Free Delilah: A Novel by India Edghill Page B

away in my mind, as if they were garments not needed for a season. To learn all we must know occupied our days—for we were Rising Moons now, and much was expected of us by our elders. Newly consecrated to Atargatis, we set our feet upon the long path all those called to serve Our Lady must walk. Now began our true transformation from girl to priestess.
    Lessons claimed all the hours of our days. Dance, of course, for me and for Aylah, long hours of careful practice, until each step, each supple movement, became perfect. And now that we were Rising Moons, we had to learn custom and law, trade routes and Temple history. The lore of the Five Cities must be mastered, as well as all the rituals and prayers due Our Lady.
    But history and trade seemed pallid things compared to the Lady’s Wisdom; knowledge we both longed and feared to learn. One day we would be Full Moons, our bodies vessels for Our Lady. When we sat dutifully listening to dull matters of roads and taxes, our mindswandered—at least mine did—to the more enticing lessons: how to touch, to kiss, to summon the goddess for Her worshippers.
    The Lady’s Dance already burned in my blood; I found it hard to sit and listen to Master Indiones drone on about the lore of metal-craft and the difficulties of controlling the secrets of ironworking when I could think of what the Mistress of the Lady’s Arts had told us that morning.
“There are seven kinds of kisses, and you will learn all of them . . .”
    “Now, the Five Cities have laws that are fair and just, and ask only that all who dwell in the land of Canaan abide by those laws. But this new people, these Hebrews, do not abide by any law, but do as pleases them. And at first the Five Cities had looked upon the Hebrews as a mere nuisance, as easy to destroy as a buzzing fly—”
    “Has Wise Indiones ever tried to destroy a buzzing fly?” Aylah whispered in my ear as Indiones droned on. I thought of how hard flies were to catch or kill; swatting the vexing insects merely seemed to encourage their attacks. I pressed my lips tight so that I would not laugh aloud and earn extra lessons as punishment. Temple Eunuch Indiones had instructed the Temple’s children so long no one remembered who had preceded him. There was very little Indiones did not know about the history of gods and men—but his nature was solemn and his reprimands severe.
    “But although the Five Cities had offered fair bargains for the land the Hebrews coveted, the trade was refused. Now, as you all know—or should know, as I have repeated it often enough—no other people dwelling in Canaan may have a smith of their own. Any man who wishes to sharpen a blade must come to a Philistine smith. Who rules iron rules all. Write that down. Now, the Hebrews have a strange god . . .”
    Dutifully, we scratched the words into the wax of our tablets. I could not imagine why we needed to know anything about iron, or Hebrews, or any gods other than our own. My mind drifted back to the Lady’s Arts.
“Your body is a living temple. Men will worship it . . .”
    “A hard law, fit for a hard metal,” Aylah said as we left the classroom and our lesson in the customs and judgments of the Five Cities.
    “What law?” I asked, and Aylah sighed, as if she despaired of me as much as Indiones did.
    “Didn’t you listen at all, Delilah? Remember, we are to concentrate our minds on the lesson before us at the time.” Aylah made her voice prim, and I laughed as she went on. “The law that no one save a man of the Five Cities may work in iron.”
    “Oh, that. Well, why should those who are our enemies forge blades the equal of ours? Should not our own soldiers possess the best weapons?”
    Aylah slanted a glance at me, her eyes gray and hard as iron itself. “The world changes, Delilah. Do you think only weapons are made of a metal harder than bronze? Does a man with an iron plow wish to carry it from his fields to a Philistine forge to have it sharpened?