Heavens Before (15 page)

Obviously less intimidated by Naham’s presence, Haburah pleaded with Yerakh, angrily. “Today of all days, Yerakh—”

He cut her words off with a wave of his broad, powerful hand. “Today of all days, you and Ayalah need to work and distract yourselves from this useless grieving. Now go away before I give you to Naham! Ayalah, go with her.”

“I hate you!” Ayalah cried.

“You hate everyone,” Yerakh answered, unmoved. “Go away and leave me alone.”

He turned on Annah now, grasping her shoulders through the veil, pushing her toward the settlement.
He will have me work the gold today
, Annah thought, dismayed.
If I make any mistakes, he will beat me
.

As she stumbled toward the settlement, Naham walked beside Yerakh, laughing deeply. “So, my friend, if your sisters make you angry enough, you’ll give me all three as their punishment?”

“Haburah’s the most troublesome,” Yerakh muttered.

“I’ll manage Haburah,” Naham assured him.

“She doesn’t have a marriage portion.”

“We’ll agree on something. But you’re sure you won’t give me all three?”

“They’ll cut your throat while you sleep.”

“I’ll tie them up at night before I close my eyes.” Naham sounded gratified by the thought of having so many wives at his mercy.

Listening, Annah felt faint. Frightened by the sight of Naham’s huge feet walking so close by, she tripped on her own. Yerakh steadied her, then shook her hard, saying, “If
this one didn’t have the gift of mimicking my work with the gold, I’d have killed her long ago.”

“You’re sure she only mimics your work?” Naham asked. “I’ve wondered if she really knows everything we do and say.”

O Most High
, Annah begged silently, barely able to continue walking,
save me from the idle thoughts of this wicked Naham!

Yerakh snorted, contemptuous. “I’ve watched her enough over the years. She’s incapable of true thought or speech. But if she deceived me in such a way, I’d kill her for that too.”

“If you decide to kill her, then tell me,” Naham urged. “I’ll do it for you.”

They both laughed, and Yerakh gave Naham a companionable swipe on the arm. “I’ll remember your kind offer.”

Sweating, Annah clubbed gold sheets layered between folds of membrane and leather. This gold had to be perfect; it was for Taphaph. Yerakh had not said so, but Annah knew he would send this gift of gold to Tsillah, Taphaph’s mother, as soon as it was finished. If she accepted the gold, then negotiations would begin. Taphaph would wear this gold on her wedding day.

And my life will be all the worse
, Annah thought.
Taphaph is cleverer than Iltani ever was
.

Annah paused, hearing voices from the path outside Yerakh’s workroom. Women walked by, laughing, then calling inside the lodge. But Yerakh, Gammad, Haburah, and Ayalah were all gone. Only Annah remained in the lodge.

You’re not welcome here
, Annah thought to the women, pounding the gold emphatically. How could they laugh, approaching a lodge filled with death? These were the mothers, sisters, and aunts of those little monster-children who had tormented Annah at the graveside this morning. Fuming, she thought,
I’m mindless. I don’t have to acknowledge their presence
. She heard the women giggling as they entered the lodge, discussing how they should arrange their gifts of food—which Annah would never eat.

“Well, someone is here, if you can call her a someone.” Annah recognized this voice as Taphaph’s—young, gleeful, self-confident. Annah continued to beat down the gold, her rhythm unbroken. She could feel Taphaph watching her from the leather-curtained doorway.

Another woman spoke, Taphaph’s haughty mother, Tsillah. “I’ve not seen her without that veil for ages. Truly, if she had any thoughts to match her face, she would be more beautiful than Haburah or Parah.”

“Ugh! Well, she
doesn’t
have thoughts,” Taphaph replied. “She’s a plain, stupid creature, and I don’t want to discuss her. Let’s go find Ayalah and Haburah.”

“But what will you do if you marry Yerakh?” Tsillah demanded. “That Annah-creature lives here too.”

“She’ll have to live somewhere else,” Taphaph declared.

In her thoughts, Annah could almost see Taphaph tossing back her long, thick hair, certain of her power over Yerakh.

Tsillah spoke, impatient with her daughter. “If Yerakh has managed to train her to work the gold, then you could train her to pound spices and grains. She could be useful to you.”

Annah grimaced, trying to imagine being useful to Taphaph. Pressing her lips together firmly, she shifted the club between her hands and continued the rhythm of beating the gold, her thoughts chanting,
bride-gold-for-Taph-aph, bride-gold-for-Taph-aph
.

As she worked, she could hear children screeching in the main room of the lodge. Men were arriving now also: Yerakh, Naham, K’nan. Annah could hear them arguing.

Marriage portions
, she told herself.
What else could they be discussing? I don’t want to hear it. But the mother of my beloved will arrive before too long. I should go into the main room; she will want to see that I’m safe
.

Wearied, dreading the evening, Annah set her club down next to the bride-gold, then pulled her veil over her head. She slipped into the main room of the lodge and settled against the wall, not far from the men.

Gammad joined their circle. Belligerent, he faced Yerakh. “You’ll have to hire another man to tend your herds and plow your fields. I can’t do it all myself. And if Haburah and Ayalah marry and leave, you’ll need to hire two more men.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything,” Yerakh answered harshly. “And I don’t need you to tell me what I will and won’t do!”

Gammad’s eyes kindled dangerously. “One day, Yerakh, you’ll have to listen to me. You’ll have to listen to all of us!”

Yerakh grabbed him by the throat, but Naham asked. “Yerakh, do you want to kill your only workman?”

Furious, Yerakh released Gammad and sat back, glaring. Gammad gave him look for look, while Annah held her breath. At last, Gammad looked downward in reluctant submission. Yerakh still held power over him.

Now Taphaph approached Yerakh, smiling. Her skin, hair, and eyes shimmered in the filtered afternoon light. She fanned herself delicately with her hands, then pulled her glossy black hair away from her neck, her movements graceful, lingering.

The men all stared at her, but Taphaph’s smiles were for Yerakh alone. “Tell me that you’re finished arguing, Yerakh, please. I want to sit near you, but my mother won’t let me if she thinks you’re going to fight.”

“We’ve finished arguing,” Yerakh told her, suddenly smiling and genial.

Taphaph knelt beside Yerakh, sure of herself. Yerakh reached behind her back with sly, secretive fingers and began stroking and caressing her hair.

Annah was disgusted. They acted as if this were a marriage feast instead of a mourning feast. A soft murmur arose from the others. Annah presumed it was in response to Taphaph’s flirtation—until she looked up and saw the mother of her beloved entering the lodge, carrying an intricate oblong basket heaped with grain cakes.

Her graying hair rich and heavy with gold talismans, she moved quietly through the crowd and set her basket on the mats with the other dishes brought by the women of the settlement. Everyone was watching her, but she seemed oblivious to them all. She straightened, completely dignified, her hands clasped respectfully, displaying a fine pair of matching gold cuffs on her wrists. Turning toward the seat of honor, held by Yerakh, she said in calm, carrying tones, “Yerakh of the Lodge of the Tsaraph. I am Naomi of Those-Who-Carve-Wood. We live north and west of the boundaries of your settlement.”

Naomi
, Annah thought, clinging to this bit of information.

Yerakh inclined his dark head. Naham, K’nan, and Gammad all moved away, allowing her to approach. Taphaph, however, stayed beside Yerakh. He frowned slightly, focused on the elaborate gold cuffs adorning Naomi’s wrists. At last he said, “Welcome. How do you know me?”

“My family was acquainted with your father,” she answered, lifting one dark eyebrow.

Annah caught her breath at this; it was precisely the way her beloved lifted his eyebrow when questioning her at the river.

Naomi continued, saying, “I have come to express my sorrow for the death of your mother.”

“How do you know she’s dead?” Yerakh demanded, astonished, almost rude.

“There are ways of knowing,” she told him firmly, her tone allowing no questions or doubts. “I also wish to conduct business with you before all these witnesses, though I ask your forgiveness for speaking of it, today of all days. This will be my only chance to meet with you, and I must have your answer immediately.”

Yerakh studied her, then indicated one of the mats set before him. Naomi knelt formally, her hands calmly folded in her lap. As if remembering his manners, Yerakh straightened, his tone cool, polite. “Will you have something to eat?”

“Two of my sons are waiting for me; we have only a short time to conclude our business,” she answered, her words soothing. “I do not wish to offend you.”

Yerakh turned, glaring at Haburah. Ducking her head obediently, Haburah selected a small dish of dry grain cakes and brought them forward. Annah held her breath, wondering if the mother of her beloved would refuse this
offering of food; to accept food in the house of a stranger was to acknowledge peace between host and guest. Naomi smiled politely at Haburah and took a grain cake. They watched as she broke off an edge of the cake and ate it, accepting Yerakh’s courtesy. Annah relaxed slightly.

Finished with her piece of grain cake, the mother of her beloved straightened, purposeful again. “I have come to ask you for one of your sisters; my second son has seen her and desires to have her as his wife.”

Annah’s heart pounded hard and fast. It was difficult to keep still; her hands were sweating. As she expected, Yerakh frowned. “You’ll have to tell your son to look for a wife elsewhere. My sisters have no marriage portions.”

Waving one dismissive hand, her gold wrist-cuff glittering, catching light, Naomi said, “It is not our custom to accept marriage portions. My son has seen your sister and he desires to have her as his wife. He asked me to offer you five hundred of his finest animals and half the grain from his fields for this year.”

Yerakh sat back, visibly stunned. There was not a sound in the lodge; every member of the settlement was trying to absorb the shock of having one of their most basic customs overturned by a stranger. Yerakh shook his head as if he did not understand. Carefully, he asked, “Your son is willing to pay five hundred of his finest animals, and half his harvest, for one of my sisters?”

He looked at Haburah and Ayalah, who were staring at their guest, speechless. Annah gaped beneath her veil, unable to believe what she was hearing.

Naomi waited patiently, watching Yerakh. As if to encourage him, she said, “My son has harvested and threshed his grain; it is ready to be used.”

Yerakh swallowed. Annah shut her eyes, feeling his
greed. To offer a man grain, already gathered and threshed, was to offer him ease. Grain was the basis of every meal, difficult to raise, more satisfying than the sweetest fruits or beans. She could only think of all the days her beloved had worked in his fields, sweating, fighting the thorns and his own weariness to gather his harvest, merely to offer half of it to Yerakh for her. Annah longed to protest against this sacrifice.

“He measured out the containers this morning,” said the mother of her beloved. “His brothers had to help him; the grain fills two handcarts.”

Yerakh stared. “Why should he offer this much?”

“Because our fields have prospered and he wants a wife.”

Glancing at Taphaph, then at his sisters, Yerakh smiled. “I accept. But which of my sisters could be worth all this?”

“The veiled one.”

Yerakh’s smile faded. Like a man condemned, he said, “Your son won’t want her; she cannot speak.”

“Then she cannot argue. And my son will have peace in his lodge. As for myself, I say if she can bear him children, then nothing else matters.”

Naham growled at Yerakh. “Fool! Accept her terms!”

Everyone laughed, and Yerakh smiled, obviously enjoying the conspiratorial looks of all his family and friends. “I accept.”

Annah clenched her hands in her lap, overcome, struggling to maintain her composure.

Naomi stood, dignified. “My sons will bring the herds and grain throughout the day tomorrow. Have her ready tomorrow evening.” As if remembering something trivial, she said, “Please, forgive us. This is a place of mourning.
We do not expect a wedding feast; it would be inappropriate. And your sister should bring only what she can carry in her arms. Nothing more.”

Inclining her head respectfully to Yerakh, and to all present, she departed. Annah watched her go, as stunned as everyone else.
I don’t believe this
, she thought, numbed.
This did not happen
. She felt everyone staring at her now, trying to see her in the shadows. Their sudden interest terrified her.
Be nothing
, Annah told herself.
A nothing-creature
.