Beloved Protector (Heartsong Presents)

by Darlene Mindrup

  When it was time to leave, Andronicus came to help her onto her horse. She handed Hazaq to Didius, who was standing nearby, and turned to Andronicus. Grasping her by her waist, he lifted her onto the horse. When their eyes met, his dark, possessive gaze made her breath catch in her throat. Her mind told her to look away, but her eyes refused to comply.

  Didius watched their silent exchange with lifted brows. Coughing slightly, he interrupted their soundless communication by handing Hazaq into Tapat’s waiting arms.

  The sun had just begun its downward descent when they finally reached the plains of Jordan. The sand lay out before them, appearing white in the bright sunlight. The area was practically lifeless except for the desert-loving brush scattered throughout. The spring rains were long past and the hot summer was already drying what was left of the blooming plants.

  In the distance, the lush fertile banks of the Jordan could be seen and, beyond that, the green and rich mountainous region of the Decapolis.

  It took several more hours before they finally reached the thick, verdant bushes and trees lining the banks of the Jordan River. Tapat gave a long sigh of relief as they moved beneath the canopy of green; the respite from the desert heat was instantaneous.

  Andronicus motioned for them to stop. Tapat waited for Didius to come and get Hazaq and then quickly dismounted before Andronicus could help her. One minute Andronicus looked at her as if he wanted to throttle her, the next as if he wanted to...what? What was that disturbing look she had seen in his eyes that made her insides coil and twist like a writhing serpent?

  She wasn’t certain what she had done to aggravate him earlier, and she didn’t intend to wait around and find out. She was in no mood to spar with him right now.

  She took Hazaq and headed for the river. The rushing sound of the water was soothing and she longed to plunge into it, but she needed to attend to a few things before she could do so.

  Although she was tempted to ignore him, Andronicus’s command to wait stopped her in her tracks. She turned to him in question, annoyed with herself when her heart thrummed at an accelerated pace. No matter how much she might wish it otherwise, she couldn’t deny the hold he had over her emotions.

  He reached her side and looked past her to the tree-shrouded banks of the river.

  “The climb down the bank is rather steep. Allow me to carry Hazaq.”

  She handed the babe over without comment. He held Hazaq with one arm and guided Tapat with his other hand. As she slipped and slid, he seemed as sure-footed as a mountain goat. She envied him the fact that he always seemed so confident of himself.

  Tapat found a flat place to lay Hazaq down and hurriedly unwrapped his soiled swaddling cloths, setting them aside to be added to the others. Free of the hot blanket, he kicked his thin legs gleefully and gurgled with happy contentment. Tapat smiled at his play. He was such a sweet little babe.

  She ran her hands gently over his arms and legs, noting with sadness that they were not putting on any weight. Although the goat’s milk had helped him to survive, he wasn’t getting enough sustenance to nourish his body. She didn’t know what else to do. He was much too young to feed solid foods.

  Andronicus seated himself cross-legged beside her.

  He gently chucked Hazaq under the chin with his finger and the babe squealed, grabbing the offending appendage. Tapat saw the softening of Andronicus’s countenance and her heart melted. One moment he could be fierce and brutal and the next soft and gentle.

  It was hard to relate this man to the same one who had ruthlessly brandished his sword last night, annihilating his opponents swiftly and effectively. She was beginning to see more and more the facets of his character, each one more compelling than the last. But this switching back and forth between the two was leaving her dizzy.

  “He is a beautiful child,” he told her softly, allowing Hazaq to chew on his finger.

  He glanced up and caught her look before she had time to school her features. His eyes darkened as he searched hers for something, but she couldn’t fathom what he was looking for.

  The silence between them lengthened, humming with unasked questions.

  They were interrupted by the men bringing the horses down to the river to drink. Celsus knelt to fill the water flasks.

  “Are we going to make camp here tonight?” he asked, standing and hoisting the filled bags over his shoulders.

  Andronicus shook his head. “No. We’ll camp on the other side. I only stopped here to give the horses a rest after the hot trip across the valley.”

  Arius studied the flowing river. “It doesn’t look very deep here. It will be a good place to cross.” He looked at Andronicus. “Still, Crassus will have to ride.”

  It was true. The litter couldn’t be dragged through the water. Though somewhat shallow at this point, the river was still too deep for the conveyance. Tapat opened her mouth to object but was interrupted by Crassus’s voice preceding him.

  “I will be fine.”

  Crassus slowly made his way down to them, one arm curled around his injured middle, the other using the various trees for support. With every step, his face whitened further.

  Tapat jumped to her feet. “Are you demented? You should be lying down!”

  He smiled wryly. “There is only one babe on this journey, and it is not I.”

  Tapat glared at Andronicus. “Tell him!”

  She couldn’t understand the look that crossed Andronicus’s face, nor the one he exchanged with Crassus. “I think perhaps Crassus knows best what he can and can’t handle.”

  She looked at each man in turn for support but could find no one willing to agree with her. What was it with men? Were they so afraid of being seen as weak that they would risk permanent injury to themselves to prove otherwise? Glowering in frustration at each of them, she picked Hazaq up and flounced farther downstream. Let them have each other’s company; she was fed up with the lot of them.

  Holding Hazaq under his arms, she dipped his legs into the water. At the unexpected coolness, his eyes widened in surprise. He pulled his legs up, squealing and then, laughing, started kicking his feet in the water. Tapat laughed with him when his antics drenched them both.

  Andronicus followed her. He was undaunted by the look she gave him. His lips twitched with amusement, rekindling the ashes of her anger. She saw nothing humorous in his taking Crassus’s side over hers.

  “We will be ready to leave in a few minutes. Do what you need to, and come back.”

  “What about washing Hazaq’s clothes?”

  “We will make camp on the other side of the river in Decapolis territory. You can take care of it then.”

  He turned and headed back to where the soldiers waited. She took the opportunity to make use of the surrounding trees to answer nature’s call before wrapping Hazaq in her shawl and returning to the others.

  Andronicus took the reins to Tapat’s horse, while Didius took the reins of Crassus’s. Although it was mere feet to the other side, with each jolting move, Crassus’s face grew paler and Tapat feared he would fall from his mount into the water. Celsus must have had the same idea because he spurred his horse next to Crassus, maintaining his distance but ready to steady him if needed.

  Tapat clung tightly to her own horse with her legs as they moved down into the river. She grasped Hazaq so tightly, the child eventually let her know with a sudden shriek that he didn’t appreciate the confining hold. She only slightly loosened her hold on him while maintaining her own grip on her horse.

  The river was calm at this location, rising only as far as the horse’s belly. It took only a few moments to cross to the other side, and Tapat released a relieved breath when they finally stopped again.

  * * *

  Andronicus led them out of the dense foliage lining the banks and into a level section where they could make camp. He r
elaxed, knowing there was little possibility of attack on this side of the Jordan. They were in Decapolis territory, and the Decapolis cities made certain that the area was free of Jewish or Arab invaders.

  The Decapolis cities had maintained their Greek identities despite having been taken over by Maccabean rule and then later by the Romans under Pompey. They clung fiercely to Greek ways, and Rome allowed them their independence with only minor interference. They were even allowed their own system of defense and, being small cities, they combined their forces to protect their borders.

  Which was probably why the Christians had decided to settle here. From what he had learned from his spies in Jerusalem, after the purge of Christians by the Jews, most Christians in the area were now Gentiles. They would have no problem fitting in with the Greek cities despite the many idols littering the streets and buildings.

  A startled exclamation from Tapat brought his attention to her. She was hurrying to a small cluster of bushes.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, making his way to her side. She handed him Hazaq.

  “Nothing is wrong. I have found what I need to make a sedative for Crassus.”

  Andronicus frowned. Tapat’s strong concern for the younger soldier worried him. They seemed to grow closer with each passing mile, whereas he and she seemed to be growing farther apart. Why had Tapat put such distance between them while allowing herself a closer bond with Crassus?

  “May I use your dagger?”

  He handed it to her without thought, reminding himself just how much he trusted her. He only wished that she would feel the same way about him.

  She knelt, glancing at him over her shoulder while hacking away at the plant. “Will you feed Hazaq while I prepare the medicine?”

  He nodded, smiling down at the cooing babe. “Are you hungry, little man?”

  He waited until Tapat was satisfied that she had enough of the plant and then walked with her to where the others had already set up camp. Celsus stood first guard while the others found places to sleep.

  Andronicus settled himself near the tent and prepared to feed Hazaq while watching Tapat.

  She peeled the bark from the plant she had collected, releasing the resin underneath. Then, filling a clay bowl with water, she added the bark, setting the whole thing in the fire to boil.

  He recognized the other plant she lifted from beside her. Aloe was a common medicinal plant.

  Glancing over at Crassus, he saw that he slept fitfully near the fire, unaware of Tapat’s absorbed attention on preparing something to relieve his pain. She squeezed some of the aloe’s tissue onto a rag and added several drops of the resin from the other plant.

  Hazaq’s sucking grew less urgent as he became satisfied. Each time the little fellow closed his eyes, he would jerk awake and begin sucking again until, finally, his eyes stayed closed, his breathing deepened and his little body became a dead weight, telling Andronicus that he was asleep at last.

  He wasn’t certain what they were going to do with the little babe. Although the goat’s milk was keeping him alive, he was on a razor-thin edge. His little body was not growing as it should because he couldn’t get enough sustenance by just sucking dropperfuls at a time. Perhaps when they got to Pella they could figure out a better way to nourish him. Mayhap they would even find a wet nurse.

  Andronicus placed Hazaq on the blanket in the tent, taking a moment to rub a calloused finger across his downy little cheek. Who would this innocent little child grow up to be? So many scenarios played through his mind, none of them to his liking. There was no denying that the babe had wormed his way into Andronicus’s heart. It was going to be a wrench to leave him.

  After exiting the tent, Andronicus went and stood next to Tapat, who was kneeling beside Crassus.

  “How is he?”

  She shook her head as she used a cloth to wipe the perspiration from Crassus’s forehead. “He has the beginning of a fever.”

  That was certainly not a good sign. Andronicus knelt beside her. “What do you want to do?”

  “I need to remove the wrapping around his wound, but I hate to awaken him when I know how exhausted and weak he must be.”

  Andronicus gently shook the other man’s shoulder. “Crassus. Wake up.”

  Recognizing the commanding voice, Crassus’s eyes quickly opened. Andronicus’s mouth tilted into a lopsided smile. Even asleep and with a fever, he still recognized his commander’s voice. It was drummed into them early in their training, as was the ability to focus in spite of injury or pain.

  Despite his earlier reservations about Crassus, he had proved his worth time and time again. With each passing day, he grew fonder of the boy. Andronicus had no doubt in his mind that Crassus would willingly die for those he was loyal to. Perhaps it was not so hard to understand Tapat’s concern after all; Crassus had bestowed on her the same fierceness of devotion that he had for his legion. He felt a sharp pang at the thought and recognized it for the jealousy that it was.

  “Tribune?” Crassus questioned in a raspy voice. He tried to rise, but Tapat gently pushed him back.

  “It’s all right, Crassus,” she soothed. “We merely need to change your bandage.”

  He settled back with a sigh, his eyes rolling back into his head.

  Andronicus lifted Crassus’s tunic, exposing his loin cloth. Tapat colored hotly, turning her face away.

  “Do you want me to do it?” Andronicus asked her.

  She shook her head, swallowing down her discomfort. “No, I need you to bring me some water to wash away the salt.”

  He hesitated. “Are you certain?”

  She nodded, focusing her attention on removing the bandage.

  Andronicus retrieved the flask of water and handed it to her. As gently as possible, she poured it over the wound as she wiped away the crystals of salt at the same time. Crassus sucked in his breath, his hands clutching the blanket he lay upon.

  Tapat lightly and carefully smoothed the balm mixture over the wound. It took only moments before Crassus’s body relaxed, his teeth slowly unclenching.

  “Better?” Tapat asked him, once again wiping the perspiration from his face.

  He nodded tightly, and Tapat set about rewrapping the wound.

  Tapat looked up at Andronicus. “I need a cup of wine.”

  With a quick jerk of the head in affirmation, he quickly retrieved the flask that contained the fermented drink. Tapat then added it to the resinous liquid in the bowl she had placed in the fire. When the mixture had cooled enough, she helped Crassus to sit up enough to drink the gall, then helped him to settle back against the blanket.

  “In a few moments, you should feel an ease of the pain and be able to sleep.”

  He gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

  She waited until she was certain Crassus was asleep before she left from his side. Andronicus lifted a brow in question.

  “What now?”

  “Now,” Tapat said wearily, gathering up the dirty laundry, “I need to wash Hazaq’s swaddling cloths.”

  Andronicus took them from her and she looked at him in surprise.

  “Why don’t you wash your own clothes and take a bath in the river?” He had seen the yearning in her eyes ever since they had reached the Jordan. “I will wash Hazaq’s clothing.”

  Her brow lifted dubiously and he grinned. “I’m not helpless, you know. I do know how to wash linen strips.”

  She still looked uncertain. “If you are sure.”

  “I am. You may move over into the darkness, but stay close enough that I can hear you if you call.”

  She glanced at the soiled cloths and then back at the river longingly. Finally giving in to the desire, she smiled in capitulation. She grabbed a blanket from the tent to wrap herself in while her clothing dried and hurried past him into the darker ar
ea of the river just beyond the campfire.

  Andronicus moved down to the water’s edge and began dipping the cloths up and down in the water. He found a rock to pound them on and continued pounding and wringing while surreptitiously watching Tapat’s shadowy figure in the darkness beyond.

  He heard her singing, her soft, musical voice more soothing than the moving water. The words were about her Christ, her Savior who had died on a Roman cross. For some reason, the words reached deep into the inner recesses of his mind and conjured up pictures that he would like to forget.

  In front of Jerusalem right this very minute many more crosses lined the roads, crosses with people screaming in pain.

  Such things had been a part of his life for many years, so why was it bothering him so much now? The curious words of the song penetrated his musing.

  Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.

  What kind of mixed up nonsense was that? The only thing he was certain of was that this woman had tied him up in knots and he didn’t know how to extricate himself—or even if he wanted to.

  He snorted in derision, reminding himself again that he was in the middle of a war. He didn’t have time for romance.

  Chapter 13

  They traveled northward following the river’s course. Two wearying days later they reached the outer region of the city of Pella.

  Tapat was relieved to see that Crassus no longer flinched in pain with every plodding step. The balm had worked, and with the aloe, his wound was healing. The fever she had been worrying over ceased to exist, and she attributed that to prayer more than anything.

  As they passed through a wooded area beside the Jordan and close to the city, they heard voices off to their left. The soldiers, including Crassus, tensed and drew their swords swiftly from their scabbards. His fierce countenance gave no indication of pain.

  Tapat marveled at the endurance of Roman soldiers. Somehow, they willed themselves to ignore even excruciating pain when faced with the possibility of conflict. It was no wonder that Rome had conquered most of the known world when it commanded men like that.