In anticipation of India Edghill's newest release, Delilah, we wanted to
give you a sneak peek of the book. Delilah, which received four stars in the
December issue of RT, will be released next month from St. Martin's Press.

"The day of the First Dance, Aylah and I rose before dawn, that we

might be ready to dance the Sun Partridge across the sky. By the time

the sun burned away night’s last shadows, we stood hand in hand at

Ascalon’s Eastern Gate, awaiting the fi rst clash of timbrils and beat of

drums. Aylah’s skin was cool; she always seemed cool— but my blood

raced hot, and as soon I heard the fi rst chime of music I began to dance.

We danced along the wide main street that ran straight through Ascalon

from the Eastern Gate to the Sea Gate, and behind us fell in all

the rest who would dance with the Sun Partridge. Some would dance

the entire pattern, from Eastern Gate to the Sea and then back again;

others would manage only a few turns before dropping out to celebrate

the festival in other ways. It didn’t matter.

I danced, and that was all I cared about.

We wove through Ascalon’s garlanded streets, past shops and wine

booths and people shaking rattles and beating on drums, adding to the

noise of the musicians and the singing crowd. Men and women danced

for a street or two and then dropped away as others joined the line. I

kept dancing, sure- footed and joyous; I had spent many hours memorizing

the path through the streets that we were to follow and never

faltered at a turn.

Pride is a fault; I grew too confident. We led the dance through a

street full of booths selling festival trinkets and sweetmeats. At the

corner where I must turn next, I dipped and twirled, and nearly fell;

something had caught my hair.

My concentration on the Dance slipped from me, and for a moment

I paused, trapped between one turning step and the next. My swinging

curls had hooked upon a booth’s garland, bells and blue ribbons tangling

with crimson roses. I could not pull free, and I dared not stop—

All this took less time than three beats of my heart. Then a man tall

and golden as the Sun Himself shoved forward and, with a fl ash of

bright metal, sliced through ribbons and roses, freeing me to dance

on. His fingers brushed my cheek as I turned, a caress swift and hot as

flame. I had no time to do more than smile at him and see him smile

back before the Dance itself swept us apart.

But as I swirled away from him in the turns of the spiral dance, I

carried with me the memory of his smile, and of his eyes burning the

clear hot blue of the sky above us.

Delight in the Dance consumed me; I felt neither thirst nor weariness. I

felt nothing but joy until the First Dance ended, back at the Eastern

Gate as the sun reached the top of the sky. When I stopped moving, all

strength drained from me, and I would have fallen had not servants

from the Temple waited to hold us up and press goblets of clear water

into our trembling hands. For once Aylah seemed as shaken as I; we

smiled at each other as we tried to drink, only to find our shaking

hands spilled the water down over our breasts. I had not thought I

would be so tired, and was grateful to step into a palanquin plentifully

supplied with cushions and with wine and sweet foods.

As we were carried home to the House of Atargatis, I summoned the

strength to ask Aylah whether she had found joy in leading the dancing.

“I had not expected to be either so happy or so tired after,” I said, and

Aylah smiled and handed me a small round cake sticky with honey and

sharp with cinnamon.

“I had expected to be so tired, but I had not expected to be so

happy,” she said. “Yes, Delilah, I found joy in the Dance. But for once

no one was watching to judge if my every step was perfect and every

gesture faultless.”

“Praise Atargatis for that, for I nearly ruined the entire Dance,” I

said, and Aylah laughed, a thing she did not often do.

“Oh, Sister, you always think you will ruin everything! You are not

Our Lady Herself, you know.”

“This time it is true. When we went through the street jammed with

festival booths—”

“That was all of them,” Aylah pointed out. “Eat, Delilah, before

you faint from weariness.” She licked honey from her fingers before

reaching for a dish of silvered almonds.

“We had to turn a corner,” I went on, “and my hair caught upon a

garland. I thought I would fall— you must have noticed.” I took a bite

of the small cake, savoring the mix of sweet and sharp flavors, as Aylah

shook her head.

“No. Eat more.”

“The whole Dance would have fallen, but a man cut the garland

free. You must have noticed him?”

Again she shook her head. “I tell you again, Delilah, I saw nothing. I

was dancing, remember? And trying to keep up with you.”

I felt oddly disappointed. “You did not see him? He was very tall,

tall as a god, and golden as a lion, and he smiled—”

“Well, in that case I am sorry I did not see him— but you seem to

have looked at him well enough for both of us.” Then, instead of asking

about the man who had saved the First Dance, she said, “For Our Lady’s

sake, stop nibbling like a mouse and eat! Don’t waste our one

chance to eat as much as we like without anyone saying we must not!”

Of course, I consoled myself as I obediently ate, I had looked upon

the man, and Aylah had not. If you had set eyes upon him, Aylah, you would not be so indifferent now!"

Delilah by India Edghill. Copyright (c) 2009 by the author and reprinted by
permission of St. Martin's Press, LLC