Kadar nodded at a group of women drawing water from a well. “It’s a good bet Nazareth has never seen the type of money Herod is spending.”
Nathan shifted in his saddle. “It’s because the few hundred people calling Nazareth home have never come across the force that is Herod on a mission.” Given a decrepit fortress, Antipater’s youngest son would work and work on the garrison until it outshone his brothers’ strongholds.
Kadar frowned. “What’s happened, olive farmer? You look like you swallowed a thorn bush.”
Nathan checked the position of the sun. “I have an important matter to discuss with Herod.” It was late afternoon. Home was a half-day trip away. “My plan is to be off by first light tomorrow.”
Agile for a big man, Kadar swung gracefully up onto the back of his stallion. “Herod won’t like that you can’t stay. With both of us here, he’ll want to arrange some horse races and sword fights.”
Nathan exhaled heavily. “So, what’s brought you into Galilee?”
“Antipater sent me up here to warn Herod to expect trouble.”
More bad news was the last thing Nathan needed to hear. “What’s happened now?”
Kadar nudged his horse into a slow walk. “You’re gonna love this. The city of Athens voted to give Antipater a golden crown and to erect a bronze statue in his honor.”
Nathan winced and prodded Royal ahead. “Why would Athens do such a thing?”
Kadar shrugged. “Antipater said it’s because Julius Caesar named him governor of Judea and bestowed most favored nation status on the Hebrew nation, and now Athens and others are trying to curry favor with Caesar by claiming Antipater as their friend, too.”
Nathan shook his head in disgust. “I suppose they want to place the cursed statue in a prominent place, such as the Acropolis or Mars Hill?”
Kadar laughed. “No. Nothing so grand. It will stand in a marketplace next to a Temple to the goddess, Hera.”
“Grand?” Nathan asked, miffed. That was the problem with converts to Judaism. The Idumeans didn’t appreciate the zeal true Jews had for the Commandments of God—thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image. Nathan clutched Royal’s reins tighter. “Antipater agreed to this blasphemy?”
“Oh, it’s worse than that. You know how Antipater’s careful to deflect all honors away from himself and onto High Priest Hycranus?”
Nathan groaned. “And Hycranus didn’t have the backbone to say no to Athens.”
Kadar merely raised his brows.
A statue? Of John Hycranus? Nathan gnashed his teeth. “Job’s bones!” The loud complaint garnered curious stares from the handful of men milling flour at Nazareth’s communal grindstone. He lowered his voice. “All Judea will be pulling their hair out over Hycranus’ idolatry.”
Kadar’s smile was apologetic. “I imagine your rebel friends will kick up hard over this.”
“They no longer count themselves my friends,” Nathan reported glumly. “But you’re right. Hezekiah never misses an opportunity to denounce the corrupt practices of Hycranus and his greedy associates. What measures has Herod taken?”
“He’s sent out extra men to scout for trouble.”
“Herod will want to hear the news I bring, then,” Nathan said.
Nazareth behind them, they urged their horses into a gallop. Pushing their mounts hard, they raced across the rolling hills until Sepphoris came into view. Situated atop a steep rise, the fortress city stood like a watchful sentinel over the valley floor. Established by the Hasmoneans after they had liberated Israel from Greek rule, it was the strongest, wealthiest city in the region, boasting two-storied homes, several thriving bazaars, and hefty city walls.
A short while later they slowed their sweating steeds to a walk and passed through the crumbling gates. They steered the horses to the back of an old fortress, suffering from a collection of haphazard additions. The ring of metal hitting on metal called out to them. Rounding the corner to the stable complex, they encountered a crude version of a Roman gyrus, a circular wooden corral used to train cavalry riders and horses.
Herod stood at the arena’s chest-high wall, overseeing a mock battle. He signaled the flaggers stationed around the ring to wave the fight to an end. Good-natured banter replaced swordplay.
Nathan smiled as agreeable memories of his rough-and-ready life in Antipater’s military camps flooded back. Had he and Herod been that young and cocky? Yes. And probably more so. If providence pushed Nathan back to soldiering, he’d choose to serve under Herod and not Simeon Onias.
Herod growled some instructions to the soldiers, sobering them. The men remounted their horses. The flags dropped and they came out fighting.
Nathan slid off Royal, tossed the reins to a waiting slave, and followed Kadar across the yard to the gyrus.
“I’ve seen eunuchs fight with more spirit!” Kadar’s voice boomed above the sound of whinnying horses and the shrill clash of steel.
Herod swung around. “It’s about time you showed up, you barbarian bas—” He spotted Nathan. His frown deepened. “Olive farmer. It’s nice of you to finally get around to telling me Hezekiah showed up at your synagogue. My scouts reported it to me this time yesterday.”
“I had problems of my own,” Nathan said evenly. He clapped his friend’s shoulder. “What’s put you in a foul mood?”
“Phasael sent Herod a friendly greeting,” Kadar explained. The age-old rivalry between Antipater’s sons was exceeded only by their intense loyalty to one another.
Herod pulled a crumpled scroll from his pocket and shoved it at Nathan. “My brother is living the life of splendor at the governor’s gilded palace in Jerusalem, entertaining High Priest Hycranus and Roman officials, while I’m chasing after desert rats and living in a fort that’s falling down around my ears.”
Nathan pulled the string holding the scroll closed. “Phasael is the eldest. It’s only natural your father made him governor of Judea.”
Herod snatched the letter back. “Thanks, you cold-hearted dog.” He stuffed the thin roll back into his pocket. “I tell you one thing. I won’t sit up here meek as a mouse and allow my brothers to grab all the glory. I’ll make sure my father remembers I’m out here.”
The determination in Herod’s voice worried Nathan. He cleared his throat. “I have—”
Herod held up a hand. “Hold on.” He climbed over the gyrus’ high wooden wall, jumped into the fray of horses and men, and yanked a soldier off his saddle. The beefy man landed on his backside in the dirt, putting an abrupt end to the mock battle.
Nathan and Kadar rested their elbows on the wall, ready to enjoy the show.
“Keep your shield up, you cretin halfwit!” Herod yelled. He tore the leather oval away from the stunned man and thumped him over the head with it. “Did you listen to a thing I said? You knock aside the blows from your enemy’s sword and wait for him to expose his neck. Let him make the first mistake.”
Nathan smiled. “Herod’s as tough a commander as his father.”
“Maybe better,” Kadar remarked. He gave Nathan a sideways look. “His brothers know it, too. And work extra hard to humble him.”
“They’re wasting their time,” Nathan said. “A dozen bull elephants couldn’t contain Herod’s ambitions.”
Herod tossed the shield back at the soldier and swiped his hands at the rest of his men. “Go. Get out of here.”
Nathan winced. “I wish he had some of his father’s patience.”
Herod jumped back over the wall and dropped to his feet beside them. “I’m ready to resume the hunt for the bandits,” he announced.
Nathan drummed his fingers against the leather scabbard at his side. “You’ll want to hear what I have to tell you first.”
Herod invited Nathan to follow him. “Talk to me while we walk. I have a mountain of business to attend to before tomorrow. We ride out at first light.”
Nathan lengthened his stride and caught up with Herod. “I can’t go with you.”
Herod came
to an abrupt stop. “Why, in the name of the Creator, not?” His unhappiness didn’t last past Nathan’s explanation of his plight.
The next morning the governor of Galilee rode out of the fort with a hundred men at his back, indecently pleased at the prospect of helping Nathan recover from the loss of his olive crop. Nathan was tasked with keeping an eye on Simeon Onias. And Herod resumed the hunt for the rebels.
Nathan didn’t leave Sepphoris at dawn as planned. News of the killer frost and of his arrival at the fortress had spread like wildfire from gossiping slave to gossiping slave. A friend of his father who was in failing health had asked Nathan to visit with him.
A few hours later Nathan stood at the entrance of the fortress stable, impatiently waiting for a slave to saddle his horse. Hearing his name, he turned around. Kadar strode toward him.
Red-faced and winded, the giant man greeted Nathan with a frown. “A messenger just arrived. A scout spotted Judas the Zealot on the move, with his men.”
The stable slave led Royal over and passed the reins to Nathan. Nathan patted the horse’s neck. “Thank the Lord. It’s about time something went right. If I ride hard, I can catch up with Herod and give him the report.”
“You don’t understand. The scout reported seeing Judas and his band leave Rumah and head up the trail toward your farm.”
Judas wouldn’t dare attack his family, Nathan told himself, even as the image of Judas’ angry face loomed before him. He leaned heavily against Royal. “Lex...Father...” he groaned as the twin blasts of heat and rage consumed him.
CHAPTER 21
The goats’ urgent bawling pricked at Alexandra’s ears. Heels scuffing over the dirt floor, she pushed the circling animals out of the way. “Shoo goat, shoo.” The ripe smell of musty hay and animal dung stung at her eyes and nose.
Much as she disliked her present company, it was heavenly compared to being penned-up inside the tent with her unhappy father. Nathan would be home soon. Everything would be better with Nathan here.
She retrieved a long-handled fork from the corner and dug into the soiled straw vigorously enough that dust and chaff swirled upward. She jabbed and tossed with force, taking her frustration out on the hay. Beads of moisture trickled down her back. Once she was finished piling the dirty straw in the corner, she wiped her damp forehead and modestly flapped the folds of her tunic to cool off a bit.
Suddenly bright light flooded the barn. She jumped and spun around. A man stood in the open doorway, the fiery rays of the sun shooting out from behind his head and arms. Her mouth went dry as the man stepped inside and closed the door.
She backed up and almost tripped over a goat. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, fool woman,” her father growled.
Her relief was brief. She had volunteered to milk the goats, believing the dirty barn was the safest place to hide from her fastidious father. “May I help you with something?” she asked.
Her father inspected the place with a curled up nose. “Your husband brought you to live in a place fit for goats?”
Her back stiffened. “This was a cozy home. But then it rained buckets and the wall caved in and...”
Her father targeted her with his hard eyes.
Flustered, her voice grew smaller. “Nathan’s building us a stone house.”
Studying her with the same intensity he used when musing over a difficult passage from the Torah, he said, “You don’t actually believe you are strong and robust enough to help your husband eke a living out of the dirt, do you?”
No she didn’t, and it frightened her half to death.
Her father closed the distance between them and circled his fingers around her slender wrist. “You take after the women in your mother’s family. They are all pale, weak creatures, accustomed to having slaves waiting on them hand and foot.” He shook her unresisting arm and dropped it. “Now that indentured slave, Sapphira, she comes from hardy stock. She is a big, strong girl. Not thin and weak like you. She is the kind of wife Nathan needs.”
Lex examined her fingers and palm. Unlike the slave maiden’s red and roughened skin, her hands were pink and soft. Was it any wonder Rhoda favored Sapphira? The country-bred girl could work circles around Lex. And, Lord forbid, if Rhoda grew ill or died—Alexandra would be lost without the older woman’s help and guidance. “Nathan wants me as his wife,” she said as much to herself as her father.
He gave her a pitying look. “He says so now.”
Mary came skipping into the barn. “Mother sent me out to help. She is afraid the goats won’t behave for you and that you’ll get kicked again.”
Her father turned and walked out the door, chuckling as he went.
Lex clenched her teeth and managed a small smile for Mary.
Unfortunately, she and her sweet sister-in-law finished the outside chores too quickly to suit her and she had to return to the tent. Father watched her every move all through the morning chores and breakfast. Feeling as though she had two left hands, she knelt beside the reed-mat table and pulled it toward her. Don’t let him upset you. Ignore him, her mind repeated over and over. She rolled the mat up tight and hugged it to her chest. Hurrying to stand, she toppled over. “Clumsy oaf,” she grumbled, tugging on the long veil caught under one knee. She’d donned the cumbersome headdress to please her father—a clear waste of her time.
Sapphira rushed over and grabbed the mat from Alexandra. “Be careful, or you’ll tear it to pieces and Rhoda will have to mend it. The poor woman has enough work to do as it is.”
Alexandra stole a glance at her father.
A thin smile crossed his lips.
She gathered her dirt-stained veil to her waist and stood. Chin held high, she walked straight-backed across the tent and threw the flap back. A few steps outside the door, she tossed the veil aside and ran toward the orchard. Her breath hitching, she raced behind the trees and fell to her knees and buried her face in her hands.
“Lord, I’m trying,” she sobbed. “But I’m tired and afraid. And there’s so much to learn and so much work to do.” The cooking and mending and tending the garden and washing the clothes and on and on and on. “If I had more time. If I was strong like Sapphira.”
A branch broke with a loud snap, startling her. She stared straight ahead.
Her father-in-law appeared from behind a squat tree, carrying a limb lined with withered flowers. “Alexandra?” Concern etched his face. He came and sat down in the grass beside her.
She hated being caught sniveling like an unhappy child. She scrubbed her sleeve over her wet eyes. “Did Rhoda send you to find me? I’m sorry. I needed a few moments alone.” Could she sound anymore selfish or weak? Tears welled up. She sprang to her feet.
“Please stay.” Her father-in-law patted the ground.
A sparrow darted past her. She followed its flight and watched it join a flock of birds roosting in the treetops. “You must think me the weakest, most unworthy woman to ever grace your noble orchard.”
“Rhoda and I are worried about you. Sit and talk with me.”
She plopped back down and hung her head on her drawn-up knees. “I don’t mean to be a bother. I know I don’t belong here. I tried to tell Nathan, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He’ll heed you, Father,” she choked on the endearment. This kind, wonderful man wasn’t going to be her father-in-law much longer. Regret stuck in her throat like a fist. “You have to convince Nathan to divorce me.”
“Divorce? Unworthy woman?” Joseph’s voice was kindness itself. “What’s this nonsense? Rhoda and I think of you as a beloved daughter.”
“You are the kindest person I’ve ever known.” She looked up at him and sighed. “But, I think Rhoda would be relieved to see me go.”
“If my fretful wife wants be rid of anybody, it is your father. Or, as Rhoda calls him, Beelzebub.” Joseph’s smile faded. “Rhoda gets out of humor when she’s worried. Don’t hold it against her.”
“No. Never.”
Fondness shone in his eyes. “R
hoda can’t help but fuss and worry. It’s what she does for those she loves.”
Although grateful to learn she did have Joseph and Rhoda’s good opinion, Lex still had her doubts. “I adore and care about you and Rhoda and Mary and Timothy with all my heart, but...”
“But, nothing,” Joseph said. “You make my son happy. That’s all that matters. Everything else is an inconvenience. “
Her brows rose. “My father? The killing frost?”
Joseph’s serene smile didn’t falter. He held the small tree branch up, twirled it between his fingers, tossed it over his shoulder, and wiped his hands clean. “Mere nuisances. I have my family. It’s more than Job had.”
The story was a favorite of Alexandra’s. Job lost his wealth, and all ten of his children, and suffered boils from head to foot, and yet he did not curse God.
“Naked I came out of my mother’s womb and naked shall I return,” Joseph quoted. “The Lord gave, and Lord has taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord.”
Here was a man with the same spirit as Job. Come what may, Joseph of Rumah trusted in the Lord. “Is faith as simple as that?” she asked.
Joseph smiled. “It is for me.”
She shook her head in wonder. Her thoughts went to her father. Simeon Onias wasn’t at peace with himself or God. He would wreck everything and anyone to right what he perceived to be the wrongs done him. What a horrible way to live. She looked solemnly back at Joseph. “I will try to live by the same rule. To view trouble as a mere inconvenience.”
The sparrows roosting overhead squawked loudly and lifted as one. She looked up. A dozen or more men emerged from the trees and swarmed toward her and Joseph. Her blood turned cold. Judas the Zealot led the men, brandishing the sharp-edged knife Alexandra remembered all too well.
CHAPTER 22
Alexandra wrapped an arm around Joseph.
Judas loomed over them as he signaled his men to spread out to either side of him. Breathing hard, he turned his bright eyes on her. “Where’s your husband? And your father?”
The Warrior (The Herod Chronicles Book 1) Page 20
