Swords clashed again in the arena below. The air backed up in Alexandra’s throat watching Herod beat Nathan down with his sword. The crowd roared their approval. She gripped the edge of her seat. Nathan assured her the fighting was all in fun, but it looked deadly serious to her.
Herod’s very young and very foolish wife, Doris, leaned closer to Alexandra. “You don’t look well.”
“Someone is going to get hurt,” Alexandra said through gritted teeth.
Doris waved her hand at the suggestion. The thin gold coins dangling from her bracelet jingled, mimicking her tinkling voice. “It’s just rough play.”
Alexandra bit her tongue. Herod was a bully. That’s what he was. He was also without rival: outfighting, outracing, and outmatching every opponent he’d faced this week, including Nathan. They’d fought four times, with Herod pushing Nathan harder than he pushed anyone else. Nathan made light of the dark bruises lining his arms and legs, but the sight made her see red.
Herod smashed his sword down with extra force, and Nathan’s sword clattered to the ground. A quick flick of the wrist and Herod’s weapon slashed across Nathan’s thigh, leaving a light trail of blood.
Alexandra sprang to her feet. A surprised look crossed Nathan’s face. The bloodthirsty crowd jumped up and cheered wildly. The strike was no accident. Nathan was bleeding because Herod wanted it so. Everybody present knew it and yelled the louder for it.
Swaying where she stood, she pressed her fists to her mouth. The injury was superficial; even so, her head spun at the sight of the blood. Nathan had warned her of the arena’s brutality, warned her she’d be sickened by what she saw, warned her she’d be better off staying to her room. Excruciating as it was to watch, she couldn’t stay away.
Herod allowed Nathan to reclaim his sword. The ecstatic crowd cheered anew.
Alexandra wanted the fight done with. Now.
Doris slipped a bolstering arm under her elbow. “You, poor thing,” she cooed. “Herod’s surprised you’ve held up so well.”
“Me?” The tiresome girl couldn’t be serious. “I am no concern of Herod’s.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t call it concern, exactly.” Doris pressed as close as her ample bosom allowed and confided, “You’ve disappointed my husband.”
Engulfed by a cloying, cloud of perfume, Alexandra was tempted to plug her nose. “What are you talking about?”
“My husband is goading your husband, hoping to enrage him.”
Swords held at the ready, Herod and Nathan circled one another wearily. Alexandra shot a dirty look at Doris. “Why would he do that?”
“Nathan had quite a reputation as a soldier. They called him the angel of death. Herod thinks you...” Doris poked Alexandra’s arm for emphasis “...a sheltered, squeamish, priest’s daughter who will go scurrying home to your father once you get a glimpse of...” she giggled and pitched her voice low “...the angel of death.”
Herod said something and laughed. The color drained out of Nathan’s face. Alexandra’s heart began racing again.
Nathan feinted left, shifted his weight forward, and went on the attack. Red-faced with rage, he beat his sword against the other blade, forcing Herod to use his sword as a shield. Metal screeched over metal. Herod tripped and fell. Nathan pressed the point of his sword into Herod’s neck.
The crowd cheered wildly. Alexandra stood on her toes, straining to see them. Herod offered up his weapon.
A long, agonizing moment passed.
Alexandra gnawed her knuckles. Everything in her wanted to yell, Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!
Nathan eased his sword back. “Your bath? Or your life?”
A few nervous laughs went up from the spectators.
A slow smile crossed Herod’s face. “I’ll take my life. But, don’t think I wasn’t tempted to choose the bath. What with all the marble and gold.”
Alexandra sagged with relief. Praise heaven. Nathan wanted use of the governor’s private bath. He’d promised her he’d find a way to secure them some time alone there. She laughed. The fighting was just play, after all.
Nathan held a hand out. Herod grabbed hold and let Nathan help him to his feet. The spectators went wild. Alexandra cheered and applauded too, clapping until her hands hurt.
On his way out the arena, Nathan stopped and scanned the stands for her. Spotting her, he bowed theatrically.
Angels above! How could one feel vitally alive and scared unto death, all at the same time? She loved it. She hated it. It was much the same with her beautiful, warrior husband. He excited her and frightened her, this man known as the angel of death. She wasn’t afraid for her safety. Rather, she was afraid a man as vital and virile as he would tire of someone as silent and shy as she.
Doris divined her thought. “Herod used to look at me the same way, too. You wait. Your man will take a slave to bed. They all do sooner or later.”
Alexandra ignored the unhappy woman’s comments, hoping it would discourage her, but Doris went blithely on. As usual.
“Herod purchased his latest plaything from Sextus Caesar.” Doris sighed. “Does Nathan own a slave girl?”
Alexandra put her hand to her cheek as though she’d been slapped across the face. “Yes, a bondmaid.”
“Oh, they are even worse,” Doris assured her. “Girls sold as bond slaves always marry their masters. The girl’s father will insist. It probably says so in the contract.”
Alexandra didn’t know what the contract said because, foolish her, she’d assured Nathan the matter was his to settle. An image flashed through her mind of Nathan holding Sapphira in his strong arms. Alexandra’s stomach rolled. Nathan would never betray her so. Would he?
***
Floating in the water behind Nathan, Alexandra moved a soft sponge in slow circles over his broad shoulders.
“Ah...” Nathan’s voice echoed softly off the marbled walls of their private sanctuary. “There’s almost nothing I enjoy more than a good Roman bath.”
“My father’s pool can’t compare,” she agreed.
Flickering light cast by oil sconces skipped over the water, illuminating the mottled bruises on her husband’s arm. Beaten and battered as he was, he hadn’t once complained. She hugged him around the waist and pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder.
Nathan pulled her around to face him. His callused hands moved down her sides. “There’s a good reason the baths are different. We Israelites are concerned with ritual purity, so our pools tend to be utilitarian, whereas the Romans are concerned with pleasure and relaxation. They are so fond of them they’ve built opulent pools from here to Rome.”
She wrapped her legs around his hips. “It sounds as though you’ve visited plenty of Roman baths.”
Nathan nudged her toward deeper water. “I traveled far and wide with Antipater’s army. We never missed a chance to see chariot racing or visit the theaters and baths wherever we were.” His hands flexed against her waist. “Are you disgusted with me for indulging in worldly pleasures?”
She gave him a reassuring kiss. “No. I can’t find it in my heart to hate pagans because they did not have the good sense to be born among the Lord’s chosen people.”
He smiled. “We think alike on the subject.” He kissed her on the nose. “Tell me what is bothering you.”
She gritted her teeth, and asked the question eating at her. “When you visited those places did you ever bed with slave girls?”
The soft lapping of water filled the widening silence.
Sorrow darkened his brown eyes. “I did.” Displaying more vulnerability now than he had when facing the fiercest of opponents in the arena, he whispered the last of his words. “I don’t want to lie to you. Do you despise me?”
“It hurts.” The words burned in her throat. “What I hate is the idea that another woman has known you intimately as...” She pressed her lips to his mouth and dipped her tongue inside, then pulled back. “I wanted it to be special. Just between you and me.”
He touched his forehead to
hers. “I know. And I’m sorry and...I don’t know what else to say.”
“Many men take slaves to bed.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Even after they are married.”
Nathan jerked back. “I won’t.”
She made herself look at him. “Yes...but Abraham, Jacob, and David did. Herod and some of the others have.”
“I swear to you on Moses’ Law,” Nathan spoke each word slowly and vehemently. “I will not take another woman to my bed. You are worried about Sapphira?”
She nodded. Of course, she didn’t think of the bond slave as Sapphira. She thought of her as the poor, needy priest’s daughter who couldn’t wait to bear a child with the newly rich olive farmer. Rot her.
Nathan pulled away. His eyes couldn’t have looked sadder. “The girl’s family needs the money. As soon as Sapphira is of age I will find a husband for her. Or I can send her away now.”
Alexandra wasn’t hateful enough to want to force the family to go begging, but she was selfish enough to resent the thought of sheltering a girl who might grow to rival her for Nathan’s affections. Life had been far simpler when she’d been given no choice in matters. She felt naked and exposed, and it didn’t have to do with the pool water barely covering her breasts. “Sapphira can stay,” she said, then added, “I’m usually quite reasonable.”
Nathan’s fingers traced lightly over the sensitive bones at the base of her neck. His voice was a soft murmur. “I am a man who will only ever want one woman.” He looked up into her eyes. “You are that woman.”
Tears of relief flooded her eyes. “Make love to me,” she demanded.
The water barely stirred about them as Nathan’s warm lips moved over her skin.
CHAPTER 15
Fraying mats circled a sputtering blaze. The fidgety innkeeper lurked in the doorway of the small, dismal establishment, ready to rush out and sell more stale food and sour drink to the large traveling party. The accommodations were the best to be had, and the sad part was, Nathan had stayed in far worse inns, in far smaller towns.
Herod and his men passed pitchers of wine with the same abandon they swapped war stories, crude language, and crass innuendos.
Nathan cringed for Alexandra’s sake. Traveling with soldiers for company was a mistake. Not that he’d been given much choice. Deciding at the last hour to make a cursory inspection of Galilee, Herod packed his wife, Doris, off to Idumea with his father and informed Nathan that the new governor of Galilee and his men would escort Nathan and Alexandra to Rumah.
Nathan should have stood his ground and traveled home with a paid guard rather than subject Lex to this uncouth band. He didn’t remember acting and talking this foully when he was a soldier, but Herod’s knowing smile told him differently.
He leaned close to Alexandra and offered an apology. “They’ve started early tonight. We’d best go inside.”
Herod held out a staying hand. “Don’t go yet.” He turned to his men. “Knock off the nonsense,” he barked. Sitting up straighter, he leaned forward. “I’ve been thinking about the governorship.” A born administrator, Herod always had a plan at the ready.
“And?” Nathan prompted.
Herod’s black eyes gleamed intently. “I don’t know a damnable thing about Galilee. I want to hire you to advise me on local matters.”
Stifling a groan, Nathan gave Herod a direct look. “I will help you as often as I can.” Nathan pressed his hand discreetly to Lex’s leg. “But my family is my first priority.” Lex shifted closer to him.
Herod clucked his tongue in disgust. “Anyone can manage your farm.”
“I don’t want anyone else managing it.”
“As governor of Galilee I could order you to do it.”
No one was going to ride roughshod over Nathan. He stared Herod down. “I don’t have time to traipse back and forth between the farm and your post.”
Herod threw his hands up. “If you won’t do it for me, then do it for your friends and neighbors, to save them from suffering from my mistakes.”
Nathan blew out a frustrated breath. An argument with merit—how could he say no? “Look...” Nathan strived to sound reasonable. “...if I believe you are about to make an idiotic blunder, I’ll tell you friend to friend.”
Herod opened his mouth. A loud fart ripped the air. A burst of belly-busting laughter followed.
Nathan frowned at Herod’s men.
Herod gave them a dirty look. The grinning idiots pointed out the guilty man, a strapping young soldier looking shamelessly proud of the impolite deed.
Nathan took hold of Alexandra’s hand and helped her to her feet. “Goodnight, gentlemen,” he said, glad for the excuse to escape Herod’s badgering.
Nathan directed Lex to the small lane fronting the inn. “Do you mind taking a walk? I don’t know about you, but I’m not in any hurry to bed down in the grubby cubbyhole the innkeeper calls a bedroom.”
Alexandra looped her arm through his. “The first two inns we tried didn’t look any better.”
Late arriving in town, they’d had to settle for the last available rooms. The Lion’s Den Inn. A flea-bitten pile of rocks was what it was.
They passed by a newly built shop. “I hardly recognize Cadasa. The town was a simple watering hole before the Romans arrived. A small village has sprung up since the last time I was here.”
Lex remained quiet.
He never should have brought his sheltered bride on this trip. “I am sorry to expose you to the men’s crude behavior. Soldiers are little better than brute beasts.” She’d watched him duel like a soldier in the arena, race his horse around a track watched over by foreign idols, and socialize with Romans in sumptuous banqueting halls, all without comment.
Lex came to a stop and turned her face up to his. The moonlight illuminated her soft beauty. “You are nothing like Herod and his men.”
The coward in him wanted to give her leave to believe the best about him. He cleared his throat and fought past the bitter taste in his mouth. “In here,” He guided her hands to his chest and pressed her palms to his heart. “I am like them or worse.”
Tears welled in her gray eyes. “Herod thought I’d run back to my father when I learned you are called the angel of death.”
He flinched, hearing the ugly name fall from her lips.
She began to tremble. “Were you...were you hoping I would beg for a divorce after seeing you fight in the arena?”
“No. For the love of...no.” He hugged her hard. “But you have to be disgusted, now that you know what kind of man you married.”
She wrapped her arms around him and pressed against him. “I married a good man, and nothing I saw or heard in Syria changed my mind.”
Relief washed through him.
Then a high-pitched scream tore through the dark. Panicked shouts and confused noise followed.
Nathan drew his dagger. He’d gone over enough walls in the middle of the night to recognize the sounds of victims taken unaware and of attackers screaming like the demons of hell.
“Someone is laying siege to the village. Come,” he said. He took Lex’s hand and ran for the inn. Pushing her inside, he dashed into their small room, grabbed up his sword, and headed back to the door. He touched Lex’s arm. “Don’t stir from here until I get back.” The innkeeper and his wife wore terrified looks. “Bar the door behind me,” he commanded, and raced into the dark.
Frightened villagers peeked out their doors. A dog barked a warning at him. He rounded a corner and found Herod standing in the doorway of a tiny inn holding a blood-soaked body. A woman wailed in the background. “We came too late to help,” Herod said, his face pinched. “Bandits robbed the guests, then stabbed the innkeeper.” He passed the limp body over to two of his men.
Screams and shouts came from down the lane.
Nathan and Herod took off at a run. Herod’s soldiers poured out of the inn and raced to catch up.
They came to another inn, this one lit by lamps. The sight of a bloody man lying on the g
round and a host of bewildered souls roaming the yard struck soul-robbing fear into Nathan. “Lex!” he howled, reversing course and charging back toward the Lion’s Den Inn.
This was Hezekiah and Judas’s handiwork. He was sure of it. They were at it again. Striking out at so-called Roman sympathizers. Tonight they’d turned their wrath on Cadasa’s innkeepers. And the innkeeper hiding Lex might well open his door to fellow Galileans turned bandits, not realizing he’d become a target. Nathan would kill Judas with his bare hands if the cretin dared to lay one finger on her.
He couldn’t move fast enough. His feet felt like they were mired in deep clay. Breath ragged, he rounded the last corner. Up ahead, he saw a man pushing someone over the low wall running behind the Lion’s Den Inn.
What if the rebels carried Lex off like they had Lydia? His stomach lurched. Please, God, no! Nathan raced to the mud wall and threw one leg over it.
“Nathan. Nathan,” a frightened voice called out.
He hugged the wall to keep from going over. “Lex?” Dropping to the ground, he scrambled over the dirt, heading toward the sound of her beautiful, wonderful voice. He met her coming around the corner of the inn. “Lex!” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. He was too relieved to be angry with her for ignoring his order to stay inside.
She pressed up against him.
A winded Herod stopped beside them.
“What happened? What was all the screaming about?” Lex asked.
“Those damnable bandits are what happened,” Herod growled. He took a few steps toward the wall and scanned the dark. “I’ll send men after them, although I’m not holding out much hope that they’ll catch anyone.” His voice turned quiet and deadly. “These raids are unacceptable. My first priority will be to put an end to them.”
The throbbing pressure in Nathan’s head increased. Hezekiah didn’t know it, but he’d riled the wrong man.
Herod patted Nathan on the shoulder as he walked past. “Let’s go clean up this mess.”
The Warrior (The Herod Chronicles Book 1) Page 14
