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The Guardian's Promise
Christina Rich
A KINGDOM IN JEOPARDYAn evil queen and her royal guards will stop at nothing to find—and kill—the rightful heir to the throne of Judah. When their pursuit leads them to Mira’s village, only her father’s bondservant, Ari, a man shrouded in secrets, can keep Mira safe.Abandoning his life as a temple guard and becoming an indentured servant was the only way Ari could protect young Joash, the true King of Judah, from Queen Athaliah. But his sacred duty prevents him from confessing his feelings for his master’s daughter. With the future of their nation on the line, Ari and Mira will risk everything to save their people.


A Kingdom in Jeopardy
An evil queen and her royal guards will stop at nothing to find—and kill—the rightful heir to the throne of Judah. When their pursuit leads them to Mira’s village, only her father’s bond servant, Ari, a man shrouded in secrets, can keep Mira safe.
Abandoning his life as a temple guard and becoming an indentured servant was the only way Ari could protect young Joash, the true King of Judah, from Queen Athaliah. But his sacred duty prevents him from confessing his feelings for his master’s daughter. With the future of their nation on the line, Ari and Mira will risk everything to save their people.
“You should not be here alone.”
Mira turned, her lips tight, gaze guarded. “Who are you to tell me such?”
“A servant looking after his master’s interest.”
“I am a grown woman, able to care for myself. Just because I am maimed,” she bit out, “does not mean I’m helpless.”
Ari dropped his hands to his sides. “I did not mean—”
“Did you not? You are forever following me around. You would think Father bonded you to be my nurse.”
“I only think to repay your kindness for tending my wounds when I first arrived.”
“For seven years?” She sighed and walked farther down the lane.
Ari grabbed her arm, turning her back to him. Her cheeks flushed. He released her and stepped back. “If not for you, I would have died. I would not have you meet the same fate.” He tilted his head toward the guards.
Mira turned. Her hair brushed over his forearm, and the fragrance of henna blossoms tickled his nose. How had he not noticed this before? Odd, one touch after all these years and he was suddenly aware of how lovely she smelled.
CHRISTINA RICH
is a full-time housewife and mother. She lives in the Midwest with her husband and four children. She loves Jesus, history, researching her ancestry, fishing, reading and of course, writing romances woven with God’s grace, mercy and truth.
You can find more about her at www.authorchristinarich.com (http://www.authorchristinarich.com).
The Guardian’s Promise
Christina Rich

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For I desire mercy, and not sacrifice; and the knowledge of God more than burnt offerings.
—Hosea 6:6
All glory and honor goes to the One who gifted me with the desires of my heart, the One who heard my prayers, the One who blessed me with this story as I sat in church listening to His word. Thank you, Jehovah Nissi.
Contents
Chapter One (#u5a2defcd-a322-5d33-86e1-79e037de260f)
Chapter Two (#u21102e08-86cb-5dea-9431-fec5dcf9bd38)
Chapter Three (#ucdf8595a-a35e-57a9-8499-60b3d32e701d)
Chapter Four (#u10a99094-4ec8-5682-9633-561dc06ec057)
Chapter Five (#u9f90533f-21a4-503e-adf0-87a24b517324)
Chapter Six (#u61f24a3e-da04-5853-95b0-c193c224bc53)
Chapter Seven (#u42beb5bf-9859-57ca-8822-b98f161ad226)
Chapter Eight (#u32542fe8-a884-5fa8-928a-5d83afbbb1b9)
Chapter Nine (#ud0004a91-097c-5537-aea0-c83110de1691)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Near En Gedi, Judah
835 BC
Ari’s heart hammered in his chest as the horses thundered toward the groves. Instinct had him reaching for where his sword should have been, a sword he had discarded years ago when he’d traded his life of a warrior for that of a bond servant. He’d been a fool to leave his weapons hidden away when danger lurked close at hand, but he could not very well play the servant dressed as a soldier.
It would do no good to dwell on this lack of foresight, even if it had almost got him killed years ago. Instead, he picked up a curved lava stone and prepared for battle.
He peered around the corner. The queen’s soldiers brought their mounts to a halt on the dusty pathway, their eyes trained in the distance. Ari followed their line of sight and inhaled a sharp breath.
Sh’mira, his master’s daughter, stood at the edge of the grove. She cradled a white flower in her palm, her nose mere inches from the petals with her eyes closed. He knew she was lost in the fragrance as she was wont to do and completely unaware of her audience.
Hefting an empty pot onto his shoulders, he straightened to his full height. With the lava stone firm in his palm, he stepped out of the shadows and made as if he were about his everyday chores.
Perhaps his presence would discourage the warriors from their wicked intent, for their arrival could result in nothing but evil. Ever since Queen Athaliah had killed most of the royal family near seven years ago—her sons, daughters and grandchildren—the royal guards had terrorized all of Judah. Stories of their infamous conquests had reached even this remote village, putting fear into the hearts and minds of all. A fear that rivaled the fear of the fabled Leviathan and other sea monsters.
A horse snorted. Ari’s feet wobbled on the pebbles as he worked his way toward the grove. He’d never feared a battle before and although his warrior instincts thrummed through his veins, his years out of service shook his confidence. Perhaps, it was the crude scar on his thigh, a reminder of his last encounter with the queen’s men.
“You should not be here alone.”
Mira turned, her lips tight, gaze guarded. “Who are you to tell me such?”
He sat the clay pot to the ground and broke off a dying branch. “A servant looking after his master’s interest.”
“I am a grown woman, able to care for myself.” She jerked a withered limb from its mooring. “Just because I am maimed,” she bit, “does not mean I’m helpless.”
He dropped his hands to his sides. Her gaze a pool of desert water after a heavy rain. “I did not mean—”
This woman was far from helpless, he knew that.
“Did you not?” She tossed the branch into the pot. “You are forever following me around tending my duties. You would think Father bonded you to be my nurse.”
“I only think to repay your kindness for tending my wounds when I first arrived.”
“For seven years?” She let out a disgruntled sigh and walked farther down the lane.
“It has not been quite that long.” Ari grabbed her arm, turning her back to him. Her cheeks flushed and his warmed at the contact. He released her. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stepped back. He was nearing the end of his sixth year and beginning his seventh with her family, and he’d never touched her. The contact caught him off guard. “If not for you, I would have died. I would not have you meet the same fate.” He tilted his head toward the guards high on their mounts.
She leaned forward, peering around one of the trees, and then straightened. The length of her tresses brushed over his forearm like a feather. The flowery fragrance of henna blossoms tickled his nose. How had he not noticed this about her? Odd, one touch after all these years, and he was suddenly aware of how she smelled.
A whinny from the horse brought his head back to reality. He glanced over his shoulder and bit down on his tongue. The devastation left in the guards’ wake, remained fresh in his mind even after all these years. The young king’s mother had been badly used before they slit her throat. Fortunately, Jehosheba, the boy’s aunt and Tama, Mira’s cousin, who had been serving as a nurse in the palace, had the wits about them to take the babe from his dying mother, giving Judah hope for the future. A truth Mira did not know. “In their eyes, all women, young and old, are helpless.”
Mira’s gaze shifted toward the riders once again. “I will not cower before them.”
Her lack of cowardice was worthy of any warrior. However, it was not courage that fueled her attitude. “Would your pride see your father brokenhearted?”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “I wonder how a man of your wisdom became destitute enough to become a servant.”
The horses’ hooves came closer. “As you know, I repay a debt of kindness. Your father offered me refuge when I was wounded. Come.” He extended his hand toward the small village. “We must get you back within the walls of your home.”
The sound of the muffled clops halted, replaced by the creaking of leather as the men dismounted. Ari’s muscles tensed. He faced the pair of guards and forced his life’s blood to an even rhythm. The men standing before him were the queen’s own personal guards, which meant they were on a mission much higher than destroying altars to God and keeping peace. Had they discovered the child survived?
“Looks like we’ve interrupted two lovers.”
She squeaked. “You dare—”
Ari pierced her with a dark look and shoved her behind his back. He bowed his head. “Forgive my mistress.”
* * *
Words clung to the tip of her tongue. Self-control had never been one of her gifts. The blame could be tossed at Ari’s feet for causing her lack of speech. His humility had been replaced with an uncharacteristic bold protectiveness leaving her confused. Not to mention the touch on her arm had caused her knees to turn to honey and her toes to curl. Something Esha, the man seeking her hand in marriage, had never caused.
Who was this man who often offended her with his kindness? This man who insisted she was weak and helpless by his actions?
“She’s distraught over the immature crop.” Ari picked a budding green fruit from the tree as if to prove his statement.
“Your mistress, you say?” The taller of the two soldiers stepped forward and pushed Ari aside. He lifted his fingers and touched her hair.
Bile churned in her stomach. It was squashed when Ari grasped the guard’s wrist and stepped back in front of her. Protecting her like a shield. The shorter of the two soldiers placed his hand on the hilt of his sword even as he took a step back.
The man laughed. “You are bold, slave.”
“Servant. I am a servant.” He dropped the soldier’s wrist. “It is my duty to protect my master’s property. Including his daughter’s virtue.” Ari seemed to grow ten feet taller and two feet wider. His bronzed skin gleamed in the hot sun. His stance and bearing caused both guards to shrink. How had she not noticed how strong and handsome he was? Because he treats you like a crippled beggar.
“If this woman’s virtue is a matter of importance to her father, why does he allow her to venture away from her home alone and without covering her head?”
Mira bit down on her tongue. Her virtue was hers alone, not her father’s. Not any man’s. However, the law said otherwise. A law the guard did not recognize. She arched onto her toes and tried to peer over Ari’s shoulder. His silky black hair lifted on a breeze, tickling her nose and forcing her back to her feet.
Ari shifted, blocking more of her view. “Forgive me, we were under the belief God’s Law no longer matters.”
Laughter erupted from both the guards. “You are correct, slave. God is dead. The queen’s law rules this land, along with the wooden idols she worships.”
Hidden behind his back she couldn’t see much, but she could see the tick in Ari’s jaw, feel the heat emanating from his skin, the controlled anger exuding with each of his measured breaths. She knew he did not approve of Queen Athaliah’s worship of idols made by men, knew he continued to worship God and keep His commands.
A low rumble vibrated from Ari. “Her—”
She fisted Ari’s tunic in her hands, halting his words.
“Her father, my master is expecting us.”
Mira relaxed her hold on his garment but kept her fingers pressed against his back. His solid presence brought her comfort in the midst of danger, and for once she was thankful for his interference.
“Your master can wait.” The guard reached around Ari and grabbed ahold of her wrist.
Chapter Two
The soldier yanked on Mira’s arm, pulling her from behind Ari’s back. Ari bit down on the inside of his cheek. He would not allow this man to harm her. However, if he fought the men with the training he’d received among the temple guards, they’d know he was not who he seemed to be. They’d wonder why a warrior priest pretended to be a servant among a simple farmer and his family and Athaliah’s entire army would descend upon this tiny village with destruction. His years of servitude would be for naught if the rightful king of Judah met his death because Ari could not maintain control.
When the guard grabbed a handful of Mira’s hair and buried his nose in the locks, every muscle in Ari’s body vibrated with the need to kill him. He palmed the lava stone and shifted forward ready to die protecting his mistress as she had done for him when she’d fought off a pack of dogs ready to devour his battered body. That night, long ago, burned in his memory. The way she had fended off the dogs with no more than a firebrand. He had been beaten by men such as these, left barely alive only to be ravaged by wild animals. If it had not been for her and her courage, he would have died at the jaws of the hungry beasts. He would not allow her to be treated harshly by these men.
Lord, I need Your help.
The wail of a ram’s horn echoed across the rocky desert. A call Ari loved from his days as temple guard. The use of the shofar by the queen’s soldiers was one of many abominations marring Judah. It often brought great sorrow to his heart. However, he could not be more thankful for the answer to his hasty prayer.
“I promise to return,” the Queen’s guard said as he released Mira before he and his companion mounted their horses and cantered away. Praise God the patrol obeyed the command, leaving Mira unharmed.
She touched his arm, rocking him on his feet. Without thinking, he traced his finger along her brow and the curve of her ear, tucking her hair behind her back until his hand rested on her shoulders. “Are you well?”
“I am. Thank you.”
Her graciousness proved she’d had a fright. He’d been scared, too.
How close she had come to being used. Her chances for a good marriage near lost. He dropped his gaze to the finger imprints on her wrist and shoved his hand through his hair. Stepping away from her sweet innocence, he expelled the breath caught in his lungs. His pulse kicked.
He glanced toward where the soldiers had ridden. He refused to allow his pulse to settle until the dust cloud disappeared into the horizon.
“You should not leave the walls alone.” He faced her, arms crossed.
She swallowed. A wounded look fluttered through her eyes as she knotted her hands into her tunic. “I have chores to attend.”
Reaching out, he took her fingers in his. The tips warm in his palm. “Even so...”
Mira pulled away from him and released a shuddering breath. All civility between them gone. “Even so I will not live no better than a slave in my father’s house, being told when and where I can go.” She stalked away.
Her words cut, but he knew she said them out of fear. Fear of what those men could have done to her. What they might do if they returned as promised.
Guilt stabbed him at the thought of the queen’s cruel minions destroying the innocence of his master’s daughter. The soldiers preyed on the weak, the helpless.
How was he going to keep her safe from another incident if she insisted on being stubborn? For he had no doubt the guards would return.
His first priority was to protect the child king. Just as it had been since he’d followed Tama and the child to this small village that awful night. They’d left Jerusalem because of the danger, and now it seemed to have followed them here.
He scrubbed his palm over his face. Tama, the boy’s nurse, would no doubt miss her cousin, and Mira her, but perhaps it was time to take the child and leave. But to leave his master’s family, defenseless? Leave Mira to the mercy of the soldiers? There had to be a way to protect them all.
He returned to his work, his mind heavy. Why had the soldiers even come? And why now, after almost seven years of absence? He jabbed the lava stone into the basin and scooped out the last bit of mud. He smoothed the clay texture over the stones, filling the gaps in the rock wall.
“Shalom.”
Ari spun on his heel, the tool cutting into his palm. His eyes focused on the hunched, graying man before him. Ari bowed low before his master, whom he wanted to please. “Shalom, adon.”
His master gripped Ari’s shoulder. The warmth of the aged hand reminded him of the man’s waning strength.
“Come now, my son. There is no need to be startled. It is I, Caleb, your friend. Rise.”
Ari scraped the lava rock clean before balancing it on the edge of the earthen bowl. He dipped his hands into a small basin of water, scrubbed away the clinging plaster and dried them on a cloth.
Straightening to his full height, he scanned the area for a sign of the queen’s soldiers. “My forgiveness, Master Caleb. I had just seen the queen’s soldiers.”
“No forgiveness needed, Ariel. I saw them ride away in haste and wondered at their presence. Perhaps they are keeping peace.”
Peace, when they inflicted so much violence? Ari shifted his gaze beyond the rugged hills toward Jerusalem. When would Jehoiada, the high priest, send for them? Perhaps he should risk sending a message to the high priest about the increased patrols in the area? It was time to take the boy and leave. “Is that all, Master Caleb?”
“You have done a fine job, Ariel. It is nearly finished, yes?” Caleb ran his fingers over the contours of the piled stones.
“Another layer of plaster and it will be complete.” He had labored beneath the hot sun for months over what would be Mira’s portion of Caleb’s home once she married. He had prayed for her happiness and asked the Lord to bestow upon her great blessings as he had set the stones. It was the closest he would ever come to ministering to God’s people since he couldn’t perform the temple duties. Not that he bemoaned his fate. Keeping the young king safe was an honor.
Sorrow filled Caleb’s eyes. “These walls should have been built by Mira’s bridegroom.”
A protective instinct gripped Ari. He’d seen the way the men of the village steered clear of his master’s daughter. Even the promise of great wealth had not swayed many to seek out her hand and Esha, the one that did, was no more than a drunkard with idle hands refusing to help harvest the crops.
If Ari weren’t bound by vows already made before he had come to this village, he would offer his troth to her if only to save her from a cruel marriage to a sluggard. It was the least he owed her and Caleb for saving his life.
Caleb dropped his hands to his sides and sighed. “Alas, I fear she will never marry. I know I should force the issue. It is well past time for her to do so, and my health is waning.” He eyed Ari. “But who is worthy of her?”
The urge to respond expanded Ari’s chest. From all he’d seen, no man was worthy of Mira, even when she was contentious, a tendency that only seemed to occur with him, but it was not his place to say.
Caleb cocked his head to the side. “Forgive the ramblings of an old man?”
“There is naught to forgive, adon.”
“Come. Let us sit in the shade.” Caleb waved his hand toward the terebinth tree.
Taking his master’s arm, Ari helped him walk the short distance to the cut bench beneath the large tree where the thick leaves would shield them from the hot sun. Ari sat beside his master. Looking across the pale rocky desert, he waited for Caleb to speak, wondering if he should tell his master about the guards accosting his daughter.
“The Year of Jubilee is coming. I am certain the queen has sent her soldiers to ensure there will be no uprisings. Yet, that is not what troubles me.” Caleb drew in a slow breath. “Your time of servitude is near its end.”
Caleb’s soft tones skidded over Ari’s heart. Caleb had been all that was kind, and Ari would stay if God willed it. However, his life was not his own. Until he was released from his vow, his life belonged only to the Lord and his duty to protect the child.
“I know not whence you came or why or what choice you will make when it is time to release you.”
At this moment, Ari himself did not know if he would leave, or choose to remain bound to Caleb. The choice was not up to him, but God.
Caleb wrapped his fingers around Ari’s wrist. “I am an old man, Ari. I have come to think of you with great fondness.”
“As I you, adon,” Ari assured. Caleb had been like a father and Leah like a mother. While the affection he felt for them could never compare to his love for his own parents, he had grown to love them deeply. His years spent in the temple had blessed him with discipline, but garnered little, if any, affection outside his family’s travels to Jerusalem.
Caleb’s dark eyes pierced his. “Please. Allow me to finish. You have worked much harder than all my servants. Yet, I know,” he tapped his fist against his chest, “you are no man’s servant.”
No. Ari belonged to no man, only to the Lord.
“I do not know your quest or what lies ahead. You are a great teacher, Ariel, and should be teaching God’s laws.”
Ari thrust his fingers through his hair. Had Caleb discovered the truth?
He had never told Caleb about his past or the reasons he had sold himself as a servant. His master had never asked. If he did, Ari would not lie. But he could not, would not, confide in his master about his true mission.
“Do not worry over much, Ari. Perhaps, I assume incorrectly. You have a gift.” Caleb paused briefly. “You teach young Joash well the ways of the Lord. Ways not many are blessed with.”
Rising from the bench, Ari rolled his shoulders. His years of training for temple guard had never prepared him for the battle waging within his heart. Although Caleb’s assumptions were wrong, he was too close to the truth.
“I have taught all who were willing to listen to God’s law.”
Caleb nodded. “Yes, and as I said, a fine teacher you are, too. However, I cannot help but think your teachings are purely for the boy’s benefit.”
“You are mistaken. The boy is an eager learner, but,” Ari said, shaking his head, “it is for my benefit just as much as any.” In this he did not lie. Sharing the law kept him from forgetting the words written on his heart, for when he left Jerusalem, he had left most everything behind. His temple duties, his home...even his ambitions had been left in the tunnels beneath Jerusalem when their queen went on her murdering rampage, seeking to destroy her husband’s heirs, King David’s descendants.
“I mean no offense.” Caleb rose from the cut stone. “Come. It is hot. Let us get a drink from the well.”
Ari appreciated the change of subject, but he would rather convince Caleb that he had not singled the child king out when it came to teaching God’s laws. However, Ari could tell Caleb was done speaking on the subject. “Sh’mira has just gone that way.”
She would not approve of her father walking so far from his bed.
“Has she, now?” Caleb’s feet hesitated and then he smiled before resuming. “Let us see what my child has to say, today.”
The corners of Ari’s mouth lifted. Mira’s tongue could be viperous when she was in a good mood. Given the way she had left him only moments before, her mood was far from joyous. He should at least try and deter his master from a confrontation with his daughter.
“You should allow Leah to tend you, adon.” Ari grasped his master’s arm and assisted him along the cobbled pathway. Caleb’s tunic dragged along the stones.
“Bah, I may be old, but I can still walk outside of my walls. Even if my daughter thinks otherwise.”
Ari halted the chuckle in his chest. His master sounded much like his daughter. “The heat is heavy. Look.” He swiped beads of moisture from his forehead.
Caleb laughed. “Then maybe it is you whom Leah should tend to.”
Having learned long ago that his master was as stubborn as two oxen with full bellies, Ari chose to keep quiet.
Caleb glanced at Ari, his eyes filled with emotion. “If you choose to stay as my son, you are most welcome.”
His heart swelled at Caleb’s affection. “I am honored and blessed by your offer.”
He gazed toward Jerusalem. His deception made him unworthy of such an honor. Until he received word, he would not be free to make his own decisions. Although, he wouldn’t mind staying. Caleb’s family had become like his own. But it was not up to him. Resigned to continue his trust in the Lord, he nodded. “If the Lord wills it.”
“There are many who would think my daughter cursed because of her maimed fingers and scarred hand and thus wish not to marry her, not even for the price of my land, but you, my friend, you treat her with respect and kindness. You would care for her with or without my legacy.”
His heart clogged in his throat. He had only moments before entertained thoughts of a union with Mira, if only to keep her from a wicked marriage with Esha, the drunkard. However, with the words spoken aloud by her father, he knew it impossible. “I treat all the same, adon. As God would have it.”
Caleb’s breathing became labored as they crested the hill. “I understand. You must have family somewhere.”
Ari shrugged his shoulders. What was he to say? The truth would bring more questions. Caleb might be aged, but he was not addle minded.
“Abba.”
Mira. The sound of her soft lilt rolled along the cobbled stones and banded around his heart. Ari lifted his head and locked his gaze on her. She did not sound, nor look, as if she’d just been accosted by armed men with evil intentions. Instead, she sat on the edge of the well at the bottom of the hill, her posture elegant, graceful. Like the purest of waters cascading over the contours of lifeless rocks, she brightened the mundane and turned the barren landscape around her into a breathtaking oasis.
Had Caleb’s offer cemented her into his thoughts and turned him into a poet? Or was it his fear for her life, the need to protect her?
Respect and kindness was not enough to spend an eternity together, not when he wanted the love his parents shared. What Caleb and Leah had, too. Besides, even if he could be swayed to marry Mira, she did not like him much.
“Allow me to give you a piece of wisdom.” Caleb chuckled. “Nothing puts the fear of the Lord in a man more than seeing his daughter, whether it is seeing her for the first time upon her birth, or seeing her now, knowing her rebuke, though meant with every breath of her love, will flay my bare flesh like a whip.”
His master actually looked as if he had paled at the sight of his daughter. Ari felt pale himself, but it had nothing to do with fear of her tongue and everything to do with how she had begun to make him feel. She made the air seem freer, lighter. She brought out his protective instincts. At the same time, she drove him mad with confusion. And that alone was enough to reject his master’s offer, if one were to officially come. However, if Mira showed any amount of willingness...
“Save me, will you?”
Ari laughed. “Of course, adon.” But who was going to save him from being shackled with a contentious wife if he couldn’t remove the madness plaguing him where Mira was concerned.
Chapter Three
“You have eyes for the slave, now?” Rubiel asked. “He is not for you.”
Mira dipped her head to hide the blushing of her cheeks at her sister’s words. It had not been the first time she’d watched him over the years, though she had never before been caught. He was a fine man, as handsome as any. His bearing strong and proud, yet humble and diligent. He was unlike any man she had ever known, free or slave. His heart seemed good. Yet, he angered her often.
True, he saw past her imperfections. He never looked at her with disgust. Instead, he coddled her, suffocated her as if she were...helpless. Defenseless. Of course, today, she would have been at the mercy of the soldiers if Ari had not intervened. She was thankful, yet angry. Why?
“What authority have you to say such things, sister?”
Rubiel gripped Mira’s chin and looked her in the eyes. “He is a bond servant, Mira. You should seek to marry your equal.”
Mira bowed her head releasing her sister’s hold. She recalled the way the corded muscles in his shoulders and arms vibrated. The coldness in his eyes as if he could fell the soldiers with one look. Even armed with their swords they had backed away from Ari as if they, too, thought him deadly.
For a small moment she had glimpsed a different man. A dangerous man, one who was not from humble means. A man far above her status. In that moment he brought to mind the stories of King David’s mighty men. Men who single-handedly defeated great armies. “It does not mean he is any less of a man.”
“Oh, dear. Ari is very honorable, but he will soon leave us.”
The thought hitched in her throat. What would her father do without him? “Perhaps, he might stay.”
“What of his people? Have you thought of them? He might have a wife.”
Although she’d often wondered where Ari had come from she never once had imagined he might have a wife. True, he often left their villa with her father’s permission, but she never thought it was to visit family. Surely, if he’d had one she would have known.
“You need a local man. What of Esha? He seems to like you well enough. He works hard and is handsome.” Rubiel raised the jar full of water from the well.
“Esha works hard on drinking Abba’s wine.”
Rubiel laughed. “What does that matter? He’d be a good husband sleeping all the time as he does.”
“Bah, I would rather have no husband than one of Esha’s character, even if he is handsome enough as you say. I have enough chores to attend. I do not need to take care of a drunkard, as well.”
“Mira, you must truly consider Esha. My Nathan says he is the one man who does not mind that you are maimed. Besides, if Ari stays, he can help you take care of your husband.” Rubiel glanced at the man walking beside her father with appreciation. “He’s certainly strong enough to tend to your future husband. Ari does everything else for you.”
“Esha is not my betrothed, nor will he ever be.” Heat flooded her cheeks. “Besides, if Ari stays it’ll be for Abba and no other reason. He only helps me to repay a debt he believes he owes.”
“For saving his life?” Rubiel nodded toward Mira’s hand. “It is commendable of you, sister, for saving him from those dogs when he was left for dead, especially with your fear of the beasts. Does the slave know? Does he know why your fingers are scarred and twisted?”
Mira shook her head and curled her mangled fingers into the folds of her tunic. If only she had listened to her father when she was but a girl she never would have wandered off alone and been attacked by a wild dog. Then she could have married long ago. Married for love, not for the price of her father’s land, which she had no doubt was all Esha hoped to gain. She closed her eyes and gathered what courage she could find.
“Abba’s patience is at an end. I heard him speaking with Ima. If you do not find a husband soon, he’ll accept Esha’s suit.”
Esha might be handsome, but she didn’t miss the look of revulsion whenever he spied her. No doubt, he would be a cruel husband. Perhaps not abusive, but he would neglect her. Given the way he reacted whenever he glanced at her hand, there would be no union between them. No children. She was certain he only coveted her father’s land and his wine.
“If only there were more men as diligent as Ari. One who has not forsaken God. One who will see Abba’s land become even more prosperous.” One who made her heart flutter as Ari had done when he’d smoothed her hair behind her shoulder earlier. If only he felt something besides pity for her, maybe a little respect for her abilities to care for a household.
“Your slave will be free in a few days’ time. He’ll leave as they all do.”
“Ari will stay,” Mira predicted. “He has to. Abba depends on him too much.” If he didn’t, then she would follow him and convince him to return to her father’s house.
Mira hefted the yoke upon her shoulders. Rubiel attached the jars of water to their hooks, the weight boring into her neck. Before Mira headed toward her father, Rubiel dipped a cup into the earthen jar and placed it in her good hand draped over the yoke.
“Here, take this to Father. He is weakening.” Her sister kissed her cheek. “Mira, I hope for your sake you are right, but please, for me, beware your heart.”
Beware her heart? The man may have caused her pulse to beat a little faster, but she did not love him. He was good. Honest. Hardworking, and he cared for her father as a son should. “It is not for my heart, dear sister, but for Father’s that Ari must stay.”
She met her father and Ari as they reached the bottom of the hill. She gave Ari an apologetic look when he took the cup from her hand and pressed it to her father’s lips. Her father labored to control his breathing.
“You should not be here, Abba,” she chastised.
Ari handed the cup back to her and lifted the yoke from her neck.
“You would deny me your beauty, Sh’mira,” her father said, a twinkle in his eye.
“Father, do not think you can charm your way out of this. Does Ima know you have left your bed?” She wrapped her arm around her father’s frail shoulders and ushered him back toward home.
“It was your mother’s idea I get fresh air.”
“I do not think she meant for you to walk so far. Are you trying to meet your death?”
Ari raised a dark, winged brow. He must have gained confidence from their earlier encounter with the guards if he dared chastise her, even if it was a silent one. It had not escaped her notice over the years that this man’s size could probably command an entire army, especially since he easily managed her father. But now, she had no doubt there was much more to him than servanthood. Knew with certainty he could command respect from his enemies with one look.
“Would it be such a bad thing, daughter?”
“Abba,” she cried.
“Adon, you should not speak so carelessly.” Ari’s words were for her father, but his gaze bored into hers. He seemed to will her strength and understanding. “As much as we would all long to pass from this earth and into the great rest of our God, you would be greatly missed.”
“My apologies, Sh’mira. My bones are weary.”
“Soon. Soon, Abba, you will rest.” She patted his arm. Her father longed for an eternal rest, but a selfish desire to cling to him claimed her. Losing him would break her heart.
Her father halted his steps. The dust covering the pathway swirled over his sandaled feet. “First, I must tend to business in town.” He glanced at Ari. “I need the mind of Solomon and the strength of Samson. I need you to attend me, Ari.”
The corners of Ari’s mouth curved upward. “Of course, adon.”
Panic filled her chest, squeezing and tightening. The guards promised to return. Who would protect her? Certainly not Esha. And what if they accosted her father on the road? Would Ari’s lone strength be enough to see her father protected? “You cannot, Abba. Not until you are much improved.” Mira used her eyes to plead with Ari to not placate her father.
“The matter is of importance. It can wait no longer, daughter. Besides, Hebron is a day there, a day back. Not much at all, you will see,” her father replied.
“But...”
Ari’s brow furrowed.
“The queen’s—”
“She is right, adon. You cannot think to leave your family unprotected.”
She silently thanked Ari for not revealing the earlier events to her father. He’d only fret, weakening his health.
“I would send another, but I do not trust...” Her father began to wheeze and cough. She patted him on the back as Ari held on to his arm.
“We will discuss the matter more after you rest,” Ari said, shadows evident in his eyes. Grim lines etched his handsome face. It was as if the yoke he bore for her was not the only burden he carried. For the first time, with her sister’s words fresh in her mind, she wondered about his days before he arrived on her father’s land, lips parched and body battered. Dying.
Footsteps on the path interrupted her musings. Fear pounded in her blood. Had the soldiers returned? She lifted her eyes, shielding them against the sun with her free hand, and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Joash.
He ran toward them, his dark curls bouncing just above his shoulders. His tunic danced against his thighs, exposing his scarred knees. The scrapes the only evidence that this young boy, seven summers old, was but a child. Such a shame he did not laugh and play more. He was too serious, much like the man who diligently taught him God’s Law. Ari’s arrival had truly been a gift from God, not just to her father, but as a mentor to their people during a time when the leader of Judah had banned God from the land.
Joash stopped. And as if in command of all the world, he lifted his head and looked her father in the eye. “Abba, Leah has sent me to fetch you.”
“Is that so?”
“I would not lie,” Joash replied as if offended. Mira wanted to smile at the boy who had filled a special place in her heart, who had placated the emptiness of her womb all these years.
“Of course not, my son.” Her father extended his hand out for Joash to escort him home. “You should do as you are bid.”
“Yes, Abba.” Joash placed his small hand into her father’s frail palm. “Leah has made challah.”
“Has she now?”
Her stomach grumbled at the mention of her mother’s fresh-baked bread. Brushing her troublesome veil back over her shoulders, she fell into step beside Ari.
“That one is too serious,” she said.
“As he should be,” Ari replied.
She tilted her chin and considered the boy. Her cousin had arrived with the boy near six years before, only days after Ari had. She’d claimed the babe’s parents had been killed, left an orphan. Her father took him in and began raising him as his own. “How so? He’s only a child. He should run and play. He takes his studies too much to heart.”
Ari twisted his lips, which she found endearing, although what she really wanted to do was to run her fingers along the seam and smooth them into the heart-warming smile she had found appealing.
“If there were more men such as that child, there would be less horror in the land.”
It was the closest she’d ever heard him come to speaking about the terror ruling Judah. “You speak of our queen?”
He looked into her eyes as if searching her soul. “It does not matter of what I speak. But the boy...it is obvious God has destined great things for him.”
Mira laughed. “It is not likely Joash will rise one morning from tending sheep and become a king like David.”
It was barely perceptible. If she hadn’t made it her duty to memorize Ari’s every nuance and bearing over the years—not because she fancied herself in love with him but rather so she could find his weaknesses, make him feel helpless as he did her—she never would have known. But she saw. It was almost unbelievable. He stumbled. This sure, strong man tripped over his feet and stumbled.
“Be careful, Mira.” Her name, a mere whisper, rolled over his tongue and curled into her heart. Her breath caught in her throat for he had never before addressed her by her name. “Our Lord may decide to prove you wrong.”
Chapter Four
“I do not like your leaving, Ari.”
He finished rinsing the plaster from the pottery bowl and rose to greet the woman who had risked her life to carry Joash away from Athaliah’s clutches. “I do not like it either, Tama. There is naught to be done, unless you wish to tell your uncle the truth about the boy. Would you place your people in more danger than they already are? Would you risk sacrificing Judah’s future king?”
“You know I would not.” Tama wrapped her arms around her waist. Fine lines crinkled at the corners of her eyes. Her youth had long since vanished. “With the soldiers prowling...” Dropping her hands to her sides, she bowed her head in defeat.
Ari lifted her chin with the tip of his finger. There was no doubt the burden of their secret weighed heavy on her shoulders, as it did his. The soldiers’ presence seemed to be weakening her resolve to see their mission through. He stared into her eyes and willed her strength, courage. “Tama, if not for you and Jehosheba, the boy would have perished along with all the others. You’ve been a dauntless protector, and I believe you will continue to do so in my absence.”
“I am not sure I can.”
“You have no choice.” His voice sounded harsh even to his own ears. Given the widening of her eyes, she heard it, too. He meant to encourage not dishearten her. He scrubbed his palm over his face and released a frustrated sigh. “My apologies, Tama. I did not intend to speak harshly. I will only be gone two days. Three at the most. Be vigilant, as I know you are. If trouble should arise, you know what to do. All will be well, Tama. You will see. We must place our hope in our God.”
Tama nodded. She stiffened and seemed to stand taller. “You are correct, Ari. Our Lord has not hidden us here for all these years only to deliver us into the hands of our enemies.” She glanced up to the darkening sky. “I cannot say I look forward to our return to Jerusalem when the time comes, but I’ll be happy when Jehoiada sends for us.”
Ari understood. The elders had continually praised him for his gift of perseverance, and even though he considered his current duty an honor, he longed for the day when he didn’t have to be on guard and ever watchful, the day when the child would become another’s responsibility.
Henna lightly danced in the air, and an awareness of her presence pricked his nape. “Hello, Mira.”
“Mira,” Tama greeted her cousin with a kiss to each cheek. “I was admiring the work Ari has done to your home. Not much longer and it will be complete.”
Mira’s cheeks reddened, and she dipped her chin, looking to her feet. “That is what I’m told.”
His heart saddened at her lack of enthusiasm. Did she not want a home of her own? Did she not want to marry? Given her suitor, he did not blame her.
“I do not mean to interrupt.” She glanced at him through hooded eyes. “Abba seeks word with you, Ari.”
“Shalom, Ari.” Tama bowed.
“Shalom, Tama.” She skirted around the corner of what was to be Mira’s home.
“I pray our hope is not in vain,” he said beneath his breath. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted speaking them. His lack of faith soured his stomach.
“Not in vain?”
He shook his muddled thoughts. “Pardon?”
“You pray our hope is not in vain for what?” Mira waited for an answer.
He half growled and half laughed at his lack of secrecy. “Given, you do not seem pleased with your home—”
“Oh, it is not that,” she said, ducking beneath the doorposts. Her fingers glided along the scrolling. Her eyes filled with delight. She glanced at him. “It is beautiful, Ari. The time you’ve taken to build—the artistry—I am very pleased.” She twisted her lips. “It is Esha I am displeased with. I had hoped he would find another bride, but I fear my father’s land is too much a prize.”
He smiled. “In that, I fear you are correct. Have you taken your concerns to God?”
She tilted her head in consideration. “I—I have not thought—that is, no, I have not.”
“One thing I know.” He paused, glancing through the window he had shaped with the stones so the evening twilight could shine. “God delights in our conversation with Him. He asks we seek His face, even in small matters.”
She dipped her chin, kicking the toe of her sandal into the ground. “Even our fears?”
He drew in a shuddering breath. “Even our fears. Did not King David write, ‘Bow down thine ear to me; deliver me speedily: be thou my strong rock, for an house of defence to save me’?”
The corners of her mouth turned upward. “‘For thou art my rock and my fortress; therefore for thy name’s sake lead me, and guide me.’”
“Mira, you must seek God in times of trouble, and trust He’ll be your rock and fortress.”
Dropping her hands to her sides, her smile disappeared. “I fear the guards will return while you’re gone.”
He longed to reach out and hold her hand, to reassure her all would be well. He took a step from her. “I do not like leaving, either. Even if I were to stay, I am only one man. A servant. I would not be able to defend your father’s village against the queen’s men.”
She shook her head, the bronze silk veil ornamented with tiny beads covering her hair danced at her shoulders. “But I saw you. I saw them tremble before you—”
“Enough. Every day since I have been in your father’s house you have scorned my help and now you seek what I cannot give.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I am only a man, unworthy of your faith. Forgive—”
Mira held up her hand and pushed past him, but not before he witnessed a tear sliding down her cheek.
“Wait.” He followed behind her. “If we tell your father...”
She swiped at her eyes before facing him. “No. I refuse to be the cause of his health failing any further. He’d only worry. You go, as you must. As I said before, I’m neither defenseless nor helpless.”
He watched the gentle sway of her hips as she walked away and wondered what had just happened. Her behavior left him confused. Her lack of courage and diminishing pride proved the incident with the soldiers had pierced her sheltered innocence.
* * *
Clenching her fists, she paced. Why could the man not see reason? Why could he not convince her father to stay? Her father always listened to him. Always. And now that she wanted, no, needed his help, he refused.
“Daughter, why do you fret so?” Her mother entered the courtyard. A basket of linens propped on her hip.
Mira plopped down onto the wooden bench. She could not tell her mother about the soldiers, she’d only tell her father, but was that what really bothered her, or was it something else? She puffed out a breath of air and crossed her arms. “Rubiel told me Abba is going to accept Esha’s suit.”
“Ahhh.” Her mother sat beside her, the basket at her feet. “You know your father is ailing. He only wants to see you settled before he weakens.”
“I know, Ima, but why can’t I find one like Abba?”
Laughing, her mother wrapped her arm around her shoulders. “Things were not always easy between me and your father. I dreamed of living in the palace and attending the king’s daughters. I did not wish to marry.”
“What happened?”
“King Jehoshaphat sent my father to Hebron to teach God’s laws. My father continued to visit over the years. When I came of age to marry, he betrothed me to a man I had never met. A year later we were married.
“The first time I set eyes on your father was when he came to claim me as his bride.”
Mira laid her hand on her mother’s thigh. “I always thought you loved Abba.”
“Oh, I do, child, but not at first. At first I was angry. He was gentle and kind.” Her mother smiled as if remembering. “Patient. I was prideful, childish. Scared.”
“It remains, Ima. I do not wish to marry Esha. I do not wish to speak ill of him either, but even Ari, as angry as he makes me, would be better than a drunkard.”
Rising from her seat, her mother laughed again. “In this, child, I am in agreement. Ari is better suited to your spirit and he is handsome, too, yes?”
Heat flooded Mira’s cheeks. “Ima!”
Her mother winked. “He reminds me of your father when he was younger. You could do worse.”
Mira sighed. “He’s my father’s servant.”
“He will soon be free.”
Free to leave. “He’ll be free to be the man he once was, Ima.”
“Just remember, a contract does not create moral character. Ari is a faithful servant. He has a servant’s heart and that cannot be a disguise.”
Could it not? Had she not seen glimpses of a different man? One who was not so humble and subservient?
Chapter Five
“Ariel, it is with joy I am to see you.” Caleb lay on his mat with his head propped on a bedroll. A wet cloth rested against his brow. Red patches blotted his cheeks and down his neck.
“I see our walk caused you difficulties, adon.”
“Bah, I am old, nothing more.” He rose onto his elbows. The cloth slid to the ground. Ari rushed forward. He picked up the soiled linen and tossed it into a basket outside the doorposts. “My thanks. Now, come, sit beside me. We have matters to discuss.”
Ari slid his fingers through is hair before taking a seat beside Caleb. “If this is about Hebron, I do not think your health will sustain the trip.”
A spastic cough erupted from Caleb.
Ari patted him on the back, before offering him a drink of water. “Perhaps, you should lie back down.”
Caleb shook his head. “No. What I have to say is important. Each day the Lord gives me is a blessing, but I would see matters settled before I die.”
His master pulled a rolled parchment from the side of his mat and handed it to him. Ari did not know whose hands shook more, his or Caleb’s.
The twine fell to the ground as Ari loosened the knot. Caleb’s hand rested on his forearm before Ari could unroll the letter. “Wait. Hear my heart.”
An erratic thump beat against the wall of his chest. If he had not already been sitting, he would have collapsed. Whatever Caleb had to tell him would not be easy to accept. Worse, by the knot in his gut, it would be more difficult to reject.
“I have no brothers. Leah a brother who is bound by other duties. I have no sons other than Nathan who will soon take Rubiel as his wife, and although well suited for her, even if he could leave his father’s house, I do not trust him to have Mira’s best interest.” He sucked in a breath.
Ari rested his elbows on his knees, his fingers tented, the parchment resting between his hands. “Caleb—”
“Do not deny me this request, Ariel. It has not gone beyond my notice how you care for my daughter. You are kind and generous with your patience where she is concerned. I know all too well my child can be strong minded.”
Caleb’s view of his daughter must have been colored with a father’s love. She was stubborn and prideful.
“She’s much like her mother was when we first married in that regard. You have not allowed her to scare you. You are not wary of her disfigurement.”
A thick lump formed in his throat. “Caleb, I must—”
“I realize what I’m about to ask is unusual. My circumstances are unusual. Take time to consider my offer before you deny me.” Caleb began to cough, but it subsided before it began. “There is a betrothal contract.” He held up his hand. “I do not expect to bind you if that is not your heart. I only wish for her to be watched after. I know you would do so and I’ve given you the legal means. If you find you cannot marry her...I ask you see that she marries a man of her choosing, one who would care for her. I would not see her married to Esha.”
Neither would he, but it was not his duty. He glanced at the parchment nestled in his hands.
“There’s a marriage contract, as well. If you are in agreement, all you need do is sign your name. There is no need for a bride price.”
Ari rose from his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “You must understand, adon, I am not free—”
“I concede you may have family, but if that is true why have you not contacted them?”
He had, if only to tell them he was safe. That the child was safe. Before he could respond Caleb continued.
“I have released you, Ariel.” Caleb struggled to rise from his mat. He shuffled toward Ari and laid his hand on his arm. “You are free. Free to leave, free to stay. I only ask you seek God’s face before you answer.”
Caleb’s words cut him at the knees and cut him hard. He was unworthy of the man’s trust. Unworthy of his daughter. A light tap on the doorjamb kept Ari’s lips pressed firm.
“Abba.” Mira pushed aside the covering and entered. Her presence a double-edged sword. “Food is ready.”
If he were free, he would not hesitate to sign the contracts if she were agreeable. The truth, however, was more like iron shackles than being a bond servant to Caleb had ever been. He wasn’t free. Wasn’t free to leave. He wasn’t free to stay if he chose. He was not free to marry the woman standing before him. He was bound to a child for the good of Judah, bound to God’s will.
* * *
His gaze pressed against her, palpable, boring right through to the center of her being. She did not even have to look. He’d been watching her from the moment he’d left her father’s chamber. This time it gave her pause. Had she juices from the roasted meat dripping down her chin?
She swiped at her mouth with the back of her good hand and then as covertly as possible looked for the telltale signs of grease.
The courtyard filled heavily with the scent of roasted meat. The fire snapped and crackled as Rubiel turned the hunk of lamb over the fire. Why did he stare so broodingly?
“You have decided not to go, Abba?” Joash asked from his seat next to Ari.
The juice Mira poured into her father’s goblet overflowed onto the table.
“Mira, pay attention, child,” her mother said, tossing her a drying cloth.
“Forgive me, Ima.” The deep red liquid seeped through the linen, spreading in all directions. Images of bloodied bandages as she’d fought to keep Ari alive sprouted into her mind. She’d fancied herself in love with him then, before he woke and declared her maimed. Before he had treated her as if she could not spread grain onto the fields, tend the sheep or pick the harvest. Of course, he had been plagued with madness induced from the pain of his wounds and the herbs she and her mother had treated him with. He had spoken of many things that did not make sense as he tried to push himself up from the mat. The only word she truly understood was maimed.
Her anger at his brash observation had led to resentment, but today something had changed. Today, she had needed his help, whether she liked it or not. Today, her heart filled with gratitude at his presence.
All day she had fretted over his departure. Feared he’d leave her to fend off the queen’s men when they returned. Had he convinced her father to cancel his plans? Had he told him about the incident? Is that why Ari continued to watch her?
She peeked at him through the drape of her hair in hopes he would not catch her. However, his black eyes caught hers. Startled at the knots forming in her stomach, she gathered up the soiled linen and rose.
“My thanks, Mira.” Father lifted his cup to his lips and sipped before answering. “I have decided to stay. Your mother made me realize I did not need to go after all.” His gaze slid toward Ari. “It is my hope that my business is complete.”
“What business, Father?” She’d bit her tongue too late. The words were out. Ari’s eyes grew wide, his skin paled. After his time with her family he should be used to her inability to control the wayward organ. Her question was not cause for the panic creased on Ari’s brow. Unless of course the business had something to do with her. Perhaps the earlier incident. She ground her teeth together. Her father needed no other burdens upon his shoulders.
As if reading her mind, Ari shook his head. A silent message loud and clear. He had not betrayed her wishes. Then why would her father’s business, which obviously had something to do with her, unnerve Ari?
Chapter Six
“I speak of your marriage.”
Mira’s bottom jaw dropped. She snapped it closed and then opened it again. A firestorm swirled in her amber liquid eyes. This brash young woman struggled to form words. A first. It did not take long for her to find the iron in her spine.
Like a child, she crossed her arms and stomped her dainty sandaled foot. “I mean no disrespect, Abba. I beg of you, do not make me marry Esha.”
Caleb gaped at his daughter as if she’d grown a serpent’s head. “This is a family matter, Mira. We will discuss it later.”
She scanned the courtyard. Servants, slaves and family members stared at her. Her shoulders hunched. She swiped her hand over her cheeks, first one, then the other. It was strange how her defeated tears were somehow tied to his emotions.
“Please, Abba!”
Caleb shook his head a moment before she ran from the courtyard. The muscles in Ari’s legs urged him to run after her, if only to explain the situation. However, the knot in his belly told him she would not think him much of an improvement over the drunkard.
Dark, foreboding clouds should have cut a path over the table. It would have suited his mood. Thoughts crashed around in his head. Something else altogether squeezed tight in his chest at Mira’s distress. He’d made a vow to protect Joash, keep him safe until the appointed time when he would claim the throne of Judah. He’d also made a vow to serve Caleb, a vow from which he was now released, with the hope on Caleb’s part, that he’d marry his daughter. A marriage that could never occur.
Ari scrubbed his palm over his jaw. The entire situation reeked of fermentation. It left a bitter taste on his tongue and a bag of shekels in his belly. If he were another man...if it were another time...he would honor Caleb’s request.
“If it pleases you, adon, I would seek the Lord.”
The corners of Caleb’s mouth lifted. “Of course, Ariel.”
He left the courtyard and entered his shared quarters. Four stone walls. Lonely and cold, even in the heat, without all the servants’ mats cluttering the floor. Isolation closed in until he could no longer breathe.
A roar thundered in his ears. His heart beat out a tattoo, a tattoo that threatened to increase until he’d collapse from the erratic rhythm. He did not want to be consumed by the loneliness, eaten by the icy hardness forming in his chest. The only way to counter the coldness was to enter into the presence of God. However, the reality piercing his chest told him God may have forgotten him.
He grabbed a rolled mat and climbed the stairs to the flat portion of the roof. He peered across the horizon as the sun began to disappear, leaving indescribable hues stretching from north to south. Here the roaring in his head lessened, here he could almost breathe.
Until the hour reminded him, with a desperate longing, of all the rituals he had performed at the temple. In this place, there was no lighting of ceremonial lamps, no song echoing off the temple walls, no offerings to the Lord, no training his men in the courtyard, only the words of the prophets stamped in his mind, words he often shared after the evening meal.
He raked his fingers through his hair. There would be no words this evening. Not from him.
Releasing the cord from around his bedding, he flung it out before him. The soft fleece called to his knees as he prepared for his prayers. A flicker of light caught his attention. The distant glow faded and breathed to life in rapid succession before slowing and repeating.
He moved closer to the edge of the roof and scanned the horizon for another signal. A small, faint glow, no more than the twinkle of a barely visible star, responded. He crossed his arms over his chest. Athaliah’s soldiers remained close, but not close enough for him to ascertain the messages passed between camps.
The muscles running down his neck and across his shoulders tensed. At least Caleb had chosen to stay, which eased the burden somewhat. If his master had decided to leave for Hebron, as a servant, Ari could not defy him. Even as a free man, would Ari have done so? He owed Caleb much, yet his duty was to protect the child. A duty he could not perform while he was miles away.
“Perhaps the soldiers are, in truth, only here to keep the peace.” The closing in his throat told him otherwise. Devastation always followed in their wake.
There was no doubt the men would come back for Mira. If he signed the contracts hidden in his bedding, he’d be bound to protect her. How was he to protect her and the child at the same time?
An ache sparked in his chest over the dilemma. He was caught between donkey’s teeth. Tama would guard Joash well if needed. They’d formed a plan years ago, and she knew it well. She’d also proven herself once before. There was no question that Tama would not fail her duty to the child. But would he fail to protect Mira if the soldiers came back for her?
“Ay!” The contracts were not even signed. It was impossible for him to write his name on the parchment and yet he already considered her his responsibility, especially when he thought of the queen’s defiled men touching her.
A rumble vibrated in his chest, and he clenched his fingers into fists until pain sliced across his knuckles. He released the pressure of his nails from the palms of his hands and rolled his shoulders. She was not his to protect. One scrawl of ink and she would be his, but he could not, would not take her as his wife without love, even to save her from an awful marriage to Esha.
He looked toward Jerusalem and knelt on his mat. He gazed across the twilit sky. Shades of blues and grays disappeared into the inky blackness of night, revealing the twinkling of stars placed in the heavens by the hand of God. His chest tightened, expanded, choking off the air in his lungs. Never had he felt so divided. More than anything, he longed to do the will of the Lord. What His will was, Ari no longer knew. And if the Lord did not show him soon, what was Ari to do?
Stay? To be in the continuous presence of Mira without marriage. Watch a man unworthy of Mira’s affections, even in her scorn, take her as a helpmate? The thought soured his stomach.
Ari scrubbed his hand down his face. As much as it pained him to never see her again, he knew where his duty lay and it was not to the woman who had captured his protective instincts.
A soft breeze rustled his garments, bringing with it the sweet smell of the henna blossoms hedged around the vineyards. He saw Mira, pure and innocent, in his mind’s eye, leaning over one of the small flowers inhaling the scent just as she had earlier in the day. His life’s blood quickened with the need to touch her fingertips. To press his lips to her brow. If only for a second.
Ari gripped the neck of his tunic in anguish and threatened to rend the garment in two. Even when Jehoiada sent word of his imminent freedom, Ari knew he could never return to the temple and the duties he’d held before Athaliah’s murderous rampage. Life as he had known it had ceased to exist when he had left the gates of Jerusalem. And as hard as it had been to abandon his beloved city with all haste in her time of trouble, it would be even more difficult to leave this village and the friends he’d made.
Blowing out a breath of air, Ari released the fabric and prayed for peace to settle his anxious heart. Although he had not forgotten even one day to meditate on the Lord’s law, at times he doubted whether God had remembered him. Had the Lord abandoned him altogether? Had the Lord forgotten Joash? Had the Lord forgotten His covenant with King David?
“Do you remember your promise to David, Lord? ‘Your house and your kingship shall ever be secure before you, your throne shall be established for evermore.’” He shook his fist at the heavens before bowing his head in remorse.
Questioning God’s faithfulness did not sit well in his soul. He knew once the questioning began, it would soon fester and eat away at his heart. Ari fought the urge to bury his face into his hands. Instead, he stared into the great void and waited for some sort of reprimand from God Himself.
The quiet was only interrupted by the bleating of a goat. Still, he waited, for God’s peace to cloak him. Just as he was about to give up and seek his sleep, a star streaked across his vision and faded into the dark night. He recalled a psalm memorized from childhood.
The Lord doth build up Jerusalem: He gathereth together the outcasts of Israel. He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds. He telleth the number of the stars; He calleth them all by their names. Great is our Lord, and of great power: His understanding is infinite. The Lord lifteth up the meek: He casteth the wicked down to the ground.
If the Most High, in all of His greatness, cared to name even the stars and knew their number, would He not remember Ari?
“Forgive me. The unknown is like torment.” He paused. “If You hear me, O Lord—” his voice a mere whisper to his own ears “—grant me Thy guidance. Thy wisdom. Courage. I am Your servant, Most High, humbled before You.” Whether bound to another man’s house or in freedom. He inhaled the warm, henna-scented night air. An ache throbbed in his chest at the fragrance so much a part of Mira. Could he love her? Could she love him? Of course, it did not matter if God did not will it. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head. “I will go where You lead.”
Had God heard his prayer? Ari could only hope. For there was a promise in that psalm, one Ari would hold on to until Jerusalem was restored from Athaliah’s devastation.
Lying down, Ari laced his fingers to better cushion his head. Seeking to remove Mira from his thoughts, he tried to recall the faces of his brothers, and that of his sister, who had surely grown and married. He recalled the etchings in the stonework of the temple walls, many of which he’d tried to recreate in the bricks he had laid for Mira’s bridal house. Ari smiled and shook his head. No matter where his thoughts began, they always seemed to lead him back to her. Thoughts that had occupied his mind ever since his master had suggested a marriage with his beautiful daughter.
The light thrum of strings began to filter into the night. Mira often played the lyre for her father to soothe his ailing health, which always amazed Ari given the condition of her disjointed fingers. He’d never asked what had caused the scarring and curling of her fingers, but he’d heard the servants speak of an accident when she was a child, one where a wild dog had attacked her. If their stories were true, that made her rescue of him all the more courageous.
Tonight it was as if she played for him and him alone. The chords, a soft, yet whimsical tune clashed through his conscience. It spoke to the warring emotions within his soul. When he went home, would he long for this isolated place? Would he long for a glimpse of the beautiful Mira? Would he long for her scorn and her outspoken ways?
Perhaps.
* * *
Mira uncurled her legs and rose from the woven rug. She leaned her lyre against the stone wall and tiptoed from her father’s chamber. His snoring assured her he slept soundly. Entering the courtyard, she massaged the gnarled joints of her fingers on her maimed hand and recalled the incident that had altered her life. She’d been naught but a young girl with the thought to protect her father’s sheep from the wild dogs. She’d never forget the vicious attack. The way the dog clamped down on her hand, jerking, twisting all the while clawing at her flesh. How could she, the scars she bore had kept her from an appealing marriage.
“You play with sorrow, my daughter.” Her mother sat in the center of the courtyard in front of the hand mill. Several oil lamps illuminated the lines of age around her eyes.
Mira dropped her hands to her sides, hoping she had not been caught massaging her fingers. “Do you ever wonder, Ima, if God truly hears us?” she asked, sitting across from her mother. Mira scooped a handful of wheat from the pottery bowl and dropped it into the center of the mill. She gripped the wooden pin extending upward from the round stone just above her mother’s hand.
“Of course He does,” she replied tilting her head to the side. The little coins, depicting her mother’s status as wife, adorned the headdress she wore and jingled with the slight movement. Mira had done away with her own simple veil once the servants had sought their beds, and so her hair hung freely down her back. A light breeze brushed across her cheeks, lifting her hair off her neck. She liked to imagine the wind was the Lord’s way of approving her slight rebellion.
“What if we do not know our own hearts?” Using the wooden pin to turn the stone, together, they ground the grain to a fine flour.
“What is it you ask, child?”
“I desire something, here,” she said, tapping her heart with her free hand. “What if my desires are selfish? What if they go against God’s will? What if He hears my prayers and it causes another’s prayers to go unanswered?”
Her mother halted the grinding. She brushed her fingers along Mira’s jaw as she smoothed back a lock of hair. “My child, you must trust God and His infinite wisdom. Prayers never go unanswered, but if they are not answered the way we think they should be, it is because God has something better for you.”
Mira considered the wisdom of her mother’s words. She knew she was right, but at times it was difficult to trust. For years she despised Ari for making her feel weak. But today he made her feel protected, cherished. Not an object to be pitied. She’d found herself daydreaming at the well, daydreaming of a union between her an Ari. The more she considered the idea, the more she longed for a marriage with him. But it was more than just wanting Ari for her husband, and that is what she did not understand. Why would God open her eyes to a glimpse of who Ari was only for her father to demand she marry Esha?
“You should rest, Mira. It is late.” Her mother curled her hand around her fingers. The warmth and tenderness of her touch brought momentary relief to her aching joints.
“I should—”
“Rubiel will be here soon to help. Now go on.”
“Yes, Ima.” Leaning across the mill, Mira pressed her lips to her mother’s sun-kissed cheek. She rose and started for her chamber.
“And, Mira,” her mother called.
“Yes, Ima?” Hope bubbled in her chest. Would her mother tell her she didn’t have to marry at all?
“Not all is ever as it seems. That is why you must trust God. If God wills it, then it will be so. Have faith.”
“Sleep well, Ima.” Mira slipped off her sandals outside her door and entered the women’s sleeping chamber with a heavy heart. The urge to fall prostrate overwhelmed her, an urge driven not only by her thoughts of Ari but from some sudden weight of fear that her life was about to change. Soon her father would pass from this life, and it seemed, soon she’d be the wife of a man who could not stand the sight of her.
She unfastened the girdle holding close her outer tunic. She slipped the heavier linen from her shoulders and folded the fabric before laying it on a small wooden stool. Careful not to disturb her cousin Tama, the servants and the young children, she stepped over their sleeping bodies and crawled onto her mat and beneath her blanket. Sleep would elude her, or at least until she worried her mind to exhaustion. “God, bring peace to my heart. Help me to trust in You and Your ways.” She knew she could not control the future, but this feeling of foreboding would not release the hold it had on her.
“And, God, protect my family from the queen’s men if they choose to return.” An image of Ari standing against the guards pressed into her mind. “Give Ari the strength to keep us safe.”
Once she spoke her request, the burden on her heart lightened and she breathed a sigh of relief. No matter what occurred on the morrow, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob would be with them.
“And, God,” she whispered into the night. “If I’ve found favor in Your eyes, please keep me from a distasteful marriage.”
Chapter Seven
“I do not remember my fields being so vast.”
“Do you wish to rest awhile?” Ari tugged on the donkey’s lead to slow him down.
“Are you tired, Ari? Do you wish to rest your feet again?” Caleb grinned down at him as if he knew the real reason Ari had earlier claimed aching feet. Ari’s feet were used to long walks, but Caleb, even riding a donkey, was not used to long minutes outside of his chamber.
Even though Caleb’s mind was that of a young man, his body was far from it. The ashen hue of his master’s cheeks proved as much. Ari should have insisted he stay abed, but Caleb had been adamant about seeing his crops. After all, Caleb argued, he may never get another chance to see a harvest.
“We are close to the end, adon,” Ari encouraged. “Then we can rest before heading back home.” Even though they had been gone less than an hour, he knew his master needed the rest. However, Ari could not halt the gnawing in his belly that had existed ever since they had left the walls of the village. A sickening sensation, which grew worse with each passing moment.
“Then we press on, my son.”
Ari rolled his shoulders to wear off the uneasiness tensing his muscles and tugged on the donkey’s lead. They descended a pass and encountered a few servants tending the crops. The servants watched them, curious as to why their master had traveled so far from his bed. Ari bowed his head and focused on the path. He, too, wondered why Caleb chose this day to see his legacy. Certainly it was more than a dying man’s wish to see his fields once more.
“Shalom.” Caleb’s toothless smile greeted his servants.
Each bowed their heads in return.
A sense of foreboding returned with a vengeance as they passed the small group. His nape pricked as if he crawled around in a bush of thorns. Someone watched him. Temptation to investigate further tugged on his innards. But he did not wish to alert whomever it was observing them.
Ari chastised himself for his foolishness. Surely, the heat boring between his shoulders was only his imagination. Caleb was a kind master, his servants loyal. None would dare harm him, would they?
“It is guilty, I am for not allowing the fields the rest required by the law,” Caleb said, gripping the donkey’s short mane for support. “I do not think it would have gone unnoticed by the queen’s spies.” He lowered his voice. “I fear I will not see Judah restored...”
The sadness in Caleb’s voice choked Ari.
Caleb wiped his brow. “I am glad we did not travel to Hebron. It would have taken us a week there and back at this pace.” He coughed. “I fear it is not the same.”
The city, once a center of worship, bore the scars of Athaliah’s hand. An Asherah pole had even been erected at Abraham’s tomb. The queen’s faithful often defiled the holy place with sins comparable to Sodom and Gomorrah. “Jerusalem is no different,” Ari mused aloud.
“Ah, is that where you are from?” Caleb tilted his white peppery beard and peered down at him. Curiosity was not the only thing that shone in his black eyes. It was as if he asked Ari to have faith in him. To trust him. But Ari’s secrets were not his alone to keep. However, admitting he hailed from Jerusalem would harm nobody. At least he hoped not.
“You could say. Yet I’ve been bedding down in the desert for a few years, now.” Ari smiled at his master.
“Yes, so it seems you have.” Caleb laughed. His laughter quickly changed to a bout of coughing, and Ari worried if his master would return home to his family, or if he would perish here and now. Ari pulled the stopper from the bladder of water and touched the edge against Caleb’s lips.
“Better?” Ari asked once Caleb’s chest settled.
“Thank you, my son.” Caleb laid his hand against Ari’s shoulder. The unspoken meaning went straight to his heart. It was like a searing brand sizzling deep into his being. How could he disappoint this man? Even if his presence here was a lie, he had come to love Caleb and his family. But his duty to God, his duty to his kingdom and his secrets, kept him from staying. Kept him from accepting Mira as his bride.
Ari bowed his head. “I am unworthy, adon.”
Caleb slid off the donkey’s back before Ari could help him. He pressed his hands on either side of Ari’s face and looked him in the eye for long moments and then nodded as if pleased with what he saw. “I’ve never seen a more worthy man than you, Ari.”
The searing in his chest returned, thrusting deeper, encompassing the whole of his breast. Caleb’s words were like a hammer upon his conscience. Like an earthen jar crushed beneath the weight of a boulder. It was more than he could bear. Lord, give me strength.
“I will not press,” Caleb said. “Come, sit beneath the shade with me awhile.”
Ari looped the donkey’s lead around a low branch and eased beside Caleb. High clouds shadowed parts of the rocky outcrops while the sun illuminated others, leaving them more mysterious to the eye. He had no doubt the shadows held many secrets, much like his heart.
“We are far from prying ears, Ariel.” He turned his gaze fully on him, piercing Ari to the core.
Ari held his breath. He was not ready—
“I could not be more certain.” Hands clenched, Caleb paused. “I am certain...
“Certain about what, adon?”
* * *
Hefting a cruse containing oil from last year’s crop of olives, Mira carried it toward the bake oven where she intended to brush a small amount to each cake of bread.
“Why so downcast, Mira?” Rubiel asked as she placed an earthen jar on the ground in front of her.
Mira pressed her lips together. Ari and her father had not been gone long and she missed them. Missed him. Feared his absence if the soldiers should return.
“It is difficult, I know but you must do your duty to Abba and marry Esha.” Rubiel leaned close. “I saw the way you watched the slave last eve. I contend he’s handsome but he is a slave, Mira. You must remove your heart from him.”
The cruse slipped from Mira’s hand, shattering on the ground. She thrust her hands on her hips and glared at her sister as oil oozed over her feet. It would do no good to argue the condition of her heart or where it lay. She had watched him with new eyes, and her heart was curious. Perhaps, even interested a little if the increased beat in his presence was any indication. “He is not a slave.”
“Servant, slave, they are one in the same.”
“And soon he will be a free man. What say you then?” Kneeling, Mira began gathering the shards of pottery. A few small pieces clung to her flesh leaving her blood to intermingle with the thickness of the oil.
“I say he no longer belongs to us. He will most likely sell himself to a higher bidder. I hear there are women among Athaliah’s court who would pay a high price for a man as handsome as your slave.”
Her sister’s mean words pierced her heart. It seemed the more she ignored Esha’s marriage pursuit the meaner her sister became. Mira did not like Esha and would not marry him unless she was forced by her father. He was a deceiver and a drunkard, unlike Ari. “Ari’s not a slave, mine or anyone else’s,” Mira argued, knowing it would not matter.
“Daughters!” Her mother clapped her hands together. “There is no need for argument.” Her mother pierced Rubiel with her sternest look. “Child, you must learn to speak with caution. Your tongue is like a viper.”
“Ima!”
Mother held up her hand. “No, Rubiel, I blame myself for spoiling you as I have done. Now, where is your betrothed?”
He was probably hiding near a camphire hedge with Esha. The two, no doubt, were drunk on wine, after all, one of the pitchers was missing, but she wouldn’t speak as harshly as her sister had done. It never did well to give an eye for an eye, although treating her sister with kindness had not gotten her anywhere, either. Besides, Ima’s question was enough to set Rubiel in a huff. It’d take her a few hours to find her betrothed. When she did, she’d suffer angry embarrassment and would hide until her temper cooled.
“Thank you, Ima.” Mira glanced up at her mother.
Her mother pressed her fingers to her temple as if to ward off a head pain. “A blessing it was only a small jar and not a larger one.”
“Forgive me, Ima.”
“You worry over much, Mira. Of course, I forgive you.” Her mother gave her a quick hug, careful not to step in the oil. “Now, go wash your feet. I’ll have someone clean this up.”
“Yes, Ima.”
Mira walked to the cistern. By the time she had reached the well, her feet and sandals were covered in a sticky, dusty mess. Much of the desert clung to her toes. She sat on the rock wall, slipped her sandals off and placed them in a trough of water to soak. She plunged her feet into the tepid water next to her sandals and began to scrub them with the linen cloth tucked in her girdle.
Mira tried to calm her anger. She should not find fault with her sister’s concern, no matter how misplaced it was. Perhaps Rubiel believed Ari would treat her harshly because of her disfigurement as others had done. Could her sister not see Ari had never done so? He was different?
It angered her that Rubiel thought so little of him. Especially when he was obviously a man of integrity who lived by God’s law. He did everything her father had asked of him and more. He held God in the highest reverence, as all men should.
She gasped. All the time he’d offered his help, he had only been doing as God required him and she had treated him with scorn.
“Forgive me, God.” She bowed her head in shame.
She had treated him abhorrently. Lashing out with her tongue because she lacked confidence in who she was in the Lord.
How could she have treated such a handsome man with raven-black hair the color of the darkest night, with a silver shine as if the moon had kissed each strand so awfully? A man with a kind and generous heart?
Her pulse quickened even as the space in her chest closed as if to keep an image of Ari tucked within. It had stung when Rubiel suggested Ari would be willing to sell himself to one of Athaliah’s court for lustful purposes. She knew he would never do such a thing, still...he had had a life before her father took him in. And there was a possibility that he would return to his former life. Perhaps even to a wife.
The sound of feet pounded on the path with an urgency that alerted her senses. She pulled her sandals from the water and with haste wiped them clean, before tying them around her ankles. She rose and found Joash in a frantic run.
“M-M-Mira,” he said in between harsh breaths.
“What is it? What has happened? Is it Ima? Abba?” The shrill screams of women carried to her ears. The rumble of men’s shouts echoed them. All the air left her lungs.
The soldiers had come back. She started running toward her village.
“No!” The fear in Joash’s voice stopped her in her tracks. “Come. We must hide. Quickly. I must see you to safety.”
Mira was torn between helping her family and hiding like a coward with the boy. Something deep in her belly forced her to grab Joash’s hand. He led her along places she had never realized existed. They ran in the heat of the morning through thick brush and over sharp jagged rocks until they came to the edge of a pool so breathtakingly beautiful she nearly forgot they had been running for their lives. Until she heard the thunder of hooves approaching.
“My, Lord, save us,” she cried, yesterday’s fear revisited her double-fold.
“Come.” Joash jumped into the pond and swam toward a wall of falling water. Panic seized her at the threat the water posed. It was one thing to cast out your nets, quite another to step foot in water where you could not see the bottom. Yet, Joash disappeared beyond the falls. Fear for the child’s safety left her to follow him.
She waded through the water, constantly looking over her shoulder. Yet, she also sought the boy’s every movement. Mira stood in front of the water tumbling from the cliff above, unsure of what to do. The bubbling froth roaring in her ears rocked her back and forth. She thought she’d heard the whinny of a horse, but when she turned to look, Joash grabbed her hand and yanked. Mira lost her balance and fell behind the curtain of water.
Smoothing her wet tresses back from her eyes, she could see large, blurred figures through the cascading water, searching the edge of the pool. She stood there, Joash’s hand gripped in hers, veiled by the falling stream, unable to move for fear they’d be discovered. Mira wished for a clearer view of their pursuers, but she could not do so without giving up their hiding place. And the roar of the falls kept her from hearing their words.
After a few moments, when the blurred visions disappeared and all seemed safe, Joash nudged her to follow him as he climbed the rock wall behind the falls. The child slipped into the darkness. She reached up and gripped the rock jutting out from the wall and hefted herself up onto the ledge.
Sitting there, she could see through the waterfall the soldiers had returned. They prowled the edge of the pool. She held her breath when one knelt. But then he rose and left.
A soft glow appeared from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and gaped. The light illuminated a cave complete with furnishings large enough to hold a small family.
“Who—who showed you this place?”
“Ari.”
Puzzled, she looked at the child. Surely he was mistaken. How would Ari know of such a place? She rose, dripping wet from her seat. Her ears pounded with the water crashing to the pool of water below. But she was sure the sound was not what made her feel faint. She noticed many things that would never have belonged to a man desperate enough to sell himself as a servant.
“You must be mistaken,” she whispered as she tiptoed farther into the cave toward a wooden chest that had caught her attention. She stared at the cedar box with a lion carved into the top. Scared at what she would find, but unable to halt her movements, she knelt on a thick, plush rug. She unhooked the latch and opened the lid. Handfuls of shekels, golden goblets, ornately engraved short swords and swaths of fabric too rich for a man of Ari’s humble standing were nestled within the chest.
Two small black boxes sat on top with leather straps draping down the side. She drew her finger along the beautiful script. The box tumbled and slipped to the bottom of the chest. She reached in to retrieve it. Her fingers brushed against a lumpy leather bag. She removed it from the chest and held it up.
Her heart pounded against her breast bone as she untied the cord. The leather bag opened like a flower. Several stones appeared against royal silk. One of the stones caught her eye and she picked it up with her gnarled fingers. She held it up to the oil lamp nestled into a nook in the wall. The stone lit like fire, flaming to life in her hand.
She glanced down at the other stones. The rushing sound of the falls seemed to grow louder and she swayed. She knew each tribe had their own signet. Her father wore a similar one around his neck. Why would Ari have all of these?
The flaming stone began to warm in the palm of her hand. She laid the pouch down to better examine the fiery stone. She held it closer to the lamp.
“You must be mistaken,” she repeated, her voice louder.
“No. It was Ari.”
With the stone flickering in the palm of her hand, she knew the boy spoke the truth, a truth she did not have time to question. For the next breath had her looking into the eyes of one of the men who hunted them.
Chapter Eight
Mira didn’t think about what she was doing, she only acted. She grabbed one of the weapons lying on one of the benches and jumped in front of Joash. The weight of the weapon wavered in her hands. She braced her feet, lest she fall over. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her breaths were short and quick.
Lord, I am but a woman, and this man is a giant.
Water cascaded over the contours of the giant’s bulging shoulders as he scanned the cavern with an assessing eye. His hands hung loose at his sides. He seemed relaxed, which caused fear to pound a little harder in her head.
His right eye twitched as the corner of his mouth curled. His chest expanded and she thought he might charge at her. Instead he nodded, turned around and left.
The sword began to drop from her hands but she stilled the muscles in her arms. She released a breath of air, and sucked another in. Laying the sword back in its place, she picked up a small dagger and looked at Joash. “Stay here.”
Mira peered over the edge of the rock just as the warrior dove beneath the falls. She climbed down and slipped into the water. She edged around the rocks until she found an opening in the falls to where she could spy the man.
The warrior rose out of the water. Waves sloshed against his shins, rocking him back and forth with the motion. He swiped his hand across his eyes.
“Praise be to the gods you are alive, Ianatos.” A queen’s soldier sat with his legs crossed a good distance from the shore.
Mira’s footing slipped and she sucked in a sharp breath of air as she grabbed hold of a rock. The warrior tossed a glance toward her before jamming his hands on his hips. He glared at her, rolled his shoulders as if to ease the tension. “Your gods have naught to do with my swimming capabilities, Roab.”
Roab’s eyes widened. His lips stilled, but his hands fluttered like a griffin ruffling its feathers.
“Your superstitions are no more than a child’s imagination.”
“The creatures...” Roab crawled forward on his hands and peered into the waters.
Mira dropped her gaze to the water lapping around her waist.
“There are no dangerous creatures in these shallow waters.” Ianatos bent down and snatched a small fish in midswim. “Unless of course, you fear this.” He held the fish eye level and watched as it puckered its mouth. He glanced at his companion. “Hungry?”
Roab’s mouth moved much like their meal, but no sound emitted. Ianatos stepped onto the jagged bank and tucked the flapping fish between the rocks. “Hand me a linen.”
His companion stood to his feet, pulled a piece of cloth from one of the sacks and handed it to him. His gaze scanned the pool of water. Mira pressed back into the shadows. “What did you see, my friend? Did you find the rebels?”
Ianatos wiped the droplets of water from his head and then over his shoulders before drying his chest. Mira held her breath. What would this giant warrior tell the Hebrew? Long moments of silence caused her heart to pound in her ears.
“You were under the water a long while. Longer than any man can hold his breath in a bath.”
True. However, if the Hebrew discovered the warrior hadn’t been in the water the whole time, the queen’s guard would descend upon them. She waited, wondering if she’d have to defend Joash against these trained soldiers.
“You forget my upbringing.”
“Yes, you Philistines have a way with the deep. It’s as if the gods have granted you gills.”
Ianatos laid the cloth over a rock. He eased to the ground and reclined in the sun. “Might I ask you a question, Roab?”
Roab squinted. “I’m curious, Ianatos. You are a man of few words.”
“Few words are needed for a soldier.” He picked up a small stone, glanced toward where Mira stood and tossed it into the water.
“Then ask, my friend,” Roab said as he formed a ring of stones for a fire.
Ianatos crossed his arms. Deep lines furrowed his brow. Mira bit down on her tongue. What question would this man ask his companion?
“Why is it you Hebrews have turned away from your God?”
Mira clamped her hand over her mouth. How often had she wondered the same thing but dared not ask even those men she knew remained faithful.
A stone tumbled from Roab’s hand and rolled down the embankment. “You speak treason. What is it you found in the waters?”
Water lapped around her waist. A chill crept over her arms. She closed her eyes and prayed.
“Nothing.”
She snapped her eyes open. “Thank you, Lord.”
“I saw nothing.” Ianatos sat forward. “I’m only curious as to why you praise bronze idols instead of your true God.”
Glancing up at the sky, Roab rocked back on his heels and sat. “Our God has abandoned us. We worship idols because our queen requires it of her people. If she were to demand we bow to the one true God, we would.”
Roab’s reasoning held no foundation. Mira could tell he was fickle. As were most of the Hebrews who’d turned from God.
Mira began to climb back onto the ledge when Ianatos’s voice halted her.
“It grows late. You should build a fire atop that ledge so we might send a message to Suph that all is clear while I finish preparing our meal.” Ianatos pointed to a high place above the waterfall.
She watched a few moments as Ianatos cleaned the fish. His gaze darted toward her as his companion left the area. Mira didn’t know why this Philistine had chosen to keep her and Joash a secret, but she was thankful for the blessing.
Chapter Nine
“Adon, adon!”
Ari jumped to his feet and peered down the path. Matthias, one of Caleb’s servants, ran wild-eyed looking to and fro. Air whooshed out of Ari’s lungs as if he’d been punched. He sucked in hard and forced his muscles to relax when his mind screamed at him to run back to the village.
“Matthias, here!” Ari waved.
Matthias glanced at him, his eyes haggard, bruised. He looked like a man bedeviled. Ari was not alone in his discernment.
“Shalom, Matthias,” Caleb called. “What is wrong?”
The man bent over, hands on knees. In between heaving gulps of air, he tossed weary glances over his shoulder as if he expected a great cat to appear. Or worse.
A rock settled in the pit of Ari’s stomach. “Matthias, you have naught to fear,” Ari offered as he handed him a jug of water.
Matthias uncorked the bottle and sipped from the opening. Tears clung to the rim of his eyelids. He tried to speak. “They have come.”
“Who came?” Caleb asked.
But Matthias continued as if Caleb had not spoken. It was not like the man to show disrespect, which could only mean he had been given a great shock.
“I knew they would come and bring fear to this land. And they did.”
“Who, Matthias? Who?” Caleb shook his head. His hands trembled.
“Men of war. They came and, do you not smell the burning?”
Ari lifted his nose and caught a faint whiff of charred wood.
“The queen’s guard is scouring the village. They were—were asking about the children.”
“The children?” Caleb’s brow furrowed deep.
Ari bit back the curses on his tongue. Had Athaliah discovered Joash’s existence? Ari glanced at Caleb, whose eyes filled with tears. He could tell by the movement of the older man’s lips that he lifted up a prayer.
“We—we should return,” Caleb choked. “Matthias, if you would carry word to the next village—”
“Of course, adon.” Matthias bowed and raced away on nothing but his sandaled feet.
Ari bowed his head. “Caleb, I do not wish to leave you, however, I feel helpless. I should have been there.” Ari’s conscience weighed heavy upon his heart. What evil had he brought on these good people?
“We will go together, pray this beast will make haste and hope the Lord has spared our family.”
Our family. Ari’s heart swelled even as it broke. He wished for Caleb’s confidence, but he could not stop the urgency pushing at his feet and the fear gnawing in his chest.
“If only we had grain to offer up to the Lord,” Ari mused aloud thinking it would please the Lord to have a burnt offering.
“Do you think our God cannot see our circumstances?” Caleb asked.
Ari shook his head. “I’m quite certain He does, but the law—”
“Athaliah has banned our altars to God. But that has not stopped those of us who trust in the Lord from lifting up our thanksgiving.” Caleb tilted his chin, looking toward the sky. “I believe the Lord to have a compassionate heart toward those who love Him. If He did not, the world would have perished with the flood.”
A breeze blew across the rocky desert and encompassed Ari, cooling his skin from the blazing sun. It was as if the Lord had commanded the wind to agree with Caleb. Perhaps, his master was correct. Perhaps, the all-knowing God, creator of heaven and earth was more concerned with the intent of a man’s heart than his actions.
“Help me down, Ari.”
“Yes, adon.”
Caleb wrapped his arm around Ari’s shoulders as he helped him off the donkey. “You must quit calling me master, Ari. You are a free man, and soon, I pray, my son.”
“Until that day, I will continue to give you the honor due you, adon.”
“So be it.” Caleb wrapped his bony fingers around Ari’s arm and shuffled toward a small grove. He knelt and motioned for Ari to do the same. “Let us thank the Lord for safe travels and the protection of our people.”
Ari watched as Caleb lifted his tunic off his shoulders and draped it over his head. A pang of longing gripped Ari.
He did not want to take the time to pray. He wanted to run back to the village. To Joash and Mira posthaste. He needed to see with his eyes, not just hope in his heart, that they were well. However, he must trust in the Lord, even blindly. If only it were easier done than said.
After their prayers were finished, Ari helped Caleb back onto the donkey and tugged rider and beast through the fields and between a canopy of branches. It did not take long for the sweet scent of the afarsemon to be replaced with the distinct scent of charred wood.
What had only this morning been vibrant greenery with blooms, was now a blackened mess. Their steps slowed as they took in the sight. Ari assumed shock had overtaken Caleb’s tongue. For Ari knew he hadn’t words for the desolation, either. Only disbelief and anger at the needless destruction of Caleb’s crops. And a deep concern for what lay ahead of them.
They rounded the corner and Ari halted his footsteps. He reached out and wrapped his arm around Caleb to steady him lest he fall from the donkey’s back. Ari gaped at what should have been an altar at the edge of the fields as Caleb’s shoulders shook with his sobs.
All that remained of the altar was a pile of rubble. Ari dared not inspect the smoldering pile further. Knowing the cruelty of Athaliah’s guards, Ari feared the worst. However, all he saw were chopped portions of branches from the surrounding olive trees.
“Who would do such a thing, Ari? Who?”
Ari closed his eyes. There was no need to answer Caleb, for both knew the truth. Besides, he wished not to waste another moment before he set eyes on Mira, and of course, Judah’s rightful king. “Let us be done here.”
As if realizing he might find the same horror at home, Caleb’s eyes widened in fear. “You are correct, Ari.”
Lord, what have I done? I never should have left them alone. Even for a short time.
Ari could argue the whys of the matter, but the truth was he was responsible for this tragedy. And he had no doubt Athaliah would have a grand laugh when she realized Ari’s part.
His conscience ate at him as they approached the walled village. For he heard nothing but wailing. “Lord, forgive me,” he muttered beneath his breath.
“What need of forgiveness do you have, my son?”
It was not the Lord who had asked the question, but Caleb. Ari would much prefer to speak with God on this matter.
“For my iniquities, adon,” Ari responded, hating his deception.
“I suppose we all have them, do we not?”
Unable to speak, Ari nodded.
Just as they were about to enter through the gate, Ari halted. “I do not think it safe for you to go any closer. Not yet.”
“I must,” Caleb said.
“I will go.” Ari would go and see the destruction. He would—what would he do? Bury the dead to save Caleb from such devastation? Ari drew in a ragged breath.
“We will go together.” Caleb laid his palm on Ari’s shoulder and searched his eyes.
Ari’s shoulders sagged.
“I must know that my family is unharmed.”
“But, adon—”
“No!” Caleb snapped. In his years of service, Ari had not once heard his master raise his voice.
“Yes, adon. I understand, you must do what you must.”
Afraid of what they would find, Ari felt the urge to drag his feet. Yet he wanted to drop the donkey’s lead and run as fast as he could. He would not breathe easy until his gaze touched Mira and Joash.

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