Lilah by Marek Halter Read Free Book Online

Sogdiam is also losing his temper, is he?’ Lilah took him by the shoulders, drew him to her and pressed her lips to his brow. ‘Forgive me, Sogdiam,’ she whispered. ‘It’s a bad day. Ezra’s angry, Axatria’s angry, you’re angry and I . . .’ Sobs rose in her throat. She hugged Sogdiam tighter, not so much to comfort him as to reassure herself. ‘Of course I see you, my Sogdiam. Of course I thank you.’ She kissed his eyelids. Sogdiam did not reply,and dared not put his arm round her waist. He stood stiffly, breathing in gasps and shaking all over.
    Lilah pushed him away gently. There was still so much mistrust in his eyes, she was reminded of a wild animal that could never be truly tamed. ‘Smile.’
    His lips stretched into a grimace that was not a smile but betrayed the depth of the affection he felt for her and his hunger for love.
    Lilah took his chin and forced him to look at her. ‘You’ll never be my husband, Sogdiam,’ she said quietly, ‘because I’m too old for you. But I’ll often regret that. And I know that we’ll always be friends.’
    They remained like that until Sogdiam, with a gleam in his eyes now, seemed convinced that Lilah was not joking. Then he freed himself. ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘There isn’t much spilt milk. I’ll wipe it up.’
    With a knot in her stomach, and surprised at the strength of her own feelings, Lilah watched him go about his work, cleaning and putting away the flat stone, the containers and the utensils. He was a serious and loyal young man, braver and more determined than most boys of his age in the upper town.
    â€˜I wasn’t inspecting your work, Sogdiam,’ she said. ‘I’m well aware you do far more than Ezra asks of you. I was just surprised by how empty the baskets are. Ezra eats nothing, and Master Baruch hasthe appetite of a bird, yet there’s almost nothing left of the barley and the dried vegetables that Axatria and I brought you last time. There must have been at least four or five
minas
of each. I find it hard to believe you ate the rest. And there’s no reason to throw it away.’
    Sogdiam did not reply immediately. ‘We don’t throw it,’ he admitted at last. ‘We give it away.’
    â€˜You give it away?’
    â€˜It was Ezra’s idea.’
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    Once again, Sogdiam took his time replying. He looked into the oven, where the biscuits were darkening. For some time now, the room had been filled with the sweet smell of barley, but neither had noticed.
    â€˜Your biscuits are turning brown,’ he said.
    â€˜Lord Almighty!’ Hurriedly Lilah seized a long wooden spatula and a thick serge cloth. She bent down to the oven, screwing up her eyes against the heat, skilfully prised the biscuits loose with the spatula, without breaking them, and collected them in the cloth. She stood up again, breathing hard, face bathed in sweat. ‘One moment more and they’d have burned.’
    â€˜The herb tea must be ready, too,’ Sogdiam said, and he took the pitcher out of the oven.
    Lilah placed the steaming golden biscuits on aplatter of woven palms, then added a few dates and the pot of milk. She looked at Sogdiam, who was filtering the tea into a large bowl. ‘What do you mean, you give away the food?’
    Sogdiam looked at her reproachfully. As reluctantly as if he were about to betray a secret, he pointed his chin at the courtyard. ‘Three or four moons ago, a woman from the
zorifes
came here. She was moaning so loudly you could have heard her in the upper town. We gave her a little barley.’ He stopped, and smiled. ‘Wait.’ He bent over the oven and took a small earthenware dish with a lid from beneath the ashes. ‘A surprise for Master Baruch,’ he announced, lifting the lid with a cloth and waiting for Lilah’s