
Irritated, Kenana glanced at her baby and saw that he was still sleeping. She had just got up when the knocking came again, this time more urgently. Kenana gathered her light tunic around her and moved swiftly toward the door, her feet slapping lightly on the stone tiles.
Surely, something is wrong.
She opened the door, and there stood Asher, his face deathly grim: “The Nephilim are on the rise, my queen. The council is awaiting you.”
*
Kenana, now wide awake and dressed in formal royal robes, strode into the palace’s grand hall. Already the room was filling with her generals and elder statesmen, those with whom the one-time Prince Jubal had sought council while he reigned.
With Asher standing to her right, she sat before the gathering men, some of whom still looked sleepy. Kenana’s heart was beating hard, but she forced herself to remain cool. This was, after all, her first official appearance before the general council since she’d been elected.
When all were seated, Asher, dressed in a long golden robe, strode before the distinguished political and military leaders and cleared his throat. Kenana had learned long ago that these same leaders gave Asher, even when he had been a slave, an unusual amount of respect. She knew why: Asher projected strength and leadership, which is why her ex-husband Jubal had given the one-time slave so much responsibility. When Asher had their attention, he said, “My spies are reporting that a small contingent of Nephilim is approaching from the east, led by Prince Ham.”
Kenana’s mouth dropped, and so did many of the others in the room. Had she heard correctly? Prince Ham, Jubal’s eldest son, was leading an army of Nephilim? She knew the prince had hated her, but she did not realize the depth of his hate.
“How small is small?” asked one of the elder generals.
“Perhaps five hundred Nephilim,” said Asher. “Equivalent, perhaps, to five thousand men. The Nephilim, as you are all well aware, fight cruelly and to the death, with no mercy and no fear.”
“We can surely raise an army to combat them,” said an ornately dressed warlord, fresh from the desert sands.
“Yes,” said Asher. “But at what cost? We will lose thousands of good men, perhaps tens of thousands. There will be blood in the streets and many widowed wives and fatherless children.”
“It is the price we all pay,” said another man. “We cannot allow these giants to destroy our lands.” There was much murmuring of agreement.
“There is, perhaps, another way,” said Asher, and those in attendance grew instantly silent. “My spies tell me that the Nephilim are seeking our queen.”
“Why?” someone asked.
“Some of you may remember when Queen Kenana first came to Adah that an evil oversized giant pursued her to the point that Prince Jubal had me accompany her out of the country to protect her.”
“His name was Nod,” said Kenana.
Someone else said, “I remember. There was a great disturbance.”
This caused quite an uproar. Over the past few years, many of the elder statesmen here tonight had become quite taken with her, some even treating her more like a daughter than a queen. Kenana loved them all for their loyalty and support.
Asher continued when the men had settled down. “As the Nephilim and Prince Ham seek our queen, I propose that she and her son go into hiding.” Asher held up his hands to quiet the council before they could erupt again. “Moreover, I suggest we reveal this information through our spy networks. If the Nephilim receive word that Queen Kenana has departed, we can avoid war and save many lives.”
“And where w
ill she go?” asked another councilman.
“That will be a closely guarded secret,” said Asher.
“And with whom will she go?”
Asher turned and looked at Kenana, who, despite her best efforts to remain calm, suspected she was staring at him with open shock. “She will go with me,” he said to the crowd, although he spoke directly to her. “I will protect her and keep her safe.”
“And who will rule in the interim?”
“Prince Gad, Jubal’s youngest son. I have messengers seeking him now.”
“And when will Queen Kenana return?”
Asher continued staring at Kenana, and he said quietly, “I don’t know. Of course, Queen Kenana must agree to all of this.”
The two glanced at each other in a knowing look, and then she nodded. “Yes,” she said to Asher, “You are right.”
“Surely, your first obligation is to your citizens.”
“Yes.” Kenana turned to the council. “I agree. Anything to save innocent lives.”
Chapter Eighteen
They left at dawn, in a nondescript servant carriage, pulled by two mules. At Asher’s request, Kenana left behind more than half of what she had intended to bring. Saying goodbye to Sarah and Tall was hard, but Kenana was confident she would see them again soon.
Now, she and Tyro sat within the carriage, while Asher rode high on the elevated platform. The morning was cool and misty, and the long night finally caught up to Kenana. Lulled by the bouncing carriage, she fell asleep on the cushioned pad and dreamed a dreamless sleep.
*
When they reached town, Asher pulled into a large barn where they switched carriages. Asher himself threw on different clothing and donned a wig of gray hair. They continued through town and were soon traveling along a deeply rutted country road.
Tyro, perhaps comforted by the jolting of the carriage and the darkly enclosed space, was unusually calm and quiet, for which Kenana was eternally thankful.
*
The city of Hitte would be a three-day journey by carriage. As this was early spring, the desert heat was bearable. Indeed, at times, the weather was quite pleasurable.
Tyro continued to prove himself very well behaved, and mother and son bonded immensely within the carriage. Although Kenana was a new mother, she was certain that Tyro was far out-gaining other children his age. Already he was so very strong.
As they traveled, Asher would occasionally sing an old folk song. His voice, soft and pleasant, carried down from the riding platform above and seemed to soothe little Tyro. The donkeys were in no great hurry, and so the three of them made their way slowly through the peaceful countryside.
On the third night, while sitting next to a small fire at the foot of a great rocky mountain, eating smoked meats and bread, Kenana said, “Thank you, Asher, for doing this.”
Asher, who had been playing a clapping game with Tyro, looked up at her, his brown eyes catching some of the firelight. He gave her a small, exaggerated bow. “It is an honor, my queen, to keep you and your son safe.”
Kenana laughed. “So where are we going, you joker?” she said, although she already suspected she knew the answer.
“My homestead,” he said. “We will stay with my cousin.”
“We are coming unannounced,” said Kenana.
“True, but she will understand, and she will love you. I have, after all, told her much about you.”
“Oh really?” she said, delighted. “And what did you say?”
He looked away. Kenana was sure his cheeks had reddened. “I told her I serve the most beautiful woman in the world.”
Kenana opened her mouth to speak, but words failed her. Tyro continued giggling and using Asher as his own personal play toy. Asher did not seem to mind, and distracted himself by playing with the little boy. The two were amazing together. Asher would make a great father.
“My year of mourning is nearly over,” said Kenana, referring to the local custom of mourning the loss of a spouse.
“Yes,” said Asher, smiling. “And so it is.”
And the two left it at that. When her year of mourning was complete, Kenana, by law, could remarry and she planned to.
She looked at Asher again and their eyes met. He smiled and a thrill coursed through her soul.
Kenana knew exactly who she would marry.
Chapter Nineteen
The next day, as Kenana dozed in and out of sleep and as the carriage bounced over a rock-strewn path, she heard a happy shout from Asher outside. “Ho! Look what I see!”
She stuck her head out the side window and saw what he saw: A sprawling town, with a great river running through it. Several tall ships, anchored at various piers, rose and fell with the currents.
Asher immediately stopped the carriage and jumped off the upper bench. She heard him rummaging through some of their equipment, and soon he appeared at the carriage window. He looked different and she giggled. He was wearing the gray wig again. He grinned and held out his hand. “For you, my queen.”
She took it. Another wig, this one a long mane of red hair.
“Is this really necessary, Asher?”
“There’s an army of Nephilim currently hunting you down. By now, word has surely reached them that the Queen of Adah has fled. And the Queen of Adah, the last I checked, was a beautiful, brown-haired woman.”
“You think I’m beautiful?”
But Asher continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “So we need to turn the queen of Adah into a beautiful redhead before we get into town.” He winked at her and helped her with the wig.
And as he fastened it into place, Kenana caught herself smiling. He had called her beautiful.
Twice.
*
They arrived at the dock before noon.
Asher paid their fare and arranged to have their belongings carried on aboard. Before the ship set sail, Kenana watched as Asher found a poor farmer and gave the stunned man the two mules and the carriage.
As they boarded the ship, Asher reminded Kenana to pretend to be his wife, so that the sailors would leave her alone.
Kenana had no problem pretending to be his wife.
*
Unlike her first boat trip into Egypt, which was rife with bad weather, pirates and stalking Nephilim, this one was tranquil and almost pleasant. The broad-backed oarsmen, whose skin glistened with sweat and muscle, barely paid her any mind. No doubt, Asher’s imposing figure had something to do with that.
The days were hot and the nights were cold along the Euphrates, and four days after departing Hitte, the three disembarked in the port city of Khalab. With a secret stash of gold, Asher purchased a simple wagon and two old donkeys. After the wagon was packed, he spent time chatting with some of the local folk.
When finished, he grabbed the reins; the three of them were off again, lumbering through the bustling river town, passing a thriving marketplace, and a street performer juggling what appeared to be sticks of fire. Kenana clapped as they passed.
On the open road, with the warm sun shining low in the sky, well away from listening ears, Asher said, “The Nephilim retreated.”
“You mean—”
“Yes,” he said, smiling. “War was averted.”
Kenana had only lived in Adah for barely over a year, but she had grown to love the land, and the people, and the palace and all its workers. She said a silent prayer of thank you to El.
They continued in silence. The sun continued to drop. Tyro awakened and crawled out from Kenana’s arms and sat next to Asher. She almost cried when she saw Asher take her son’s hand and hold it gently, like a father would. Asher loved the boy.
A boy who was not his own. A boy who was not even fully human.
They came upon another town, this one much smaller. Asher stopped the wagon near an outdoor market and asked if she was hungry. In response, her stomach growled menacingly.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, winking. “Stay here. I’ll be back shortly.”
Cha
pter Twenty
When Asher returned, his arms filled to overflowing with burlap sacks of food, Kenana was surprised to see a small group of people following him. Even more curious was the reaction of those around him: Women were weeping, children were laughing, and old men were offering prayers of thanks and gratitude.
When Asher finally arrived at the wagon, the small group had turned into a large crowd.
“Asher, what’s going on?” she asked, instinctively gathering up her son.
“I guess they like me,” he said, winking. He snapped the reins and they were off, and the crowd followed behind.
*
The ride through the countryside was a curious one. The villagers all followed them. Most were on foot, although some children and older folk were on donkeys and horses.
Kenana was at a loss for words. Walking next to her was a young mother, holding an infant in her arms. The infant could not have been more than a few weeks old. Kenana had Asher stop the wagon, and then asked the woman to join them. At first, the woman refused, looking alarmed, but Asher said simply, “Please join us, dear one.”
The woman acquiesced, smiling. Kenana helped her up, and Tyro immediately reached out and touched her baby’s head, giggling.
The young mother smiled and told Tyro how cute he was. Tyro then reached over and grabbed her hair still giggling. “No, no” said Kenana firmly.
They continued on, wending their way through a small grove of trees, and then along a narrow, but mighty river. More people came down from the hills, appearing from thatched huts and stone homes. All were swept up into the surreal progression.
Kenana, having been royalty for only a short time, was still not used to such attention. Besides, for the first time in a while, she herself was not the focus of the attention.
Indeed, the focus was on her one-time slave, her Goel and protector.
The returning king.
*
A smooth hill, dotted with a smattering of trees, rose before them. At the base of the hill was a small cottage. The river wended its way around the hill, forking naturally to form a sort of mote.
