He Who Lifts the Skies (39 page)

“You have been told the truth,” Achlai said calmly, standing in Nimr-Rada’s gloomy main residence, facing her Great King son, her husband, and the sadly bruised Sharah. “She is half dead. Her heartbeat fades. Lack of appetite, a fever, and the cough are killing her. Moreover, she doesn’t want to live. You must give her hope; send her to her mother. Perhaps she will recover then. If not, at least she will die in peace amid her family.”

“Her
mother?”
Nimr-Rada sneered. Achlai grieved at
his contempt.

Sharah frowned. “It would be just like Keren to die for no reason.”

Nimr-Rada glared at Sharah, making her cringe but earning her Achlai’s pity.

“The journey might kill her,” Nimr-Rada observed, disgruntled.

Kuwsh said, “She’s certain to die here, my son. Send her away.”

Nimr-Rada contemplated Kuwsh. “Yes, she is certain to die here, my father, surrounded by her enemies.”

“Give her hope,” Achlai repeated. Sighing, she looked from her husband whom she honored sadly, to her son whom she loved in despair. “Without hope, she dies.”

“You’re leaving me,” sobbed the child, piteous as she knelt beside Keren’s pallet. “My I’ma told me you’re ill and have to go, but I need you to stay!”

“Hush,” Zeva’ah scolded softly, shaking Demamah’s shoulder while preventing her from hugging Keren.

Her eyes filling with tears, Keren said, “Demamah-child, remember always … I love you. Don’t forget me.” She tugged a bracelet from her wrist and set it near her little niece. Zeva’ah snatched it, nodding stiffly toward Keren. Distressed by Zeva’ah’s coldness, Keren longed to protest. Instead, she coughed violently. When she opened her eyes, Zeva’ah had vanished, taking Demamah with her.

Meherah hugged Keren, unafraid of her illness. “Be well, Lady,” she urged. Beneath her breath, she added, “Remember my Lawkham, he loved you.”

Dear Lawkham
. Keren grieved silently, clutching Meherah’s arm.

Nimr-Rada was wearing the gift Keren had given him: the blade fashioned of bone, rich in hunting scenes, ornate leopards, lions, and bulls with fiery red-stoned eyes. Imperious, he stood in her courtyard, watching as her retainers lifted her pallet to carry her away. Sharah wasn’t with him, but no doubt Sharah was glad to be rid of her—and Revakhaw. To Keren’s surprise, Nimr-Rada had given Revakhaw permission to leave with her.

Now he frowned at them, making Revakhaw bow her head fearfully. “You will return to the Great City within the year,” he commanded.

I would rather die
, Keren thought feebly. She was relieved when her attendants covered her face to hide her from the curious stares of the citizens outside. She hoped never to see Nimr-Rada again.

This was too easy
, Zehker thought as they walked through fields, away from the Great City. Surely Nimr-Rada would change his mind and send messengers to retrieve Keren and her household. Yet the simplest plans were often the most successful. And this plan had been wonderfully simple—using the heartfelt pleas of the two women Nimr-Rada trusted: Meherah, who had adored Nimr-Rada in
their youth, and Achlai, Nimr-Rada’s sadly devoted mother. Zehker silently blessed both women but grieved that Meherah and his adoptive family had to remain in the Great City.

Slowing his pace, Zehker walked alongside Keren’s pallet, which was carried by Erek and three other horsemen-guards designated by Nimr-Rada. One of these guards was Ethniy, whom Keren had saved from Nimr-Rada. The other two were Becay—an arrogant young man—and Abdiy, who was suspicious and tight-lipped. These four guardsmen disliked each other and hated Zehker, who was their superior. Ignoring them, Zehker studied Keren, whose face was now uncovered.

Her skin was gray, her lips chapped by illness, and her eyelids were closed in her hollowed face. But she was alive. Satisfied, Zehker coldly outstared her four guards, then strode ahead to think. He wanted Keren to recover before the end of their journey and to ride and use her weapons to defend herself if necessary.

Let her be well
, Zehker begged Him, whose Presence lingered in Zehker’s soul.

Forget Him
, Nimr-Rada and Ra-Anan had commanded Zehker as a boy.

How?
He had tried. And thankfully, he had failed.

A week into their journey, Keren walked unsteadily through her household encampment, supported by Revakhaw. They stopped to rest and gaze at the red-violet sunset. Disconsolate, Revakhaw said, “If you live, Lady, then I will live.”

Keren sighed. “If we live, I pray you laugh again
someday.”

“How can you pray such a thing? In fact, how can you still pray?” Revakhaw asked, sounding wounded.

“If I do not pray, I die.”

Revakhaw helped Keren back to her pallet near the evening fire. As Keren sank gratefully onto her fleece coverlets, Revakhaw whispered, “How can I ever laugh again?”

Squeezing her friend’s hand, Keren whispered back, “If you don’t laugh someday, then He-Who-Lifts-the-Skies has killed your soul. He’s won.”

Revakhaw stiffened, her dark eyes glittering hard in the firelight.

Exhausted, but pleased by Revakhaw’s show of spirit, Keren shut her eyes.

In the long weeks following, as they neared the mountains, Keren forced herself to eat. She was determined to walk, to ride, and to not burden others with caring for her. Zehker encouraged her, each day challenging her to do a little more.

Finally, the evening before they were to enter the mountains—now tantalizingly close—he placed her bow and arrows at her feet and spoke tersely, before everyone. “You are still weak, Lady.”

He seemed impatient with her, but Keren knew he was pretending. Affecting equal rudeness with her Sharah imitation, she waved him off. “That’s not for you to say.”

Zehker inclined his head and departed to tend the horses. He was pleased; she could tell by his walk. Gladly, she picked up her bow and arrows.

“Of course you’ve lost no time putting us back into leather garments,” Gebuwrah complained, ruthlessly outlining a fleece with her flint knife.

“Why are you so upset?” Keren stopped working on her tunic, frowning at Gebuwrah. “Cloth is less practical here; you know it’s true. And you’ll be warmer.”