The rest of the priests followed, hundreds and hundreds of them, taking their places between the Levite singers and musicians lining the Temple stairs. Though Nathan had witnessed the grand spectacle annually, from boyhood on, it never lost its luster. But today it brought no joy.
He prayed for peace of mind as High Priest Hycranus donned the sacred vestments, and as the bull and goats were sacrificed, and as the blood was sprinkled on the altar, but his conscience continued to accuse. Soon the moment everyone had been waiting for arrived. Like the trumpets of a thousand angels, loud song reverberated through the courtyard. “YAHWEH!” The Shem ha-Meforash—the excellent name of God—spoken out loud only once a year. It was what made Yom Kippur the highest of the holy days.
Nathan fell on his knees and pressed his face against the cold paving stones. “Praise be the glorious name of his kingdom forever and ever,” he yelled, joining his voice with the people of God, longing to feel at one with his brethren.
Herod shouted louder than anyone. Did Herod feel the same crushing guilt Nathan did? Ten years ago, allied with the Romans and Mark Antony, they had fought their way into Jerusalem and retaken the city. Jews had killed Jews.
And now Nathan had committed himself to hunting down his friends and neighbors. He would go out of his way to keep from lifting a sword against them. But what if it couldn’t be avoided? What if he had to spill blood?
The congregation stood. Nathan felt a divide opening between him and the people of God, and his insides knotted.
High Priest Hycranus took burning coals from the altar, put them in the golden censer, took up two handfuls of incense, and went behind the veil woven with blue, purple, and scarlet thread. Smoke rose and curled heavenward.
Nathan inhaled the balsam and cinnamon, the smell of God’s forgiveness and mercy. It offered no comfort.
John Hycranus reappeared, and the Levite musicians and singers burst into song. Hycranus took off the gem-encrusted breastplate and hurried away from the Holy of Holies.
Herod laughed and shook his woolly head. “Some high priest he makes. Look at him. He is scared half to death.”
“You are one to criticize,” Nathan chided. “You put him in office.”
“With your help.”
“Yes, but I feel only shame for it now.” Collecting a number of curious stares from the departing crowd, Nathan lowered his voice, “We shed blood to make Hycranus High Priest.”
Herod patted Nathan on the shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, olive farmer. There was plenty of blame to go around.”
“I’m glad to see you’re in a generous mood. I have a favor to ask.”
Herod pretended to fall backward. “You...accept my help?” He put his hand to his heart. “I never thought to see the day.”
The corners of Nathan’s mouth twitched. “Stop, you overgrown barbarian.” He glanced toward the Women’s Court. “I want you to help me track down the men who attacked the Onias family.”
Who knew? If Nathan rescued Lydia, he might get the opportunity to speak to Alexandra again. A fellow could always hope.
***
Alexandra made her way to the arched opening leading out of the Women’s Court. The pleasing girl who had befriended her chatted away at her side. People continued to point and stare. Alexandra ignored them. What was a little embarrassment? Compared to what her sister must be suffering it was nothing. She focused on the young girl’s pink-cheeked face. “Bless you for being so kind.”
The girl’s smile widened. “Will you be joining the maiden’s dance in the vineyard?” This was the night all the unmarried girls got to dance under the stars, hoping to catch the eye of the young men who came to watch. Many marriages would be arranged before the evening ended.
Alexandra shook her head and bit her lip. She was supposed to dance tonight and make her engagement to Philip Peter official. But not now. Her intended husband had run out of his sandals in his haste to distance himself from her disgrace.
Alexandra sighed. “What’s your name, dear?”
The girl’s eyes shimmered. “Mary. I’m Mary and, oh, you have to come. It will be such fun.” She skipped a step or two, then twirled in a small circle and clutched her hands to her chest. “I have been waiting all my life to join the dancing. Father says no, but,” she nodded towards the Men’s Court “Nathan has promised to speak to Father.”
Alexandra’s gaze shifted. Nathan of Rumah’s dark brown eyes met hers. The sun emerged from behind a cloud and shone bright on waves of his black, glossy curls. The east wind rose. The dry desert air blew warm on her face and ruffled through his chin-length hair.
A strange sensation curled through her.
Mary shook her arm. “Here come my mother and aunts and cousins.”
Alexandra forced her eyes away from the farmer. A small group of women moved toward them, smiling and waving. Wives and daughters of farmers or laborers, they had sun-browned faces and red-chapped hands.
A tall, straight-backed woman stepped forward. “Come along, Mary, the feast is waiting to be prepared.” She looked too young to be Nathan’s mother. She must be his stepmother.
Mary waved back. “I’m coming. I just need to say goodbye.” The girl fluttered in place like a butterfly about to take flight. “Convince your father to bring you to the maiden’s dance, and you and I can dance together.”
“I will do my best, but please don’t be disappointed if I’m not there,” Alexandra cautioned. For the first time since the attack, she smiled. “But, I hope you get to dance. And, I hope it is even more wonderful than your dreams.”
Mary touched Alexandra’s sleeve. The light in her eyes dimmed. “I pray you get your sister back soon.”
A painful lump lodged in Alexandra’s throat. “Tell your brother I said thank you for all his kindnesses.”
“Nathan feels guilty about what happened.”
Alexandra blinked. That made no sense.
“Mary,” the girl’s mother called.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve got to go. Goodbye,” Mary said, and then she raced off.
Alexandra watched the sweet girl and the other women join a large group of men. Nathan was among them, with a young boy swinging on his arm. Nathan felt guilty? But why?
“Nathan of Rumah is an intriguing man, is he not?”
Alexandra jumped. “James, I...I...” She turned toward her brother. “Oh, look at you.” The sun had burned the scar running across his face. “I begged you to put ointment on before going out.” She reached up. James jerked away, fear shining in his eyes.
The horrid image returned—James’s blood dripping from the shining blade. Her stomach clenched and she pulled her hand back.
Her father arrived on his sedan chair. “Festival joy, Matthias,” he said to a passing friend. Turning back to them, he wagged his finger at James. “You will thank me someday for making you come to the Temple.” He nodded his head at the slaves carrying his chair. “Even though it’s meant letting these oxen haul me about like sack of wheat, it was worth it. Since the first time my father carried me on his shoulders to the Temple, until this day, I have never missed one of the required feasts.”
James’s face puckered. He turned his back on the familiar boast.
Alexandria swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and offered the customary response, “May it be so, Father, until you lie in the grave with your fathers.”
Her father’s shoulders sagged low. “Take me home,” he commanded the slaves.
Though she ought to follow, she stayed behind. “Father is a proud man.”
James blew out a harsh breath. “Then why isn’t he doing more to find Lydia? I begged Father to send me out with hired men to look for her. He laughed in my face.” Her brother wrinkled his nose at her look of amazement. “Do you think Nathan of Rumah would abandon his sister to bandits?”
She glanced between James and Nathan. They were both dressed in white, the similarity stopped there. A scholar, her brother was thin and pale, whe
reas the olive farmer, Nathan, was rugged and bronzed. Avoiding her brother’s question, she said, “Father paid the ransom.”
“Yes, and we have nothing to show for it. Father wants to continue to negotiate with the bandits. He told Nathan of Rumah to stop looking for Lydia.”
She rubbed her hands over her arms. What horrible things was Lydia suffering? She must be frightened half to death. “I don’t understand why Father won’t talk to Nathan.”
James frowned. “I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m going to go talk to the olive farmer myself.” He stalked off after Nathan.
Alexandra’s heart sped up. Hundreds of festival goers brushed past her. She should already be walking behind her father, but her feet refused to move. She watched James go. There was no telling what trouble her rash brother might get into if left on his own. She stared in the direction her father had gone. She wasn’t convinced he would do what was best for Lydia.
Alexandra took a deep breath and hurried to catch up with James. “Wait for me,” she called.
Her brother’s eyes widened. “You are full of surprises of late, Sister.”
She winced. “Father will be furious when he realizes we didn’t follow him home.”
James gave her a long look. “He’ll be twice as angry with you.”
A chill went through her. She walked faster. “All I care about is getting Lydia back. Nothing else matters."
CHAPTER 3
Leaving his family behind, Nathan threaded his way through the press of people returning to their campsites. Temporary tent cities ringed Jerusalem, filled with Jews who flocked to the holy city to observe Yom Kippur in obedience to the commands of God. Nathan’s family had pitched their tent in the same spot in the Kidron Valley for generations. He knew every rock along the steep, twisting path between Jerusalem and the Mount of Olives.
He hurried and caught up with Hezekiah. “Shalom, my friend. Did you speak to Judas? Is he going to return Lydia to her family?” Nathan liked Hezekiah and had been immensely relieved when he learned the competent, well-respected leader of the rebellion hadn’t had anything to do with the attack on the Onias family.
“Shalom, Nathan,” Hezekiah said. A barrel of a man, he sobered. “My cousin doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong.”
Nathan could only shake his head. Judas also claimed he was the Messiah, the one anointed of the Lord to usher in the promised kingdom. The man did have a way about him. Learned and engaging, Judas drew men in with his zealous speeches and his fiery hatred of Rome. Impatient to inflict harsher punishment on Roman sympathizers, Judas and his followers had broken away from the main body of rebels a month ago. Something Nathan would have known, if he allowed anyone to talk to him on the subject.
“Your cousin crossed the line,” Nathan said.
Hezekiah’s large chest heaved. “You’re right.”
“You saw the boy’s scar?”
The rebel leader’s face grew grim and he nodded.
Nathan looked his friend in the eye. “You know as well as I do that Judas needs to be stopped. Lead me to him or tell me where he’s hiding. I promise to take him to the proper authorities.”
Hezekiah’s frown deepened. “I can’t. Our leaders are unfit judges. They are adulterous, lovers of money who’ve gotten in bed with Rome.”
Nathan exhaled heavily. The favorite rhetoric of the zealots was hard to argue against. “I agree. The Sanhedrin is ripe with corruption. And Simeon Onias is probably the worst judge of the whole lot, but it doesn’t excuse what your cousin did.”
Hezekiah kicked a small rock out of his path. “I gave Judas a good scolding.”
“He needs to give the girl back to her family.”
The rebel leader winced. “Judas gave me a message for Simeon Onias, concerning his daughter.” He rubbed his forehead. “You’re not going to like what he has to say.”
Nathan looked back up at the city and squinted against the rays of the dying sun, and spotted Alexandra and James Onias coming toward him. His gut contracted. “It looks as though you are about to have the opportunity to speak to Simeon’s son and daughter.”
“Now? No, no, no.” Hezekiah waved as though warding off a charging animal. “Sarah will hang me by my toes if I’m late for dinner.” The gregarious man laughed and smoothed his neat beard. “Bring Simeon’s children to my tent later tonight. I will give them Judas’s message and we can work on finding a mutually satisfying solution for everyone.”
“I will present your offer to them and if they find it acceptable I will bring them to you.” Nathan missed the barrel-chested man’s company. “It’s been too long since we talked.”
Hezekiah patted Nathan’s shoulder. “Tell your father we missed him and hope to see him in the Men’s Court.”
Nathan smiled. “The trip from Galilee to Jerusalem exhausts him. I told him he should stay home. But you know my father. He loves coming to the Temple to worship with the Lord’s people.”
“Give him our wishes for a happy festival and seasons of joy to the family.”
Nathan returned the blessing, “Time of gladness to you and your family.”
Hezekiah waved goodbye and continued on his way. Nathan reversed direction. A moment later he came upon his brother and sister. Timothy cradled an arm full of rocks against his once-spotless tunic. Mary’s face was creased with disapproval.
Timothy gave him a toothy smile. “Where are you going?”
Nathan tousled the boy’s fine hair. “I am going to invite a pair of friendless souls to eat at our fire.” He didn’t know if James and Alexandra Onias would, or could, accept. They might observe the same strict dietary regime as their Pharisee father, but an invitation would be given.
Always up for an adventure, Timothy brightened. “Can I come too?”
“Mother won’t thank you for inviting more guests,” Mary said.
A fretful sort, his stepmother was easily frazzled, but she was also unfailingly hospitable.
“The two of you best hurry along and help your mother, then.”
“Nathannnnn,” they whined in unison.
He laughed. “The sooner dinner is over, the sooner you can join your friends.”
Timothy dumped his load of rocks on the side of the road and took off at a run. Mary held fast. She twisted her hands together. “All my friends will be dancing in the vineyard. You promised to ask Father.”
“Father is worried. He doesn’t want you to marry too young.”
His sister’s cheeks turned rosy-red. “I don’t want to make eyes at the young men. I just want to dance among the trees and the lights.” She sighed and hugged herself. “It’s so beautiful and dream-like, and, and perfect.”
Nathan hated the idea of his young sister growing up. “I’m sure Father will agree to it.”
Mary smiled wide and clapped. “I’m doubly glad, because I told Alexandra Onias I would dance beside her if she came to the maiden’s dance, and here she comes, now. Oh, I hope Alexandra and her brother are the ones you’re inviting to eat with us. She says she won’t be dancing. But you can help me to convince her otherwise.”
Nathan raised a brow. “The Onias girls have never joined the dancing before.”
“How would you know, Nathan?” his sister teased.
“Because...” he said through gritted teeth “...your mother takes it upon herself every year to point out any maiden making her first appearance in the vineyards.” It was a signal the girl was of marriageable age. Rhoda enjoyed the support of the entire family in her campaign to see him married. He pointed a warning finger. “No matchmaking tonight. Alexandra and her brother might take such teasing seriously and be offended.”
A smile lingered on Mary’s lips. “It’s usually bothersome to eat with religious guests. But Alexandra isn’t prudish or standoffish. And she has lovely gray eyes, don’t you think?”
Nathan watched Alexandra draw closer. “I hadn’t noticed.” He winced at the lie.
Mary surprised him with a hug. �
�Thank you, Nathan. Tonight is going to be wonderful. I just know it.”
He patted her back. “I won’t allow it to be anything but perfect, dear lamb.”
Mary wrinkled her nose at the endearment.
He turned her about and gave her a gentle push. “Go help your mother.”
She danced off humming.
Nathan took a deep breath and headed up the steep incline toward Alexandra and James Onias.
***
Alexandra’s heart was about to beat out of her chest. How many times had she’d stared out her bedroom window, watching people come and go from the Kidron Valley, wishing she could walk the winding road leading to the Mount of Olives. Now here she was, doing it.
It was dreamlike. Up above, Jerusalem was washed in gold, a shining beacon of safety. Down below, night crept after men, women, and children, threatening to overtake them before they reached the safety of their tents.
She spotted Nathan of Rumah coming toward them and edged closer to James. “Do you see him?”
James nodded.
Alexandra frowned. “How did he know we were following him?”
James waved. “He was a soldier. They notice everything.”
Many men had visited her father after the attack, regaling him with tales of Nathan’s days fighting in the Jewish army. It was easy to imagine. Tall and powerfully built, Nathan of Rumah moved with ease and grace. But he’d left soldiering and returned home to the family farm. How had he become a soldier? Why had he given it up?
Nathan drew nearer. She licked her lips. “James, how did an olive farmer from Galilee in the north end up friends with Herod from Idumea in the south?”
Her brother grinned. “You’ve been spying on Father? I didn’t know you were so sly.”
Her face heated. “I’m not, but I couldn’t stay in my room. I had to find out what I could about Lydia.”
“Father says Herod is a dog. Shall I mention it to Nathan?”
“James...”
Her brother laughed. “Shalom, good man,” James called out.
The hard angles of Nathan’s face dissolved into a breath-robbing smile. Alexandra’s insides contracted. She shouldn’t be staring. It wasn’t proper. But she couldn’t make herself look away.
The Warrior (The Herod Chronicles Book 1) Page 2
