Crown in the Stars (9 page)

Shoshannah cringed inside.
I won’t allow that to happen now
.

A gatesman, thickset and rough skinned in his fleece cloak, bellowed to the claw-draped lead guardsman. “Perek, where’s Master Ra-Anan? Did he send
her
?”

“Of course he didn’t,” Perek snapped, tying his bow onto his horse, then dismounting. “And what do you mean, ‘Where’s Master Ra-Anan?’ He left the tower before I did. My men and I were told of
this
as we reached the marketplace.” He motioned toward Shoshannah contemptuously, adding, “We brought her here, since Master Ra-Anan said he would meet here with Father Kuwsh and our Lady.”

“Well, he’s not here yet.” The guard tugged uncomfortably at his rough cloak. “Most likely he stopped at his home to eat and rest.”

“We’ll wait. He’s probably on his way.” Perek snorted and spat vigorously on the pavings. He sneered at Shoshannah. “Tell us: who are you?”

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” she said, keeping her voice low.

“I didn’t ask what you did! Who are you?” “Shoshannah.”

Perek narrowed his eyes. “Who is your father? And your mother?”

Do I tell him?
Shoshannah wondered.
It’s obvious that I’m like Mother. But what about Father? I think not
.

As she hesitated, Perek marched over to Mithqah and wrenched her off the tawny mare, twisting her arm fiercely behind her back. Mithqah screeched in pain. Scared,
Shoshannah tumbled off Ma’khole and blurted out, “I’m the Lady Keren’s daughter. Please, don’t hurt my friend!”

“Don’t move,” Perek commanded sharply. “You stand just where you are, hands at your sides, Daughter of Keren. I don’t want to lose any of my men because you’ve done something stupid.”

“Do you think I’d want that?”

“You’re undoubtedly a troublemaker, like your mother.” The guardsman allowed the teary-eyed Mithqah to stand straight now, but he continued to question Shoshannah. “Why are you here?”

“I was forced to come.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Believe me; I didn’t want to come to this horrible Great City! My cousin’s family brought me here unexpectedly—they’re traders.”

“I’m sure they wish they could have traded you for anything else!”

Shoshannah bit down a harsh response. The guard was still threateningly near to Mithqah. And he was motioning to a lesser guard to hand him a spear. She had to behave.

Voices alerted them all now: servants in pale tunics with white pendants about their necks were hurriedly clearing the street. Just behind them was their master, walking, followed by two beautiful, black-haired women clad in linen and gold. The guardsmen around Shoshannah all bowed, even Perek. Without being told, Shoshannah knew she was about to meet her mother’s eldest brother, the dreadful Ra-Anan.

He looked bizarre—bald, white robed, smooth shaven, cold, tall, and proud. Immediately he approached Shoshannah, eyeing her as if she were an odd brick, badly
baked. To Perek, he said, “Bring her in when she’s called. Don’t let any of the guards touch her.”

Shoshannah stared after him as he proceeded through the gate, followed by the two women. One of the women—younger, with unbound hair—gazed at Shoshannah searchingly, until the braid-coifed older woman guided her gracefully onward.

Mithqah hurried to stand beside Shoshannah, sniffling moistly and wiping her eyes on her cloak. “That’s
him
?” she demanded. “Ugh!”

“My thought exactly.”

My enemies will hate you
. Her mother had said those words.

I’ma
, Shoshannah thought, heartsick,
I hate your enemies. O Most High, help me to behave
.

Someone hurried up to Shoshannah now: Yelahlah, holding little Rakal.

Perek raised a big hand to order her away, but Yelahlah lifted her chin. “I am a daughter of Eliyshama, brother of your Great Lady and of Master Ra-Anan. You
will
let me follow my cousin Shoshannah inside. She’s been my guest, and I’m responsible for her. Others might be offended if you refuse.”

Perek’s hand dropped as if weighted by a stone.

Shoshannah smiled at Yelahlah, proud of her. Mithqah sighed, relieved. They were encouraged by Perek’s unexpected submission. A guard spoke to them quietly from the gate, motioning with his spear. “Inside, Lady. Leave your animals; we’ll tend them.”

Taking a deep breath, Shoshannah obeyed, walking through the gate with her companions.

Five

SHOSHANNAH PRAYED she wouldn’t stumble as she entered the huge, crowded courtyard. Yelahlah walked beside her with little Rakal, but Mithqah was clutching Shoshannah’s arm, almost holding her back. Hissings and whispers came from the haughty men and women standing on either side of them.

Shoshannah almost forgot her fear. She had never imagined that so much fine wool and linen and so many gold-and-jeweled ornaments existed in the whole earth. Not to mention face paints. Some of the women’s garishly painted eyes and lips reminded her of poor Khiysh—though Khiysh might actually surpass them for beauty.

From behind her, Perek growled, “When our Queen of the Heavens appears with her son, you will kneel.”

Queen of the Heavens?
Shoshannah almost laughed aloud. What did the Most High think of such a title as He
looked down upon her? To Mithqah she muttered, “No doubt she can tell the sun, moon, and stars to bow to her as well!”

“Not to mention the wind,” Mithqah agreed. “Ozniy and Kal would have a few things to say about
that.”

If they’d been alone, Shoshannah knew they would have giggled. Their secret joke gave her courage. It also made her forget to kneel.

She stared as a shockingly colorless woman with light curls, richly painted and bejeweled, entered the courtyard, followed by a handsome young man and fawning, tunic-clad servants. Instantly all those gathered, high and low, dropped to their knees. And all, except Yelahlah and Mithqah, touched their foreheads to the pavings. Shoshannah alone stood, incredulous.

A whipping sound cut through the air behind her, and something struck the backs of her legs, felling her. She landed on the bricks, bruising her knees and catching herself with her hands, scraping her palms painfully. Infuriated, she sat up straight and turned, glaring at her attacker, Perek. He brandished his spear at her.

You must truly hate my mother
, Shoshannah thought, enraged. Facing forward, she saw that the pale, beautiful woman, now seated on a high, fleece-covered bench, was scowling at her. No doubt she was Sharah; the resemblance to Keren was striking but marred by the woman’s exceptional pallor and self-importance.

“Bow, child,” Sharah commanded.

“Only because you are the sister of my mother, and we are in your own household,” Shoshannah said. And, accompanied by Mithqah and the encumbered Yelahlah, she bowed. When she sat up again, she noticed that the handsome young man seated near Sharah was studying
her warily, as if she were a deadly, peculiar thing. She raised an eyebrow at him, bemused. He must be Sharah’s son. But the Queen-of-the-Heavens Sharah was talking, her voice low and hard.

“If you speak so rudely again, I will have you beaten. Do you understand, girl?”

Perfectly
. Shoshannah nodded stiffly. Mithqah edged closer to Shoshannah’s right, clearly reminding her to behave. To Shoshannah’s left, little Rakal was squirming and grunting, trying to escape Yelahlah’s grasp.

When Rakal yowled in frustration, Sharah said, “You, woman holding the child, who are you?”

Respectful, hushing Rakal by giving him her new bracelet, Yelahlah said, “I am Yelahlah, a daughter of your own brother Eliyshama. Our Shoshannah, here, has been my guest. Please, let us return to our families; we’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Oh, but you
have,”
Sharah said, her sarcasm making Yelahlah stiffen visibly. “You’ve inflicted yourselves upon us. Now we must decide what to do with you.”

A commotion at the gate made everyone turn. A dark man, garbed in a leopard-skin mantle, showy gold ornaments, and a fine linen tunic, swept into the courtyard, his head held high. He was accompanied by a plain, dignified woman, who gazed at Shoshannah, her brown eyes watchful and calm.

But the leopard-skin-draped man seethed. “I’ve heard the news. This is her daughter?”

“She is, my lord,” Master Ra-Anan said politely, inclining his head. “We are discussing what should be done with her.”

“Her mother should suffer for her, as I have suffered for my son,” the man said. His obsidian-black eyes glittered as
he knelt near Sharah, next to Ra-Anan. Everything about this man alarmed Shoshannah; she sensed he had the power to fulfill whatever threats he might make—and he had less self-control than Ra-Anan.

“That must be Father Kuwsh,” Yelahlah whispered to Shoshannah nervously, clasping Rakal in her lap.

Shoshannah nodded and focused on the conversation, feeling ill.

Master Ra-Anan was speaking again. “Do we keep her in the Great City then?”

“Yes!” Kuwsh was vehement. The self-possessed woman beside him shook her head, but he paid her no heed. “She stays.”

Seated in her high place, Sharah frowned. “Very well, if it pleases you, my lord. But I want her kept out of my sight. And she will have no lands or household of her own—nothing that might give her any power here.”

“Of course,” Master Ra-Anan said politely. “But what about the death order? Should it apply to her as it did to her mother? I’m not willing to risk my men’s lives for her.”

“Nor am I,” Shoshannah announced, catching a stern look from Ra-Anan. “That death order was a torment to my mother; she still grieves that it was ever—”

“As you wish,” Sharah interrupted. “The death order no longer exists for you, or for your mother. No one will die for touching you.” She nodded at Perek, who was still kneeling behind Shoshannah. “Slap her.”

Perek stood and bowed, then walked around to Shoshannah. She looked up at him, feeling all the blood ebb from her face. He smiled coolly—and then gave her a ferocious slap that sent her reeling against Mithqah. Her left ear stung and hummed with the force of his blow; the whole side of her face burned.

“Shoshannah!” Mithqah’s voice trembled, edging toward hysteria, but she helped Shoshannah to sit up again.

As she was trying to steady her spinning head, Shoshannah listened—through her right ear—to Sharah asking, “What about those two women and the child?”

“Send them away,” Kuwsh said. “Let them return to their families and tell Keren what has happened to
her.”

He wants I’ma to come here so he can kill her!
Horrified, Shoshannah begged the shocked Yelahlah, “Tell everyone to stay away from here, please! I’ll escape eventually, Yelahlah; tell them I will! Mithqah…” She looked at her friend, desperate, her voice rising. “Don’t let
anyone
come after me; I mean it! I don’t want anyone to die—”

“Oh, heavens,” Sharah said loudly, cutting through Shoshannah’s panic. “She sounds too much like her mother. Perek, shut her mouth.”

Shoshannah ducked, trying to ward off Perek. Instead of striking her, however, he tore her quiver of arrows off her shoulder and dropped it, then snatched her arm and twisted it into her back, forcing her to sit up. Streaks of fiery pain shot through her arm and shoulder, passing into numbness. Then Perek grabbed her chin, pulling her head back hard. Shoshannah winced, sweating, struggling to breathe.

“Say one more word and I’ll go after your little friend again,” Perek muttered. “Perhaps both of them—and the child.”

Shoshannah kept still. Even when servants took Yelahlah, Rakal, and the distraught Mithqah away, she didn’t utter a sound. But she couldn’t prevent her tears.

When they were gone, Ra-Anan said, “Perhaps it would be best if my wife, Zeva’ah, took her into our household.”

Sharah agreed with an indifferent wave of her hand.

Now the quiet, dignified woman beside Kuwsh stood. After bowing to Kuwsh, she looked over at the two lovely, graceful women behind Ra-Anan. “I will accompany you.”

“Perek, go with them,” Ra-Anan commanded. But the order seemed needless to Shoshannah; Perek was gripping her arm as if he would never release her again.