Crown in the Stars (21 page)

“What do you think of her?” Ghez-ar asked Rab-Mawg.

“We will see,” Rab-Mawg said, pondering the young woman’s reactions during the lesson today. She was—of course—still afraid of him. And he intended to keep her fearful and respectful if she remained in this kingdom—this priestdom. “Let her become used to our presence, and to the temple. Soon we’ll learn her true thoughts and judge her from those.”

“She looked bored during the lessons,” Ebed told them, going toward the smaller room where they slept.

Awkawn snorted contemptuously. “Of course she was bored. She’s female. We weren’t discussing babies, attire, or the preparation of food. Do we have any herbs left, Ghez-ar?”

“Yes, but we’ll need more in a few days.” He retrieved a small leather pouch and opened it to display their dwindling cache of “herbs.”

Rab-Mawg brooded, considering what they would be forced to trade from their own meager supplies to replenish their beer, incense, and the precious herbs and roots. They used these things routinely to induce the euphoria
so critical to understanding the ways of the heavens. The prized euphoria was a benefit that offset their frequent bouts of boredom and frustration.

And Master Ra-Anan was a source of that frustration. The man was enriching himself from goods offered by the people of the Great City and the surrounding tribes—goods that rightfully belonged to the temple and its priests. The Lord Kuwsh and the Lady Sharah were also guilty of this crime, though they had endless resources of their own.

Such guilt must be punished
.

“I’ll keep watch,” Ghez-ar said unnecessarily—it was, after all, his appointed day for temple duty. Rab-Mawg took the pouch from him and went into the small, secluded room where Ebed was kindling fragrant incense within a small clay brazier. When they judged the time to be perfect, Rab-Mawg cast their ration of “herbs” onto the incense. Awkawn closed the curtain securely, and they gathered around the brazier, quieting themselves as they inhaled the precious vapors.

Lulled, Rab-Mawg temporarily abandoned all thoughts of Ra-Anan and the others, giving himself instead to the effects of the sacred smoke and the hope of rest.

Accompanied by Demamah, Shoshannah reluctantly sat in the Lady Sharah’s crowded ceremonial courtyard. She hadn’t been here since the day of her capture. And nothing—not even twilight, a lavish brazier-lit feast, and a cheerful crowd of revelers—could improve this place for her. Nor did their illustrious visitor, Father Elam of the southeastern tribes of the earth.

Shoshannah studied him, thinking,
Elam—-firstborn son of Father Shem and our dear I’ma-Annah—you are not what I would have expected
. He was handsome, of course, with his gleaming black curls, wide dark eyes, and rare smile. But he was also very self-important; he had deliberately waited for a place of honor to be prepared in the feasting area, which must accord him the same level of respect shown to Lord Kuwsh.

However, Lord Kuwsh was hostile. He said nothing to his cousin Elam, though Shoshannah knew from childhood stories that ages ago the two had been raised almost as brothers.

“I’m sure Lord Kuwsh hates Father Elam because of Nimr-Rada’s death,” Shoshannah whispered to Demamah, who was gathering food in a dish.

“Yes,” Demamah replied softly, absorbed in her task. “Listen, we’ll share this—there aren’t enough dishes for everyone. No doubt Mother will complain about how the food has been served. Look at the gold dishes…”

Smiling, Shoshannah looked. Zeva’ah’s lips were a tight line in her beautiful face, and she was unmistakably eyeing the Lady Sharah’s food—served separately from everyone else’s—on gold dishes. Not even Lord Kuwsh, the Lady Achlai, or the celebrated Father Elam were given gold dishes. Adoniyram, too, was drinking from a red clay cup, though he picked at his mother’s food as much as his own.

Demamah nudged Shoshannah. “Try this.” She took a piece of fish like white meat, dabbed it in oil and herbs, and offered it to Shoshannah, who recoiled, suspicious.

“What is it?”

“Crabmeat. Don’t fuss; just take a bite.”

Obedient, Shoshannah chewed, swallowed hastily,
then gulped at a cup of diluted wine. “You can have the rest. I’ll eat bread and fruit.”

“No, you should try other things.” Demamah persisted kindly, offering her oddly cooked vinegar-smelling eggs, bird livers, curdled milk, and smoked fish.

“I think you’ll poison me before Rab-Mawg does,” Shoshannah told her. “I’ll eat some fish, if you will leave me alone.”

“You’re impossible,” Demamah sighed. “Anyway, Adoniyram’s watching you.”

Impatient, Shoshannah took a bite of fish, glanced at Adoniyram, and instantly regretted it; the Lady Sharah saw her and glared.

Lifting one pale jewel-and gold-adorned hand, the Great Lady beckoned her severely.

Shoshannah nearly choked, gulping her fish. “I’m in trouble,” she whispered to Demamah. “What should I do?”

“We’ll go to Father.”

Better him than her
. They stood and hurried past the other seated guests to Ra-Anan, who frowned at them for disturbing his meal. Demamah knelt, whispering to him frantically, begging his advice.

Ra-Anan’s frown deepened. “Demamah, stay with your mother.” Standing, he said to Zeva’ah, “Beloved, I’m going to speak with my sister.”

“Please do!” Zeva’ah snapped, looking thoroughly irritated.

“Shoshannah, stay five paces behind me,” Ra-Anan told her. He strolled over and looked down at Sharah, who had obviously had too much to drink and was now arguing with Adoniyram. Interrupting, Ra-Anan asked, “Did you wish to speak to us, my sister?”

“I wanted to speak to
her.”
Sharah scowled up at Shoshannah. “But now that you’re here, Ra-Anan, I told you she’s not to be honored in any way. Why is she here?”

“Why shouldn’t she be here? She is of our own family.”

“Don’t argue with me; I didn’t invite her!”

Adoniyram said quietly, “Your guests will be upset, Mother. Perhaps we should discuss this later.”

“You shut your mouth!” Sharah told him, so loudly that everyone nearby hushed and stared. “If you think I’ll endure you lecturing me, you’re wrong!”

Adoniyram tensed visibly. “Forgive me. I will remove my offensive self from your presence.” He put down his cup, bounded to his feet, and marched off.

Sharah jumped up and screamed after him, “Don’t you dare come back until you’re ready to apologize!”

Just as he reached the courtyard gate, Adoniyram turned and executed a perfect bow. Sharah threw her gold cup toward him clumsily, splashing her guests instead. Kuwsh straightened, furious, his fine tunic speckled with wine. Beside him, Father Elam stood, clearly offended. Everyone was gasping, whispering, staring.

Shoshannah longed to shrink into nothingness.

Ra-Anan said, “We regret offending you. We will leave at once.”

Sharah confronted him, her face vividly flushed with rage. “You wait! I’m not finished talking to you!”

“You are not talking; you are screaming,” Ra-Anan told her. “And you have upset your guests.”

Sharah waved her hand disdainfully, as if to say,
What do these people matter?
But she lowered her voice to something less than a scream. “Don’t you dare bring her into my presence again unless I command it.”

“As you say, my sister.” Chillingly courteous, Ra-Anan
inclined his head. Turning, he spoke beneath his breath to Shoshannah. “Wait outside with your cousin.”

Shoshannah obeyed swiftly, beckoning Demamah as she hurried toward the courtyard gate, passing the curious guards. With Demamah grasping her sleeve, they slipped into a shadowed area to the left beside the outer wall.

“That was horrible,” Shoshannah said, leaning against the wall, feeling her heart thud. “I never imagined anyone could be so rude.”

“She’s usually more restrained in public.” Demamah sounded shaken.

Footsteps echoed to their left now, and the girls turned warily.

“I thought I heard your voices,” Adoniyram said from the darkness. He drew nearer to Shoshannah, stealthily clasping her wrist. “Forgive me for leaving; did she strike you?”

Shoshannah shook her head. “No, I… am well. Thank you.” She wished he would let go of her wrist before Demamah noticed. He did, but with a lingering, caressing gesture that seemed too intimate. Shoshannah quickly stepped away, facing him. “Master Ra-Anan told us to wait here.”

“I’ll wait with you until he appears.”

“Thank you,” Demamah sighed.

Don’t thank him
, Shoshannah thought. She felt Adoniyram staring at her. To her relief, Ra-Anan emerged from the gate, guiding the indignant Zeva’ah. And, against all customs and courtesies, Father Elam, the banquet’s guest of honor, followed them.

“Since you are my host for the week, Ra-Anan, I’ll leave with you,” Elam said. He nodded stiffly toward Adoniyram. “I hope you are well.”

“Perfectly,” Adoniyram agreed courteously. Turning to Ra-Anan, he said, “Master-Uncle, I’d prefer to sleep on your floor tonight. Otherwise, my Lady-Mother will invade my household and ensure that I regret my behavior.”

“Of course,” Ra-Anan said. They began to walk together through the streets, which were lit here and there by window lamps. “But when it is safe, Adoniyram, we
must
warn your mother that she has just offended all of the most powerful men in the Great City. And from beyond.”

Ra-Anan sounded regretful. But, somehow, watching him stride calmly ahead, Shoshannah sensed that her uncle was pleased. As if he had hoped… no,
intended
for her unwelcome presence to create a conflict.

He knew this would happen. And Sharah will hate me all the more
.

Now Adoniyram was walking beside Shoshannah in the darkness. If he were any closer, he would be touching her again. Shoshannah edged away from him, distressed, praying he would leave her alone. If Kaleb were here, he would dump Adoniyram into the nearest waste pit.

And get himself killed… She hastily banished the thought.

Eleven

BLEARY FROM A SLEEPLESS night, Shoshannah stood in Ra-Anan’s gloomy courtyard, shivering as she waited for Demamah and the beginning of Father Elam’s hunting party. At least the cold air would keep her awake. Puddles of water had collected wherever the paving bricks were uneven, and a drizzling mist lingered, reminding her sadly of the mountains and her family.

Adoniyram emerged from the house alone, studied the gray sky, then sauntered over to Shoshannah, pleased.

“I’m glad we left the banquet when we did; I’m sure the rain ruined whatever my mother didn’t. She’s probably furious.”

“Will you need to avoid her for a few days?” Shoshannah asked, glancing up at him reluctantly.

“Perhaps longer.” He leaned toward her with a warm, appealing smile. “Will you be glad if I stay here?”

“You are welcomed, of course,” she said crisply. She had dreaded seeing him this morning—so much that the anxiety had cost her sleep. And yet, seeing him now—being alone with him—she could almost hear Mithqah arguing,
Admit it: He’s handsome
.

Inwardly, Shoshannah argued in return,
Yes, he is handsome, but he’s also a proud, presuming, deluded Son-of-Heaven lord
.

Unconcerned by her aloofness, and clearly expecting her to be grateful, Adoniyram said, “I’ve sent for your weapons; you should use them this morning.”

“Thank you, Cousin, but my hand and wrist protectors were burned with the rest of my hunting gear, so I can’t use the weapons.”

“We will find something for you. Though your wrists are… exceptionally delicate,” he murmured.

“Adoniyram, please, I don’t want to offend you, but I also don’t want you teasing me like this. It’s unfair and improper, and you know it.”

Immediately, his expression became set, cool. “Very well, I’ll leave you alone for now. But listen to me: Whether you use them or not, your weapons will be given to you this morning. You must return them to me at the end of the hunt. Otherwise they might be seized and burned.”