Forbidden

  There was a pang in my chest, knowing how plain I was without my jewelry. How bare my neck felt—how empty my ears and wrists! My fingers hovered over a particularly sheer indigo piece of silk. I pictured myself wearing it, the material slipping over my shoulders, my thick hair falling down my bare back, the shadow of Kadesh hovering close by.

  When I raised my head again, Aunt Judith was watching me as I stared at the wedding finery. “When you marry Horeb, you will have so many jewels and dresses, you won’t be able to pack them when it’s time to move.”

  Hakak giggled and pulled me next to her, whispering, “As soon as my wedding is finished, we need to start on your trousseau. We can spend the rest of the summer sewing—and you can marry Horeb before we leave for the winter grazing.”

  Aunt Judith brushed a hand against my cheek. “I will stand in for your mother, dear Jayden. You needn’t worry about being without a mother to watch out for you and help you plan all the details. Timnath and Hakak and Falail can all cut fabric and sew, too.”

  I smiled wanly, but no words would leave my throat.

  “You know every girl is envious of you,” Hakak added. “Even if he is my brother, I have to admit that he turned out to be quite gorgeous.”

  “No one can deny that,” I agreed lightly as I rose to my feet. “I actually need to find Leila now.”

  “She and Falail are inseparable,” Judith mused, threading a needle to sew the ivory beads to the wedding gown. “I believe they’ve gone to visit my sister’s home. With Hakak’s wedding, I think Falail feels neglected.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was actually true. The two girls had sneaked off to the tamarisk groves at our last winter camping spot, and now here at the oasis they were disappearing more often than ever. Perhaps this was Leila’s way of grieving for our mother. Or searching for a way to escape the desert life.

  “They’re probably flirting with potential husbands,” Hakak said.

  “I suppose I can’t do that, can I?” I added jokingly.

  “You’d break my brother’s heart!”

  “Not to mention this old mother’s heart,” Aunt Judith said as she jabbed her needle into the white linen.

  I kissed Hakak and Judith good-bye, then slipped out the door, heading for the far side of the pond. A thick forest of trees grew beyond that, closer to Tadmur, but less than an hour’s walk. The meadow forest was probably deserted, but I had to know for myself that Leila wasn’t there.

  The murmur of men’s voices sitting around hearth fires floated on the still air. I ducked my head as I passed the women’s back-door entrances at several tents, not wanting anyone to recognize me and call out. It would be rude not to stop, and I didn’t want to sip tea and chat tonight.

  Cool grasses tickled my feet. The earth was heavy and lush here. In fact, the water from the oasis underground springs was so deep and clear and fresh I could kneel at its edge and drink straight from it. Ahead, I could see the black hulking shapes of willows, tamarisks, and date palms.

  I walked on, getting closer to the groves of palms and olive trees. My stomach fluttered with anticipation, wondering what I’d find. An empty forest—or my sister?

  It wasn’t long before I heard the sound of laughter, faint music, and mysterious singing. Leaves rustled overhead, mimicking the sound of chattering women, as if the forest was trying to bewitch me.

  The sound of a drum came next, and a few steps farther on, a small clearing came into view. I stopped, grabbing the trunk of the nearest tamarisk. Girls I didn’t recognize formed a circle, holding hands. Trees grew tall and close together, keeping the women hidden from view, like many-armed sentinels guarding them.

  The girls wore flowing silk dresses with low necklines and no sleeves. Bare legs twirled. Under the moon’s silver light, their arms appeared ethereal and ghostlike.

  The color of their costumes became a translucent gossamer, but underneath the flimsy, sheer dresses, the contours of their figures and bodies could clearly be seen. I shivered at the sight. The clothing was completely different from the modest dress of the desert women. It was shameful for them to be dressed so provocatively, but it was also thrilling and beautiful, and I felt the same stirring in my body that I’d felt the night of my betrothal ceremony.

  And then I saw Leila. My sister stood out, her dancing dramatic and passionate, her beauty unmatched. Falail was next to her, and I watched the silvery material of her dress flow like water about her bare legs.

  The girls stepped to the right, then to the left, sweeping their arms like silent snakes. Their feet were so light it looked as though they barely touched the ground, as if at any moment they might float off into the stars.

  Hips and thighs quivered as they performed staccato hip thrusts, their fingers fluttering through the air like raindrops drizzling to the earth.

  One by one the girls took turns in the center to perform. I found myself sinking to the earth, unable to tear my eyes away. I wanted one of those dresses. I wanted its sensuous delicacy against my skin, reminding me of the silks spread out for Hakak’s trousseau. I wanted to adorn myself in one of those lovely gowns and dance for Kadesh in our very own private tent.

  My sister stepped to the center, and the other girls trilled their enthusiasm. Soon Falail joined her and the two of them danced together, mirroring each other. The drumming grew louder and wilder. As the tempo increased, Leila and Falail shook their hips in isolated tremors. My sister raised her arms above her head, closing her eyes in the attitude of prayer.

  My breath left me. Leila’s silhouette looked just like the wooden idol hidden in the camel litter weeks ago.

  Now the entire circle shimmied in the final beats of the drums. The singing became a haunting, mesmerizing chanting in my heart and my bones, deep under the earth below my feet. It took every ounce of willpower I had to stop myself from running across the grass and dancing with them.

  When the drums struck a last powerful thrum, low and deep like a mountain lion growling from within the earth, every girl dropped to the ground, flinging her long hair across the grass in a vision of color and breathlessness.

  That’s when I noticed a peculiar flat stone lying in the middle of the meadow. The girls had been dancing around it all this time. I’d been so entranced by their dresses and flying hair and shimmying moves I hadn’t paid any attention.

  My jaw dropped as I realized the stone was an altar of worship, and on the altar stood the wooden statue Leila had with her on our journey north.

  Most disturbing of all, lying next to the statue of the naked, dancing woman was my mother’s alabaster wedding box. The sight of it was like a punch in the stomach. So that’s where Leila had hidden the statue all this time. My mother’s most precious possession lying on a stone idol altar. A knot of anger and confusion rose in my stomach. I imagined our mother devastated, weeping if she knew. “How could you, Leila?” I whispered into the night air.

  Before I could move, my sister rose from the grass and approached the altar. Reverently, she picked up the statue. Holding the figure up to the moon, Leila twirled on tiptoe, then lowered her arms and pulled the statue close to her heart.

  The rest of the girls giggled as Leila dropped back onto the grass. She passed the idol to the girl next to her and while the drumming and singing continued, the statue went from hand to hand around the circle.

  My face was hot as I lowered my head. This went against everything I’d been taught my whole life.

  The drums gave a final beat, echoing back from the trees as the girls rolled onto their backs, giggling and chattering. The murmuring voices were an intimate sound, and I was lonelier than ever. I wanted my sister. I wanted girlfriends, I wanted to be part of them, but if I wore a dress such as these girls wore and danced and prayed as they were doing I would be betraying all that my mother had taught me.

  A lone owl hooted overhead, emphasizing the melancholy that swooped through me. Careful not to stir the leaves under my feet, I began to back away.

 
Unfortunately, this life was what my sister wanted. Even if it meant deserting me and her family. Leila leaving the tribe was terrifying and inevitable, but I needed her help when it came to Horeb, and I needed her to stand up for me when I talked to my father. Without her, I was completely alone in this world. Fate had given us a blow when we’d lost my mother to death. I couldn’t lose my sister to the temple, too.

  The darkness closed around me as I returned back through the forest. The breezes lifted my hair and cooled my neck, and I wondered about the life that I wanted, despite my desire to be loyal to my parents and tribe. But what would I risk to get it?

  Tripping over roots and stones in the high grasses, I kept my eyes on the distant hearth fires so that I wouldn’t get lost. Somewhere in front of me was the pond of water, and I hoped I didn’t fall headlong into it.

  I listened for the sound of the stream, but all I could hear was my own heavy breathing—or someone else breathing behind me.

  The next instant I was facedown on the ground.

  A dozen arms held me; legs ran circles around me. Soft giggles floated on the air.

  “Leave me alone! Let me go,” I demanded, just as a girl clapped a hand across my mouth.

  Leila stood over me. “You were spying on us! You sneaked through the trees to watch us.”

  “You should have been home hours ago,” I told her, pushing the hands off of me.

  Falail came into view, her long, black hair in waves over her shoulders. “We were safe enough. My mother thinks we’re at the tent of Asa.”

  “Now you’re lying to your own mother?” I asked her.

  “You’re so predictable, Jayden,” Leila said, kneeling on the grass beside me. “Do you plan on spilling all our secrets to our parents?”

  “Why were you dancing here in the trees?”

  Gasps of indignation fluttered like moths.

  Another girl came closer, older than the rest. “Next time, do you want to dance with us?”

  “Who are you?”

  She was annoyingly serene. “I’m Esther. Though our clans may be different, we still belong to the same tribe—the tribe of women.”

  “But your dresses—you shouldn’t be wearing such flimsy fabric.”

  The girls laughed at me and I felt silly and prudish. Like I’d turned into an old grandmother when I was only sixteen.

  “Dancing with your friends in the moonlight is not immodest,” Esther said. “Where else are we going to practice? During the summer months, the tents are always open to catch the breezes. Tribesmen and children constantly walking by all day. There’s no privacy at camp, but here we can do whatever we want, wear what we want. We can wear the style of dresses that we’ll adorn when we marry and dance for our husbands.”

  Esther had a point. It probably was more modest for the girls to dance at night in the tree-filled meadow, away from prying eyes and the men around their hearths.

  “Jayden,” Leila said. “The dancing that Esther teaches us is no different from the women coming to our tent to dance for womanhood or marriage.”

  “But you wear almost nothing!”

  Leila laughed.

  “Who’s watching but only ourselves?”

  “And spies like Jayden,” Falail added, poking her finger into my arm. The girls’ laughter trembled in the night air.

  Their words made me feel completely silly. “I wasn’t spying!”

  “Oh, but you were,” Esther said. “You were also enchanted by the moves and wondered if you could dance with us.”

  She was so smug I wanted to pull her hair out. The circle of girls’ eyes glittered under the moonlight. They discerned that I wasn’t being completely truthful. And they were right. I had wondered what it would be like to dance unhindered by long dresses and sleeves. I imagined what it would be like to perform hip drops wearing only a layer of fine silk between my skin and the warm night air, and I shivered just considering it.

  But the purple and silvery dresses I’d seen them wearing had disappeared. The girls were wearing their normal clothing once again.

  “Where are the dresses you were just wearing?”

  Falail lifted the hem of her cloak and I could see the shimmering silkiness hidden underneath.

  “Promise you won’t tell the rest of the women about our dancing out here,” Falail said.

  “No,” Leila interrupted. “A promise is not good enough.”

  “You’re right,” agreed Esther.

  I studied her, wondering why I’d never noticed her in the tribe before. Esther was at an age where she should have already been married, and wives had no time for dancing in the groves with girlfriends. There were babies to tend, work enough to keep a woman weary so that she dropped into bed each night.

  Kneeling down, the girl took my hand in hers. Her fingers were surprisingly cool and soft. I tried to pull back, but she didn’t let go. “We’ll let you return home when you swear an oath that you won’t reveal the secrets of the grove.”

  “That’s just silly,” I said.

  “Would you want your clansmen to learn about us and hide in the trees to watch?”

  “Of course not,” I said quietly.

  “There’s no rule that we have to dance only with our mothers and grandmothers,” another girl called out.

  Esther’s expression became contemplative. “The freedom and moonlight of the groves is ideal, but perhaps we need to find a place that is even more private. Like the caves in the hillsides closer to Tadmur.”

  “We should post guards,” someone else said. “We don’t want our fathers and brothers to come looking and find us.”

  A chorus of voices began to discuss where it was safest to dance.

  “No more talking, girls,” Esther said at last, but her eyes were on me. “It’s for your own protection that you keep what you’ve seen tonight to yourself.”

  “It’s settled, then.” I pulled my ankles free from the hands that were keeping me pinned to the ground, and lifted my chin.

  “Can we trust her?” someone asked.

  “Of course we can,” Esther said firmly. “She knows there are consequences if she doesn’t keep our secret.”

  “And what will the consequences be?” Falail asked.

  The other girls moved in closer, wanting to know what Esther would say, and that’s when I realized that there was no formal oath of secrecy; they were only trying to protect themselves. But Esther was formidable and daunting.

  “One day I’ll take you to visit the Temple of Ashtoreth in Tadmur and watch the priestesses dance. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before.”

  “Don’t tell them that!” I told the older girl.

  She smiled. “Why? Are you afraid?”

  I shrugged, trying not to let her get to me, but I wished I’d left the groves sooner, run faster. “Of course not. But I don’t want to see my sister and cousins disappear into the city and never return.”

  “Even if they will have a better life? An easier life where they’ll never be hungry or cold again?”

  “How would you know?” I asked her. “What is your father’s name? What clan are you?”

  “I’m not part of your tribe at all, Jayden,” Esther said, her perfumed breath on my face. “I’m from Tadmur. I live at the temple.”

  I stared at her, unable to hide my shock. Then I grabbed Leila’s hand. “You knew all along who she was, and never said a word.”

  “Your expression is priceless, Jayden,” Leila said, teasing and laughing.

  Her delight in deceiving me made me go cold. “I feel like I’ve been purposely lied to.”

  “That makes two of us,” Leila said, reaching out to grip my hand in hers. “I can keep secrets, too.”

  “Why would a girl her age live at the temple? Where is her family?”

  “I have no family anymore,” Esther answered. “My parents are dead, and I’m in training to become a priestess.”

  I swallowed hard. “Leila’s family is not dead,” I said pointedly.
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  “Oh, Jayden.” My sister sighed. “You don’t know anything about the temple or life there or of what you speak.”

  I turned to stare at her. “Do you? Truly?”

  “I know enough, and I will learn more.” My sister at least had the decency to look guilty and as I stepped closer, she backed away. But I wouldn’t let her go. I put my arms around her neck and whispered, “Please don’t leave me. I couldn’t stand it.”

  Leila’s arms tightened. “I’ll just have to take you with me, dear sister.”

  “You know I can’t. Father needs me. And so does Sahmril.”

  Leila let out a choked sob. “Jayden, stop saying that. You know Sahmril is gone forever. You know that. Don’t torture yourself with hope.”

  A flicker of anger flared in my chest. “I will find her.”

  Leila shook her head at me. “You always talk of Father and our sister, but you never mention Horeb.”

  I bit at my lips, pretending to brush off her comment.

  “You don’t want to marry him, do you?”

  I shrugged casually, denying her words. “I don’t want to discuss it right now.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Leila said with a sigh. “I can see right through you, Jayden.”

  “Tonight isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

  “Jayden, I don’t think you will ever understand how I feel about being trapped on the desert. Trapped in a life I don’t want. Wanting to fly away, to dance, to live as a real goddess, not a myth from a thousand years ago. It’s not a dream. You hate your life, you’re stuck with a man you don’t want to marry, and yet you will do it anyway. But I’m going to have the life I want.”

  There was a bitter taste in my throat as we stared at each other.

  Finally, Leila said softly, “I know you don’t love Horeb. You love someone else.”

  “I do not—”

  My sister put her finger to my lips. “I know who it is, and I promise to keep your secret, Jayden, if you keep mine.”

  There was no more denying it, and protests were useless. I chewed on my lips as she gripped my hand, stepping even closer so all I could see were her dark eyes in the moonlight.