Crown in the Stars (15 page)

Meherah sighed, drooping visibly. “I pray so too, child.”

Zeva’ah cleared her throat and flung Shoshannah a firm, nudging glance. Unhappily, Shoshannah said, “Thank you for coming, and for bringing my garments from the Lady Achlai. Please, tell her that I thank her with all my might—she didn’t need to trouble herself for me.”

“Oh, but she did,” Meherah protested, leaning forward. “It would shame her before the Most High if she
didn’t help you when you were so…” Her explanation faded beneath a fierce look from Zeva’ah. “Pardon me, Lady.” Meherah bowed to Zeva’ah, who lifted her chin indignantly.

Clearly their visit was finished. Zeva’ah and Demamah stood, as did Meherah. Shoshannah followed them out to the main courtyard, hating to see Meherah leave. Swiftly, before Zeva’ah could stop her, Shoshannah hugged the startled Meherah and kissed her cheek. Father would want her to, she was sure. And so would I’ma. Kissing Meherah a second time, Shoshannah said defiantly, “That’s from my I’ma, and from Father! I hope I see you again, I’ma-Meherah.”

Meherah departed, on foot, and in tears. As Shoshannah faced the tight-lipped Zeva’ah and the wincing Demamah, she realized that she had lost any chance of seeing her precious Ma’khole for many days. But I’ma-Meherah was worth it.

You believe in the Most High
, Shoshannah thought to Meherah, amazed,
as does the Lady Achlai. Most High, I beg You, let me see them both again
.

Kneeling alone in Demamah’s room, disgraced, Shoshannah thankfully inspected her clothes. As the Lady Achlai had promised, her cloak was clean, and so were her other garments. But most surprisingly, Shoshannah found her knife—in its woven grass sheath—stitched securely inside her cloak. She wondered why Achlai or Meherah had sewn it there. Did they simply want to be sure it wasn’t lost? Or were they silently encouraging her to conceal her weapon until she could escape?

Troubled, she folded her cloak and tucked it beneath the coverlets on her bed.

Dressed again for a hunt, which she didn’t look forward to, Shoshannah followed Demamah to the main courtyard. But as they stepped outside, Shoshannah saw Ra-Anan threatening two of his men, who knelt before him, obviously terrified. “I don’t tolerate drunken fools who wake peaceful citizens, then beat them and steal their belongings! You will never forget this day if you live, I assure you!”

His dark glittering eyes flashed to Demamah and Shoshannah, who bowed. Shoshannah quaked inwardly, trying not to stare.

Furious, Ra-Anan snapped, “You’re early! Get out. Go to the stables and find your gear!”

Shoshannah fled with Demamah, who seized her hand and hauled her outside the gate. There they almost collided with Perek, who was approaching, carrying a long, thick, menacing whip.

“Are you escaping, Daughter of Keren?” he demanded.

Shoshannah cowered, but Demamah spoke breathlessly. “My father told us to go to the stables and find her gear. We’ll wait there until he sends for us.”

“Be sure you do,” Perek said, brandishing the whip at Shoshannah.

Already Demamah was pulling her away, fleeing again. Shoshannah couldn’t believe how fast her cousin could run in those sandals and tight clothes, her long hair and robe fluttering behind her. Demamah rushed Shoshannah into a plain, low, mud-brick building, which
was horse scented and set apart from Ra-Anan’s residence. Inside, Demamah collapsed onto a pile of straw.

As Shoshannah dropped beside her, Demamah shut her eyes, gasping, “I don’t want to hear them scream when they’re punished. I can’t bear it!”

Shoshannah looked around, wondering if they were being overheard, though the brick-stalled stable seemed deserted by its servants and all but a few horses. Hushed, she asked, “Do these punishments happen often?”

“Often enough.”

“Perek wouldn’t kill them, would he?”

“No.” But Demamah looked uncertain. And wretched. Glancing at Shoshannah, she murmured, “It’s horrible… knowing Father has such power. I keep telling myself that he
must
be severe. He has to maintain order.”

“And you wish he could be like anyone else.”

“Yes.” Seeming determined to change the subject, Demamah stood. “Father said we should find your gear. Where is your Ma’khole?”

Taking a halter from a peg near the door, they found the little mare in a pen in the far corner of the stable. Also, in the corner of the pen, Shoshannah found her battered leather pack. She scooped it up and led Ma’khole to the open area near the doorway. There she inspected the mare’s dark coat, her eyes, her sides, and her legs. She was well-groomed, placid, and fed, wearing protective leather “boots” strapped to her hooves. Shoshannah eyed her approvingly.

“She’s beautiful,” Demamah sighed.

“You should ride her sometime,” Shoshannah said, stroking the mare’s neck, delighted. “She’d love you. Wouldn’t you, Ma’khole? I’m so glad to see you!”

A low voice interrupted, “I was told you were here.”

Startled, Shoshannah looked up.

Adoniyram sauntered into the stable, his handsome face smiling, yet subtly truculent, daring her to argue. “While our Master Ra-Anan is disciplining his men, Cousin, we can finish our conversation.”

Shoshannah’s courage wavered. She didn’t want to quarrel with Adoniyram, particularly while they were un-supervised in this half-empty stable.

Demamah begged, “Adoniyram, don’t create trouble, please!”

“Would I be so rude?” He caressed Ma’khole’s dark back. “I merely want to know what our Shoshannah has to say about my mother. And, whatever you say, of course, it will be the truth, won’t it, Cousin?”

Was he mocking her? Did he believe she would lie? Revived by her indignation, Shoshannah said, “Of course it’ll be the truth, but you won’t like it.”

“The truth about what?” Demamah whispered, her eyes wide, bewildered. “Does Father know?”

“Yes, he knows. And I have his permission to tell Adoniyram.”

Though Shoshannah spoke softly, Adoniyram heard. He inclined his head, polite.

“Of course my Master-Uncle knows everything. And, Demamah, I know you have to tell him whatever we say here, so we’ll be sensible; don’t worry.”

It’s true; She’s bound to tell Ra-Anan
, Shoshannah thought, transfixed.
She’s probably had to tell him everything I’ve said
. She stared at Demamah, her emotions torn.

Demamah looked humiliated and upset with Adoniyram. He seemed not to notice. Smiling at Shoshannah charmingly, he said, “Tell me what you know, Cousin.”

Eight

SHOSHANNAH GLANCED around the stalls, praying they wouldn’t be overheard. “Give me your word that you won’t tell your mother what I’m about to say.”

He leaned forward, seeming amused. “If I swear by our Shemesh, who rules us from the heavens, will you believe me then, Cousin?”

Quashing her temper, Shoshannah answered nicely, “Truly, if you have
any
sense of honor, Cousin, your word is enough.”

To her satisfaction, his dark eyes widened, confounded, as if his integrity had never been doubted before.

“Shoshannah, don’t argue,” Demamah pleaded. “Just tell him whatever he wants to know so he will leave.”

Adoniyram looked from Demamah to Shoshannah, his expression changing, hardening. “I’m glad you trust me so much, both of you.”

“You’re the one who doubts I’ll tell you the truth,” Shoshannah reminded him. “I doubt the truth will be safe with you. Give me your word.”

Ma’khole shifted between them, her ears flickering at their voices. Shoshannah rubbed her soothingly, determined to say nothing more unless Adoniyram obeyed. He was too proud. And spoiled.

He sighed, sounding disgusted. “You have my word, though you don’t need it, I assure you. And I
do
believe you’ll tell me the truth—though, you have to admit most of what you say is upsetting. Now, tell me this secret my own mother has hidden from me.”

Shoshannah looked him in the eyes. “You have a brother. Your mother abandoned him and his father—her true husband—for the chance to ‘marry’ the Great-King Nimr-Rada.”

Adoniyram stared at her, silent, clearly struggling within himself, believing her against his will.

Gently Shoshannah continued, “Your brother is named Gibbawr. He’s about ten years older than you, and he lives among the northern tribes with his father. He was an infant when your mother left him, forcing my mother to come with her to this Great City. My mother still grieves for his sake.”

“Of course she does. She’s
honorable
, unlike my mother!” Adoniyram snapped, smoldering, “Don’t worry, Cousin. I’ll keep our secret.” Bowing almost rudely, he turned on his booted heel and strode out of the stable.

Shoshannah realized she had wounded him deeply. Distressed, she looked at Demamah, who looked away.

When Demamah finally spoke, she sounded miserable. “Shoshannah, I give you
my
word… I hate telling my father about our conversations, but I have no choice. If he
ever catches me lying to him, I’ll be like those poor men out there in his courtyard, wondering if I’m going to die.”

“I believe you.”

“But do you forgive me?”

“Yes.” Softly, Shoshannah added, “I hope you have less to tell him from now on.”

“I hope so too. Be as dull as you can.
Please.”

Shoshannah laughed wryly, then sighed. Being dull was far less inviting than an escape. And now that she knew where Ma’khole was sheltered, now that she had her warm, sturdy clothes and her weapons, an escape was possible. She began to make plans.

Adoniyram left the stables, stormed through the hushed courtyard, and entered his uncle’s home. In the main room he halted, staring at Ra-Anan, who lounged on a mat drinking from a small gold cup.

Ra-Anan frowned. “Sit down, Adoniyram, please. Since our hunt has been delayed this morning, we might as well talk. Shoshannah told you about your mother?”

“She did.” Adoniyram half knelt on a mat, facing his uncle, still staring at him, loathing what he saw. “As you commanded her.”