The Barbarian (The Herod Chronicles Book 2)

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The Barbarian (The Herod Chronicles Book 2) Page 22

by Wanda Ann Thomas


  Herod picked up a clay pitcher and poured wine into the chipped mugs scattered across the table. "We'll need an army to take back Jerusalem."

  Joseph chugged back his wine, and dragged the back of his hand across his mouth. "An army?"

  Kadar, who always believed Joseph was too rash for his own good, watched Herod mull over the problem. Everyone thought Phasael was the level-headed one of the brood, but Herod had a keener mind.

  Herod tapped his fingers against his mug. "Nabatea owes us favor and money. I'll have to go to Petra and pay King Malichus a visit, and convince him to help us."

  "I dare Malichus to say no to me," Joseph said lifting his mug to his mouth.

  Herod stayed Joseph's hand. "I want you to escort Mother and our supporters to Masada and guard them until I return."

  "Maybe we should go live in Petra," Pheroras suggested. "We would be safe there."

  Herod and Joseph ignored their next-to-youngest brother.

  "The first thing you need to do is send the bulk of your followers home," Joseph said.

  Herod nodded. "I'll give the needy ones what money I can." He pointed at Kadar and Obodas. "You two will go to Petra with me."

  Kadar wasn't going anywhere, but he let the point slide, preferring to argue the matter in private.

  The meeting ended a short time later. Kadar went straight to his horse, and relieved the stable boy of the feedbag. The enormous brown steed, named Valiant, bobbed his head and whinnied. Kadar stroked the horse's smooth, sleek neck, and held the bag under the animal's flaring nostrils. The bold name suited his spirited steed. Kadar regretted having to give him up, but Masada's steep, narrow ascent must be made on foot.

  Avda Hama's wagon was parked a short distance away. Lydia sat with Hama's boys, gesturing spiritedly, telling them a story by the look of it. Festive music filled the air thanks to a band of Levite musicians. Wine, food, and good cheer flowed freely through the temporary camp.

  Spotting Herod striding toward him, Kadar put the feedbag down and prepared to set the mule-headed man straight.

  Herod smiled wide. "What are doing over here by yourself?"

  "Obodas stopped at the latrine. Once he returns, we'll set the night watch."

  "Make sure to get some sleep. We will leave for Petra at first light."

  Kadar widened his stance. "I'm not going."

  "Damnation!" Herod blew out an exasperated breath. "I was sure you'd kick up."

  "I'll go to Masada and help Joseph guard your family."

  Herod swiped a dismissive hand. "Two hundred men are more than enough to guard Masada. There's a single, narrow path to the top. Those trying to assault the summit have to approach single file. Joseph and his archers will cut them down like a scythe felling rye...if Hasmond is foolish enough to attempt it."

  Kadar scratched Valiant behind the ears and feigned boredom. "I won't be any help to you in Petra, either."

  Herod's black eyes flashed. "When I return to Masada, I will do so at the head of an army. I want you there leading one of the flanks. Obodas will lead the other.

  Not too long ago Kadar would have jumped at Herod's offer, but his loyalties lay elsewhere now. "I promised Lydia Onias I'd guard and protect her."

  "I swear you're blind as a lovesick pup."

  "Stop the foolish talk."

  A malicious grin spread across Herod's face. "You know what I think? I think you need Lydia Onias more than she needs you."

  "Leave it alone," Kadar warned.

  "Lydia will be perfectly safe with Avda Hama at Masada. It is the prospect of Simeon Onias ruling alongside Hasmond which poses the true danger to her. Tell me I'm wrong."

  Kadar wanted to drive Herod's smirk down his throat. "Damnation. I need a good night's sleep."

  "Bed the Onias girl. It should take care of what ails you."

  Annoyed by the truth, Kadar replied through gritted teeth. "That mouth of yours is going to get you killed."

  Herod smiled. "We leave at sunup. Don't be late."

  Kadar wanted to protest, but Herod was already halfway to Mariamne's wagon. Kadar draped his arms around Valiant's neck. "I don't need Lydia Onias." The accusation was pure dung. Everything Kadar had done was for Lydia. Going to Egypt when she wrote to ask for his help. Sneaking her out of her cousin's house so she could visit little James. Arranging for her to marry Hama. Helping her to escape from Jerusalem. All for her.

  Valiant sniffed at Kadar's tunic. Kadar exhaled heavily. "Do I look like a lovesick fool?"

  The warhorse shook his withers and swished his long tail.

  "Traitor," he said without heat. He dug a chunk of honeycomb out of the leather pouch tied to his belt and held the treat out on the flat of his hand. Valiant's soft muzzle brushed over his palm.

  A reexamination of the recent past proved uncomfortable. When the diversionary force had caught up with the caravan after escaping from Jerusalem, Kadar could have gone around Lydia when he'd seen her smiling and watching him. Instead he headed straight to her, and by doing so created trouble between her and Hama. Afterward he'd vowed to stay away, but following the bloody battle with Hasmond, he'd immediately sought Lydia out, then made matters worse by threatening Hama.

  "Kadar?" a soft, urgent voice queried.

  He twisted around.

  Lydia moved toward him, her long, willowy body outlined in the orange of the setting sun, her large brown eyes gazing at him intently. His heart sped up.

  Lydia stopped beside him, too close for comfort. She patted Valiant. The steed nickered and flicked his ears. "We must talk." she said.

  Kadar spotted Obodas marching toward him. The brawny man halted a short distance away.

  "Can you give me a few moments?" Kadar asked him.

  The career soldier scanned the darkening sky and gave a curt nod.

  Not sure what to make of Lydia's visit, Kadar took a small step back. "Did you come to say goodbye?"

  "No, I want to talk about us."

  "Us?"

  Obodas grinned knowingly, probably thinking along the same lines as Herod. How many others were calling Kadar a lovesick pup? His lack of restraint was jeopardizing Lydia's future. This had to end.

  Kadar crossed his arms. "Go back to Hama, woman."

  Valiant bumped Lydia with his head. Unfazed by the size and strength of the warhorse, she patted the steed's long nose. "I can't."

  Kadar tensed. He glanced about the makeshift camp, searching for Hama, and saw the physician tending to a sick child. "What happened? Did Hama send you away?"

  "No, not yet."

  "But you're afraid he will?"

  She moved closer to him. "I can't marry Avda. I love you, and I want to be your woman, and I won't take no for an answer."

  Stunned and exhilarated, he blinked. "You're talking foolish."

  "Foolish? Charging into the wilderness with Herod was foolish, but here we are, alive and well and free to do what we will."

  "What exactly are you saying?"

  "You and I can have a life together."

  "We've already been over this. I won't take you to live in an army camp. What about little James?"

  Her rose-tinged cheeks paled. "If Herod can't take back Jerusalem, I'll never see my precious boy again. You know it's true. But if he succeeds, he will reward those loyal to him. If you asked, Herod might give you command of a fortress in Galilee."

  Certain he'd soon move on to another country, to another army after ensuring Lydia was safe from her father's selfish schemes, he hadn't given any thought to the full implications of a victory by Herod. His chest tightened. "You're assuming too much. It could take months or years to drive out the Parthians. What will you do in the meantime? If Herod loses, or if I am killed, what then?"

  "Avda could be killed," she shot back. "What then?"

  Obodas was tapping his thigh impatiently, restless to be off. Hours of talking wouldn't be enough to discuss matters, much less resolve them. Kadar scrubbed his face. "Have you brought the matter up to Hama?"

/>   "No."

  "Why not?"

  Her chin rose. "You are avoiding my question."

  He smiled, loving the spit and fire in her eyes. "What did Hama say?"

  "You are plain mulish," she complained crossly, then her shoulders sagged. "I planned to tell him I don't want to marry him before I came to you, but he has been busy with his work."

  "Tell him?" Kadar laughed. "I don't think Hama would have any idea what to do with the likes of you." Kadar knew exactly what he'd do. Loins heating, he swallowed. "Stay with Hama until we see which way the war goes."

  "I don't love Avda. I love you."

  The end of his lonely, bleak existence stood before him. Joy and beauty and a future with meaning were his for the taking. Mightily tempted, he grabbed at the one sure weapon he had. "You can't marry a pagan."

  She grasped his hand. "My heart tells me otherwise."

  Aware of a multitude of watching eyes, Kadar pulled Lydia to the opposite side of Valiant. He backed her against the horse. "It can never be."

  "You love me. I know you do."

  "Love doesn't change the truth."

  "We are meant to be together."

  He wanted to kiss her breathless. "If I said I was going away and I was never coming back, you still wouldn't marry Hama, would you?"

  Solemn and serene and absolutely beautiful, she shook her head.

  "Obodas," Kadar called stepping around Valiant. "Tell Physician Hama I need a word with him."

  Obodas rolled his eyes, but obeyed.

  Kadar gave Lydia a stern look. "Herod and I could be gone for weeks or months. Promise me you will take time to ponder matters carefully. If your desires change, we—"

  Lydia beamed. "They won't." Her smile fell away. "Why did you send for Avda?"

  He ground his teeth at her use of Hama's given name. "I won't leave you the ugly task of breaking off with Hama. If he wants to be angry he can unleash his fury on me."

  Obodas and Hama made a wide circle around the steed's hind legs.

  Kadar turned and squared his shoulders.

  Hama trained his fierce gaze on Lydia. "You couldn't stay away from him, could you?"

  Lydia clasped her hands. "I couldn't. I'm sorry, I—"

  "Save your apologies for my sons," Hama snapped.

  Lydia fell back, and bumped up against Valiant. The steed snorted and pawed the ground. Kadar took Lydia's arm and led her over to Obodas. "Take her to Cypros." Kadar gave Lydia's hand a slight squeeze. "You'll be part of Herod's household now."

  Large brown eyes swimming with misery and guilt, Lydia glanced between him and Hama.

  "Leave us," Hama told her.

  "Let me deal with Physician Hama," Kadar urged.

  She ducked her head. "Don't be hard on Avda. He has every right to be angry."

  Obodas ushered Lydia away.

  Kadar turned and narrowed his eyes at Hama. "Treat her well while I'm away or..." Or what? He couldn't kill or maim the man. He was a father of two boys and the physician caring for Old John. And he liked Hama.

  "I'll continue to treat Lydia with the utmost respect." Hama snarled. "Worry about yourself. If you want to spare her hurt, you will marry her properly, but before you marry you ought to put away idol worship and turn to the Lord God of Israel."

  Kadar clamped his hand over the amulet beneath his tunic—the last connection to his father and his Northland home. "I wouldn't make a good Jew."

  "Why not?"

  "Look at me. People will laugh when a blue-eyed, blond-haired giant tells them he is a Jew."

  "You don't seem like a man who cares what others think. What really bothers you is the thought of circumcision."

  Kadar's buttocks and thighs clenched tight. "Thundering Thor, is there any way around getting clipped?"

  Hama's grin was malicious. "No."

  "You might get more converts to your faith, if you set that little gem aside."

  "You have to say one thing for our Law, it weeds out the committed from halfhearted."

  Kadar shifted in place. "Would calling myself a God-fearer be good enough?"

  Hama shook his head. "We welcome the company of strangers and foreigners who abstain from idol worship and revere the Lord God of Israel. But we don't allow our sons and daughters to marry so-called God-fearers. You either are a Jew or you're not. There's no halfway. To do right by Lydia, you must sacrifice your foreskin."

  The hidden amulet lay heavy on Kadar's chest. "I promise to give the matter serious thought."

  ***

  Lydia lay awake staring at the starry sky. Cypros had invited her to sleep in one of the rooms Herod rented from the villagers, but Lydia hated the idea of being cooped up with near strangers. She would have enough of that starting tomorrow, when she and the friends and followers of Herod imprisoned themselves atop the towering heights of Masada.

  She and a few girls from the harem had made their beds in a large wagon. Surrounded by soft snores, Lydia thought of Brynhild. She missed the sturdy woman's company, and her mothering. She hoped and prayed Bryn was healthy and content. Aunt Sarah wasn't cruel to her slaves, so Lydia had no fears in that respect. The problem was, Bryn was loyal to a fault, making it likely she would risk running away to return to Lydia. The thought of Bryn falling into trouble or coming into harm's way made Lydia sick.

  Her worry didn't stop there. She wondered over and over what Kadar and Avda had said to each other after sending her away. Neither of them had come to her afterward. She feared Avda would never speak to her again, and who could blame him? The worst was not knowing when she would see Kadar again. She longed to have his strong arms about her. She didn't regret confessing her love, but wished they'd had more time to discuss their future, especially concerning little James.

  A shadow blocked the starlight. Her breath stilled.

  "Lydia," Kadar whispered.

  "I'm awake."

  "Come with me, my valkyrie."

  His guttural voice wound through her. She swallowed and sat up. "Where are we going?"

  He reached over the side of the wagon and skimmed his knuckles along her jaw. "We didn't share a proper farewell."

  Skin tingling, she rose to her knees. Gentle, strong hands circled her waist, lifted her out of the wagon, and set her on her feet. Kadar took her hand and led her into the shadows of the tumbledown wall enclosing the village. Two large warhorses stood a short way off, overseen by a soldier who turned his back to them.

  Her heart ached with worry for Kadar. "Promise me you won't rush into danger."

  He pressed her body back against the warm stones. His husky laugh tickled her ear. "I'm not reckless, except when it comes to you."

  "I will hate myself if you are injured or—"

  He crushed his mouth to hers and pressed until she surrendered. She tasted of his lips and salty skin.

  He kissed his way down her neck and bared her shoulder. His hair cascaded over the sensitive slope of her collarbone, eliciting a loud moan from her. He captured her mouth and his tongue swept over hers.

  Need burned through her. She ran her hands down his wide back and over his firm buttocks, and pulled him closer. His fingers tangled in her hair, and they devoured each other's mouths.

  Kadar groaned, stepped back, and pinned her shoulders to the wall to keep her from following. His breaths were labored. "We better stop while we can."

  "It might be months or years before we can marry."

  He gave her a roguish smile. "Even though it's likely to kill me, I refuse to dishonor you. I want to do what's proper."

  She bit her bruised lip. "You're ruining my image of barbarians. I thought your people excelled at rape, robbery, and pillage." Teasing was the only way to avoid weeping.

  "We reserve that for our enemies. As for our friends..." he wagged his brows "...we kill them before they know we are there." His smile faded, and he released her shoulders and traced his finger along her jaw. "You must have a touch of the barbarian in you, my valkyrie, for you pierce me to the hear
t every time I lay eyes on you."

  A raw ache filled her throat. "What will happen if Herod isn't able to raise an army?"

  "No matter what, I will come for you, and take you where your father can do you no further harm."

  She would always be safe and well cared with Kadar. "We can go to the ends of the worlds, and it won't matter, as long as we are together. But, I couldn't—"

  "You couldn't leave little James behind," he finished for her. "We can snatch him away from the Zealot's family and take him with us, if you decide it’s best."

  "For little James? Why wouldn't it be?"

  Kadar exhaled heavily. "Being separated from everything familiar is difficult."

  She flinched. "Difficult?"

  The clopping of dozens of hooves put an end to the interlude.

  They embraced. "Forget I said anything," Kadar said in her ear.

  "But—"

  He kissed her, then led her from the shadows.

  The warm amber of dawn haloed the wives, children, loyal followers, and servants gathered in the middle of the village to heap blessings and farewells on Herod and his handpicked delegation. The hopes and welfare of the eight hundred exiles rested on the shoulders of fewer than fifty men.

  Herod mounted his white stallion. Lydia hugged her arms and watched Kadar ride off, his last words tumbling through her mind. She'd assumed, whatever the outcome of the present trouble, she'd enjoy a life that included both Kadar and James. What if Herod failed? What if she and Kadar were forced to flee abroad? What if the only way to be reunited with her son was to steal little James away from Judith? Could she do it? A shiver went through her. She prayed she never had to make such a gut-wrenching decision.

  CHAPTER 27

  Jerusalem - Later That Day

  At the knock, James lifted his stylus from his drawing of a resplendent palace.

  The crippled slave Saab poked his head into James's bedchamber. "You have a visitor."

  "Whoever it is, tell him I can't buy them favor with my father. Tell them to seek help elsewhere."

  One of the few people from Antipater's household to remain in Jerusalem, James had been given a room in the Hasmonean palace, affording him the dubious pleasure of watching Hasmond strut around like a rooster, crowing over his victory, while the populace waited for the main body of the Parthian army to arrive and occupy the city. If that wasn't bad enough, James had been besieged by a continuous flow of men begging for assistance or favors, assuming he had influence with his father, even though he kept rejecting his father's demands for reconciliation. Reunite? The heavens would roll up like a scroll first.

 

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