Crown in the Stars (42 page)

Having been raised in the rambunctious, child-fond
Tribe of Ashkenaz, Tiyrac looked as surprised as Shoshannah felt. “One hand beneath its rump, the other beneath its head, Lady,” he instructed Demamah firmly, not releasing the infant until Demamah obeyed.

“Oh!” Demamah breathed, clearly thrilled. “Are all babies so light?”

Shoshannah laughed at her, and they admired the black-haired, adorably plump baby. But Tiyrac looked uncomfortable until he was allowed to return the infant safely to its mother.

As Tiyrac turned toward Shoshannah again, she lowered her head. Using her unruly hair to shield her face from Demamah, she murmured, “Listen: I have less than a year to escape—it’s serious.”

Tiyrac nodded politely, as if she had thanked him. Shoshannah wondered if he had truly heard.

I should
not
continue to think of a city girl who doesn’t even know how to hold a baby, not to mention that she’s the daughter of Ra-Anan
, Tiyrac decided, still recovering from his shock at Demamah’s ignorance. He was also aggravated at the way Ra-Anan was persistently goading the unhappy horse, Khiysh, with a flail. He hoped both Khiysh and his master would recover from this ordeal. Now, however, he had to warn Kal that Shoshannah needed to escape within the next year. Though his sister-in-law was often fond of pranks, Tiyrac believed her now.

I am more than ready to leave this place; Kal is too
.

He wondered if he should tell Shoshannah that she and Kaleb were married. Tiyrac recoiled inwardly, afraid of shocking or offending her; best to leave
that
to Kaleb.

“Kaleb.”

Kal turned, watching as Adoniyram left the tower steps, his boots crunching across the gritty, unswept paving bricks in the tower’s courtyard.
I’m in no mood to deal with you, Little Lord
, Kaleb thought, almost growling. He was too upset over being separated from Shoshannah and Khiysh. But he managed to bow and wait for orders.

To Kal’s surprise, Adoniyram removed a corded gold pendant from beneath his tunic. “Here. Please take this up to those priests for me. Be courteous and tell them that I’m offering it as a gift. It’s all I can think of to appease them for now—but don’t tell them I said
that.”

Kaleb bowed and hurried up the tower steps. He hadn’t known that Adoniyram possessed any gold at all—he didn’t live as richly as Sharah, Kuwsh, and Ra-Anan. Did the Young Lord have more gold hidden somewhere else?
Not that I covet it
, Kal thought emphatically.
I only want what’s mine—my wife and my horse. Then I’ll leave this place and never return
.

Halfway up the endless stairs, he realized he was about to speak to those disgusting priests. He would rather beat them for frightening Shoshannah. But he had to control himself, for Shoshannah’s sake.

He strode briskly into the temple, bowed to the startled priests in polite greeting, then handed Adoniyram’s gold pendant to the leopard-skin-and linen-draped head priest. “Forgive me for intruding, but my master, Adoniyram, offers this as a gift.”

The thin bald priest stared at him intently. “You’re that new guardsman.”

“Yes.” Kaleb bowed and made himself smile. He had
no intention of talking to these strange, scrawny men—they’d learn that he despised their false Shemesh, and
that
would be dangerous. “Again, forgive me; my master is waiting.”

He couldn’t leave the temple fast enough. The place was cold, lifeless, and eerie; he hated it. And they had Shoshannah visiting here constantly. He had to get her away.

Twenty-Four

KEREN TRUDGED ALONG beside her husband, exhausted, hungry, aching, and nauseated. She wished she could sit down, or at least ride her horse, but Becay and the others had decided that she and Zekaryah were less of a threat if they traveled on foot. Shem and Annah were also walking, but ahead of them for now.

Like Zekaryah’s, Shem’s arms were bound for most of their days and for all of their nights. Only the men’s leather wrist guards prevented their bonds from chafing bloody sores into their skin.

Keren hated to see them subjugated this way. Blaming herself, she swiped tears from her cheeks.

Abruptly, Zekaryah said, “Look at me.”

She looked up at him miserably, knowing he would guess what else was upsetting her. She’d been trying to count the days… the weeks…

“You’re with child.” “I hope not.”

“You have those shadows beneath your eyes.”

She couldn’t speak. Particularly not to argue. If she had those unusually dark shadows beneath her eyes, which had marked all her pregnancies, along with her other achingly familiar and usually welcomed symptoms, then he was probably right.

“Let us live to see this one.” His prayer was almost inaudible.

Keren echoed her husband silently, grieving for this infant, which could be lost. She longed desperately to see this child, to embrace it—to hold all her cherished babies… Shoshannah, Adah, Qetuwrah, Ahyit, Sithry, Rinnah. She forced herself to continue walking.

Overcome with a severe bout of sickness, Keren knelt shakily in the damp grass. She had to rest.
I was never this sick with the others. Is fear making me weak?

She
was
afraid—death seemed so near. She would be killed when she reached the Great City. And if she died, then this child would die with her. She hadn’t told anyone else of her pregnancy yet. She and Zekaryah had been quietly agonizing over the prospect for days, wondering if it would be wise to tell their captors or not. But I’ma-Annah would certainly guess soon, if she hadn’t already. Keren tried to calm herself and to will the nausea away.

Still bound, Zekaryah knelt beside her, his deep brown eyes worried; he looked as if he longed to hold her. Keren clasped his shoulder weakly, praying the nausea would pass.

But Erek rushed over to them, furious, prodding them with the butt of a spear. “Get up! What do you think you’re doing?”

Clinging to her husband for support, while trying to defend him, Keren protested, “I’m sick.” The effort of speaking was too much. She heaved in front of the startled guardsman, barely missing his boots.

Erek jumped back, revolted. The others laughed at him, while shaking their heads at her. I’ma-Annah hurried over to Keren, though Becay grabbed Shem.

“You’re delaying us!” Becay cried to Keren. “We were ordered to return quickly.”

You can blame me when we get there
, Keren thought, too overcome and too embarrassed to talk.
My sister and the others will believe anything dreadful you might say about me
.

“Keren-child.” I’ma-Annah was untying a water skin, pouring some of the warm liquid into a scrap of fleece, then mopping Keren’s face as if she were a child. She peered at Keren, a delicate crease in her forehead. “Do you think you’ll recover soon, or will this… be a while?”

Keren drooped, relieved. I’ma-Annah also seemed reluctant to share this information with their captor-guardsmen. “This will be a while.”
I hope I have a while
.

They looked at each other for a long instant. I’ma-Annah nodded and held Keren comfortingly.

The unsociable guardsman Abdiy approached, staring down at them. “She has to get up; we don’t have time for this.”

“Abdiy-child,” I’ma-Annah said gently, disapproving, “she’s ill. If you are commanded to bring her alive to your Great City, then shouldn’t you allow her to rest along the way?”

Abdiy stalked off to consult with the others. After a
long, muted debate, full of irritated hand waving and head shaking, they reluctantly allowed Keren to rest. She dropped into the grass beside her husband and shut her eyes gratefully, exhausted.

Whoever wanted her brought to the Great City, be it Sharah, Kuwsh, or Ra-Anan, they evidently wanted her alive. But they would have to wait.

Shoshannah swiftly raked a flint blade across the gleaming sides of a fish, sending shimmering, light-catching scales flying into a heap at her knees in Demamah’s courtyard. She sliced the fish’s belly lengthwise, scraped the slippery innards onto a swatch of leather, rinsed the fish in a tub of cold water, and tossed it into a nearby basket. Then she quickly snatched up another.

Plucking birds nearby, Demamah sighed, shaking her head at the mess. “Look at all the cleaning we’ll have to do. At least we’re not trapped inside with Tabbakhaw.”

“Are you finished with those yet?” Ormah scurried into the courtyard, flushed and harassed. “Tabbakhaw wants the birds first, then the fish as soon as possible. We’ve got the lamb roasting and the wine cooling in the jars. Why did those people arrive so early? As if we don’t have enough to do.”

Those people
. Shoshannah frowned to herself, scraping the fish hard with her blade. Shem’s eldest son, Father Elam, was here a week earlier than they’d expected. And he had brought his wife and his youngest brother, Father Aram, who was Shoshannah’s own great-grandfather. A boisterous, food-loving man, Aram had ignored everyone, talking instead with Ra-Anan of trade in the Great City.

I’ma-Annah didn’t teach you to be so rude, Father Aram
, Shoshannah thought.
You’ve become that way yourself. You’ve also betrayed the Ancient Ones and the Most High by attending this ceremony honoring that Nimr-Rada and his Shemesh. Your dear parents would be so hurt to see you …