He Who Lifts the Skies (4 page)

Impulsively, Keren ran for the weapon. She loved to run. It was the one way she could win against Sharah, who hated running. This time, however, Sharah actually kept pace with her as they charged across the cold, damp field. With a frantic burst of energy, Keren flung herself ahead. Seizing the spear with both hands, she wrested it from the moist earth, only to have Sharah knock her to the ground. Still gripping the spear, Keren huddled above it protectively, laughing as Sharah struggled to push her away from the coveted red stone.

“Let me have it!” Sharah screamed.

I can’t
, Keren thought, still laughing, hysterical, unable to explain.
You’re leaning on me, I’m kneeling on the spear, and my fingers are stuck beneath it
. At last, gasping, she yelled, “Get up; I’ll give it to you!”

“Your word!”

“My word, truly.” Keren’s shins and fingers were hurting, pressed hard against the spear. “Ow! Just get off me, Sharah.”

All at once, Sharah’s weight lifted from Keren’s back. Sighing in relief, Keren sat up. “I was going to give it to you anyway, since you want it so much.”

“But you won the race,” Eliyshama said, startling her. She hadn’t realized that he was behind them. He sounded cold, harsh—unusual for Eliyshama. “You won the carving, Keren.”

Keren looked over her shoulder at her brother. Eliyshama seemed irritated. Sharah sat on the ground beside him, sulking. Obviously Eliyshama had yanked Sharah aside to free Keren.

He meant for me to win this thing
, Keren thought, surprised.
But if I take it, Sharah will be angry
.

Smiling at him, willing him to understand, Keren said, “The stone is so pretty, Eliyshama, and you’ve cut and polished it so beautifully that Sharah is certain she can’t live without it. So she’d get it from me somehow. I only wanted to win the race against her. Here, Sharah.” Keren unwound the leather corded stone from Eliyshama’s spear and looped it over Sharah’s gleaming head. “Are you happy?”

“Eliyshama,” Chaciydah called from behind them. They turned toward her; Chaciydah was furious, her thin brown cheeks were flushed, her eyes narrowed. “Why have you set your sisters against each other? You knew Sharah was expecting the stone carving. Why didn’t you just give it to her?”

“Too much is given to her, I’ma,” Eliyshama argued. “I found the stone, I cut it, I polished it, and I corded it. But Sharah insists it must be hers, and you and Keren simply agree to let her take it—as if it was never mine to give as I please. I wish I’d saved it for Tsereth. But if
Sharah
is pleased, then never mind.”

Snatching up his spear, he said, “I’m finished resting. I’ll go help Father with the herd.” He started to walk away. But then he looked back at them, his eyes actually fierce. “Quit giving in to Sharah, both of you!”

I’ve never seen him so angry
, Keren thought, watching her brother.
He’s never been rude to I’ma
. Anxious, Keren cast a sidelong glance at her mother.

Chaciydah watched Eliyshama, stricken, blinking hard, obviously forcing back tears. At last she silently lowered her head and went back to work at the hearth.

Seeing her mother’s distress, Keren felt her stomach tighten miserably.

Still sitting on the ground beside her, Sharah gave
Keren a swift kick to her fleece-booted ankle. “If you intended for me to have the stone carving, then you shouldn’t have challenged me by running for the spear. Now you’ve made Eliyshama and our I’ma very unhappy. You should go apologize to I’ma.”

“I will. But you should go with me.”

Sharah looked away, fingering the red stone, unmoving.

Keren eyed her father nervously. As tired as he was, she could tell he was furious. He led her and Sharah outside to the cool, starry darkness. Stopping at the glowing-embered hearth, he said, “Sit.”

Almost as one, Keren and Sharah sat on the hard ground. Keren shivered, staring at her toes as her father paced. She knew he was choosing his words carefully because I’ma was listening from just inside the doorway of the lodge.

At last he said, “Look at me.”

Keren lifted her head and looked up at her father. But Meshek was staring at Sharah; she had ignored him. Meshek slammed the butt of his herding staff into the earth directly in front of Sharah, making her jump as he snarled, “Look at me!”

Sharah looked.

Meshek leaned down toward Sharah, seeming barely able to control himself, though he spoke just above a whisper. “Every day, there are new problems! New foolishness! Fights, tantrums, rebellion, and doing as little as you can to help your mother! As if she doesn’t have enough to bear.” Taking a quick breath, Meshek eyed Keren now,
as well as Sharah.

“Have either of you noticed that your mother is not strong? She doesn’t need further distress from you—nor do I. Life is hard enough here without all these scenes from my daughters. Listen to me—and don’t roll your eyes, Sharah! After we’ve celebrated Eliyshama’s marriage, you’ll spend the winter with the Ancient Ones, and the Father of my Father, and his Ma’adannah. You will
work
for them. And if I hear of any shirking or rebellion from either of you, I’ll beat you with my herding stick—never mind what your mother says! Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Father,” Keren whispered. Beside her, Sharah nodded, her lips a thin, colorless line. Meshek stared hard at her. At last, Sharah lowered her eyes and fidgeted with the edge of her blue overtunic.

Sighing, Meshek straightened wearily. “Stay here beside the hearth until I call you. Don’t move and don’t fight, do you understand?”

This time, Sharah answered with Keren, their voices in unison. “Yes, Father.”

Keren thought,
An entire winter with I’ma-Annah, the Father of my Fathers, and the Ancient Ones, Noakh and I’ma-Naomi!
She smiled, delighted. Sharah gave her a furtive shove. Keren ignored her, focusing her attention instead on the high, glittering stars. In her heart, she wanted to dance.

There are no newcomers
, Keren realized happily, as she followed Meshek, Shem, Eliyshama, and I’ma-Annah through the temporary encampment. She recognized everyone. Most were from her mother’s tribe, among them Chaciydah’s brother, the rough-voiced, full-bearded
Ashkenaz, and his son Azaz, Tsereth’s father. But Meshek’s stocky cousin Metiyl was also waiting to greet them. He winked at Keren, making her want to laugh. Two of Metiyl’s adolescent sons, Yeiysh and Khawrawsh, were studying Sharah, who was walking beside Keren.

Sharah’s expression was remote, as if she were completely unaware of Yeiysh and Khawrawsh, and all the other young men who were staring at her.

But you’ll keep me awake tonight, telling me exactly what you think about each of them
, Keren thought, glancing at her sister.
You’re laughing inside. You love all this attention. Even so, it’s not your wedding day; it’s Eliyshama’s, and you can’t take this joy from him
.

Keren smiled at Eliyshama. He was splendid, clothed in new deerskin boots and a robe of deep red wool, beautifully seamed and belted with trimmings of brilliant blue. But Eliyshama’s fine new garments were nothing compared to his expression; he was beaming with happiness.
I’ma
, Keren thought to the absent Chaciydah,
I wish you hadn’t been too ill to come to the wedding. I wish the Ancient Ones, Noakh and Naomi, were here too. How they’d enjoy seeing Eliyshama today
.

The other young, unmarried men in the encampment were gathering around Eliyshama, exuberant, laughing, punching his arms, slapping him on the shoulders, and praising his composure. Eliyshama grinned, jostled his more boisterous relatives, and thanked the others for their compliments. Raising his voice, he called out, “How can I be married if I have no bride? Where have you hidden her?”

Still laughing and teasing, the young men led Eliyshama through the center of the encampment. Following Meshek, Shem, I’ma-Annah, and Sharah, Keren ducked
behind I’ma-Annah’s arm, content to watch the festivities from the shadows. I’ma-Annah hugged her, smoothing her hair as they watched and waited for the bride. Keren peeked up at I’ma-Annah, pleased by her attention. I’ma-Annah looked perfect today, as graceful as ever, her sleek black hair clasped with gold talismans, her pale blue garments delicately edged with white wool, impressive gold cuffs on her wrists.

You’re so beautiful
, Keren thought to her.
I wish I could be like you
.

Women’s voices echoed through the encampment now in a trilling, singsong melody, followed by squeals of laughter and the sounds of whistles, drums, bells, and clapping hands. Tsereth was coming, surrounded by her sisters, her mother, her aunts, and all her maiden cousins, who sang and danced around her as they led her through the maze of gray and tawny felted tents in the encampment. Keren clutched I’ma-Annah’s hand, forcing herself not to rush out and dance with Tsereth’s family.

“It’s hard for little feet to be still,” I’ma-Annah murmured, hugging Keren once more. “But look at your new sister, child. Isn’t she beautiful?”

Tall and imposing, her soft brown hair streaming down to her knees, Tsereth was radiant in a flowing, gracefully fashioned cream-and-red gown and brightly fringed boots. Eliyshama’s carved red stone rested at the base of her smooth brown throat, and her big, dark eyes sparkled as she met Eliyshama’s gaze. Eliyshama simply stared at her, obviously delighted and incapable of speech.

Keren laughed, enjoying the spectacle, until someone nudged her sharply in the ribs. She glanced over at the offender, Sharah, who rolled her eyes and pantomimed
her boredom.
You won’t spoil my happiness
, Keren thought to her sister.
If I have to, I’ll run over to Tsereth’s family and stay with them instead of you
. Swiftly, Keren looked away from Sharah to Shem.

Father of my Fathers
, Keren thought to Shem,
one day you’ll bless my husband and me as you are blessing Eliyshama and Tsereth today
. She watched Eliyshama clasp Tsereth’s hands as Shem praised the Most High and pronounced blessings and approval upon their marriage. As soon as Shem stepped back, Eliyshama kissed Tsereth, almost lifting her off her feet as he embraced her.

Tsereth’s family laughed and clapped, uttering tongue-rattling cries of jubilation. I’ma-Annah leaned down, whispering to Keren, “Go kiss your new sister!”

Keren didn’t need to be urged a second time. She ran to Tsereth, ducking around some of her cousins to reach her.

“There you are, my little bird,” Tsereth cried, bending to hug Keren. “I’m so glad to see you! I wish you could have come to visit me as soon as you arrived last night; we would have fed you sweet cakes and meat until you were so full you couldn’t move. Come, give me a kiss, then kiss your brother.”

Obediently Keren hugged Tsereth and planted a happy kiss on her cheek, then turned to Eliyshama. He was smiling at her fondly, and he rumpled her curls before sweeping her up in a quick, tight hug. “Now,” he whispered, “you can visit my wife’s sisters and enjoy yourself.”

Before Keren could reply, Eliyshama put her down and turned to greet Tsereth’s father, Azaz, who was tapping him on the shoulder, demanding his attention. Suddenly unsure of herself, Keren hesitated amid the crowd. A firm pair of hands descended upon her shoulders. Her
father smiled down at her. “Go play,” he urged, nudging Keren toward the unmarried girls at the edge of the crowd.

Shyly, slowly, Keren walked toward them. One of the tallest girls, Tsereth’s sister Khuldah, saw her and beckoned, her voice loud enough to make heads turn. “Pale Eyes! Why are you dragging your feet? Come here. We’re going to eat soon, and you have to sit with us. Where’s your no-color sister?”

“She’s coming, I’m sure,” Keren said, hurrying to meet Khuldah, so she wouldn’t yell again. Keren really didn’t mind being called “Pale Eyes.” It was Khuldah’s way of accepting her. But Khuldah’s loud, carrying voice made Keren want to run away to the shadows where she could hide from the frowns and lifted eyebrows of the adults, who were watching them.