Crown in the Stars (26 page)

“What did you give Rab-Mawg?” Ghez-ar demanded as Awkawn blearily wandered out from the sleeping area.

“I’ve just awakened. I didn’t give him anything.” Awkawn rubbed a hand over his rough-whiskered face, staring at Rab-Mawg, who was now sitting against a wall, disoriented and clutching his head, guarded by Ebed.

Baffled, Ghez-ar looked around and spied the mashed clay tablet and the clay cup beside it. Inside the cup was a murky liquid with a thick, foul-looking residue at the bottom. Rab-Mawg had evidently been experimenting
on himself with some of their latest “herbs” and had underestimated the strength of this mixture. Worse, he had impatiently tested his potion during the girl’s lessons—a terrible mistake. Ghez-ar frowned. Their revered chief magician was obviously becoming dependent on the herbs for his “visions,” seeking Shemesh.

We must stop you from destroying yourself—and us
.

The next night, as she knelt with Demamah on the darkened terrace beneath the star-scattered sky, Shoshannah watched Rab-Mawg and listened to him, shocked. He was soft-spoken, courteous, and baffled by her account of his wild behavior the previous morning. “Surely she misunderstood me.”

Impatient, Ra-Anan snapped, “Don’t pretend with me! Perek said you were raving. Whatever you drank, don’t drink it before her next lesson. Any more scenes like this, and I will beat you both.”

“I regret worrying you, Master.” Rab-Mawg sounded wholly sincere.

Was he the most convincing liar in the world, or did he truly not remember his terrible behavior? While Shoshannah was deliberating, Ra-Anan beckoned her severely. “Come here. You will behave now and not waste any more of our time with your foolish excuses; sit and pay attention. These lessons are for your benefit.”

Lessons
, Shoshannah thought bitterly.
Stories created from your own little minds to fit pictures in the stars
.

Gracious, as if forgiving her for accusing him unjustly, Rab-Mawg inclined his head toward Shoshannah. Behind him, Ebed, Ghez-ar, and Awkawn watched her, clearly
worried. They were probably hoping she wouldn’t persist with her accusation—though it was true. No doubt they feared that Master Ra-Anan would dismiss them from their coveted, honorable positions as servant-priests in the tower of Shemesh.

What would the four of you do then?
she wondered, as she and Demamah knelt a little nearer to the priests. They would have to become ordinary farmers and tradesmen, or canal diggers. It would be quite a tumble for them if they were removed from their golden temple on this tower.
I’m sure you would do almost anything to keep your positions here, including killing me
. Scared by the thought, Shoshannah paid careful attention as Rab-Mawg explained the patterns in the stars.

“We are now in the month of Shemesh, with the Serpent, the Lady, and the Lion, represented by these stars here and those stars there. Soon, the Promised Child will be revealed over there.” He rested his hands on his knees, his face shadowed. “These signal the times of harvest, which are followed by the days of balance—of weighing and measuring grain. In the coming months, you will see the symbol of our Great King riding the eagle of Asshur, for he conquered those tribes.”

Father Metiyl’s tribe. And Tsinnah’s tribe
, Shoshannah thought desolately.
She’s had her baby by now. And it seems as if I never visited her at all
. Sternly she scolded herself,
Don’t think of them! Finish your lesson so you can leave
.

The detestable Master Rab-Mawg talked for half the evening. She forced herself to listen to him and to repeat what he had told her. She indicated which stars were a part of her lesson tonight, and why. And she recited which stars were to appear in the following weeks. By the
time she finished, even Ra-Anan was pleased with her. “Very good, child.”

Though his tone was patronizing, it was the first time he had actually complimented her. But having his approval felt more like a betrayal of her parents than an accomplishment.

Demamah had been silent throughout the evening. Now, however, trailed by two guardsmen, she clasped Shoshannah’s arm, delighted, as they pattered down the moonlit tower stairs. “You did so well! That went so easily—thank you!”

“Were you afraid I’d create another scene?”

“Of course.”

Despite herself, Shoshannah laughed in the humid, bug-rasping summertime darkness. Feeling better, she scampered down the last stairs after her uncle, heading toward a torch-bearing guard who waited with their horses.

Suddenly other footsteps rushed at them from the darkness. A shadow collided with Ra-Anan, jostling him, obscuring him briefly. Ra-Anan cried out sharply, then roared and lashed out at his attacker. Shoshannah heard scuffling, an appalling choked squawk, and a terrible bone-crunching noise, followed by a loud, hollowish thud.

Guards rushed past Shoshannah and Demamah, toward Ra-Anan, and Demamah shrieked, “Father? Father!”

“Demamah, hush!” Ra-Anan snapped. After a brief pause, he disentangled himself from the shadows and from a form lying limp on the brick pavings, and returned to the torchlight.

Shoshannah clung to Demamah, horrified, staring at Ra-Anan. The side of his face was gashed with blood and
he was limping, his expression terrible, unearthly in the wavering light.

“Uncle…” As Shoshannah was trying to gather her wits, the guardsmen dragged a body into view: a rough, thin, death-staring man with blood oozing from his bashed nose. She shrank back. “That’s the man I saw yesterday.”

Warily Ra-Anan studied her, then looked around. “To your horses, both of you. There may be others.”

They obeyed him in shocked, hurried silence.

Fourteen

IN THE MORNING LIGHT, Adoniyram stood in his uncle’s courtyard, staring at the would-be assassin’s leather-shrouded body. Ra-Anan eyed Adoniyram accusingly. “This is the same troublemaker you encouraged us to compromise with some time ago.”

“I remember. He was Dayag—a fisherman.” Adoniyram looked away from the dead man’s battered features. Determined to correct his uncle, he pretended ignorance, asking, “Did we fulfill the promises made to him when his lands were claimed by the temple priests?”

“They offered him lands in exchange, which he rejected.”

Inferior lands, away from the city and the river—which was his livelihood
, Adoniyram reminded his uncle inwardly.
And that was your fault; you know it. You control everything here, including your priests
.

Studying the long ointment-laden slash on Ra-Anan’s face, which would leave a scar that could never be hidden, Adoniyram said, “I hope there are no others in the city who think like him.”

“He
is dead,” Ra-Anan said crisply, satisfied. “And I will destroy any others just as easily. One blow to the throat and two to his head.” Contemptuous, he yanked the leather shroud closed and signaled to his guards. “Tie this thing and dump it in the river south of the city.”

While the guards hurried to obey, Ra-Anan limped toward his residence again. Adoniyram followed, suspecting that his uncle’s fight for life had been more desperate than he implied. In addition to the facial gash and the limp, Ra-Anan’s right hand was bruised and swollen, and he was moving cautiously.

Keeping his voice neutral, Adoniyram asked, “Are my cousins well?”

“Still sleeping.” Ra-Anan was terse. “They were unhurt, but badly shocked. I’ll acquire more guards to reassure them.”

And to reassure yourself
, Adoniyram decided, entering the main room.
You were badly shocked too, Master-Uncle. You thought you were unbeatable. But perhaps you were wrong. And so was I
.

“If you find any exceptional bowmen, remember, you’ve promised them to my household.”

“We will see,” Ra-Anan muttered, easing himself onto a heap of cushions.

Zeva’ah entered the main room now, perfectly robed, flaunting gold cuffs and a new red-beaded necklace hung with flat, gleaming gold leaves. She carried a copper tray laden with flat bread, dates, seared spiced fish, a fine gold plate, linens, and four gold cups—also new, Adoniyram
decided. Obviously Ra-Anan had “accepted tributes” from tradesmen that were meant as offerings for the tower priests. No doubt tradesmen and priests alike were furious with Ra-Anan.

Zeva’ah set her tray on the woven mat beside her husband and cast a searching look at the gash on his face. He ignored her, reaching for a piece of the soft bread and some fish.

Ormah entered the room now, bearing two clay pitchers.

“Go wake the girls,” Zeva’ah commanded as the maidservant set the pitchers beside her. “They can’t sleep all day.”

Ormah obeyed meekly but sneaked a smiling glance at Adoniyram before leaving the room. He averted his gaze.

Ra-Anan ate in silence, but Zeva’ah maintained a trivial, sociable conversation with Adoniyram until Demamah and Shoshannah emerged from the curtained passageway. Both girls were barefoot and clad in simple linen gowns and robes. And both looked wonderfully drowsy and young without their usual face paints. They immediately bowed and knelt, worriedly peering at Ra-Anan. He frowned, causing them to straighten and focus on their morning meal.

“Your father is well,” Zeva’ah told Demamah, smiling too brightly as she poured diluted wine into the gold cups and passed them around. “Thank the heavens and go about your work; last night was nothing.”

You can’t pretend your enemies are nothing
, Adoniyram argued silently, undeceived by his aunt’s smile.
Poor Dayag was only one of many
.

Demamah accepted her mother’s verdict quietly, as
did Shoshannah. They shared Demamah’s gold cup and picked at their food, downcast.

Adoniyram forced himself not to stare at Shoshannah—tempting as she was. Let Ra-Anan and Zeva’ah guess at his feelings toward her; he wouldn’t confirm them openly. He knew full well that they used Shoshannah to lure him into their household, but he wasn’t going to fall into whatever else they might be scheming.
I may use you instead
.

A commotion sounded from the courtyard: horses snorting, men calling to one another, servants running. Zeva’ah put down her gold cup and smoothed her robe. A guardsman rapped lightly at the wooden door frame, coughed apologetically, then bowed and announced, “Lord Kuwsh has arrived.”

Ra-Anan quickly swallowed his entire cupful of watered wine, flashed a chilling glance at Adoniyram, and muttered, “No doubt your mother will be here soon also.”

She will need to gloat
, Adoniyram thought. Nodding politely, he said, “I’m sure you are right, Uncle.”

To emphasize his less exalted status, and to put his enemies at ease, Adoniyram set his food aside and stood to greet Lord Kuwsh. Demamah and Shoshannah also stood, folding their hands before themselves and bowing as Kuwsh entered the main room.

Showily garbed in new linen robes, massive gold cuffs, and a gold collar, Kuwsh waved a dismissive hand. “Sit. Eat.”

Adoniyram sat down without a word, watching and listening. Demamah and Shoshannah knelt, eyeing Kuwsh anxiously.

He ignored them but sat beside Ra-Anan. “You look remarkably well. My servants told me you were badly wounded.”

Pouring himself a cup of undiluted wine—though it was not his custom to drink so much—Ra-Anan said, “Your servants are useless as spies; you should dismiss them.”

“Perhaps I should. Obviously they exaggerated.” Kuwsh studied Ra-Anan now, critical. “If that cut was the worst of your injuries, then you’re fortunate. However, I’d advise you against going out before it’s healed. That’s a nasty slash.”

“Yes, it would be a mistake to seem vulnerable,” Ra-Anan replied, his tone acidic. “I’ve decided to forgo the temple ceremonies. I’ll send offerings to the priests instead.”

“The more the better.” Kuwsh pointedly surveyed the new gold cups.

Ra-Anan gave him a sharp, forbidding look. Adoniyram bit down a smile and finished his drink.

“Will you have something to eat?” Zeva’ah asked Kuwsh gently, offering him the gold plate containing a bit of fish, some bread, and dates. Kuwsh accepted but only toyed with the food.