Garden of Madness (34 page)
Her mother embraced her.
For the first time in Tia’s memory, her mother wrapped warm arms around her, pulled her to herself, and held her tight. Tia circled her waist with her own arms, pressed her face into her mother’s neck, and wept.
“
Sshh
, little girl.” Mother whispered the words against her ear. “All will be well.”
Tia collapsed into this embrace, filling with a brightness that matched the stars and a warmth that beat back the desert winds. Cocooned in the faint scent of her mother’s perfume, the salted tears released the bitterness of years and replaced it with a sweet hope for the future.
When at last Tia broke away, it was with a confession of her own.
“I have not been fearless, Mother. I have risked only that which I did not fear to lose. But that has changed.”
She tried to share it all with her, to tell her of Pedaiah’s love and his One God, and the blessed freedom and joy that came with abandoning oneself to the sovereignty of this good God. But the words fell short of expressing this new life and seemed to deepen her mother’s anxiety, not lift it.
“What is it, Mother?”
“You speak like your father.” She smiled reassuringly. “The king. He had long been fascinated by the Jews’ Yahweh. It took effort for me to draw him back to the worship of our Babylonian gods before they brought punishment for his disloyalty.”
This was something to speak of at another time. For now, they must talk of the future. Tia leaned against the wall, studied the desert.
“Zagros leaves tonight?”
“His wagons have been loaded from the treasury, and he will slip away under cover of darkness.”
“There is no bringing him back? Promises to keep the secret of my birth?”
Her mother bit her lip and shook her head. “The truth is too volatile. Now that he knows it, he would not trust us to keep it quiet.”
“Shadir will force me to marry Amel tomorrow. And if he doesn’t kill the family before the festival, it will not be long after.”
“Yes.”
Tia broached the idea formed in the Gardens. “Mother, we must take the family, take Father, and we must flee Babylon.”
She was silent, her profile stony.
“Perhaps it will not be forever. But with no mad king to reveal, no princess to marry, no royal family anywhere present, Shadir will have a difficult time wresting the crown for Amel. Even if he succeeds, we will make our plans from the safety of Assyria, or perhaps Egypt, and we will come back stronger, ready to claim the throne. But first we must get everyone to safety.”
Her mother inhaled deeply, her face still set toward the desert. “I am afraid.”
Tia wanted to agree with her, to tell her that in this they were joined. But she could not, for in truth she felt nothing but excitement, nothing but a surety that she had at last released her grip on things that would never satisfy, to fight for what was truth.
Tia studied the bright and calming stars spread across the dark comfort of the night sky, traced their journey to the horizon of the desert, the desert that beckoned with safety and anonymity, and knew that her deepest longing was about to be realized.
She was about to change the world.
They assembled after midnight in the family chambers of the imprisoned Jewish king. Somehow it seemed fitting that this group of royal rebels would find common ground with those who had survived among the treachery of Babylon for over forty years.
Tia and her mother arrived last, entering the outermost room of the chamber complex together, the queen leaning on her arm as though she had aged a decade in this one day. They joined a small crowd already waiting—Pedaiah and his mother, Marta, as well as his sister and younger brothers. Daniel smiling in welcome. Tia’s sisters’ two husbands had also been summoned, though they knew less of the danger they faced than anyone, perhaps. They sat in clusters on carved chairs and benches, even the woven carpet.
The chamber was lit by only a single brazier, enough warmth and light for the room, but the single light source danced grotesque shadows across the whitewashed walls behind the group, a bizarre doubling of their party.
Daniel crossed the room at once and took her mother’s hands in his own, kissed her cheeks. “Your beauty is undimmed,” he said, still smiling.
Her mother’s lips parted, as though the compliment were unexpected. Had they been enemies when the king was whole? She tried to smile. “I—I am glad you have come. He always trusted you.”
“And he loved you more than Babylon.”
Another compliment, and her mother flushed with pleasure and her smile was genuine.
Daniel led Tia to a chair and she stood for a moment, suspended there at the fringes of the small crowd, their upturned faces glowing in the brazier light, a mixture of apprehension and bewilderment.
The mysteries of the past weeks had been clarified through the last evening. Amytis had been working with Kaldu to uncover Shadir’s plans, and he had been killed for the knowledge he gained. The method of the killing, along with the slave Ying’s, was meant to discredit the king, to blackmail Tia. And Shealtiel—he was merely an obstacle. All of it had led them to this night, to this secret gathering of those who would not be quietly pushed aside.
Pedaiah emerged from the gloom and reached his hand to her. Tia grasped it and would not let go, all her deep longing for him poured into that handclasp. She drank in his face, his eyes, that scarred chin.
“We are leaving, Pedaiah.” She whispered the words for him alone.
“I know.”
What would he say if she asked him join her? To flee Babylon, his family, his people? Her hand trembled in his and she said nothing.
“Come.” He led her to the group and she curled up on the floor at her mother’s feet. Somehow it did not seem that this meeting was hers to lead. Pedaiah sat cross-legged beside her, his knee brushing her thigh and his arm stretched around her back. She warmed to the familiarity but saw her mother’s raised eyebrows and felt a flush creep across her skin. From across the room, Marta glared.
Does she no longer wish me as part of her family?
It was Daniel who stood, Daniel who spoke to them all as the wise man that he was, who delivered the truth to those who had not yet heard.
“It is no longer safe in Babylon for the family of the king. The plots have grown thick and the danger imminent. We must find a way to remove you from the threat until it has been removed.”
Nergal growled, “What are these threats you speak of?” His face reddened. “And why do we listen to this Jew?”
“Nergal!” Her mother’s voice was razor sharp. “You would do well to listen. The king trusted Belteshazzar in all matters, as any future kings of Babylon should.”
She spoke of her grandsons, but it was no secret that Nergal and Nabonidus, Tia’s other sister’s husband, would have accepted the crown had it been offered. Nergal settled into grumpy silence, arms folded across his burly chest.
Daniel acknowledged Nergal’s outburst with a nod and an explanation. “As you know, in Babylon, the magi, above all else, consider themselves kingmakers. The mage Shadir has long conspired to put his own man on the throne. His young protégé, Amel-Marduk, is in truth the king’s only son.”
“What!” The news rocked both noblemen. Nergal lurched forward, hands on his knees, and Nabonidus stood and shook a fist at Daniel.
“It is a lie!”
Daniel’s small smile was patient, even kindly. He looked only to her mother.
The queen nodded once. “It is the truth.”
At this, Nabonidus kicked his chair and sent it sliding against the wall and Nergal cursed loudly.
“There is more.” Daniel’s words were soft but held authority. They all waited, hushed, as though they did not know what came next.
“Shadir wishes to amplify Amel’s claim to the throne by marrying him to Tiamat, who is not the king’s daughter.”
No shocked outrage met this announcement, only a silence that spoke as loudly.
“Shadir plans to reveal the king’s condition to the people at the festival tomorrow, and if Tia does not marry Amel—and I am afraid even if she does—Shadir will have each of the royal family executed to prevent any other bid for the throne.”
Nergal stood. “He’ll be in a brick furnace before dawn.”
“Sit down.” Her mother had regained some control. “You are a fool. Shadir has half the magi loyal to his cause.”
“The problem,” Daniel said, “is that we do not know which half.”
“Traitors!” Nabonidus’s voice was the whine of a child.
“Yes, traitors.” Her mother smiled grimly. “But deadly all the same.”
Nergal was unwilling to admit defeat. “We must fight! Bring the army down on the entire class of magi. Execute them all if we cannot be sure who will stand for us.”
“Your first charitable act as king, Nergal?” Amytis’s calm superiority, her blatant disdain, cooled his zeal and set him back in his chair.
Nabonidus remained against the wall, pouting.
Her mother looked to Daniel, giving up leadership to the king’s chief advisor, and it seemed to Tia that she gave it willingly.
The old mage nodded. “There will be a time for ferreting out traitors, Nergal. But you must act from a position of strength, not defensive desperation. And your first concern must be for your wife and son.”
Nergal clenched a fist against the arm of his chair and glared at her mother. “Why is this Jew telling us how to act?”
Her answer was pointed, obvious. “Because he is the only one with any sense.”
At this, her sister’s husband dropped his shoulders, sighed loudly. He was difficult, but he loved his family, this much was true.
Silence stretched for several moments as they each contemplated what was to come. The brazier smoked and the oily scent filled Tia’s senses.
“We must make a plan,” Daniel finally said. “And there is not much time.”
It was Tia’s turn to join the conversation. “I have been thinking.” Attention turned to her where she sat on the carpet. “I should proceed with tomorrow’s events as planned. The procession, the chariot race. After the races, before winners are announced, there will be time for me to prepare for the marriage ceremony. Everyone’s attention will be on the festival. We can make our escape during that time.”
“The chariot races again, Tia? Must you?”
The annoyance in her mother’s voice made her smile, where once she would have lashed back. “At least I have not joined the bull-leapers. Yet.”
Quiet laughter around the chamber lightened the mood.
Her mother shrugged, defeated. “There will be much to do in preparation. We must have chariots packed and waiting, animals ready. The children and their mothers. And—” She broke off, a storm cloud of emotion crossing her face.
“And my father.” Tia locked eyes with Nergal, Daniel, and Pedaiah. “We will take my father.”
No mention was made of her peculiar relationship to the king. No need to speak of her parentage again.
“It will not be easy.” Nergal was one of the few who had maintained some contact with the king over the years. “He is not easily influenced.”
Tia rubbed at her eyes, burning from the late hour and the smoky air. “I will have to be there. He trusts me. But I cannot do it alone.”
Her mother studied her twisted hands in her lap, her voice barely above a whisper. “Where—how—shall we—transport him?”
Tia grasped her hand. “Leave that to others. You coordinate the rest of the women and children and all that will be needed for our journey.”
“Journey to where?” It was Pedaiah’s entrance into the discussion, and attention turned to him in the shadows. “Where will you go?”
“To Egypt.” Amytis’s voice strengthened with the change of topic. “Our relationship with Pharaoh Amasis has been strong of late. He may not exactly welcome us, but he will keep us until it is decided how we will strike back.”
Tia watched Pedaiah’s face. Their journey to Egypt would take them through southern Judaea. Would a glimpse of his homeland be enough to persuade him to join them? A hollow thud of fear hit her chest. Even if he did, would he stay there when they crossed to Egypt? His expression was unreadable, and he did not look toward her.
They spent another hour working out the details. There were provisions to be gathered, decisions about how many slaves to take and which ones, treasury items to secure to pay for their passage. All of it must be accomplished in a single day, under the watchful eyes of the palace magi.
They stumbled off to their own chambers, staggering their exits so as not to attract notice from any who might still be prowling the palace. Tia lingered, hoping for a private word with Pedaiah.
When at last her mother embraced her and left the chambers, and his family disappeared to deeper rooms, they were alone.
“Something has happened.” He touched her hair, lifted it across her shoulder. “With your mother.”
The warmth of the memory brought a smile. “Yes. The truth is a wonderful healer.”
“I am glad. Glad you are reconciled. You will need each other in the days ahead.”
Because she would not have him? Tia cursed her lack of courage. Why could she not voice her questions, her desires? Did she still fear to risk when the loss might be too great?
“I do not know how long we will be gone, Pedaiah.”
“You may never return.”
It was said as a gentle warning, but still the truth was a blow. She chewed her lip, nodding. “We may not. I must be willing to face that sacrifice to keep them safe.”
“Strange to think of you crossing Judaea, where my family belongs. And my family here, where you belong.”
Yes, but where will you be?
“Perhaps your family will soon be able to go home. Everything is changing.”
He shook his head and set his jaw toward the window as though he could see his homeland from the tiny square opening. “The prophets have given us the word of Yahweh. Seventy years in Babylon. It will not be my generation that leads us home. Perhaps my son’s.”
At this, her stomach twisted, a tiny spin that affected her balance. She gripped his arm.
“Come with us, Pedaiah. You can see Judaea. We can be together.”