I ate my dinner in silence. It was the best one we’d had in days—wild asparagus and scallions with lentils and chunks of roasted rabbit.

  After eating, Kadesh rose to leave for the city. “I haven’t seen the queen since my caravan passed through here last year. I hope she recognizes me,” he added dryly, touching the scar on his face and adjusting his eye patch.

  I glanced at the filthy hem of my cloak and the dirt under my fingernails, grateful I didn’t have to meet her. I hadn’t had a true bath since the river at the Fountain of the Red Sea.

  “Jayden,” Kadesh said. “I hope to introduce you tomorrow before we leave again.”

  “I’d be mortified to appear at all. I have nothing but ragged dresses.”

  “When we marry, she’ll be at the top of the guest list. For now, stay here and rest, my princess of Sariba.”

  “I’m not a princess yet.” I lowered my voice. “Is it pessimism to fear there are forces that are still going to try and stop our union?”

  “I promise there’s no one who can stop us from uniting in marriage.”

  Asher stepped around the campfire, an odd look crossing his face. The two young men gazed at each other, unspoken words passing between them.

  Why did I keep getting the feeling there was an unknown threat still ahead of me in the land of Sariba? Something or someone who would stop us from marrying?

  And it wasn’t necessarily Horeb.

  My grandmother had also alluded to it with her warning of the powerful Goddess cult.

  I’d hoped we’d be leaving the Goddess temples behind with Tadmur, Mari, the cities of Babylon, and the land of Canaan, but it was a foolish hope. Idolatry had spread to every people and every city; there was nowhere to hide from the influence of Ba’al and Ashtoreth.

  Now I had to worry about a goddess in Sariba that lured its citizens to partake of the illicit activities. My grandmother only knew gossip and rumors, but there had been real fear in her eyes when she spoke of the Goddess in the mysterious southern lands.

  Forces would try to pull me away from the life I loved. Or from Kadesh, to whom I’d vowed to devote myself.

  I’d already stood up to the High Priestess Armana, fought her, and challenged her. I could do it again.

  But there was something bigger than the Sariba goddess lying in wait for me. Another woman who would fight me for Kadesh. A girl who had a royal claim to the boy I desperately loved. A girl who would destroy me to win Kadesh back.

  18

  Stars pricked the sky like silver pins when Kadesh set out for the palace. My father followed me about camp. He watched me cook, sharpened his knife, lost in his own private thoughts. Chemish urged him to sit at his campfire, but my father pleaded fatigue and retired early. Exhaustion from the journey was winning out over other distractions.

  Kadesh’s family relationship with the powerful Queen of Sheba was a soothing balm. We were safer here with the Sheba army than out on the desert, alone. Tonight I didn’t have to fear an attack when I fell asleep.

  Soon after the evening meal a servant arrived from the city with a handwritten letter. Asher read the message and came toward me. “Kadesh says the queen has summoned you to the palace.”

  I glanced at my shabby clothes and soot-smudged hands. “I couldn’t possibly meet the queen like this. Tell them I can’t—”

  “Kadesh sent his assurances. I’m to take you straight there.”

  I plucked at my appearance while we walked. I was ashamed to go to the palace so bedraggled and fought the urge to turn around and run back to the campsite.

  Inside the golden gates, hundreds of citizens crowded the wide avenues. Shops and restaurants rose up on both sides of every road. Families and couples mingled, others walked home from work or tried to strike last-minute bargains as shopkeepers closed for the day.

  We passed an outdoor theater ablaze with lights. I could hear actors on a stage, the audience laughing. Such a strange sight.

  The city of Ma’rib was completely unlike Mari under siege last summer with its wary citizens and Babylonian soldiers on every corner. The palace sat on an expansive grassy knoll, lamps burning in every window. The architecture reminded me of a crumbling old castle we’d passed on the road into Sa’ba.

  I’d day-dreamed about what it would be like to live there, its dark empty windows filled with warm yellow lamps. Kadesh and I would be perfectly content away from the insanity of the world around us. Safe to raise our family and dote on our children.

  Now I stared up at the palatial bastion of the Queen of Sheba, sick to my stomach.

  Lanterns were strung along manicured pathways. Perfectly tended gardens exploded in a profusion of blossoming color in late spring. Giant palm trees spread their wings of green in carefully planned rows. Cushioned chairs had been arranged under small canopies for citizens or dignitaries to engage in conversation along the walks that paralleled shimmering ponds. A fountain shot sparkles of water into the night air, turning various colors of the rainbow under the lanterns.

  “Do you like it?” Asher asked, close at my elbow.

  “I’m speechless at such loveliness.”

  A moment later, Kadesh strode toward us on the paved walk. His cloak swirled about his legs and my stomach jumped at the magnificent sight of his bearing. “Are you finished with your meeting?” I asked when he greeted me.

  “I received a message when I checked in with the secretary of state. My appointment time is between the first and second watch of the night. But,” Kadesh glanced up from the note. “The queen requested the presence of the girl of Nephish.”

  “How does she know about me?”

  “I mentioned you to her myself. When I notified her we had left Tadmur and were on our way back home.”

  Kadesh corresponding with queens who ruled powerful kingdoms was a life I knew nothing about. “Have we—have I—done something wrong?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “She just wants to meet the girl I love. She’s sending one of her maids to fetch you at the east doors. Asher, will you escort Jayden there while I go back to the receiving room foyer to wait? And then you can return to camp. We should have scouts arriving tonight. If they get to camp before I do, please send them to Chemish.”

  At the mention of scouts, my palms turned clammy. I both yearned for and feared the days when the Edomite scouts returned with news of Horeb’s location.

  Kadesh bent down to kiss my palms, and then lifted his head to look into my eyes. “The palace maid will turn you from a dusty traveler into the princess you already are.”

  Asher held out a hand to direct me to the eastern doors. “This way, my lady.”

  We’d barely passed the fountain when Laban appeared at the corner where two paths met. He nodded at Asher, and his mouth cracked into a smile filled with bad teeth. I sucked in my breath, my skin crawling. It still bothered me he was on this long journey—even if he was a ruthless soldier known for his skill in a battle. I suppose if the man ever managed to kill Horeb he’d rise in my estimation.

  “What’s he doing in the city?” I said to Asher. “How did he know I was here?”

  “He didn’t know; it’s a coincidence, I’m sure. He has an assignment to purchase supplies for the animals,” Asher said, moving ahead on the path while I slowed. Realizing I wasn’t at his side any longer, the boy turned. “I have a list to give him that Chemish prepared.”

  Servants and palace guards brushed past me while I watched Asher speaking with Laban. But hadn’t the young man told me Laban couldn’t read?

  A few moments later, he ended his conversation and returned to my side. My voice was edged in sharpness. “Don’t give me silly excuses about letters and food supply lists. What are you really writing for Laban?”

  Asher cast a glance downward. “If you must know, we have an envoy of spies following Horeb’s armies. We report on our location and plans going forward. They’re helping to protect us, my lady. Protect you. Which I do gladly. And”—he gave me a sheepi
sh smile—“Laban can slip in and out of places like a shadow. He knows these towns and cities well. We’re in good hands.”

  I chewed on my lip, staring at him. “If you say so, I’ll trust Laban then.”

  At that moment a young girl appeared. With a curtsy, she murmured a greeting in an accent reminiscent of Kadesh’s. “My name is Zara. I’ve been instructed to take you to see the queen. Please follow me.”

  I didn’t obey, but glued my feet to the ground. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  “My lady?” Confusion flitted across Zara’s face.

  “What’s wrong, Jayden?” Asher asked, moving closer while Laban slinked away into the evening’s shadows.

  “Have you looked at me lately?”

  “I look at you every single day.”

  I rolled my eyes and Zara blushed, immersing her attention to the study of her sandals.

  I lowered my voice. “I refuse to meet the Queen of Sheba in a dirty cloak and with grimy feet.”

  “Lady Jayden,” Zara interrupted. “My task is to prepare you for the queen’s receiving room.”

  Before I could speak again, the girl took my arm and whisked me down the path. Zara gave three distinct raps on a door under an awning and we were ushered inside.

  The castle was an explosion of hallways and receiving rooms larger than either of the goddess temples in Tadmur and Mari. Ceilings so high I had to crane my neck to see the intricately carved upper windows.

  Fluted ashlars and pillars crafted to resemble actual granite from Egypt ornamented every corridor. Arched windows decorated with carved grapes and filigree overlooked gardens and shimmering pools. Everything was gold and carnelian, topaz, and amethyst.

  “Come, my lady,” Zara said. “The queen doesn’t normally see people on the last day of the week. She made an exception because the prince is her cousin and you’re only in Ma’rib for one night.”

  She hurried me along floors painted in hues of rose and magenta. The texture was smooth as glass under my rough feet, as if I were walking on pillows of air.

  All at once, Zara pulled me inside a bathing room. The girl’s fingers were deft as she stripped off my dress before I could utter a word of protest. Next, she dunked me into a large square tub of warm water. With expert skill, she scrubbed my skin until it was raw.

  “Your elbows and knees are a disaster,” she murmured under her breath.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, embarrassed at the condition of my body after more than two months on the trail.

  Zara lifted her chin and blinked significantly.

  “I’ve said something wrong.”

  “A lady never apologizes for her state of disarray when she’s been traveling. All of our women and servants—even the queen herself—need much care and grooming after a trip north, or when they travel to Egypt or Nubia. That’s why I’m here.”

  “I’ve never had a personal servant before.”

  I thought Zara was going to faint from shock. “That’s dreadful. They say you are a princess, too.”

  She was appalled, when actually I was only a poor nomadic girl whose father couldn’t even afford a dowry of camels.

  Her eyes lowered. “They say you will be princess of Sariba—and that your betrothed is hunting you in the desert.”

  I let out a choked laugh. “Who are these people who tell you these things?”

  Zara pressed her lips together, focusing on exfoliating the skin along my ankles, where brown dust was embedded in every pore. Next, she washed my hair, lathering and rinsing quickly. The coarse, brittle texture disappeared as she combed out the tangles from weeks of wind and sun. Running a light mixture of rose oil through the strands, she turned my hair into soft, silky strands.

  A knock sounded at the door. “We’re almost ready!” she called as another girl poked her head inside. The girl disappeared and Zara doubled her swiftness, if that was possible.

  Over my head went a gown of flowing brocade. She tightened a silk sash around my middle. “You have a tiny waist,” she observed. “Especially for someone so tall. You’re thin as a flower stalk.”

  “It happens during long treks.”

  “I can only imagine! Never would I want to make that trip.”

  “There are wonderful vistas and mountains and oceans to be seen,” I said, wistful for my deserts.

  Zara led me to a dressing table next. Brushes, jeweled clips, and a smattering of face creams and makeup lay in a wide array. She proceeded to apply a delicate cream to my chapped skin and sunburned nose. “Take some with you. You’ll need to apply this to your face for the rest of your life to preserve your stunning looks.”

  “The word stunning is much too strong,” I contradicted.

  Zara lifted an eyebrow. “Just wait until you look in the mirror. Now hold still.” She applied fresh kohl and a lavender color that actually glittered to my eyelids, then a touch of rouge to my cheeks. Last, she brushed out my hair in strokes to speed its drying, fluffing out the ends. Expertly, she created a twisted pile of curls, fastening it all in place with amethyst clips. Tendrils of hair floated along my neck.

  Sitting there brought back a wave of memories when Leila helped me with my hair and makeup on the night of my betrothal celebration. That was one of the last times we’d giggled and talked about the future, just the two of us, in the back room of Aunt Judith’s tent. I’d called her an Egyptian goddess when she wore a skimpy skirt and jewels in her navel. It was the first night I’d danced before the women of my tribe. The night I’d felt the power of myself, and the glory our Mother Goddess had given us at creation.

  I missed Leila’s sauciness, her daring, and the sisterhood that tied us together, even if we were a continent apart. When we saw each other again I hoped our hearts would still be knitted together. That we could begin a new future.

  “Come, it’s past time!” Zara commanded, snapping me out of my nostalgic reverie. “But first, look at yourself.”

  She led me to a bank of mirrors under the high, arched windows. I didn’t recognize the girl looking back at me. The transformation was incredible. My face had a lustrous glow, my eyes were larger and darker than ever, and the gown was exquisite. Zara had done my hair in true elegance. The amethyst stones made a stunning replacement for my usual clips of bone.

  “Now hurry!” Zara grabbed my hand as I slipped my feet into gold sandals.

  The royal receiving rooms weren’t far from the dressing rooms. Strategically located for travelers fresh from the desert.

  To approach the throne room, Zara escorted me through a courtyard. Painted tile floors lay beneath my feet, warm from the day’s heat. Massive columns rose in archways overhead.

  A guard opened a set of double doors overlaid with ivory panels.

  Zara whispered, “Good luck, Lady Jayden!”

  She ran lightly down the hall. I reached for her, but my fingers only found empty air. “Where are you going?”

  She halted. “You do this part alone.”

  “But—I—”

  She came back to squeeze my hand, and then impetuously leaned in as if to tell me a secret. “I’ve heard the Sariba lands are the most beautiful in all the world. But be careful. Ma’rib gossip says the women are cobras that will eat you alive.”

  I was so astonished I couldn’t even form a reply. In an instant Zara was gone in a flutter of waving fingers and flying dark hair.

  With a deep breath of trepidation, I walked through the door.

  19

  The throne room had paintings along the walls depicting battles from long ago; queens and kings with flanks of soldiers riding home in victory. The carvings in the floor glowed with white irises and drifting rose petals. Rows of columns held up a massive ceiling sculpted in stars and suns and moons.

  Plush velvet chairs and couches lined the walls, but they were empty tonight.

  When I advanced up the center of the room, Kadesh was already standing before the dais. He wore a gold-threaded tunic and his hair hung loosely about his shou
lders. His cloak was missing, which struck me oddly since I’d rarely seen him without it. He looked almost like a stranger, except for his smile.

  His eyes traveled over the dress I was wearing and my hair decorated with jewels. The look in his eyes made me blush. How I wished I could run to him, but I reminded myself to proceed with decorum, holding my head straight so the jewels didn’t fall off.

  I took another step to grasp the hand he held out to me, but a woman’s voice rang out. “Stop where you are. Come no closer.”

  My eyes jerked from Kadesh to an elegant woman sitting above us on the gold throne. Lamps situated on tables about the perimeters of the hall cast shadows of light and dark. The Queen of Sheba wore a gown ten times the worth of mine, the cut impeccable. A gold crown studded with diamonds, emeralds, and rubies perched on top of her head. Strands of pearls looped along the sides of her ebony hair.

  She pointed her chin at me, but directed her words toward Kadesh as though I wasn’t standing right there. “Is this the girl you’ve been telling me about?”

  The abruptness of her manner surprised me. I’d expected to be introduced, not merely referred to like an object.

  “Your Majesty,” Kadesh said with a bow. “May I present the princess of Nephish, Jayden, daughter of Pharez, great-grandson of Ishmael from the family of Abraham.”

  “A fine lineage,” the queen acknowledged stoically. “My great-grandfather once met Abraham and the prophet Melchizedek when they visited the holy city of Salem.”

  There was a brief moment of silence. I didn’t have a clue what I was supposed to do. Except curtsy to her. Which I did, slowly, my head down, legs shaking, ordering myself not to fall on my face.

  The queen and Kadesh were cousins, but she was older by at least ten years. I knew nothing about her family or politics or character.

  “How old are you, daughter of Nephish?” The queen spoke with a serene but detached tone.

  My shaking voice betrayed my nerves. “I’m in my eighteenth year.”

  Pointedly, the queen turned to Kadesh. “What have you done, my cousin?”