Death at a Wedding

By Richard Freeborn

Jacob fought desperately to save Jerusalem from the Babylonian invaders. Injured and exiled, Jacob now builds a new life among his former enemies in the city of Babylon.

An unexpected death forces Jacob to reassess everything he believes. Are his friends being truthful. Are the priests honest, or are darker forces at work in Babylon?

Pulling back the layers of lies and half-truths leads Jacob to a shocking last confrontation. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Richard Freeborn
• Release date: Jan 27, 2024
• ISBN: 9781958214046

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The Wedding of Horam and Damkina

The Fifth Day of Simanu - Afternoon

It was late spring, early in the month of Simanu. Already the furnace heat of full summer was gaining the upper hand, burning the moisture out of the trees and plants, and leaving the landscape a dry dusty brown color.

Jacob stood under the shade of a beige awning on the right side of the entrance to the north facing courtyard. The awning was so faded it was almost white and provided a contrast to the wall of tan-colored mud bricks behind him. He could smell the dust of the hot bricks as he stood there, the wall protecting his back, and watched the wedding guests.

It was many years since Jacob had led soldiers in the defense of Jerusalem against the Babylonian invaders. The habits learned and practiced since he was a teenager were hard to discard, and he had a personal interest in making sure the wedding being celebrated today was a success.

Jacob let his gaze leave the people to look at the house, especially the flat roof. There was no one there. He hadn't expected there to be, just one more habit he couldn't leave behind.

The rest of the house was a sprawling single-story building facing away from the city of Babylon. The tan-colored mud bricks almost made the house blend into the landscape. The house was built on three sides of a square around an enormous courtyard. The fourth side, where Jacob stood, faced north, and provided shade and relief from the intense summer heat. Today, a gentle breeze out of the east kept the temperature comfortable.

Away to the west, the furnaces, and forges of the village of Kweiresh spewed dark stains of smoke across the blue sky. The rising smoke obscured the towering walls of the Summer Palace, where legend said the Tower of Babel had once stood.

In front of the open courtyard, fields of barley and orchards of fruit trees fed by a network of canals added splashes of bright color to the sandy-colored landscape as the ground sloped down to the Outer Walls of the city.

Nearly a hundred people filled the courtyard around Jacob. Astrologers chose the exact number of guests to ensure the best fortunes for the couple. Every guest dressed in their best robes, many of the men with turbans wrapped tightly around their heads, the women with lengths of gold and silver wire decorated with precious stones shaped into red and blue flowers, and threaded artfully through their hair.

The conversation among the men was lively and friendly, even though inside the city walls, most of them were competitors who regularly schemed and planned to bring each other to ruin.

Every one, Judeans and Babylonians alike, were here to celebrate the wedding of Horam and Damkina. Jacob liked the young man and had seen Horam grow from a shy youth constantly in his father's shadow to a confident man taking on more responsibility in his father's trading business. Jacob was supposed to be teaching Horam the business, but on some days, it seemed to Jacob he learned as much from Horam as he taught.

Horam's bride, Damkina, was the eldest daughter of another merchant, Rimut. Jacob knew more about Rimut than he did about the sixteen-year-old daughter. Rimut walked a careful line between the merchants who worked daily with the Judean Exiles, and those who believed every man, woman, and child deported from Judah nearly five years ago should live in chains and slavery.

There were still many of the latter in Babylon, and more than once Jacob had considered paying for permits to leave Babylon, make his way south to Erech, or perhaps north to Sippar, where there were also large communities of Exiles. Every time circumstance had contrived to keep him here in Babylon, and perhaps that was where he was meant to be.

Jacob moved so his weaker right arm, the one holding the goblet of wine, was toward the wall, leaving his healthy left arm with a full range of motion. Then he turned his attention back to the guests enjoying the wine, waiting expectantly for the meal to be served now the formal ceremonies were complete.

At the far end of the courtyard, four musicians prepared for the end of the meal when they would transform the event from serious to celebratory. As Jacob watched, a young girl weaved her way through the crowd, nodding recognition to some, a smile to others. From the hunch of her shoulders, and the way she held her head, Jacob knew the smile never reached her eyes.

Her hair, was a rich reddish-brown color in vivid contrast to the long white robe she had worn as an attendant to the bride, made her stand out. She was Kassaya, the younger daughter by nearly two years. When Jacob had met her briefly earlier that day, he'd sensed someone who chafed at the restrictions and expectation placed on her as a young woman of marriageable age.

She would be a handful for whoever married her.

A soft gust of wind brought him back to the present. The breeze carried the aroma of baking bread and spices from the kitchens.

And the garlic used to flavor the roasting meat.

Jacob felt his mouth water at that last smell. He loved garlic cloves roasted until they were as soft as curds of goat cheese, then spread thickly on a piece of barley bread.

As one part of his mind focused on the food, another part still watched, and he stroked the edges of his beard, trimmed to a point like his fellow Judeans, although there were few here today. Perhaps twelve or fifteen among the attendees. The rest of the guests were Babylonian, the men with their beards square and straight at the bottom like the blade of a shovel.

So far, everyone was behaving themselves, and Jacob relaxed a little. Relaxed further when he heard the soft rustle of cloth beside him and inhaled the delicate but intoxicating scent of pine and cedar.

There was only one person he knew who wore that perfume.

He had seen her moving through the guests as well, carrying herself with grace as she talked with the other women, and even though some were taller and most wore garments of finer and richer materials, there was no-one more stunning to him.

She moved close enough that he caught the woman scent of her, felt the warmth of her body through her robe; the one he had gifted her as the winter had turned to spring. It was a rich green and replaced the red robe that had shown signs of wear. In Jacob's mind, the vibrant green of her new robe was better suited to the brown eyes and black hair that hung halfway to her waist.

No other woman there wore that color.

Our time will come, she said in a soft voice only Jacob could hear. Don't begrudge them their day.

I'd never do that, Miriam Jacob said. I was actually enjoying the smells coming from the kitchen. Do I sense your hand in that?

She smiled at him, and her brown eyes sparkled with amusement. Some. I offered to ensure the kitchen met our laws. I know there are only a few Judeans here, but we need nothing to disrupt this day.

Esther will behave, I promise you.

The smile disappeared. Miriam made a noise of disbelief that could have been a snort. She shook her head, her long black hair bouncing across her shoulders. You have more faith in my cousin than I do.

I have faith in her husband. I overheard Isaac speak some forceful words to her. She'll behave today, even if Isaac suffers for the next month.

I'll pray you're right, she said, and surreptitiously stroked the back of his hand as she moved past him. An action that set the blood pounding in his head. I'm going to check the kitchen once more. They should be nearly ready to serve. After that, I can spend time with you.

She moved away from him then, crossing the few paces to the heavy blackened ox-hide that covered the doorway into the kitchen. As Miriam passed through and the hide swung slowly back into place, Jacob again smelled the scent of the cooking.

His stomach growled noisily.

Jacob took a sip of his wine, returned to watching the landscape, the roof, the guests. A man came toward him. Tall, lean, his features hard sharp angles, his spade-shaped beard trimmed close and nearly as silver as his hair. He weaved slightly as he walked and there was an air of focused concentration about him that suggested to Jacob, the goblet of wine in his hand was the latest of several. The huge smile on his face barely moved as he took a long swallow from his goblet.

You look pleased and happy, Rimut, Jacob said as the man paused beside him. They looked across the courtyard at the guests enjoying themselves.

My eldest daughter is married, something that builds the alliance between two families, Rimut said, lifted his goblet again, took another long swallow. As he lowered the goblet, his eyes fixed on Jacob.

From what I hear, the success of Horam's family this past year has been mostly because of your skills. No-one I know would consider trading with Nineveh. You took the chance and came back with some excellent wines.

We brought back more than wine, Jacob said. It was a good information gathering expedition, but we're not trading with them regularly yet. Until our caravan returns from Judah, it may be more than we can take on.

Nineveh had been a gamble. The Assyrian city had fallen to a combined army that included Babylonians, Elamites, and Medes who besieged, then sacked the city about thirty years before. Jacob hadn't expected the wine to be of such high quality, or the other trade goods to generate so much interest.

Would you consider involving partners? Rimut said, dragging Jacob's mind back to the present.

Jacob lifted the goblet to his mouth, and before taking a drink, said. You're interested?

Rimut nodded. So is Tiglath. Talk to him. He's at the caravan grounds most days.

The wine nearly sprayed from Jacob's mouth. He covered his surprise with a cough, took another drink. A long swallow this time, said. You're aware Tiglath and I had dealings in the past? Jacob said.

Rimut laughed. A rich booming sound that came from deep inside him seemed bigger than the man himself, and his dark eyes sparkled. Dealings? Is that a Judean word? As I heard it, you walked into his house and threatened him.

A story exaggerated in the re-telling, Jacob said. He started to say more, then realized he no longer had Rimut's attention.

Rimut's body was stiff with tension, his eyes slitted, almost closed, and his jaw clenched. His fingers gripped the goblet so hard, Jacob expected the bronze to buckle under the pressure as Rimut growled. I told him to remain out of sight. He's here to work, not behave like a guest.

Jacob turned his head, looking to the side like he was searching for someone, allowing his peripheral vision to take in the movement behind him.

A stout man about a head shorter than Jacob, with a narrow face and sharp features, made his way along the edge of the guests. He smiled at some, spoke brief words to others before continuing beyond the end of the courtyard.

Jacob recognized the man, felt emotions similar to Rimut, and realized his own hand gripped the goblet too tightly.

You hired Taya the food-taster?

Jacob had met Taya some years before. The same day he met Miriam, and where his feelings for Miriam had grown, his distaste and distrust he felt toward Taya remained the same.

Rimut sighed, took a long swallow of wine, used the goblet to gesture toward the crowd in the courtyard.

"Away from here, inside the walls of Babylon, we compete like jackals over a corpse for trade opportunities or information that brings profit and gains more favor with the priests of the Esagila. I wanted to be sure nothing goes wrong today, and Urtak, my head servant, suggested Taya.

Personally, Jacob, I find the man as distasteful as you obviously do. If I challenge him openly, there is the risk of leaving Kassaya an orphan before we find her a husband. He has friends in high places.

The Esagila?

Rimut shook his head, his voice so low no-one over three paces away would hear. The Palace.

CHAPTER TWO

The Wedding of Horam and Damkina

The Fifth Day of Simanu - Afternoon

Miriam pushed through the cured ox-hide that separated the kitchen from the courtyard. The layers of leather were stiff, heavy, unyielding, almost black, and rough under her hands. She felt the strain on her arms as she pulled the hide back far enough so she could slip through the gap into the kitchen.

After the soft breeze that gave the courtyard the illusion of cool, the kitchen felt like the inside of a small furnace. Miriam felt the perspiration bead across her brow as she stepped inside, letting the ox-hide fall back into place behind her with a dull thud she barely heard over the bustling activity.

To her left were three large jars of the red wine the guests were drinking. Two servants were pouring the contents from one of the huge clay vessels that came up to their waists, into a succession of smaller jugs that made it easier to serve the guests.

To the right, pushed against the wall, a small table held a bronze plate and goblet. Small stoppered jars stood in a cluster on one side of the table, looking like those she used to store her healing salves and oils.

Beyond the table, more servants were adding onions, leeks, and sour milk into a pot. When they were done, they added pieces of meat from what had once been a young goat. The cooking smells reached her, and Miriam could tell from the aroma if served like this, it would be a bland dish. She hoped they would add more to the stew, dates perhaps, or Jacob's favorite, garlic.

Directly across the room, double doors were propped open to give a view of a huge fire pit and a roasting lamb. Fat dribbled along the sides of the carcass, crisping the skin, dripping down onto the hot coals, making hissing and spitting noises Miriam could hear above the chatter of the servants. Several chickens pecked at the ground around the fire pit, squawking and fluttering when the embers spat sparks with a loud crack that frightened the birds for a moment before they returned to their grazing.

Stacked round the edges of the fire were mounds of clay, about half a cubit in size, and enough for each guest. Earlier, Miriam had watched the servants stuff pigeons with lentils, dates, and pomegranate flesh before molding clay strips around the freshly plucked birds and placing the parcels around the fire to roast slowly.

The wedding feast would provide more meat in one day than most of the guests ate in a year.

Is everything satisfactory for your people? the head servant asked as he came up to her. He wiped the sweat from his face and beard with a piece of stained white linen, then rubbed the cloth over his bald head before he pushed it into the length of rope tied around his waist.

Miriam knew something of this man named Urtak. He had visited and questioned Isaac's kitchen staff in the days before the wedding to understand how the