Читать книгу The Guardian's Promise - Christina Rich - Страница 12

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?