“Ignore the gossip. They mean no harm. Sariba doesn’t get travelers from faraway lands very often.”
I gripped Shay’s reins tighter, trying to shake off what had just happened. Those men. Their black ominous eyes. “I understand their curiosity. Me, a lone woman with an army of a hundred Edomite men. I’m also aware the people of Sariba could easily deem me not worthy of Kadesh.”
“They’ll accept you. And they will love you. How could they not?”
“Please don’t say these things,” I whispered, grateful when my father rode up on my left and reached for my hand.
He gave me a sideways smile when I gripped his palm. “The Nephish tribe must stick together. Even in a land of beauty and peace.”
Once the Edomites and camels had lined up along the outer staircase, my father helped me dismount. We stood with the rest of the crowd while Sariba guards, in distinctive uniforms of black and magenta, held in formation along the palace doors and gates.
“My beloved friends and fellow citizens,” Kadesh called out in a loud voice. “How glad I am to be home!”
The roar in response to his words was deafening, quickly followed by laughter, cheers, and thunderous clapping. A single, explosive blast from one of the trumpets pierced the night, capturing the emotions of the Sariba citizens. Lights consumed the darkness. The Qara Mountains disappeared with the sunset. Giant shadows behind us. Pockets of deep gloom where the jungle grew. Where tranquil lakes lay motionless under the stars.
“King Ephrem and I will reunite after more than a year,” Kadesh went on. “You will hear stories of dangerous journeys. Life-threatening, but our Edomite brothers saved my life. Our Dedan forts are strong. And . . .” He paused. “There is glad news to come.”
His eyes sought out my face, and I gave a sharp intake of breath. Kadesh was referring to me.
Nerves hummed along my arms. Murmurs and speculation filled the air. Kadesh made no mention of an approaching army. He clearly didn’t want to alarm them. It was the moment to celebrate the heir’s return, but Horeb’s presence loomed. Just beyond my sight. As if he’d be grinning wickedly at me if I glanced over my shoulder. How much time did we have before his army showed up on the western horizon?
“For now, my companions and I must rest, but during this week, we’ll celebrate and rejoice in the blessings of our land.” Kadesh turned and the palace stable boys began to lead the horses away for grooming and feeding. My camel was taken in another direction and it felt odd not to have her halter in my hand after so many months.
I ascended the palace stairs gripping my father’s arm. When we stepped through the doors a brilliant foyer opened up, on fire with another hundred hanging lamps and wall sconces.
A lightheaded sensation swept over me. This was a palace not of stone and imported marble, but of magnificent tents. A hundred times bigger than anything I could have imagined. Panels of finely finished goat hair hung on stout wooden frames set into the earth and lashed together in resplendent canopies.
Ceilings twenty feet high. Carpets created from intricate designs and colors. The foyer was an enormous square, halls and corridors breaking off at intervals. Ivory-inlaid mahogany and cedar tables from Lebanon sat next to artfully arranged sofas. Golden lamps adorned the tables, and chandeliers lit by innumerable candles hung over our heads.
Male servants and maids were everywhere, leading us to our various rooms. I said good night to my father. “Will there be food?” I asked, trying to pry a smile from his tired face.
He lifted an eyebrow, his old humor returning for a brief moment. “I think they’ll feed us.”
Two young girls scurried around me, eager to lead me to my room, but I stood still, gazing into my father’s face. We were in a place and time I could never have imagined when my mother died.
“It’s a new world, Jayden,” my father said. “Your mother and grandmother would be in awe to see such magnificence.”
I wished I could erase the melancholy in his eyes. “A new life,” I whispered. “And a new beginning for all of us.”
My father gazed over my shoulder in the direction of the western desert where the sun had fallen through the skies. Fatigue dug grooves into his face. He would never say it, but he couldn’t live here permanently. He was a man of the desert. It was in his blood, his soul, so deep it could never be separated from the person he was.
I wondered the same about myself. Could I live in a palace my entire life—even a palace created in the structure of a magnificent tent? Already the throngs of citizens, servants, and guards were giving me claustrophobia. I could only imagine how much worse it was for my father, a man who cherished his freedom and the open land above all else.
He kissed my forehead. “Sleep well, my girl.”
I was thoroughly lost by the time the servant girls maneuvered several turns. Finally, we entered a short alcove-like hallway and the older girl pushed open a door leading into a suite of rooms. My knees buckled at the sight of so much comfort and charm.
“You must be tired,” the girl said, holding me up by the elbow.
I was too busy staring. Painted, billowing panels swooped upward into an arch, forming a square in the center of the ceiling. A chandelier hanging at the top of the arch was crafted of burnished bronze with decorative holes and pinpricks formed into flowers and tamarisk trees. The lit candles inside superimposed a bright yellow pattern on the bedroom’s walls.
Wide windows banked the wall on my left. Gardens glowed under lamplight on the outside pathway. When I walked over to peek through the window, a crescent moon shone among the stars in the night sky.
Farther down the garden paths stood palace guards, garbed in the same rich brown patterned cloak Kadesh had been wearing when I first saw him on the cliff at my mother’s grave. Ferocious swords hung from their belts.
Luxurious carpets pillowed under my feet. I noted fine glass ornaments, an inlaid writing table, and a cushioned chair just my size. I was tempted to drop myself into the chair and sleep for a week, but one of the girls gently guided me away.
“Not yet,” she said. “We will bathe and dress you for sleeping.”
We passed a wide bed sitting high off the floor. I reached out to touch the velvety mattress. Beautiful gold and russet linens were sewn in the same manner as Kadesh’s rich cloak. Pillows and bolsters lay in an inviting arrangement on the bed. No more hard-packed earth with ants, spiders, and scorpions to keep at bay.
“I’m Tijah,” the girl told me, grasping my hand in a gesture of welcome. I pictured my mother doing the same to a foreign visitor.
The second girl, a bit younger than Tijah, had gone ahead of us into the adjoining room. I could hear the splash of water. A set of small steps was decorated with a pattern of white-and-magenta tiles. A fireplace was set into the wall and the back of the hearth arched with more tiles. Orange coals burned in the grate. I was surprised to see a fire inside a home when summer’s burning temperatures were upon us. But I was comfortable, not overly warm.
“The mountains and ocean cool Sariba at night,” Tijah explained. “You’ll want your blankets to sleep.”
I stifled a yawn and wondered where Kadesh was. He’d been swept away after his speech. No doubt to greet his family. Uncle Ephrem hadn’t attended the welcome party, but I was too sleepy to wonder what Sariba royal protocol rules were.
Tijah led me to the adjoining bathroom where a tub filled with water from a gold faucet came straight through the floor and tent walls.
“What strange miracle is this?” I asked.
“The Kingdom of Sariba—like that of Sheba and Egypt—is sophisticated and complex,” Tijah answered. “We have running water in the palace compound.”
She helped me undress while the other girl tested the water with her wrist. She added a handful of pink granules and frothy white bubbles began to form.
“Water is brought through clay pipes directly here to all the main rooms,” Tijah went on. “We have cisterns and aqueducts that fill from the
streams in the mountains. Our brother does pipe works. He’s currently studying to be an engineer at the king’s university.”
“Then you two are sisters,” I said, noting the resemblance. They both had the same wavy bangs cut across their foreheads. The same small chins and slight frames. I was taller than both of them. “What’s your name” I asked Tijah’s sister.
The girl didn’t look up when I spoke, focusing on laying out beautiful sponges and choosing from a stack of thick towels.
Tijah leaned close. “Her name is Jasmine. She was born without hearing or speech. My brother, Timothy and I, care for her. Prince Kadesh allows many people of Sariba with physical or mental impairments to work in the palace or on the grounds.”
A longing for Kadesh’s gentle love rose up, searing my belly with fire. Already I missed him terribly. “But I’m here at last,” I whispered. Kadesh and I would marry soon. Just as the Queen of Sheba had instructed. And Horeb’s army would be conquered.
I imagined endless days exploring the mystical mountains. Swimming and fishing in their streams and lakes. Walking the splendor of a magical, new world. Raising children together, just as I’d dreamed. After all the heartache, God had finally granted us a measure of peace. All would be perfect when I found Leila. I’d bring her here to the palace and enlist Kadesh’s help in finding her a good man to wed. Perhaps even a nobleman’s son.
A soberness fell over me knowing the roads to Egypt were also filled with dangers. She was in a foreign land, and completely alone. Would she survive the harsh journey? Or was her corpse somewhere on the Egyptian deserts? What sort of men had kidnapped her? Her life might now be worse than one as a temple priestess.
I tried to throw off a thousand fears, but they lurked in the corners of my mind, like rats.
“Will you please dim the lights?” I asked, fully aware of my body’s scars in the eyes of the two young girls. I was self-conscious and didn’t want to engender questions.
Tijah looked perplexed, but she motioned to her sister to douse a few of the candles.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered.
“My lady, you don’t need to explain or apologize. I’m here to serve you.”
Tijah helped me into the tub and kneeled to scrub my back and neck. The warm water was like silk, soft as a rose petal.
“I’m just an ordinary girl like you,” I told her.
Tijah vehemently shook her head. “They say you are a great lady. A princess of your tribe. And a warrior, too.”
I was disconcerted. “I’ve only been here a few hours and already I have a reputation?”
“The people of Sariba know everyone’s business,” Tijah confessed without shame.
Her statement reminded me of the women’s world of my own tribe. The familiar relationships we had. Our intimate ties bound us together. They made us feel safe in a world of trials and hardships. But not any longer. Never again with the Tribe of Nephish. And how many true friendships could I cultivate as the queen of Sariba?
I kept the upper half of my body submerged under the soapy bubbles while Tijah sponged my legs and toes. “Are you well, Lady Jayden?” she asked.
It was my turn to frown. “Yes, of course, I’m fine.”
“You’ve been hurt,” the girl observed, lightly touching the long white scar along my neck.
I gripped the edge of the bathtub. I didn’t want my mutilated body to become society talk.
“Your secret is safe with me. I’m sure a warrior girl who travels the deserts would have scars.”
“Yes,” I agreed carefully.
“I’ll make you a salve of my mother’s herbs, including myrrh and frankincense. Freshly harvested frankincense will fade those scars.”
I glanced up to see Jasmine hanging up my cloak. “Please be careful!” I called out. “I have—I have a weapon inside. I don’t want her to get hurt.”
Tijah flicked her eyes toward her sister. Unspoken words passed between them. The dagger was brought forth and placed in a locked case Jasmine produced from one of the wardrobes. My sword and sheath had been laid on top of one of the bureaus, high out of reach.
“Your dress will need to be burned,” Tijah told me.
“It used to be my mother’s. . . .” I pressed my palms against my eyes, not wanting to give it up. I had no other keepsakes of hers. No clothing or jewelry or alabaster box.
“It’s filthy and beyond repair.” Tijah bit her lips, noting my expression. Softly she added, “We have a closet full of gowns for you.”
I nodded without speaking as she set to work washing my hair, then rinsed it using urns of fresh, warm water Jasmine handed her. After toweling dry, I was dressed in a nightgown created from layers of magenta-and-gold satin. Tijah combed out my hair while Jasmine cleaned the bathtub.
The dressing table had a beautiful array of brushes and powders and a large burnished mirror. I caught Tijah’s eyes as she rubbed ointment into my hair to rid the mess of its dry, broken tangles.
“My lady, tell us about your family. Have you no one other than your father?”
“I have two sisters I’m searching for. My younger sister was sold to a couple without children. I found her in the city of Mari, but they wouldn’t give her to me—even though the prince of Sariba offered them wealth untold.”
A crease formed above Tijah’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“And I have an older sister named Leila. All I know is she was taken to Egypt. From the Temple of Ashtoreth in Tadmur.”
“I’ve never heard of these cities you name.”
The pit of my stomach ached. “How often do you get visitors here?”
“Almost never. We’re so isolated. The return of Prince Kadesh with his company—and you—are the first in a year.”
I tasted a bitter bite at the back of my throat.
“Tell me more about your sister, my lady.”
“She’s slim with long black hair. She’s lovely and funny and temperamental. An Egyptian goddess when she dances. But her constitution is delicate. She becomes ill on long journeys.”
“No wonder you’re worried.”
“I tried to bring her with us, but I was too late.”
“Why did your sister go to the Temple of Ashtoreth? Girls in good families stay away.” She stopped, holding a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry, my lady, I didn’t mean to imply—”
“You’re right, Tijah. My sister was lured there after my mother died.” There were several moments of silence and then I said, “Today, as we walked into the city, I saw two strange men in the crowd. It almost seemed as though they were watching me particularly.”
“What did they look like?”
“White tunics, black robes. Bald heads and staffs. Dressed so differently from the other men here.”
She frowned. “We do get a few foreigners now and then. Those men you describe sound like the magicians who arrived here a few months ago. Guests of the goddess temple of Sariba.”
“Magicians!” I exclaimed. “For the temple?” The words of my grandmother Seraiah came back with force.
“They create potions for healing or charms. And they speak incantations to make their magic work. A girl in my neighborhood bought a potion for a man she’s in love with. I thought it was silly, but they can make things happen . . .” Her voice trailed away as she focused on getting me ready for bed.
“How do they do that?” I asked. “How do they get their power?”
“Egypt, of course. That’s where all magic comes from. And in Egypt when you speak a spell or a prayer, it becomes so. Just saying the words, or speaking someone’s name as part of the incantation, is powerful. The words fly straight up to the gods. When a magician or a sorcerer creates a magic chant for you, or tends to you when you’re sick, then your hope or wish or healing comes true.”
I desperately wanted to lie down. “What are they doing here so far from home?”
I remembered how the men had stared at me, had raised their staff and bowed to me. I almost confided
in the girl, but stopped myself. This young maid wouldn’t know.
Tijah glanced at her sister, who was wiping water from the floor in the bathing area.
“Is there a Temple of Ashtoreth here?” I asked. Seraiah had spoken of Egyptian sorcerers and healers, and now I knew they existed right here in the frankincense lands. Egyptians had taken Leila across the western route to that strange and magical country where the people worshipped an entire pantheon of gods. Perhaps those Egyptian men could help me find her. If I had the nerve to approach them.
“No, the magicians are with the Temple of Sariba. They give the girls of the temple some sort of special drink, which makes them forget their names and their families. Any girl who joins the Temple of Sariba becomes a servant of the powerful Goddess for the rest of her life. She dedicates her life to worshiping her, sustaining her, and demonstrating complete obedience.”
“And what does perfect obedience entail?”
“Please don’t ask me anything else—I don’t know!”
I reached out to grasp her hand. Her fingers were small, the nails worn from servitude. “Tijah,” I said. “Are you afraid of the temple? Do you know someone there?”
The girl made a choking sound. “I can’t, no, I don’t know anyone. I’ve never gone there. I don’t want to. Please don’t make me!”
I was stunned by the force of her emotion.
“The Goddess is powerful,” Tijah whispered. “She can hypnotize you into doing things.”
“Nonsense,” I said, but my words didn’t seem to comfort her. “I promise you don’t have to go there, or live there, or even visit.”
“Promises can be broken,” she said with desolation.
23
I studied the two sisters while Tijah brought me a plate of dinner. Jasmine set a pitcher of cold water and a goblet of wine on the table beside the bed. Tijah appeared to be her happy self again, but her outburst bothered me. She was afraid of something, but didn’t want to tell me.
I drank the entire pitcher of water, but I could only nibble at the bread. My stomach was too empty and I was afraid I’d be ill if I ate any of the rich food.