Daughters of Jared, page 7
“Has he . . . been kind to you?”
“He’s been wonderful, but I’ve become fiercely envious. If anything captures his attention and takes his focus away from me, even for a single moment, I become upset,” she said, her lips trembling again.
This was not my sister. This was not what I expected. She was always the one with the power—even over her own emotions.
“This morning,” she continued, “he was gone when I awakened. I had no idea where. I searched the palace in my bed clothes; I even opened your door to check inside.”
“Mine?”
Her hand went to my arm. “I know he’d never come here—never be unfaithful. And I’m ashamed to say it even crossed my mind.” She took a deep breath. “But I was wild with worry, and I came up with the most horrifying possibilities to explain his actions.”
“Where was he?” I asked.
“In the cooking room, fetching me a bowl of fruit for the morning meal. He didn’t want to wake me,” she said, wiping her eyes again.
“That’s good, right?”
She nodded. “Yes, of course. He told me I was being foolish. And then I started to cry in front of him.”
I couldn’t imagine how Akish might deal with a crying wife. But I didn’t need to. Ash wasn’t finished with her story.
“He was so sweet,” she said, sniffling again. “Absolutely charming.” Her voice took on an edge. “But I still worry. What if he becomes bored with me? What if he wants a concubine?”
“This is our home,” I said. “Father won’t allow it.”
“Father had concubines,” she said.
I stared at her, disbelieving. “No, he didn’t.”
“Perhaps you were too young to understand. It was before he lost the throne.” Her face paled, and she turned away.
I wasn’t too young to understand now, but the horror of it slammed into my stomach. How could my father do that to my mother? What had she thought? I felt ill. My heart ached for her and hardened further against my father. How could he? Yes, he was king; yes, it was considered a symbol of power and wealth—but . . . I looked at Ash. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs.
I took a deep breath, knowing I needed to comfort my sister. “You shouldn’t worry. You’re the most beautiful woman in the city,” I said, but it came out more of a whisper, so it wasn’t entirely convincing. My mother had been beautiful, had given my father four children, but apparently that hadn’t been enough. Then I thought of the things Akish had said to me, and a shiver passed over me.
Ash crossed the chamber and stood in front of the narrow window, looking out as she wrapped her arms around herself. “You are beautiful.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I stumbled through the next words. “No one compares to you. You should have seen everyone watching you at your wedding. Any man in that room would have traded places with Akish.”
“Akish said he thinks you’re beautiful.” Her voice sounded dead, dull. She turned from the window, regarding me with narrowed eyes.
My face heated, and my stomach felt as if I’d swallowed a rock. The compliment from Akish was almost unbearable—now that it was too late. My sister must not know the pleasure and pain that collided in my breast at those words. “I’m your sister, Ash. A compliment to me is one to you as well.” I hoped to change the direction of the conversation. What was Akish’s purpose in telling my sister he thought I was beautiful? “We should go to the market today and see if there are any new treasures to be found.”
She continued to stare at me.
“Come on.” The brightness in my voice was false. “The fresh air will lift your spirits.” I extended my hand, hoping she’d take it. We could be young girls again, giggling through the streets, commenting on the people we passed, and talking about our dreams of the future.
Ash didn’t move, her expression as hard as limestone. “Tell me, Naiva. Tell me if my husband has kissed you.”
“No! Never,” I nearly shouted. “How can you even ask that?”
She blinked but said nothing.
“Don’t you know me?”
She closed her eyes for a second then opened them again. “I’m sorry. I told you I was going mad.”
“Come.” I crossed to her and tucked my hand in hers. “We’ll go out for a while and let Akish be the one to worry.”
She smiled at that.
THE DAYS AND WEEKS PASSED swiftly, and Ash practically floated through the palace, laughing and taking delight in everything. Yet no matter how happy she seemed, I often caught her giving me a hard stare, eyes narrow, expression distrustful.
My sister’s marriage had put a wedge between us—one that others may not have noticed, but one I felt deep within my heart. The pain came from the fact that Ash had touched on the truth of Akish noticing me. His previous words and actions had confirmed it, and at one time, I’d desired it. My whispered prayers at night were to forget any thoughts or feelings I’d had for the man who was now my brother-in-law and to see him as whom he ought to be to me.
About three weeks after the marriage, I was finally set free. Although not in the manner I’d expected.
Ash became ill, and the first rumors were that perhaps she was with child.
“It’s much too early for signs of a child to make me ill,” Ash told me.
I was in her chamber, sitting by her bed. I had spent most of the past two days by her side, keeping her skin cool from its burning. “How do you know for certain?”
“I sent for the healer this morning. He told me that even if I had conceived on my wedding night, the symptoms wouldn’t be so strong yet.”
“So you are not with child?”
“I may still be. It’s very early to tell,” she said with a smile on her pale face. She closed her eyes as I placed a wet cloth on her forehead.
It was moments like these, when Ash needed me, that I felt close to my sister again. But I couldn’t rely on her being ill forever. Once she was better and full of energy, I would again become afraid of her silent accusations.
Her eyes opened, and she lifted a lethargic hand. “Have you seen Akish yet today?”
“Not yet,” I said. “He may be training the guard.” Since Levi had refused to accept the position as head guard, Akish had taken over until he could find someone trustworthy.
Ash dropped her hand and turned her head away.
“What is it? Should I call the healer back?”
“No,” Ash whispered. “Find out where my husband is. He’s been gone a lot since I’ve been ill.”
That was exactly why I was spending so much time with my sister. It would have been impossible if her husband were hovering over her as well.
I left Ash to rest and walked along the hallway, asking various servants where Akish might be. One told me he’d seen him last in the gardens. Another said he was at the training field behind the palace. I found him at neither.
That night, just as I was about to fall asleep, I thought I heard a woman’s laughter. Was my sister finally recovered? I hadn’t heard her laugh for days. I rose from my bed, hoping a servant would know how Ash was doing. I certainly didn’t want to interrupt if she was with Akish. In the hallway, everything was silent, so I stepped back into my room. The laughter came again, but it wasn’t from the hallway, as I first thought. I opened the window and peered out into the garden.
The moon hung heavy and full, casting its pale light over the gardens. The laughter started then stifled quickly. Curiosity burned in my chest, and I turned away from the window and grabbed a cloak. Perhaps it was one of the servants, but the unease in my stomach wouldn’t go away. I crept through the halls and exited the palace. A sleepy-looking guard looked a bit surprised when I exited, but he didn’t try to stop me. In the gardens, I kept to the shadows as much as possible, pulling the hood on my cape over my head.
Then I slowed to a dead stop.
On a bench my sister and I frequently sat on was the storyteller Tirzah—the woman my father had invited to our banquets. She was sitting next to Akish, her arms wrapped around his neck. His hands were at her waist, and he was smiling. When he leaned down and pressed his lips against her neck, her laughter bubbled up again.
Horrified, I stepped back, bumping into a branch. The branch cracked, and before I could decide if Akish had heard me, I turned and ran.
Back in my room, I shut my window as quietly as possible and blew out the oil lamp. Then I huddled on my bed, hoping and praying that Akish hadn’t seen me. But I prayed even harder for my sister. Her suspicions had proved correct. I suppose a wife would suspect that type of thing. The image of Akish kissing Tirzah sent shooting pain through my head and heart. For my sister. For me. For my family. We had a traitor in our midst.
How would I tell her? The struggle for me wasn’t if I’d tell her but how. And when.
I hugged my torso as I started to shake. The tears were unavoidable now, and they wet my cheeks, trailing into my hair. I had once allowed myself to be flattered by this man, and now as I remembered Levi’s words about his brother, I realized they had been a true warning.
The laughter from the gardens had long since stopped, and I assumed they’d heard me and moved to a more private place or broken things off for the night.
A light knock sounded on my door, and I froze. I didn’t move, hardly daring to breathe, hoping whoever it was would go away. I couldn’t face my sister. If it was a servant telling me she was ill again, I couldn’t look her in the eyes and not have her notice something was wrong.
But the voice that whispered through the door was not a woman’s.
“Naiva, I know you’re awake,” Akish said. “Open the door.”
I couldn’t move, even if I wanted to. Fear trapped me. He had seen me in the garden. My heart skipped a beat when I heard a scraping sound. The door slowly opened.
When Akish stepped into my chamber, I bit back a scream of fright. He was at my side in seconds, his hands on my shoulders, gripping them hard.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” he demanded.
I nodded, the fear too thick to let me speak.
“You won’t say anything to your sister; she is too frail.” His hands dug into my shoulder and would leave dark bruises. If I were to use any word to describe my sister, in sickness or health, it would never be frail.
“She deserves to know the man she married,” I managed to choke out.
Akish leaned forward, his face so close to mine that I smelled the flowers of the garden on him—most likely from Tirzah. I shuddered, and his nose lifted in a sneer. “I’m not asking you to keep quiet. It’s a command.”
I pulled away, but his hands stayed on my shoulders, pressing me against the bed. “Promise me,” he said.
“No.” I couldn’t lie to my sister. I couldn’t live with this secret between us.
His face darkened in anger. “You will obey me, or you’ll pay severe consequences.”
“I already have,” I spat out.
His hand shot out and slapped me across the cheek.
I gasped, the tears instantly burning in my eyes. I curled away from him, but he yanked me back around to face him.
His lips nearly touched my ear as he growled, “If you tell your sister, I’ll be back, and you’ll wish you never crossed me.”
My sister fully recovered a few days after I caught Akish in the garden with Tirzah. I was careful to avoid being alone in her company, since the temptation to tell her was too great. If she asked me about her husband or where he spent his extra time, I would be forced to reveal what I knew. I wondered if she’d be more upset at her husband if she found out or at me for not telling her the moment I knew. Every time I was about to slip into my sister’s room or pull her aside, I remembered Akish’s angry face, his rough hands pushing me down on the bed, his whispered threats in my ear.
Akish acted as if nothing had happened.
The storyteller was at every evening meal in our household. I watched her spend time with my father, smile at Akish, and entertain our ever-growing court with her tales. Was her attention more so on Akish than the other men? If I hadn’t been looking, I wouldn’t have noticed. But a brighter flush came to her cheeks when she spoke to him.
I watched my sister too. I wondered if she noticed the attention from Tirzah. Perhaps she suspected already, relieving me of the duty of telling her. But while I watched my sister closely night after night, I realized something. She was in love with her husband.
I was quite certain she hadn’t been truly in love with Akish when they had married and definitely not when she had first danced for him. She had been entranced, perhaps, but more interested in using him to win my father’s kingdom back. But now . . . I noticed the small things. The tilt of her head when he spoke to her, the way she touched him each time he was near, and her intense gaze as she watched his every movement.
If she was in love with her husband, I could understand her jealousy.
The last thing I wanted to do was break my sister’s heart—which meant the last thing I could do was tell her of Akish’s infidelity.
“The oracle has arrived,” someone called out.
We were in the middle of our evening supper, surrounded by the usual guests of the high court.
My father clapped his hands together, commanding everyone’s attention. I looked toward the door and saw an elderly woman standing there. She gazed at us openly, as if she could see into all of us at once.
A tiny shiver passed through me, but I couldn’t understand it. I’d heard oracles speak before. My father had called upon them in the past.
I had never seen this woman. Her graying hair hung loose about her shoulders in soft waves. Her skin was wrinkled with age, but her hands appeared to be as smooth as a child’s. Everyone settled on their cushions as she walked into the room.
“Welcome,” my father said. “Are you the one Akish sent for?”
“I am.” Her voice carried clear and distinct to all those in the room.
“Would you like food or drink?” my father said.
“I am ready to deliver my message.”
A smile flashed across my father’s face. “Then please begin.” He sat back down, his expression eager.
Oracles came and went, making declarations of weather, the harvest, and the health of the children and offered blessings upon the king. I assumed Akish had brought the oracle in so the court might hear her blessings upon our family.
But as the oracle spoke, her words came out as a warning.
“Jared, son of Omer, you are in grave danger,” the oracle said. “Hold close only those you trust the most. Forces are against you in all corners of the kingdom. You must not eat or drink, for surely you will die.”
Akish jumped to his feet, his face dark red. “Guards, take her away! How dare you threaten the king?”
As the guards rushed forward, my father stood as well, looking deathly pale. Ash ran to his side then turned to face the oracle.
The woman simply stood in one place, her expression passive as if she’d just foretold the rainy season, not paying attention to the guards as they ran up to seize her. She made no movement to struggle, to deny or clarify what she’d said, but simply allowed herself to be led out of the room.
“Who is that woman?” Ash cried out as the oracle was taken away. She wrapped her arms about my father, who looked visibly shaken.
Akish declared, “She is mad. She is not who I thought she was. Her reputation was misquoted.” He turned to face the stunned court. “The person who misled me will be punished. Guards, bring me Kib, son of Corom.”
“What did she mean?” Ash wailed. “How can my father not eat or drink? He will surely starve.”
Akish put his arm around her and pressed his lips against her hair, murmuring words I could not hear.
After a few moments, the people of the court started to whisper to each other, and conversation eventually returned to normal. But my heart didn’t stop pounding. The woman had looked far from mad to me. What had she truly seen about my father’s future? Was it something that every king had to fear? Traitors? A rebellion? That was nothing new. Kings could trust few people around them. My sister’s concern was the same as mine, no matter how Akish tried to explain the oracle’s words away.
I left the room before Kib could be brought to face Akish and my father. I did not care to hear any explanations or witness the fullness of Akish’s wrath.
When I reached the cooking rooms, everyone was talking about the oracle’s message. The servants were used to seeing me in the cooking rooms, looking through the vegetables, fruits, and herbs to make dyes for my paints. But when I entered this time, the buzz quieted, and all eyes turned to me.
“Does anyone know if the oracle’s predictions have come true before?” I asked.
Several servants looked away or down at the ground. One boy stepped forward. Lib. “King Omer didn’t consult the oracles.”
Sara, a heavy-set woman, hushed him.
But Lib met my gaze openly.
“Why not?” I asked.
“King Omer listened only to the one true God,” Lib said.
Sara put a hand on Lib’s shoulder. “That’s enough, boy.”
“It’s all right, Sara,” I said. “I’m not going to report anything back to my father.” I looked at Lib again. “Omer’s God knew more than the oracles?”
Lib glanced at Sara then to me. “Many people might have spiritual powers. But King Omer only needed to rely on the Lord.”
“What do you think the oracle meant?” I felt strange asking a boy to interpret a spiritual leader.
Lib swallowed audibly. “You won’t report this to your father?”
“No, I swear on my life.”
“King Jared did not obtain this kingdom in righteousness, not the first time and not the second time. How can anyone who hasn’t lived honestly expect honesty in return?” His face reddened. “Not to say that we aren’t very loyal and would never wish any harm—”
“I know you’re all loyal.” I raised my hand to stop his fumbled explanation. I looked into the eyes of the servants in the cooking room. “Whether or not we believe in the oracle, we must be vigilant. Every bit of food or drink that is prepared for the king will be tasted in his presence. He must eat and drink to live. But we must prevent any tainting of his food or drink.”
