Glorious Companions

by Summer Lee

  Here, at the fork in the river, and just before a wooden bridge, Asher stopped the small wagon. Those following him stopped as well, creating a chain effect, as those beyond them eventually stopped, too. Kenana turned in her seat and scanned the area around them, her mouth hanging open. There were people as far as the eye could see.

  Asher turned and looked at her. “Quite a reception, eh?”

  “I’m speechless.”

  “I’m still in shock.”

  Kenana looked into the teeming faces, all smiling or laughing or crying. Many were singing and dancing. It was a festive, hallowed atmosphere.

  “Is this how it was during your months away from me?”

  “No, word has spread considerably since then.”

  The young woman said she had reached her destination and thanked Kenana for giving her a lift. “You are most kind, your highness,” she said as Asher helped the young lady down to the ground.

  An old man stepped out of the crowd and approached the carriage. Kenana thought he just might have been the oldest human being she had ever seen. He walked with a gnarled cane, held in an equally gnarled fist. His back bowed with age, he seemed to be having trouble holding his head up. Asher immediately reached out and steadied the man.

  “Hail King Asher!” said the old man in a surprisingly strong voice. The crowd cheered and repeated the words over and over.

  Grinning a toothless smile, the old man lifted his drooping head and spied Kenana. “And who is this fair maiden?”

  Asher said, “You are in the presence of Queen Kenana of Adah.”

  Kenana felt her face flush. The old man tried to bow, but was already so crippled that Kenana feared he might topple over. Thank El for his cane!

  “My queen,” he said. “’Tis truly an honor. You grace us with your presence.”

  “Please,” she said. “Stand. All of you, stand.”

  Indeed, those near the wagon who had overheard Asher’s introduction either bowed or dropped to a knee.

  Asher continued, “Queen Kenana, may I introduce you to Vartan, one of our esteemed village elders.”

  “The eldest of the elders,” said the man, laughing infectiously.

  “It’s equally an honor,” said Kenana, grinning.

  “May I approach, my queen?” asked Vartan.

  “Of course,” she said.

  And with Asher’s aide, the man continued forward until he was standing next to the wagon. He lifted his head and spied the babe in her arms.

  “A future king, I see,” he said. “And a big one, too.”

  Kenana shifted uneasily. She did not like attention being drawn to Tyro’s great size.

  “Yes,” she said. “He is a strong boy.”

  Vartan smiled again and then looked from Asher to Kenana. Asher answered the man’s unspoken question. “I am the queen’s protector. That and only that.”

  “You are much more than the queen’s protector,” said Vartan, bowing precariously again. “Oh, you are much more than that.”

  “We shall see,” said Asher. “There is still much to be done.”

  “Indeed, there is a reason why I am here, my king. I am here to offer you the services of everyone here before you—all our handymen and skilled workers, our cooks and blacksmiths—everyone!”

  “But why?” Asher asked.

  “Why, to rebuild your palace, my lord! A palace fit for our returning king.”

  The crowd cheered and clapped. Some danced and some wept. Kenana watched them all from her perch high upon the wagon. She felt a surprising sense of kinship with the people. It was a peaceful, satisfying feeling.

  And for the first time in a long, long time, Kenana felt as if she was home. Here, with these people, she was home.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  With the crowd still behind them, with kids playing and mother’s laughing, with the skilled workers and architects and planners even now working out the designs to the new palace, Asher steered the wagon to the lone cottage sitting among a small copse of trees.

  A striking woman appeared at the door, looking stunned at the scene before her. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  Asher leaped from the wagon and dashed to the woman, throwing his arms around her, hugging her as if she was his mother. He released her and looked back at Kenana.

  “Cousin Ava,” he said, motioning with a sweep of his arm. “Meet Queen Kenana of Adah.”

  Ava bowed politely and smiled warmly. Kenana fought the burning in her cheeks. Would she ever get used to people bowing to her? Didn’t they realize she was only a year or so removed from being a farmer’s daughter?

  Kenana stepped down from the wagon and, still holding Tyro, hugged Ava tightly with one arm. Kenana felt an immediate kinship with the woman, a deep affection as if they had known each other all their lives.

  “You honor me, my queen,” said Ava.

  “No,” said Kenana. “You honor us by allowing us to stay with you.”

  Ava said to Asher, “She is even more beautiful than you say, my cousin. It is kind of you to bring her to visit me.”

  Kenana grinned and looked over at Asher, who was now pretending to show great interest in a small rock, kicking it with the toe of his boot.

  “Yes,” said Ava, grinning at her cousin’s reaction. She looked back at Kenana. “I couldn’t get him to stop talking about you.”

  Both women giggled.

  “That will be enough, ladies,” said Asher, and they both giggled some more. He stepped over to Kenana and took Tyro from her arms, relieving her of the child’s great weight. Turning to Ava, he said, “The queen needs a place to hide out for a while.”

  “You have brought her to the right place. Come, Queen Kenana, I will show you your new home. Such as it is.”

  “Oh, Ava, please call me Keni. That is what my sisters call me.”

  “Keni, I love the sound of it.”

  Ava showed them inside, and Asher brought Tyro over to a cradle in the corner of the main room. Apparently, upon arriving in the small village, Asher had sent forward a messenger to alert his cousin of their arrival.

  Ava next served warm bread and tea for lunch, and they sat around a central stone hearth. A cool breeze made its way through the open windows, fluttering the thick cloth that she used to cover the openings. Kenana sipped her tea and nibbled her bread, happy to be finished with traveling.

  Through the open window, they could hear shouts and whistles from the villagers at the base of the hill. Ava got up, pulled aside the flap and looked down upon her countrymen.

  “There are hundreds of them,” she said. “Perhaps thousands.”

  “Aye,” said Asher. He was busy dipping his bread into his tea, eating it hungrily, licking his fingers. Kenana loved to watch the man eat. He could be so elegant and charming—even regal—but get him around food and he turned into an animal. She loved so much about him.

  “They have been waiting anxiously for their king to return,” said Ava. “You give them hope, Asher.”

  The returning king slurped his tea and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. He belched and said, “I never asked for all of this. I returned only to rest my haunted memories. I knew nothing of prophecies or royalty.”

  Ava stepped over to him and put an arm around his broad shoulders. “I know why you returned the first time, Asher,” she said. “So, tell me, why did you return a second time?”

  Her question, it seemed, hung in the air for a long, long time.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Ava’s small cottage consisted of the main sitting room, with its central hearth and kitchen area, and an attached bedchamber. Asher slept in the bedchamber, leaving the two women to sleep together on mats in the central room.

  Now, with Ava sleeping heavily next to her and Tyro content in his cradle, Kenana crept silently into the adjoining bedchamber, and lay next to Asher.

  He grunted, startled, but then instinctively put his arm around her shoulders and drew her into him. She went wi
llingly, nuzzling her face into his warm neck. She loved the way he smelled, even after a hard day’s drive through the desert.

  Must be love, she thought.

  “Asher?” she said softly, keeping her voice low.

  “It is late, my queen,” he said, and tightened his hold around her shoulders, pulling her even closer to him, sending a thrill through her body.

  “Asher, when will you stop calling me your queen?”

  “When you stop being my queen?”

  “Perhaps I should now start calling you my king,” she said quietly into his ear.

  Asher shook his head and chuckled lightly. “I am your Goel,” he said. “Anything else will take some getting used to.”

  “That’s why I came in here,” said Kenana. “I want to talk to you about this prophecy of yours.”

  “That’s the only reason you came in here?” He sounded disappointed.

  She slapped him lightly on his bare chest. “Honor your queen, Goel,” she said teasingly.

  “Of course, your highness,” he said mockingly. “What’s on your mind?”

  Ava’s light snoring reached them through the curtained door. Outside, in the far distance at the base of the hill, she could hear the festivities continuing well into the night.

  “Asher, do you believe the prediction about you is true?” she asked.

  He rolled over onto his side, and as he did so, some of the moonlight shining in through the open bedchamber window caught his flat chest and shoulders. Kenana took in some air. He slipped his arm out from under her and put both hands behind his head, his fine profile silhouetted against the moonlight in the open window.

  “I don’t know what to believe,” he said. “I am, as you might recall, a simple household slave.”

  “You were a trusted servant,” Kenana corrected. “Jubal entrusted the entire palace to you.”

  “I was a faithful slave,” said Asher.

  “Every slave in Prince Jubal’s house admired you. The young looked up to you. You were their hero.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Jubal told me so.”

  “Make no mistake. He owned my life and could have had me killed with a snap of his fingers.” Kenana heard the resentment in his voice, and his breathing quickened. “But he was good to me, and I worked hard for my prince.”

  “He loved you like a son,” said Kenana.

  “And now, I love his widowed wife.”

  “Don’t forget that she loves you, too.”

  “I’ve done my best to treat you like a lady. And I will always insist that other men do the same,” Asher said.

  “You have always acted honorably, Asher. Please do not be hard on yourself.”

  He nodded once, accepting her words, and then asked, “Has Malluch been to see you since you returned to Mesopotamia?”

  “Only once. He came to see Tyro.”

  “How did it make you feel?”

  “I had mixed feelings. I once thought I loved him, but I did not have a clue what true love was like. It was childish infatuation. I’ll never see him again. He has been bound and taken to the pit. Believe me, I have never loved him.”

  They were quiet for quite some time. Little Tyro cooed like a pigeon from the other room. Kenana laughed and Asher did, too. Asher said, “I believe you.”

  “Back to the prophecy,” she said, changing the subject. “You have indeed fulfilled some of it, correct? You are, after all, the returning king.”

  Asher laughed. “And now all I have to do is rid the land of the marauding giants.”

  “Asher, when did you realize you were a Goel?”

  He turned his head to the side and looked at her. “I just knew. It is a calling some have.”

  “How many Goels are there?”

  “There are many,” he said. “Spread across the land.”

  “Enough to battle the Nephilim?” she asked.

  Asher seemed taken aback by the question, frowning thoughtfully, his eyebrows drawn together. Then he grinned and pulled her into him, kissing her hard full on the lips, only pulling away after a long, sweet moment.

  “You are brilliant, my queen,” he said. “Brilliant.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The following morning, while Asher was out milking the single cow, Kenana and Ava sat together over tea and smoked meats, discussing their lives.

  Kenana learned that Ava’s cottage, which sat about halfway up the hill, had been the only home spared during the giants’ attack. Loyal servants had hidden her in the caves that dotted the nearby hills, sparing her from certain death or a life of slavery.

  Ava went on to be raised by these very same servants, and although the local villagers considered Ava royalty, she never played the role and demanded to be treated as an equal. Ava had thought she was the last of her family—that was, until Asher appeared at her doorstep months ago.

  “I remembered Asher, of course. He was the young prince. He and I had played together often, as our mothers were sisters. I thought he was killed, too. When the palace was burned to the ground, it was hard to tell who was alive and who had been dragged away into slavery. So many people died. There was so much destruction. Even now, we are still reeling from the attack. The land was thrown into chaos, with various cruel warlords laying claim. But never did they last, for there was always another cruel warlord waiting in the wings.”

  As they spoke, Tyro was playing with a small kitten that had appeared in the kitchen window. Tyro giggled and picked it up, holding it close to his body. Kenana was delighted to see that the boy, despite his strength, was surprisingly gentle with the little creature. The kitten playfully pawed at the boy’s button nose.

  Ava continued, “The last warlord was especially cruel. His acts were atrocious, and the people rose up against him. You might still catch his body hanging from a tree a few days’ journey from here.”

  Kenana shuddered, and could not imagine the hardships these good people had endured.

  “The land has been in relative peace for the past few years,” said Ava. “But there have been rumors of an impending Nephilim attack. Their armies have been laying siege to various outposts, leaving a customary swath of destruction. We have all been nervous and jumpy, just waiting for the day when a rider arrives, announcing the approach of a massive army of giants.” Ava paused and watched Tyro. “We can defeat local warlords, but we cannot defeat an army of Nephilim. We need help.”

  “Do you believe Asher is the returning king of prophesy?” Kenana asked.

  Ava sipped slowly from her tea. “I have heard rumors that he is a Goel, one given special powers from El, one called upon to protect those in need. That Asher is, in fact, the greatest Goel of them all.”

  Kenana shook her head in amazement. Asher, it seemed, never ceased to amaze her. “I could believe that.”

  Ava continued, “If he is such a man, then I have no doubt he can fulfill the prophecies.”

  Kenana agreed, but was not entirely sure she was comfortable with the idea of her man battling the evil giants. So, she turned her attention to the cup of hot tea in her hand. As she sipped her tea, she glanced around the cozy home. “I love what you’ve done with your home.”

  Ava had turned the simple slave quarters into a loving home, filled with a woman’s touch, complete with a variety of flowers and elaborate paintings and clean furnishings. Ava nodded and said, “Thank you.”

  A woman’s touch indeed, with not a hint of a man anywhere. Kenana asked about this. “Have you ever been married?”

  “I have never married,” admitted Ava. “I have felt guilt for being the only surviving member of my family. How can I have peace and happiness when so much of my family has suffered?”

  “But you are not alone,” said Kenana. “Asher has returned.”

  “Indeed,” said Ava. “But now, I fear, I am an old maid.”

  Kenana laughed. “Nonsense! You look as young as me! With all the men coming around here to help Asher, one just might catch your ey
e. You need to keep your face made up and your hair styled, just in case.”

  Now, it was Ava’s turn to laugh. She reached out and touched Kenana’s knee. “You flatter me, my queen, but I am afraid that my best years have passed me by.”

  “You really do not know how pretty you are, do you?”

  “I am sure I was attractive at one time.”

  Kenana was not so sure. At a gut level, she expected things to change. Although she herself never claimed to be a prophet like her grandfather Enoch, she could often trust her own intuition.

  And her intuition told her that Ava would marry soon.

  Very soon.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  During their eight months with Ava, with the palace making remarkable progress on the hill above, and with little Tyro growing at an astounding rate, one evening, there came a loud knock at the door.

  Kenana had been rocking Tyro while Ava sat next to the fire stitching the workers’ worn clothing. The knock was urgent and Kenana immediately feared bad news.

  Ava frowned. It was not unusual to receive visitors. After all, her little home was upon the path to the palace. Indeed, they had made many friends from the village and nearby countryside. But to receive a guest so late—and with such apparent urgency—was uncommon.

  Asher was still away, toiling on the palace with the others. He would return, as he often did, in the dead of night, dirty and sweating and full of good humor. She would sneak into his room and lay by his side while he told her of the day’s accomplishments. Often she would bandage his nicks and cuts and bruises. Asher worked hard and seemed to be prone to hurting himself.

  Ava strode quickly across the tiled floor and pulled open the heavy door. A heavyset man was standing there, breathing hard, his sweat cutting swaths through the road dust that covered his cheeks and neck. Kenana recognized his type: He was a runner with news.

  She only hoped it was good news.

  “I have a message for Queen Kenana,” said the man excitedly.