Between the Wild Branches Page 13

  Mariada let out a shuddery laugh, breaking the tension. “He certainly looks worthy to be the companion of the champion of Ashdod. No doubt he’ll be as famous as you within weeks if he insists on following you all over the city.”

  Lukio chuckled. “Perhaps so.”

  Amunet looked unconvinced, still glowering at both Igo and Lukio, and Tela excused herself from the room, my daughter clutched tightly to her chest and the nursemaid trailing behind. Although I hated to see them go, jealous of every moment my daughter spent out of my sight, I was glad that Tela cared enough about her to remove her from the presence of an animal she considered dangerous.

  “Come join us for a round of Hounds and Jackals,” Mariada said. “Jasara had beaten me three times already, and I am determined to see her defeated. Have you played before?”

  Lukio’s eyes slid to the board on the couch cushion between the two women, hesitating. “I have. Although it has been a while.”

  Regardless of the ten-year chasm between us, I read the disgust inscribed on his face with ease. A game like Hounds and Jackals would be far too slow for Lukio. His attention waned quickly during such activities, and more than once he’d insisted that we abandon games he’d deemed tedious during our times in the woods.

  Before Mariada could press her suggestion, Lukio made one of his own. “I must go meet with your father soon, so my time is limited. But what if I teach you another game instead?”

  Mariada’s eyes went wide with anticipation. “What sort of game?”

  “One I learned in the streets as a boy.” He went over to a nearby table, where a game of Senet rested on its brightly painted surface. Slipping open the small drawer beneath, where its game pieces were stored, he extracted a few dice and a handful of ivory tokens. I immediately knew exactly which game he planned to teach the two women. He’d taught me the very same one in a cave, using the sheep knuckle dice he used to carry about in a pouch around his neck and a small pile of acorns.

  After inviting the two women to join him on the floor, he explained the rules of the game, tossing the dice with a practiced hand and then snatching up the corresponding number of tokens. Before long, Mariada and Jasara were laughing as they tussled over the game pieces, playfully jabbing each other to snatch them from the ground, and to my profound surprise, Lukio was laughing as well, the rich sound burrowing into my bones and the sight of a huge smile stretched across his face and reflected in his entrancing mismatched eyes making my heart ache.

  How I’d loved him as a girl. He’d been my savior, my friend, my everything. And watching him now, acting as carefree as he had during our time together as children, made me admit that despite everything, the root of those feelings had never withered. It had only been dormant in the deepest part of me and then stirred up by those last impulsive moments I’d allowed myself to lean into him on the terrace. I’d told him we were strangers now, but no one had ever known me like Lukio, and I doubted anyone ever would.

  Although he still hadn’t looked my way and seemed caught up in the game that he was playing with Mariada and her sister, I had the sense that Lukio was as aware of my presence in the room as I was of his. He had not left me any more shells and I’d told myself it was for the best, that I was grateful he’d respected my plea to stop contact. But I could not lie and say that I’d not felt a twinge of disappointment each time I caught sight of the empty sill. Nor could I deny that hearing him laugh with Mariada caused a current of something akin to envy to course through me.

  A quiet whine from nearby jerked my attention away from their affectionate banter to find that Lukio’s giant dog had edged away from the raucous game of dice and was now hovering a couple of paces away from me, his paws restlessly shifting back and forth, even as his gaze was fixed on his master. But then he turned his huge head toward me, jowls quivering slightly, as if the noise of the game was actually making the huge beast nervous. No wonder Lukio had been distressed to see this dog pitted against well-trained fighters. The animal was nothing of the sort, even if his size and ferocious appearance contradicted all evidence to the contrary.

  Igo met my gaze with a timid but curious silver-eyed stare, his head tilting slightly as he watched me. Knowing I could trust Lukio that the animal was harmless, I forced my body to relax and breathed in slow measure, willing the dog to sense that I was no threat to him either.

  To my amazement, he took the last few steps between us, and then, after turning his enormous body around in a circle, dropped to the floor in front of me with a heavy sigh, his attention once again affixed on his master.

  Through the open roof of the courtyard, I noted that the sun had moved past its highest point, reminding me that Oshai had said there was only a small window of time to meet the man in the garden shed today. If I waited much longer to slip away, I would miss him. However, Lukio had now moved on from the first game he’d taught Mariada and Jasara another that I also remembered learning on the floor of his cave as he regaled me with stories of his wild friends in Ashdod. It was a complicated game, one that I knew would take a long time to complete and which had both women half-breathless with laughter. All hopes that Mariada would return to her room for a rest during the heat of the day shriveled, making me irrationally angry both with Lukio for coming here and with Mariada for stealing smiles from him that, had our paths never diverged, would be mine alone.

  Frowning at myself, I forced my eyes back down to my feet, wondering how long it would be before Oshai could arrange another meeting, or if an alternate plan would have to be worked out to pass on the important information.

  A palace guard appeared at the door, announcing that the king was now ready to meet with Lukio. With apologies to the ladies for interrupting their game, he unfolded his long legs and stood. Although I continued to keep my chin tilted down, only seeing him through my lashes, I saw the moment he noticed that his dog had taken up residence near my feet and began to cross the courtyard in our direction.

  Igo was sprawled on the plaster floor, eyes closed and his broad chest moving up and down in contented rhythm, but as soon as Lukio approached, he startled and lifted his head.

  Lukio squatted beside his dog, reaching out to scratch him between his ears. “Of course you would find your way to Tesi,” he said to Igo in a low voice that even I could barely distinguish. “Being at her side was always my favorite place to be as well.” His gaze flicked up to meet mine for only a heartbeat, but it was intense enough to make me reevaluate my insistence that he stay away.

  Then, before I could even dare to breathe, he stood tall and patted his thigh. “Come, Igo. Let’s go see the king.” The two of them left the room with nearly matching giant strides, leaving me in such a tangle of contradictory emotions that it was difficult to keep my expression blank.

  To my dismay, instead of taking her own leave, Mariada invited Jasara to play one more round of Hounds and Jackals, but one round turned into two, and then into four.

  “Shoshana,” called my mistress, after I’d finally given up all hope of keeping my meeting. “It is so hot. Will you fetch some fresh palm fronds and move the air for us?”

  Refraining from letting out a sigh of relief that she’d delivered the perfect reason to run down to the garden, I gave her a tight nod. “Of course, mistress.”

  “And be quick about it,” snapped Jasara, without looking back at me. “I’d rather not melt into a puddle while you dally about.”

  Used to her prickly demands, I shrugged away my annoyance. Even if it meant my arms ached for days, I would be more than happy to fan Mariada and her haughty sister all afternoon if it gave me the opportunity to stop by the shed on the off chance that my friend had waited for me.

  I strode from the room, eager to be on my way down to the first level of the palace, but just past the doorway, a hand grabbed my elbow, yanking me to a stop. With a gasp, I peered over my shoulder, half expecting Lukio to be standing behind me, but instead, Amunet had followed me from the room.

  “Take care,
girl,” she stated. “She may not be my daughter, but I warn you—keep your eyes to yourself.”

  I blinked at her in mute shock. She’d never spoken directly to me before. Everything about the woman screamed royalty—not the kind enjoyed by Nicaro, who merely governed over Ashdod and its surrounding cities and towns—but the kind that ruled the entirety of Egypt for thousands of years. It was more than evident that although she was the daughter of a minor ambassador to Philistia, the blood of dynasties flowed within her.

  “The only reason that child remains in this palace is because Tela begged for it. But I won’t hesitate to replace it with another if need be. It would only take one word to Virka and that little abomination would be on the rocks.”

  Her threat confirmed my guess that Tela’s husband still thought my child had come from his wife’s womb but also caused suffocating terror like I hadn’t felt since the day Beth Shemesh fell.

  “So, keep your greedy eyes off both the baby and the champion. I care nothing for what that brute does with you after he and Mariada wed, but I won’t countenance my husband being made a fool by the machinations of a Hebrew slave. Do you hear me?”

  I nodded, knowing that Amunet did not threaten idly. Somehow she’d suspected a connection between Lukio and me, and thought I was making an attempt to steal him from my mistress. Also, from the way she sneered the word Hebrew, I sensed that she harbored a deep hatred for my people. But there was an edge of menace in Amunet’s voice that suggested something much more personal.

  The queen spun about, her intricately braided hair sparkling with gems and silver beads as she strode away from me and back into the courtyard. But far from accomplishing what she’d meant to by her threats, her words had only strengthened my determination to get my child out of this palace. Oshai had promised to help me get her out of the city when the time came, but until I was able to steal my daughter away without endangering both her and everyone in our network, I would be patient. And I would stay far away from the man whose interference might ruin any chance I had at getting my child out of Ashdod.

  Fifteen

  Lukio

  An older man I’d never seen before was in the king’s chamber with Nicaro when I arrived. Although the seren lounged on the same cushioned bench where we’d first made our agreement, a large beer mug in hand, the two were engaged in an intense discussion. I had no desire to intrude, but since I’d been summoned, I cleared my throat to make myself known. Their conversation halted at the sight of me in the doorway, Igo hovering near my flank.

  “Forgive me, seren,” I said. “I can return later, if need be.”

  “Come in, Lukio.” Nicaro beckoned me into the room with a smile that was a shade cooler than the last time I’d met with him. “This is Jaru, the head of my royal guard. We three need to discuss some of the unique issues this festival might pose.”

  Jaru turned to take me in as I approached, lending Igo a brief glance and a frown before pinning his gaze back on me. As he did, I was struck with a strange sense of familiarity, along with the feeling that his deep-set brown eyes, so dark they were almost black, could see past the veneer of confidence I pulled on like a mantle every morning. Had Jaru said something to make Nicaro question my motives?

  Unnerved by both the scrutiny and the oddly detached tone of the king’s voice, I took a moment to urge Igo to lie down on the floor nearby. Thankfully, the dog complied, even though he kept his luminous silver eyes on me. Someone must have trained him to obey before he was found wandering in that field. I was still in shock that he’d migrated over to Shoshana earlier and flopped himself down in front of her with ease. But then, she’d always had the same effect on me too.

  “An excellent idea,” I said to the king, hoping my relaxed manner would ease the tension in the room. “What concerns do you have?”

  “Jaru is worried that inviting spectators from all of the Five Cities and the surrounding areas will encourage enemies and spies to sneak in among the crowd.”

  I nodded, contemplating. “That is a possibility, to be sure. But as a port city and one positioned on the Way of the Sea trade route, there are undoubtedly many who enter our gates with nefarious purposes.”

  “But not in such uncontrollable numbers,” said Jaru. “If we open our gates to a flood of people without discrimination, there is a possibility we could be invaded from the inside.”

  “Or it could be something that brings together the Five Cities and shows everyone that Ashdod is the greatest among them. I have full confidence in both your guards and our soldiers to ensure order is maintained. There is no army like ours.” I gestured toward Nicaro. “Thanks to our king’s excellent leadership. A fact that will be on full display to those who come to Ashdod and see just how impressive our military might truly is. Spies sent here during the festival will only take word of our vast superiority back to our enemies.”

  Jaru’s lips pinched in a tight line, his eyes narrowing slightly. I could see how a man in charge of the many guards who kept this palace and all of the king’s properties and interests safe might be wary of such a festival. If things did not go as planned, it was his position and reputation at stake, after all. Nicaro did not tolerate weakness of any sort, nor did he offer second chances to those he deemed incompetent.

  But I could not let one man’s unease unravel all the plans I’d made. I’d worked too hard to see it all go to waste now. So, I looked Jaru in the eye, showing that I was in no way intimidated by his obvious skepticism. Perhaps he, like so many others I’d been dealing with over the past few weeks, was loyal to the former Master of Games. But I’d spent a great many hours lately wooing those who were suspicious of my changes. I could convince Jaru as well, I had little doubt.

  “Why don’t I explain how I’ve scheduled each event to flow one into the other?” I offered. “Then we can strategize crowd control and discuss how best to coordinate our efforts.”

  With a silent tip of his head, Jaru agreed to listen to what I had to say, so I laid out my plans in detail. I’d been meeting regularly with leaders and participants of the five events I’d decided to highlight over the four-day festival: footraces, archery, feats of strength, stick fighting, and my own sport of barehanded fighting. Although at first there was some resistance to my plans to invite anyone in Ashdod who wanted to participate—be they rich or poor—my years of swaying crowds to cheer for me, even when I was at a disadvantage, had served me well. I’d successfully made my case that not only would the people of the city thrill at taking part in the games, but that those who made their living by wagers on such matches, like myself, would only further benefit from excitement among the masses.

  By the time I finished, I could tell that even if Jaru was not completely convinced, Nicaro was more than pleased with all I’d managed to put together. The icy demeanor with which he’d greeted me had slowly melted into one of almost paternal pride.

  “Additionally,” I said, eager to lay out the offering that I was certain would secure Nicaro’s absolute confidence in me, “it would be my honor to gift a large piece of land that is suitable for the construction of an arena wherein the larger events can be held. The tract I have in mind is situated at the bottom of a shallow basin near my olive orchard, which would be perfect for spectators to view the games from all sides. Other than clearing some trees and digging out the fighting grounds, it should be fairly easy to prepare for the purpose. The area is also easily accessed from the trade road. Of course, we will schedule some of the smaller events inside the city walls, to encourage bartering in the market, but the ones which will draw large crowds—”

  “Like the fights,” supplied Nicaro.

  “Yes—such as the fights—can take place in a wide-open area in the countryside, so as not to overwhelm our streets for the entire four-day festival.”

  “And you are willing to give up your own land for this?” Nicaro asked, incredulous.

  “Of course. It is my gift to both you, seren”—I nodded my chin—“and the people
of Ashdod. My wealth is a direct result of the support of the people of this city. It is, after all, their silver with which I purchased that same olive farm as an investment a few years ago.”

  An investment that made me far richer than fighting itself ever did and had grown to encompass a large swath of land along the river that flowed between here and Ekron, including some of the very same orchards through which Risi and I pilfered fruit to feed our snarling bellies as we fled Ashdod all those years ago. Enormous vats of oil, grains, and fine wines bearing my personal emblem were now exported all over the Great Sea. I wondered whether my seafaring father would have found any pride in my becoming a prosperous trader of goods on the water, if nothing else.

  “That is quite the offer,” said Nicaro.

  “I am confident that Ashdod’s prosperity will only increase as a result. A small piece of land is nothing in comparison to what will be gained.”

  “There now, Jaru,” said Nicaro, with a clap of his hands. “You have nothing to fear. This is an ambitious undertaking, to be certain. But I, too, am convinced that this festival will be a success. We will coordinate with Virka and Grabos to ensure that your men have plenty of support. And we will waste no time in putting together a team to clear Lukio’s land.” Then he turned to me. “You’ve not spoken of your own participation. You do plan to fight?”

  Although the words were posed as a question, they were a clear command from the king. I’d hoped to avoid doing so, since I’d have so many activities and people to coordinate, but I also knew that my presence would excite the crowd. As well, an open invitation to anyone who dared fight Demon Eyes would be an enormous draw. Thankfully, I’d not ceased my daily training, continuing to spar with other fighters, run along the beach in the early mornings, and lift heavy rocks until my muscles screamed for mercy. I would simply have to ensure that everything was well coordinated in advance of my own bouts.