Crown in the Stars (27 page)

Another servant rapped humbly at the outer doorpost, stepped in, and bowed to Ra-Anan. “Master, the Lady Sharah is coming with her household.”

Adoniyram wished his mother weren’t so predictable. He offered his empty gold cup to Zeva’ah. “I’m finished, thank you, Aunt.”

Zeva’ah smiled, but her eyes looked stony. She poured a bit of liquid into the cup, wiped it dry with some linen, then refilled it almost to the brim with straight wine for their drink-loving Queen of the Heavens.

“Trust her to arrive and create a scene,” Kuwsh muttered.

Adoniyram seethed. How ridiculous of Kuwsh to accuse Sharah of creating a scene when he was enjoying Ra-Anan’s misfortune just as much.

Soon enough Sharah swept into the room, haughty, fleshy, pale, and overladen with jewels and gold. To Adoniyram’s disgust, her curls were unbound, and her linen robe swept the floor behind her. He greeted her with a dutiful kiss, then offered her his place and sat on a mat nearby.

“I see you’re still alive,” the Great Lady said to Ra-Anan sarcastically. She nodded to Kuwsh, then glanced at Demamah and Shoshannah, who stood and bowed. Scowling, Sharah waved a petulant hand. “Oh, if you must stay, then sit down!”

The girls sat.

Sharah accepted the wine from Zeva’ah and laughed at Ra-Anan, triumphant. “What a scar you’ll have! See what happens when you make the citizens hate you?”

“Remember your own words, my sister,” Ra-Anan warned, baring his teeth at her.

Sharah sniffed, pleased.
“That
won’t happen to me, ever. The people adore me, and you know it. I’m like their own loving mother.”

And unlike mine
, Adoniyram retorted in his thoughts. He longed to escape now, to take refuge with Shoshannah and Demamah, to tease them and laugh with them, to listen to stories, and to persuade them to hunt with him as they hadn’t done for weeks. Instead, he had to listen as his mother demanded Ra-Anan’s account of the murder attempt for her own amusement.

While she listened, Sharah sipped from her cup and repeated self-righteously,
“That
won’t happen to me; I

haven’t made enemies for myself the way you and Lord Kuwsh have done.”

Adoniyram noticed Ra-Anan and Lord Kuwsh’s offended scowls and wondered, as always, how his mother could be so deluded.

Shoshannah refrained from squirming in the presence of her elders. All the gold manners and pride in the world wouldn’t make Lord Kuwsh, Lady Sharah, and the smoldering Master Ra-Anan and his Zeva’ah into wonderful people. She hated being bound to them. And yet, it would have been truly horrible if Ra-Anan had died last night.

She froze at the thought, staring down at the mats, suddenly realizing how close she had been to disaster. If Ra-Anan died, Zeva’ah would toss her out like rubbish. She might escape, but more likely someone else would claim her to fulfill a private scheme: Kuwsh. Sharah. Rab-Mawg. Or Adoniyram.

Sick to her stomach, she reminded herself that of the four, only Adoniyram hadn’t expressed a wish to kill her. And although he had openly defended Rab-Mawg’s claims toward Shoshannah, she feared that, given the chance, Adoniyram would make her his wife. He had indicated his desire toward her often enough. And marrying him would be another kind of death. She would have no hope of ever returning to her family. Or to Kaleb…

As Shoshannah stared at the mats, dazed, the Queen-of-the-Heavens Sharah raised her voice indignantly. “These are new cups! And that is a new necklace, Zeva’ah. Did you think you could hide them from me?”

“This is my home; I have nothing to hide,” Zeva’ah said, an edge beneath her courtesy. “My beloved gave these to me the day before yesterday.”

“You’re jealous because they snatched them before you did,” Kuwsh taunted Sharah.

Ra-Anan said, “Sharah, this is not your concern.”

“Isn’t it? I think you have taken what should be mine.”

Shoshannah closed her eyes during the petty quarrel that followed, reminding herself to be grateful that Ra-Anan was alive.

Shoshannah heard Demamah stirring in her sleep, apparently disturbed. The attack on Ra-Anan had affected her badly. She wasn’t eating and obviously she was sleeping poorly—as was Shoshannah.

I’ll talk with her tomorrow
, Shoshannah thought, bolstering her own lagging courage.
Her father is alive and we don’t have to attend the ceremonies at the tower, which we’ve both been dreading
. Truly, there were mercies…

Turning her thoughts toward the Most High, as she hadn’t for weeks, she wondered,
Are You here and guarding me after all?

Wearing a leopard-skin robe formally clasped over his left shoulder, Rab-Mawg inspected the sparkling gold-covered altar. Fragrant wood, spices, and resins were all there, perfectly arranged, ready to be lit during the ceremony tonight after he had received the offerings. Satisfied, the young chief magician-priest relaxed, smiling to
himself. Today, the highest day of Shemesh, was indeed a day to celebrate. For the first time, he would have the worshipful citizens to himself during the ceremony, unrestrained by the presence of Master Ra-Anan.

Furthermore, Ra-Anan had sent gifts to the temple to atone for his absence. Or, more accurately, he had returned some of the goods he had stolen earlier.

You survived
, Rab-Mawg thought, regretful.
But if there was one attempt on your life, there may be another, and the next attack might succeed. Then I’d be free of you. Perhaps next year at this time, you’ll be gone
. And then Shoshannah would fulfill her mother’s vows.

I’m glad you are afraid of me Shoshannah
, he thought.
Even if you don’t trust in our Shemesh, or follow him, you will follow me
.

Now, contemplating the girl’s near-disastrous lesson, Rab-Mawg frowned, troubled. The new mixture of herbs, seeds, and rhizomes had been more powerful than he had expected. Too powerful. He had gained no vision from the potion. Instead, he had lost his memory of that whole day and the next morning. Ghez-ar and the others had been alarmed and furious that he had endangered their places in this temple.

Next time I will be cautious
. And there would be a next time. He was convinced that this new mixture, properly measured and balanced, would provide the euphoric appearances and understanding he sought from the heavens.

Ebed, Ghez-ar, and Awkawn emerged from behind the linen draperies. Rab-Mawg nodded and smiled, letting them see that his eyes were clear, that he was sober and ready for this all-important day. Mockingly, he said, “We should pray for our Master Ra-Anan’s full recovery.”

They all laughed together.

Fifteen

IN THE TWILIGHT, amid echoing canine yips from the surrounding grass slopes, Kaleb sat with Tiyrac and the others before the small evening fire. But he was uncomfortable, aware of Zekaryah staring at him.

At last Zekaryah spoke. “You’re too perfect.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Kaleb muttered to Tiyrac beneath his breath. His concern heightened as Zekaryah half knelt behind Kaleb, grasped the thick horseman’s plait that Kaleb had proudly worn for years, and began to slice it off with a flint blade.

Everyone but Echuwd and little Rakal groaned in loud protest. I’ma-Keren cried out, “Zekaryah, no!”

Don’t argue
, Kaleb warned himself, shutting his eyes hard.
It’ll grow back. This is for Shoshannah… though she would laugh
.

Beside him, Tiyrac growled as Zekaryah gave his hair the same treatment.

“Don’t bathe,” Zekaryah instructed. “Hands and face only.”

“What-what do you mean?” Tiyrac sputtered. “We’ll get fleas!”

“Even better.”

Resigning himself to misery, Kaleb mourned aloud, “We’ll look and smell like animals.”

“Good,” Zekaryah said, brandishing their severed plaits at them.

Keren approached him now, holding out one demanding hand. “Give those plaits to me; their mother will want them.”

I want mine
, Kal thought. Curious, he glanced sideways at his brother’s brutally chopped locks. “You look worse than I do.”

Tiyrac snorted, then really stared at him and grinned. “Well, your whole head looks crooked.”

“Crooked or not, it’s still prettier than yours!”

Hearing this, the brawny Metiyl slapped his knees and bellowed and howled with his irrepressible laughter until they all joined him—relieving their tension with merriment.

When they could breathe again, Kaleb stood and circled around the fire to Father Shem. Kneeling before him, perfectly reverent now, Kaleb begged, “Pray for us, please. And for Shoshannah.”

Shem smiled. Kaleb might be a scoundrel and unruly at times, but he trusted in the Most High with all his
might—which was considerable. Thoroughly satisfied, Shem gripped Kal’s shoulders and prayed for him. For Shoshannah. For them all.