Glorious Companions Read online

  GLORIOUS COMPANIONS

  The Entire 4-Book Series

  by

  SUMMER LEE

  Acclaim for Summer Lee:

  “The story ends with some major cliffhangers, leaving the reader with hope for a sequel to this fascinating book. I know I will be looking forward to it!”

  —Kwips and Kritiques

  “Congratulations to Mrs. Lee for a moving conclusion to a wonderful series!”

  —Wild On Books

  “Kindred Spirits is a deeply moving and fascinating look at life before the Great Flood. I loved this book!”

  —J.R. Rain, author of Moon Dance and The Body Departed

  “Thrilling, adventurous, and deeply romantic!”

  —Elaine Babich, author Relatively Normal and You Never Called Me Princess on Summer Lee’s Angel Heart

  OTHER BOOKS BY SUMMER LEE

  Angel Heart

  Kindred Spirits

  Royal Family

  Awaken the Passion

  Beach Angel

  Standing Strong

  The Moses Staff

  Glorious Companions: The Entire 4-Book Series

  Published by Summer Lee

  Copyright © 2011 by Summer Lee

  Ebook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Angel Heart

  Kindred Spirits

  Royal Family

  Awaken the Passion

  Reading Sample

  About the Author

  ANGEL HEART

  Glorious Companions #1

  Copyright © 2010 by Summer Lee

  Dedication

  To my husband, John, with all my love.

  Acknowledgments

  A special thank you to Sandy Johnston for all of her hard work!

  Angel Heart

  Chapter One

  Millennia ago…

  On the steep, rocky path, a silver-backed jackal broke out from the thorn bushes and charged their little traveling party.

  Bo and Gauss leaped down from their donkeys and swiftly speared the snarling creature. Before Kenana could even scream, it was over. The jackal lay dead in the road and Bo and Gauss cleaned off the tips of their spears in the sand.

  “Right in the heart, Bo,” Gauss said. “An impressive strike, my friend.”

  “El guided my spear,” Bo said modestly.

  “We must hurry away,” Gauss said, looking at Kenana, his eyes worried.

  “More jackals will come?” she asked.

  “Yes, madam,” said Bo. “They are pack animals and his kin will not be far behind. If we are lucky, they will stop and feed on his corpse instead of pursuing us.”

  The three of them bounced their heels gently on the donkeys’ sides, hurrying them into a trot. Gauss stayed in the rear, his head turned back to watch if any more jackals approached from behind them. He had his spear in one hand and a long knife in the other. Bo rode right next to Kenana, his spear at the ready.

  Kenana’s heart raced with the danger they had faced at almost every turn on the trip. There had been bandits on the journey and they had had to hide from them high in the hills. There had been wild animals. But most of all, there had been heat and there had been intense thirst. Reduced to drinking wine instead of water on the journey when they found a known spring had dried up, she had not felt well since that point in the trip.

  After many more hours, finally, they saw civilization. There were many people on the road now. She relaxed a little, feeling safer at the number of travelers and small dwellings dotted here and there by the side of the road.

  Bo and Gauss slowed and then stopped the small procession to rest the donkeys, which were lathered and breathing hard from their sustained hurried pace.

  Gauss said, “Thanks be to El. Our dangerous and long journey is almost over.”

  The valley was as she remembered it: unspoiled, serene and majestic. The Mesopotamian hamlet of Adah was bustling with traders, travelers, soldiers, and children with their mothers.

  “Madam, may we wipe the dust from your garments before you see your betrothed?” Bo asked.

  She nodded. She must look very dirty for Bo to offer before she’d even asked.

  Kenana’s life, as she had once known it, had disappeared behind her in the desert dust. At eighteen, she was the daughter of a farmer who was now traveling to wed the wealthy Prince Jubal.

  She held out her arms to be cleaned off. The red dust of the road covered her clothing from head to toe, and Bo and Gauss as well. She knew they all needed a bath, even if it was in a river. She had never been so gritty in all her life.

  Bo and Gauss wiped as much dust as they could from her clothing. Gauss handed her a bronze mirror and a tortoiseshell comb. She did the best she could with her road-worn appearance, pulling the tangles from her long hair and braiding it, even smoothing some carmine on her lips. She used a bit of perfumed oil to disguise the fact that she hadn’t bathed for two weeks. It would have to do for now.

  Her two male slaves, Gauss and Bo, were powerfully built and loyal. They had afforded her protection and companionship during the long journey through the desert and they were all that she had left of her old life. The slaves would be presented to the prince as wedding gifts from her parents. She hoped they would not be unhappy or mistreated in the new household.

  When her garments were more presentable, they continued on.

  “You will be a fine princess,” Gauss said.

  “A fine princess,” Bo echoed.

  Kenana smiled at their encouragement and held her back a little straighter, in case anyone was watching her. She knew there would be tongues wagging about her arrival, and she wanted to make a good impression. A regal impression.

  After all, this was going to be her kingdom, too.

  Prince Jubal’s realm was strategically nestled within the high valley walls, providing both coolness from the oppressive year-round heat and fortification from invading enemies. The residence itself, a sprawling three-story stone compound, was fit for a prince.

  Princess Kenana. She tested the words in her mind, but the title gave her no real pleasure. Instead, she felt sickened to the core, for Prince Jubal was an old man. But he was not just an old man. He was a vile man. She tried not to think of the things that he had done to her in the past.

  Kenana sighed, studied the beautiful canyon as her clomping donkey shook its mangy head against the onslaught of insects. She tried to shoo the biting flies from the poor donkey’s ears. “Poor Mae!”

  Gnarled cypresses, clumped in groves, pressed up along a narrow stream that flowed along the canyon floor. Many people were busy at the stream or in it, from washing clothes and children to fishing with nets and filling jars with water.

  “Do you want to stop for a bath in the little stream, madam?” Bo asked.

  “No, there is no privacy.”

  He nodded.

  She asked, “Did you ask me because you want a bath, too?”

  Bo nodded and Kenana laughed.

  “Do you not care that there is no privacy?”

  “No, madam, as I have never smelled this badly.”

  “Nor I,” she agreed.

  They all laughed then.

  “By El, I must have a drink of water,” Kenana said, knowing they had none left.

  “We have only wine, madam,” Gauss replied.

  “Only water will properly slake my thirst.” She licked her lips, looking at the stream.

  “Shall I go down and fetch water for us?” Bo asked.

  “Wait, Bo,” Kenana said, looking at all of the people walking on the road, which ha
d widened. “Perhaps water will come to us.”

  When a tall, beautiful woman carrying a large jar of water on her head approached, Gauss waved her over. She did not speak their language, but understood what they wanted. She gave them all a drink with her own dipper. The water was so cool and sweet that they all exclaimed over it and gestured to thank her. Bo gave her two dried figs in thanks and she smiled. Then they went on their way again.

  “This is a good land, with good people,” Kenana said.

  “Indeed,” Gauss replied.

  Hawks and eagles circled above, screeching plaintively. The air was dry, heavily fragranced with desert flowers. Kenana decided if she could pick anywhere in the world to live, this would be it. Of course, she had hardly seen much of the world.

  She had always known that her mother was cruel enough to arrange this marriage, but it had truly been a surprise to discover that her father had also been a willing participant. Her father had insisted that marrying a prince was a blessing.

  Kenana did not see it that way. The prince was old enough to be her grandfather, and she had always been uneasy in his presence, even as a child. Because the prince and her father were old friends, she could not bring herself to tell her father how vile the prince was. She did not care to guess which side her father would take.

  Now, as she and the two slaves approached the heavily guarded estate, the evening sky was afire with the setting sun. Streaks of gold and crimson stretched as far as the eye could see. A high stone wall encircled the property, meant to keep invading armies at bay—and young brides from being kidnapped and ransomed back. Or worse.

  She shuddered involuntarily.

  Blocking their way was a spiked iron gate, with two guards standing on either side.

  Gauss said bravely, “I announce the arrival of Kenana, betrothed of Prince Jubal and soon-to-be Princess of Adah.”

  The guards simply nodded and bowed, their polished bronze helmets catching the last of the sun’s rays. They moved their spears aside and nodded, granting them entrance.

  Kenana tilted her head in acknowledgment as they opened the spiked iron gate and closed it behind them.

  Her donkey was led through the gates and now, more guards came to meet them. Bo and Gauss followed respectfully behind her on their donkeys.

  They followed a cobblestone path into a wonderland of flowers and plants. Kenana always felt that Jubal’s ornate gardens could have easily passed for the Garden of Eden. Kenana recognized roses, birds of paradise, daisies and azaleas, all manicured and trimmed to perfection. Bo and Gauss looked thunderstruck. Both were simple slaves, from the deserts outside of Mesopotamia, and neither had seen beauty on such a magnificent scale. Even Mae, her longtime donkey and friend, paused to sniff at the flower-perfumed air.

  Suddenly, a shocking realization occurred to her: soon these gardens would be hers.

  There are, she thought, some advantages to becoming a princess.

  The three travelers moved along a torch-lit path lined with a half-dozen armed sentries. The warriors, most of them leaning on long spears, watched them casually, bowing when appropriate. She caught some of them casting admiring sidelong glances at her. She ignored them. Long ago, as a young girl visiting Prince Jubal with her father, she had learned to ignore the leering gazes of the lonely soldiers. No good could come of encouraging such familiarity with them. She kept her distance.

  Beyond the row of guards was the vegetable garden. Back home, this garden would have been large enough to feed her entire village, but Kenana knew that this garden was only to feed one house, Prince Jubal’s house. Obviously, he stored up a lot of food or entertained many guests.

  In the center of the garden was a massive oak tree and hanging from one of its monstrous limbs was a rope swing. Sitting on it, swaying gently, was a very handsome man with silver hair. His exquisite face glowed radiantly, almost supernaturally. Dark, brooding eyes regarded Kenana unblinkingly. Kenana shifted uncomfortably on the saddle blanket under the power of his gaze. She was energized and fascinated by this man’s rare beauty, but also cautious.

  There was also something oddly familiar about him. Frustratingly, she could not remember what. But it was a haunting memory that seemed to linger deep in her soul, as elusive as a sweet dream.

  Then his full lips broke into a smile and his teeth shone brightly. His eyes sparkled with a light that was not of this world. She returned the smile just as her donkey’s front hooves stepped into a shallow hole disguised as a mud puddle. The donkey’s front legs buckled and Kenana pitched forward as the animal stumbled. She screamed, trying to hold tight to the creature’s neck, but she lost her grip and cartwheeled to the hard-packed earth. She landed hard, skidding on her rear end. Gauss fought to regain control of the confused creature, as Bo easily lifted her back onto the saddle blanket.

  “Are you injured, madam?”

  “No,” she snapped hastily, embarrassed, and swiping a long strand of golden hair from her eyes. She looked immediately in the direction of the swing.

  The silver-haired man was gone—the swing was empty, but moving slightly.

  She kicked her heels sharply into the donkey’s flanks and urged the creature into the garden, toward the swing. She followed a narrow path through rows of onions and cucumbers and stopped before the oak tree. Peering down from her perch, she scanned the area. Where had the man gone?

  And then she spotted something that was truly disturbing.

  She slid easily from the donkey and searched the dark soil beneath the swing, wet with the recent rains. The soil was undisturbed, except for their own footprints. No other footprints. In fact, there was very little sign that the swing had ever been used at all.

  She bit her lower lip, eyes sweeping the garden. She searched the rows of leeks, garlic, and lentils.

  There was no sign of him.

  *

  She eased the creature out of the garden, feeling foolish and confused. Had she imagined the beautiful man? Was her mind playing tricks on her after the long day’s ride under the sweltering sun?

  But does a trick of the mind smile warmly?

  She doubted it.

  Here one minute and gone the next. Like an angel….

  Kenana’s father, Eber, had always taught her that angels existed, that she, in fact, had a personal angel to comfort and protect her. Visitations from the spirit world were common in her paternal family. Her grandfather, Enoch, was a revered prophet of El. Eber had said that Enoch talked to angels, and observed them firsthand. Kenana believed the stories.

  It would not be strange for Kenana, the granddaughter of the famous prophet, to be visited by her guardian angel. But why would he make himself visible on the eve of her wedding day? Angel or not, as soon as she had a free moment, she would come back to the swing.

  Perhaps the beautiful stranger would reappear.

  *

  The three travelers arrived before the manor house. Kenana dismounted, swinging her long legs down to the pebble-strewn entrance. She handed the reins to Gauss.

  “Please take Mae to the stable,” she said to the older slave.

  “Yes, madam,” said the dark-haired Gauss.

  “You will then be responsible to locate the slave quarters, and to make arrangements for your quarters with the slave master for yourself and Bo.”

  “Yes, madam.”

  “If anything seems untoward or if anyone mistreats you, tell me at once. As I am to become mistress of this house, I will see to it that you are well treated and well fed. I expect a full description of your quarters and your tasks.”

  “Yes, madam. I suppose they shall work us in the fields and gardens, for that is what we are accustomed to and perhaps sometimes we shall sleep there, under the stars, in good weather.” Gauss flashed a smile and moved off. He had been doing that a lot of late: the warm, almost loving smiles.

  She wondered if he had developed a crush on her. He was a nice-looking boy, of good physical stock. The thought pleased her, but she would not
pursue it. It was forbidden and Gauss could be sentenced to die if he ever touched her, other than in his duties to protect and serve her.

  Kenana turned to the younger slave, the blond-haired Bo.

  “Unload the baggage from the other donkey. Then, attend to both animals,” she commanded.

  “Yes, madam.” He set off to work immediately.

  Kenana watched them both briefly while gathering her nerve. Finally, she turned and started up the walkway, feeling enslaved herself. Her lifelong dream to marry for love was about to be destroyed forever.

  She continued forward along the path that led to the antiquated estate. Her future home. Or would it become her prison?

  I have little choice but to marry Prince Jubal, she thought, sighing. Women cannot choose their husbands in Mesopotamia, and my marriage has been arranged for me.

  The palatial yard, which she had not visited for many years, looked unchanged from the days when she romped here as a child when her father had brought her to meet Prince Jubal.

  In the flower garden, on the west side of the home, were the same alabaster benches. She recalled seeing her father, Eber, and his best friend, Prince Jubal, waste many precious hours talking about things of no value to her. Politics, crops, trade, and slaves. There was much talk of wealth building and weather. And of their sons’ accomplishments.

  Of course, that was years ago when life had been simple. She was no longer a child, and was now mature enough to marry a wealthy widower who was old enough himself to be her grandfather.

  A wave of revulsion swept through her body as she knew she would be expected to produce an heir. She paused in mid-step and fought the urge to retch. She would soon learn whether this marriage was an act of cruelty or kindness. She inhaled deeply and held her head high, moving with confidence toward her fate.

  Kenana believed she had strength to become the best princess Mesopotamia had ever had. If only Prince Jubal would let her do it her way.

  Chapter Two

  As Kenana approached the palace entrance, the colossal double front doors creaked open and a tall slender matron dressed in a blue frock appeared. “Madam Kenana, I presume,” she said kindly. The dialect of her language was slightly different, but understandable.