After the last of the rescue party reached safety, Kadar escorted the messenger to Herod.
"I have news about your brother and High Priest Hycranus," the tall man said.
Herod straightened. "Tell me."
The messenger frowned. "They've been arrested and put in chains."
Herod's calm dissolved. "Damnation, I knew it! I told them not to go."
Pheroras came from the direction of the palace. "What's wrong?"
"We need to go to Mother," Herod said his voice pained. "Phasael has been arrested."
The timid man shook his head. "It will have to wait. The Parthian commander is at the front gate. He's calling for a truce."
"Truce. Ha!" Herod smacked his fist into his palm. "They want me to surrender, and then they'll arrest me, too."
Feeling the walls of their small refuge closing in around him, Kadar flexed his shoulder. They were running out of time and options.
The light of the rising sun spilled into the enclosure. Herod dismissed the messenger and gave Kadar, James, and Pheroras a grave look. "I've made a decision. I plan to fight my way out of Jerusalem tonight."
Kadar's heart beat harder.
"You're going to leave Mother behind?" Pheroras asked, his eyes wide.
Herod squared his shoulders. "I'm taking the entire household."
James pointed toward the palace. "What about the young women we've been taking in?"
Herod nodded. "We will take them too."
"You're taking a big risk," Pheroras said.
"I'd make the same decision if I was in charge," James said, drawing a surprised look from the others.
James jerked up his chin. "Well, I would."
Herod's sharp eyes focused on Kadar. "You're being awfully quiet. What are your thoughts?"
Kadar liked Herod's boldness. "It's a risk, but doing nothing is just as risky. I say we go."
Herod's brows rose. "This isn't your fight."
A calm came over Kadar, similar to the peace that usually settled over him before a big battle. "James and I will be going for his sister." He turned to James. "Arrange the meeting with your father."
"I'll go write the note now," James said and hurried away.
Herod squeezed Kadar's shoulder. "Lydia Onias will be accorded all the protection and honor due a member of my family."
Invigorated, Kadar asked, "What do you need me to do in the meantime?"
Herod grinned. "Wagons. Bring me every wagon and beast you can lay your hands on."
CHAPTER 23
The cool of the evening gathering around them, Lydia and Elizabeth and Chloe sat in a close circle in the open-air atrium, each lost in her own thoughts.
Lydia poked her needle through the soft cloth of the pillow cover she'd begun to decorate upon her return to Jerusalem. The needle jabbed her finger, drawing blood. "Ow...I used to be good at stitch work, but lately my fingers go to war with each other every time I pick up a needle."
Elizabeth and Chloe didn't acknowledge her. Devastated to learn her husband had been unfaithful, Chloe had kept to the confines of this small walled garden from sunup to sundown for the past week, rarely eating or speaking.
Lydia sucked on her finger, annoyed with herself for trying to mend her cousins' aching hearts with trifling wit.
She blamed her jitters on her father. He had charged into her bedchamber an hour earlier and dragged her with him to Cousin Nehonya's house. Father had then directed Gabriel and Cousin Nehonya to the reception chamber and told Lydia and Elizabeth to go find something useful to do. What are you up to, Father?
Lydia tossed aside the cloth cover, walked to a small marble table, and poured wine into a carved stone goblet. She glanced about the garden, searching for a means of escape. A prisoner in her room since the day her father sent Brynhild away, this might be her only opportunity to escape before Father locked her away again. Bryn. My dear Bryn, I miss you.
The tang of the new wine slid down her throat and into her belly, but it did nothing to warm her. Where was Kadar? Was he whole and well? What danger was he risking for her sake? Questions, and more questions. She couldn't keep them from racing around her mind.
The doves roosting in the fruit tree shading the arched entryway took flight in a swirl of beating wings and high-pitched cooing.
Her heart swelled upon spotting the reason for the commotion. "James." She rushed to meet him. "James. How are you? You look stronger." The red scar wasn't as noticeable now he had more color.
"Listen closely, there's not much time." The cold determination in his voice belonged to a man.
Lydia tensed. "Time for what?"
"Herod plans to fight his way out of the city tonight. I am here to distract Father so you can escape with Kadar."
Her heart sped up. "Tonight? Now? With Kadar and Herod?"
James gently pressed his finger to her lips. "Shhh." She sensed a confidence in her brother that gladdened her heart. He took his finger away. "What Herod proposes to do is very dangerous. Kadar is coming for you, but you don't have to go."
"Tell me what to do." She trusted Kadar, and felt safer with him than she would with ten thousand angels by her side.
"Wait here. I'll keep Father busy until you are out of the city."
"How will you escape?"
His perpetually sad eyes clouded. "I'm staying."
"No! Please come."
"I failed you once, and you suffered terribly. I want to do this for you."
"You didn't fail me."
James's sad smile held a lifetime's worth of hurt and grief. "The old goat is waiting."
Her throat thickened. "Thank you for sacrificing yourself."
"I can't keep running from him."
She hugged him. "Will you reconcile with Father?"
James laughed. "Jupiter, no! Not even if he turns out to be the next Moses. I can't believe you have to ask."
"You called him Father."
"I did it out of deference to your delicate ears, Sister."
Just beginning to appreciate how clever and witty her brother was, she prayed these weren't the last words they ever shared. "Father cares only about himself."
James nodded, but she no longer had his full attention. He was watching Elizabeth walk to a table supplied with the bread and wine. Pretty cousin Elizabeth lifted the pitcher to her cup, then looked up. Her cheeks pinked, and she stared at James. And he stared back.
Leave it to James to take an interest in the last woman in the world he should be looking at. Heaven help them! Elizabeth had been their stepmother. Lydia poked her brother in the ribs. "Libi has enough problems without you adding to them."
"What problems?"
She poked him again. "Stay away from Libi."
Her brother kissed her cheek.
Surprised and pleased, she reached for him.
James backed away. "Take care, Sister," he said, and he turned and hurried inside.
She smiled and shook her head.
Elizabeth joined her. "What does your brother want? Why is he here?"
"He came for me, to help me."
"I always wished you had a brother as kind and good as Gabriel."
"James has a good heart. He just needs to learn to listen to it more often."
Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "James would never be warm and caring the way Gabriel is."
"There's still hope for him. If he can distance himself from my father's poisonous grasp, he might learn to be happy."
A clatter sounded overhead. Lydia looked up to see Kadar come sliding down the porch roof, and land next to them with a small thud. His eyes were bluer and his hair more golden than she remembered.
Lydia threw her arms around his neck and took comfort in his solid, wide chest.
His warm breath curled around her ear. "Are you sure you want to do this? We could be on the run for a long time."
She pushed closer to him. "As long as I'm with you, I won't mind."
His mouth moved over hers as soft as a whisper. "Brave
valkyrie that you are, I should have known you would agree without hesitation."
"I missed you," she said against his lips.
He cupped her head and kissed her long and deep. A tingling warmth spread through her.
Elizabeth made a loud, throat-clearing noise.
Lydia and Kadar broke apart.
Lydia gasped for breath. "I'm leaving with Kadar. Please don't tell father. I’m sure he will scream and stomp about, but—"
"Let him yell," Elizabeth said, and stood taller. "I will be deaf to it."
Chloe joined them. Frail and drawn, she appeared to have aged ten years. "The Lord go with you, dear Lydia." Chloe took hold of Lydia's hand and placed it in Kadar's. "I've followed a righteous path all my life. I thought I married an upright man. But this gentile is ten times more honorable than my husband. The Lord go with you both."
Lydia's eyes widened. Was Chloe encouraging her to listen to her heart instead of following the path expected of her?
Kadar shifted restlessly. "I promise to do all in my power to protect Lydia."
Unnerved, Lydia hugged Chloe and Elizabeth. "Thank you for taking me in. I'm sorry for the trouble I brought you."
Elizabeth sighed. "My father and your father are to blame, not you."
Kadar touched his hand to the small of Lydia's back. "We should go." She nodded and he directed her to the porch, and made a step with his hands.
She lifted her foot. Kadar boosted her onto the sun-warmed tiles, hauled himself up beside her, then guided her to a waiting ladder. Stars twinkled overhead. Lamplight winked behind lattice-shaded windows below. The campfires of the invading army sparked at the edges of Jerusalem.
Her breath caught. "Herod is deserting Jerusalem?"
Kadar helped her onto the ladder. "He has no choice. Even so, I'm not sure we'll be able to escape. I could be leading you into disaster."
She climbed down. "Don't try to talk me out of going with you."
"Are you sure you're not a Northwoman?"
She smiled. Safely back on the ground, Kadar led her down a narrow alley. The thick walls of the Temple Treasurer's lumbering home rose overhead. The jovial man wouldn't be laughing when he learned his prestigious post was being taken from him and given to Gabriel. They skirted a wagon full of clay tiles for the new roof John the Younger's fretful wife insisted they needed. Passing a moss-covered well dating back to the days of Solomon, she couldn't help but wonder if she was seeing this and other familiar sites for the last time.
Defying her father would have grave consequences. If Parthia and Father prevailed, she could never return to Jerusalem. She wouldn't be able to worship the Lord at his Temple. She might never see James, or Elizabeth, or Chloe, or Cousin Nehonya again. She wouldn't have to go to Parthia, but the results might be the same.
She pressed closer to Kadar. "Can he do it? Can Herod raise an army and defeat Hasmond and Parthia?"
The comforting weight of Kadar's arm slid around her and settled on her hips. "Herod believes it, and he's is the grittiest, most tenacious fighter I’ve ever encountered."
She slipped her hand into his. Their fingers intertwined. "But what if he fails? What will happen? Where will I go?"
He squeezed her hand. "Herod will win. And you will come back to Jerusalem."
"But—" Her voice cracked and hot tears stung her eyes. "But what if he doesn't?"
Kadar pulled her to a stop. His callused fingers stroked over her jaw. "It's not too late. You can go back."
She shook her head. James was subjecting himself to Father's vicious harangues so she could escape. "I won't allow myself to be used again by Father for his ugly purposes."
Kadar's lips brushed over her forehead. "Ah, my valkyrie, you have the heart of a warrior."
"I'm not brave. I'm terribly, terribly afraid."
"Of course you're afraid." His soft, guttural voice skidded down her spine. "I'm always afraid at the start of a battle."
"You?" All hard-bodied muscle, he dominated any room he entered. "I can't imagine you being afraid of anyone or anything."
His mouth trailed over her ear and down her neck. "I'm more afraid now than I've ever been in my life."
She dragged his face up to hers and kissed him with a fierceness she hadn’t known she possessed. Stepping back, she struggled to slow her breathing enough to speak, then said, "James warned me we would face grave danger."
Kadar's blue eyes glittered. "Helping Herod fight his way out of Jerusalem doesn't make me half as scared as the thought of walking out the end of this lane, where Avda Hama is waiting to take you into his care."
She squeezed her eyes shut. Avda. She hadn't given the physician a second thought during the last week. "You're afraid Avda won't be able to protect me?"
"No. I fear I won't have the courage to leave you with him."
"If only there was a way for us —"
Kadar's mouth covered hers, pressing and pressing, until she gave in. They tasted and touched one another till they were wild with it. Kadar broke off the kiss. She buried her face in his chest.
Breathing hard, he said. "You will marry among your people. You will marry Hama." He set her gently away from him, and strode ahead.
Her blood pounded through her veins and hammered loud in her ear. Avda was her destiny, not Kadar. So why couldn't she make her heart believe it?
CHAPTER 24
Kadar waited with a small cadre of soldiers in the shadows of the First Wall. A diversionary force, they planned to attack the main body of Hasmond's army, hoping to draw men away from the south end of Jerusalem. When the way was clear, Herod would escape out the Dung Gate, leading an eight-hundred-person-strong caravan to Idumea.
Still stinging from leaving Lydia with Hama, Kadar had the comfort of knowing a good man would watch over her. He had left her behind, ready to sacrifice his life to secure her future.
Obodas and Old John flanked Kadar. His body hummed with the familiar tension and anticipation he’d experienced before battles large and small. The Idumean soldiers backing him were every bit as able and hardened as his father's Northmen. He relished the solid weight of the sword gripped in one hand and the shield in the other.
Obodas slowly rose to his feet. A hundred men stood as one. Silent as death, dreadful as the dark, lethal as a speeding dart, they moved forward.
Hands cooperated to lift away the beam locking the gate. More hands eased the gate open. Obodas raised his sword above his head, slashed the blade down, and charged. A trilling ululation, the war cry of the Idumeans, rang in Kadar's ears, firing his warrior's blood. He threw back his head, loosed a mighty bellow, and raced forward.
The small patrol guarding the gate fell back, but the Idumeans chased the Parthians down. Kadar caught up with a meaty soldier. The man turned and raised his sword, Kadar swung with all his strength, cut the man down, and roared his satisfaction.
Enemy reinforcements arrived to join the battle, and Obodas called for his men to fall back. The Idumeans and Kadar retreated behind the First Wall to a waiting redoubt. Horses stood ready to help them make their escape as soon as the odds turned in favor of the enemy.
Kadar and Old John worked in tandem to hold the right flank. The grizzled man battled with a vengeance, his face full of fierce determination born of knowing failure meant the loss of his family, his tribe, and his land. Kadar had fought by his father's side to thwart the enemies of his people, and his blood sang today the way it had then. This fight was his fight. These men were his men. Come life or death, victory or defeat, they would meet their fate together.
***
The half moon dipped in and out of dark clouds hovering over the Hasmonean palace. Lydia sat in the back of Avda Hama's donkey cart, atop sacks of grain covered with blankets. A teeming mass of people, animals, and wagons surrounded them. A baby cried in the distance, a counterpoint to the soft lowing of oxen and urgent whispers filling the night. Avda's sons, four-year-old Benjamin and six-year-old Ori, huddled against her, though they hardly
knew her. The threat of imminent danger had formed an instant bond between them.
The crowd parted. Well-worn leather armor strapped to his muscled body, Herod strode forward leading his betrothed wife, Mariamne, and some of her close family members to a covered carriage ornamented with gold-painted carvings. A famed beauty, Mariamne's bright red lips and ivory-white skin accentuated her perfect cheekbones…and her utter terror.
Wearing bold confidence like a second skin, Herod whispered comforting words to his betrothed while he helped her settle onto a cushioned seat.
Avda appeared next, escorting Herod's mother, Cypros, and an entourage of young, frightened nieces.
Cypros halted beside the workmanlike wagon awaiting her. Her exotic eyes narrowed with disdain. "Where's my travel carriage?"
Avda glanced away and back. "Herod set aside the nicest wagon for you."
Cypros's chin firmed. "Mariamne is traveling like a queen, while I am stuck with a donkey cart?"
"This is a fine, sturdy wagon," Avda persisted.
Impressed with Avda's patience, Lydia wanted to shake some sense into Cypros. Their lives were in danger. What business did Antipater's widow have worrying about her status, about something as silly being shown up by her future daughter-in-law?
Herod shut the door to Mariamne's carriage and crossed to his mother. "Ima, what is wrong?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder repeatedly
"Do you expect us to sit on top each other? This wagon isn't half the size of my carriage."
"I have room in my cart, if one of your nieces would like to ride with me," Avda said.
Herod took his mother's hand. "Kadar was ready to retrieve your carriage, but we decided against it, lest it raise suspicions. I gave you the best wagon of the dozens Kadar managed to collect."
Lydia gazed about at the multitude of carts. Kadar was responsible for all this? And yet he'd made time to come after her. He believed he was just a simple soldier, but his capabilities went beyond swordsmanship and warfare.
Cypros's petulant frown deepened. "I don't like this business. Maybe we should try to make peace with Hasmond."
The Barbarian (The Herod Chronicles Book 2) Page 19
