Heavens Before (9 page)

Eventually, recovered enough to move, Annah got to
her feet and put on the veil. All the way back to the settlement, she blamed herself for not properly concealing the precious shell carving.
How could I have believed it was safe? I should have known someone would see it eventually. How can I go to the river and face him without the carving? I have to get it back
.

She entered the lodge warily. There was no sign of Yerakh, but she heard voices at the far end of the lodge, behind the taut leather partition where Parah and Iltani stored the dried grains, spices, and roots for cooking. Annah paused and listened. Iltani was actually chattering pleasantly.

“I found this while I was looking for the honey, and I’m so glad! I wanted a sea stone like the one that trader wore last year, but it’s no use asking Yerakh for such a thing. Anyway, this is pretty, isn’t it?”

“As you say,” Parah agreed, noncommittal. “I haven’t seen anyone wearing it in the settlement. You found it in the open? On the path?”

“Didn’t I say so?” Iltani huffed. “Anyway, I’m going to use some of the honey for cakes tonight.”

“Who could have dropped such a thing?” Parah asked, obviously still pondering the shell carving.

“I don’t care who dropped it,” Iltani said defensively. “I found it, so it’s mine.”

Liar
, Annah thought, shutting her eyes. She had no strength to fight Iltani for the shell carving. She would have to bide her time and steal it back.

The sound of water being poured made Annah lick her dry lips. She had eaten no solid food for more than two days; by now she was so hungry that plain water seemed like a feast.

“Come here,” Parah called out. “Annah, come here.” Realizing that her mother had sensed her presence,
Annah lifted the veil from her face. Eyes lowered, she crept past the taut leather partition and knelt on the mat near her mother, like a trained creature.

She felt her mother’s impassive scrutiny, then heard her sigh and turn away, apparently giving her attention to an assortment of spices, flavoring pastes, and grains she had gathered on the tray before her. Iltani’s opened leaf-packet of honeycomb lay beside the tray, and Annah’s discarded grass bag was beside the mat.

I’ll get it later, when Iltani’s not looking
, Annah decided.
Now, however, I need some water. I’m dying of thirst
.

As Annah was thinking this, she heard her mother pouring water into a wooden cup and carefully setting the small clay water jug down on the tray.

“What are you doing? ” Iltani demanded. “That’s mine! I gathered that honeycomb, you didn’t.”

“And I gathered the last store of honeycomb, which you ate,” Parah responded, wearily. “You can part with one piece.”

“To sweeten water for that creature?”

“She needs nourishment, Iltani. She’s missed at least a full day’s worth of meals. Have you ever missed a meal in your life?”

“Are you saying that I eat too much?” said Iltani, her voice rising dangerously. “Next you will say that I don’t deserve your son!”

Setting the cup down before Annah, Parah said, “I meant no offense, Iltani. And I know Yerakh does not admire women who are too thin. Now, if you aren’t going to clean those sweet-bean pods, give them to me.”

“Well,” Iltani said, still irate, “from what I hear, Tseb-iy likes his women to be thin. And young.”

“We will not talk of Tseb-iy,” Parah answered quietly.
She began to split the long, dark sweet-bean pods with her thumbnails.

Annah sipped her honeyed water unobtrusively, casting quick, sidelong glances at her mother’s hands. Parah was too busy, too intent upon her work. She looked tired. Bloodless.

Iltani sighed—a sweetly false sigh of concern—and scooped some dried grain from a deep storage basket. “Oh, I’ve upset you, I’ma. Don’t worry; I won’t mention Tseb-iy again. I’m sure you realize that he was the worst sort of man for you.”

Parah dropped the split sweet-bean into the small clay pitcher of water. Later, it would be boiled, cooled, mixed with Iltani’s precious honey, and added to finely crushed wheat to make cakes for their evening meal. Choosing another bean, Parah split it carefully, as if the task were more important than Tseb-iy.

“He has not abandoned me, Iltani, but I won’t discuss him with you or anyone else.” Parah stood, holding her tray of food. “These two beans should be enough to flavor your honey cakes. Now, I’m taking this water into the other room to boil it over the fire. If you wish, you may bring out the wheat, and I’ll help you grind it. But I warn you: Any more of your little sighs and words about Tseb-iy, and I’ll tear all the hair from your head for being so disrespectful to the mother of your husband.”

“I was not being disrespectful,” Iltani protested. Carrying her bowl of grain, she followed Parah. Passing Annah, Iltani aimed a kick in her direction. “Move!”

Annah cringed. She wanted to follow Iltani to keep watch over her precious shell carving, but decided it would be wiser to remain in the storage area. She had to finish her water and rest. Alone now, she retrieved her
grass bag. Satisfied with this small victory, she covered herself with her veil and cautiously stretched out on the mat.

Closing her eyes, she remembered him, her beloved. He had been so enraged by her bruises this morning that she was terrified. But it was good to know that he longed to protect her. She was also glad Yerakh had not witnessed her beloved’s rage; Yerakh would have found some way to challenge the young man and kill him—and Annah.

How do you know of Yerakh?
Annah wondered to the young man.
Have you met him before? Did you meet my father?
Pondering these things, Annah drifted into sleep. Her dreams shifted between visions of her beloved, the river, the shell carving, the Tree of Havah, and Iltani’s gloating, honeyed smile.

Suddenly Yerakh’s voice intruded, bellowing, “Answer me! Who gave this to you?”

“I found it!” Iltani screeched in response. “If you want the truth, I found it on the creature. She was wearing it.”

Fully awake now, Annah huddled on the mat. Yerakh was in the main room of the lodge with Iltani. But if he came after her in the storage room, she could not escape. She trembled, listening for his footsteps. Instead, she heard the sound of a slap, flesh against flesh. Iltani screamed. Then something small and light struck the taut leather partition of the storage room.

Annah could hear Iltani scuffling with Yerakh, crying, “I’ve done nothing wrong! Ah … I swear to you, the creature had it!”

“Liar!” Yerakh cried. Annah winced, hearing him slap Iltani’s face again. “No man in this settlement would give that creature such an ornament. They won’t even touch
her; they know she’s mad. Who gave this to you?”

Iltani sucked in a breath, whining, “Let me go. Ask your mother. She’ll tell you.”

Feeling a bit safer now, Annah crept over to the partition and peeked around its carved wooden frame. Yerakh was gripping Iltani’s long, gold-decked braid of hair with one hand, while his other hand was poised to slap her again. But at the mention of his mother, he glared at Parah.

“She said she found it,” Parah said, neither defending nor condemning Iltani.

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” Iltani protested again, tearful. “You shouldn’t punish me; I’m not the one who’s bearing Tseb-iy’s child!”

Hearing this, Annah clutched at the partition frame in horror. Parah gasped and fled through the open front doorway of the lodge. In a renewed fury, Yerakh ran after her. Iltani followed them, fearful but eager.

She wants to see Yerakh beating I’ma
, Annah thought, sickened. She started to go after her mother when a pale gleam caught her eye: The shell carving lay on the earthen floor beside the partition. Elated, Annah picked it up and kissed it. She would bind it inside her grass bag to hide it from the others. Now, however, she had to find her mother. Wrapping herself in her veil, she tucked the precious ornament into her grass bag, then slipped out the back of the lodge.

Six

“I’MA!” HABURAH called, entering the lodge. Silent, Annah retreated into the shadows, watching her sister prowl through the storage area, then the sleeping area, then Yerakh’s forbidden workroom. Unable to find Parah, Haburah sat down to wait in front of the fire. As she waited, she reached for one of the honey cakes that Annah had baked on the hearthstones.

Seeing Annah, Haburah sniffed disdainfully. “It’s useless to ask you anything. I doubt if you know where you are.”

Annah lowered her veiled head and picked the last bits of dough from her fingernails. Parah had not returned after the confrontation with Yerakh, nor had Yerakh or Iltani. Annah had eaten some dough to sustain herself, then finished making the honey cakes. She had also hidden her precious shell carving inside her grass bag, binding it
into the same pouch that had held the gold amulet for so many years.

Now she waited silently for her mother to return. Even the appearance of Yerakh and Iltani would be a relief. She wondered if they had killed each other. As Annah’s fears grew, even Haburah’s indifferent presence seemed comforting.

But why should I care if you are here?
Annah wondered, furtively studying Haburah’s elegant profile.
You have never loved me, Haburah. Even before Yerakh murdered our father, you barely acknowledged my existence. I was a nuisance to you then, and now you detest me completely
.

Haburah ate another cake, then began to pace restlessly about the lodge, flexing her slender fingers. When Gammad entered the lodge, she snatched him by the arm, her black eyes glittering in the firelight. “Where are the others? No one is here!”

“How should I know? I’ve just come in from the fields. They don’t answer to me.” Shrugging her off, Gammad sat by the hearth and helped himself to the cakes.

“Ayalah’s not here—she went off to find K’nan after we penned the sheep,” Haburah said. “As for Chathath, he does as he pleases. But I’ma should be here. None of the other food has been cooked, just the cakes. It’s not like I’ma to leave her work tray out. Something has happened; I feel it.”

“You worry too much,” Gammad told her brusquely, snatching another cake and breaking it between his fingers. “You also talk too much. They are probably all out visiting. Now leave me alone.”

“Ox!” Haburah turned away from him, infuriated, and Annah stifled an impulse to smile. Gammad—broad, thick-muscled, and onerous—did resemble an ox.

A sharp whistle outside made them all look to the front entry of the lodge. Only one person whistled in that pitch: Chathath. He leaned inside the lodge, his mouth twisting sardonically. “We’ve been summoned to the lodge of our dearest friend, Naham the Bone-breaker—or do I mean the Iron-breaker?”

“Is I’ma there?” Haburah demanded.

Chathath shrugged carelessly. “Come see for yourself. But our presence is commanded, along with everyone else in the settlement.”

Gammad scowled and stood, snarling, “Who gave Naham the authority to order us to come to him?”

“Are you going to fight him, brother-slave?” Chathath retorted. “He can beat you to dust with one fist.” Pausing significantly, he added, “Tseb-iy is there.”

Gammad rose and followed Chathath, and Haburah accompanied them reluctantly. Still hiding in the shadows, Annah hesitated. She longed to be sure her mother was safe. She also wanted to hear the others at this gathering—particularly Tseb-iy. But the memory of Naham’s fingers creeping into her hair and caressing her neck made her shudder. What if he saw her and renewed his demand? Yerakh had no reason to protect her, apart from his own greed; perhaps he would give her as a peace offering.

If Yerakh gives me to Naham, I’ll run away
, Annah decided.
But how will I know if he decides such a thing? I have to hear what is said at this meeting
. Clutching her veil, Annah took her bag and some of the honey cakes, then slipped out the back of the lodge. The air was calm. The roseate daytime sky was giving way to the rich violet hues of night. The stars and the moon appeared now, glowing enchantingly, all whites, pinks, yellows, and blues. Annah paused to rest
and look up at the stars, almost forgetting her physical pain and her fear for her mother.

If I did believe in the Most High
, Annah thought,
I would believe because of the stars and the moon. How can they be so beautiful without the hand of a master craftsman? They are like jewels
.

Annah walked slowly between the lodges of the settlement. All of them were similar: woven split-reed lattice and grass walls, with wooden uprights framing the doors and grass-covered roofs open at the top to release the smoke of the evening fires. However, the lodge of Naham was the largest, to accommodate his imposing height.

Annah crept around the side of Naham’s lodge and knelt on the hard earth near a lattice window. She could see the inhabitants of the settlement crowded into the main room. Naham sat on a thick heap of grass mats and hides in front of the carefully banked evening fire, his fearfully large body slouching, relaxed and comfortable. His two wives, remarkably alike, sat to his right. Both were slender, silent, and unmoving, their dark hair braided down their backs, fastened with only a few miserly gold talismans each.

Glancing behind them, Annah caught her breath. Parah was there, looking tired but uninjured. She was staring into the crowd gathered before Naham. Annah followed her mother’s gaze across the crackling fire to Tseb-iy. He was completely at ease, laughing in the firelight, his teeth gleaming, his thick black hair falling over his shoulders.

He was surrounded by the other smooth-shaven, unmarried men of the settlement. Seated among them was K’nan, Ayalah’s beloved, a well-built young man with deep-set eyes and a petulant lower lip. He looked bored, rolling his eyes upward as his companions talked and joked with Tseb-iy.

Look at all of you, so proud and pleased with yourselves
, Anna thought.
Not one of you is as honorable and handsome as the man who loves me. Not even you, Tseb-iy
. Her gaze narrowing, Annah watched Tseb-iy. He never once looked at Parah.
He doesn’t love her
, Annah realized, feeling a sudden pang.
He loves no one but himself. And, I think he and all his friends are hoping to make Yerakh angry—they’re mocking him
.