He Who Lifts the Skies (38 page)

They covered her completely with linen, then carried her into the predawn streets. Her sight was returning, but it was difficult to breathe or speak, and her heart was beating too swiftly. Her muscles twitched involuntarily and ached from violent spasms of nausea and prolonged digestive torments. She didn’t know where they were carrying her, but she was too exhausted to care.

After lapsing into a stupor, she awoke when cool air touched her face. Tsinnah, Na’ah, and Alatah were lifting the covering from her face. Their eyes were swollen, and they wept softly when they realized she was watching them.

“You’re still alive,” Tsinnah whispered, shocked. Zehker appeared behind them, shadowed in torchlight, cautiously studying Keren.

You’re alive
, Keren thought to him, relieved. She vaguely remembered hands restraining her in the temple and was now alert enough to be thankful that Zehker had obviously not touched her. But her fear grew. She motioned to Alatah, who leaned close to listen. “No one died?” Keren pleaded.

“No man touched you, Lady,” Alatah promised. A noise distracted her, and she hastily knelt, staring past Keren, then bowing abjectly with the others. Turning her head, Keren perceived that they were in the main room of Nimr-Rada’s residence. And Nimr-Rada was entering the room. Kuwsh, Ra-Anan, and several of Ra-Anan’s acolytes followed soon after, all of them uneasy.

Nimr-Rada stared at Na’ah and pulled a decorative flask from beneath his mantle. “You! This was yours?”

Na’ah managed a timid nod. Nimr-Rada thrust the flask at her. “Drink it!” As the girl hesitated, Nimr-Rada growled, “It’s just as you left it; I’ve guarded it myself. Drink!”

Na’ah drained her flask.

As she drank, Nimr-Rada paced back and forth, glaring at Ra-Anan before pointing at Na’ah. “Do you know what this cowardly girl did, Master Ra-Anan?”

“No, Great King,” Ra-Anan murmured, subdued.

“She diluted the tributes with fruit juice and saved your sister’s life! Thank her!”

“Thank you.” Ra-Anan inclined his head to Na’ah without looking at her.

“How did you know?” Nimr-Rada demanded of Na’ah. “Who warned you?”

“I … saw no one,” Na’ah quavered. “I heard a whisper in the temple.”

Accepting Na’ah’s excuse, Nimr-Rada berated Ra-Anan. “I have decided that you stupidly misjudged those tributes,
Master
Ra-Anan! I should make you drink them!” Ra-Anan flinched. Nimr-Rada faced Kuwsh. “Tell me you had nothing to do with this.”

Kuwsh remained proudly silent. Nimr-Rada turned from him and lashed out at Ra-Anan’s trembling acolytes. “You three prepared those tribute offerings! To whom do
you owe your loyalty? To me! Remember that while you suffer in the mud. And before you leave, I want to know everything you put into those flasks!”

So you can kill someone else
, Keren thought wearily.

Nimr-Rada cursed the acolytes, dismissing everyone. Kuwsh stormed from the room, followed by Ra-Anan.

Now, Nimr-Rada leaned toward Keren, staring hard. “Your eyes are almost their usual pale again. You will live.” Ominously he added, “I have dealt with your sister.”

Sharah visited Keren the next evening; her face was swollen and bruised. She scowled at Revakhaw, who sat beside Keren’s pallet, keeping Keren company. Keren expected Sharah to order Revakhaw away, but Sharah looked at Keren instead.

“He beat me because of you,
sister
. And he smothered the child and put its body to the flames rather than have me as its mother; he hates me so. Because of you!”

Keren gasped, dimly recalling the oiled-linen bundle Nimr-Rada had burned in the temple fire. Revakhaw wailed.

Alone, staring up at the stars, Keren rested against the wall of her house, too weak to climb to the roof and pray.
Let it be enough
, she implored the Most High.
Hasn’t Nimr-Rada caused enough destruction? Use me, I beg You, whatever the cost. I’m even ready to die, if that’s Your will. Anything to stop Nimr-Rada
.

Revakhaw was almost unconscious from grief; Keren
was frightened for her sake. And she longed for revenge. For Revakhaw. For the infant. For Lawkham. For everyone Nimr-Rada had destroyed.

I am Your servant
, Keren promised the Most High.

Zehker approached her from the shadowed gate, watched by Erek. She could feel his distress, his longing for her to recover. “Be well, Lady,” he urged, his voice dangerously close to tenderness. To love.

At peace now, Keren smiled.

Twenty-Two

SUPPRESSING HIS agitation, Zehker stood inside the gate, watching Keren. She wasn’t recovering. She had crept into the courtyard, then suddenly doubled over, coughing so violently that she hugged her sides and dropped to her knees on the paving bricks. Zehker winced inwardly, watching Alatah and Tsinnah lift Keren to her feet and help her inside. She didn’t protest; she seemed resigned, ready to die. Her lack of spirit terrified him. He longed to steal her away and hide her in a safe place—a place that didn’t exist in Nimr-Rada’s kingdom.

“She’s not getting better,” Erek said, leaning inside the gate, his narrow ferret face actually puckered in concern.

“She’s dying,” Zehker replied, amazed at his own calm voice. Wholeheartedly, he wished endless death upon Nimr-Rada and the others for reducing Keren to such a state.

“Perhaps you should bring your mother to tend her,” Erek said.

Zehker flashed Erek a dark look. It irritated him that he and this Ferret-Erek should have the same thought: Meherah might be able to advise Keren’s attendants on some treatment. She might also help Zehker to free Keren from Nimr-Rada’s grasp.

“I will,” he told Erek quietly, planning Keren’s escape.

Meherah knelt before Nimr-Rada in his courtyard, deeply distressed. “She struggles to breathe, O King. She can’t eat or walk. She has a fever, and her eyes are sunken. None of my remedies has helped. If you know of any other woman in your Great City who might offer some cure …” Meherah stopped, to cry and humbly apologize as Zehker had instructed. It wasn’t hard to cry; she was genuinely scared.

Clearly frustrated, Nimr-Rada pushed one dark foot at the lolling, speckled Tselem and tapped his flail against his own leopard-skin-draped thigh. At last, he reluctantly said what Zehker had hoped to hear. “I will send my own mother to speak to her attendants and to see her. Be waiting.”

Almost collapsing, Meherah bowed. “Thank you, my Lord.”

Erek bowed to Kuwsh, performing as his paid spy. “She is worse, perhaps dying.”

Now we can be rid of her
, Kuwsh thought, smiling.
I have to persuade my son in a way that he won’t suspect further evil from me. Or perhaps he
should
suspect evil
.…

Keren drank some broth to please Na’ah but shunned Gebuwrah’s bread, fruit, and meat.

Gebuwrah leaned forward, insistent. “Lady, you must eat! How can you recover if you refuse food?”

I won’t eat again in this Great City
, Keren told Gebuwrah silently, shivering with fever.
I no longer care what happens to me
. She was unimportant. What was important was stopping Nimr-Rada—a man who had willingly murdered his precious infant son and destroyed the lives of so many others.

Yet her household was endangered if she actively resisted Nimr-Rada. Wasn’t weakness her alternative?
Reveal Your will, Most High
, she implored.
Whatever pleases You …

Gebuwrah snorted in disgust and stomped away. Now Revakhaw knelt beside Keren, still mourning but obviously concerned. Keren clasped Revakhaw’s hand, sharing her speechless grief.

Sharp voices and a clamor outside warned them of visitors. Fatigued, Keren shut her eyes.
Let me die in peace
.

“Lady,” Meherah murmured, her sturdy clothes rustling as she knelt beside Keren. “He-Who-Lifts-the-Skies has sent his own mother to inquire.…”

Keren felt Revakhaw’s hand slip away and heard her retreating. Someone else took her place. Reluctantly, Keren opened her eyes, then stared. Achlai, mother of Nimr-Rada, neglected wife of Kuwsh, was truly here. Touching Keren’s face with one broad, cool hand, Achlai said, “Your breathing is harsh, child.”

Child
. Hearing this tender word, Keren almost wept. How could Nimr-Rada not adore his mother? She was so kind; her dark eyes shone gently in her calm, wide face. “You make me miss my I’ma,” Keren said. The effort provoked painful, violent coughing and left her shaking miserably.

“Will seeing her give you the strength to recover?” Achlai inquired.

Keren gasped at the thought and instantly coughed again. As she tried to catch her breath, Keren felt Achlai’s cool fingertips checking the pulse in her throat. For a long time Achlai sat quietly, then lifted her hand from Keren’s throat. Keren shivered.

Achlai tilted her dark, braid-bound head toward Meherah courteously. “Will you go tell the others that I’ll leave at once? I must speak to my son.” Then, before anyone else approached them, Achlai leaned down and whispered to Keren, “For the Most High!”

Stunned, Keren watched Achlai depart, now fully understanding why Achlai was neglected by her husband and son.
For the Most High
.