Banished (Forbidden) Read online

  “He suggested it himself when I told him I must learn sword-fighting. I need to be able to defend myself. I don’t want to be a helpless girl.”

  “You’re anything but helpless,” Asher said, admiration clearly in his words.

  “I just need to figure out how to get a sword of my own.”

  “Ask for one when you get to Sariba—as a wedding gift.”

  I looked at him from the corner of my eye and smiled.

  A group of Edomite horses swept past, their powerful leg muscles rippling as they galloped. Coats of black and amber gleamed richly.

  I stuck my dagger back into its sheath. “How can your steeds ride so hard and so swiftly for so many hours?”

  “We breed them to survive with less water during the cooler months. I promise they eat well each evening,” Asher added.

  “You also promised to tell me their story.”

  “We found the secret for teaching endurance in the harsh desert. We put the young horses we’re breaking into a pen, and then leave them there without food and water for three days.”

  “Three days?” I was shocked. “Surely, they would die of thirst.”

  “It’s worse than that. The pen is built within sight of a spring or a river. The horses can see the water. They can smell the water. So close, and yet so far.”

  “It must be pure torture.”

  “When I was a boy I ran away the first time I watched the horses ramming their sides against the paddock, screaming for water. By the end, the horses are frothing at the mouth, the whites of their eyes rolling. When my father finally opened the gate the young horses rushed down the hill, galloping like fiends toward the water—that’s when my father whistled and called them back to him.”

  My own throat burned at the thought of their terrible thirst after the brutal sun of three days. “Why would he do such a cruel thing?”

  “To see if they would obey his voice above all else. To put their love and devotion for my father above their own needs, even death.”

  A strange awe rushed over me. The desert was a cruel master, but forged a devoted reverence of its stark power to the nomadic tribes.

  “If my father takes the time to train well, the horse will turn away from the water and run back to him before they drink.” Asher wrapped a fist around his leather halter, eyes flickering to my face and away again. “If they can overcome their own desires no matter how desperate, they can be trusted. They’ve proven their worth. A horse more prized than gold or jewels.”

  “Or frankincense,” Kadesh added, suddenly at my side.

  “After enduring the test of obedience, our horses can travel all day during the winter before needing water.”

  A smile played around Kadesh’s mouth. “But you can’t eat them like a camel.”

  “You’re a tease,” I told him. “I’m curious. How did your two families become so close?”

  “My uncle Ephrem and Chemish met in the lands of Dedan during their early caravan days.”

  “Kadesh is like an older brother to me,” Asher said. “My father once told me the story of a time when he and Kadesh ventured through the Empty Sands. Rescuing one of my cousins who had lost his way on the final trail to the Sariba kingdom.”

  “I’ve never heard of anyone surviving the Empty Sands.” I stared at Kadesh sitting on his horse. There was so much more to him than I knew. The awareness left me slightly breathless. I was learning that the man I loved was heir to a powerful throne I was ignorant about—and a past of which I knew almost nothing.

  When we stopped for the night, my legs trembled after straddling Shay for so long. All the hot, claustrophobic hours I’d spent trapped inside a camel litter during my early childhood when I couldn’t walk fast enough to keep up made me appreciate the luxury of napping on a pillow once in a while.

  I hobbled Shay next to a stand of shrubbery. A lone Edomite horse was eating a patch of grass near an outcropping of rocks. Its leather halter trailed on the ground, and I reached down to grasp it. The animal gave a low whinny.

  Intelligent black eyes studied me, and the rich dark brown coat was silk under the starlight. I lifted my hand to its nose. “You are well taken care of.”

  I expected a skittish bolt from the animal, but instead she thrust her face toward me, as though craving my touch. Her neck was warm against my cold hands, and her back arched beautifully, unlike any horse I’d ever seen before.

  “You’re gorgeous,” I said when the mare nuzzled my palm.

  Asher spoke from the shadows. “Her name is Hara. She’s my horse.”

  I took a step backward so our fingers wouldn’t touch when he took the halter from my hands. “She’s splendid. I can see why the Edomites love and protect their animals so fiercely.”

  “I’m surprised you still think so after my story of torture, my lady.”

  “Please don’t call me that,” I told him lightly. “It feels very strange.”

  “Our customs demand I not call you by your name.”

  This was true. In different circumstances we wouldn’t speak to each other at all.

  “I could call you Princess,” Asher went on.

  “Oh, no! I’m hardly that.”

  “But you were to be princess—queen—of your Nephish tribe,” he said soberly.

  I squirmed. “You know quite a bit about me.”

  “I need to for Kadesh’s sake.”

  My eyes cut through the shadows. “What do you mean?”

  “One day you will officially be crowned Kadesh’s wife and princess of the Sariba lands—and then his queen to rule at his side. Since I’m his loyal friend and your personal bodyguard, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you both.”

  “I—thank you.” If he were younger, I could call him by his given name, but I was fairly certain we were close to the same age, which made the situation more complicated.

  I turned toward the hot fire crackling in the makeshift hearth and saw Kadesh had already set up my private sleeping area. There was food and small talk, but most of the men were already settling in for another early start.

  Every day brought us closer to my family, but we were headed straight toward Horeb, too. The idea made me wild with anxiety.

  Kadesh folded his hand over mine, pulling me close. “It’s my turn for the first watch. But you have only to call out if you need me.”

  I wanted to curl up in his arms and sleep soundly all night. I wanted to forget the threat of Horeb, forget that Kadesh had an unknown past, and that Asher and Laban were conspiring about something. The worries hovered, keeping me on edge, and I wished I could forget the world around us and start all over again. How utterly lovely to begin a fresh history with Kadesh. Erase our pasts as though they never existed.

  Perhaps when the trek to Sariba got underway at last, we could finally expunge the old and officially declare our new life.

  8

  After a week of hard riding, we came within sight of the city of Tadmur. Next to Tadmur lay the oasis, a shadow of darkness on the desert and a shadow on my heart. Horeb’s attack on me, the murder of Abimelech, the loss of my sister to the temple—these memories stole the blissful summers I’d had here as a child.

  My mind swept backward, like brushing cobwebs from the corners of the tent. I saw myself giggling as I chased after the new baby camels. My mother’s voice singing while she cooked and washed, my grandmother Seraiah guiding my fingers as she taught me how to weave at the loom. In the background of my memories, my sister Leila joked and gossiped with Falail as they pretended not to watch the boys polishing their daggers and stringing their bows.

  Lazy summer days. Pomegranate juice dripping down my chin. Competitions with Leila to see who could pick the most fruit from the date orchards and grape vineyards.

  Now my sister resided in the luxurious temple apartments, living the life of a priestess of Ashtoreth. The thought of her worshiping the bewitching idols of Ashtoreth and sleeping with strange men distressed me.

  The sky
bulged with stars when we approached the outskirts of the oasis. My eyes burned from lack of sleep. My body jangled with nerves at the immediacy of the city lights of Tadmur. Our arrival was a relief, but also mixed with dread. What would we find here? And could we survive the encounter with my tribe?

  Kadesh pulled up next to me, reining in his horse. “We cut our travel in half. It’s astounding you made this same journey on your own,” he added softly. “I’m more in love with you every day.” He brought my face toward his, so close his long hair brushed my cheek. “I believe we have spectators.”

  I sensed Asher behind me and ran a finger down his face. “We’ll just have to wait until later.”

  “Chemish’s scouts have brought word that we have three days before Horeb’s arrival from Damascus.”

  “Three days—that’s good, isn’t it?”

  “It is if there are no complications. If anything slows us on the travel south—” Kadesh stopped.

  I shivered with foreboding. “By the time we get Leila from the temple, Horeb could be only one day’s ride behind us.”

  Kadesh was sober. “If we have trouble of any kind, we’re doomed. Meeting Horeb in the open desert is not how I want to fight him. We need to at least reach the mountains bordering the Red Sea. We’ll have cliffs and caves to conceal us and from which to fight.”

  I searched his dark, beautiful eyes. “Why do you fear he could slaughter us? Our army is twice as large. What else is troubling you?”

  He pressed his lips together, not meeting my eyes. “We’ve learned Horeb has gathered more men to his cause. Not only the Maachathite tribe but the Adummatus as well. Just like the Maachathites, the Adummatus have been eager to grow in strength and wealth.”

  A coldness spread through me, and every particle of my being wanted to flee. “My father once said the Adummatus were born without mercy in their veins. Reveling in war to gain power. Why won’t Horeb just let me go?” I whispered.

  “I took his wife,” Kadesh said with a quiet shrug. “He can’t let me remain alive. Your knowledge of his guilt as his father’s murderer won’t allow you to live, either.”

  I breathed in, trying to focus on rescuing my family. We were here now. So very close to success. “What’s the plan you and Chemish have made?”

  Kadesh clasped my freezing hands in his warm ones. “We intend to surround the perimeter of the oasis, keeping two scouts in each direction while you sneak into the oasis to your grandmother’s tent. I’ll go into Tadmur to speak with the High Priestess and beg for Leila—or buy her if I have to. We’ll help your father pack and leave by nightfall. Tomorrow we go south permanently. We’ll make another hard push to widen the distance to give us more lead time. Remember, in Sariba I have an army bigger than Horeb’s.”

  Sariba was our only hope to come out of this alive. But the mysterious frankincense lands were three moons away from here. “The very air seeps with deception and betrayal. As though this day might be my last.”

  “Jayden, I can’t ride in with you and risk being seen. The Nephish militia has been ordered to slit my throat on sight.”

  I wavered on my camel. “Horeb left a militia at the oasis?”

  “We’re sending Asher with you. Because he’s young, we’re hoping he’ll be mistaken as a cousin. Just get to your father’s tent as quickly as possible.”

  Without speaking, I climbed onto the back of Asher’s horse, clutching the folds of his shirt to secure my seat. It was odd to be so close to the boy, to smell his scent, to feel my body against his. But his horse, Hara, could run faster than our camels, and it was safer to ride together.

  Kadesh kissed my palm, his eyes grave. “Stay together at all costs.”

  A shout came from behind and an Edomite scout rode hard, Chemish on his heels. They pulled up their horses, dust flying.

  “My lord,” he addressed Kadesh, lowering his scarf from his mouth and bowing his head to me. “We’ve just learned about a death decree for the princess of the Nephish.”

  I thought I’d be sick. “A death decree?” Asher reached behind him to grip my arm so I wouldn’t fall off.

  “Who ordered it?” Kadesh asked.

  “Either King Horeb or the tribal council—for crimes against the king and her tribe.”

  I pressed my forehead into Asher’s back. “For breaking my betrothal,” I whispered. “For running away with a man I wasn’t married to. For the death of Abimelech. All of it.”

  “You’re walking into a trap,” the scout added.

  Defiance rose in my belly. “I won’t be frightened away. We’ve come all this way. I won’t leave without my family.” My eyes met Kadesh’s and Chemish’s. “You know Horeb will hurt them.”

  Kadesh’s expression was determined, yet solemn. “All I know is, I don’t want to lose you. Not now. Not after everything.”

  “The Edomites will surround the oasis, correct? And there’s no sign of Horeb’s army?”

  “Not yet,” Chemish answered. He pursed his lips. “It’s up to you, Jayden and Kadesh, whether we go in or leave.”

  A heartbeat of silence passed.

  “We go now,” I said. “Quickly.”

  If I learned my family was slaughtered, I’d never have a moment’s peace for the rest of my life.

  Kadesh nodded once, a steely look on his face. I gave him a wavering smile, memorizing his eyes above the pattern of the rich head scarf wrapped around his face. He held out his hand and we locked fingers.

  For one brief moment, only he and I existed in all the world. And then Kadesh broke off and galloped away, Asher and I following.

  The morning sun fell onto the eastern hills when Kadesh turned east at the crossroad between the oasis and Tadmur, leading twenty-five horses and men with him. Another twenty-five galloped west toward the Damascus road. A contingent of Edomites had already gone north, and the twenty-five behind me and Asher would bring up the rear, guarding the southern entrance to the oasis.

  As we approached, my breath caught. Groves of date palms spread their thick leaves, encircling the pond. The shining water was like fine quartz glass.

  No one spoke. No sentries shouted.

  My pulse thudded in my throat. I could hardly breathe.

  Asher slowed when we entered the palm tree groves. Leaves rustled, cool and mysterious. I’d run through these same trees fleeing Horeb after he’d murdered his father. That moonless night caused me to lose my way, and I fell into the pond just before Horeb attacked me.

  When we skirted the water’s edge I tried to shake off the memory. The moment I recognized my father’s tent it seemed as though my mother reached out to grasp my heart in her hands. Waves of emotions deluged me. I felt her loss more keenly than ever.

  Cautiously, Asher passed another tent. The hearth fire was cold. The faint smell of smoke lingered in the air. A moment later we rode up to the back door of my father’s tent. I slid off Asher’s horse and tried to steady my legs.

  The sun teased the tops of the hills as though holding its breath, too. A nervous sweat broke over me. When I pulled my scarf away to cool my face Asher bowed his head in deference, but I tore my eyes from his, focusing on the task at hand.

  Creeping into the oasis on the edge between night and dawn was surreal. A place so familiar and yet so far removed from my heart now. An image of my mother’s hands rolling out bread dough appeared before my eyes. Distinctly, I could see the rings on her fingers. Her hair tucked up in a quick knot while she told stories of her childhood and recited our family history.

  I glanced about the rest of the camp, but the only visible sight was the shadows of sleeping camels. The smell of last night’s cardamom spice from the men’s hearth-fire teased my nose.

  “Go with God,” Asher whispered. My head whipped around, but his scarf was back over his face. With a quick nod, I lifted the rear tent flap and slipped inside.

  I drew a breath. My mother’s beautifully carved linen chest sat neatly in the corner. I stood in place to compose myself, and
then rushed to the chest, lifting the lid with both hands. My mother’s dresses and blankets and shawls still lay in neat folded piles. Her slippers and sashes in bright, embroidered colors. The veils she’d worn over her black hair. I buried my face in them to capture her smell, to hang on to her forever.

  The empty room felt strange, like time was poised in suspension.

  A sense of foreboding came over me and my hand went to my dagger. If my father was sleeping in the main room, my grandmother Seraiah should have been here in the women’s quarters. Had she gone away for the winter with Judith—or was she gone? I’d counted on my grandmother’s persuasive words to convince my father to come with us.

  Walking to the partition wall, I peered around the tapestry to the main room.

  Someone was asleep on the floor, the small form nearly like a child’s under the blanket. Before I could take another breath, the figure lifted its head. “Who’s there? Speak, or be gone! We don’t welcome strangers to the Nephish tribe. Certainly not in the middle of the night.”

  “Grandmother?” I rushed toward her and fell into her arms.

  Seraiah reached a hand to my face, her long, gray hair tumbling about her shoulders. Her knotted fingers traced my cheek as she wiped away my tears. “Is it really you, or am I living a peculiar dream? Perhaps I am awake and I’ve merely left this mortal world?”

  “You’re awake and I’m here. It’s really me!”

  My grandmother clasped me to her chest while tears ran down her beautiful, wrinkled face. “Jayden, oh my darling girl. I feared I would never see you again!”

  A swell of love and sweet relief overwhelmed me. “You look more beautiful than a perfect oasis rose, grandmother.”

  “Pah!” she spluttered. “Older, wobbly, and so wrinkled I’m sure I’ve turned into a basket of prunes. Come, the morning is chilly.” She lifted her blanket and I slid in beside her, holding my hand tightly in hers as we lay side by side, our faces close, tears running down our noses.

  “I thought you were dead, Jayden. Oh, the terrible tales Horeb told on his way to Damascus to enlist the Maachathites—and now the Adummatus—to join him. We’re no longer the same peace-loving tribe we once were when your mother was alive. My old heart is broken.”