Harvest of Dreams (The Gods' Dream Trilogy) Page 2

Prince Cihkel lunged and stabbed, spun and slashed. Reavers crumpled. He kicked a burly fellow off the wharf, where he thrashed in the water, screaming, before sinking. Seascum were notoriously poor swimmers. Foolish, really, for reavers.

  Cihkel took a slash to his leg, faltered, and then dodged a thrust to his middle. But the sword caught his side. More and more of the horde surrounded the prince, and Thaddis saw the desperation on his face. Cihkel was a dead man, and he knew it. But the prince would take many down with him. Not that Thaddis cared how many reavers died. He wanted to waste their lives. The more the better, leaving fewer seadogs to harry his ships when the temporary alliance between them and Ocean’s Glory ended.

  Covered in blood, some his, Cihkel leaped to the top of a wooden loading dock on the stone quay. Perched above the press of fighters, he could catch his breath. For a moment, the prince glared across the harbor at Thaddis as if he could see the king. Hatred contorted Cihkel’s handsome face, so like his older brother’s. The distain in the prince’s sharp green eyes forced Thaddis to take a step back, his heart thudding. For a moment, the king experienced a heart tug—remembering the young boy who’d hero-worshiped him. But Ontarem tightened His leash around Thaddis’s mind, gloating, and the memory slipped away.

  Three pirates climbed up after Cihkel, but he fought them off. More followed, a pack of vermin that even the prince, with all his fighting skill, could not eliminate.

  The bleeding gashes took a toll on Cihkel. His movements slowed. Finally, the press of reavers overwhelmed him, and Seagem’s crown prince went down.

  A roar of triumph burst from the marauders. The horde stormed up the quay. Those still on the loading dock jumped off, leaving Cihkel to lie where he’d fallen, his blood seeping into the wood.

  His arm suddenly weak, Thaddis lowered the spyglass. He should have felt triumphant, and he waited for the rush of emotion to fill him, but it didn’t come. Instead, Ontarem’s satisfaction ate at his feelings and fed on the emotions from all those who fought, growing in power. In his passionate defense of Seagem, and in his dying, Cihkel had strengthened Ontarem.

  Thaddis took a steadying breath and again raised the spyglass to view the greenstone palace on the cliff above the harbor. Iceros, King of Seagem, stood on a balcony waiting, grim expression, bow in hands, and his helm resting on the railing. As he viewed the reavers overpowering his soldiers, his face remained impassive, but Thaddis knew the sight of his dying city must be tearing out his guts. The king would be busy soon, defending his palace, and all who sheltered within. But to no avail. Thaddis would defeat the older king and conquer Seagem.

  Had Iceros felt his heir’s heartline snap? No. He doubted the king possessed enough power. But his daughter….

  Thaddis focused the spyglass to the right, to the balcony next to the king’s. Princess Daria came in sight. Unlike her father, she paced the space, her long blond braid swinging like the twitch of an angry cat’s tail. She, too, carried a bow ready to shoot when the first wave of invaders reached the courtyard in front of the palace.

  He smiled at his quarry. Soon you will be mine, princess….

  Thaddis turned his attention back to the harbor. The seadogs cleared the docks of defenders, leaving crumpled, bloodied bodies all around them. Here and there, citizens and soldiers waged solitary battles.

  Thaddis raised his hand and made a forward motion.

  A horn blared. The sound echoed from the other two ships. Sailors rushed to the longboats. The black-uniformed soldiers climbed in. The sailors lowered the boats over the sides of the Vengeance and rowed them to the quay.

  Thaddis nodded at the captain of his private guard and strode to his longboat, bigger and more luxurious than the others. His guard settled around him, and, with a jerk that had him grasping the bench, the boat was swung over the side and lowered into the water.

  As the boat cut through the turquoise water, Thaddis ignored the mangled bodies and other debris floating in the brine. Nor did he pay attention as the final fights sputtered to an end. His attention focused on the palace—on his goal.

  Once they’d disembarked, the group tramped up the wide road leading to the castle. Thaddis spared a thought of annoyance that he didn’t have a carriage. Not that he hadn’t run through these streets enough as a lad… For a second, a memory flashed—he and Indaran scampering through alleys, dodging an irate watchman who’d fallen victim to one of their pranks…hiding in a dark corner and covering each other’s mouths lest their laughter give them away.

  From a side street, a group of soldiers in green uniforms rushed into the main thoroughfare. One shouted his name and pointed. The soldiers converged on his guard. They fought for their city, their people, their families, their king with the wild strength of hopeless men.

  A burly fellow broke through the royal guard and with a growl leapt at Thaddis, jabbing with his sword. Anger convulsed his ruddy face. The soldier had some skill, forcing Thaddis to defend himself. He fought with cold necessity, his movements automatic. He slashed across the man’s arm.

  The soldier’s arm bled and his block slipped.

  Thaddis ran him through. He shook the soldier off his sword and stepped over the body. His remaining guards surrounded him, forming a wedge that blasted through any defenders the seadogs had left alive. Bloody sword in hand, Thaddis began to jog toward the castle, eager to claim his bride.

  CHAPTER TWO

  EARTH, ISRAEL

  PRESENT DAY

  The beeping of a machine jerked Sadie Isaacson awake. She straightened in the chair, wincing at the crick in her neck from sleeping with her head on the foot of her grandmother’s hospital bed.

  She opened and shut her dry eyes a few times, trying to make them focus. Then she checked on her grandmother, lying withered and pale near death. A while had passed since her grandmother had last woken, much less spoken, but Sadie hadn’t given up hope that she would again. Before the end.

  Beyond the partly-opened door of the room, Sadie could hear the bustle of the hospital and the sound of voices. But in the room there was silence, except for the occasional beep from one of the machines connected to her beloved grandmother, her last living relative.

  Please, wake up.

  As if her grandmother had heard her wish, she slowly opened her eyes and blinked in confusion. She turned her head toward Sadie.

  “I’m here, Bubby,” Sadie said in Yiddish, the language her grandmother preferred. She smoothed away strands of hair that had escaped from her grandmother’s long gray braid and now curled near the faded brown eyes—eyes that had lost their alertness several weeks ago.

  Bubby tried to smile. “I’m…going, Zeesa.”

  “I know.” Just saying the words made Sadie’s throat close up.

  “I hate to…I hate to leave…you alone.”

  Sadie tried to speak, but couldn’t. Instead, she tried to smile through her tears.

  Her grandmother inched her fingers over to the side of the bed.

  Sadie reached out and took her hand, feeling the papery skin slide over fragile bird bones.

  “I’ll be…with my Avi.”

  Sadie had to lean closer to hear her gasping words.

  “I wanted to…die when…he did.”

  She knew her grandmother referred to 1948. Her grandparents had safely hidden through most of World War II, until the Nazis caught them a few months before the end. Weakened by deprivation, her grandfather died. Her grandmother, with her strong spirit, survived the concentration camp, miraculously still pregnant with the baby the couple had conceived just before their capture.

  Sadie gently squeezed her grandmother’s hand.

  “I…I had…to live…for the baby growing…inside me.”

  Sadie gave her a tender smile. “I’m glad you did.”

  “I’d given up…hope that…your father…would give me a grandchild…. ’til you. You’ve been…my light, Sadie.”

  Sadie’s tears spilled over. One dripped on their entwined hands. “And you’ve bee
n the best grandmother ever.”

  “I would go…through it all…again…just to have…you, Zeesa.”

  Sadie stood and bent to kiss her grandmother’s forehead. “I love you. I always will. Go in peace, Bubby.”

  Her grandmother’s hand tightened on hers, and her expression became anxious. “The medallion.”

  What’s she talking about?

  “Underwear…drawer....”

  Was Bubby hallucinating? Or had Sadie misunderstood her? Her Yiddish wasn’t the best. “Do you have a medallion in your underwear drawer?”

  “Yes.” The word was almost a sigh. “Return....” Her grandmother’s eyes fluttered close. She drifted back into sleep.

  A soft knock on the doorframe made Sadie look in that direction. A short man with a prominent nose stood there. He wore a prayer shawl draped over his shoulders and, when he gave her a polite dip of his head, she saw a yarmulke attached to his short, curly hair with two bobby pins. The expression on his thin face was pleasant, but her hackles rose at the sight of him.

  “I’m Rabbi Kamins,” he said in heavily accented English. “I heard about your grandmother, and I have come to offer words of comfort…to pray with you.”

  “No!” Sadie held back an instinctive growl. She forced herself to soften her tone, to sound polite. “Thank you, we’re fine.”

  His bushy eyebrows rose. “The nurse tells me your grandmother doesn’t have long….that you two are very close….”

  “My grandmother doesn’t believe in God.” Sadie crossed her arms over her chest. “Nor do I.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I will still bid you peace. Shalom.”

  She nodded a dismissal.

  He stepped outside the room. “Shema Yisrael…”

  Sadie strode over to the door and, for the sake of her grandmother and the other patients, didn’t slam it shut. Once she’d closed the door, she leaned back and let out a tired exhale, then walked over to resume her vigil at her grandmother’s side.

  Sadie stayed with Bubby through the quiet hours that followed, until her grandmother slipped away to join her husband and son.

  The minute her grandmother’s spirit left her body, Sadie felt the transition—an absence of the loving presence that had supported Sadie all her life. One minute her grandmother was there, the next she was gone.

  “Good-bye, Bubby. I love…” Sadie whispered. But she couldn’t finish the words. Leaning over, she rested her forehead on her grandmother’s hand. “What am I going to do without you?”

  ~ ~ ~

  Sadie floated over an azure sea, drawn to distant peaks rising from the ocean. Overhead, the sun brightened a lavender sky. Curious, she allowed herself to be pulled through the air, almost as if she’d caught a current.

  As she drifted closer, the peaks turned out to be islands rising from the ocean, although instead of the tropical lushness she expected, a gray miasma swirled and undulated above the land. Waves thrashing against the sides of the islands parted the mist and briefly revealed clinging vegetation before the grayness swallowed any sight of the rocky sides.

  The wind current pulled her until she hovered above the scene. From the overhead view, Sadie could see three mountainous islands piercing the fog, each one the point of an equilateral triangle. Harbors on all three isles faced away from the middle. Buildings made of lava rock stair-stepped up the foot of the mountains. Wooden sailing ships like the ones she’d seen in historical movies floated in the harbors. Massive walls of lava brick separated each village into two sections, reminding her somehow of the walls that had imprisoned the Jews in concentration camps in WWll.

  The ocean in between the islands roiled storm-gray, so different from the translucent turquoise water she’d flown over.

  They’re too perfectly aligned to be natural.

  A gray light like a searchlight beamed from the top of each island, converging at a midpoint between them at the surface of the water. Here, the ocean churned.

  The air current lowered her closer, and Sadie shrank away, backpedaling to avoid getting sucked into the lasers or whatever they were. But her wishes didn’t matter. Instead, she dropped within ten yards of the ocean’s surface. She braced herself for the impact with the water, but instead, her momentum stopped, and she hovered above the sea like she was cupped in an unseen hand.

  Now Sadie could see into the water. Something lurked underneath the spot where the three beams met. Since it seemed important, she narrowed her eyes, trying to make out what was there.

  She thought she saw a man, a giant man. No, it couldn’t be, not under water.

  Again, she peered. But it was. He sat in a high-backed chair, like a throne. The chair didn’t move with the water, but remained fixed. The man…alien…whatever he was, slumped against the back, his head lolling. Something rested on his lap; she couldn’t discern what. But a wave smoothed for an instant, and she saw a golden trident, broken in two pieces.

  Neptune?

  This is a very weird dream.

  But it didn’t feel like a dream.

  Murmuring came, not to her ears, but inside her mind. She strained to decipher the words. They repeated over and over until she finally understood.

  “Help me!”

  ~ ~ ~

  The residual impressions of the dream stayed with Sadie the next day. Already feeling heart-heavy with grief, her thoughts kept moving from images of her grandmother to a vision of the submerged man. To distract herself, she continued the sorting and packing she’d been doing with her grandmother’s possessions for the last week. She’d already given things away to friends or donated them to a charity. All the rooms were finished except the master bedroom. After choosing something for her grandmother to wear for the burial, Sadie had packed away her Bubby’s clothes.

  Sadie rolled her shoulder, trying to stretch the ever-present ache from her injury, and eyed the maple chest of drawers placed under the window overlooking the back courtyard. The bureau contained the last items she needed to sort through and give away. Once she’d finished….

  Sadie shied away from the thoughts of the emptiness of her future. As she reached for the top drawer, the memory of Bubby’s request to return the medallion came to her.

  How could I have forgotten?

  Sadie eased open the drawer to see Bubby’s old-lady undies neatly folded on one side, her serviceable bras on the other. A lace sachet in the middle emitted Bubby’s familiar scent, making tears prick Sadie’s eyes. Resolutely she blinked them away.

  Beneath the underwear lay a white cardboard jewelry box. When Sadie lifted the lid, a brass medallion that looked almost like a large coin with a “Y” stamped on the front gleamed on a bed of cotton. The top held a loop for a chain.

  Carefully, with thumb and forefinger, she picked up the medallion, turning it over to see if anything was on the back. But the other side was smooth, although obvious signs of wear showed that the piece wasn’t new.

  Where did this come from and why didn’t Bubby tell me about it?

  Laid against her palm, the coin warmed, tingling her hand. With a gasp, Sadie studied the surface but couldn’t see what caused the sensation.

  Uneasy, she put the medallion back in the box, leaving the top off so she could still see the coin, then set it on the surface of the dresser while she finished emptying the drawers. Once she’d packed everything, Sadie picked up the box again to look at the medallion. Then she carried it into the living room and set it on top of her backpack.

  A knock sounded. Sadie opened the front door to find Devorah Cohen, the neighbor across the hall who’d always looked out for her grandmother. Sadie invited her in.

  Plump Devorah, dressed in a navy blouse and skirt with matching blue canvas shoes, stepped inside and looked around the empty room, sadness on her good-natured face. “Are you ready to go?” she asked in Hebrew.

  “I just finished,” Sadie replied in the same language. “I was going to knock on your door in a few minutes to say good-bye.”

  D
evorah wiped tears from her round, wrinkled cheeks. “We’ve been friends for twenty years, your grandmother and I.” She shook her head, causing her frizzy white curls to bounce around her face. “It won’t be the same here without her.”

  Sadie’s heart crimped with grief. “I know.”

  Devorah gave a reminiscing smile. “Summers were Irina’s favorite time of year because you were here.”

  “They were special for me, too.”

  “Irina looked forward to your visit all year around.”

  “Bubby was too stubborn to move to America and live with Dad and me. But I knew that she was in good hands with you and her other friends. Everyone here loved her, which eased my mind.”

  “I wish she’d have allowed a funeral and for us to sit shiva.”

  “You know my grandmother left her faith back in Dachau.”

  Devorah sniffed, obviously stopping herself from more crying. “So you’re returning to America?”

  “Yes. Time to get back to training.”

  “Ach, you and that sword.”

  “I’ve been told that before,” Sadie joked.

  “Irina was always so proud of you.”

  A lump squeezed into Sadie’s throat. One of her victory visions during the long years of sabre training for the Olympics had been of her grandmother watching her on television…of afterwards flying to Israel and laying a gold medal in Bubby’s hand.

  “I know.” Sadie straightened her shoulders. “I’ve been giving everything away but the bed and bedding, a few dishes, and her clothes. They’re boxed up in the bedroom. You’ll see that they’re given to people who need them?”

  “Of course.”

  Devorah looked down at Sadie’s backpack and saw the little box sitting on top. She pointed. “Is that the medallion?”

  Sadie nodded, hoping the neighbor would have some information.

  Devorah’s hand fluttered. “I remember when your grandmother found that. I’d just moved in. We had tea, and she showed it to me. Excited about it, your grandmother was.”

  Sadie’s interest quickened, “Do you know where she found it?”