Forbidden (20 page)

A picture of Kadesh in his cloak flashed before my eyes. An image of him coming home to me. To
me
. I saw the vision clear as day, sharp as lightning. I didn’t know where or when, but I would see him again. I had to cling to that hope.

In the middle of the night I left my beloved tent and camels and ran for the city of Tadmur.

My destination was the Temple of Ashtoreth.

T
he road to Tadmur lay beyond the wild groves of olive and tamarisk. As dawn stretched across the sky, I was weeping so hard, I could barely see the road circling the oasis. With each step, fatigue took its toll. My legs burned, heavy as tree stumps, muscles shaking so badly I could hardly stay upright. Sleep and food had been in short supply the past few days.

By the time I’d walked more than an hour, I was lurching back and forth across the desolate road. It seemed as though this day was hotter than all the days that had come before, even though summer was coming to an end.

My eyes dripped with tears and the harsh sun blinded me as it surged over the horizon. Sweat coursed down my body as the escape into Tadmur became a mixture of phantom images and voices.

I replayed the horror of my mother’s death on the floor of our tent, burying her in her best dress and jewelry, silver laid upon her eyes. The clang of my father’s shovel as he buried her rang in my ear.

When I stumbled over the sand and rocks, a mirage of memories from my betrothal dance spun before my eyes. Leila’s and my mother’s and cousins’ faces blurring as I whirled around Aunt Judith’s tent made me dizzy all over again. I was so thirsty, almost nauseous. Every step was a struggle, but every step took me farther away from Horeb.

After another hour of walking, much longer than the journey normally took, I was about to faint from exhaustion when I became aware of people and camels milling about. The stone pylons of the city gates soared like jagged giants above me. Marketplace noises rang in my ears. Children rushed past, kicking a ball. The sounds and smells were overwhelming, making me dizzy and more confused. When I tried to take another step past the gates, my legs buckled and I hit the mud-packed dirt with a jolt that rattled my bones.

Just as I started to wonder if I would die, a woman’s voice spoke nearby. “I think she’s hurt. She’s bleeding.”

“Who is she?”

“. . . should we get a physician?”

“No, herbs and a healing spell from the wise woman . . .”

“. . . one of the desert people.”

A hand plucked at my arm and I jerked away, trying to open my eyes, but the lids were sealed shut, burned from the sun and lack of kohl to protect my eyes.

I tried to speak, but my tongue wouldn’t work. I needed water desperately but couldn’t seem to get myself up and moving forward again to find the city wells. Perhaps there was no more well at all. Horeb had told me that. I would die out here in the desert. I should lie down and rest. Dig for water under the sand.

More hands shook my arm and then a voice roared, “Who do you seek, girl?”

“Leila,” I croaked, and then realized that nobody would even know who my sister was. I finally managed to whisper, “Ashtoreth.”

All I heard next was a cacophony of voices, and then hands lifted me. I cried out with the pain of my bruises and the knife wound slashed across my shoulder. I must have lost consciousness because the next thing I felt was a strange coolness as my body sank into a downy bed.

Plump pillows. Scented candles.

Soft hands washed my face and hands. The aroma of healing salves wafted on the air.

A silk gown.

Cold, delicious water on my tongue.

Sleep. Sleep. I’d never slept like this before. Perhaps I’d sleep forever.

So many dreams.

So many nightmares.

The light in the room was dusky when I woke, unsure if I’d slept an hour or three days. I turned over onto my side to see Leila lighting a set of sconces on the far wall. A bowl of
clear soup and warm bread sat on a table next to me.

“Leila,” I whispered, wondering if I still had the ability to speak.

“Jayden! You’re awake. I was so worried.” Leila quickly doused her torch and came over to sit next to me.

“How long have I been asleep?” My throat hurt as though I’d been screaming.

“Nearly two days,” Leila answered. “Esther—all of us—we’ve been caring for you. Even Armana asked after you and directed the physicians to make every medicine available.”

“Armana?” I said and tried to sit up, but I was so weak Leila pressed me back onto the bed.

“She is the Head Priestess of Ashtoreth and runs the temple. But there’s plenty of time to learn all of that. You need to rest.”

“I’m sure you’re famished,” another voice said, and I looked over to see Falail rising from a chair. Her hair lay in curls across her shoulders, her dark eyes rimmed in kohl, lips red with pomegranate stain. “Try to drink some of the soup. And I’ll fetch some soft, sweet fruit.” She smiled and disappeared through an arched doorway.

I stared up at the polished ceiling, at the figures of beautiful dancing women carved into the wood high overhead. Even in this simple bedroom, the beauty of the temple was stunning.

“Jayden,” Leila said as I tried to get my bearings. She stroked my hand and there was a strange tremor in her voice. “How did this happen to you? The scrapes and gashes and bruises on your body. All those horrible cuts,” she added, wincing.

I gazed at her, hesitating. “Oh, Leila, there is so much to tell you of the things that happened when you and Falail left.”

“Is Father well?” she whispered.

“Yes, but nothing else is right.” My eyes swept the room, taking in the racks of elegant dresses, the jeweled tables laden with makeup and perfumes. Leila and Falail had filled their lives with beauty and wealth, just as they’d always wanted.

“It almost appears as though you were attacked. Is that true?”

“You never told me you were leaving,” I said, ignoring her question.

Leila laid her cheek against mine for a moment, and her skin was cool and scented. “It wasn’t intentional. Falail and I came to see the dancing the night of the bridal party. It’s the beginnings of the harvest celebrations. Quite dramatic and special, with musicians and food fit for a queen. It got so late; we didn’t want to walk home alone, so we stayed here. It—it just got easier and easier to stay.” She glanced away, looking guilty. “I know we should have sent a message. . . . Then two days ago a few citizens arrived—with a girl they’d found half-dead at the gates of Tadmur. A girl that kept repeating my name! I’ve never been more astonished in all my life when I saw you.” Leila’s voice dropped. “I was terrified that you were dead.” My sister’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Father is gone raiding, isn’t he?”

I nodded, all my worries flooding over me again.

“When I saw you in that terrible state, I knew something was very wrong. Jayden, please tell me what happened.”

I clenched my fists as I lay back on the pillow. “Falail will not want to hear what I have to say.”

“What do you mean?”

“Horeb chased me and—and we fought.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I had proof that he’d murdered his father.”

She gasped. “Uncle Abimelech?”

I nodded. Leila’s face drained of color as I told her the whole story. When I finished, I said, “You don’t have to tell Falail the entire ugly story, but it’s the truth. And she needs to know that her father has left this world. And that her mother is alone and needs her.”

Leila nodded silently. “The other girls and Armana will help her. They’ve been wonderful in assisting with the care for you.”

“I am grateful,” I said cautiously. “Although I never dreamed in my life that I would lie in a real bed in a luxurious room of the Temple of Ashtoreth.”

Leila’s face was thoughtful. “Our lives have changed so much in just a few months. Our families torn apart . . . Do you still think about Sahmril?”

“Every day I think about her, and you—and our mother.” I paused, tears swimming in my eyes. “Leila, I can’t go back home, even though Grandmother is there and she helped me, and stood up for me. It’s too dangerous, and I never want to see Horeb again. Judith cast me out. I’m officially banished, and not a single woman has spoken to me—not even our cousins. All I could do was find you.”

Her eyes studied my face. “And Kadesh?”

I remembered our pact from that night in the groves of tamarisk and terebinth trees. My secret for her secret. “I never thought I could be bound to someone with all my heart and soul.”

“I’m happy for you to find such love, but I never dreamed Horeb could . . . it’s unthinkable. The man every girl wished she could have.” Leila drew in a breath. “To hate so much . . . I don’t like hearing the things you say. Your heart will turn black with so much hate.”

“Didn’t hate bring you here? Hate for the desert? Hate for all of its hardships? And now you’re choosing the life you want. When I refused the life everybody else chose for me, it made me lose all the things that I wanted.”

Leila reached over to kiss me on the forehead. “One day, Jayden, you’ll be a rich woman.”

I smiled wanly. “That will never happen. Horeb plans to kill Kadesh and force me to marry him. I have to run away, too.”

“Stay here with me, then. With us.”

“But our mother and grandmother always warned us away from the temple. . . .” I weakly protested. Even though I felt safe here from Horeb, I was abandoning my parents’ beliefs, all the things my mother had wanted for me and Leila.

“Do you see anything terrible happening here?” Leila asked. “We’ve become friends with the other girls. It’s beautiful and peaceful here, and there are such incredible comforts, as you can see. Why would anybody say anything bad about it?
I don’t understand. Our mothers didn’t know what they were talking about.”

I shook my head. “I trust their wisdom. She said the dances were corrupted from the ancient purposes of our first mother. That the women of the temples weren’t modest . . . You heard what the women said the night of my betrothal ceremony.”

Leila bit her lips, not speaking, turning away to get me another glass of water from the pitcher on the gilded bedside table. I wondered what she had already done here at the temple, and the idea of it made me queasy.

“Even though you and the priestesses have saved my life, I’m uncomfortable here,” I whispered. “It’s as if I’m betraying Mother and Grandmother. Maybe I should try to get a camel and find Kadesh in Damascus. Horeb mentioned sight of a caravan on its way north from the southern lands. If that’s Kadesh, I need to warn him about Horeb, who will follow his tracks after the raid is over with the Macchathites.”

Emotion choked my throat, and Leila reached out to hug me. Softly she said, “That idea is insanity, Jayden, and you know it. You have no idea where he is, and you’ll kill yourself trying to scour hundreds of miles of empty desert. Horeb and his men are days ahead of you, and have scouts, food, and gold for bribes. You have no camel to ride, no money, and no clan for protection.”

I nodded helplessly as tears rolled down my face. “If it’s impossible to stop Kadesh from being attacked by Horeb, then I must find Sahmril instead. I miss her. We need our sister with us. She belongs to
us
.”

Leila swept back my hair with her fingers just like our mother used to do when we were ill. “For now, just sleep and get strong again. We’ll figure something out when it’s time.”

“What about Falail? Who will tell her the news about her father’s death?”

“I will,” Leila said at last, and I saw a strength in my older sister I’d never known before. Perhaps she really
was
meant to be a part of temple life.

After several weeks, I was finally strong enough to get up from my bed for more than an hour or two to stroll our balcony or sit on the adjoining porch in the warm afternoons.

“You need to stretch your legs, Jayden,” Leila told me, pulling me out the doors of my sickroom after we’d eaten a late lunch. “And I’ve never given you an official tour of the temple grounds.”

I smiled at her wanly, not admitting that I was curious to see more of the temple.

“Falail returned home to be with Aunt Judith. And there is so much to do to get ready for tonight.”

“What’s happening?” I asked her.

Leila put her arm through mine as we entered the marbled hallways. “The final autumn harvest party with so much food you’ll think you’re dreaming, and dancing with the temple musicians. Tonight is the night we thank the goddess for the summer’s bounty and good fortune.”

I smiled at her, indulgent at her excitement. And yet, there was a tug in my belly at the dream of music and dancing. It had been so long since I’d moved my own body and felt the drums in my feet.

“But first, we need baths and then we can choose our dancing dresses.”

I bit my lips, knowing that I was woefully underdressed, more like a beggar. “There are days it still feels like I have stray twigs in my hair from falling in the pond—and grass stains on my feet.”

“The bathing rooms are heavenly, aren’t they? Nothing like our tin bathtub in the tent, although you haven’t enjoyed the large luxury baths with servants yet. I confess that I pretend to be the Queen of Sheba herself when getting pampered in the bathing rooms.”

As we walked through the corridors, Leila talked nonstop. “The temple isn’t just a place of worship, it’s part of the local government. People come here to pay taxes, obtain food if they’re hungry, receive permission to set up a new shop, or to expand their lands. A hundred reasons. The Goddess of Ashtoreth and the God of Ba’al watch over the people in all things.”

I didn’t reply as we passed through a hall with towering columns, where throngs of people moved quickly. Maids carrying trays, slaves wearing white loincloths, shouldering bags of grain, produce, or linens.

At the end of the long hallway we entered an expansive inner courtyard. Slick floors, glazed like marble, felt warm under my bare feet. Half columns, painted to give the impression of palm trees, met my eyes, and I stopped to stare at the miracle of the artists’ talents. Overhead, the roof was open to
the sky, and wedges of afternoon sunlight fell upon the clean sweep of tile.

Across the open foyer, I spotted richly dressed men, obviously city diplomats. Women of all ages on various business errands clustered in conversation, or moved down countless corridors branching in every direction.

I didn’t want to appear interested, but curiosity got the better of me and I found myself staring at the bustling crowd.