Heavens Before (6 page)

Choosing a honey-sweet golden-fleshed variety her father had always loved, she tossed her veil back against her shoulders, plucked one of the fat, soft-skinned fruits, and ate it quickly. Discarding the large, ruddy brown pit, she wiped the juice off her fingers, then picked more. She filled her woven-grass bag with the fruit, covered her head with her veil again, and started back to the lodge.

To her horror, Annah saw Yerakh and the formidable Naham at the entrance. Had they feasted all night without sleeping? They sensed her presence and turned immediately, staring at her.

I’ll go to the back entry
, Annah thought, ducking her head to appear as meek as possible. Her heart thumped uncomfortably. Edging away, she cast a wary, sidelong glance toward them through her veil.

Naham gave her a jeering, nasty look and approached
her, swaggering arrogantly. If she ran from him, Annah knew both men would take offense. She stood still, her head bowed.

“Little veiled one,” Naham crooned, maliciously sociable. “Out so early? Have you been visiting your lover?”

As he laughed at his own wit, Annah began to sweat beneath her veil. His tone, his nearness, and his questions were unnerving her. Yerakh ambled up, his footsteps reluctant, like a man who wanted nothing more than sleep.

Sneering, Naham spoke to Yerakh. “Could she possibly have lovers, as the other women of your lodge do?”

“She’s like a piece of wood,” Yerakh muttered, obviously choosing to ignore Naham’s gibe. “How can she have lovers?”

Naham grunted. “True. You know, this veil she wears outdoors has always disturbed me. Will she go mad if I remove it?”

“See for yourself,” Yerakh answered.

Hearing his careless reply, Annah trembled inwardly. He would not speak for her or defend her in any way. Naham pulled at her veil, laughing softly. Annah kept her eyes lowered. Trying to control her fear, she concentrated on slowing her breathing. Naham dropped the veil; Annah felt it swish past her legs to the ground.

“She hasn’t gone mad yet,” Naham said. He was staring hard at her, Annah could tell. All her senses were screaming in alarm.

I’m going to run
, she told herself.
I don’t care if Yerakh beats me later
. But even as she thought this, she felt the pull of Naham’s huge hand gliding down her hair, then edging in until his powerful fingers stroked the back of her neck.

“You know, Yerakh,” Naham said, thoughtful now, “I’ve always wondered how you endure the women of
your household. Troublemakers, all of them. But this one’s different. Give her to me.”

Yerakh snorted in disbelief. “To marry? She has no marriage portion. And you wouldn’t want her after the first night anyway. I doubt your wives would want her around either.”

Naham had taken three wives during his two kentums of life. His first wife was dead by his own hands. His two remaining wives were barren, embittered women.

“Oh, I’m not asking you to give her a marriage portion,” Naham replied, still stroking Annah’s hair, making her shudder in uncontrolled loathing. “It’s well known how wretched your women are, Yerakh; you’ve kept them all without marriage portions or property of their own. I’m just asking you, as your friend—your only true friend—to give me this creature for a night. Just one night.”

Annah stomach churned. She would vomit if she couldn’t escape soon. Naham’s touch repulsed her; his huge, brutish fingers, now clasping the back of her neck and her head, terrified her. She was barely half Naham’s height. He could kill her with a swat of his hand. She would die if he took her for one night—or for any time at all.

Please, Yerakh
, she thought desperately,
tell him no!

When he finally spoke, Yerakh sounded exasperated. “Why do you want her? You know she has no spirit; as I said, she’s like a piece of wood. Even so … I agree … for one night. But if she dies, or returns to my household unable to do her work—or if she’s bearing a child—then you’ll pay me half a flock, or one whole field.”

Naham sputtered, clearly offended. “What? Half a flock? Or one of my good fields! For this no-wit creature?
She’s not worth that!”

“She works with the gold—” Yerakh began, but Naham interrupted him, his voice booming as he flung Annah toward her brother.

“This is insulting! I’m your friend, and you demand things of me that you don’t require of others. You should be fair, Yerakh. You should speak to K’nan before he gives Ayalah a full belly. Then you should beat Tseb-iy for everything he’s done with your mother. As for Haburah—I asked your mother ten years ago to give Haburah to me as my second wife. Parah refused because she knew you would refuse.

“You don’t want to part with any of your father’s lands—not even for your sisters. And you’re the richest man in the settlement! I didn’t challenge you then because we’ve been friends, but if you reject any more men who ask for the women of your household, Yerakh, they’ll all turn against you! Remember, I’ve warned you!”

Yerakh did not respond. If goaded beyond endurance, Naham could easily crush even Yerakh to death.

Thrusting one broad finger at Annah to emphasize his words, Naham added, “The only reason I asked for this creature is because I thought you wouldn’t care. She has no value. No other man in the settlement will have her.” Naham was leaving now, but he bellowed so loudly that the entire settlement could hear. “She’s afflicted! You should have strangled her too, Yerakh!”

Keeping her face blank, her eyes lowered, Annah reached down carefully, trying not to spill the afals from her grass bag as she rescued her veil. She could hear Yerakh’s breathing, harsh, deep, and fast. The sound frightened her. All over her body, inside and out, her skin seemed to be crawling, tingling with fear. Just as the urge
to run seized her, Yerakh snatched a large handful of her hair and hauled her inside the lodge.

He had barely pulled her past the carved doorpost when Annah felt his first blow to her stomach. It knocked all the breath from her body and doubled her over, causing her to fall to the earthen floor, defenseless. The afals in her grass bag spilled and rolled everywhere.

Yerakh continued to hammer her with his big fists, uttering incoherent, throaty cries of rage until Annah was aware of nothing but pain….

Four

UNABLE TO catch her breath long enough to scream, Annah curled up into a tight, quivering ball.

When Yerakh stopped using his fists, he kicked her back and legs, striking the most vicious blows with his heel. Then abruptly he left her and stomped through the lodge, roaring, “Ayalah! Bring your mother to me, Ayalah! Iltani, where are you? If you’re hiding from me, I’ll kill you! Haburah, come here!”

Terrified, Annah lay curled up on the earthen floor. It hurt to breathe. She could taste blood in her mouth, and she could feel her lips swelling. Her left jaw and cheekbone felt hot. And her precious shell carving had slipped out of its hiding place within her tunic. Furtively moving one hand, she tugged at it. The cord held.

She almost sighed with relief, but her ribs hurt too badly to take a full breath. Slowly, painfully, she tucked
the shell carving into the neckline of her leather tunic. Then, tears of hurt seeping out from beneath her eyelids, she waited, listening for Yerakh.

He went out the back of the lodge, and she could hear him screaming, “Iltani! Haburah! Ayalah! Don’t make me come after you! If I find you, I’ll kill you!”

They’ve all run away
, Annah realized.
And if he doesn’t find them, he will come back here to wait until they return. But if he beats me any more, I’ll probably die. I must get away
.

Moving weakly, she pushed herself to her feet, clutching her grass bag and veil as if they could save her from additional harm. Stumbling outside, she turned away from the settlement and headed for the river. She would hide in the lush leaf-shrouded trees and rest there. At nightfall, however, she would have to return to the lodge. Her fear of being caught outside in the dark was greater than her fear of another beating.

Her fear was not due to the darkness or to the creatures of the night, but because of feast-goers such as Naham and Yerakh—and because of the Serpent-Lovers, in particular, the Nachash. If any of them found her alone in the darkness, they would probably abuse her, then kill her.

By the time she reached the trees near the river, Annah was shaking from pain and fright. Suppose Yerakh were to come after her? Or worse, what if Naham decided to ignore Yerakh’s demands and take her anyway? Fearfully, she watched the settlement. Perhaps Yerakh was still searching for her mother and sisters.
I hope they’ve managed to escape
.

Intent on escape herself, Annah crept into the deep green vines, fronds, and cloak-sized leaves of the undergrowth. Feeling safer, she leaned against a tree trunk and
slowly eased her way down into the sanctuary of the leaves. The very act of sitting brought tears to her eyes.
I can’t stay here
, she realized.
Sitting on the ground hurts too much. But I have to rest. And I’m thirsty
.

Groping inside her woven bag, Annah found one of the afals. There were only two left out of the heap she had gathered, and they were sadly bruised and crushed.
Like me
, she told herself ruefully.

Her jaw was so swollen that she had to break the fruit into tiny bits and push them between her teeth to swallow them. Slowly she ate them both, then pulled herself to her feet. She needed poultices for her wounds, but she was too weak to gather any herbs and pound them out.

All I can do is to soak myself in the river. Was I really there this morning? Impossible. I must have dreamed that I was happy
.

She limped upriver to a sheltered, sandy inlet where the women of the settlement gathered occasionally to soak their garments and fleeces, and to bathe themselves and their children. Today, however, the inlet was deserted. Annah relaxed, grateful. She had feared some of the children might be playing in the water. The children were vicious, pampered creatures, preying on anyone they perceived as different, which she was. They usually threw rocks at her, forcing her away. She would not have been able to run from them today; the pain was too overwhelming.

Moving stiffly, Annah settled onto the inclined bank, scooting far enough into the water to cover her body without submerging her head. The water did ease her pain. She crammed her veil into her grass bag to make a pillow for herself, then leaned back and shut her eyes. The sound and the feel of the lapping water soothed her. She also sensed the fish hovering gently nearby, not
touching her, but lingering, as if they understood her misery. Comforted, Annah slipped out of consciousness.

Voices woke her. Opening her eyes, she recognized Parah’s feet and those of Iltani, Haburah, and Ayalah. They were standing behind Parah, the water barely edging their brown toes. Annah didn’t have to see their faces to know they were angry with her. Their annoyance showed in their crossed arms, or their hands on their hips, and she felt them watching her.

Why are you angry with me? Naham’s the one who provoked Yerakh! And obviously, you’ve all escaped beatings. You don’t have bruises. You aren’t struggling to breathe. But you’re just waiting for me to prove I can stand and walk, so you won’t feel guilty for abandoning me
.

Annah sat up, catching her breath at the pain. She wondered if she could stand at all. She felt shaky. Her ribs, her legs, her arms, and her jaw all ached and pounded miserably.

“Well, she’s alive,” said Iltani, her voice scornful.

“Ugh, look at her jaw.” Ayalah sounded squeamish. “It’s puffed out like a frog’s. Almost the same color too. If we hadn’t run, Yerakh would’ve beaten us the same way.”

“He will catch us eventually,” Haburah said, shifting from foot to foot. She was restless, angry. Her voice lowered conspiratorially. “We should find Yerakh before he finds us, and we should kill him.”

Annah listened, appalled. Would Haburah really kill him? Could any of them—including herself—actually lift weapons against Yerakh? To cover her fear, Annah practiced her vacant stare, gazing at the sparkling, swift-flowing
water.

“How?” Ayalah asked. Her lilting voice dared Haburah to act on her brave, impulsive words. “How would you kill him?”

“I said
we!
” Haburah retorted. “We will kill Yerakh. If you’re too frightened, child, we could get Chathath and Gammad to help us.”

“You sound as if you would actually do it!” Iltani burst out shrilly. “This is my husband you want to kill! Why do you say these things in front of me?”

“You should hear them,” Haburah answered coldly. “You’ve been married to him for five years now, and you’ve given not one hint of bearing him a child. I’d wager every hair on my head that he’s going to discard you soon and marry someone else. No man will have you after that. I say you should strike him first.”

“Why aren’t you saying anything, O mother of my husband!” Iltani demanded of Parah. “Are you too frightened to stand with me? Or do you really want your son to die so you’ll be free to marry that seducer, Tseb-iy?”