Sorrow thudded inside my chest. I would never know my old life and home again. My palms ached to touch the coarse goat-hair walls of my mother’s tent, feel her hands guiding mine with a needle, sense the kiss of her lips on my forehead, hear her voice raised in laughter and song. I’d never chatter with gossip alongside my cousins, Hakak and Falail. Or hold their babies. Or teach our daughters the dances of the women’s world. Never again would I gather wisdom and unconditional love from my grandmother and aunts.
I brushed a fist against my eyes, trying to hide the pangs of loss.
Up ahead, Chemish slapped the reins on his horse’s back while Asher followed him in silence. I’d barely heard the boy speak ten words the past three weeks.
The Edomites rushed forward, kicking up sand. I sat quietly on Shay’s back, feeling my pain and sorrow—and yet a peculiar joy, too.
Kadesh seemed to sense my homesickness. “You’re not alone, Jayden. You and I will face everything together; my family, our future—as well as Horeb’s armies. I promise he can’t hurt us here.”
I wanted to believe him, but I’d heard the words from the Queen of Sheba’s own lips. I’d listened to her fears of elusive enemies and growing armies. A force stronger than King Hammurabi who had conquered the entire eastern lands and rivers.
Was Horeb our true enemy, or only one of many in the strange city of Sariba?
The mountains grew taller when we turned southeast, heading for the coastline away from the desert trail. The camels began to gallop alongside the horses. I smiled at their enthusiasm, their intuition that we were close.
At last we came to a sheer drop of rugged cliffs. Below lay an ocean of spectacular blue. White-capped waves rushed gently onto shore. The faint roar of the water lured me like a siren. I smelled the spray of salt as waves crashed against the rocks. One of the most glorious sights I’d ever seen.
We are here. The city of Sariba had remained a mirage of my dreams for so long I almost couldn’t take it in. We were now more than a month’s travel east of the Red Sea, and two months south of the northern deserts where I’d been born.
The sweat on my brow cooled for the first time in weeks, and the hot wind of the barren desert disappeared like an ill gift tossed into the refuse pile. The ocean’s humid breeze flapped my dress against my ankles, and streamed along my dry cheeks.
“The ocean is called Irreantum,” Kadesh said. “The Sea of Many Waters.” He reached for my hand and held it tight to his lips.
“It’s just as you described.” Affection rushed up my belly. We smiled without speaking, eyes locked, a thousand words unspoken and unneeded.
The pristine beach shaped like a half-moon called to us down below the gorgeous red cliffs. It was almost as though I recognized the waters of the dream I’d had those lonely nights searching for Kadesh in the Edomite land when I didn’t know if he was dead or alive.
Sun-bleached sand spread soft as warm butter, reaching the walled city of Sariba nestled against a bank of low-lying hills. Even from here I could see homes and gardens built in steps along the lower plateaus.
Kadesh pointed straight north from the ocean on our right. “The Qara Mountains border the Empty Sands. I think heaven built this place of bounty for those who survive the desert crossing.”
My eyes soaked up the luscious forests beyond the beach. “Such emerald-green hills. The Garden of Eden created all over again just for us.”
“The frankincense groves grow in the foothills of the mountains,” Kadesh added. “We have farms growing grains and cotton and maize. Orchards of fruit trees.”
My father and Chemish came up behind us, overhearing our conversation. My father looked weary but overwhelmingly relieved, too.
“There’s a freshwater lake in those mountains,” Chemish said. “Streams and gorges and waterfalls.”
“It will take months to explore,” I said softly.
“You have a lifetime to enjoy it,” Kadesh told me.
The camels and horses clambered down the rock path to the beach, not waiting to be led. When it leveled out, Shay galloped with the other camels, her legs long and awkward in the fine sand. Palm trees lined the perimeter of the crescent-shaped coastline. The swath of beach went as far as I could see, enclosed by rock cliffs.
The Edomites whooped and hollered. A few jumped off their horses to splash in the breaking surf. Others crashed straight into the water with their horses, water rising to their bellies.
“Come on, Jayden!” Kadesh said with a wild grin. We broke into a full run, racing each other as we left behind the older Edomites who were dismounting and then falling straight onto the sand to rest, arms wide, eyes closed in bliss.
My heart pulsed with delight. Kadesh turned his camel toward the water and the animal’s head swiveled about as if flabbergasted to be standing knee-deep in the middle of the ocean.
“Go, Shay!” I cried. My camel had seen the beaches along the Red Sea, but we had never gone racing headlong into the waves. Shay lifted her feet carefully, as though the water was distasteful. Finally, she gave me a baleful stare, stepping tentatively like a prissy girl.
The Edomites were swimming and laughing. Their fine Arabian horses ran back and forth along the breakwaters, but I noticed Asher still sitting in his saddle, water splashing up onto his legs while the others frolicked.
After dismounting, my father stared toward the hazy horizon. I caught his eye and waved. He lifted a hand in return, not smiling, but not frowning either. I hoped he could find some peace and rest here.
Kadesh tugged at me. “Come on, let’s swim and cool off.”
I slid off Shay and tumbled into the clear water. “I’ve never swum before.”
“I’ll help you.” He grasped my fingers and walked backward into the waves. My toes skimmed over smooth, tiny pebbles. “If you kick your feet you’ll stay afloat.”
It wasn’t long before the water was up to our waists. Kadesh held his arms under me to keep my buoyant. Releasing my toes, which gripped the sand, I leaned back, gazing up into the blue sky. Strands of clouds hovered like tendrils of white wool.
Kadesh’s shadow blocked the sun from my face. “Now pull your arms down,” he said. “Up and down. Soon you’ll be swimming on your own.”
My fingers rushed through the water as Kadesh moved my body slowly along the rippling water. “It works! But my dress is getting heavy. It’s pulling me under.”
“All you have to do it put your feet down and stand up.”
“But I’ll sink.”
Amusement crossed his lips. “No, you won’t. It’s not that deep.”
My long hair floated all around me on top of the ocean, undulating like seaweed. Finally, I put my feet down and my bare toes sank into the bottom. The water barely came past my thighs. I was perfectly fine. When I laughed at my own silliness, Kadesh pulled me close. His hair was wet and unruly, and the faint scent of salt and frankincense drifted along his skin. He scooped water into his cupped hands and used it to scrub my dirty chin.
“There,” he said. “Now you look presentable to meet King Ephrem.”
I swayed on my feet, each wave pulling and tugging as if trying to swallow me up. “I only need a few lengths of seaweed to decorate my hair.”
“Just the way I like you.” He bent down to kiss me, and I tasted the crisp, clean sea on his mouth.
I murmured against his soft, wet lips, “If you present me to your uncle like this he’ll be convinced you’ve gone mad.”
Our lips parted and we stood quietly, hair dripping, smiling at each other. Kadesh pulled my fingers into his, locking us together. “Want to swim back to shore?”
When I saw the distance my eyes widened. “It’s farther back to the beach than I thought.” My toes dug into the sand to keep my balance, but Kadesh pulled me down into the water so we were crouching underneath the blueness. Setting me on his lap, he turned slowly in a circle. My dress swirled, the water heavy and light at the same time. The sensation was magical and exquisite.
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The sinking sun lowered even more, the orange hue gilding the horseshoe mountains like they’d been painted with real gold.
“I love you, Jayden, daughter of Pharez,” Kadesh said. His voice was quiet and husky while his fingers trailed the curves of my face.
“I love you, too,” I whispered. My heart seemed to grow so large I thought my chest would burst. Our noses touched as we stared into each other’s eyes.
“We’ve been through so much,” Kadesh whispered.
I brushed his wet hair away from the black eye patch that would forever be a part of him, then kissed his scars one by one. “Separation, heartache, scars, and death,” I said softly. “Wonderful and horrible moments both.”
“I’ll never forget how nervous you were when we stood alone in the narrow passage of the Edomite lands a year ago. The day you told me not to speak your name.”
“You were overwhelming, Kadesh, Prince of Sariba.”
“I could feel your heart even then, and I didn’t know why you kept running away from me.”
“I was betrothed—and yet drawn to you. I tried to deny it, but on the night of Hakak’s wedding I couldn’t any longer.”
“Jayden, you are now my betrothed.” I could feel him shaking, vulnerable. This year had been just as hard on him as it had on me. He faced even more difficult things now. King and general. A war to fight, his people to protect.
“Those are the sweetest words of the entire journey,” I told him.
We stayed locked together for several long moments, not wanting to break apart. Not wanting to think about the monumental tasks that still lay ahead.
Kadesh held my hand as we swam back. The breakers grew more shallow and then we crawled up through the final wave, falling onto our backs to stare at a sky twisting with colors of crimson and purple.
Turning on his side to face me, Kadesh traced his finger up the curve of my waist. Then he placed a hand on my hip and brought his face toward mine, tugging away the wet strands of my hair where they’d become plastered to my face. “Jayden,” he murmured, tasting my lips, my tongue.
My arms swept around his neck to hold him, our bodies woven together, legs tangled. I sensed his heart beating in rhythm to mine as though we were already one.
“We’re making a spectacle of ourselves,” Kadesh murmured after a few moments. “A crowd is gathering.”
My eyes flew open.
Horses, camels, and Edomites were walking toward us. I touched Kadesh’s mouth with my damp, salty fingers, wanting to kiss him all night long.
“Get to the city before the gates close!” Chemish shouted, waving an arm.
Kadesh smiled, his long, wet hair falling over my cheeks when we rose to our feet.
My father was on his camel and getting closer. Tufts of sand drifted with each step of the camel’s large, padded feet. Quickly, I made sure my dress was still in place.
My heart squeezed when I spotted an Edomite off by himself—closer to us than the others—but alone. I looked away, trying to pretend I hadn’t seen Asher, his sword and slingshot stuck in his belt. Stoically staring up at the city.
But I knew he’d been watching us.
Kadesh tilted my chin up, sensing my discomfort. “It’s all right, Jayden. They can see we’ve been swimming out in the open. I was only kissing the girl I intend to marry.”
Unfortunately he misunderstood the deeper meaning of my distress. And Asher’s personal torment.
At last we mounted our beasts while Chemish organized the company to enter the city. I might have been cleaner from my swim, but sand now caked my dress and the locks of my hair were clumped together. My appearance was demolished. I tried to run my fingers through the knotted strands and shake the sand from my gown.
A hundred of us were certainly going to make an entrance.
Asher stood quietly to the side. My bodyguard. My sword-fighting teacher. The last few weeks had been awkward between us. I’d felt his shame every time we had to pass along the trail or while in camp.
He cleared his throat to speak. “Remember, my lady, we’ve been on the desert for three months. Nobody expects us to be in our best dress. The servants at the palace will take care of you.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled. Those were the first words he’d spoken directly to me since the night of Laban’s execution.
We were in a new place, and I hoped, a new beginning along with a better understanding between us. Earlier that morning, Kadesh had said he wanted our practice sessions to start up again in earnest so I’d be prepared for Horeb.
Word had spread of the prince of Sariba’s arrival. The gates of the walled city opened with ceremony. Royal guards stood at attention in uniformed lines and official dress. When we passed through the imposing pylons, trumpets blared splendidly. The haunting, lyrical melody was so unlike any I’d heard before, and I knew at once I was a foreigner in a strange land.
A series of deep, guttural drums pounded next. The sound thrummed the soles of my feet, making me homesick for those childhood nights I’d danced with my mother and sister in our tent.
It had been too long since I’d danced; only a few times in the last several months, at Isra’s cave and while camping along the river of the Fountain of the Red Sea. The dance connected me to my mother and sister, and the ancient Mother Goddess who’d given me spirit and life. The music and movements kept me grounded to the earth, to who I was, and to the women of my family who’d come before me—all of whom were now gone. I had no one to show me the way. No one to teach me how to be a wife and mother and woman of faith.
I’d missed those private, prayerful dances during this arduous trek.
The city’s lights shimmered behind my watery eyes. It was as though part of me had died with my mother and my grandmother. Every generation gone but me and Leila.
Kadesh had alluded to the Sariba women who danced, and I was eager to learn more. Perhaps I could once more have a tribe of women in this land. Women I could be a part of and call my family.
A crowd of townspeople had gathered in the twilight: families of all sizes, merchants, tradesmen, innkeepers, and farmers. The Edomite soldiers flanked me on their Arabian steeds. Shay’s bells were tarnished from dirt and sun, her colorful tassels soiled, but she held her head high as we padded past the guards and golden gates. I was proud of her unique and beautiful white fur, a rarity even in the western world where white camels were bred.
Dozens of colorful flags ringed the center square, but the flag of Sariba was the most dramatic. The image of a tree sprouting a myriad of gnarled, twisted branches set against a deep magenta color. The frankincense tree was silhouetted by the halo of the sun on the horizon of the Irreantum Sea.
We entered the plaza accompanied by the blast of trumpets and drums, a packed crowd of citizens following behind.
In the city square, beautiful wells had been built on raised beds of sparkling tile and flowers. Boasting of a never-ending supply of fresh water. Hand-painted tiles ornamented the well lids, including an overhanging shelter to give shade. I’d never seen anything like it, not even in the wealthy city of Mari.
Hanging lamps filled with olive oil were being lit by men with long torches. A wide avenue led directly to the palace and the small orange flames glowed up and down the thoroughfare. Similar lights lined the square. Streets branched off in all directions and the radiating lamps gave the entire city a warm cheerfulness.
“It’s absolutely breathtaking,” I said. “Enchanting.”
“It is magical,” Kadesh agreed as we jostled through the squeeze of people. “I never tire of seeing Sariba at night. Just wait until we enter the palace grounds.”
22
The gates to the royal palace swung wide. Hundreds of the same shimmering lamps on the city streets surrounded the residence. I sucked in my breath at the columned portico entrance—as grand as the city.
Large doors carved in the lush pattern of frankincense trees and lustrous suns gleamed with a warm richness. Ten Edomit
es created a formal horse guard while Kadesh dismounted. His cloak swept behind him when he walked to the top of the glittering stairs. Underneath the porch roof, Kadesh turned to face the city.
The citizens of Sariba went wild. Their lost son had returned. By their cheers and shouts, I knew they loved King Ephrem and his nephew.
But I also heard an undercurrent of voices rising. Whispers of shock at Kadesh’s scarred face, his missing eye. And whispers of me. A girl from a strange land. Someone rescued on the desert? Or a wife of one of the Edomites?
Prickles ran along my neck. I had the distinct feeling someone was watching me.
I glanced about, assuming it was merely the townspeople gossiping behind their hands but suddenly, to my left, a pair of black eyes met mine. The only man standing still in the waving crowd. He wasn’t particularly tall, but cut an imposing figure as though he were larger than anyone else around him. Confidence and a keen, arrogant intelligence exuded from him.
A second man stood just behind his right shoulder. Also staring at me. Both of them wore impressive pleated white linen. Gold belts slung about their waists. Robes of black on their shoulders. Their heads were shaved bald, and small gold hoops pierced their ears.
My heart stopped beating for a moment. Who were these men and why did they stare at me as though they knew me?
When our line of horses and camels began to move down the avenue, the first man gave me a slow smile, inclining his head. He raised an enameled staff to me. The staff bore gold filigree and the head of a falcon with jade for eyes. His bow wasn’t a form of deference; it was instead, rather mocking. A challenge of some kind.
My palms began to sweat.
“Jayden, you’re pale,” Asher said, pulling up aside me.
“I am?” A catch in my throat made it hard to breathe. With Kadesh at the top of the palace entrance and waving to his people, I was glad Asher had noticed my distress and not left me alone to fend for myself.