A.D. 30(120)

He’d called me a queen. I dipped my head in respect. “Thank you, my king.”

“For all of this, I offer you honor, as I promised. Hear the people’s love for you.”

“I seek only your own.”

“Yes. Of course.” He looked past me. “And do you bring me anything other than gold?”

“Only word from Herod.”

“Naturally. Word. Word from the devil himself.” He looked back at me. “And?”

“He would have you know that he prepares for your armies even as we speak. He knows that this gold won’t stay your hand.”

“Does he? And what would lead our enemy to draw such conclusions?”

“I told him,” I said. “In doing so, I earned his respect and your gold. I also learned his state of mind, as you requested. As such, I have fulfilled my obligation to you.”

He stood still for a few seconds, then chuckled softly.

“Your cunning matches only my own queen’s. Well then, as you say… you have satisfied my requirements and proven yourself worthy. Honestly, I’m quite impressed.”

“Thank you.”

Shaquilath stood and approached to stand just behind her husband, on his right. “Will you remain veiled before your king?”

So, then… they would see.

I lifted the veil from my face and stared at them through those milky eyes.

“Forgive me,” I said.

“Your blindness lingers?” Aretas asked.

“I can see what I need to see. All I ask for now is your blessing to return to Dumah.”

“Yes…” He lifted his finger. “Dumah. Of course. I would give you my blessing as promised.”

He was going to return me with honor? I could not have hoped for more.

“Thank you.” I bowed my head.

“Unfortunately… I am not the only one you must satisfy,” he said.

Shaquilath stepped up to her husband’s side and stood tall, like a statue before her people, making no secret of her power.

“You surprise me, daughter of Rami. In all the desert I have not known a woman like you.” Her tone was sincere. “It’s a pity, the way that brute Kahil blinded you. And yet you had your way with Herod.”

They had kept the crowd in silence for several minutes now. What were they waiting for?

“You would restore the honor of your father in Dumah?”

“Yes.”

“You would return to your home with the seal of Aretas to save your father?”

“If the king agrees.”

“You would rescue the slave Judah from all of his torment…”

I hesitated, because there seemed to be a challenge in her tone.

“Yes,” I said.

“You would then be a savior to your people. A true queen of the desert.”

“I only wish to restore—”

“But there is room for only one Kalb to command,” she said, cutting me short. “And the king has given his approval to another.”

She nodded to the chief guard on my right, and he lifted his hand, relaying an order to the warriors behind me. I glanced back to see them spread wide.

“To whom?” I asked, turning back to the queen.

“To the son of Rami, of course. The one who has made alliance with the Thamud on the behalf of all Kalb.”

My half brother. Maliku.

A knot gathered in my chest.

“Maliku,” she said. “We cannot support both you and your brother, who publicly defies you. Prove yourself by killing the one who betrayed your father, then we will support you. We will order Judah set free and support whatever outcome you can arrange in Dumah.”

Kill him?

Surprisingly, the notion made sense to me. In the ways of justice required by the Bedu, Maliku had already sentenced himself to death by betraying Rami. He was a cancer to all Kalb now—any restoration of honor and order among the tribes would demand his death.

But I wasn’t the one to do it, even if I could.

“You overestimate me,” I said.

“Oh, but I don’t think I do. The woman I saw throwing herself at Kahil knew more than mothering. You have been trained in arts unknown in the desert.”

“As I said, you overestimate me.”

“We shall see.”

No. I can’t see, I thought, and that too is a problem.

“Even if I find Maliku in Dumah and kill him, you wouldn’t know whether I wielded the sword. If you must have him dead, arrange for it yourself. I’m sure if you ordered your servant Kahil of the Thamud, he would be more than happy to kill one so familiar with betrayal.”

“But you too are fluid in betrayal,” Shaquilath said. “As I see it, you have betrayed both Herod and Aretas.”

It wasn’t entirely true, I thought. But the king beside her said nothing, content to let her fulfill her own demands in the matter.