Harvest - 02 - Harvest of Gold

by Tessa Afshar

  That’s a bit too close for comfort, Darius thought. Trust Lysander to take one look at the girl and work her out. “Now, now, children. Shield your blades and try to get along. We have to be in each other’s company for a while yet. Roxanna is coming as far as Jerusalem with us, before going on to Egypt.”

  He ordered dinner and, over bland food, filled in the details of the case for Lysander and Sarah.

  “Poor Zikir,” Sarah said.

  “I agree. Though he would have saved us much trouble if he had shared his suspicions from the beginning.” Darius stretched. “I hope this inn has sufficient rooms to accommodate all of us. After five months of chasing Pyrus, I am going to sleep well tonight.”

  Sarah was caught in the unrelenting grip of a nightmare. Since the miscarriage, they plagued her often, coming with the fierce darkness of a storm and lingering until she woke up, shaking. She never remembered the substance of them. The horror clung to her for long moments after waking, however.

  She came to consciousness on a jarring gasp. The room was pitch black. She could feel arms around her. She fought them, filled with terror that some monster from her nightmare world had come to life.

  “Stop fighting.” Still groggy, Sarah did not recognize the voice. She continued to struggle, gasping, trying to get free.

  “It’s me, Sarah. Be calm now. Nothing is going to hurt you.”

  “Darius!” Sarah went still. How had he ended up here, she wondered. His room was next door. Had she made a great disturbance? She found the thought embarrassing. “I ask pardon. Did I wake you?”

  “I wasn’t asleep, and the walls are thin. I heard you cry out. You were having a nightmare.”

  She sat up and leaned against a pillow. “Just a bad dream. I have them sometimes. Since I lost the babe.” She sensed rather than saw him search for the lamp. She didn’t think she could face looking him in the eye right now. “Don’t light that! Please.”

  She felt his hand against her cheek, trailing down over her shoulder. “You’re shivering.”

  “It’s nothing. It will pass.”

  In the dark, he rooted around the bed and found the blankets she had shoved to the bottom in her restless struggles. He pulled them up and tucked them around her.

  “And you were looking forward to a good night’s sleep. I’m a troublesome wife, I fear. More bother than I am worth.” The dark was loosening her tongue. It was as if she could speak more freely, knowing that he could not see her.

  “If you mean the nightmare, it’s of no consequence. You cannot help what you dream.” His body shifted, and she felt his hand find the rise in her abdomen. “I’ve missed this. All these months, wasted.”

  They said nothing for some time; just sat, linked by his hand and the indistinguishable heartbeat of their baby in her womb.

  “Do you know, there is a lot you have to learn about being a wife,” she said.

  He leaned back, removing his hand. “Is that so?”

  “Yes. I was always arrogant about the ease with which I learn. It’s been a crushing blow to my pride that in the most important area of my life, I’m a dim-witted learner.”

  “I might regret asking this.” She thought she heard the creeping edge of a smile in his voice. “What are we talking about?”

  “About me, of course. What else is there to talk about?”

  “You rarely speak about yourself.” His fingers played with the blanket. “Do you want to discuss why you did not tell me about your pregnancy? You’ve done that already. It’s of no use, Sarah. I cannot understand your reasoning.”

  She swallowed. “I don’t mean to offer excuses, my lord. I sinned against you and against God. But I do want you to understand where the root of that sin lies. What it is that makes me fight so hard to have my way sometimes.”

  “Say what you must.” His tone warned that it would not make a difference.

  She cleared her throat. “After my mother died when I was seven, I learned that I had to take care of myself. I don’t mean physically. Between my father and aunt Leah, I never went cold or hungry. I never suffered abuse. But there are other things that a little girl needs in order to thrive. Love. Companionship. The knowledge that she is wanted and valued.” She bunched the blanket in her fist. Its rough surface scratched her skin, and she forced herself to loosen her hold.

  “I didn’t have these things. If I wanted my father’s company, I learned I had to devise a way to make that happen. I had to take charge of my life in order to receive a little of the care I longed for. Those years taught me to trust no one but myself. I was the one to take care of me. No one else could do that.

  “And that’s the kind of wife I’ve been to you. Unable to submit my life into your keeping. I took things into my own hands because I believed only I could provide for my well-being. You didn’t deserve that, Darius. You are an excellent husband; you deserve my trust.”

  Darius shifted his weight away from her. “On that, at least, we can agree.”

  Sarah forced herself to go on. “I should have known that the most important thing was to surrender myself into your keeping. Even if it didn’t feel like a safe option, I should have done it. I should have told you about the baby in spite of my fear that you would leave me behind, that I would have to go through this pregnancy and birth without you. Instead, I convinced myself that I knew what was best for me.

  “You know the irony? All those things I was afraid might happen if I told you about my pregnancy happened anyway. I would have been much better off if I had done the right thing from the start.”

  Darius moved on the bed so that they were sitting side by side instead of facing each other, their legs stretched out, not touching. “So what are you saying? That because of your childhood, my marriage is forever going to be a bed of unrest and upheaval? Am I to helplessly await the next poisoned serpent that’s going to raise its head and bite me when I least expect it?”

  Sarah gave a choked moan. “I hope not. I don’t know how many more times I can bear looking into the cracks in my character. The first time I betrayed you, it was at the wedding. We hadn’t met yet. But I was so caught up in my own misery that I spared no thought for you and caused you awful distress because of it. What I learned then was the depth of my selfishness. I realized just how capable I was of considering my own needs above everyone else’s.

  “This time, I’ve learned that my life is not mine, anymore. It’s yours.”

  “You want to be that kind of wife to me?” Darius’s voice had grown husky.

  “I do.” She didn’t tell him that she had another motive for wanting so badly to become a better wife. During these past weeks of separation, the Lord had shown her that she could not expect Darius not to make mistakes. Not to hurt her, even unintentionally. After all, he was only a man. But surrendering her life into his keeping meant that she trusted God to work out the details. She trusted the Lord of heaven and earth to cover her husband’s insufficiencies, and provide for her needs in the midst of them. She trusted God to be her provider. Not Sarah. Not Darius. God.

  She did not voice these thoughts, assuming that Darius would resent the mention of the Lord. She remained silent, praying that the Lord Himself would one day give her a marriage where she could share such considerations openly, without raising the ire of her husband.

  In the darkness they both moved at the same time, and by accident their limbs touched. Sarah heard the sharp intake of Darius’s breath. She was about to pull back and apologize for the unintended contact, when he drew her close to him. He held her clasped against the length of him for a moment and then kissed her, his touch searching at first, as if he was trying to know her again.

  “Sarah.” His breath was hot against the curve of her neck before he slanted his mouth over hers once more. Her heart was racing so fast, she thought they must be able to hear its beat next door. He hadn’t touched her like this since Susa.

  Sarah found herself getting lost in his touch. It had been so long! So—

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nbsp; With an abrupt move he pulled away. She could hear his breath coming fast and harsh, as if his lungs couldn’t hold enough air. “I should leave,” he said. He was off the bed and out of her chamber with such explosive speed that a flimsier door would have fallen off its hinges.

  The return trip to Jerusalem took an eternity. Sarah knew that they had set the pace in order to accommodate her. They had also attempted to make the cart as comfortable as possible, placing thick mattresses on the floor and a removable canvas covering to ward off the elements. In spite of their care, she felt every bump in her lower back, like a sharp stab. She had to make frequent stops, be they convenient or not, and the jostling of the cart did not help. Her pregnancy affected her body more with every passing day.

  She welcomed every hardship for the sake of her child. But she could not help wishing she were less awkward. To her surprise, Darius, who thrived on speed and normally would have chafed under the turtle pace of their convoy, displayed good cheer, even when she made him stop seven times in one day in order to answer the call of nature. She caught him laughing at her once, when she came back red-faced and grumpy from behind a thin bush. Although he didn’t seek to touch her again the way he had at the inn, he had fostered a fragile truce between them since that night.

  To Sarah’s surprise, Roxanna and Lysander remained at each other’s throats every step of the way. The Persian girl had a knack for saying the wrong thing on purpose. Once, Lysander snarled, “I have whips softer than your tongue! Rein in your mouth, or I’ll do it for you.” Which was the closest Sarah had seen the Greek come to losing his temper.

  Darius had had to step in. “Why are you so foul-tempered with her?”

  “Why are you neglecting your wife?” was Lysander’s retort.

  Sarah’s eyes grew round with shock. Darius’s features became shuttered. “Shut up, both of you, or I will bind up your mouths with linen.”

  Roxanna began a new jibe. “Dirty linen!” Darius shouted, throwing both of them a hot glare that would have melted iron. Nobody spoke for a long time after that.

  “Why do you think they hate each other so much?” Sarah asked Darius one night when the others were out of earshot.

  “They don’t hate each other. They like each other. That’s their problem.”

  “They have a strange way of showing it. I’ve never seen two people so thorny around each other.”

  “I hope I can survive their constant bickering. They annoy the life out of my bones. I wish they would get together and be done.”

  “Get together? Might as well make Athens and Persia best friends. It’s hopeless, Darius. I can’t imagine what makes you think they’re attracted to each other.”

  The third day of their travel dawned sweltering even before the sun rose all the way in the sky. By noon, everyone was panting from the heat.

  Lysander looked into the bright heavens and said, “I wish Apollo would not insist on showing off. It’s hot enough to burn the feathers off a wet duck’s back.”

  “Apollo!” Roxanna said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “How can you believe in such a mercurial pantheon of gods? They are worse than you. Moody, vindictive, unreliable.”

  Lysander swatted at a group of flies that had gathered on his horse’s neck. “It’s not my fault you Persians are so stingy that you can only believe in two gods. One, Ahura Mazda, all good, and the other, Ahriman, all bad. How is a man to worship when his choices are so limited?

  “As to you Jews,” he nodded his head in Sarah’s direction, “You are even worse. One God. What is a man to do if he gets on the wrong side of Him? You can’t run into the embrace of a more sympathetic god. You can’t receive help from a rival divinity. You’re stuck.”

  Sarah laughed. “The Lord is merciful. He knows our weakness. I find that one God, if He is the right One, is more than sufficient for my soul.”

  Darius guided his horse near Lysander. “You might as well give up. You’ll never convince a Jew that your gods have anything of value to offer. She considers them idols. My mother was Jewish. She would have preferred to be beheaded than to give up on her Lord. They are acutely attached to their God.”

  Sarah stretched her feet in the cart. “You do realize, my lord, that since the time of the Jewish exile, our leaders have decreed that any man born of a Jewish mother is himself a Jew?”

  “How convenient for your leaders. A little pronouncement and one’s nationality is supposed to suddenly turn on its head.”

  They came upon Jerusalem one late afternoon, with the sun low behind an outcropping of brown hills to their west. Sarah sucked in an astounded breath when she had her first glimpse. “The walls!”

  “They must be halfway up, my lady,” Pari said, her voice high with awe.

  Lysander’s horse was prancing next to the cart. “That cousin of yours has achieved the impossible. I did not think anyone could pull off his grand scheme. And yet, here we are, fewer than thirty days since he started, and look at the state of that wall. It’s a marvel.”

  “Do you call this a marvel in Sparta?” Roxanna asked. “They are just walls. And not very pretty ones at that.”

  Sarah rose on her knees to have a better view. “You don’t understand, Roxanna. When we first arrived—do you remember, Lysander? Jerusalem had been in the grip of such apathy that they couldn’t even clean up the mess gathering around their ears. Now they have built a wall that spans the whole city. It may not be a work of art. Nonetheless, it will serve the purpose of bringing safety to Jerusalem. And they accomplished this without slaves, without an army, with only the people of Judah volunteering their time. In less than thirty days, these people who once had no unity have come together and rebuilt their city.”

  Nehemiah himself came to welcome them. Sarah noticed that his face was drawn and new lines had etched across his brow. She wondered when he had last enjoyed a good night’s sleep.

  “Cousin Nehemiah, how did you manage to raise the walls so high in such a short time?”

  He gave her a warm smile. “The people work from first light until the stars come out. You look well, my dear. I take it the physician had good news for you?”

  “Yes. All is well, thank the Lord.”

  “My heart rejoices to hear it. You have been in my prayers daily. Lord Darius, it’s good to have you back. Did you conclude your business in Damascus to your satisfaction?”

  “I did. We plan to stay here until after Sarah has delivered the babe.”

  Nehemiah nodded. “You are most welcome. Now I am certain you are anxious to refresh yourselves after your journey. Sarah will show you to your lodgings. It’s an old house and not comfortable, I fear. With the wall under construction, we don’t have the time or the men to spare for another building project. The new residence for the governor must wait.

  “We serve dinner in an hour. Please join us as my guests.”

  “I wished we could provide for our own meals,” Sarah said when Nehemiah left. “I always feel guilty when I eat at Nehemiah’s table.”

  Darius drew in his brows. “Why? As governor, he is entitled to a food allowance from the people of Judah.”

  “Entitled, he may be. But he refuses to accept it. He became aware when we first arrived that, due to recent famines and general poverty, the people had little to live on. In order to avoid being an added burden to them, he chose to waive the food allowance that was due to him and his officials. Previous governors had always insisted on receiving their share, laying heavy burdens on the people with their demands.

  “Nehemiah has changed that practice. Instead, he uses his own savings and his regular salary in order to provide food for one hundred and fifty Jewish officials, as well as the visitors he often entertains from the surrounding nations.”

  “He is paying for this out of his own pocket?”

  “Yes, and let me tell you, my lord, it is not a cheap undertaking. I used to keep his records before I came to Damascus. He pays for one ox, six sheep or goats, and a large number of poultry
every day. And the wine! His guests seem to have a hole in their bellies, for they drink with the thirst of fish and he has to lay out large supplies of different wines every ten days.”

  Darius shook his head. “I’ve never heard of anyone giving up legal income.”

  “I asked him once why he did not charge the people the fee they owed him as governor.

  “‘Because I fear God!’ he said. ‘Do they not already carry a heavy burden? Have I not seen with my own eyes that they are poor and struggling to put bread on the table for their families as it is? Should I add to their hardship by virtue of the fact that I have the law on my side?’”

  “He’s an unusual man. Well, tonight we’ll be his guests. But starting tomorrow, I will provide the rations for our company out of my own pocket.” Sarah noticed that Darius became thoughtful after this exchange. He had never had the opportunity to come to know Nehemiah on intimate terms. Because he avoided her cousin when possible, he had had little discourse with him. Nehemiah remained a stranger, one he did not trust. Sarah hoped that seeing him at work in Jerusalem would help Darius come to understand the man, and grow to like and respect him.

  Nehemiah was on a first-name basis with most of the workers and even knew their servants and wives. He carried dried nuts and dates for their children in his pockets and took their babies in his arms while he chatted with them as he inspected the wall. Not a day went by that Nehemiah did not visit some portion of the construction site.

  Gone were his silk robes and golden jewels. Gone were his heeled shoes and curled hair. He was one of the people. The requirements of the Persian court already seemed far away and insignificant.

  While making his regular circuit, Nehemiah breathed in the smell of dust, old stones, and fresh mortar. Construction smells. Against all reason, he had come to love them—he, who was accustomed to the scents, of rose water, spring blossoms, and the spices of Arabia.

  He came upon the Broad Wall where Uzziel the goldsmith and Hananiah, a manufacturer of perfumes, had charge of the repairs. This was by far the widest section of the wall around Jerusalem. The original had been built in the days of King Hezekiah. Its repair presented many difficulties due to its extra width.