Forbidden

For my mother,
whose enduring faith sustains her in all things—
and inspires me
.

1759
BC

THE DESERTS OF MESOPOTAMIA

T
onight was the night of my betrothal ceremony, and a cold, sharp moon hung low in the eastern sky. I yanked back the heavy panel doors of the tent and peered into the darkness, a lump of dread sitting like curdled camel’s milk in my belly.

Dozens of small torches bobbed and weaved along the paths. Held aloft by the approaching women, they emerged as drops of frozen fire against the blackness. I shivered at the sight of so many guests imminently arriving. A year ago we had celebrated my older sister Leila’s betrothal to Zenos, and now, at sixteen, it was my turn to perform the betrothal dance before my family and the women of my tribe.

As I scanned the path for my sister, nerves raced along my skin. I kicked my bare toes at Aunt Judith’s tapestry rug in her back bedroom, ready to tear the frayed edges into shreds. Leila
had promised to dress and perfume me, so I was waiting here, alone. Of course, she was nowhere to be seen. All was darkness and starlight.

“Leila, where are you?” I muttered, snapping the panel doors again.

I chewed my fingernails, then glanced down at my dusty clothes. Two hours ago, the sun had burned my face, the wind had whipped at my cheeks, and I’d savored my last hours of freedom.

Now I swiped a comb through the collection of particularly nasty knots in my hair—a consequence of an impulsive camel ride out to the desert. It was a desperate attempt to escape my fate, but my father had quietly hauled me back after my mother’s wild search had proved fruitless.

Mother had stood at the camel pens, her brow creased with worry, her eyes hunting the open desert. Even though she had been upset, she had folded me in her arms when I returned and held me close, whispering words of reassurance.

Through the crack in the tent’s doorway, I finally spotted a small flame advancing on the curve of the path and darted outside.

“Where have you been?” I grabbed for Leila as she came within reach, but she spun away, holding up the lantern.

Her dark hair floated like silk over her shoulders. The jewel in her navel winked green in the shadows, accenting the pleated white linen skirt that hung low, slung around her sensuous hips. A sheer crimson drape crossed her bare shoulder, emphasizing the shape of her chest. My sister was the picture of
beauty. An Egyptian princess. The way I should look tonight, and I envied her.

“
Where
did you get that dress?” I asked.

A hint of a smile twitched at Leila’s lips. “It’s a secret.”

“Tell me!” I begged. “Are you going to wear that dress tonight with all of our cousins and friends watching?” My eyes traveled the length of her slim torso. “You can see practically everything!”

“Oh, Jayden, you’re such a prude!” Laughing softly, Leila twirled around on her toes. “What does it matter if the dress makes us beautiful?” When she lifted her arms, she looked like a jeweled white column from the goddess temple in Tadmur—the Temple of Ashtoreth.

“Leila, you know the goddess dresses are forbidden. It’s as though you enjoy shaming our family.” I stared at the flowing, revealing garment. I’d never seen anything so evocative, so sensuous.

Leila came closer, a shrewd look in her eye. “Deep down, you probably wish you were wearing this dress.”

She was right, although I wouldn’t admit it to her. A part of me wished I were as bold and as stunningly beautiful as my sister. A hot sensation of envy and irritation crept up my neck. “Are you trying to sabotage my betrothal ceremony? You’ll be the center of all the attention.”

“You worry too much, Jayden. I’m not doing anything wrong, just having some fun. Now try to focus on
tonight
, your night,” Leila added with a grin. “And your dance before the women of the tribe, in preparation for Horeb.” She raised
an eyebrow and the twisted nerves in my gut roiled like scorpions. “Think of how much Horeb wishes he had permission to watch you.”

I looked down, embarrassed. That was the problem. Eventually he would.

“You are terrible!” I snapped, unable to express my true feelings. This night didn’t mean to me what it meant to Leila. She had been in love with Zenos, Horeb’s older brother and heir to the tribal throne. I was only engaged to Horeb because our fathers had arranged it when we were children. But after losing Zenos in the terrible raid by the Maachathite tribe last year, Horeb had automatically become the eldest son, which changed my fate, too.

“Remember, Jayden, you’ll get your womanly jewelry tonight,” Leila said softly, as though trying to make amends.

I smiled despite my frustration. “I hope so. That’s the only good thing about tonight’s ceremony.”

My father had lost too many camels this year, and had never been a rich man, but I held out hope that my parents had the means for me to receive my betrothal jewelry. The childish beads I wore around my neck looked hideously plain next to Leila’s shimmering jewelry.

“What are you two doing out here?” A curt female voice cut through the darkness before I could haul Leila inside. “Can’t you hear everyone inside already?”

It was Dinah, our haughty neighbor, standing with her hands on her hips, a fierce expression on her face.

Quickly, I stepped in front of my half-dressed sister to hide her.

Dinah eyed me with silent disapproval. “I would think you’d be ready by now.” She stepped closer and touched my messy, tangled hair, pursing her lips. “You’re a disgrace, Jayden. You don’t deserve the honor of a betrothal ceremony. Under Horeb’s family tent, no less.”

Dinah’s presence was impervious. Her dress lay in perfect folds. Her hair had not a strand out of place. “Any other girl would be counting her blessings every morning. Horeb is a prize and the girl who marries him will be the richest woman of the tribe.” She glared at me. “You don’t deserve him at all.”

I took a ragged breath, upset at her demeaning words, but before I could form a retort, Dinah whirled around and marched to the front doors of Aunt Judith’s tent.

“Come on,” Leila said, grabbing my arm and hauling me inside the back dressing room. “Ignore her. Dinah just wishes she were sixteen again and could fight you for Horeb. Here, look at yourself.” She thrust Aunt Judith’s piece of copper at me so I could check my reflection as she threw one of her modest dresses over her alluring costume to cover it up before we entered the party. Terrified eyes stared back at me in the mirror, and my hair was worse than I thought.

I ran my fingers through it, trying to untangle the knots. I wanted to crawl under a stack of blankets and curl up into a ball. “Maybe I could hide in Aunt Judith’s largest cooking pot.”

“Don’t even think it, Jayden,” Leila warned.

“Or we could postpone the ceremony until next month. What does a few weeks matter?” I swallowed, my heart screaming that I needed more time.

“What’s wrong with you?” Leila rolled her eyes, bending to fix the belt at my waist and ignoring my suggestion. “Jayden, will you stop fidgeting? That kohl along your eyelids is smudged, too,” she added.

“I’m always getting it crooked!” I looked again in the copper plate and dabbed at my eyes, knowing I was just making it worse.

Not a moment later, our mother stepped around the rug partition, her belly swollen under her dress with a growing new baby. She slipped her hand into mine and kissed my cheek. “I know you’re anxious,” she whispered. “By the time of your wedding next year, you’ll be a strong, beautiful woman and so very capable.”

I heard my mother say the words, but I was having a hard time accepting them. Married. My own household. And babies. All within a year. I pictured Horeb under the wedding canopy, in the marriage tent, undressing me, touching me, and felt queasy.

“Every girl gets nervous,” my mother added. “Right before Leila’s betrothal ceremony, your sister hurtled spoons and jars of yogurt all over the tent.”

“I did not!” Leila protested.

I gazed at Leila with new admiration. She never seemed out of control. And yet, I couldn’t stop imagining my sister’s sheer sultry dress caressing my own skin, floating against my body with its fine softness. I shook my head to banish the temptation. Leila’s heart and beliefs were drifting away from our family, ever since Zenos was killed only a month after their
engagement last summer.

My mother’s face grew thoughtful. “There are times, Jayden, when a woman’s emotions run higher and fuller than the waves on the Gulf of Akabah, threatening to drag her to the bottom and drown her.”

“And what does she do to stop it?” I whispered.

“She prays and smiles and greets it with a strong heart.”

“I think I need a lot more practice.”

My mother pulled me close with a soft laugh. “You can do this, Jayden. A betrothal ceremony only happens once in a girl’s life, so enjoy every moment.”

That was the problem. I was dreading every moment of my life from this point forward. But I couldn’t tell her that.

“Where are the male cousins?” Leila asked, peering over the tent partition panels. “Aren’t they invited?”

“What?” I whirled to grab her arm. “The men are coming to the party, too?”

Mother sighed. “Oh, Leila, stop teasing her. You know the men are never invited. And Jayden is true to Horeb and looks at no one else,” she added.

I glanced away, taking a strand of my loose hair and twisting until my scalp burned. I bit back the words I desperately wanted to blurt out. Words I could never, ever say out loud.

Mother put her arms around me and dropped a kiss on my hair. “My beautiful daughter, so lucky to become our tribe’s princess next year. I’m so proud of you.”

Over my mother’s shoulders, I caught Leila’s eyes and saw her chin drop as she turned away from us.
She
was supposed to
have been the tribe princess with Zenos. My eyes swam with tears every time I reflected on her loss.

My mother turned to Leila, lifting her chin with gentle fingers. “You have shown great courage this year, daughter,” she said quietly. “Now, girls, hurry and finish dressing! The night awaits!” She disappeared through the tent partition into the big room, where the chatter and greetings were rising in volume.

“Let’s fix your hair,” Leila said, sitting me down on the rug to brush out my knots and tangles. “This is going to take forever, your hair is so long and thick. Next time you run away on a camel fasten it up inside the hood of your cloak!” Expertly, she pulled my hair up into a loose whorl, fastening it to the top of my head with a bone clip. “There, you look presentable now.”

We stared at each other for a moment, and a fresh set of nerves prickled at my skin. The time was upon me, and there was no getting out of it. “Is it selfish to want to be as beautiful as you are, Leila?”

She laughed. “Jayden, you’re more beautiful than you realize. Sometimes
I’m
envious of
you
.”

It was all I could do not to fall over in shock.

“Come.” Leila pulled my hand toward the main room. “Everyone is waiting.”

I tugged back, hesitating, scared to leave this last, quiet moment. “Leila, what do you think Horeb sees in me?”

She gazed into my face. “Even though you can be as awkward as a newborn camel, Horeb sees what Mother and Father
and everyone else sees in you . . . your heart.”

Her words overwhelmed me. Was that true? At this moment, there were bigger things to worry about. In the next room, the guests of my aunt and mother, our friends and family were gathered, ready for my performance.

“Were you afraid to dance in front of everyone last year?” I asked.

“You know it’s going to happen your whole life,” Leila said, her tender tone surprising me. “But it doesn’t seem real until it’s actually here. And yes,” she added with her lazy smile, “I was scared, too.”

My sister left to give me one last moment to collect myself before I entered the room full of waiting guests. I wanted to stop time, to hang on to this moment forever. I didn’t want to face the women and dance the first dance of my adult life. After tonight, my betrothal to Horeb would be official, binding. And final.

I took a deep, shaking breath and slipped into the main room. Happy cries of welcome greeted me. Each guest had already added her torch to the center fire. Now the women chatted in clusters, wearing their finest embroidered dresses. Necklaces, earrings, pendants, ankle chains—all made a marvelous jingling sound.

The room grew noisier as the hot flames of the fire licked at the pile of dried camel dung. My mind spun, like I was being swept into a canyon river after a torrential rain.

As the festivities began, Leila poured tea and I passed around the small, delicate cups trying to act like an adult,
smiling at each person even though I wanted to gallop away into the desert again.

My mother’s voice rose and fell as she greeted each neighbor and cousin, despite the heat and her swollen belly. We were all hopeful that she’d give birth to the brother my parents had always wanted. I watched her closely, realizing for the first time that my mother was a favorite with everyone. She had a way of making each person feel loved and important.

“Jayden,” Aunt Judith said to me as I placed a teacup in her hands. “You’re going to be a beauty like your mother. We’ve been predicting it for years.”

“You have lines on your forehead, Jayden!” my cousin Hakak teased. “You’re not supposed to be frowning.”

“Or getting so grown-up,” said another voice, wobbly with age. The sea of women parted as my grandmother entered the tent. “Grandmother!” I exclaimed. Setting down my tray, I ran to her, burying my face in the folds of her neck.

She took my hands in her frail, thin ones, black eyes almost hidden in pleats of drooping skin. “I have lived to see all my granddaughters to womanhood. Now I can die in peace.”

I clutched her fingers. “No, don’t say that!”

Her lips cracked into a wicked grin and she gave me a quick, hard embrace. “Don’t worry, child, I’ll be here to wash and dress your first babe after your marriage.”

The tent engulfed me with laughter, the serious moment dissolving into giggles. Then, without any more waiting, my grandmother untied the clasp from her neck and let her white hair cascade to her knees. She shook it out like she was sixteen
again. I’d never seen my grandmother act like this before.