Читать книгу The Warrior's Vow - Christina Rich - Страница 12

Chapter Four

“What is this?”

Abigail jumped to her feet and faced Captain Suph. She’d feared he would arrive but hoped he’d been too caught up in his wine to care about the prisoner for the night. Micah once again puffed out his chest as if to protect her from the captain who had always left her feeling as if she should disappear. His black eyes were cold and soulless. What had her mother found pleasing in him?

“Dara is healing his wounds.” Abigail stiffened her spine.

Suph pushed farther into the tent. He peered down at the sleeping prisoner and then at the bone needle between her fingers. “It looks as if you are tending his wounds, Abigail. It’s not fitting for a queen to demean herself as such.”

Abigail felt her eyes widen. “Until a few days ago nobody cared much about my activities as long as I remained in my chambers.”

He reached out and grabbed a handful of hair. His fingers clung to her tresses. “That was before your mother was murdered, leaving you heir to the throne. Your mother never would have lowered herself to a servant’s duties.”

How was Abigail to know this? She rarely saw her mother. If the servants hadn’t told her, Abigail never would have known who her mother was. The beautiful woman had rarely paid her any heed. “You are right, Suph. My mother would have been more likely to help you torture a man than help him.”

Suph swung his arm back. Abigail squeezed her eyes closed and hunched in on herself, waiting for the blow. After several long moments she opened her eyes. Micah, as small as he was, stood in front of Abigail with his arms crossed in front of him.

Suph curled his lip. “You are brave for one so young. It’s an admirable quality. However, I fear it will see you killed if you’re not careful.” He clouted Micah’s shoulder, knocking him to the ground. With nobody standing between them, Suph’s menacing eyes bored into hers.

The hammering in Abigail’s chest picked up the pace. Tears stung the back of her eyes. “I will ask you kindly to leave, Suph.”

The captain growled; grabbing hold of her neck, he pressed his wine-soaked breath close to her ear. “I’ll remind you, Abigail, your position as queen depends solely upon me. Without me, without my men, you are nothing. If this rebel regains his strength, he’ll kill you.” He pulled back. The lines at the corners of his eyes melded together as he clenched his jaw. “Do not doubt me in this, Abigail. He will kill you.”

“Captain, would you be liking a drink? From the royal coffers, I’m certain.”

Suph pulled his gaze from Abigail’s and glanced at Dara. He tore the goblet from the healer’s hand and gulped it down. Red liquid sloshed onto his beard and tunic.

“I forgive you for your lack of wisdom, Abigail, dear.” He handed the cup back to Dara. “Do not cross me again and never speak ill of your mother. Ever.”

Abigail stretched to her full height and looked down on Suph. “When I am queen—”

He grabbed hold of her arm, his fingers bruising her through her garments. “When you are queen, you’ll be my wife and you’ll learn to respect my wishes.” His fingers bit deeper. “Is that understood?”

Abigail couldn’t say a word. The smell of blood, Jesse’s blood, mixed with Suph’s drunkenness, which clung to his person, caused her stomach to churn and bile to rise.

Suph jerked her forward. “I demand an answer.”

Why had he obeyed the earlier commands she’d given him in front of his men, when he now demanded his own of her in private? Did he not trust his men would allow him to treat her poorly?

“Captain, the princess has had a grueling time of it. Having lost the last of her family, being cast from her home and raced through the desert. Ach, my old bones are crying out in agony. How our delicate princess must feel. She’ll be her more biddable self once she’s had some rest, I’m certain.”

Suph released her. His gaze bounced from Dara to Micah, and then to the prisoner before once again halting at Abigail. “Do not touch him. Do not attempt to heal him, or I’ll kill him and things will not go well with you, my dear.” He curled his lip and glanced at Micah. “Nor with you.”

Micah held Suph’s murderous gaze. Suph settled his hand on the hilt of his sword. His fingers clenched around the bound leather. Fear permeated Abigail’s core, causing her knees to quake. She stilled the temptation to shield Micah from Suph’s wrath. Doing so would only ensure Micah met a wicked end.

Perhaps worse than Jesse’s.

“Do not force my hand, Abigail. I will do what I must.” He dropped his hand to his side, turned on his heel and ducked between the tent flaps.

She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders sagging. “What am I going to do? I cannot bow to his demands. He’ll perceive it as weakness and use it against me.”

A warm hand touched Abigail’s forearm. She glanced down at the gnarled, papery hand and then into the warm, kind eyes of Dara. “We should go back to Jerusalem. The priest, Jehoiada, would offer you refuge.”

Abigail sucked in a sharp breath. “He had my family killed.”

Dara shrugged and then knelt beside the prisoner. “Only your mother, child.”

“What do you mean by such words?” Silence echoed against the fabric of the tent. Abigail paced, uncertain of what she should do.

“Dara is correct, Abigail.” Micah’s soft, childlike voice whispered in the tent. “The captain means you no good. He needs you to rule Jerusalem.”

Of course. Fool that she was, she somehow believed her position as queen would gain her respect. Even from the captain. She did not ask to be queen and had no desire to be as such. If only she could return to her chambers and be left alone... Her gaze dropped to Jesse’s sleeping form. He needed her help. No matter Suph’s threats, she would not allow him to die or to remain within reach of the captain’s cruel hands.

“Do you wonder why your mother did not marry him, child?”

The question knotted in Abigail’s chest, twisting and turning. “I was kept in a chamber, Dara. I have little knowledge of my mother’s activities.” She sighed and dropped to her bedding. “I fear I have little knowledge of the city I grew up in. Perhaps you’re right and I should rest. The morrow will look much brighter.”

Her words seemed hollow. As long as Suph controlled her and threatened the people within this tent, nothing would be bright.

“Child, there is no time for rest. You must decide to act now.”

Abigail jerked her head up. The skin between her eyebrows knitted together. “What is it you are suggesting?”

“She’s suggesting—” Jesse swallowed, his voice weak “—you choose your own fate, Abigail.”

She shuddered. “How am I to do that?”

“I will help you.” He pressed up on his elbows. Tremors raced through his body at the effort.

Abigail laughed. “You are half-dead, prisoner.”

He smirked. A dark eyebrow arched under his black curly hair.

“I will help,” Micah offered. “Suph’s reputation is fierce. Cruel. He’ll do as he says and kill us if we don’t obey.” The boy dropped his chin to his chest. “And most likely even if we do as he demands.”

She shook her head. “I do not see how we will make it out of the camp. Alive.”

Dara’s raspy chuckle filled the tent. “I can help with that, and there are others who would help. Of course, you may never be Queen of Judah. However, you would be free to live as you please.”

Abigail pressed her fingers to her forehead in an attempt to ease the beginning of a head pain. “I can’t. That child the priest insists is the rightful king—”

“He is the rightful king. The son of your brother Ahaziah, your nephew, Abigail.”

Butterflies danced along her skin. She’d wanted to know the truth but hadn’t expected this. Could she trust this man? “How is it you believe this?”

“I do not just believe it, Abigail. I know it. I knew your brother.” Dark shadows flickered in his eyes. “The child is his.”

* * *

He had no idea how this was going to work. An old lady, a child, a timid woman and himself. Abigail was right, he was barely alive, but if he did not convince her to leave, no doubt he would soon be dead. As would she.

“I do not know who or what to trust.” Abigail pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin there.

“I will not ask you to trust me. We are strangers. However, you should trust your captain’s words. He will not hesitate to kill Micah, nor you if he chooses.” His strength began to wane and he dropped against the pillows.

“How can you be certain of Suph’s character? How do you know he is not full of words?”

Her innocence reached somewhere deep inside. This was not only about his survival but hers, as well. After fighting the excruciating pain for so long he’d dozed off only to wake to an atmosphere so tense he wouldn’t have been able to cut it with his sword. Suph’s threatening manner had tempted Jesse to rise and dispatch the man. If he’d been able to he would have, too. But Jesse knew better than to interfere lest he meet his death then and there. If that had happened there would be no rescuing this lady and her young protector. He wouldn’t be able to keep Judah, his beloved country, safe.

Jesse shifted his gaze toward her. “Suph left many villages in desolation. He burned their crops, slaughtered their animals.” He paused, uncomfortable with his next words. He closed his eyes, recalling with clarity the devastation and the weeping mothers. “He cut down their children in the name of your mother, looking for a single child, your nephew, King Joash.”

“This cannot be true. My mother—”

“Ordered the atrocities.” He tore his gaze from hers. The horror etched on her face left him feeling like the worst kind of evil. Perhaps he shouldn’t have told her, but she’d asked for the truth, and that was one truth she needed to hear, even if it wasn’t the one she had meant.

“Ach, your mother was as cruel as any.” Dara hid her dislike behind a goblet.

“It is true,” Micah said. When Abigail glanced at him, he shuffled his feet. “I heard some of the soldiers speaking about it.”

Jesse found it odd that these people agreed with him. It was a mercy he was more than thankful for.

Abigail wrapped her arms around her waist and bent over. A soft keen echoed in the tent, intruding on the flickering firebrands. Piercing his heart. He wanted to reach out, take her in his arms and offer her comfort. However, it was not his place.

“If we are to sweep you away from the camp, child, we need to act now.”

Her rocking motion came to a sudden halt. She sat up straight as she swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “How is it even possible?”

The corners of Dara’s mouth slid upward. “You give the command. A little of this,” she held up a small earthen jar no bigger than the palm of her hand, “in their wine and the entire camp will sleep until midday.”

Abigail’s gaze settled on Jesse. “And what of him?”

Her question formed a knot in the pit of his stomach. Not that he thought she’d leave him behind. The care she and Dara had taken with his wounds told him they were both compassionate, even if he was their enemy. No, the fact that she thought things through, when he had a tendency to act first and think later, caused him a bit of shame.

“I’ve chamomile and my sons. They were not pleased to be forced from their home. They do not like Suph.”

Jesse did not like the way the tension left Abigail’s face, nor the way her eyes lightened at the mention of Dara’s sons. Had she affection for them? Not that it mattered. However, a part of him did envy whoever it was who caused such a reaction in her.

He glanced at the old woman and prayed her sons were able-bodied men and not frail. Given the size of their mother he doubted such mercy had found him. “You would be surprised what things a man can do when he has the will to live. I will have no more of your herbs, old woman.” He couldn’t risk having dulled senses.

Abigail considered him for a short time as she chewed on her bottom lip. Jesse smiled. The more time he spent in her presence the more beautiful she became. Not the magnificent beauty her mother had portrayed, but a beauty in her own right, with her high forehead and wide mouth. But what made her even more splendid was the gentleness of her soul. The pureness radiating from her.

Abigail glanced at Micah. The boy nodded and she seemed to sigh in relief. It was odd she took cues from the child. She looked back toward Jesse. “I do not trust you, Jesse. However, something tells me you will help me find the truth I seek.”

The truth of the one true God. He only hoped he could offer her counsel. He was not his brother Ari, a man well versed in God’s law. No, he was a warrior who spent much of his time praying, nothing more. She bowed her head. “It is obvious I am in danger if I stay here.”

“I can make you no promises, Abigail. I have vowed to protect Judah. At all costs. As long as you and your people do not stand in the way of that goal I will bring no harm upon your heads. However, one hint that you betray the greater good of Judah and King Joash, and I will have no constraint. In that your captain is correct.”

“You are loyal to your cause. I admire that strength. If only I knew what my cause was.” She tilted her chin. The glow from the firebrands illuminated the innocence in her eyes.

“I am loyal to the one true God, Abigail, and Judah belongs to Him. Not the false idols your mother worshipped. Not the one your people shame themselves before tonight.”

“Where would we go?”

Jesse twisted his lips. Where would they go? He couldn’t take her to Manna. He would not risk the people and their secrets there, not even to protect this woman, though she might be innocent of her mother’s crimes. He had no doubt Ari and Mira would welcome them, but he had no way of knowing if his brother and his love had returned safely to her father’s village, which left him only one choice.

“I will take you to Jerusalem to see Jehoiada, the high priest.”

Her lips parted as her eyes widened. She shook her head.

“Ach, our time is running short. What will it be, Abigail?”

“I do not know.”

“If you stay here, Suph will force a marriage upon you. He said as much. And if he succeeds in ousting King Joash he will raise himself up as King of Judah. You have seen his cruelty, Abigail. Are you willing to chance how he will treat you as his wife? How he will treat the people of Judah?”

The color in her cheeks drained, leaving her pale. She buried her face in her hands. She looked so small, no more than a child. The desire to protect her and those she cared for flowed in his blood. He glanced at Micah. The boy’s fierce protectiveness caused pride to swell in Jesse’s chest.

“What will it be, Abigail?”