Forbidden (17 page)

When I got to my own tent and ducked inside, the place was empty, the fire cold because it had never been lit. I raced through the rooms to rummage through Leila’s personal things. With a sinking heart, I saw that most of her possessions were missing. Her clothes, her sandals, her kohl, her jewelry—gone! I sat down on the floor with a painful thump, my head reeling, an eerie numbness settling in my chest. Esther had been right; Leila was at the temple.

My father’s camel was also gone. I’d seen the warriors gathering on the edge of the camp far toward the horizon. Masses of camels and the men organizing, packing, making their plans. My father must be among them. I had no idea they were leaving so soon. Leila had chosen the perfect time to run away.

I couldn’t walk back to Tadmur in the dark now; I’d have to return in the morning. It was going to be a lonely night, filled with anxiety and dread. Isolation closed in tight around me. I had to find Aunt Judith. I wasn’t going to spend the night by myself.

Besides, I hoped to find my father and say good-bye. Snapping the doors shut, I briskly walked to Aunt Judith’s tent. The camp was dark, with many of the women dancing at someone else’s tent, or visiting a bride-to-be to admire her trousseau. I’d arrived too late and missed them all.

When I came closer, I heard rustlings up ahead. I stopped to listen, barely breathing, touching the new long dagger in my belt, grateful to own a significant weapon.

There was silence again. The nearest campfire was at least a five-minute walk. As the last to arrive in the valley, our tent and Abimelech’s tent were on the outskirts. I could see each fire hearth light twinkling over the sea of tents spread on the valley floor.

I stood rooted to the path, listening, thoughts tumbling inside my mind. As I turned to walk back home, rocks crunched under my feet and I stopped again, ears strained for any sound. Only starlight and a sliver of moon shone overhead. There was nothing but the soft moan of wind and the rustle of rodents somewhere off to my right in a patch of flowering shrubs.

After four more paces, I stopped again. I’d heard that same moan once more. And this time I was certain it was not the wind. “Is someone there?” I asked, my voice sounding timid.

The moans grew louder and I turned, aware now that the strange noise was coming from Aunt Judith’s tent.

I retraced my steps and opened the door of the tent, stepping inside the familiar home with its rich rugs and furniture. The smell of newly made yogurt spiced with cinnamon hovered in the air.

“Aunt Judith?” I called. There were no food preparations left out. Everything was clean and tidy, as though the owners had been gone for several hours.

Crossing the floor, I peered through the opening in the wall partition that led to the rear rooms. One was a storage
space with food baskets and clothing bundles and camel saddles. The other was Judith and Abimelech’s sleeping room.

Hesitantly, I parted the curtain and saw the form of someone lying on the raised bed. “Uncle Abimelech?” Seeing him gave me a jolt. He should be with the raiders, conducting them across the desert with drums and bugles and cheers and wine at the start of their journey. He was the leader of our tribe. It made no sense that he was lying here in his bed on this night of all nights.

Softly, I called out, “Are you ill, my uncle? Can I help you?”

He didn’t answer.

I wondered now about the rustling noises I’d heard earlier. The sounds of someone moving stealthily about the tent, but I doubted the strange sounds had come from Abimelech if he’d been asleep all this time.

“Uncle Abimelech?” I said again, more urgently. As I reached out to place my hand on his brow, I knew in my gut that something wasn’t right. His skin was cool to the touch. In fact, he was too cool, chilled. “Speak to me,” I said into the shadows. “Where is Judith? I’ll fetch her and we can find your physician.”

Still no answer. The corner of the bedroom was dark without a window and it was difficult to see. I ran back to the main room and found a candle, lighting it with an ember from one of the nearly dead coals.

With the wavering candle, I returned to the back room. The feeble moaning I’d heard earlier had ceased now. Uncle
Abimelech was so unnaturally still I began to tremble as I placed a hand on his arm and held the candle up with my other hand.

“Oh, dear God in heaven!” There were three slices in Abimelech’s chest. Three distinct stab wounds. Blood had puddled in a red, dripping mess, flowing down his chest and arms.

A wave of nausea came over me, threatening to knock me off my feet. My eyes swept the bed and his body.

I turned and noticed a cup that had fallen from a table onto the floor.

Someone wanted Abimelech dead.

M
y mind was whirling so fast, I could hardly seize a clear thought. I set the candle on the table and reached down to pick up the cup from the floor. It was empty, but there was residue inside, something other than water.

Chills ran down my neck. A few moments ago, I’d heard his moans. He must have been dying as I’d passed the tent. Were those rustling sounds his attackers leaving?

Leaving when they heard me coming along the path.

Quickly I searched the room again, but there was no knife to be found anywhere. When I lifted my eyes, I saw a sliver of starlight shining through the rear doors of the tent, which were slightly apart. It made sense that the person who had stabbed Abimelech had gone through these doors.

Were they still here, waiting to see if Abimelech was dead? Waiting to see what I would do?

My heart beat wildly as I tiptoed to the doors and opened the flap. It was crazy to stay here a moment longer. I needed to find someone and get help, but my limbs were so heavy I felt like I was dragging myself through a sea of sand.

When I peered out, the light from a lamp shone in my face as Horeb came toward the tent from the opposite direction—from the direction of my own tent. “Jayden, my betrothed,” he called out. “I was just at your tent looking for you, but the place was silent as a tomb.”

His eyes scanned me, taking in my entire figure, but I couldn’t respond.

Instead, I stood in utter silence, my mind racing. Who would want Abimelech dead? Who would have motive enough? Who had the most to gain?

Horeb came closer and reached out to grip my arm. I didn’t move, wanting him to trust me, even as I tried to remain coherent. “Don’t you want to know why I went to visit your tent?”

I swallowed and nodded feebly.

“I went to your tent, Jayden, so that I could get my good-bye kiss before we depart for the raid.”

I smelled the sour scent of wine on his breath, and I recoiled. “You’ve been in the drinking houses in Tadmur,” I said, and he tightened his hold on me. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

“Oh, I’m quite clear in my mind, and it’s clear why you’re here looking for me. We’re alone,” he went on, grinning at me. “We could have a taste of our wedding night right here, right now.”

His words made me want to throw up, but I tried to hold myself steady.

“We can have a proper good-bye,” he continued, “before I lead the tribe out to face the Maachathites. Nobody will ever know.”

I wanted to spit in his face. Instead I said, “I’m just trying to be a good clan leader’s wife and bid you a good journey and a safe raid.”

He shook his head. “You came to my home because you wanted to kiss me, just like you did your stranger. Am I right, Jayden?”

His tone puzzled me, the voice of someone who wasn’t completely sure of himself. Or perhaps the problem was that Horeb wasn’t sure of me? Maybe all this time Horeb had been waiting for
me
to come to him. Maybe he didn’t know how to woo or court me. We’d both been thrown together by our families and had no choice in the matter. That’s why he fought Kadesh: to prove himself not only to his entire family but to me.

Kadesh’s attention had caused Horeb to appear weak and inferior. Powerless. Unwanted. Second-born sons always took second place.

“You are the prize, Jayden,” he said, his voice rough. “And I will win. Nobody will stop me. No matter who they are.”

I allowed him to get closer, to trust me, and I could taste his hot, terrible breath on my face. The smell of Tadmur, but something else, perfumed and womanly, lingered on his
clothing. “You’ve been at the goddess temple,” I whispered. “You know you don’t have my heart, so you must go somewhere else.”

He staggered back, obviously more drunk than he was admitting. “You and my father both,” he said bitterly. “He always loved Zenos more. Always bragged about how kind and noble Zenos was. Abimelech reminded me every single day that I should have prevented my brother’s death. That I wasn’t quick enough with my sword, that I should have been watching our backs. Zenos was the heir and I was not. My father told me what he’d lost, what our tribe had lost. Except that Zenos never had the courage to say he didn’t want the position. He didn’t want his time taken with government and politics. Hearing people’s complaints and settling feuds. I’ve always known I could be the better king. Even Zenos told me that.”

My hair stood on end as the meaning of his words became clear. I tried to take a breath in the stifling, hot room. “What are you saying, Horeb? Did
you
kill your brother on that raid?”

“No!” he shouted hoarsely, suddenly pinning me to the tent wall, his eyes glittering with drunken rage. “I didn’t put the sword to Zenos’s throat; the Maachathites did. That’s the truth.”

“But you left him to die on that hellish cliff, didn’t you?”

Horeb stared at me glassy-eyed. “I saw my chance to take the role of prince he didn’t want—and I—I left him there.”

“Was he alone when he died?” I asked, trembling with horror as I imagined the awful scene.

Horeb’s voice grew raspy, but there was a cold, chilling edge to his tone. “I couldn’t look at Zenos’s face as he died,
bleeding all over the sand. He begged me for water so I left him the last of my bag and returned to our army—after the Maachathites took off with a hundred of our camels. Mostly your father’s.”

“But, Horeb!” I groaned. “You could have brought Zenos back to camp for medical attention. Our men followed the Maachathites only half a day’s ride into the desert before the battle began. How could you have left him there alone? Zenos might have lived!”

Horeb roared at me, and I flinched, fear running like ice through my veins. “Our tribe will be better off with me as leader. By next winter we’ll be bigger and stronger as I carry out my plan to bring the tribes of Jetur and Kedemah as our allies. Richer and safer. Isn’t that worth the cost?”

I shook my head, an unspeakable sorrow filling me. “But now you will lead with blood on your hands.”

“All desert men have blood on their hands! It’s called honor. Many kings kill their brothers or cousins to avoid a coup. Or suffer poison in their food.”

“A king can rule wisely and fairly and justly—and with love!”

Horeb swung his head from side to side, holding me fast to the partition wall. I couldn’t move. I hardly dared to breathe after his alarming confession. “What a fool you are, Jayden! Maybe it’s ignorance. You’re a naive girl. But I can teach you to lead with me. You have no problem breaking our betrothal with the stranger. You have it in you to lie and cheat—just like me. We will make a powerful kingship together.”

I stared into his eyes, which were blurred by hungry ambition. His words cut me to the core. It was true. I had lied. To my father, to Horeb, to the rest of my family. “No. I am not ignorant.” I looked over at Abimelech, and knowing what I did about Zenos’s death now, I was certain how Abimelech had just died. “You had a choice on that battlefield, Horeb. A choice I’ve never had. I was meant to find your murdered father in his bed,” I whispered. “Nobody else would want Abimelech dead. Nobody but you
needs
Abimelech dead.”

“You’re too smart for your own good, little Jayden.”

“You don’t want to wait until we’re married to partake of the marriage bed, either. You want to cheat that. To take what isn’t yours yet. You can’t even wait until your father dies before taking power. You want it
now
. Is that why you killed Abimelech tonight? So you can lead the tribe to the Maachathites and take all the glory?”

He bent over me and I tried not to recoil as his lips brushed against mine. “You think you have all the answers, but you know nothing. My father’s undying love for Zenos is only a small part of it. It doesn’t even matter anymore that Zenos died.”

My stomach dropped to the bottom of my feet. “What are you talking about?”

“Tonight, before leaving to meet our army, my father told me that this battle would be my only chance to lead out to war. He said he wasn’t sure he could trust me to always do the right thing. My father said that
you
were raised to have a sound mind and spirit. Integrity, he called it.”

“Me?” My breath caught. I was surprised that Abimelech had said these things about me and my parents.

Horeb snorted with derision over the memory of his father’s words, and I could see the pain behind his eyes. “My father told me he’d had several private conversations with your stranger, Kadesh, and recommended that we form an alliance with
his
family. That it could bring us unimaginable wealth. He said that between our two tribes we could rule the desert between Damascus all the way to Sheba and beyond.”

“How did he plan to accomplish this?” I replied, struggling to hide my surprise.

“He told me the idea came to him the night I fought Kadesh in our little sword competition. He said if you and Kadesh married it would be an automatic union between our two tribes. He would appoint me as Kadesh’s general, but that you and he would rule as king and queen.”

“What?” I was so taken aback I nearly fell over. My mind whirled with this new information. “And—and did he speak with Kadesh about this?”

“He’d been deliberating the idea for weeks and making his plans. He intended to begin talks and negotiations when Kadesh returned.”

“So that’s why—that’s why—” I couldn’t even speak.

Horeb’s lips became a sneer, and his face bore a sheen of sweat in the dark tent. “I told him I wouldn’t let him. That
I
would marry you before the stranger returned. The leadership and kingship rightfully belonged to me. To
me
! I’ve fought for it, nearly died for it, and killed my brother for it.”

There was a burning in my chest as I listened to Horeb’s devastating and shocking words. After all the guilt he’d suffered over Zenos, and the plans he’d been making to forge other desert treaties and protect our tribe . . . and then to hear his own father tell him he wasn’t good enough. That he would dare to give the tribe to me and Kadesh in order to form a bold and brilliant alliance, virtually throwing away his son in the process. No wonder Horeb was wild with resentment over Kadesh and wanted him dead.

“We fought and argued for hours—”

“And you were drunk,” I interrupted, pointing to Horeb’s blade.

He gave a short laugh. “My father was a fool to confide his plans. He thought I would just bend to his will and let him give my throne to someone else. Well, he was wrong! He was wrong and I am right!”

“You killed your own father,” I said, the blood in my veins curdling like rancid yogurt. “Just like you left Zenos, your beloved brother, to die.”

“How does blood on my knife prove anything? Who is to say it’s not the blood of a hyena?”

“There isn’t a dead animal anywhere near your tent,” I retorted as I brought out the finely shaped clay mug from my pocket. “But there
is
a cup filled with a sleeping draft so you could come in here undetected and kill him while he slept in his own bed.”

Horeb’s arrogance died and his black eyes turned to stone, just like his heart.

“And
you
are here at the scene of the crime,” I went on. “I am witness to the noises of the night as well as the sight of your father lying on his bed in a puddle of still-warm blood. I have the cup. And I’ve seen your knife with my own eyes.”

“You are here, too. Holding the cup.” Horeb’s voice was calculating and terrible. “You will be next, Jayden—unless you do exactly as I say.”

“If you kill me, everyone will know. It won’t be hard to deduce what happened here. Two dead bodies in your tent, with wounds that match your knife.”

He gave me a mild sneer, still arrogant about his position in the tribe. More so now that Abimelech was dead. I was the only one who knew the truth. And that was the most dangerous position of all to find myself in. “I don’t need to kill you right now, Jayden. But someday, after we are married and I’ve been given the tribal staff and crown. But first, I will kill the stranger, Kadesh, so you can never leave. I will own you, body and soul. Don’t doubt me for a moment.”

Fingers of panic snaked down my back as tears flowed from my eyes. “What does Kadesh have to do with any of this?” I said, trying to deflect Horeb’s wrath from the boy I loved. But I already knew the answer to that question. Uncle Abimelech had permanently destroyed what was left of Horeb’s sanity by telling him he would dethrone him and give the tribe to me and Kadesh. After the torture of leaving Zenos to die, Horeb would do anything to ensure his title and position.

“Your stranger is my blackmail against you. I saw you the night of Hakak’s wedding. I heard and saw everything. I could
have you stoned at daylight for infidelity. All I have to do is say the word. Instead, I will take your silence. Your silence—or Kadesh’s death—and one day your demise as well, when I don’t need you any longer.” He paused and I felt his eyes raking over me. “I wanted you at one time, but you turned away from me, too.”

“Horeb—”
The pain in his voice was palpable. I fought to stay upright, knowing he could do everything he’d threatened. I had no recourse, nothing but his word against mine.

“It’s too late. Abimelech is dead, and I can decree what I want. Starting right now. I’m our clan and tribal leader by default as of this moment.”

“Please don’t do this!” I pleaded.

He tangled his hand through my hair, pulling back on my neck so that my face was thrust straight upward at his own. “Kadesh’s life for your life, Jayden. That’s all it comes down to. A simple decision. You were going to have to marry me anyway. We just do it now.”

My mind reeled with the horror of what he’d told me. I had to show this proof to someone, and I had to do it as fast as possible, before Horeb destroyed the cup and buried the pieces in the desert never to be found again.

“No, it doesn’t come down to that. I have this as proof of my witness!” I hissed, holding up the cup. Before he could respond, I shoved Horeb back against the tapestry partition, turned, and ran out the door. Cutting around the edge of the tent, I raced headlong down the rocky path.