Heavens Before (23 page)

“Don’t be afraid,” Shem whispered. “I won’t leave you alone with them. But they’ve seen us now, and it’s too late to make them think anything but the truth.”

Slowly, willing herself to move, Annah reached for her bindings and tied back her hair. As Shem helped Annah to her feet, he said, “You have to speak to your sisters. Don’t worry about the sheaths, I’ll pull them out of the water for you.”

Still silent, Annah picked up her grass bag and the coil of plaiting. She hesitated, then walked to the bridge, keeping her eyes fixed on their faces, not their feet.
The nothing-creature-Annah no longer exists
, she thought to them and to herself. Haburah and Ayalah continued to stand and stare as if they were carved of wood. Annah wondered if they were thinking at all, they looked so utterly stunned.

Finally, Ayalah said, “Annah? You can’t be Annah.”

Annah took a breath. “Ayalah. I see Yerakh finally allowed you to marry K’nan. Haburah, welcome.” Unwillingly, she remembered her manners and said, “Please, come up to the lodge of my husband’s parents. They will be glad to welcome you.”

By now, Shem had pulled Annah’s bundle of sheaths from the water, and he approached. Haburah and Ayalah gaped at him, astonished. He gave them a long, level look and nodded briefly.
He detests them
, Annah realized, startled.
He can’t even speak to them
. Silent, carrying the dripping sheaths, Shem took Annah’s hand to escort her—ahead of her sisters—up to the lodge of Noakh.

Fourteen

ANNAH WAS aware of her sisters watching her—and Shem—all the way up the riverbank and through the trees. When they emerged from the shadows of the trees, she turned to watch their faces when they caught sight of the pen.

Haburah stared at the vast wooden structure without comment, her graceful profile unmoving, but Ayalah laughed. Haburah shoved her, snarling, “Shut up!”

“Don’t push me!” Ayalah snapped, aggrieved.

Annah bit her lip, her anxieties mounting. Her sisters weren’t even trying to be polite.

Turning to Shem, Annah saw his loathing. She tightened her fingers around his, urging him to look at her. When he glanced at her, Annah lifted her eyebrows, pleading silently:
Don’t be angry
. She needed him to be calm, to steady her own unsettled emotions. He smiled
somberly, then lifted her hand, kissing her fingertips. Annah felt her sisters staring, fixated on his gesture of love. She doubted that K’nan was often tender with Ayalah, and knew that the best Haburah could expect was an occasional snort of condescending approval from Naham.

You’re furious with me now, Haburah
, Annah thought.
I can feel your rage. I think you want to tear my hair out
.

By the time they reached the lodge, Noakh and Naomi were waiting in the doorway, their expressions formal and courteous. Noakh took the bundle of damp sheaths from Shem, saying, “I’ll put these in the storage room, my son, while you go wash.” As he spoke, Noakh gave Shem’s bare torso an oblique look, silently implying that Shem also should cover himself with a fresh tunic.

Shem nodded, but Annah knew he was reluctant to leave. She pressed his hand gently to reassure him. He responded by kissing her cheek and running a light hand over her bound hair before he left the main room. Again, he did not look at her sisters, but they watched him leave—Ayalah’s glance frankly appraising and admiring.

When her sisters turned toward her, Annah saw their unspoken accusations. She did not smile.
This isn’t what you expected, is it, my sisters? You thought it would be amusing to come visit your nothing-creature sister, so you could laugh at her later. Instead you realize that I am happy here, and you are furious
.

Reluctantly clearing her throat, Annah turned to Noakh and Naomi. “These are my sisters, Haburah, wife of Naham the Iron-breaker, and Ayalah, wife of K’nan, the tradesman.”

Noakh smiled at Haburah and Ayalah. “Welcome. Forgive me, but I’ll put these sheaths away before I sit down to visit with you.” He dropped the bundle of sheaths inside the storage room, then returned, pausing
briefly to peer behind Methuwshelakh’s screen.

By Noakh’s quiet expression, Annah knew the ancient man was asleep.
Please, let him stay asleep
, Annah prayed. If Methuwshelakh met Haburah and Ayalah, he would probably mention the gold and tools Annah had brought from the lodge of the Tsaraph. Then her sisters would tell Yerakh.
I would be dead by the end of the day
, Annah thought, her stomach tightening.

“Daughter, please, come sit down,” Naomi said to Annah. “And you, Haburah and Ayalah, please.” Naomi indicated an array of finely woven floor mats, already spread and set with an assortment of fruits, cakes, and drinks. “Sit and rest.”

Seeming unimpressed, Haburah knelt, her hands folded stiffly in her lap. Ayalah was not so formal. She eyed the fruits and cakes hungrily—leaning forward until Haburah elbowed her in an unspoken rebuke. Furious, Ayalah glared at Haburah. “Stop!”

Annah bit her lip, embarrassed by their rudeness. Mindful that she was expected to offer food to her guests, Annah knelt near Haburah and warily offered her a dish of fine grain cakes. Haburah took one, broke off a piece, and nibbled it disdainfully. Ayalah followed her lead. Annah felt Haburah’s bad temper and Ayalah’s peevishness. If they behaved at all, it would only be out of deference to Noakh and Naomi—now seated to Annah’s right, facing her sisters.

“This has been a long walk for the two of you at the height of the day,” Naomi said, pouring fruit juice from a plump, glazed clay pitcher into rounded, matching clay cups. She handed the filled cups to Annah, who passed them to her unhappy sisters.

Feeling obligated to speak, Annah asked the question
foremost on her mind. “How is Yerakh? If you both are married now, then he must have the lodge to himself.”

Haburah remained obstinately silent, but Ayalah smiled, her delicate face alight with a secret, malicious pleasure. Looking at Noakh and Naomi, then at Annah, Ayalah said, “I doubt you know, so I’ll tell you; Yerakh is going to marry Taphaph tomorrow. Bachown offered Yerakh fifty sheep and the use of one field as her bride price, and Yerakh accepted. Now Bachown is complaining to everyone that he shouldn’t have to pay a bride price because Yerakh has so much already. But Taphaph is overjoyed; she told me she would have despised any other man.”

“I hope Yerakh and Taphaph will be happy,” Annah replied, hearing Naomi take a quiet breath of indignation at Ayalah’s blithe, indirect insult to the Lodge of Noakh. Annah was equally offended, thinking,
What a wretch you are, Ayalah. You know that Bachown offered Taphaph as a wife to one of my husband’s brothers, and you just couldn’t resist cutting my in-laws with a spiteful little comment. If Noakh were as cruel as Yerakh, he would beat you and throw you out of his lodge
.

Now Haburah stared at Annah, embittered. “You haven’t wished me well for my marriage, Annah. Naham took me to his lodge the day after your wedding.”

At a loss, Annah looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. Finally she said, “I know you’re grieving, Haburah; I’m sorry.”

Haburah responded with a swift, vicious, open-handed slap to Annah’s left cheek. Annah cringed, putting up her hands to ward off a second blow. She heard Naomi utter a cry of fury and saw Noakh start up off the mats, then sit down again.

Hands—warm, callused, and protective—settled on
Annah’s shoulders. Shem glared at Haburah, his eyes glittering dangerously. “Don’t touch my wife again, woman! She’s suffered enough at your hands. You’re a family of vipers, all of you—it’s a wonder she’s survived.”

To Annah’s amazement, Haburah burst into tears, covering her face with her hands as she cried. Annah had never seen Haburah cry before, not even when Parah and Chathath were murdered.

Ayalah put her arms around Haburah defensively, saying, “She couldn’t help it. She’s so unhappy. The wives of Naham begged me to take her out today to try to cheer her up. But now, instead of being consoled by this visit … well …” Ayalah faltered. “If Naham had known that Annah was not mad—and that she could speak—he would have taken her as his wife instead of Haburah. Haburah can’t help being angry.”

Shem gave an abrupt, disbelieving laugh. “Am I supposed to accept that as an excuse? Am I supposed to be glad that Naham-the-Iron-breaker-monster would have preferred to abuse my wife instead? As for unhappiness, where were you when Naham caused Yerakh to beat Annah five months ago? In fact, where were the two of you when Yerakh killed your father before Annah’s very eyes, then turned on Annah and choked her half to death—and she was no more than a child! Who consoled her then?”

Staring at Shem, then at Annah, Ayalah lowered her eyes. “I didn’t know.”

Annah summoned her courage. “No one ever told you, did they, Ayalah? But then again, it wasn’t terribly important to anyone else. Yes, I saw Yerakh beat our father bloody, then strangle him and snap his neck like a dry branch. Then Yerakh grabbed my throat and told me not to say another word. He choked me until I lost consciousness.
I was surprised to wake up, Ayalah! Then I was afraid to utter one sound because Yerakh had threatened me. I was a child, and I obeyed.”

Ayalah swallowed, her expression squeamish. Annah looked at Haburah—who was now wiping her face, recovering from her fit of tears. Very quietly, Annah asked her older sister, “Didn’t you wonder why I never dared to speak? Why I always looked away? Why I hid beneath the veil? It was to save my life, Haburah!”

Infuriated by Haburah’s dark silence, Annah continued, “You’ve decided to be angry with me because you were forced to marry Naham. But years ago, you knew that he had asked for you. You could have prevented this. When Naham asked for me, I decided to run away before he could take me into his lodge. I’m sorry, Haburah, but you chose to stay in the settlement.” She paused, compelling the defiant Haburah to look her in the eye. “As for living in sorrow … for the past twenty-five years I was waiting to die, and you never once comforted me. Didn’t you care?”

Her eyes fierce, shadowed with tears and rage, Haburah said softly, “Ma’adannah, O cherished daughter of my father! O delightful one. Or so our father said. Ma’adannah!” Her voice rising, Haburah sneered, “I was
glad
when you stopped speaking, stopped asking so many questions, dear Ma’adannah! But now you’ve found your voice again, and all the questions are coming out. Well, I’m not going to stay and listen!”

Haburah stood and nudged Ayalah with one bare, slender brown foot. “Come. We’re leaving this lodge of the insane!”

Startled, Ayalah argued, “But we’re still visiting—we haven’t eaten yet, and I’m not ready to leave.”

“Oh, yes, you are!” Haburah reached down to snatch her sister’s arm.

Ayalah ducked away. “Don’t! I’ll come. Go on ahead of me.”

“Stay then.” Haburah turned and marched out of the lodge. Annah was relieved to see her go, but equally frightened.
Haburah will tell Yerakh everything she saw and heard here today, which means I am dead
.

Obviously ready to end the visit, Shem stood, helping Annah to her feet, then helping his parents to stand. Naomi was thoroughly distressed and silent, but Noakh was thoughtful. Curious, Annah followed Noakh’s gaze. He was watching Ayalah.

Annah saw that Ayalah longed to stay and visit.
I don’t want you to stay
, Annah thought to Ayalah.
But then again, my feelings have never mattered to you, my sister. You are nothing more than a rude child
. Unwillingly, Annah offered her sister a courteous but less-than-loving hand.

Encouraged by Annah’s polite gesture, Ayalah took Annah’s hand and hurried outside, forgetting to thank Noakh and Naomi for their courtesy. Even so, the older couple followed their guests out of the lodge.

Ayalah began to chatter, lightly, sweetly. “Ma’adannah, I never knew how much Haburah despised you! But where is Haburah?” She peered at the fields. “Never mind, there she is.”

Annah saw her stalking down the path toward the trees that shielded the bridge.

In her loudest voice, Ayalah called out, “Haburah, are you so eager to return to the lodge of Naham?”

Haburah stopped almost midstep and lowered her head, acknowledging the truth; she was not eager to return to the lodge of Naham. But she wasn’t willing to return to
the lodge of Noakh, either. Instead, she sat in the grass beside the path to wait for Ayalah.

Smiling gleefully, Ayalah said, “I always have to do as she pleases; this once she can just wait for me.” Pulling Annah along, she commanded, “Show me this giant’s box behind your lodge.”

In despair, Annah looked back at Shem. He shrugged and followed them. Before she turned the corner of the lodge, Annah saw Naomi run her hands over her face in a gesture of furious, tearful disbelief. Noakh took Naomi in his arms, soothing her. Annah could not bear to see her mother-in-law so distressed. Exasperated, she pulled her hand from Ayalah’s grasp.

Unaffected, Ayalah headed for the ramp leading up to the massive darkness of the pen. She talked all the way up the ramp, her tones honeyed yet disparaging. “This is unthinkable; why should that Noakh bother to build such a useless structure? K’nan said that the father of your husband has been a madman for as long as K’nan could remember. Does that Noakh really believe in the Most High?”

Annah stopped inside the doorway of the pen. Shem halted just behind her, grim and quiet. Unwilling to allow her sister to deride Noakh, Annah said, “I’d rather ask you a question, Ayalah. What do you believe in?”

“What should I believe in? Things are as they are. And Yerakh is right; the Most High is nothing but an ancient story.”

“But Yerakh believes in the Nachash,” Annah persisted.

“But the Nachash is real,” Ayalah countered indignantly, her wide dark eyes flashing in her pretty, childlike face. “She exists.”

“She’s an old woman,” Annah said softly. “She’s an old
woman who takes grain from Yerakh without payment. Have you ever heard of Yerakh allowing anyone to take anything from him? Particularly an old reed of a woman?”