Authors: Linda Ford
She twisted and turned, holding on to Joash. Where had Elam gone? Instinct roared at her to shout for Ari, but she couldn't utter a word. Not with the sight of twenty of the queen's guard barreling down on her with their swords raised.
How was she to deny fear when terror dogged her footsteps? She dropped to her knees beside Joash, circling him within the folds of her tunic, her face buried in the crook of his neck.
Father God, please protect us from our enemies.
The thumping of horses hooves pounded in her ears. Tears slid down her cheeks.
She was going to die a coward, and she hadn't once told Ari what was in her heart. He would never know that she loved him.
The smell of horse and man reached her and she tightened her grip on Joash. If she could not tell Ari of her love, she would tell this young child. “Joash, my brother,” she whispered against his ear. “I love you, brother.”
“And I you, Sh'mira.” His small childlike voice held a slight quiver and she couldn't help but think what a wonderful king he would have made.
Chapter Twenty-Five
A
ri watched as the last firebrand arched across the sky, propelling downward until it crashed near the bank where it exploded and roared to life. Ianatos dismounted. “At my command.” He held up his hand and then sliced it down.
Ari crossed his arms over his chest and listened with satisfaction as the multitude of sinews moved against the air, releasing their deadly weapons. The queen's guard had not a chance against the Philistine mercenaries' superior warfare, especially given the guard's swords glinted off the firelight, revealing their positions.
Pops, as the arrows pierced the leather armor followed by their grunts, sliced through the crackling of the fire. The queen's men were dead before they'd even laid eyes on the future king of Judah.
Ianatos tucked his helmet beneath his arm and issued a command to his fellow warriors. The mercenaries swung their bows upon their backs and headed toward Jerusalem where Ari knew they'd spread out along the walls and keep a watchful eye for any who'd wish the boy harm.
Ari approached Ianantos and held out his hand. “My thanks, friend.”
“It had been fortunate I'd been at the Hebrew camp when the messenger arrived with news of the child. Fortunate I was able to leave unnoticed and contact my companions.”
“No matter, I owe you a great debt.” Ari shook his hand.
“My vow is to my ancestors and their vow to protect the line of King David. Nothing more.” Ianatos sat his helmet on his head and laced the strap beneath his chin. He mounted his horse. “I'll wait for word in Jerusalem.”
Ari mounted a horse given to him by the Philistine. Jesse, he and his father rode toward the stream where Mira hunched in the middle of the spring, fire lined either side of the banks, encompassing her and the child wrapped in her arms.
A soldier and his horse flew across the spring, his face pale with fear. The guard fell from his mount and lay on his back, and arrow embedded in the leather armor. The guard's eyes stared unseeing, his chest unmoving. With his hand on the hilt of his sword, Ari glanced to see if any other survivors roamed.
“Elam!” Mira hollered. “Elam? Where are you?”
Ari dismounted and splashed into the water. He grabbed Mira's arms. She shoved him away. She took a step toward the shore and stumbled to her knees. “Elam! Joash, where are you?”
“Here, Mira.” The child touched her shoulder.
“Thank God,” she whispered, dropping her head.
“Mira?” Ari moved toward her again.
She blinked her eyes as if trying to focus. “Ari? Is that you?” She held her free hand out in front of her as if to feel her way.
Ari reached her and pulled her and Joash from the water. “It is I.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Are you well?”
Her hesitation alerted him. He squeezed her tight against him taking joy in the fact that her heart continued to beat.
“What has happened?” Joash asked.
“The queen's men attacked, but some Philistine warriors helped us thwart them,” Ishiah said as he came upon them.
Mira gasped and pulled from Ari's arms. “Elam? He was here with us. What has happened to him?”
“Do not fret, Sh'mira.” His father patted her shoulder as if to soothe her.
“If anything has happened to him...” she continued.
“Jesse is checking the area.”
Mira moved completely from his embrace drawing Joash along with her. She fell once again. “Are you well?” Ari asked her once again.
“I do not know, Ari. I cannot see.”
“What is it you mean that you cannot see?” Ari asked with concern.
“I do not know,” she responded. “It's as if I stared at the sun too long.”
He glanced at Joash. “Can you see?”
The child nodded his head. “When I first saw the fire descending I buried my face against Sh'mira.”
“Fire?” she asked.
“It is quite simple, my child,” his father offered. “The Philistines lit firebrands and shot them with their arrows. You must have stared at the fire.”
“Come, we have no time if you are to make it to Jerusalem before the next wave.” Jesse walked toward them.
“What do you mean?” Ari asked.
“One of the men was alive. He spoke of a traitor among us. Not that you are surprised, brother,” Jesse answered.
No he was not surprised.
“Who?” his father asked, shocked.
“Did you find Elam?” Mira trembled against him.
“No, I did not find him. Perhaps he ran back to camp to gather forces.”
Perhaps, but why would Elam leave their king to the mercies of armed soldiers?
Jesse scratched his bearded chin. “Since I was not able to obtain the name of our traitor, we must make all haste to Jerusalem at once. Before anyone discovers the boy is still alive.” Jesse crossed his arms over his chest in a commanding manner. Ari for once was glad to let someone else shoulder the burdens and take control. He just wanted to hold Mira.
“I will not leave them again,” Ari argued. “And I doubt Jehoiada will listen to anyone but me.”
“That, my dear brother, is why we will all go.” He smiled. “We have horses.” His smile broadened. “Father can ride one. Joash can ride with you, and Sh'mira may ride with me,” he said with an obnoxious grin.
“I think not,” Ari returned.
“Jealous, brother,” Jesse teased.
Ari eyed his sibling. “Never. However, I trust you to keep the child well.” The knowledge that his mission would be complete, sooner than he could have hoped, brought him relief. He guided Mira to one of the horses. He helped her mount and then pressed his lips to her knuckles before climbing behind her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A
s if not being able to see clearly had not been bad enough, she found herself tossed onto a beast much larger than the donkey she had ridden from Manna.
Even the presence of Ari could not soothe the nausea building wave upon wave with each jolt of the horse's hooves. She would have preferred to keep the giant to a simple walk for her first time on its back, although she understood Ari's urgency.
After the attack she was quite anxious to be done and return home, back to the safety in her father's house where the most adventurous thing that had ever occurred was a wild dog stealing sheep. However, the sooner she returned there the sooner Ari would be gone from her life. And even though she knew that they could never be together, she was not looking forward to saying their farewells, either.
Ari's arm tightened around her waist like a steel band as if he could read her thoughts. The horse tossed his head. She dug her fingers into Ari's arm. They smarted with the movement. She grasped her disfigured hand with her other and ran her fingers over her knuckles, the heat from the firebrands had aggravated her scars.
She sighed.
“Are you well?”
She nodded. Other than feeling sick to her stomach, a renewed ache in her hand and darkened vision, and the fact that she'd soon be parted from his strength, she felt wonderful. “I am fine, Ari.”
“How much longer before we reach the temple?” she asked seeking anything to keep her mind from dwelling on what could never be.
“I must take Joash to the temple alone.”
She gripped his forearm.
“Do not let your heart be troubled, you will stay with my father. I will send Jesse back to alert the camp. They will be with you before the sun rises.”
Had he forgotten about the traitor?
“And if God wills it our traitor will be ousted before they do.”
“And if he is not discovered, what then?” she asked, her nerves, added to the rocking motion of the large horse, were getting the best of her. She didn't know how much longer she could keep from obeying the commands of her stomach and discarding her evening meal.
“Have you no faith, Mira?” he whispered.
Ari's words were a reminder that the Lord had answered her prayers in more ways than one, for the Lord had protected her and Joash from their enemies. Although she had feared to see death coming in the image of horse, rider and curved sword, she had peeked through her lids. There'd been nothing but an inferno, and she could not tear her eyes from the flames, not even when she felt the heat on her flesh, nor when she smelled burning of her tunic. She had feared an enemy would swoop down upon them and she didn't want to be caught unaware.
If God had answered her prayers in a great time of need would He answer her other prayers, too? Would He find a way for her to stay with Ari?
Ari pulled up on the reins. The beast danced around, quivered and snorted. Mira tightened her hold once again on Ari's arm.
“What is it?”
She shifted, her ears attuned to his breaths. His chest rose and fell in short, shallow rhythms.
“Jerusalem.”
The word was no more than a whisper. A whisper of adoration. Devotion.
Jerusalem.
Ari's home. His destiny.
That one word for God's holy city squeezed her insides with the efficiency of a wine press, leaving nothing but empty skin. All her hopes for a future with Ari crushed.
“If only you could see...” The air in his lungs hitched, expanding his chest.
She stared in front of her and willed the bright spots dancing in her vision to lessen, willed the dimness in the corners of her eyes to lighten. It was like she'd stared at the sun too long.
“Tell me,” she urged.
“Torches line the gates. The stones look as if they're made of gold.”
“Are the gates as big as Hebron's?” Hebron had once been a holy city and still maintained much of its fortifications.
“No, they are much grander. Larger and wider. Wider than the breadth of your village, Mira. The towers seem to stretch to the heavens.”
She'd heard the stories from her parents and had longed to see the city. She sighed. Perhaps God protected her from herself. If she could not see the city she couldn't fall in love with it. Couldn't be tempted to leave her father's house and stay with Ari if he asked.
“We are approaching the eastern wall. It is nothing like you've ever seen.” He flicked the reigns. The horse jerked its head and snorted as it moved forward.
They rode for many long minutes before they halted once again. The saddle dipped and creaked as Ari slid to the ground. He placed his hands around her waist and brought her down alongside him. Although they had not been riding overly long her knees wobbled, threatening to tip her over. Ari held on to her.
“My thanks, my brother. I will forever be in your debt.” Ari leaned forward as he held on to her arm. She heard the smack of Ari's lips as he kissed his brother's cheeks.
“I will remember you said that, Ari.” Jesse chuckled and then grabbed her hand. He gave her a gentle squeeze. “If you need anything at all, Mira, you know how to find me.”
“You are leaving, then?” she tilted her head.
“I am heading to camp, but I will return if God wills it.” He kissed her brow, she felt, more than heard the growl rumbling through Ari's chest. His hand banded around her waist. “I will miss you, sister.”
“And I you, Jesse.”
“Abba,”
Jesse acknowledged.
“My son, may God go with you,” Ishiah said.
“And with you, too,
Abba.
” Leather creaked as Jesse mounted his horse. They stood there until she could no longer hear the clopping of hooves.
Ari twisted her in his arms. Sensing his gaze, her face warmed. “You must go with my father and enter the city through the gates. I will come to you as soon as I can.”
“Ari,” she whispered, placing her hand on his chest. All the words she wanted to stay clung to her tongue like honey. There they would have to stay, left unsaid. “Be careful.”
He swept in, his lips firm against hers. Before it began it was over and he was gone.
Two things bombarded her thoughts: she hadn't hugged Joash, and Ari had not said his goodbyes.
* * *
He hated leaving her, but the choice had not belonged to him.
“Joash,” he said, tearing off a piece of his tunic. “I must bind your eyes before we go any farther.”
“I understand. There are some secrets that must be kept,” the child responded.
Ari smiled as he knelt by the boy. “How did you gain such wisdom?” He wrapped the cloth around the boy's head and tied it in a knot.
“I have had an excellent teacher, Ariel. Even if you, too, are stubborn as a mule.”
Ari straightened, his eyes narrowed, he glared at the boy even if the child could not see it. “What makes you say such things?”
“You should have told Sh'mira of your love.”
“I will in due time, Joash.” He ruffled the boy's locks. “The way of love is not always an easy road to travel. You will see. Come, let us go and find Jehoiada.”
They skirted along the outer walls of the city until he was a hundred paces from the main gate, and then they walked out into the wilderness for another two hundred paces where a large fig tree stood. There they traveled east until he found a bit of bramble.
“Beware. You'll receive a few scratches,” Ari told him as he moved apart the thorn bushes and ducked between them into a tunnel. They entered the hollowed-out tunnel and followed it back to the city walls. Beneath the rocky desert the air was moist and thick, but the tunnels had been kept well, which set his mind at ease.
After many minutes, Ari came to a locked gate. He reached beneath his tunic and pulled out a leather strap with a key. He unlocked it. The hinges made not a sound, although he did not fool himself that Jehoiada was not aware of his presence. The man seemed to know all sorts of things.
They slipped through the gate. Their footsteps and the occasional dripping of water were the only sounds as they moved through the tunnels until they came to a lit corridor. The once decorated room with mosaic floor tiles, now lay in a deserted shambles. The tiles shattered, left where they crumbled. He'd known the temple had been damaged by Athaliah's cruelty, he hadn't realized how much.
“Come.” He guided Joash to another room much the same condition as the previous. The scent of myrrh teased his senses reminding him of a time long ago passed. He breathed deeply seeking to brand it firm into his memory lest he never experience it again.
A torch beckoned him from a small alcove. He peered inside. This small area seemed untouched by the cruelty. Ari stood outside and untied his sandals. He then knelt beside Joash and removed his sandals. Ari dipped a cloth into a basin of water and cleansed the boy's feet. Then he anointed them with fragrant oil. “I am honored to call you friend, Joash.”
The child held out his hand, Ari furrowed his brow. “What is it you wish?”
“I will wash your feet, Ariel,” Joash said with compassionate authority.
Ari closed his eyes against the kindness in this child. “You humble me, but it is not necessary,” Ari argued.
“Am I your friend?”
“Of course.” Ari bowed his head even though the child could not see him. If the child knew who he was would he still seek to wash Ari's feet? Of course he would. It was a part of who he was.
Ari placed a dry cloth in the boy's hand. Joash dropped to his knees and felt around for the basin of water. He took care with each swipe of the cloth.
“The oil?” Joash asked.
Ari complied, knowing any argument would be for naught.
“It is I who am humbled.” Joash poured oil into the palm of his hand. He rubbed his hands together and smoothed the oil over Ari's feet. “Ari, I will never forget the service you have offered our great God and Judah. I, my friend, will ever be in your debt for you have loved deeply enough to give your life for God, your country and your future king.”
Ari sucked in a sharp breath and glanced at the child. “You know?”
“Of course, Ariel. I've known for a while that I was set apart for a purpose. When Sh'mira fell to my feet, I wondered why. It did not take long to discover why your people treated me with such reverence.” The corners of his mouth slid upward in a mischievous grin. “Besides, there is nothing wrong with my hearing.”
Ari laughed. A tear slid down Ari's cheek. “I am going to miss you.”
He rose from his knees and hugged Joash to him before leading the boy into the alcove.
“It is time to kneel and give thanks to the Lord.”
They bowed their heads in silence. The last he had been here and had given thanks, the words had been meaningless. Words repeated from memory.
Now he spoke from his heart with sincere gratitude for all God had blessed him with over the past seven years.
Broken
was not a word he would use for what he felt, but
aware.
Aware that God had cared enough to show him His ways even through difficult times. Loved him enough to prove Himself to a mere man who had been lost in the dictates of the law. The difference was not just in his clean-shaven face instead of the Levitical beard, but his heart had changed, too.
“Lord, my God, creator of all the Earth. I stand before You in awe of Your Almighty greatness. May Thy hand continue to touch Thy servant, that I may walk in all Thy ways.
Abba
God,” he prayed, wrapping his arm around Joash. “Anoint this child with Your wisdom. May he rule in obedience to You. May he rule with Your grace and authority. Amen.”
“Amen,” Joash repeated. “May I remove the cloth, Ariel?”
“Soon, Joash. Soon.” He rose, drawing Joash along beside him. “Let us greet Jehoiada.”