Esther Read Free Page B

and you will sway beside him.”
    I felt a pull upon my wrists. Cyra was stumbling. There was little I could do to help her, except to remain steady as she regained her balance.
    Suddenly Dalphon’s whip cracked so close beside my face that I felt the air move against my cheek. There was a terrible, wet sound—sharp leather against Cyra’s flesh. Cyra let out a scream that was as much surprise as pain, then began to wail.
    â€œWalk,” I said quietly, “do not think of your flesh but of the palace and the soft cushions and wine that await you.”
    â€œShe will make a good concubine,” Dalphon said, “she will not lie silent beneath a man like some.”
    I suddenly had the thought that if Dalphon had been the one to storm my parents’ hut during the last revolt of Babylon, he would have slit their throats with as little hesitation as the soldier who did it while I watched. I hated him. “How much training did it take to perfect the whipping of defenseless girls?” I said before I could stop myself. “And are there not women who will have you without being forced?”
    Dalphon turned to stare at me. This time I did not avoid his eyes. I had been wrong to think that they were just like his twin’s. They too were beautiful, but they were not like drops of honey that had just begun to melt. They were big and almond colored, or would be if almonds could contain both sunlight and darkness at once. Why had God given such beauty to someone so cruel? His hand tightened on his whip. “I have clearly not trained enough if a prisoner dares talk back to me.”
    Erez hit his heels against his horse and hurried to cut Dalphon off. I saw that he carried no whip. He stopped just far enough from me that his horse did not knock me to the ground.
    He leaned down toward me, sending a winged figure on a chain around his neck swinging back and forth. “Quiet.” He had sharp cheekbones, and though most of the other men had beards of tight curls, he had only stubble along his jaw. “You are not a defenseless girl, or any other sort of girl. You are property of the king. Unless Dalphon makes you his property first.”
    He turned and delivered a couple of hard slaps to the flanks of Dalphon’s horse. Dalphon looked over his shoulder at me and spat upon the ground. I was afraid he would bring his horse around, but Erez reached out and grabbed the animal’s bridle.
    As they rode away, I looked beneath where Erez’s hair fell a short length from his saffron headband, watching the clasp of the chain he wore bounce lightly against his neck. Across his broad back he carried a bow and a quiver of arrows. Though he had spoken harshly to me, I knew he was the closest thing I had to a protector. But who would watch over him? If the other soldiers ever turned against him, his wicker shield would not be big enough to protect him.

CHAPTER THREE
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SCREAMING
    The sun rose higher overhead and beat upon us without mercy. But the heat wafting up from the road was even more intense than the heat from above. It felt as though we were walking through a great fire that grew hotter as it fed upon our bodies. “I cannot go on,” Cyra kept muttering, “I cannot go on.”
    Her tunic was ripped where Dalphon’s whip had hit her. Blood came from the lash upon her neck and back and a blister formed on her right heel. She began to pant.
    â€œCyra, Yvrit, listen to me. You can bear whatever burning you feel in your feet and the cut upon your back. Soon we will be in the palace and you can lie upon soft pillows and only rise when slaves lift you.”
    Cyra’s panting quieted but blood continued to flow from her wound. We marched until the sun reached the top of the sky. Then Cyra stopped in her tracks and started screaming.
    Dalphon galloped toward us, yelling at her to be silent. She screamed louder and fell to her knees.
    The column had come to a stop. Girls