Crown in the Stars (50 page)

As You planned
, Annah thought to the Most High, amazed.
This is Your will
. “Shem, the stranger, the traveler we saw by the river… When we met him, did you feel the Presence of the Most High?”

“You sensed Him there too?”

Kuwsh dismounted in his courtyard, stunned. His household was teeming with people he didn’t recognize. Everything was in turmoil. His four youngest sons, their wives, and Achlai were standing in the courtyard. Achlai hugged herself fearfully as their sons and daughters-in-law jabbered to each other, trying to communicate. Sabtekaw, his usually glib youngest son, spied Kuwsh first and rushed toward him, talking frenziedly. His three brothers joined him, anxious, letting citizens and servants loot his household while they tried to argue.

Achlai approached now, her face grave as always, her dark eyes tear dampened, grieving. “My husband, we have nothing left here now. Perhaps our eldest son will understand what we say…”

She wept and began to embrace her children as if bidding them farewell.

Sebaw
, Kuwsh thought, dismayed. His second-born son—now the eldest—had always politely detested Nimr-Rada and avoided the Great City, and Kuwsh.
How can I possibly turn to Sebaw?

Ra-Anan heard his wife screaming before he entered the house. Zeva’ah was in the main room, pummeling Demamah, who cowered and wept in a corner, heedless of their dumbfounded guests: Father Elam, Father Aram, and their elegantly robed, raven-braided wives and all the servants. And heedless of the intruders pouring into his house.

Desperate to bring his wife to reason, Ra-Anan grabbed Zeva’ah, shaking her. “Stop! Our household is being overrun by thieves! What’s wrong with you?”

“Tell your father what’s wrong!” Zeva’ah screamed, pushing the ashen, sobbing Demamah toward Ra-Anan. “Talk to him.”

To Ra-Anan’s horror, Demamah fell to her knees, pleading with him in low, tortuously fractured syllables. Ra-Anan shook his head at her, stupefied, “I don’t know what you’re saying. I don’t know…” He had awakened at dawn, full of confidence in his life and his power. Now, at midmorning, he realized he had nothing at all.

Twenty-Seven

“HERE!” KALEB LEANED into the small storeroom and handed Keren, Zekaryah, and Shoshannah bows, quivers of arrows, and knives. “Hurry, before we’re caught.”

Elated at being with her parents and Kaleb again, Shoshannah slung the quiver over her back and tested her bow. It was her own bow, confiscated by Adoniyram; Kaleb had reclaimed it for her. She longed to hug him for his thoughtfulness. Quickly, she snatched an arrow and held it against her bow, ready to use.

“Go,” her father urged quietly, pulling open the door.

Shoshannah darted from the storeroom, following Kaleb.
Let us be successful
, she prayed.
Not like last time
.

Her parents followed her, their arrows clattering softly against their bow staves, their boots scuffling as they rushed through another brick-and-bitumen room, obviously
a kitchen. A matron-cook in a smudged tunic and two fleece-cloaked guardsmen were chattering at each other, flustered amid piles of vegetables, bread dough, and baskets of eggs and fruit. The cook gaped at Shoshannah and Keren and retreated, fearfully. The guardsmen eyed Kaleb, Zekaryah, and all their weapons, then backed into a wall trying to avoid them.

Encouraged, her pulse racing, Shoshannah dashed outside after Kaleb, her mother and father at her heels. Warm straw-horse-manure scents greeted them from a sprawling, wide-doored set of buildings, the stables shared by Adoniyram and Sharah’s households.

“Let’s find our horses and gear,” Zekaryah muttered, looking around inside. To Keren and Shoshannah, he said, “We’re lacking one horse; you’ll have to share.”

“I’m taking Khiysh when we go after Tiyrac,” Kal said, resolute.

As Kaleb guarded them, they swiftly readied the horses and gathered what they could find of their travel packs and tents. Then Zekaryah helped Keren onto a light brown horse, handing her the reins and her weapons.

“Tiyrac will be in the stables behind Ra-Anan’s home; he could bring our other horses,” Shoshannah informed her father as he boosted her onto the horse behind Keren. With a pang of distress, she added, “I wish I could see Demamah before we leave.”

“My little Demamah…” Shoshannah felt her mother sigh. “Kal told us that you’ve lived with her in Ra-Anan’s household. But we have to find Tiyrac.”

“Someone’s coming!” Kal backed inside the shadowed doorway. “One of Sharah’s guardsmen. He’s got a horse we can borrow—then we’ll have two for Father Shem and I’ma-Annah.”

Zekaryah crept up behind Kal and waited. Keren kept the horse still, and Shoshannah lifted her bow, cautious. The instant the guardsman rode into the stable, Kal grabbed the unsuspecting rider’s arm and tunic belt and threw him to the stable floor while Zekaryah caught the horse. As Kal dragged the squawking guardsman to his feet, Shoshannah begged, “Don’t hurt him, Kal.”

“I won’t.” Kaleb released the scrawny, terrified man.

Keren stiffened, recognizing him. “Erek.”

Zekaryah growled. To Shoshannah’s shock, he walloped the frightened guardsman in the stomach, then shoved him face-first into a manure heap and kicked him ferociously in the rump. “You’re blessed I don’t kill you!” Still glowering, Zekaryah leaped onto Erek’s horse as Kaleb mounted another and snatched the spare animal’s bridle.

The guardsman Erek was retching in the straw as they rode out of the stables.

“What did that Erek do to make Father so angry?” Shoshannah begged in a whisper.

“He was a coward and a spy—always,” her mother explained, clearly convinced that Zekaryah was justified in attacking him. As they guided their horses into the crowded, disordered streets, Keren said, “Watch for I’ma-Annah and Father Shem.”

“I knew I’d heard I’ma-Annah calling me this morning!”

Even as she spoke, Shoshannah heard Shem yell, “Zekaryah, wait! Here we are.”

Shoshannah desperately wanted to jump down from the horse and hug I’ma-Annah and Father Shem, but she didn’t dare. People were gathering now, gawking at Keren, yelling gibberish as Shem and I’ma-Annah mounted their own horses. Thankfully, the people seemed unable
to talk among themselves coherently enough to plan an attack.

“What’s happened to them?” Keren wondered aloud, incredulous.

“This is how Adoniyram sounded to me this morning,” Shoshannah murmured, her earlier distress returning. “I couldn’t understand anything he said—it’s the same with everyone here.” She felt ill, scared.

“Shoshannah-child,” I’ma-Annah called to her above the din, “are you well?”

“Yes, but let’s leave, please!” Shoshannah begged, her courage failing.

“As soon as we find Tiyrac,” her mother promised.

They rode to Ra-Anan’s residence, with Zekaryah and Keren brandishing their weapons at anyone who blocked their path. As they turned toward the stables, Zekaryah called out, “Keep your weapons ready and stay together. Tiyrac! Where are you? Tiyrac, answer us!”

They all began to shout themselves hoarse.

Demamah stood with her family and their guests in the main courtyard, weeping as gangs of furious men invaded her father’s house, destroying whatever they didn’t claim for themselves. If only they could be reasoned with… if only they could be placated.
But Father has no way to speak to them, and neither do I
.

The confusion of everyone’s speech was the worst thing of all. Tabbakhaw had chased her from the kitchen, shrieking horribly; then their guests had backed away from her as if she was some bizarre, terrifying creature, and her mother had struck her face, her back, her arms.

Until her father had returned… angry and babbling as senselessly as everyone else.

And he had returned without Shoshannah.

Demamah feared the priests had killed Shoshannah after all. She tried to ask about her cousin, but no one could speak properly and tell her. She didn’t know how she would survive without Shoshannah’s companionship, her humor.

Have I deserved this?
she cried silently, glaring up at the heavens through her tears.
Just kill me
.

“Tiyrac!” A man’s voice resounded harshly beyond the walls. “Where are you? Tiyrac, answer us!”

Other voices joined the man’s, causing Demamah to turn.
Shoshannah
. She heard Shoshannah’s voice, calling Tiyrac, of all people. And she had understood Shoshannah’s words.

Demamah bolted from the courtyard, passing her distressed relatives and her angry parents, determined to find her cousin.

Tiyrac appeared from behind the stables, carrying a bale of hay, looking baffled, then flabbergasted to see them all waiting for him. Shoshannah would have laughed at his expression if the situation weren’t so serious.

Zekaryah rode forward, calling out, “Are you alone there? Hurry! Get your horse.”

“And mine!” Kal bellowed as Tiyrac flung down the hay and raced into the stables.

And mine
, Shoshannah thought.
Ma’khole
. “I’ma, please, I have to get Ma’khole.”

“We may not have time,” her mother began quietly.