Banished (Forbidden)

  The two girls helped me into the softest bed I’d ever spent a night in. Fine cotton sheets were smooth as satin against my arms and feet. Three months of knots in my neck and shoulders had eased after the hot bath.

  My stomach had stopped rumbling with hunger, but my mind was in turmoil. Now that I was here I needed to use the connections of the royal family to learn where Leila was and bring her here.

  Tijah brought me a hot herbal drink. “Sleep, Lady Jayden. You’re exhausted from the journey. Distraught over your sister.” Pulling a chair close, the girl smoothed my hair with her gentle fingers, reminding me of the times Leila and I soothed each other to sleep in the camel litter. “Don’t torture yourself. We’ll figure something out with the help of the palace government. Perhaps Aliyah can help us.”

  “Who’s Aliyah?” I murmured.

  “The grand princess. She’s the most beautiful woman in all of Sariba. And as a royal princess she has connections to the Temple of Sariba, which means she may be able to find out where she was taken in Egypt.”

  The room grew fuzzy. My head slid down my pillow when the herbal drink took effect. I didn’t want to talk to anyone at any temple. I didn’t trust the High Priestesses, not in Tadmur, and not here. “Kadesh, I want Kadesh, I need to talk to him. I need him.”

  Tijah glanced at her sister. An odd look passed between them. I wondered if Jasmine could read my lips. If she understood more of our conversations than she let on.

  “I suppose,” Tijah said, choosing her words carefully, “after three months on the trail you became on more personal terms with the prince of Sariba. He is Prince Kadesh. As an outsider, we advise you to use his title.”

  My heart dropped to the perfect, hand-painted tiled floor. The servant girls didn’t realize who I was. “Nobody has told you who I am?” A queer sense of betrayal came over me.

  “Of course we know. You are Princess Jayden, of the Nephish. There was a bounty on your head, and our prince saved you from death.”

  “But—but—” My words slurred. “Will you please send Kadesh a message?”

  The sisters glanced at each other again. “That isn’t proper, my lady, while a guest of the palace. You need to wait until he summons you himself.” Tijah motioned to Jasmine and the two girls scurried away.

  “Kadesh and I . . . we’re . . .” I tried one last time, but the splendor of the suite of rooms faded away, and I went into a dreamless sleep.

  When I awoke, I had no idea what time it was. The bedroom had acquired a strange grayness, as if storm clouds hovered across the sloped ceiling.

  My tongue felt thick, my mouth dry as a bone. Instinctively, I knew I’d been asleep for a very long time.

  Untouched meals sat on the table next to the bed. Cold soup, drinks with settled dregs on the bottom, and stale, herbed bread on a ceramic platter painted with the emblem of the palace.

  I pushed myself up on one elbow. Bit by bit pieces of the previous night returned. The fanfare of our welcome to Sariba, and the servant girls who had taken care of me.

  I swung my legs over the bed. When I tried to rise I wobbled like a newborn camel. Rubbing at a crick in my neck, I took slow steps through the splendid room, staring at the wondrous draperies and furniture. Not a speck of dust lay on the handsome tables with their intricately carved wood and armrests.

  A hint of perfume lingered in the air. Perhaps it was the frankincense salve Tijah had rubbed on my scars. My head ached like I’d been ill. More likely exhaustion.

  Had Kadesh come to see me? I wondered if Tijah would have allowed him entrance. It was odd the girls didn’t know about our relationship. Perhaps Kadesh was waiting to make a formal announcement. First, he had to make arrangements with his uncle to sign the papers of our marriage covenant. Then he could sound the trumpets and proclaim our love to the world.

  Becoming more awake by the minute, I realized I was ravenous. The magenta-and-gold nightgown swished around my ankles as I strode to the window. Flinging back the curtains, I saw a gray mist shrouding the world. Leaning on the open ledge, I peered down the paths in both directions, unable to see past the edge of the palace. It was as though the world had disappeared. No mountains to the north. No sky above me. Billowing clouds lowered upon the city, enveloping everything.

  The mist glazed my arms with moisture. I shut the drapes again, impatient.

  “You’re awake!” Tijah exclaimed, bustling in the door.

  “I feel like I’m still dreaming. I can’t see a thing through the windows.”

  “That’s the fog. We get much more fog and drizzle here in the Qara Mountains than the deserts.”

  “I can’t tell whether it’s morning or—”

  “Late afternoon. You’ve slept almost round the clock for two days. We need to get you dressed for dinner.”

  I sank into one of the cushioned chairs, trying to take in that I’d been asleep for nearly two days. “I don’t own any finery or jewels for a palace dinner.”

  Tijah motioned Jasmine toward the wardrobe. The younger girl opened the doors and began to riffle through stacks of hanging dresses. “Tonight is the royal celebration dinner to welcome Prince Kadesh home. You are his guest and must look your best.”

  Her words slowly registered. “Who will be there?”

  “The royal family, of course,” Tijah began. “All the kingdom’s dignitaries, heads of state, the general of the army. There will be music and dancing, too.”

  Trepidation crawled up my throat. I wanted to jump on my camel and run away to the desert for a few hours. “I need some fresh air.”

  “You’ll get wet if you step outside,” Tijah told me, escorting me to the dressing table. “We need your hair to stay dry so we can arrange it into curls.”

  “Curls?” I echoed. “It’s already wavy.”

  Tijah smiled mysteriously. “You’ll see what talents I have, my lady. And I hope if you like my service you’ll consider retaining me for a long time to come.”

  Retaining her services was my decision? It was odd to have such power.

  I still felt clean from the long soak two nights earlier. Jasmine had scrubbed me harder than my mother ever had. But she gave me a sponge bath now with clean linen and hot, fragrant water. Then I sat at the dressing table while the two sisters worked on my hair and face.

  Tijah had a strange ceramic cylinder contraption she heated in the fire and wrapped about the long strands of my hair, creating a series of ringlet-type curls. Next she pulled my hair up into a loose knot, allowing the lovely curls to glide down my neck.

  With gentle fingers, Jasmine applied a lavender eye color to the lids, expertly adding thick lines of black kohl above and below my eyelashes to create an exotic appearance.

  Using a series of cream and lotions, the girls softened the rough skin of my arms and legs, dotting my wrists and ears and chest with a woodsy, sensual perfume. A bit of rose color applied to my face brought out my cheekbones. Pomegranate juice stained my lips.

  While the girls chose a gown from the wardrobe, I caught a glimpse of Jasmine mouthing words to Tijah in the mirror. Her older sister whispered in return. The two girls saw me watching and hurriedly averted their faces.

  My servant girls were talking about me. And it wasn’t about the evening’s dressing. “What is it?” I demanded.

  “My lady, we were only discussing the perfect gown. And slippers to match.”

  “Tijah,” I said, feeling bolder. “Please come here.”

  The girl advanced toward me with slow steps.

  I forced her eyes to meet mine. “If we are to trust each other I must know what it is you’re whispering about with your sister. She understands more than she admits.”

  “There are many things, Lady Jayden, that are just . . . puzzling to us.”

  I clenched my hands together. “Who is spreading gossip about me?”

  “Some of the servants are saying—” she swallowed. “They’re saying you killed a man.”

  “How in the world . . .
?” I lifted my face to the girl who stared back at me in the dressing mirror. I regretted killing Gad, but he’d given me no choice. Would the people of Sariba only see me as a girl who’d killed one of my own kinsmen?

  “I must speak with Kad—Prince Kadesh,” I stammered. “It’s very important.”

  Tijah’s eyes widened. “You need to request an audience first. It can take a few days to receive an appointment.”

  “But he’s my—oh, dear God in heaven!” I cried out in frustration. Gossip about killing Gad had reached the palace ears, but not my relationship with the Prince of Sariba. “Please get me some water, and then let’s finish dressing. If I sit here any longer I’ll scream.”

  “I’m so sorry, my lady,” Tijah said, obviously troubled by my distress.

  Jasmine fetched a drink for me and then the two girls held up the dresses in the wardrobe for my examination. One was a slim piece in a deep forest green, the second a striking red with shots of gold. Lace trimmed the skirt bottom and sleeves.

  “Perhaps the green is more soothing, more elegant,” Tijah suggested.

  I nodded my assent, and Jasmine knelt to help me step into the dress. Before she pulled it up over my legs she jerked her chin up, blinking in bewilderment. She pointed to my feet and then cast a pleading look at her sister.

  Tijah stepped forward. “She says you have something odd on your foot.”

  I glanced down and realized Jasmine was staring at the ankle bracelet Kadesh had given me. The two sisters kneeled on the floor to peer at the frankincense tree made of silver, the halo of sun on the horizon of ocean waves. So perfectly the symbols of this land.

  Tijah brushed the silver chain with her fingers. “Who gave you this?”

  I unclasped the anklet and held it in my palm. “Prince Kadesh. Of course.”

  “How strange he would give you such a gift. Because he’s—” Tijah glanced once more at her sister.

  My patience disappeared, my voice raw at the edges. “What?”

  Tijah wrung her fingers around the sash of her dress, twisting the cloth into cords. “It’s just that . . . Prince Kadesh is betrothed to someone else.”

  24

  Kadesh betrothed to another girl? That was impossible. He’d been gone for over a year. He’d told me he loved me a hundred times over, had given me gifts. We’d made so many plans for our future, a future I yearned for with every fiber of my being.

  In a single moment my entire life had precariously tilted. I stood on a sharp precipice with no stone or floor beneath me, where falling meant certain destruction. Dazed, I glanced up. Jasmine blinked her eyes as though she were about to burst into tears.

  “Jasmine says we’re all heartbroken our beloved prince almost died,” Tijah translated. “That he’s now blind. Everyone is upset.”

  A cold numbness spread through my limbs. Servants talked, right? I’d certainly listened to the girls at the temple gossiping all day long. Perhaps this betrothal was just hateful rumors. After all, I was a stranger from a small, inconsequential tribe. My feelings didn’t matter. Maybe someone was, this very moment, laughing at the joke because they hated my tribe—or didn’t like a stranger coming in to marry their beloved prince.

  Beads of perspiration broke out on Tijah’s face. “Some are saying it’s your fault our prince has come home scarred and wounded.”

  “My fault?” I gripped the silver bracelet so hard the edges cut into my palm. The same palm Kadesh had kissed so many times. “First I’ve killed a man and now it’s my fault the prince of Sariba is blind? Who is saying these things?”

  “The servants’ quarters are buzzing with stories.”

  I strode the length of the bedroom, angry, confused, and fighting to stay in control. Whirling around, I said, “I won’t be attending the dinner party. Tell them I’m ill. Actually, I don’t care what you tell them.” Without warning, tears began to form behind my eyes. I stifled them down. “Do you know where my camel is quartered?”

  “The stables and camel corrals are located on the northern side of the palace grounds,” Tijah answered. “A short walk from here. But you can’t walk there by yourself.”

  I tried to breathe, to think calmly. The citizens of Sariba didn’t want me here. Maybe I should leave, begin my journey back to the desert and find a new life somewhere else.

  “You would have looked so beautiful in the green gown,” Tijah added wistfully.

  The girls watched to see what I would do. I realized I could sulk here in the bedroom—or I could find out the truth. Pivoting on my heel, I said, “Actually, dress me please. I will attend dinner.”

  “Yes, my lady!” Tijah waved her hands at Jasmine and the girl’s brown eyes widened. She smiled so sweetly, so eagerly, I couldn’t help giving her a tremulous smile in return, brushing away the stupid tears on my face.

  Shakily, I stepped into the green gown for the second time. Jasmine helped me push my arms through the embroidered sleeves. She fastened the back and then tied sashes of various shades of green, the color of leaves and jungle and ocean, around my waist.

  Tijah fixed my makeup and then finished arranging my hair, adding a fine mist of gold lacquer to keep the cascading curls in place.

  “You look beautiful,” Jasmine mouthed, fixing a stray curl.

  The sisters led me out of the suite to the main hallway where endless, elaborate tent walls had been joined together to form the lavish palace.

  “We’re not allowed to leave this part of the palace. Go down this hallway, past several doors,” Tijah instructed. “The royal dining hall will be on the right. You’ll hear music. High-ranking ladies’ maids will direct you where to sit.”

  I was sure I’d throw up when I left the relative safety of my room to venture down the grand hallway. Peaked ceilings as high as cypress trees floated overhead. Gilded chairs and luxurious carpets.

  My mind kept returning to Tijah’s words: Kadesh is betrothed to someone else. Why wouldn’t he tell me something so important, so life-altering? The information seemed to fill the corridors with appalling implications.

  I wished my father, or even Asher, had come to fetch me. Instead, I was facing a crowd of strangers by myself. At the end of the hallway, a woman wearing sprays of jade and garnet earrings beckoned to me. “Please enter, Lady Jayden. You and your father will be seated at our guest table.” I stood at the door, hesitating, and the woman sent me forward with a surreptitious push of her ringed hand.

  The dining hall boasted elegant soaring columns. Velvet cushions in every color of the rainbow were set beneath long, low tables. A thousand lamps and candles. People lounged, chatting, talking, and laughing. So much color, so much light, so many people. Unsure where to go, I wavered, trying desperately to find Kadesh in the crowd.

  In one corner, a musician thumped two different-sized drums while a flutist and a harpist played a high melody over the deep sound.

  Various wines were presented on shiny platters. Servants in white linen and bare feet expertly moved through the hall.

  “This way, my lady.” Another woman was at my elbow, leading me to a table on my far left. Heads turned as I approached. Murmurs began. My name was spoken on both sides of me. Behind me, a female voice carried across the din. “That’s the camel girl from the north.” Her friend added grudgingly, “I expected worse. But why are they here? And why did they bring the Edomite army?”

  I stared rigidly ahead, forcing myself not to clench the folds of my dress in my fists. Large urns bursting with flowers sat in the corners. Sweet perfume emanated from garlands of jasmine strung along the low walls of the perimeter.

  “Your place is here next to your father.”

  I didn’t know who had spoken, but my eyes finally focused. Chemish and Asher were already seated at the same table. My father’s familiar, dear face locked onto mine. He gave me a wan smile, looking completely out of place. I think we both wished, at that moment, we were racing our camels out on the desert. But those memories almost seemed to belong to some
one else.

  After I was seated, I leaned in, unable to contain the desperation in my voice. “Where’s Kadesh?”

  “The royal family table,” Chemish answered.

  A servant set a plate of lettuces and herbs sprinkled with dried pomegranate, raisins, and almonds before me. I murmured my thanks, and then lifted my eyes, clutching at my napkin.

  Kadesh sat directly across the expanse of the hall from me. He wore a white tunic, a royal purple robe thrown over his shoulders, and a crown of gold on his thick, dark hair, which suddenly looked longer, curling at the ends, as though I hadn’t seen him in weeks instead of two days. Our swim in the ocean, the fevered kissing on the beach while waves rushed along our bodies, almost seemed like a dream now.

  Was I an imposter?

  Kadesh’s eyes met mine and softened. My face felt tight. I studied the man I loved while he lifted a goblet of red wine, desperately wanting to touch him, to make sure he was real. Was he really mine or did he belong to someone else? A thousand questions tortured me.

  Trying not to stare at the royal table on the raised dais, I forced myself to eat tiny bites of the syrupy apricots that had appeared on the table. Grapes mixed with sugared almonds. My nerves were strung so tightly I was sure I’d be sick later.

  The roar of talk and laughter covered up my unease. My eyes raked over the guests. Was the woman Kadesh had been betrothed to here in this very room? I studied every girl. Imagined Kadesh sharing secrets with her, sharing kisses, and tried not to gag on my salad leaves.

  In the center of the royal family table was a gentleman older than my father. He wore his hair long like Kadesh, but it was pure white. His accompanying beard was also a silvery white color, long but neatly trimmed. His aged eyes drooped, hooded like my grandmother’s, as though he possessed wisdom and knowledge over everyone else in the room.

  Formerly a tall, broad-shouldered man, the man was now stooped with age. His hand shook when he raised his goblet of wine. “Is that the king?” I asked under my breath.

  “Yes, that’s King Ephrem,” my father replied.