Crown in the Stars (10 page)

Sharah’s son, Adoniyram, stared at the brown-furred quiver of arrows lying abandoned upon the courtyard pavings. The girl was completely uncivilized.

Uncivilized? No, she wouldn’t have cared about the lives of others if she were truly uncivilized. Perhaps half tamed was a better description. Or half wild?

But most interesting to observe was the effect this young woman had upon Kuwsh, Master Ra-Anan, and his own mother. Kuwsh longed to destroy her for revenge. Ra-Anan clearly regarded her as a dangerous nuisance. And his mother detested her for trying to protect the lives of others—which was a decent trait in the girl and a loathsome reaction from his mother.

If Shoshannah was exactly the same as her mother, then Adoniyram was forced to conclude that the Lady Keren was honorable. And if she was actually honorable…

No. But… could my Great-King Father’s murder have been justified?

Adoniyram recoiled inwardly. This new thought was contrary to everything he’d been told about the Lady Keren. If she was not a vile, deceitful, seducing traitor, then he had been lied to for his entire life.
Which, knowing my family, is possible
.

He watched as his lovely, spoiled mother and Kuwsh and Ra-Anan discussed the new additions to the tower—which had been the main purpose of their meeting today. But now this half-wild girl had disrupted everything. Particularly Adoniyram’s ability to concentrate on ordinary matters such as the building of the tower.

Focusing on the abandoned brown-furred quiver again, Adoniyram thought,
I will learn the truth, Shoshannah. And if you are deceitful, then I will insist that you and your traitor-mother be punished. If not, then I will deal with your enemies for lying to me
.

Perek lowered Shoshannah’s arm, allowing her to walk properly and breathe more easily, but he gripped her wrist so cruelly that she couldn’t extend her fingers without pain. She longed to promise him that she would behave—for now—if only he would loosen his grip.
He won’t believe me
, she thought miserably.
I’ma, what did you do to make this Perek hate you so?

Humiliated, Shoshannah didn’t lift her head or look at the citizens on either side. She trudged through the streets after Ra-Anan’s wife, Zeva’ah; her graceful but aloof daughter; and the dignified, big-boned woman who was apparently Kuwsh’s wife.

Their destination was a low, sprawling brick residence, enclosed by a high mud-washed wall. At first glance, the residence appeared to be modest. But as Shoshannah followed the other women inside—with Perek still twisting her arm—she was amazed by the beautiful mural-painted walls, the gleaming copper ornaments, fine baskets, exquisitely crafted wooden chests,
various types of chairs, and the colorful accents of scattered fleeces, cushions, and gauzy hangings of rare cloth.

“Perek, release her,” Zeva’ah said, as if speaking to a child, “but stay near. If she makes any trouble, we’ll call you.”

Obedient, Perek went outside, giving Shoshannah a last threatening glance.

When he was gone, Shoshannah turned toward the three women, who were all studying her quietly. Zeva’ah’s gaze was subtly critical, her daughter’s reserved. Kuwsh’s wife was stolid, her broad, polished-brown face unmoving.

At last, Zeva’ah exhaled. “You smell like a horse.”

“I’ve been traveling,” Shoshannah explained, feeling like a small child receiving a scolding.

“Demamah,” Zeva’ah said to her watchful daughter, “tell the servants to bring water to the bathing room, and food and drink for the Lady Achlai. Follow me, child.” Zeva’ah said the word
child
crisply, unpleasant behind her courtesy.

While Demamah hurried off to speak to the servants, Shoshannah followed Zeva’ah through a passage to a secluded brick and bitumen-sealed room. The Lady Achlai followed unobtrusively. Zeva’ah eyed the other woman, then gestured toward a short wooden bench, as if resigned to her presence.

Why isn’t she more welcoming toward Kuwsh’s wife?
Shoshannah wondered. Although Achlai didn’t seem to require much attention.

To Shoshannah, Zeva’ah said, “If you’re going to stay here, you will keep yourself clean and well-groomed, beginning now. Get those clothes off.”

Aware of Achlai’s impassive scrutiny, Shoshannah looked away, self-consciously unpinning her gray cloak.
Zeva’ah took the cloak as if it were slimy and repulsive. When a flushed, sharp-faced maidservant crept into the bathing room carrying a clay water vessel, Zeva’ah said, “Put that down, Ormah. Then take this and burn it.”

Startled, Shoshannah protested, “But that’s my cloak!”

“It stinks as you do,” Zeva’ah said, unperturbed. “And it’s probably crawling with bugs.”

“It isn’t,” Shoshannah argued in distress. “My I’ma combed and spun that wool, and I’ma-Naomi and I’ma-Annah and I’ma-Chaciydah helped her to weave it and to bind the edges—you can’t burn it, please!”

Zeva’ah stared at Shoshannah, clearly willing her to submit.

From her place on the small bench, Achlai said, “I will take the cloak, Zeva’ah. If it’s infested, I will have it burned. If not, I will be sure it is cleaned.”

“Thank you,” Shoshannah sighed, grateful.

Achlai nodded and set the cloak nearby but said nothing more. The flushed maidservant scurried away empty-handed.

Other servants were entering and leaving the room now, bringing more water, herbs, garments, oils, coarse fibers, combs, and—to Shoshannah’s concern—face paints. Demamah also reappeared and sidled into a corner near Achlai, offering her a drink and some tiny wheat cakes. As soon as everything had been gathered, Zeva’ah pulled the thick curtains across the door. While Shoshannah undressed, Zeva’ah frowned at the soft leather leggings Shoshannah wore beneath her tunic. “I suppose those make sense if you ride horses everywhere. But I wonder at your mother’s judgment in apparel.”

Don’t say anything
, Shoshannah scolded herself, while the Lady Achlai silently gathered her clothes, and the
hidden knife, as if she were a servant.
Hush and be glad your clothes are safe!

She was also glad for the scrubbing. Between the dousings of water, the astringent nose-wrinkling herbs, the coarse fibers, and the scented oil, she felt almost renewed. Though she could feel her welts, bruises, and sore muscles, all aching and burning from head to foot—reminders of that terrible Perek.

During her last rinsing, Shoshannah watched, fascinated, as the water bubbled and gurgled down a clay pipe, which apparently drained beneath the brick floor. Then she realized that the women were staring at her. Zeva’ah looked scornful. Clearly she considered Shoshannah ignorant. Shoshannah longed to ask where the water had gone, but she didn’t want to confirm Zeva’ah’s low opinion of her.

Wordless, Zeva’ah handed Shoshannah some linen undergarments, then a tawny, one-shouldered woolen robe. Shoshannah donned them, still feeling naked when she was fully clothed. Someone coughed outside the curtained doorway, and Zeva’ah called out, “Enter.”

The flushed maidservant, Ormah, entered timidly. “The Lady Sharah has sent word that she will take the evening meal with your household tonight. And she will be accompanied by the Young Lord.”

Zeva’ah pressed her lips together, then sighed. “Send someone to the market to buy more fruit and meat and bread. Tell the cook to season the meat with good oil, herbs, and salt. Also, be sure the water and drinks are cooling.”

As Shoshannah combed her wet hair, Zeva’ah muttered, “I suppose she’s changed her mind as usual and wants to speak with
you
about something.”

Shoshannah decided it would be wise to remain
silent. She was uncomfortably aware of Achlai and Demamah both still watching her. In the Tribe of Ashkenaz, the women were always laughing, talking, and enjoying themselves when they gathered for bathing or for any sort of work. Here, however, there was no sense of companionship among the women—not even between Demamah and her mother. Shoshannah glanced at Demamah, almost pitying her.

At a sign from Zeva’ah, Demamah held the face paints as Zeva’ah mixed them with an oily concoction. The older woman applied lampblack to Shoshannah’s eyes and red ochre to her lips with remarkably thin, delicate wands of wood. When another servant coughed just outside the doorway and announced that the Lord Kuwsh would take his evening meal with Master Ra-Anan’s household—in addition to fetching the Lady Achlai—Zeva’ah shut her eyes. Then she stared at Shoshannah, clearly blaming her for disrupting her life.

“Forgive me,” Shoshannah murmured, unable to prevent the apology from escaping her lips, but Zeva’ah only frowned.

Kal
, Shoshannah thought suddenly, longing for him, dreading the ordeal of meeting that Queen-of-the-Heavens Sharah and Lord Kuwsh again tonight.
How I wish you were here! And how glad I am that you’re not! I give you my word that I’m going to escape this place or die trying
.

Achlai watched the girl, Shoshannah, her emotions mixed. The lingering grief she felt for the death of Nimr-Rada, her Great-King son, now mingled with pity for this child with the vivid slap print on her cheek. Surely she
must feel as if she had stumbled into a snake pit, with all the snakes agitated and flaring at her.
And my own husband is one of those snakes
.

“Forgive me,” the girl had said to Zeva’ah.

But do I forgive you?
Achlai wondered silently.
Certainly I must; it’s not your fault that my Nimr-Rada was killed. And it wasn’t your mother’s fault, though she longed for his death. Still, the pain is there if I consider it too much. Forgive me, Most High
.

In the merchant Tso’bebaw’s uncomfortably crowded home, Mithqah slumped down before the flickering hearth, refusing to touch her food. Tso’bebaw’s wife, Peletah, alternately fretted and wept, trying to console the grieving Mithqah. “I’m sure they won’t hurt her; she hasn’t committed a crime.”

Mithqah lifted her head. “But how can I leave her here? She’d never leave me if I were in trouble.”

“She begged us to warn our family not to come—and we must do so,” Yelahlah murmured, caressing the now-clean Rakal, asleep beside her. “I’m sure that if Shoshannah can escape, she will. Also, it will be easier for her to escape if she doesn’t have to worry that you’re here waiting for her.”