Crown in the Stars (7 page)

“Shoshannah!”

Hearing her name, and seeing an approaching band of travelers, Shoshannah dropped her mending and left Mithqah in the doorway of Tsinnah’s house. Yelahlah, a charming and lively daughter of Keren’s brother Eliyshama, led a small, plump-bellied mare ahead of her trader-husband’s boisterous family.

Laughing, she halted and gave Shoshannah a one-armed hug. “It’s so good to see you! Forgive me—I don’t
dare drop the reins;
he
will drive the horse into a frenzy if I let him.”

He
was Yelahlah’s firstborn son, Rakal. Harnessed into a basket on the mare’s back, one-year-old Rakal gave Shoshannah a proud, almost adult look, as if to say, “I rule here.”

“You spoiled baby,” Shoshannah scolded him warmly, tousling his gleaming black hair. “Why do you give your I’ma such a bad time? Though I’m sure she was like you when she was tiny.”

“Oh, how dare you,” Yelahlah retorted happily, swiping her black-braided hair off her shoulders. “I was never so spoiled as he is, and it’s my beloved’s fault, I give you my word!”

Yelahlah was infatuated with her beloved—her brash, attractive, wide-jawed husband, Echuwd. Shoshannah, however, wasn’t fond of him. Echuwd needed some kindness to temper his aggressiveness—a balance Kaleb naturally possessed. But it was not Shoshannah’s place to criticize; if Yelahlah was happy, then Echuwd—and his equally brash and black-haired family, who were now unloading their packhorses—must be endured. They were close kindred to Metiyl’s tribe.

Enthusiastic now, Yelahlah nudged Shoshannah. “I’ve heard that our I’ma-Tsinnah is finally expecting another child. How is she feeling?”

“Tired and ill.” Shoshannah sighed. “I hope I’m not a burden to her; Mithqah and I do all the work we can, but Tsinnah worries that we’re bored—though we’re not.”

“You should visit my husband’s family for a while,” Yelahlah suggested eagerly. “Let Tsinnah have some quiet time with her Khawrawsh and their family. By the time we’re done visiting, she will be feeling better.”

Shoshannah longed to refuse, but Yelahlah was already pulling Rakal out of his basket and calling to her husband. After conferring with Yelahlah, Echuwd approached Shoshannah briskly, slinging a water skin over his shoulder, his voice authoritative. “You’re welcome to visit, Cousin, but be ready to leave at dawn. My family and I have other things to do and can’t be waiting on you women.”

“What’s this?” Mithqah hissed to Shoshannah, hurrying over to her from the doorway. “What have you gotten us into?”

“Believe me, it wasn’t my idea,” Shoshannah protested under her breath.

Yelahlah was bounding inside the house to speak to Tsinnah. And Echuwd was going to find Metiyl to tell him that they would take Shoshannah and Mithqah away for a visit with Echuwd’s family. Shoshannah hoped she could at least set a time limit on her visit with Yelahlah, without offending everyone.

“Can we hide until they’re gone?” Mithqah wondered aloud, grimacing. Like Shoshannah, she didn’t care for Echuwd, whom they had met at past tribal encampments.

“Echuwd and Yelahlah would find us,” Shoshannah muttered.

Resigned, smiling determinedly, they went inside the house.

Shoshannah studied the rain-swollen western river before them, anxious. Echuwd’s family was a short distance away, fiercely bargaining with a group of hard-eyed
men who were guarding several donkeys and large, oddly rounded hutlike structures of willow and leather.

As they bargained, Echuwd’s family indicated Shoshannah and Mithqah; the strange men looked at them without interest or recognition—to Shoshannah’s relief. The farther they traveled from the Tribes of Metiyl and his father, Asshur, the more uncomfortable she became. To find herself at the western river now, instead of the eastern river claimed by her cousin tribes, was distressing.

Gently guiding Ma’khole, Shoshannah edged over to Yelahlah. “Are we already stopping for the night?”

Yelahlah shifted Rakal on her hip, looking as worried as Shoshannah felt. “We’re bargaining for those boatmen to take us downriver.”

“Boatmen? What do you mean?”

Mithqah joined them, perplexed. “Does your husband’s family live south along this river now?”

“No,” Yelahlah said, avoiding Shoshannah’s eyes. “Echuwd and his family have business downriver. Metiyl and Khawrawsh traded Echuwd’s family some newly made tools for some wonderful obsidian and copper and yew…”

“I can’t go downriver,” Shoshannah objected, her hands sweating with a sudden rush of fear. “It’s too close to the Great City. I’ma said it would be too dangerous.”

“I didn’t know we’d be coming this way so soon,” Yelahlah explained, distressed. “But Echuwd’s father wants to finish their trading before the rainy season begins.”

“May I stay here?” Shoshannah pleaded.

Mithqah planted herself beside Shoshannah, silently offering support.

“It wouldn’t be safe, and Echuwd won’t be happy,” Yelahlah began.

Even as she spoke, Echuwd approached them, his
thick eyebrows lifting, his wide jaw set and stern. “What’s wrong?”

Yelahlah immediately touched her husband’s arm, appealing, “Beloved, Shoshannah’s I’ma doesn’t want her going to the Great City—Shoshannah might be recognized by her enemies. Could some of us camp here and wait for you to return?”

Echuwd shook his head. “We aren’t coming back this way. We’ll be turning east and heading home by land.”

Shoshannah started to plead with Echuwd, but he snorted. “Don’t worry. Just cover your head with something and don’t look at anyone. We won’t be there for long; no one will notice you.” He marched away, pulling Yelahlah and Rakal with him, making Shoshannah feel like a silly child.

Mithqah stared after them, horrified. “I can’t believe he’s so unconcerned. Do you think we should just leave?”

“The two of us—alone on the steppes? No, that wouldn’t be wise. But perhaps we’ll be able to wait just outside the Great City; that would be a reasonable request.” Deciding this, Shoshannah felt hopeful. Until she realized that those odd huts of willow-ribbed leather were actually the boats.

The boatmen had finished bargaining with Echuwd’s family and were filling their now-upright vessels with mounds of straw that had been stashed beneath the overturned boats.

“Mithqah, we’re traveling downriver—with all the animals—in those!”

“Well then,” Mithqah said pathetically, looking out over the swift-flowing river, “we don’t have to worry about going to the Great City. We’ll drown along the way.”

Four

NEARING THE END of their long river journey, Shoshannah stood beside the patient Ma’khole in the huge round boat, nauseated as much by the looming appearance of the Great City as by the swift-flowing current. The tower, above all, unnerved her. It was like a ridge-patterned mountain of darkened bricks, traversed by countless angled steps, its various levels fringed with trees. I’ma had witnessed this tower’s beginning. No doubt the dreadful temple of her mother’s memory was somewhere just above that first vast level, hidden by those slime-sealed brick walls.

My enemies will hate you
.

Shoshannah pinned her gray cloak securely beneath her chin, using it to hide her quiver of arrows, now looped into the crook of her arm. In addition, her flint knife was in its grass pouch at her waist. But her problem
would be her bow; she couldn’t hide it. She would have to stay close to Ma’khole to be able to reach it easily.

“We won’t be able to wait outside the city,” Mithqah whispered, her dark eyes fixed on the tower, scared. “These boatmen will land us in the city itself.”

“I know,” Shoshannah murmured, feeling trapped.
Kal, I wish you were here. You’d have a plan; you always do. O Most High, help me
.

She pulled her hood over her head, wondering if she would be the only woman in the Great City shielding herself from some nonexistent storm. If so, then others would stare at her, which might be almost as dangerous as wearing no hood at all. In quiet understanding, Mithqah was pulling her hood over her own hair, flashing Shoshannah a brave smile. Shoshannah managed to smile in return. Now if only some of her relatives would also cover their heads, she might have a chance to remain unnoticed among them.

But Echuwd and his relatives, all quibbling and self-absorbed, ignored Shoshannah and Mithqah.

Don’t worry. Just cover your head with something and don’t look at anyone
.

Remembering Echuwd’s careless words, Shoshannah cast him a bitter sidelong glance. His disregard for her safety, and Yelahlah’s subsequent nervous abandonment of Shoshannah and Mithqah, were like painful wounds. Yelahlah—now silent and holding the squirming, irritable Rakal—seemed so bound to her husband’s will that she couldn’t insist that they must protect their guests. Hurt and resentful, Shoshannah tried to think beyond her fear.

“If we can hide somewhere until sunset, perhaps we’ll be safe,” she said to Mithqah, who nodded, wide-eyed, staring up at the tower. “I’ll try to persuade Yelahlah to help us.”

The boat swayed sickeningly. Her stomach roiling, Shoshannah watched as the boatmen turned their long-poled rudders, guiding their vessel toward a brick-lined inlet near the tower. Ma’khole shifted nervously. Shoshannah rubbed the little mare, equally nervous about disembarking.

The boatmen, however, weren’t nervous at all. They maneuvered the boat firmly against an inclined bank, then chased their cargo, humans and animals, sharply outward and upward, the boat tilting with their movements. Then—while Shoshannah stood with Mithqah on the sloped embankment, dazed and afraid—they began to disassemble their craft, calling loudly for bids on their fine, supple willow poles and straw.

As interested bargainers approached, Shoshannah hastily averted her eyes, pulling her hood close about her face and hugging her arrows tight in the crook of her arm. A hand touched her shoulder.

Yelahlah, unnaturally subdued and remorseful, whispered, “Stay close, Shoshannah. We’ll find a place to hide.”

Grateful that she didn’t have to plead for this crucial help, Shoshannah forgave her. No doubt Echuwd was a difficult husband at times, and Yelahlah was probably still learning to cope with his moods.

Kaleb, I thank the Most High that you’re not difficult. Only adventuresome. But unlike you, beloved, I don’t want an adventure like this …

Head down, guiding Ma’khole, Shoshannah followed Echuwd, Yelahlah, Mithqah, Echuwd’s family, and their packhorses through the streets of the Great City. She was intimidated by the multitudes of people and terrified of being recognized.

Echuwd and his relatives, however, moved self-assuredly. They visited some enclosed private waste pits—for a bitterly haggled fee paid in obsidian—then headed into the noisy, crowded, brick-paved market street. They had been here often, Shoshannah realized. She heard a man bellow deeply, “Echuwd! Where’s that copper you promised me, eh?”

As her husband’s relatives scattered throughout the market street, Yelahlah said, “We’ll stay over here until my family is finished. Don’t worry, Shoshannah; I’m sure we’ll leave tomorrow. Meanwhile, let’s find some food; Rakal is getting hungry. And we should barter for some grain and water for our animals.”

Shoshannah obeyed, quietly helping Mithqah to coax their mares into a gap between two merchants’ canopies, positioned against a brick and bitumen wall.

“You can’t keep these creatures here!” a sparse-bearded merchant complained from a canopied display to the left, waving his wiry arms at Yelahlah.

Immediately Yelahlah’s natural vivacity returned. She smiled at the merchant, delighted as if he had given her a treasure. “Oh, but how could we resist stopping here? You have exactly what we need: food and beautiful ornaments. My husband promised me a ring or a bracelet this journey—wait until he sees these. But first, what foods do you have for us?”

“I’m a jeweler, not a food merchant,” the man grumbled. “That’s my wife’s pastime. Honey-preserved fruits and barley water—the best in the city, I’ll admit. But what do you have to trade?”