Shame of Man (32 page)

“Of course. You have been depressed ever since. It must be about time for the funeral.”

“Yes. Huuo asked me to locate the bones without removing them, so that he will find them promptly. This morning I went there and poked all through the ashes with a staff, dreading what I would find.”

Carverro waited, but she was silent. “And you found them?” he prompted her.

“No.”

After another pause he prompted her again. “You looked more carefully then?”

“I looked as carefully as I could without putting those ashes through a sieve. I found no bones.”

“Could someone have taken them?”

“No. There was a light rain not long after the fire, wetting the ashes in place, and they have been undisturbed since. I watched that fire die; I do not think anyone was there, ever.”

“Was the fire so hot it burned even the bones?”

“Not that hot. Not to entirely burn up fresh bodies.”

Carverro looked at her. “Something is amiss,” he agreed.

“Where are the bones?” she asked.

“From what you tell me, there are no bones. That suggests something remarkable.”

“It suggests what?” she asked, not volunteering anything. She wanted him to say it.

“That the hill folk did not slay the family. That instead they took them away to be slaves or hostages.”

“Then they could be alive,” she said.

“They could be alive,” he agreed.

“And I couldn't tell Huuo,” she said.

“Just as well. They could have been carried away, wrapped in cloth to fool the gatekeeper, but you know that Annai would not have submitted to slave-girl use. No highborn Philistine would. So the barbarians might well have killed her.”

“And what of the children?”

“Better we not inquire. Death might be preferable.”

Again he had echoed her concern. “But before I returned to try to talk to Huuo, at that woman's house, I inquired.” She paused, but this time only briefly. “There is still no news of any marauding hill folk in this area at this time. They have been minding their own primitive business. In fact most of their men are with that upstart ruler, Damon.”

“David,” he said. “King David. Upstart he may be, but he did just defeat the Philistines in battle. I hear it was a grievous loss.”

“Yes. So it wasn't a raid. It was just a cattle trading day that got out of control. But would such ruffians, suddenly running wild, have taken the trouble to carry away a Philistine family?”

Carverro opened his mouth, and paused, considering. “No,” he said after a moment. “That's not the way the hill folk are. They don't plan ahead; they just rampage when they get the chance.”

“Then why no bones?”

Carverro shook his head. “Something is very strange, here. Very strange.”

Crystal gazed at him. “So what could I tell Huuo?” she demanded.

He spread his hands. “Your observation. Your suspicion. He must be the one to judge.”

“That is what I concluded. But that woman was there, and—”

“You think she could have something to do with it?”

“I don't know. But she met him so conveniently, and just happened to have that house to sell, and she's so interested in him. She's even trying to be left-handed, because of her pretended injury to her right hand. I almost wonder if she didn't buy that house, so she could pretend to have inherited it, so she had a pretext to come here at this time. But that suggests such a monstrous plot—”

“Monstrous indeed,” Carverro agreed. “But it does fit your observations. Some plot to abduct Huuo's family, making it seem that they were dead—”

“So that woman could seduce him,” Crystal concluded. “I have hesitated even to imagine such a thing, yet—” She shrugged.

“And you couldn't tell him, in her presence,” he said. “Yet there must be a way, because this is too important to let pass.”

“I thought I had found a way. I was caught there by the storm, and they craved diversion, so they prevailed on me to tell a story.”

“Prevailed on you?” He laughed, “As if you could ever be shut up!”

“They did ask me,” she said, somewhat stiffly. “And I realized that there is an aspect to the history of Baal that might relate.”

“When he seems to be dead, but returns to life!” Carverro exclaimed. “As just might be the case with Annai!”

“Yes. So I told them that—they took it as fantasy, of course—and dwelt on the aspect of the seeming death. But I fear it had a different effect than I wanted.”

“Different?”

“When I left, they were so interested in each other that they didn't notice me at all.”

“Well, you must admit that the goddess Anat is as fair a morsel of sex appeal as any woman, and if Baal did it eighty-eight times with a heifer, how much better to—” He broke off, seeing that his wife wasn't with him. “Evidently the male perspective differs. But I can say that if I were a widower in the presence of a woman as healthy as that Philistine is said to be, a veritable Delilah, and I heard a rousing rendition of the loves of Baal, I would be interested. We must be realistic, Crystal.”

She realized that he was trying to be helpful. “But suppose Annai lives? Then what of such seduction?”

Carverro assumed a serious expression. “If I thought you died, and a woman seduced me before your funeral, and I then learned you lived and that she was implicated in the ruse, I would kill her. To redeem my honor.”

And so would Huuo, she realized. “I think I had better not tell him. Not without proof. But how can I, a mere Canaanite woman, ascertain the truth?”

“I think it is time for a mere Canaanite man to get involved,” he said, picking up the hint. Actually, he was intrigued by the mystery, and he did have good regard for Huuo and his family, so it was an easy decision to make. “I will see what the menfolk can learn. Meanwhile, you continue as you have, giving no hint that you suspect anything. For surely if there is a conspiracy, for what ultimate purpose we don't know, and they think you suspect, your life will not be safe.”

“Oh!” She had not thought of that. But she had accomplished her immediate purpose: to get her husband involved. Because though the women were adept at learning secret news, the men were adept at doing things, and something needed to be done.

In the morning Huuo woke somewhat refreshed. He reflected on what had happened in the evening, and realized that while his horror and grief for the loss of his family continued, he did have to orient on his future. It had been indiscreet to bed Scylla, but perhaps inevitable. She was certainly a winsome woman. Never would he consider her in lieu of Annai, but as a temporary creature, akin to a session in the temple with a priestess, she was more than adequate. Still, he felt guilty for weakening, and intended not to do it again. He would see to the funeral for his loved ones, and she would sell her house and return to wherever she had come from, and then he would see about making a new life.

How sensible it all seemed! But only because he was walling off the sea of his grief, so that he could do what had to be done. When he had acquitted his obligations, then he would also be free to grieve fully.

He got up, cleaned up, and went to the main room. Scylla was already there, preparing breakfast for them both. Her robe covered her body completely, yet somehow did not conceal its pliant nature. Whatever else she was or was not, she was a most attractive woman.

“Do you know,” she said as they completed the meal, “while I am of course chagrined by what happened last night, I must also confess that it was my private delight. You are an excellent lover.”

“I thought we had agreed to forget last night,” he said gruffly.

“Oh! I am sorry. So we did. It was just that my dreams were so—I just couldn't help thinking how delightful it would be to—but I have said too much.” She turned her face away.

She was right, and he knew he should let it be. But she had inadvertently intrigued him. “Delightful to do what?” he asked. Because he suspected that she was not talking about mere sexual activity.

“No, it is foolish and impossible. Come, you must see to your arrangements, and I must see to mine. I have not begun to market this house.”

But, perversely, he pursued it. “What is impossible?”

“Please, Huuo, do not press me. There can only be embarrassment for me.”

Which made it even more intriguing. “How can a mere dream be embarrassing?” he asked, though he knew that this was certainly possible.

She faced him, flushing slightly. “You intend to have this of me? I would rather take you to bed again.”

He had resolved to avoid that, but now he was tempted. “I don't think that would be fair to you, considering that soon we will part and not see each other again. This is not the festival, or a chamber in the temple.”

“True. But we might pretend it was. Shall I be a priestess of Ashtoreth for you?” She opened her robe to show her breasts.

He smiled, though the sight stirred a desire for just that. “You are trying to divert me from the subject. So you won't have to tell me your embarrassment.”

She hung her head. “Yes. It was a transparent ploy.” She closed her robe.

Something about her fascinated him, though there was guilt behind it. She said she wanted to bed him again; he wanted the same. The more she tried to divert his sexual interest, the more she incited it—and even when she tried to use sexual appeal to divert him from something else, his interest increased. He knew he should depart this house, leaving her behind. And knew he wouldn't. “What is your secret thought?”

She made a little sigh of resignation. “I knew I shouldn't have let any hint slip. You are a musician, bound to follow the melody to its end. But my fancy is not simply told.”

She was still teasing him. “We have time. Tell it as it needs to be told.”

“I was originally a citizen of Gaza. But I committed an indiscretion, and was exiled by the seren.”

“Would that be Seren Jaoch? I met him.”

Her eyes widened. “You know him? Then I really must not tell you this!”

He smiled. “Be at ease. We are not friends. Merely acquaintances. How did you annoy him?”

“I seduced one of his favored officers.”

“I can imagine.” She had never made a secret of her propensity. “But surely that happens routinely.”

“He was married to a woman with political connections. When she learned of our relationship, she required her husband to charge me with trying to discredit him. The seren believed it, and sent me away. She had her vengeance, sure enough, for I do love my home city, and long to return there.”

“That's understandable. But what has this to do with me?”

“I think Lord Jaoch suspected that I was innocent of that particular crime. But he had to support his officer. I think Lord Jaoch would let me return, were I in other guise.”

“Other guise? How can you ever be other than yourself?”

Her flush deepened. “If I were someone's wife. Particularly if that person were prominent.”

“Then your course seems simple. You have only to beguile a noble, and—”

“I have affairs passingly. But I have never married. Because I could marry only a man I truly loved. Only to him could I be duly subservient. And I have never encountered a man with qualities compelling my love. Until now.”

Suddenly her meaning struck him. “You—you find me such a man?”

She met his gaze. Her eyes seemed large, with depths of innocence. Her lower lip trembled. “Must I answer?”

Flattered but confused, he found only one response. “I think you had better.”

A tear appeared at one eye, and trickled down across her flush. “I love you,” she whispered. “I dreamed of marrying you. There: I have said it at last.”

“But I am—” He broke off, appalled. He was no longer a married man.

“You are not ready for this,” she said softly. “I didn't want to tell you. And it is indeed a foolish dream. Why should I marry to return to my home city—when I would not care where I was, were I with you? So it makes no sense. We shall part and be strangers soon enough.”

“I suppose so,” he agreed. “In any event, I wouldn't care to leave Mor.” But as he spoke he knew it was not so. What was there to hold him here, now that Annai was gone?

Scylla got up and went to her bedroom. Huuo remained where he was, trying to make sense of the chaos of his thoughts. He was in a situation he would never have chosen. But he could not escape it. Suppose he went his own way—who would see to his comforts? Since he had married, the routines of the world had retreated; Annai had taken care of them. He had focused on being the best musician he could be, and making the family living thereby, with considerable help from Annai's supportive dancing. Even the children had not been a burden, for she cared for them too. Though Minah might have found a home in the temple, with her prettiness and her affinity for the spirits. Chipp might have found employment as a musician's helper, for he had learned useful things. But now they all were gone, and he was alone, and he had little notion how to cope. Go out alone? He wasn't sure he could.

So regardless of his grief, he needed a woman. Crystal would help him all she could, but there were sharp limits. She was a servant, and she had her own family. He needed a Philistine woman—yes, a wife. And Scylla was offering. This was not something he wanted to face while his grief was raw, but he knew that there were decisions he would have to make regardless of his grief. It was possible that Scylla would be an appropriate choice. If she wanted to return to Gaza—well, Seren Jaoch had asked him to go there. He could have a good situation, and Scylla, as a native of that city, would certainly know how to handle its ways. Marriage between them? It could be a rational choice.

But not yet. He simply wasn't ready. The memory of Annai was too strong.

He became aware of something. A curious faint sound. He oriented on it. Then he realized that it was Scylla. She was lying face down on her bed—he could see her through the doorway—and sobbing.

Because he had shamed her by making her express her secret thought. He had been cruel, though her dream was not unreasonable, when considered cautiously.

He got up and approached her room. She did not know of his nearness. He hesitated, gazing at her. Her robe was in some disarray from her haste in throwing herself down, so that one of her thighs showed fairly high. He felt guilty for considering her body when she was in such misery, yet the sight did stir his desire. Somehow he desired her each time he was close to her, and the sexual urge mixed with and colored his impression of her situation. What did he really want of her? A temple priestess? Or a woman to take care of him? Who happened to be a dancer, as Annai had been.