Martha (8 page)

“No. He had to leave on a mission and I promised him an answer when he returns.”

He stood. “I see. Then I pray that you will bring him the answer that is right—for both of you.” He turned and, shaking his head, went to his pallet.

Martha stood in the moonlight for a long time, praying, and finally she too walked toward the house. She lay down wearily on her pallet and stared at the ceiling. How could she bring sorrow on her family? At least her father was gone now; she couldn't have borne his disappointment in her. She frowned. How many times had Nathan seen her when she thought no one was watching? How many times had he followed her? She knew with certainty that she was not going to stop meeting Thaddeus, but she must be more careful—especially when she knew who to watch for.

 11 

Nathan's wife, Rhoda, was dead. She finally succumbed after years of struggling with an unexplained illness. Unlike the family of Ephraim, Nathan buried his wife quietly, with only Martha's family and a few close neighbors in attendance.

He kept to himself during the time of mourning and silently accepted food from his friends. Lazarus went several times to talk with him. A few weeks later, Martha was standing by her gate when she turned to see Nathan walking toward her. He was pulling a small cart loaded with goods.

She eyed the cart. “Good morning, Nathan. Are you traveling?”

“I will say goodbye. I am sorry about the death of your father. He was a man of honor.”

Martha looked at him in astonishment. “You are leaving Bethany?”

He cleared his throat. “I'm taking some things of my wife's to the home of relatives in Capernaum as was her final wish. I'm not sure when I will return.”

Martha sensed he wanted to say more. There was an awkward silence, and then she said, “I wish you a good journey, Nathan, and thank you for the kindness to my father. He valued you as a friend.”

The dark eyes studied her briefly but were unreadable. Finally he just nodded his head solemnly, then suddenly his face became stern and his eyes bore into hers. “May all you do in the days to come honor his name,” he said sternly, and turning away, strode quickly down the road, leaving her staring after him. She knew what he meant, and she didn't know if she was angry or frightened.

She closed the gate more firmly than necessary and, grabbing the broom, began sweeping the courtyard with a vengeance.

The weeks dragged by and still there was no word from Thaddeus. She went to the olive grove on the Sabbath, but she waited alone. She wondered how far his band of soldiers would have to travel seeking this Barabbas.

It was in the middle of the fifth week, just after their evening meal, when there was a firm knocking on the gate. Lazarus rose, and with a glance of apprehension at his sisters, went slowly to open it. Martha moved protectively toward Mary and her heart pounded. Who would knock so loudly? Could it be soldiers? What had they done?

A Roman soldier did indeed stand at the gate, but he was alone. It was obvious he was uncomfortable and tried to cover the awkwardness with a gruff manner.

“I am Marcus, in the service of Captain Flavious. I seek a woman called Martha at this house. Is she here?”

Martha hurried to the gate, her fear giving way to gladness. Thaddeus must have sent her word of some kind.

“I am Martha. Do you have news for me?”

The soldier seemed startled at her quiet presence, giving her the idea that he'd expected another type of woman. Finally he nodded and pulled something from his pouch. “I have come on behalf of Captain Flavious. We were engaged in battle against a group of rebels and he was severely wounded.”

Martha stared at him and fear began to well up in her heart. “Captain Flavious, he is recovering?”

Seeing her stricken face, the soldier's gruffness softened. “I promised him I would come here to tell you in person. The battle was hard, and just as we were gaining on Barabbas and his band, one of their arrows found its mark and the captain suffered a mortal wound. He seemed to be recovering, but then his condition became worse. There was an . . . infection. He died of his wounds, two days ago. I'm sorry.” The soldier took a scroll out of his tunic along with something wrapped in a soft cloth.

“He told me the words to say that he could not . . .” The young man struggled with his emotions for a brief moment. “He was the finest soldier I ever knew.” He held out the scroll and cloth, and when she slowly took them, he turned abruptly and walked away, leaving Martha staring down at the scroll. She slowly unwrapped the cloth and found a gold medallion that shimmered in the palm of her hand.

Mary came and put her arm around Martha, who stood numbly, unable even to cry.

Lazarus gently took the scroll from her and unrolled it. She would want to hear the words and Martha could not read. The captain must have known Lazarus would be the one to read it, for to their surprise and relief, it was written in Hebrew.

My beloved,

I have little time. I thank our God for you and that I have known love once again in my life. Whatever you would have decided I knew I could live with, for I carry you in my heart. May you keep this medallion, a gift from my father to remember me by. I go to our God.

Farewell, my love,

Thaddeus

When he'd read the last word, Lazarus carefully rolled up the scroll and put it back in her hand. Mary led her across the courtyard and eased her down on a bench by the house. She sat, clutching the scroll and medallion, as Mary stroked her hair and Lazarus knelt in front of her.

“I am so sorry, Martha. Forgive me for the harsh words I spoke to you. You had decided, hadn't you?”

She nodded her head slowly. “I could not let him go.”

Mary looked at Lazarus with a puzzled expression. “Is this the Roman soldier who saved our father's life?”

“Yes,” he murmured quietly.

Suddenly Mary's face lit with understanding. “I wondered about those Sabbath afternoons.”

Martha's voice came out in a cracked whisper. “I would like to be alone for a while.”

Mary hugged her and went into the house. Lazarus stood and gave his sister a sorrowful smile. “You know, for what it is worth, I wanted you to be happy.”

Then he too went to his bed.

Martha sat still for a long time, reliving the moments in the olive grove with Thaddeus, the sweet words, his strong arms around her, the thoughts of his villa in Cyprus. Yes, she had decided to marry him, for she didn't want to live without him. Now it didn't matter. He was gone and love went with him. She knew she couldn't grieve for Thaddeus openly, but with her father's recent death, no one would question her grief. The tears flowed freely now and she didn't wipe them away.

She fell to her knees with her arms around herself, rocking back and forth. Anguished cries rose up in her throat and she longed to cry aloud. Finally she stuffed her gathered cloak against her mouth and moaned softly. “Thaddeus, Thaddeus, my dear love,” she whispered as her body shook with grief. She stayed that way for a long time until she slid forward and lay uncaring on the cold, packed earth.

“Oh God Who Sees, take me also. If not together in life, let me join him in death. I don't want to live without him.”

She awoke sometime later, chilled to the bone. She opened her hand and looked at the medallion for a long moment and then clutched it to her heart. His hands had held this. It had been about his neck.

She looked up at the night sky. Had the God Who Sees kept her from making a mistake? Would it have worked out the way she dreamed? Could she have left Mary and Lazarus and gone off to Cyprus with Thaddeus? Now she would never know.

She forced herself to get up and, wiping her face on her cloak, walked unsteadily toward the house. As she entered, she was relieved to find her brother and sister still asleep. She looked about for a place to keep her treasures and her eyes fell on the small chest. She opened it quietly, and down in a corner, under her mother's wedding dress, she placed the scroll and medallion and then closed the lid.

Martha felt sure no one else in their village knew of her meetings with Thaddeus but Lazarus and Nathan. They would keep her secret, Lazarus because he was her brother and loved her, and Nathan because her father had been his friend. He would not bring shame on Ephraim's family.

As she slowly sank down on her pallet, there was a movement from Mary, and Martha turned to find her sister awake.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.”

“It's all right, Martha, I could not sleep. You wanted to be alone, so I did not disturb you.” Mary rose and came to her sister. She knelt down and put her arms around her. “Oh, Martha, I'm so sorry.”

The two sisters held each other for a long time as a bird's sweet song from the sycamore tree wafted through the shadows, heralding a new day that was to come.

 12 

Lazarus slammed the gate and stood in the courtyard, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

Martha saw the look on his face and hurried over. “My brother, whatever has happened? You look terrible.”

“There will be no wedding.”

She stepped back in shock. “No wedding? What has changed your mind?”

His shoulders sagged. “Tekoa, the nephew of Shaul and Helah, who is visiting from Bethlehem.”

She shook her head, trying to understand. “What does Tekoa have to do with the wedding?”

“I saw Shua with him in the grove of sycamore trees. They were standing close together. It was the look on Shua's face—she has never gazed at me like that.”

“You think she cares for him? But she is betrothed to you, Lazarus. If she has behaved improperly, that is a serious matter for the Elders.”

He shook his head slowly. “No, there must be another way.”

Just then there was a loud knocking at the gate and Martha opened it to find Shua and her father, Neziah. He still wore his leather potter's apron and there was dried clay on his hands.

“My daughter has been weeping ever since she came home and she will not tell me why.” He pulled the frightened girl into the courtyard and glared at Lazarus. “What have you done?”

Lazarus looked at her sadly. “Will you tell him?”

“I meant no harm,” Shua stammered.

Lazarus sighed. “She was in the grove with Tekoa.”

Neziah turned to his daughter. “What were you doing in the grove with him?” He grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her.

“I . . . I have been meeting Tekoa, the nephew of Shaul and Helah, in the grove. Lazarus saw us together.”

Martha put her arm around Shua. “You must tell us, Shua. Have you and Tekoa done anything that would bring shame on your family?”

Shua sniffed and wiped her eyes on her shawl. “We have not done anything wrong. We've only talked. He has not even touched me.” She began weeping again, pleading with Lazarus. “You must believe me.”

Neziah's eyes flashed. “You have shamed yourself and our family. You should not even be alone with another man. You are betrothed.” He raised his arm as if to strike her and Lazarus stepped forward.

“No. I do not believe she has done anything wrong.” He searched the stricken girl's face. “Is it Tekoa your heart has chosen instead of me, Shua?”

She looked up at him hesitantly and, seeing the compassion in his face, nodded her head.

Lazarus's shoulders slumped and he stood looking down at the ground a long moment. Then he turned to Neziah. “The matter is done. Let us resolve this in a quiet way. I will go into Jerusalem and procure a bill of divorcement for Shua. I will say I chose not to be married at this time. You can pretend anger and say you will seek a more suitable husband. Then you can travel to Bethlehem and make arrangements with Tekoa's parents.” Lazarus thought a moment. “Tekoa should return home immediately so there is no chance of scandal. I will suggest that to him quietly tomorrow.”

Neziah stood for a long moment, looking at Lazarus and then his daughter. Finally he shook his head slowly. “You would save our family from shame. I have no words. You are an honorable man, Lazarus. I will not forget.” He gave Lazarus a sad smile. “You would have made a fine son-in-law. May the God Who Sees bless you for your kindness.”

Shua was looking up at Lazarus, her eyes wide. “You would do that for me, Lazarus?”

He put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Perhaps God has something else in mind for me, Shua. We will leave it in his hands.”

Neziah turned to his daughter. “Let us return home. You will not leave our house until I travel to Bethlehem and the arrangements are made. If you see Tekoa again before this matter is attended to, I will not be responsible for the outcome. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father.” She sniffed.

Neziah bowed to Lazarus and they left.

When the gate closed, Martha turned to Mary, who had been standing near the house, listening with wide eyes. “You will not speak of this to anyone, Mary. It must remain quiet.”

“I would not betray our brother, Martha. You know that.”

His brave demeanor melted as Lazarus sat down suddenly on a bench and put his face in his hands. Mary went and put her arms around his shoulders.

Martha stood looking at both of them. Was there no end to the sorrow her family must bear? Would they be able to keep this quiet as they hoped? The next few days would tell.

Lazarus went to speak with Tekoa. When he returned, Mary had gone to her pallet for the night and Martha sat in the courtyard contemplating all the things that had happened in the last few weeks.

Lazarus motioned for Martha to come near. He glanced around them quickly and then whispered, “There may be trouble. Faced with the circumstances, Shaul confessed the reason that Tekoa was there. He has traveled with the rebels.”

“The rebels?”

“Barabbas.”

She gasped. “The robber Thaddeus and his men were seeking?”

“That is the one.”

Fear gripped her heart. “Is our village in danger, Lazarus?”

“Shaul does not believe the soldiers recognized Tekoa, for in the battle he became frightened and stayed back in the trees. He doesn't think he was seen. He returned home, but his parents sent him to his uncle as a precaution.”

“Lazarus, they are crucifying any of the rebels they've caught. This could bring the Roman soldiers down on our village if they know he is here.”

“We must not fear, sister. We must believe the soldiers do not know him, or where he is. It is good that his parents persuaded him to stay out of sight.”

“Then he cannot return to Bethlehem.”

Lazarus shook his head. “This will complicate my plan for Shua.” He sat down suddenly on the bench. “What shall I do, sister?”

She put a hand on his shoulder, comforting her brother as he had comforted her only a short time before.

Lazarus suddenly pounded his fist into his palm. “I think I have a plan that would work.”

Martha shook her head. “You'd better go and talk with Shua's parents. Who knows what they will agree to do.”

“Under the circumstances, I think they will agree.” He hurried from the courtyard.

When Lazarus returned an hour later, it was with relief.

“Shua's parents have agreed to my plan, as did Tekoa. We will all leave early in the morning for Jerusalem.”

“We?”

“Tekoa, Shua, her parents, you, Mary, and myself. We will be less conspicuous if there are women in the group. We will ask Hanniel if we can have the wedding performed in his courtyard. Will you go?”

It was fall, the month of Tishri, and they had just been to Jerusalem to celebrate the Festival of Tabernacles.

“Lazarus, I have work to do. We have been gone nearly a week. How will Hanniel welcome us so soon after hosting us for Sukkoth? How can we impose on Hanniel and Sherah again?” She stared at him while all the negative things she could say passed through her mind.

“Sister, we must go. We will find Rabbi Abraham to marry Shua and Tekoa, then they will slip out of the city. Shua's aunt and uncle in Hebron have been sent word. They will go there.”

“Lazarus, the city will still be crowded with pilgrims from Sukkoth
,
and where there are crowds there are more soldiers. It would be dangerous for all of us. What if they recognize Tekoa?”

They argued in whispers, but in the end, she agreed. If Lazarus could do this for Shua in spite of his hurt, she could do this for Lazarus.

When Lazarus had gone to his bed, she went up on the roof and, falling on her knees, implored the God Who Sees to protect their village and her home. “May Lazarus's plan work for all of us.” A soft breeze brushed her face and the turmoil in her heart subsided. Comforted, she knew now that she would never marry. She would remain in Bethany and take care of her family every way she knew.

Lazarus and Tekoa glanced around furtively as the small group gathered the next morning. Shua, her face drawn and fearful, was dressed in white homespun and a soft, blue mantle. She carried a small bundle of her belongings on her arm. Her parents, Neziah and Saffira, were tight-lipped and silent. As an additional precaution, Tekoa wore a dark cloak to hide his face. Mary was not feeling well, and Martha was reluctant to leave her alone at home. At Lazarus's whispered urging, Martha finally agreed to go to Jerusalem. She assured Mary they would be home as quickly as possible.

Mary went to Shua and embraced her. “I wish you well as Tekoa's wife. I would have liked to have you for my sister-in-law, but I understand.” She turned to Lazarus. “I will feed the animals if you are delayed.”

Shaul bade his nephew goodbye and turned to Lazarus. “You have my deepest apologies for bringing this sorrow to your house. We had no idea when we agreed to shelter our nephew that it would cause so much grief.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Shaul, but are not all things in the hand of God?”

Shaul nodded and turned away sadly.

The small band walked down the road, and Martha hoped fervently that they appeared to be just an ordinary family group going to Jerusalem. Tekoa walked between Lazarus and Neziah, his head down and the cloak pulled about his face. Shua walked with her mother and Martha.