Delilah: A Novel (35 page)

No. Samson prevailed because Our Lady saw into his heart and knew him for a good man. A man Aylah loved. A man who was kind to Aylah even though he had been deceived into taking her when his heart desired me—

Prince Sandarin stopped pacing and rounded on us. “Which is why we gave him that priestess. And let us hope that you do better at carrying out Ascalon’s will, and Bright Atargatis’s will, than she did.”

Hearing him speak so, as if Aylah had no name, no value, save as a playing-piece in his game, chilled my skin. Aylah had been right; she had been nothing to City or Temple but a useful tool.
A tool discarded when it no longer fit their hands
.

“Delilah will do what Aylah did not.” Derceto laid her hands over mine. “Aylah failed. Perhaps Samson beguiled her—who knows what magic he may possess? But you will not.”

“What did Aylah fail to do?” A heaviness oppressed me, a sense of impending storm. Suddenly I remembered Aylah saying,
“I wished to do as she ordered me. Part of what she ordered, anyway.”
And I remembered my sense that there was something Aylah would not say, some evil she did not wish me to know . . .

She was to murder Samson
. The answer fell into my mind, heavy and sickening as an overripe peach.
That is what Aylah concealed from me, why she was so certain she could never return home to the Temple
. All that had shadowed Derceto’s words like relentless ghosts formed into certain knowledge.
The Three Tasks were to have killed Samson. When that failed, Aylah was to murder him. Now Aylah is dead and they will send me to entrap him, because Derceto knows Samson wanted me all along, and will take me now without question
.

“There is no easy way to say this”—Derceto swiftly looked at the Prince of the City, her fierce eyes demanding he remain silent—“so I will say the words plainly. Aylah was to be Atargatis’s weapon. She was to slay Samson, but—”

“But she failed.” Prince Sandarin strode around to stand before us. “Now the High Priestess here tells me you won’t fail us. Is she right?”

Fearing to speak, lest I begin screaming curses at them both, I pressed my hands to my mouth.
Say nothing yet, say nothing until you are calm
.

“One thing more, Delilah. You must know that no matter what promises he may make, what vows he swears, Samson hates us and our gods. He demanded Aylah leave all that was precious to her behind, forbade her to carry anything from the House of Atargatis into her new life.” Pain shadowed Derceto’s face—or so I would have thought, had I not met with Aylah in the Grove near Sorek.

“Take this.” The High Priestess set something small and cool in my hand. “Look at it, if your heart weakens, and remember.”

I stared down at the twin of the coral amulet I had given Aylah. The amulet she had still worn when we met at the Grove. The amulet she had placed into my hand, that I might remember her love always. No one in the Temple knew I now held both our sister-tokens in my keeping. What Derceto offered me was a copy, a copy that must have been made before Aylah left Ascalon as Samson’s wife. Not a sister-token, but a lure to entice me, gain my willing aid in her plots.

Aylah’s ghost whispered to me, telling me evil it hurt even to hear.
“When I did not slay Samson, Temple and City schemed to bring him to their killing ground. Who revealed to my enemies that Samson had left us alone, unguarded, I and my babe?”

The Temple had betrayed Aylah, condemned her for her failure to commit murder. Aylah the beautiful, the sun-maiden. Aylah the sacrifice, who had always known how she would die.
In fire
.

As the High Priestess and the Prince of the City smiled at each other, I stared down at the false token in my hand. The little fish burned fire-bright against my skin. I closed my fingers over the amulet.
Yes, Derceto, I will look at this, and I will remember. I will remember that Aylah died so I would be willing to lure Samson to his own death
.

“Priestess Delilah? I asked if—”

“If I would fail.” Calm, I raised my eyes to the Prince of the City. “I will answer your question now, Prince. I will not fail.”

“You will be richly rewarded,” Sandarin said. “The Five Cities will be grateful, and generous. You need not slay him yourself, if it proves too difficult—some say the man has his god’s protection against blades and poison. Kill him if you can, and if you cannot, find out how he may be taken. Deliver Samson to us, and you may ask anything you choose.”

Almost, I said that I needed no reward, but I saw the greed in Derceto’s eyes and merely nodded. Let the Prince think what he would; let Derceto believe she would claim for the Temple whatever riches the Five Cities offered. I did not care.

Derceto was false, the world she ruled illusion. All I had loved, Derceto had torn from me. All that Our Lady had given, Derceto had destroyed.

My heart-sister. My joy in the Dance. My first bright desire when I looked upon the man Atargatis had sent for me.

All gone, and in their place, truth. Now I knew what I must do.
I will avenge Aylah, quiet her ghost
. A cold vow, set in the scale beside a hot desire to lay my hands upon Samson’s skin.
I will claim Samson, for he is mine
. Unruly passion, burning sudden and fierce as summer wildfire. Aylah herself had begged me to be happy. I forgot that she had also begged me to be cautious, distrusted fierce bright loves.

Our Lady sent him to me. Derceto cheated both the Bright Lady and me
. Suddenly I saw Samson’s face again, as he had looked up and seen me gazing down from the window. Bright as the sun, his eyes wide with pure awe and desire—

I would avenge Aylah’s death. And I would claim Samson as my own, for whatever span of time Our Lady allotted us.

After I left the High Priestess, I wandered, apparently aimlessly, through the corridors and courtyards. I let tears spill, wiped them with my fingers, smearing kohl over my cheeks. I did not care what path I set
my feet upon, for there was no place within the Temple that I could trust.

At first I had thought to go to the Court of Peace, seek truth of the Seven Fish. Then I thought of the avid gaze of the fish as the Seer-Priestess dropped seeds into the dark water, of their gaping greedy mouths . . . I clenched my fists; the twin amulets dug into my left palm. The Seven Fish revealed nothing, nothing but what the Seer-Priestess wished us to know.
False. All false
. Always, always Aylah had doubted—and she had been right. The fish were useless—

No. Not useless
. Swift as the fish after seeds, the words flashed through my mind.
Think
, I commanded myself.
Think as Derceto thinks. What is an oracle but the revelation of what the Temple wishes us to know?

Suddenly I remembered my desperate, foolish plea in the days before Aylah had been bartered to Samson: that I might ask the Seer at En-dor what the future truly held for Samson. I had not been given the chance to learn what awaited us all, for Derceto had already decided what was to happen. But now—

“Now Derceto needs you. And you can tell her anything you choose, Delilah.”
For a breath I thought Aylah stood close to me, that her voice whispered tart wisdom into my ear. Perhaps her ghost had come to me in truth, drawn by my love and grief; I never knew, for I dared not risk even a glance behind me, lest she vanish. And it did not matter, save to my heart, whether Aylah’s ghost spoke or whether my memory had summoned my heart-sister’s calm ability to pluck sense from passion’s tangled web.

Derceto needs me, so I can ask whatever I desire. And she will grant it
. So long as the High Priestess must have what only I could give, I could ask anything. I opened my left hand and stared at the two coral fish. By Atargatis’s Mercy, no one but I knew that Aylah had come to the Sorek Grove, that she had spoken her heart to me. That I knew she had still worn the sister-token I had given her.

So Derceto had told a foolish, unnecessary lie—a lie that served only to prove her evil. I did not need Aylah’s sister-token to remind me
of our love, and nothing Derceto said would make me act as a trap for Samson. But Derceto need not know that I would never betray the man who had been kind to my heart-sister, who had fathered her daughter. The man my heart knew Atargatis had sent for me . . .

I will tell Derceto that only at En-dor shall I learn how I may beguile Samson, how I may lure him into the snare the Five Cities prepare for him
. But that was not what I would ask of the Seer. I had my own desires that I wished fulfilled; my own future that I wished revealed to me. And I could safely ask whatever I wished, for no one ever knew what passed in the Seer’s cave save the petitioner and the Seer herself.

Unless the man or woman who had sought to know what only the Seer’s gift could reveal chose to speak of what had been asked and answered, it would remain forever lost in the smoke that stained the walls of the ancient shrine. Derceto would know only what I chose to tell her.

And she will believe you, Delilah. Tell them what words you wish them to hear. Order them to do what tasks you wish to have done
.

For the first time, I understood that the fear the Five Cities suffered rendered them vulnerable. Just as pride and arrogance led High Priestess Derceto to look upon all of lesser rank as mere players on her game board—and blinded her to their loves, and their hates, and their ambitions.

Fear, and pride. Two fatal weaknesses.

Fear and pride will force Derceto and the rulers of the Five Cities to believe all I say the gods ordered me to do. Fear and pride will bring them begging to my feet, pleading to grant anything I say the gods have asked
.

Fear, and pride—my new allies.

Any tale I choose
. . . Silently, I spoke to the only one in all the Temple whom I could trust.
Bright Atargatis, I vow by Your Love that I will free my heart-sister and her daughter. I vow I will unbind their ghosts and release them from the night winds into Your care
.

When Derceto’s chief handmaiden came in search of me, seeking to know why I had not come to Sunset Prayers, I was lying upon my bed,
weeping. I heard the rustle of cloth as Mottara pushed aside the curtain, the clink of anklets as she slipped into my room. I refused to move, to acknowledge the handmaiden’s presence. After a few moments, she slunk off again. I waited, but no one else came, either to chide or to comfort.

I rose, and wiped the tears from my face. No one had come to light the lamps, but that did not matter. I did not need light to comb a lock of my hair smooth, to braid Aylah’s amulet into it beside the lion’s claw token she had given me. The false token, the one Derceto had given, I bound with a red thread and hid among my lesser jewels.

Let Derceto see and hear only that I wore a coral fish beside a lion’s claw—a good omen, a sign I would be the weapon the Five Cities demanded. Derceto needed good omens now; she would believe it so because she wished to believe. Yes, and she would willingly grant what I would ask of her.

This time when I told Derceto I must go to En-dor, to find wisdom there, she would agree. And if she did not . . .

If she did not, I would say I could do nothing without consulting the Seer at En-dor.
And Derceto will believe me, for it will be the truth
. To learn what I must do to gain what I most desired, I knew I must ask at En-dor.

My journey to En-dor was the second time I left my home in the Great House of Atargatis, traveled beyond the walls of Ascalon the Beautiful. Unlike my first excursion, when I went to act the Goddess at the Sorek Grove, I did not gaze about in wonder and joyous anticipation. This time, I studied the landscape I was carried through, noting the twists and turns, marking where the road ran straight and safe, where tumbled rocks or tangled bushes might conceal danger. The way from Ascalon to En-dor was long, and I felt uneasy in my bones. During the day I suffered forebodings to which I could not put names. At night, when I slept, I dreamed that I walked the road alone.

I was not alone, of course. As was fitting, I traveled in a litter, escorted
by a dozen Temple guards and accompanied by two handmaidens twice my age. No one with any sense would hinder us upon the road—or so I was constantly assured once we left the highway that ran along the seacoast and turned inland, heading north to the hills below the Sea of Kinneret. I listened to the guards as they talked among themselves, gauging the risk of one route over another; they were not easy in their minds about this journey. They spoke of the danger of foxes, which seemed odd to me, for what danger could foxes be to an armed band of men?

“Have you not heard of Samson’s Foxes?” Bodar asked, when I questioned him. Bodar commanded the Temple guards escorting me, and as the High Priestess herself had given me into his care, Bodar treated me with more respect than my rank alone demanded. When I shook my head, he explained that bands of men roamed the hill roads. “Brigands, claiming Samson as their leader.”

“Do you not believe he commands these robbers?” I knew Samson would never condone the deeds the Foxes committed in his name. Aylah had called him kind and lenient, and almost too truthful. And I had my own memories of Samson: freeing my trapped hair the day I led the Sun Partridge Dance; standing patient in the Temple courtyard waiting on the High Priestess’s pleasure; smiling up at me where I stood watching—such little things, to claim my heart forever . . .

No, Samson would never lead such wanton killers as the Foxes. But I wished to know what others thought of Samson—truly thought, when no one stood nearby to judge every unwary word. “Why do you doubt?” I asked Bodar now. “Is not Samson the greatest enemy of the Five Cities?”

Bodar hesitated, as if trying to decide what I wished to hear. At last he said, “Perhaps he does lead them. Or perhaps he once led them and no longer does so. Many now call themselves Samson’s Foxes. Easy to claim, my lady priestess.”

“Yes,” I said, “easy to claim.” Then I thanked him and withdrew to
think over what he had said. Many Foxes now, all proclaiming Samson as leader.
He never ordered such crimes; he has not an evil drop of blood within his veins. But I know who would order any evil if it gains her what she wishes. How would these Foxes know when to strike at Samson’s home?
Someone had sent the Foxes that knowledge. Derceto. With one stroke, the High Priestess punished Aylah’s failure and gave Samson a reason to take revenge.
She laid all blame upon Samson, created out of nothing a madman who robbed and killed, who ravaged farmlands and destroyed peace
.