Daughters of Jared, page 5
“No.” I shoved him away. He didn’t resist, didn’t try to stop me, but simply watched me fling open his door and flee down the hall.
I spent the rest of the evening in my room, alternating between staring in numbness at the walls and crying. Akish had admitted he cared for me, that he wanted to be with me, but he wasn’t willing to give up my sister. He didn’t choose her over me like I had at first believed. He wanted us both.
My stomach roiled with nausea as I turned face down on my bed. Why were the gods so against me? How could they be so cruel as to play this game?
Akish thought of me as no more than a harlot. My sister would never put up with him having a second wife or a concubine, so if I wanted to be loved by Akish, I’d have to resort to being the secret woman in his life.
Never, I promised myself. Akish would never touch me again.
Tears burned my eyes as I wept for the injustice of it all. The first man—the only man—to express a deep interest in me was just like my father. Putting power and the wealth of the kingdom first, before any child or friend, not caring who the quest for power hurt along the way.
My sister and Akish would make a formidable pair. But once the freshness of their courtship wore off, what would be left? Would their relationship amount to dregs in a wine skin? And then who would he go looking for? Not me—I won’t allow it.
I climbed off my bed and took a shuddering breath. Night had fallen during my wallowing, and my room was filled with shadows as deep as Akish’s eyes. I changed out of my tunic and pulled on a clean one. Akish had touched what I was wearing, and I would burn it, cleanse myself of him once and for all. He was plotting to murder my grandfather, and he would be marrying my sister soon after the foul deed was done. There could be nothing in my heart or in my possession that belonged to him.
I lit an oil lamp and stared at my reflection in the metal square on my wall. Then I tugged a comb through my hair and twisted it into a knot. I opened the vials of paint that I usually reserved for my sister and began to delicately paint my eyes and lips. I filled in my lips with scarlet, and my eyes looked twice as large outlined with smoky gray. I rubbed plumeria oil onto my skin until it shone soft and dewy. I stood back, assessing myself. I did indeed look like my sister, though I was more angular and she more voluptuous.
I stole along the hallway and escaped into the garden without encountering anyone. There, I lit my used tunic on fire and watched the black smoke climb into the night sky. It obscured the glittering stars, as my sister’s evil plan involving Akish had obscured my hopes.
A couple of servants came running into the garden then stopped short when they saw it was only me burning a small article. They watched for a moment with me then turned and left me to my ashes.
When my tunic had disappeared into the smoldering flames, I watched the breeze dissipate the smoke then turned back to the house. Tonight I’d sit in on the council with my father. I would learn everything possible about the plan so I could warn my grandfather. I had no idea how to send a warning, or if I really had the courage to do it, but just thinking of rebelling made me feel a little better.
I walked into the council room. My sister and father were there but no Akish. My father sat with his hands gripped together, staring straight ahead. My sister paced circles. When she saw me, she ran toward me and grasped my hands. “You must pray with us.”
“For what?” I looked from her to my father.
“For Akish. He’s left to bring your grandfather’s head.”
All warmth drained from my body. I hadn’t expected the deed to be done tonight. I had thought I might discover more and find out a way to prevent it. Not that I was sure I could prevent it, but now all hope was gone. It was far too late. I wanted to collapse. My sister tugged at my arm, leading me to the statue of the goddess Asherah in the corner of the room. Copal incense simmered on a platter in front of the idol, permeating the air with a strong, spicy aroma.
We fell on our knees next to each other, she in prayer and I in weak failure. We leaned forward then bowed our heads to the floor. My sister chanted, and I followed with her, praising goddess Asherah and asking for her blessings.
My body heated, thinking of how we were asking for the wrong blessing. We were asking to be protected from the evil deed of murder. So what if the outcome reinstated my father’s throne, one he had rightfully won? A man’s life would be taken tonight, and not just the life of any man—the life of our grandfather, the king. And out of the three of us—me, my sister, and my father—I would be the only one having nightmares.
With our pleadings and prayers finished, I turned to my sister. “How long has he been gone?”
“An hour. We don’t expect his return until very late.”
One hour. I had missed Akish’s departure by one hour. But what could I really have done? Set out before him? Shown up at my grandfather’s palace to warn him? He barely knew who I was and would most likely have thrown me into prison. But still, I couldn’t stomach the thought of someone trying to murder my grandfather.
The next hours crawled by, each minute seeming longer than the previous one. I stayed in the same room with my father and sister so I might hear the morbid news with them. I didn’t know if I could stomach seeing the severed head of my grandfather, but I wanted to witness the moment my entire fate would change.
Soon after midnight, Ash stood from where she reclined on a set of cushions. Her back went ramrod straight, her eyes wide. “Someone’s coming.”
AKISH SWEPT INTO THE HOUSE the instant my sister opened the front door. Perspiration shone on his face, his cloak was torn and muddy, and his hands were empty.
My father stepped forward, the question on his lips.
Akish held up his hands and took a deep breath. “King Omer has escaped,” he said in a hoarse voice.
We stood there, stunned.
Akish touched his throat, and I immediately understood. I fetched him a cup of wine and handed it over. After a long swallow, he said, “Bring him forward.”
Behind Akish, his men shoved a thin boy forward who looked to be eleven or twelve years old. He was dressed as a servant and trembled like a dog. “This boy told us that Omer was warned in a dream about a plot to take his life. Tell them.” He gave a push, and the boy stumbled toward us.
His voice was high pitched and frightened. “King Omer gathered his family together and told them of a vision he had from the Lord.”
My father scoffed.
The boy looked even more frightened. “The Lord told King Omer that there were those who sought his destruction and would try to overthrow his kingdom. He commanded the king to take his family and flee the land.”
“The Lord commanded him?” Ash broke in. “Do you mean the God Omer worships?”
Fear streaked the boy’s face, but he nodded.
“I don’t believe it,” Father said. “Omer’s God is not real. I think someone gave away our plot.” My father’s eyes focused on the young servant. “Boy, have you seen any of these men at court in the past few weeks?”
The boy inhaled sharply and turned to look at Akish’s men. After a trembling moment, he replied that he had not.
My father crossed to the boy and took him by both shoulders. “Look again very carefully.”
The boy’s face paled, but he looked at each man in turn. Then he raised a thin finger and pointed at Akish. “Him.”
Akish only nodded. “Of course. I’ve spent time each day in Omer’s court to keep our friendship thriving. But I had heard nothing about the meeting with his family.” He narrowed his eyes at the boy. “When was the meeting?”
“Two days ago,” the boy said, pulling away from my father and Akish. “It was late at night. No servants or court members were present. The only reason I knew was I had fallen asleep in the corner of the throne room by accident. No one knew I was there.”
My father watched him carefully, and I did as well. I searched for any flicker of the eyes, any indication that this boy was lying. Could it be possible that there was a God who warned a king of danger? It was fantastic to consider. But this boy didn’t appear to be lying. He just looked frightened.
“When did Omer leave?” my father asked.
“This morning,” the boy said.
“Who else knows what happened?” my sister asked.
The boy’s eyes went to her. “Most of the servants left with the family. A few returned to their homes.”
“So the rumors have been spreading all day that Omer has left his kingdom?” Ash continued.
The boy licked his lips. “I suppose.”
She turned to my father. “We must take immediate action. We must claim the palace and send out an edict that declares you as king.”
Akish stepped forward, bowing to my father. “Your Highness, I’ve not completed my task. I will follow Omer until I have his head.”
My father studied Akish for a moment. “No, son. You’ve restored my power, just not in the exact method planned. I need the new husband of my daughter to be at my side, safe, and ready to build up my kingdom.” He reached for Ash’s hand and put her hand in Akish’s. “Before these witnesses, I give Akish, son of Kimnor, permission to marry my Asherah, daughter of Jared the Second.”
As Akish gripped my sister’s hand fiercely and smiled at her, I felt a pang in my heart. I pushed it away as soon as it surfaced though. Akish didn’t deserve any more time in my thoughts.
My father stepped back and said in a loud voice, “Lock this boy up until we decide what to do with him. Then notify the rest of the household that we leave tonight. When the sun rises in the morning, there will be a new king in the palace!”
As the boy was led away, Ash spoke up. “Father, the boy knows of our plot now. He must be executed.”
Blood rushed to my head at my sister’s callousness. But I needed to tread carefully. “We can force him to take an oath of loyalty. The boy knows those at court who follow Omer. He can warn us of danger.”
Ash narrowed her eyes at me, but my father nodded. “We’ll give the boy the option. He’ll pledge loyalty to me, or he’ll die.”
The servant boy’s name was Lib.
As we traveled through the night toward our new home, I followed the servant who had tied himself to Lib so the boy wouldn’t run away.
“Tell me of Omer’s God,” I whispered to Lib. We were spread out enough that neither my father nor sister could overhear our conversation.
Lib cast me a furtive glance, but I smiled broadly to prove I was friendly. To prove it further, I said, “I’m Naiva. You’ll like my younger brothers, Shule and Ethem. Perhaps you can be their playmate.”
The thin features of his face seemed to soften. “Thank you for sparing my life.”
“You’re welcome,” I said so he would believe I had some influence after all. I knew if Ash or my father had truly been set on executing Lib, nothing I could have said would have swayed them. It was good for Lib to think he had an ally, someone here to protect him. In time, he’d find out I was as much a pawn as he was. But until then, I was determined to learn as much about my grandfather’s family as possible.
“What is the name of Omer’s God?”
“The king calls him Lord,” Lib said.
“Don’t let my father hear you call Omer king,” I said. Lib looked duly chastised.
“Is there a great statue of the Lord in the palace?” I asked.
“No.” A smile touched his thin face. The first I’d seen. It looked so out of place on him that I wondered how much the boy had ever smiled. Sleeping in the corner of a throne room couldn’t be much of a life. “The king—Omer—doesn’t believe in statues or idols of his God. He says his God is the only God and doesn’t need a statue. He says his God is in everything, everywhere.”
“Do you believe that?” I couldn’t help asking.
The boy nodded. I thought about the arrogance of a god who claimed to be the only one. We prayed to many gods and goddesses, depending on what our needs were. How could one god handle all the requests? I peered at Lib, but his expression was placid, as if he believed in the possibility of only one god.
“Where are your parents?” I asked.
“They are dead.” Lib’s tone didn’t sound sad, just matter-of-fact, as if he’d been asked many times about his parents. “They were servants to Omer. They died when I was four. The royal family took me in, knowing I was too young to be much use, but there was nowhere else for me to go.”
“So you lived with Omer during the great battle,” I mused. “What do you remember?”
“I was only six or seven,” Lib said, his voice suddenly sounding very grown-up. He may be young still, but he’d seen a lot. “I remember fetching water for the men building the new palace.”
My father had set the old one on fire after being ousted from the kingdom. His last jab of revenge. Now his revenge had come full circle.
We fell into silence as we neared the palace. Even in the moonlight, it was a majestic sight. There were several parts to the building and two levels that rose to the sky. It spread across a low hill, the white color of the building shaded lavender beneath the moon.
Approaching the palace without guards to stop us, or servants to gather and watch, was a surreal experience. “Why has no one come to ransack the place?” I whispered to Lib.
“They are afraid.”
“Of Omer?”
“No. Of the Lord.”
What power this God must have over the people to even frighten them in my grandfather’s desertion. There were no torches to light our way or warm food to welcome us. I was one of the last to step inside the grand entryway. The desertion felt even more complete and final inside. I looked upward at the immense ceiling. It was three times higher than that of our small house.
My father instructed Lib to lead him to the king’s chamber, where he would establish himself. Ash was preoccupied with Akish, so I found myself exploring on my own. I carried a torch our servants had located and lit, and I walked through the eerily empty halls, in and out of rooms. I found the cooking rooms toward the back of the palace. Stopping in the entryway, I noticed the baskets of fruit, vegetables, and roots, the jars filled with grain, the herbs hanging on the wall—all left as if only abandoned overnight, not permanently. I imagined the bustle that took place here when Omer and his family occupied the palace. With such a large family of children and grandchildren, the cooking room was probably in use from dawn to dusk.
I continued through the palace until I arrived at my father’s new chamber. I halted at the doorway, peering in past the open door. He was in the middle of a conversation with a servant, so he didn’t acknowledge me. His favorite rug had already been placed on the bed, and his collection of swords sat propped against the wall. The rest of our belongings would be sent for over the next few days. My sister came up behind me.
“What do you think?” Her eyes glowed with excitement.
“This place is beautiful.”
She clasped her hands and squealed. “It is. Come, I’ll show you to your chamber.”
Together we left my father’s room, and though I should have felt elation to have a palace to live in, the darkness of the hallways seemed to predate the darkness that was to come. No, we didn’t have to shed blood to gain the kingdom back; for that I was grateful. But we had plotted Omer’s death. Would the people accept my father? Would they rebel? Would Omer’s other sons return to again claim what was theirs?
Ash stopped in front of a large room that already contained several burning oil lamps. Shadows danced merrily along the walls—light and dark alternating, illuminating murals that had been painted there. A collection of vials, with brushes and perfumes, sat on a low table, as if the room were waiting for the owner’s return.
My sister stepped inside and spun around, her arms out. “This is all yours, Naiva! What do you think?”
“Amazing,” I said in a quiet voice. This room was as large as my father’s chamber in our previous house. Stepping inside, I felt as if I were intruding on another person’s private life. The soft blues and purples of the room told me a woman had lived here. Perhaps my cousin or aunt. I picked up a vial of perfume and inhaled. Pomegranate. I set the perfume down. “Where is your room?” I asked, looking around.
“I’ll sleep with you tonight . . . and with Akish tomorrow night.”
I snapped my head around to gape at her. She laughed at my shock.
“Father says we can marry tomorrow evening. I wanted to wait a few weeks to plan everything and invite the whole city, but Father insisted. When Akish also insisted, I gave in.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Can you believe that tomorrow night I’ll be in Akish’s bed?”
I turned away and walked toward the high windows. Tomorrow night my sister would be a married woman. Tomorrow night Akish would sever all hope of us ever being together. I swallowed against the hard lump in my throat. “Let us sleep,” I managed to say, concealing the trembling of my voice. “Dawn is very close.”
We climbed into the great bed, and as my sister’s body warmed my back, I thought of the princess who’d left her things behind that day. Where was she sleeping now?
BY MIDAFTERNOON THE NEXT DAY, my father’s edict had been sent to all of the aristocracy’s households. Our new royal heralds, formerly plain servants, spread the message far and wide, announcing the rise of the new king along every main road, in every gathering place, and in the market center.
By fleeing the land, Omer had made it clear that he was giving up the throne. And with his son Jared, former king and heir to the throne, taking his place, no disputes could be heard. It seemed the people didn’t want another war like the one that had secured Omer’s throne. My father essentially walked into the palace with no resistance.
He discovered Omer’s royal headdress in the throne room.
I came into the throne room as he was trying on the headdress. He turned with a rare smile on his face—rare because it was directed at me.
