 PROLOGUE--BANISHED
“I can’t
leave. This is the only home I’ve ever known.” Tears glistened in her azure
eyes.
Suddenly the ache in
her chest rose to her throat, in a lump so large, so hard, that she couldn’t speak.
She had never before felt pain, never even imagined it. She shivered and crossed her arms
over the fig leaf apron she had hurriedly fashioned. Patches of skin already showed
through where the leaves had crumbled. Her flowing blond hair felt heavy for the first
time.
Naked and she knew it,
the revelation earlier that day had shocked her and her husband.
“Take
comfort in the fact that you don’t have to leave The Garden alone, that your man
accompanies you.” As he stopped speaking, he gently grabbed a lamb.
Eve watched in
horror as her pet fell, still, silent and bleeding.
“Look at death.” God picked up the lamb. “Only
death will pay for your disobedience.”
“No! Don’t—”
Eve watched him skin the animal, its muscles still jerking as the life ebbed away.
Skillfully he formed a garment.
“Put this on.” She had never
feared obeying him before, yet the idea of touching part of an animal that no longer lived
and breathed so repulsed her that she hesitated almost paralyzed. Eve’s stomach
twisted and churned as she slowly obeyed the now frightening voice of God. She covered her
face as he made another coat, this one for Adam, but she could not shut out the plaintive
bleating of the innocent lamb.
“Now.” God
nodded at two beings in robes that glistened brighter than sunlight, robes so different
from the dead fleece Adam and Eve now wore.
Eve turned and pleaded with her eyes.
“To help remind
you.” The Creator spoke and a flaming sword appeared, moving toward them. “Never
enter the garden and eat from the Tree of Life. I leave my power and my light in the form
of this weapon so bright, so strong, and so hot, that it will burn like fire.”
God turned away from
Adam and Eve.
“You must go,”
said an angel with white curls and golden eyes.
“Celeste, my friend, I’m sorry.”
The heat from the flaming sword held with unseen hands drew
close, interrupting Eve’s pleas. The sword motioned her and Adam away from the center
of The Garden.
“Celeste, why do we need this sword to remind us to
obey Jehovah, our God?” Eve whispered.
The angel looked sadly at her for a moment before answering.
“Someday you will understand what a tragedy it would be for a sinner to live forever.
Even if you never tried to enter The Garden again, one of your children would. Evil will
one day expire at God’s hand and the flaming sword will testify to the reality of
God.”
“Who would ever
doubt the existence of God? He created us!”
“Eve, the seed of
sin, after it sprouts and grows, will blossom into concepts, deeds and miseries more
shocking than the fact that men will soon doubt the existence of God.”
If only she had not
wandered from Adam’s side. She never dreamed she would end up at the forbidden tree
where Satan, impersonating the glorious serpent would speak tempting lies.
“I’m so sorry.” Eve grimaced as she wiped her eyes,
guilt choking her throat, causing her stomach to sink and her heart to feel like it lay
bare, exposed and unprotected as that of the lamb that had just died to clothe her.
“It’s too late.” Adam’s voice cracked as
he wrapped his muscular arms around his wife. “We made our choice, we’ll face
this together.”
Eve pulled away
refusing the comfort of his arms and turned to the other angel. “Pedrone, please
help.”
Tears formed in the
cherubim’s green eyes. He shook his chestnut, shoulder-length hair. Eve remembered
their walks when he had taught her the ways of the universe. She wondered if their
friendship would end now.
“Celeste!” Eve turned back to the first angel.
“Remember when you handed me that kitten? And when you taught me to train the vines
of our home? You told me about how God created me from Adam’s rib. Will I ever see
you again?”
“God’s will be done, not mine. The day you
disobeyed, the singing stopped in heaven. That happened only once before, after the
heavenly war when Satan lost. I’m sure the
singing will cease again the day God pays your ransom.” Celeste grew quiet a moment.
“That devil will control the world for a time, but God owns the universe. Good will swallow evil
digesting it into oblivion. This and whether you see me again is in the hands of the
Father God.”
“Rejoice, God’s mercy continues to give you life.”
Pedrone’s voice cracked as he attempted to smile. “God’s love cannot be
fathomed, but his justice reigns.”
“Only his mercy delays your death.” Celeste’s
voice trembled. “The seed of sin will ripen. The universe will witness the torture
the fruit of sin brings, but now you must leave. We will come to you and explain God’s
plan.”
The flaming sword
prodded them on. Celeste led Adam and Eve, followed by Pedrone, to a bend in the path
revealing the end of The Garden. Adam and Eve walked out to their new life.
“I curse the
ground,” echoed the fearsome voice of God. Eve looked, but could not find him. “You
must now cultivate the soil. Only by the sweat of your brow you will provide food for
yourselves. Thorns and weeds will make this work difficult.”
Sin now separated Eve
from the only parent she had known. “Pedrone, can we ever spend time with our Father
again?”
“Only after he
extinguishes death.” Pedrone smiled weakly.
Eve glanced over her
shoulder at her former home. Mangoes, oranges, macadamias and strawberries now in season,
crowded the branches, while fragrant gardenias, roses and honeysuckle perfumed the air. A
lump formed in Eve’s throat as she watched the lynx kittens—her favorites—rolling
together on a sunny spot of lawn. She could not bear to leave them behind, but she must.
Eve’s weeping resumed and caused her breaths to come in gasps.
The angels turned
away, one standing on either side of the flaming sword, which rotated around and around,
barring human entrance.
A slight wind started
to blow, gaining speed. A vine appeared, twisting and twirling around the borders of the
garden. Barbs and leaves sprouted on the living fence that left the view of the Eden
paradise intact, yet fenced.
Eve remembered the day
she awoke and saw Adam’s brown eyes, ruddy face and dazzling smile, half
astonishment, half adoration. His black wavy hair framed his beautiful, masculine face in
an unforgettable picture. His earthy scent drew her. Love at first sight. Passion heated
their tender places as their Creator said, “What God has brought together, let no man
separate. I give you this garden, The Garden of Eden, for your home, and the animals for
friends.”
Eve started to shake,
wondering how that bliss could end, stepping back, she teetered. Adam steadied her and
pulled her to him. No birds sang that day.
“Be fruitful and
multiply,” rang the voice of their beloved Father God, sounding like the water that
flowed in the mighty Pison River. “Cover the whole earth with your children.”
Eve looked around at
trees, bushes and grasses growing untrained. Flowers dotted the land, but it seemed barren
compared the Garden of Eden. The scent of the flowers outside drifted into her nostrils in
faint wisps. What a contrast to the ever-present perfume from the cascading blossoms that
grew at every turn in her former home!
The sun sped toward the horizon. The light wind sent a
shiver down Eve’s spine. Adam led her to the base of a little hill beside a stream
where they drank. Eve ignored the brilliantly colored semi-transparent stones that
decorated the creek bed.
A bank formed a
natural shelter. They sat beside it on the moss-covered ground. Would life ever feel right
again? Eve wondered if her knowledge of evil would overpower her knowledge of good. But
hadn’t Pedrone said that God would win?
She sighed with relief. Surely God would restore good and remove the evil soon.
The sinking sun cast
gray light on everything, matching the moods of the first man and woman.
Adam’s face
grimaced. “So this is what it feels like to know good and evil.”
An invisible knife
pierced Eve’s heart as she realized she had dragged him into this misery, this
coldness, this place devoid of God and his peace. Adam must truly love her. She moaned and
started sobbing, and Adam pulled her close.
The chill deepened. A
rustling in the long grass distracted them as two large sheep approached. Sympathy and
love showed in their eyes. One sheep licked Adam’s outstretched hand. Eve reached to
the other for her own healing kiss. One sheep nestled at Adam’s right, while the
other snuggled on Eve’s left. Adam and Eve lay back, enjoying the warmth as they
drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Five hundred years
passed. Adam and Eve stayed in the village they had built near their former home in the
Garden of Eden. At the birth of each child they cherished the hope that the Redeemer
destined to obliterate evil and misery had come.
CHAPTER 1--THE REBEL
Dawn pulled the covers over her head. Her father, Bela, the
fifth wealthiest man in Enoch, the city named after Cain’s son, had demanded that she
dance during his spring feast that night to welcome the initiation of the new god.
She considered praying to the image that would soon live in
the garden or Bela’s hall of the gods, but each year it was the same. Dawn would pray
for happiness, for friends, for time alone with her mother, but the gods never answered
her, never let her find love.
Dawn sighed as she remembered laying the provocative,
jewel-covered gown Bela expected her to wear on a couch in her chamber. Surely there was a
God somewhere powerful enough to help her, to prevent the seductive rite she must perform
that night.
“Help me!” Dawn cried silently, sending the plea
to the unknown God into the abyss.
The scent of roses, vanilla and olive oil invaded Dawn’s
nostrils. “It’s your turn to bathe, Dawn.” She opened her eyes and saw her
mother, the black-haired beauty, Keturah, who had actually found her way into Dawn’s
sleeping chamber.
“The jewelers and seamstresses outdid themselves this
time.” Keturah fingered the layers of sheer white fabric, drawn with a gold chord at
the waist and dotted with diamonds, sapphires and rubies all inlaid with gold. “I
think I’ll order one for myself, perhaps in scarlet. Are we not fortunate to afford
such luxury? Do you not love to shop and plan for all our parties?”
Dawn rubbed her eyes, stretched then threw back the bed
robes. “Long ago I grew weary of shopping. I could wear a different robe everyday for
a month and not run out.”
“But don’t you love going to the parties, Dawn?
The food, the music and magic shows! Don’t forget the dancers, the jugglers and
dramas, no finer entertainment could be found in the land of Nod, and perhaps in the
entire world.”
“I admit that I enjoy the jugglers and magicians, but I
detest singing and dancing while people watch.” Dawn paused and gave Keturah a
questioning look. “Mother, I can’t remember the last time you visited my
chambers. What brings you here?”
“I feared the servants wouldn’t awaken you early
enough. Get up, my child.”
During the twenty-two years of Dawn’s life, she seldom
saw or spoke to the woman. In fact the conversation this morning had been one of their
longest. They had never been close, but Dawn used to look for her anyway, dreaming of a
mother who would someday show an interest in her. But Keturah had usually already left to
go to the stables, the jewel or fine clothing makers, or to some other amusement, as did
the other wealthy women who lived in Enoch and the other cities in the land of Nod.
“As your father’s only child, it is your privilege
and duty to grant his wishes.” Keturah’s voice sounded more than kind.
Dawn willed herself to obey. She pushed her tousled dark
curls away from her face, stretched again and sat up halfway, leaning on her elbows.
“Prepare
yourself perfectly. One never knows what may come of an opportunity such as this. Get up
now.” Keturah’s syrupy voice echoed in Dawn’s ears.
Dawn slowly pushed herself out of
bed unable to overcome the dread of what was to happen that day.
The woman tenderly placed a robe
around Dawn’s shoulders. “Your shape reminds me of mine at your age. You will
warm their loins tonight.”
“Must I
watch lust breed in the eyes of every rich, old man in town?”
“Dawn! Do
not speak that way in my presence!”
As Keturah’s
voice intensified, Dawn wondered if every servant in the mansion would hear the lecture.
“It is an honor to be chosen
to dance. Few have the talent or the body. You are endowed with both, now stand up
straight, pull back your shoulders, and suck in your belly.”
The fine lines at Keturah’s
eyes deepened. “A fruit plate awaits you in your sitting room. Eat. Bathe. Then go to
the maids who arrange my hair. After you put on your costume, present yourself at your
father’s hall.”
Keturah turned
and stiffly exited the room.
Dawn rolled her
eyes and flared her nostrils. One second her mother acted sweet as honey and the next like
a dragon breathing inextinguishable flames.
The fist sized strawberries and
grapes perfumed the air and Dawn couldn’t ignore them as she exited her chambers. Her
empty stomach ached, yet she turned away, refusing food, because her mother had ordered
her to eat. Second thought maybe she would take a strawberry with her. She wrapped the
fruit in a linen napkin and put it in the side pocket of her robe.
Pretending that Keturah had turned
into a dragon kept Dawn giggling as she strode down the hall. She paused at the entrance
to her father’s garden. It was strange that she always thought of it as his, for he
seldom spent time there, except to make sacrifices or look for Dawn. How she longed to
loose herself among the roses, lilies, hibiscus and massive ferns.
She breathed deeply inhaling the
sent of a thousand flowers. She could see the long winding pathways beneath the wicka,
cherry and almond trees. Banana, palm and pink and white magnolia trees also shaded the
three altars flanked by carvings of Bela’s gods, made of wood, stone or marble. Each
week her father offered animal sacrifices as well as fruits, vegetables and flowers to his
gods. After they were thus blessed, then the food and flowers were used to feed the large
household and decorate its interiors.
“Touko, Touko!” Dawn
jumped at the shrill call.
“Oh, my friend, I should have
expected you,” Dawn whispered. She looked in all directions. When she was sure no
servant was about she ran in the garden. Perched on a low branch was a black and rainbow
striped toucan bird. Dawn raised her finger to the bird’s talons. After Touko jumped
on, Dawn slipped behind a giant redwood.
Dawn pulled the linen napkin from
her pocket. “Here, eat this strawberry for me.”
Touko gulped the fruit then rubbed
his head against Dawn’s cheek.
The bird had been a gift from her
parents for her twelfth birthday. During the last ten hears he had been her best friend.
Only the last three years had he begun to imitate her voice. Dawn pretended that he
understood what he said, but inside she knew he could not reason, only mimic and beg.
But at least he enjoyed spending
time with her, unlike the girls Dawn had tried to make friends with among the other
heiresses in Nod. They stuck up their noses and looked her up and down and stared at her
hair or face always making comments about her curls or the style of her robe. Dawn
wondered why they treated her as though she were a maimed beggar.
“Ignore them, they covet your
beauty and the fortune your husband will inherit from Bela,” Keturah had said it the
week before on the day they had ordered the party gown. Dawn couldn’t remember any
other time they had shopped together. Maybe they would finally have a relationship now
that she was grown. Then Dawn remembered Keturah’s icy shouts that morning and she
sighed.
“Touko want a berry, Touko
want a berry,” the bird parroted bringing Dawn’s thoughts back to the present.
Dawn snuggled Touko close and
kissed the top of his head. “You greedy bird! Touko want a berry? Touko want a berry?”
“Touko want a berry,”
mimicked the bird.
“Maybe I can find you another
one.” Dawn stooped and pulled the fine mesh away from the plants at her ankles.
“Here you go sweetie.” She popped another berry into Touko’s mouth.
“Sorry I can’t spend time
with you this morning. Bela has other plans for me.” Dawn returned the bird to its
perch then hurried to the bathing chamber.
Dawn dropped her robe on the upper
step and dove to the source of the river-fed indoor pool. Her lean and curvaceous body
soon adjusted to the cool water. She swam the length of the pool underwater pausing to
poke and wave at a blue and silver-striped fish. It had entered through the wooden slats
designed to keep out unwanted people. Dawn hoped the fish found its way back to the river
before the cook discovered it.
Dawn swam back
and forth, putting off preparing for the party. Most occupants of the land of Nod bathed
outside in the river. Dawn enjoyed this and many other benefits as the only daughter of
Bela. She had always lived in the mansion, with jewels decorating it and her. Tutors
taught her everything from art to astronomy, yet something was missing in her life. She
had watched her father grow more and more powerful as he stockpiled houses, lands and
precious stones, but the more he acquired, the more he wanted.
Dawn had seen her father pace back
and forth while fuming and panting during the last festival of Mahalath, the chief god of
Nod. Only Pelek, the wealthiest man in town, could purchase the right to perform the
ritual sacrifices of lions surrounded by the first fruits of the harvest and crimson roses
double the size of a man’s hand. At the last celebration roses from Bela’s
garden had been selected, but it was not enough. Dawn wondered if her father would be
happy if he one day performed the sacrifices. The whole system of wealth and worship
disgusted her. There had to be more to life than acquiring wealth and appeasing the gods
to keep increasing it. Dawn dreamed of something better for herself, but she wondered what
she really wanted.
“Your
mother wished me to ensure your arrival at the maid’s chamber timely.” The tall, bald servant interrupted
Dawn’s thoughts. He folded his arms across his bare chest and averted his eyes, but
Dawn saw him peeking at her under lowered lashes.
Why were all the
men in her life either servants, old or cousins? She had watched several young men walk
past in front of her window. A tall, redhead with bronze-colored skin and dancing green
eyes had especially caught her attention. He had laughed and winked at her. But the odds
of meeting him or even talking to him seemed remote. Whenever Dawn left the house,
servants attended her.
Meeting someone young seemed
hopeless. Her history tutor, the only man in her life younger than Bela that she saw
daily, had the appeal—and the stature—of a frog, with mannerisms to match always
hopping around, blinking his eyes and croaking out facts.
“Shall I carry you?” The
servant interrupted her musings for the second time.
“That will
not be necessary, I dismiss you.”
The man
retreated behind the door as Dawn swam to the steps, climbed out then fastened her robe.
She straightened herself, threw back her shoulders, pulled in her stomach, and forced a
smile. As she passed the sweaty servant, still waiting at the door, she wished she had the
authority to lock the servants out of the house.
Her thoughts returned to the young
men she had seen pass by outside her window. Slim chance she would ever see them again let
alone meet them, but perhaps she could somehow slip away from her riding instructor. Dawn
loved the freedom she felt as she raced her white mare in the open fields east of town.
The wind in her hair reminded her of wings and she dreamed of flying to a place where she
could make decisions about her life, live where she wanted, choose her own friends and
someday find love.
While riding she often saw handsome
young men, and she daydreamed of a secret encounter, but so far her two bodyguards and
riding tutor had kept them at a distance where looking and dreaming were the only options.
She wanted someone special in her life, but shuddered at the thought of who her father
might choose.
Too soon Dawn
arrived at the maid’s room where three young girls, Leena, Tarca and Lada, waited
with combs, jewels and brightly dyed strips of cloth. Beside them stood Lehana, her mother’s
maid, the one gifted in creating original hair designs. Dawn sank down on a cushioned
stool. The four servants attacked her head and soon curls and braids decorated with
ribbons and jewels gave the sensuous effect her father desired for the coming celebration.
As Dawn left she realized her head tilted to the right. She
knew better than to complain. The last time she asked someone to balance her hair she wore
a golden monkey hanging from a string around her right ear for the rest of the day. Dawn
nodded and exited the room.
Back in her chambers, she slipped into her gown then as if
by magic, another of her mother’s maids appeared in time to fasten it. Dawn hurried
to her father’s hall.
“About time
you arrived. I had started to worry.” Sweat beaded on his ruddy forehead as he
tediously raised his fat body from his throne-like chair. His belly jiggled as he waddled
down the steps to where Dawn stood. Bela paused to run his hands through his white
streaked auburn hair.
Perspiration
fumes burned her eyes and she considered the consequences of pushing her father into the
bath in his fur-trimmed robe and gold belt. The mental picture inspired a genuine smile.
Bela circled her and nodded. “Perfect!”
He clasped his hands and rubbed them around and around. “I promised a beautiful
virgin. You will do. Today the priest will present a special god to us and—”
“What do you need another god for? They line our
hallway. They dot our garden. There are snakes, monkeys, birds and lions everywhere. They’re
all supposed to give you wealth, wisdom and good health, yet all you do is scheme for
more. And don’t you have a virgin for each man again tonight?” Dawn sagged like
the potted rose bush that no one had watered as she considered the fate of the young
girls.
“Only you will entertain us tonight. Finalize your
preparations and enter the grand hall in one hour. We start early today. My brother would
be so jealous!” Bela smirked as he returned to his chair. He waved to a servant to
fan him.
“I didn’t know you have a brother,” Dawn
remarked.
“Ah, I don’t, at least I don’t think he’s
alive. I haven’t seen him since before I married your mother. We parted in a rage.
That hot-headed, red-head wanted what I now have. I wish he could see me, but he is no
longer my brother, even if he were to come to Nod, which he never will, I would refuse to
see him.”
Dawn had always
wished for a brother, a sister or even grandparents. At least one of them might love her
and want to spend time with her, but this revelation that Bela had disowned his brother
disturbed Dawn. Her pulse quickened then she thought of the upcoming party. Luckily no one
passed Dawn on the way back to her rooms. Her face grew cold, then hot as her anger
mounted. Why did her father have to order her to appear at his party? She always wanted to
do exactly the opposite of whatever anyone ordered her to do.
She passed
through the hall decorated with birds chiseled from stone and tapestries depicting the
history of the gods of Nod. In the upper left corner stood the monkey gods who were more
like man in appearance than any other animal. But the monkeys submitted to the strength of
the lions, so the lions were also worshiped and honored at the festival of many gods which
came in the winter. This celebration reminded the people that the gods had the power to
keep the land barren and trees bald before allowing spring to come.
Frogs entered the mix next, not
because of their strength, but because of their diversity. Breathing both air and water
made them amazing, mysterious and worthy of worship or so said Dawn’s philosophy
tutor. Farther down on the tapestry, humans lay prostrate before wood, stone and gold
versions of the animals. Next Dawn saw the birds. So far their much coveted ability to fly
had earned them the most honored position, but each year a new god was added to the group.
Dawn wondered if her father had purchased the right to choose that year’s god. That
would explain why this ceremony was so important to him.
It puzzled Dawn
how gods that looked like animals could help her or anyone. Of course her tutors had said
that the images represented the real gods, but which apes, lions, frogs or birds were the
real gods? Did they live on earth in the sight of man or hidden in caves or somewhere
beyond the stars? Each year new theories evolved. Dawn had already noticed that after a
few years, the theories were taught as truth, truth that no one dare question at the
expense of angering the chief God Mahalath.
Dawn paused at
the next embroidered wall hanging that showed the face of a lion on a gorilla’s body
with both arms and wings. Frogs sat upon his shoulders empowering him as he walked, flew
or swam under water. This god ruled not only the land and sea but also the heavens.
The festival of Mahalath, which
took place in the spring, was the same each year. Dawn would watch her father dance
dressed in a loin cloth until he fell in a drunken stupor beside the altar erected in the
garden beside Mahalath’s temple. Dawn knew Bela had purchased this right and that
only three others could afford to dance beside him. The highest position was the most
sought after and the most expensive. Only Pelek, who owned five gemstone mines, could
afford the privilege to offer the sacrifice. Every year Dawn heard her father shout that
he should be the priest of the city and that one day he would earn that right. And because
Bela could not afford to pay for the honor again that year, he had drunk profusely. Could
he otherwise bare the flabby rolls of his belly and dance? Dawn shuddered at the obscene
memory. She tried to look at other things during the festival, which of course she was
required to attend, but the sacrifices and orgies repulsed her even more.
As Dawn touched the embroidered
lion’s head on the tapestry, its lower edge whipped forward. Strange. She looked
behind it. A narrow slit in the wall wide enough for a person to pass through, led to a
black closet. In the darkness Dawn felt coarse cloth. Closer examination revealed robes
hanging on hooks along a wall. She grabbed a robe and hung it over her arm. A cool breeze
raised goose bumps on her neck. A musty smell and the sound of dripping water tempted
exploration.
The hall
extended for about a hundred steps then ended where a door blocked her way. She heard
muffled voices and laughter. The door opened and Dawn hid behind it, holding her breath as
the hall lit up, and three servants entered, one carrying a torch.
“Found
‘um in the streets.” Dawn recognized the voice of the man who had ordered her
out of the bath. “Their skins will buy me a good time tonight.”
“Did they
prove difficult to sell?” another servant asked.
“Not as
long as they had arms and legs. Fingers didn’t matter much though.”
The laughter
echoed in Dawn’s ears as she continued to hold her breath.
“It’s
the muddle brained ones that’s worthless. Had to dump them back on the street.”
The servants’
voices faded as they turned left, ignoring the opening behind the tapestry. The darkness
had hidden from Dawn the servants’ entrance.
She risked breathing again,
relieved that the men seemed unaware that they had left the door open.
Dawn couldn’t believe what she
had heard. Her mother’s maids had whispered about the way some secured extra money,
but she had never known anyone who bought and sold children. A lump formed in her throat
as she thought about their future.
Dawn continued down the long, dark
passageway. The stench of mold in her nostrils grew stronger. She touched the wall, and
drew back her fingertips from the slimy stone. As she walked on, the scent of damp wood
and earth replaced the moldy smell. The passageway lightened slightly. On the right a
wooden door stood ajar. Through the crack Dawn peeked at a few servants sitting at tables,
and others washing clothes in huge steaming vats. Some women removed their colorful street
garb and writhed into the tan uniform robes that marked them as servants of Bela’s
household, while others, their chores finished, removed the uniforms and donned again the
motley clothes they wore at home and in the marketplace.
Two of them turned and walked
toward the door. Dawn backed up against the wall behind the door as they opened it and
walked through, one reaching to close it behind them. Dawn silently inched her way along
the wall.
The women chatted as they walked
toward their labor, ignorant of Dawn’s presence.
The passageway continued opposite
the servant’s room. Dawn walked twenty paces then bumped into a wall. It was strange
to find no door at the end of the hall so she ran her fingers across the cold grainy
surface, seeking she knew not what, footholds, ledges for storage or maybe wine caves. On
the right side she felt a rough spot at a break in the rock. She touched it and the stone
rumbled to the left. |
