Lydia sighed. "My grandfather would have also been my father-in-law, but he died when I was a young girl. My father is the head of the family."
Bryn grunted. "Simeon Onias is the most uncaring man I've ever met."
If Lydia had the strength, she'd smile. Her father would be outraged if he heard people he disdainfully referred to as "uncivilized barbarians" were criticizing him.
Bryn's hand rubbed over Lydia's back. "My fierce kitten did just fine on her own."
Lydia did smile then. "The Lord watched over us."
"I prayed to Freyja," Bryn said. "The gods were merciful, and Mistress Lydia guided us to safety, brave as could be."
Kadar's eyes showed approval.
Lydia swallowed. Brave? It was not how she recalled their flight. The smell of her own fear and the garbage-strewn streets and the press of sweat-soaked bodies had lingered in her nostrils for days after. "We walked fast and kept our heads down and reached shelter before night."
"Walked fast?" Kadar shook his head. "Kept your heads down? I want to murder your aunt."
"We were well taken care of," Lydia reassured him.
Matters had moved quickly after she and Bryn found a safe haven among Aunt Sarah’s distant relations. A second cousin booked passage for them on a small trading vessel. Another cousin accompanied her over sea and land to Jerusalem. They had arrived in the city a week earlier and had been taken in by Cousin Nehonya. Suddenly tired, Lydia leaned on Bryn.
Kadar nudged Bryn aside and guided Lydia to the stone bench. He knelt in front of her and said something to her in his native tongue. The rich, deep sound tingled down her spine.
Bryn gasped and chastised Kadar in the same guttural language.
His crystal blue eyes alight with amusement, he winked at Bryn and said something back.
The pear-shaped woman blushed and giggled.
Lydia blinked. Bryn didn't giggle.
Kadar grinned. "I think your slave might be sweet on me."
Bryn gave him a slight slap on the arm. "Mind yourself around Mistress Lydia."
Lydia gripped the stone bench lest she give into the urge to throw her arms around Kadar. "I'm so very glad you're alive," she said, her heart bursting with unfamiliar joy.
Desire darkened Kadar's eyes.
Her flesh warmed. "My sister and her husband still pitch their tent in the olive groves east of the city. I hope to spend time with them. If you were to visit when I am there, we could talk…" Was she actually inviting Kadar to meet with her? The thought of never seeing him again made it hard to swallow. "Am I asking too much?"
Loud knocking and shouts came from the front door. Kadar, Lydia and Bryn hurried to the entrance of the small alcove. Hand on the hilt of his sword, Kadar took up a protective stance. Lydia peered past his massive back and watched the doorman pull open the mansion's tall double doors. Four slaves crossed the threshold carrying a flimsy litter bearing an unconscious man covered with blood. A diagonal scar crossed the man's face.
James. Dear angels in heaven, what's happened?
***
His head almost scraping the low ceiling of the corridor outside James Onias's bedchamber, Kadar leaned against the bare block wall. Rooted in the same spot for the better part of the afternoon already, he refused to leave until he was sure of Lydia's brother's fate.
The bedchamber door opened yet again, and Antipater's personal physician, Avda Hama, stepped out into corridor.
Kadar pushed away from the wall. "Will he live?"
Distracted, Hama barely glanced at Kadar. "Only the Lord can say."
Kadar threw his arm out, blocking the physician's path. "Have you been able rouse him?"
Hama's bearded chin jerked up. An educated man in his early thirties, and surprisingly fit, the physician frowned. "The patient is still unconscious. Now step aside and allow me to go about my business."
Kadar widened his stance and rested his hand next to the hilt of his sword."What other damage did the fall do?"
Hama arched a brow. "What business is it of yours?"
Kadar's concern for James Onias's health was selfish. He needed the young man alive and well for Lydia's sake, so she would have a guardian after Kadar killed her father. He didn't need this arrogant man questioning him. "Just answer me."
"I will...if only to get you out of my way," Hama said in a clipped voice. "Most of the damage was minor. One arm suffered a nasty gash, and he has numerous bumps and bruises. The blow to the head was the worst. It's too soon to tell if the injury will prove fatal."
The bedchamber door opened again, and Brynhild and another slave hurried off on an errand. Lydia stepped into the hall behind them. "Kadar, you're still here?" She sounded pleased. "You didn't have to stay."
Resisting the urge to reach for her, Kadar dug his fingertips into his hips. "I thought you might need help. What can I do?"
"Hmmm...let me think." Her shoulders fell. "Sorry, my mind is a muddled mess. At this point there's not much any of us can do." She gave Avda Hama a weary smile. "I'm glad I caught you before you went too far."
"What else may I do for you?" Hama replied, far too attentive for Kadar's liking. He wanted to punch the damnable man.
Lydia glanced over at the bedchamber door. "I'd like to cleanse the blood from James, if you think it may be safely done."
Hama smiled. "Yes, absolutely. It would, in fact, be a great help. Your brother is blessed to have such a steady and caring sister."
Lydia pushed her hair away from her pretty, flushed face. "I am relieved James is under the care of a skilled physician."
Hama stepped closer to her. "I count it a pleasure to serve you and your brother."
Kadar ground his teeth and thumped Hama on the shoulder. "You are in for a busy afternoon. The household slaves are chattering about Cypros. Reportedly the grand woman has taken to her rooms with one of her crippling headaches."
Hama's smile disappeared. "I haven't heard word of it." Antipater affectionately called his wife a difficult woman. Cypros was a hateful shrew, and that was one of the kinder things to be said about her.
Kadar shrugged. "It's what I heard."
Hama combed fingers through his thick black beard. "I should go look in on her. I'll return as soon as possible with a balsam cure for your brother," he promised, then hurried off.
Lydia wrinkled her nose. "I hate to be selfish, but for James's sake, I hope Cypros doesn't take up too much of Physician Hama's time."
"He won't be gone long."
Lydia's soft laugh soothed like a caress. "How can you be so sure?"
"Cypros isn't ill. At least not to my knowledge."
"You lied?"
"It's not the cleverest tale I ever invented. But it served the purpose."
Lydia's brow furrowed. "What purpose?" The cool breeze wafting through the corridor pushed loose tendrils of hair across her face.
He touched his fingertips to the silky strands. "Never mind." He didn't want to confess his jealousy. "I will stay in Jerusalem until your brother's fate is determined."
Lydia swallowed. "You don't have to."
Yes, he did. "I want to."
"My sister and Nathan should arrive soon."
He brushed her hair back behind her ears. She trembled, and the vibration went straight through him."I'll give you into their care when they come. Until then—"
Brynhild came around the corner carrying a water pitcher and clean rags. He and Lydia stepped apart.
The slave woman nodded. "I'm glad to see a man such as you watching over my kitten."
A rosy blush spread across Lydia's almond-colored cheeks.
Kadar scrubbed his face. Safe as a lamb watched over by a wolf. Except this lamb was strongly attracted to the wolf. Lydia needed a reminder he was a barbarian. He shifted closer to Bryn and patted her pear-shaped buttocks. "Women from Gaul like to take scoundrels to their beds, isn't that so?"
Lydia flinched.
Stomach churning over her hurt look, he rubbed his whiskers
over the side of Brynhild's face.
The slave swatted him with the rags clutched in her hand.
Lydia whirled around, opened the bedchamber door, and disappeared.
He stepped away from the slave woman with an apologetic frown.
Brynhild scowled up at him. "You want her. Why are you pushing her away?"
"She deserves a better life than I can give her."
"What makes you think so?"
He exhaled heavily. Lydia deserved a real home and a stable life, not the perpetual nomadic existence stretching out before him.
Brynhild patted his arm, then re-entered James's room.
Kadar stood alone in the empty hallway for a long, long time.
CHAPTER 9
Later that day, after Physician Hama informed them James Onias might not wake for days or weeks, Kadar went looking for Antipater and caught the governor of Judea coming out of a private reception chamber followed by his loyal slave, Saad.
Kadar nodded in greeting. "Don't laugh in my face when you hear what I have to say."
Antipater flashed a wide smile but kept walking, and signaled Kadar to join him. "You aren't leaving Jerusalem, am I right?"
"There are matters requiring my attention. My business could take weeks or a handful of days. So—"
"You need work," Antipater guessed. "And a place to sleep."
Kadar nodded. "I'll do whatever needs doing for food and a bed."
"I will pay you a wage too. You can start right now."
"Now? Where are we going?"
"To see a man about taxes."
"Do you expect trouble?"
Antipater laughed. "Every hour of every day."
Saad limped past them, grimacing as he opened the front door.
Antipater halted beside the crippled slave. "Your knee is bothering you more than usual, I see."
"It's a bit stiff." Saad's smile was forced. "But the walk will loosen it up."
Antipater stroked his beard and studied his slave for a long moment. "I want you to stay behind. You—"
"I am aware I'm growing old." Saad struggled to stand erect. "But I'm not feeble."
Antipater patted the slave's arm. "No one said you were. I want you to get regular reports on James Onias's condition. Come find us if the boy takes a turn for the worse."
Mollified, the slave nodded and stepped back.
Kadar followed Antipater out the door and past the curious guards. "Who are we going to meet?"
"Malichus."
"How did that backstabber steal command of your army, anyway?"
"I gave up the post." Antipater smiled again, and a twinkle lit his eyes. "It seems the Governor of Judea can't be spared to fight the occasional war. High Priest Hycranus wanted his good friend Malichus to succeed me. I agreed against my better judgment, and have spent all my time since righting the fool's mistakes."
"Malichus struck me as a man too greedy for his own good."
"Malichus is ambitious to the point of recklessness. Then there's the little problem of him wanting me dead, so he can dispose of Hycranus and make himself king." Antipater led them into the stream of people moving along Jerusalem's main thoroughfare. Broad of chest and robust, he waved or smiled to everyone who acknowledged him.
"I'm surprised you tolerate him," Kadar said.
"I shouldn't." Antipater veered off the road and stopped in front of a jeweler's stall. Sunlight sparkled over polished gold baubles, bracelets, and rings. Antipater draped a diamond-studded headpiece over his bronzed arm. "Cypros is unhappy with me. A shiny new trinket might distract my dear wife, don’t you agree?"
The smiling merchant's head bobbed eagerly while he chirped a steady stream of encouragements.
Kadar's eye was drawn to a bright red scarf. The color would look stunning against Lydia's olive skin.
Antipater dangled the jeweled band in front of Kadar. "What do you think?"
Doubting anything would cure Cypros’s bad moods for long, Kadar shrugged.
Antipater sighed, handed the headpiece back to the disappointed merchant, and moved on. The crowds grew thicker as they neared the Temple of the God of Israel. The east wind increased, carrying the scent of roasted meat and rich spices. Antipater's chest expanded. "Ahhh, the aroma of heaven. I never grow tired of the smell of sacrifices. Makes me giddy as when I was a boy, excited at the prospect of our yearly trips to Jerusalem." He slapped Kadar's back companionably. "You ought to convert to Judaism. Marry a good Jewish girl."
Kadar coughed. "Me?"
Antipater laughed again. "Yes, you."
"I say this with all respect. I have lived among your people long enough to have learned you have a worthy God. But your God demands too much." Kadar clutched the amulet hanging from his neck. The Northland's gods were all he had left of his old life. "I would have to give up my gods to worship yours."
Antipater shielded his mouth with his hand. "For the world to see, yes. What you do behind the closed doors of your home is another matter." An Idumean who had married a pagan from Nabatea, Antipater was likely turning a blind eye to members of his household who secretly bowed down to idols.
Kadar made a face. If Lydia Onias was the prize, he might give the ruse serious consideration. But daughters of priests didn't marry ex-slaves with no rank, money or property. "You keep your God and I'll keep mine."
"You don't bend easily to others. A worthy trait."
Kadar raised a brow. "And?"
The Idumean's hearty laugh turned heads. "Aaannnd, Malichus is not aware of it yet, but you two are about to become well acquainted."
"Please tell me I get to punch the fiend if he becomes too obnoxious."
"A tempting offer I wish I could agree to." Antipater's smile fell away. "Malichus has been dragging his feet about collecting the taxes owed Rome. The people love him for it, meanwhile Rome is sending threats." Antipater wrinkled his nose. "The viper did something similar a few years ago, and Rome's reply was to sell four Judean cities into slavery. And, of course, the fractious Romans were occupied with another civil war, so it took me many months to rectify matters. The Roman official sent to investigate the debacle proposed executing Malichus. But I foolishly spared his life, again."
They left the road and walked up a stone path to a fairly large home. Antipater lifted his hand to knock at the door. "I plan to send you out with Malichus to collect the taxes. I don't want you to take no for an answer from anyone. What do you say?"
Kadar liked Antipater, and wanted to help him outmaneuver his enemies. "Malichus will learn to hate me."
"I'm counting on it, Barbarian. I'm counting on it."
***
Come nightfall, after making a point of staying away from James Onias's sickroom and Lydia Onias, Kadar accompanied Antipater to a hastily-arranged banquet hosted by High Priest John Hycranus.
Antipater came to an abrupt halt under the arched entryway to the luxurious hall. "John assured me this was a small, private affair." Heaving a sigh, the governor of Judea followed the slave assigned to escort him to the head table.
Kadar scanned the crowded hall, searching for Malichus. The crafty man had given an obviously-invented excuse when Kadar and Antipater pressed him to make the rounds collecting taxes. Kadar meant to set Malichus straight, make it clear that his time of wiggling out of his responsibilities was at an end.
Huffing and puffing, Saad limped up beside Kadar. "James Onias's condition hasn't changed. His sister has returned to her cousin's home and plans to return to care for him early tomorrow morning. She didn't want to leave, but Physician Hamas promised Onias's sister he would send for her if her brother worsened."
A loud clatter echoed through the chamber. All eyes turned to see shattered plates scattered across the mosaic-tiled floor. The young slave responsible for dropping the reed tray scooped it off the floor, and promptly lost hold of it, again. The boy's freckled face turned red as his hair.
Saab clapped his hands to his head. "Niv! What is the matter with the overgrown clo
d? He's turning out to be a fumbling ninny."
A one-eyed soldier wearing a patch stopped beside Niv and whispered in the boy's ear. The color drained from Niv's pudgy face. Kadar's muscles tensed when he recognized the soldier. Lazarz. The grizzled warrior noticed Kadar’s stare and smiled. Lazarz was Malichus's second-in-command, and the cocky, self-satisfied smirk on his face was the very one the arrogant man wore earlier when Antipater introduced Kadar to Malichus.
"I best go help the fool clean up the mess," Saab said stumping away.
Lazarz broke eye contact with Kadar and squeezed Niv's shoulder. The boy winced. The one-eyed man spoke into Niv's ear again. The red-headed boy nodded furiously and patted the bulging cloth pouch tied to his belt. Lazarz moved off and took a seat between Malichus and Avda Hama at the table reserved for household retainers and staff. A slave directed Kadar to the same table.
"Thundering Thor," Kadar grumbled. A pack of wild dogs would make better company than Malichus and Lazarz. Ignoring the pair, Kadar sat beside Hama. "I hear the good woman Cypros is recovered."
Hama's brows rose. "Indeed. I must be a miracle worker, for the good woman was cured before I entered her presence."
Kadar smiled and nodded his respect, glad to see the man didn't take himself too seriously. "Everyone says James Onias couldn't ask for a better healer. Antipater sang your praises."
The tension went out of Hama's shoulders. "James Onias's head wound is beyond my powers. I have done all I can. He is in the Lord's hands now." The physician turned to Lazarz. "I'm told you are the one who found James. Was he conscious when you came upon him?"
Lazarz lifted his rock-hewn mug, chugged back some wine, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and loosed a loud burp. "I shook him till his teeth clattered and slapped him hard across the face, but he never roused."
Hama's mouth hardened. "Your brutish actions may have hurt more than helped."
"The boy was half-dead before I laid a finger on him." Lazarz's smug smile made a reappearance. "I'll try to be more careful next time."
Kadar gripped his mug. Wishing it was Lazarz's neck he was wringing, he rescued Hama from the fiend. "How long have you served in Antipater's household?"
The Barbarian (The Herod Chronicles Book 2) Page 6
