The Crossing (19 page)

Ruth plucked at a stray thread. “He made me sit right next to him and underneath the table he—handled—my legs.”

It was just as awful as she'd feared. “Anything else?”

Even in the gloom of night, Maryam could sense that Ruth was blushing as she spoke. “When I was about to go he asked, right out in front of everyone, when my Bloods would be finished and I could wed with the Lord.” Ruth was ambushed by a shiver she could not control. “He looked at me so—so—hungrily, Maryam. Like te bakoa eyes its prey out on the reef.” Her voice wavered. “Mother Lilith looked at him sharply. Maybe you are right about him, after all.”

Outside the door, the snoring stopped so suddenly both girls held their breaths. Then a long loud explosion of wind erupted and the guard, again, began to snore. The friends giggled, the tension and fear forgotten in this one moment of childish mirth. But the seriousness of their situation soon re-emerged.

“Listen to me now, Ruthie. This is what you must do. Lie to him and anyone who asks again. The Lord will forgive you
this once—just say your bloods are still there even if they stop. We only have to last three days. I will work at regaining my strength and learning how to read the stars, and you must secretly pack for our voyage. We'll need our clothes and personal things—pack my feather and the blue stone you gave to me—and try to get down to the storeroom and take as much te kabubu powder as you can hide. I do not know what else we'll need—but Mother Deborah tells me she will sort this out.”

Ruth's eyes had widened, their whites shining like mother-of-pearl. “How will we get off the ship?”

“I still don't know,” Maryam said. “But I have plenty of time to plan, so leave that problem up to me. All you need to do is come to me three nights from now, at the full moon. Say that you are sick and go straight to your room without dinner. While they are eating we will run.”

Ruth slowly nodded her head. “But what will happen if we're caught?”

“We'll
not
get caught,” Maryam hissed. “I have only one shot at this or I am dead.”

Joseph came to see Maryam the next morning, barging in despite the protests of the guard. She greeted him with her warmest smile, happy to see him looking so much better.

“How dare you?” he started straight in. “You and my conniving mother planned this behind my back, knowing full well I'd never agree to it. How dare you?” he repeated, standing there in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips and his legs apart as though he were about to leap at her in his fury.

Maryam felt as though he'd slapped her down and her cheeks turned crimson as his angry eyes bored into hers. All the strength she'd regained after a deep night's sleep deserted her, and she found she could hardly lift her tongue to respond. “You look better,” was all she said, and she could see how her words unnerved him: obviously he expected her to wade right in to defend her role.

He dropped his pose, baring his thin white arms to her to reveal the puncture wounds the needles had made. “You could have died!” There was such pain in his voice, such remorse, it touched her heart.

Again she lit him with her smile. “But I did not. And now you have a better chance of living, too.”

“But why would you risk this for me? I'm an Apostle, nephew of the man who'd see you left to die.” He jerked, as a new thought occurred to him. “Did my mother put you up to this? Did you have no choice?”

Maryam wearily pushed herself up the bed to prop herself
against the wall. It was so good to see him standing there, such a relief. Tears spouted in her eyes and she bit down on her bottom lip for a moment to halt their flow. “The choice was mine.” One lone tear escaped, gliding down her cheek before it dripped on her chest, landing in one small damp circle right over her heart.

Two steps and he was at her side, collecting her up in his arms and pressing his lips against hers in a kiss that left her dizzy, and her heart beating very, very fast.

Joseph drew back, brushing a springy ringlet from her eyes. “I don't want to lose you now. Promise me there are no other plans I do not know.” His sky-blue eyes fixed on hers, demanding that she tell the truth.

“I promise,” she whispered, her voice still struggling to regain some kind of calm. That kiss…that kiss! It was enough to fight for, all on its own. She reached up and traced her index finger around his curvy pink mouth, their eyes still locked as he took her hand and pressed that finger to the centre of his lips, kissing its tip.

“Tell me, really, how you feel,” she said to him now his rage was spent.

“I hate to admit it, but as soon as I woke from the toddy I could feel the energy returning to my body, and the fevers went.” He squeezed her hand. “Though knowing that it came from you makes me feel so selfish and ashamed.”

“Don't,” she pleaded with him. “My motives were selfish, too.”

He scoured her face, trying to understand. “How so?”

“Your father and mother built the means for my escape—to take this gift without you would be wrong.” She smiled, squeezing his hand in return. “Besides, I do not want to leave without you, simple as that.”

For the first time since he had entered the room Joseph now smiled. He pulled her to him again, embracing her as he sank his face into her fragrant hair.

“Then we must plan quickly,” he mumbled, his hot breath tickling inside her ear. “I leave for home this afternoon.”

Maryam counted down the days, each moment trapped inside the small damp room adding to her discontent. Each time Mother Lilith or Michal came to check on her she just had time to feign exhausted sleep. Once, they came together, their obvious glee at her apparently declining state was hard to digest. Their callousness preyed on her mind in the long hours she was left alone to brood and scheme. How could they stand by so happily and watch her die, while speaking of the Lord's will?

It was beyond her comprehension. But it hardened her resolve to leave this place and flee as far from it as wind and sea allowed.

When she was sure no one would come to check, she crept out of bed and worked at rebuilding her strength. It was hard, at first, even to walk across the room: it left her shaky and short of breath. But slowly, as the hours blurred past, the weakness eased—thanks, in most part, to dear Hushai, who fed her well and brought her special herbal remedies to boost her blood.

Occasionally he'd sit a while and speak of the cherished long-lost days when their ancestors had ruled the lands and travelled vast distances across the sea. At times like this she'd question him on details in the star book that she found hard to grasp, or quiz him on his knowledge of currents and tides. If he
did not have an answer, he would go away and search it out, ever adding to her store of facts. When the enormity of what she was about to do overwhelmed her, it helped to feel she'd have these scraps of knowledge to aid her once they made their break. She tried to think of the great unknown ocean as her friend, but late at night, when the old ship creaked and groaned upon its ragged bed of reef, new fears arose and swamped her mind. Even if they managed to escape the clutches of the Apostles and sail away, what guarantee was there they'd not be drowned, fodder for sharks?

She fretted, too, for Joseph and for precious Ruth. Joseph, she could only trust, was restored enough to make the voyage. As for Ruth…she worried her friend could not further resist Father Joshua's carnal clutches and would be debased. In this Hushai tried to comfort her, checking in with Ruth and passing messages between the two. Yet in her late night musings, Maryam was not convinced that Ruth could muster up the nerve to come. She had such faith in the Apostles, despite everything she'd learned. Would she really have courage enough to spurn the Rules?

Then the morning of the great day dawned, pallid light spilling in through the filthy window as Maryam rose to wash herself in the bucket of warm water Hushai had kindly smuggled in moments before. She stripped away her stale clothes, standing naked to lather soap all over herself and shift the grime. As her hands rubbed over her breasts, she paused mid-sweep and closed her eyes. Her breasts had grown larger, no longer the small buddings of a child. How would it feel, she wondered, if the fingers that so tenderly caressed them were not her own but Joseph's? A deep shooting current gathered force inside her stomach and fired down into the secret place from
which life sprang. She dropped her hands as if poisoned, her eyes springing open to dispel the thought, and hurriedly rinsed off the soap. Those thoughts were foolish. Dangerous. She must not let them cloud her mind.

How the day dragged on, as she paced the floor. Before her stood two possible futures—one, a voyage into the great unknown; the other, brutal seizure and death. Her head grew jumbled with such thoughts. Try as she might, she could not dampen down the tension that churned inside her like a storm-tossed sea. She pressed her nose so many times against the window, trying to decipher weather and winds, it formed a smear upon the glass. What if they couldn't escape the ship? If someone spied them as they left? Or if the sea rejected them and carelessly tossed them back to land? Or, worst of all, swallowed them whole?

For what she fervently hoped was the last time, she underwent the gruelling inspection of her health. Mother Lilith came alone, frowning as she picked up Maryam's arm and watched it drop, lead-weighted, back onto the bed. She leaned in close, listening to Maryam's heart. Again she frowned, as the pulse clattered out its fear at alarming rates.

“Tomorrow we will see an end to this,” she murmured, more to herself than Maryam, who lay as passively as she could bear.

Maryam fluttered her eyes open, meeting the woman's gaze for what she prayed would be the final time. She licked her lips and swallowed hard, giving the impression that her mouth was dry. “May the Lord grant you all that you deserve,” she muttered, smiling with a sweetness she did not feel as she recalled the words from the Holy Book.
They that plough iniquity, and sow wickedness, reap the same.

The physician, meanwhile, smiled back, a shadow of regret now in her eyes. She placed her cool dry hand on Maryam's brow. “Such a waste. If only you had accepted the limitations of your birth.” She brushed her finger tenderly down Maryam's cheek. “You never were the
real
Chosen, little one. That place is ours alone.”

Such rage swept Maryam at Mother Lilith's arrogance that she closed her eyes again to hide this window to her soul. If she'd had doubts of what she was about to do, they now took flight. She would never again accept the lies, the treachery, from those who took the word of the Lord and twisted it to their own will. Better to be dead. The risk she was about to take seemed suddenly less terrifying.

Later, just before the evening call to dine, Hushai drugged the guard, filling him with such a potent brew of anga kerea toddy that the poor man didn't stand a chance. His drunken snores accompanied Ruth as she tiptoed into the room, laden with two bags filled with their few meagre belongings and as much te kabubu powder as she could lift.

The two girls hailed each other with a quick embrace, both so on edge they could not remain still for long. Ruth jumped at every little sound, haunted and apprehensive as she passed one of the bags to Maryam.

“I have begged off sick from dinner,” she explained, helping adjust the straps that tied the loads on their backs. “Told them I am taking a toddy tonic and will sleep it off.”

Maryam laughed. “You and that poor guard as well!” A strange sense of exhilaration swept her now, all fear retreating to one tiny corner of her brain. She longed to go, could not wait another moment to be free of this unholy place. But first she
had one more private task to undertake. She took a deep breath, as though about to dive into the sea, and beckoned to Ruth. “Follow me.”

“Where are we going?” Ruth whispered, as they headed back the way she'd come.

Maryam did not bother answering. Instead, she stopped outside the treatment room where Mother Lilith had stolen her blood. “I'll just be one minute,” she whispered back. “You wait out here.”

Despite Ruth's nervous state she nodded silently and did not question further. Maryam opened the door, already reassured by Hushai that no one lay inside.

The room reeked of the astringent Mother Lilith used to clean all her equipment, a sharp acidity that stuck in her throat and conjured up the terrors she'd experienced here. She didn't pause for reflection on this, however, instead heading straight for the benchtop where the implements of torture were displayed. She tried not to think too much about the implications of her actions as she gathered up all the transfusion instruments and carefully stashed them in her bag. She would not risk Joseph's life again; she would find a place to cure his ills, and if that meant shedding more blood along the journey she'd do it gladly for his sake.

Now she left this torture room behind, about to grab Ruth's arm to guide her back down the corridor toward the open deck, when Mother Elizabeth walked casually around the corner and found them there.

She stared open-mouthed at Maryam, struggling to contain her shock. “Te bebi! I can't believe you're standing there. I just came down to say goodbye.”

Goodbye?
Did this mean she somehow knew of their escape plan and approved? Maryam was so overwhelmed by this sudden show of love and understanding she dropped her guard, rushing to her surrogate mother and flinging her arms around the woman's neck. “Thank you, Mother. This means a lot.”

“It is a miracle to see you so defiant in the face of death.” Mother Elizabeth eyed Ruth over Maryam's shoulder, small lines of puzzlement forming on her brow. Her gaze lit on the bags both girls carried on their backs and the lines deepened to a frown. She stepped back. “You're going somewhere?”

Maryam's smile faltered. This was a strange question for someone who'd come to see them off. She turned to Ruth.

Ruth's normally friendly, open face was tense and closed. She sidled closer to Maryam, her voice shaking with anger. “She came because she thought you were going to die.”