House-sized command tents loomed large. Herod paused to bid the Romans farewell. Two men with the same woolly hair and swarthy complexion as Herod joined them. Joseph and Pheroras were Herod’s older brothers. Herod greeted them with a kiss on each cheek. Gabriel had thought the brothers imposing enough when they visited the Temple or strode the streets of Jerusalem, but their battle-dress added an intimidating layer of ferocity.
The brothers ducked through the opening of the command tent. Gabriel tightened the belt holding his sword in place and followed Leonidas and Rahm into the bowels of the cavernous, dung-colored tent.
Brass lamps hung from rug covered walls. A sturdy carpet covered the floor. Two slaves, one young and handsome and the other old and wrinkled, peeled off the men’s armor and stored them in weathered crates. Sword and knives went into a crate sitting next to a scarred wooden table littered with scrolls and maps held open with rocks. The slaves fetched fresh robes and bowls of perfumed water.
Gabriel and Leonidas sat on a bench, and the slaves helped remove their sandals and wash their feet. Then a curtain was pulled aside and Herod led them into an inner sanctum.
Greeted by the rich scents of the East, Gabriel flexed his toes against a thick, soft carpet woven with an intricate ruby-red and gold flower motif. The space was furnished like the richest homes in Jerusalem, with gold and ivory striped couches circling a carved wood table holding silver-gilt bowls heaped with breads, cheeses, fruits, and nuts.
They sat on plump cushions. A slave pushed a silver goblet embossed with grape clusters into Gabriel’s hand. Dinnerware worthy of royalty was laid before them. Gabriel studied Herod anew. Clothed in a red silk robe, fingers and wrists draped with bright jewels, and the rough edges of the soldier smoothed away, Herod did indeed look kingly. King David, the first king and the founder of Jerusalem, as well as a lifelong warrior, must have had a similar look.
A hostile gleam shining in his black eyes, Herod tipped his goblet at Gabriel. “Why should I trust you?”
Tempted to squirm in his seat as he had when his father had questioned him about some misdeed as a boy, Gabriel swallowed. “I carry a message from my cousin, James Onias.” He glanced over at Rahm. “The message is of a sensitive nature.”
Herod nodded. “He’s my man. Go on.”
Rahm’s gaped-toothed grin set Gabriel’s teeth on edge. “James says one of your spies is selling information to High Priest Hycranus.”
Herod shrugged. “Rahm warned me of the danger weeks ago.”
Gabriel’s next words had to be the most convincing of his life. He squared his shoulders. “I swear before the Lord and by all that’s holy, I come in all honesty to join you in the fight against High Priest Hasmond and the Parthians. Your enemies are my enemies.”
Herod studied him for a long moment. “Your father, as I recall, is a decent man. You consider him a foe?”
Leonidas bristled. “Simeon is forcing our father to support his wickedness.”
Angry again at his father for putting them in this position, Gabriel side-stepped the uncomfortable question. “I want what you want. Jerusalem fared well under your father’s care and protection. I believe you will be an equally good and generous guardian.”
Herod continued to stare a hole in Gabriel. “If you had to, could you cut down your father and brothers with that impressive sword of yours?”
“They’re not soldiers, they are religious men,” Leonidas said, voice rising.
Herod tipped his goblet at Gabriel again. “Could you cut them down?”
Rahm and Joseph and Pheroras leaned forward like buzzards hovering over a carcass, waiting for Gabriel to give the wrong answer.
Leonidas turned purple-faced. “We came to fight against High priest Hasmond’s army.”
Gabriel couldn’t picture himself lifting his sword against Cousin Simeon, whom he hated, much less against his loved ones. Never a good liar, he opted for bald honesty. “No, I would never do them harm.”
Herod nodded and sipped some wine. “You’re loyal to your family. That’s good.” He reached across the table and snagged a cluster of white grapes. Several fat globes dropped free and rolled around on the table. “You’d make a poor soldier. So here’s what I propose. I need—”
“How do you know I’d make a poor soldier?” Gabriel protested, insulted and offended by Herod’s easy dismissal, even as doubts swirled.
“Our stocks are dangerously low,” Herod went on as though Gabriel hadn’t spoken. “My supply lines are under attack, and the Roman commander is threatening to withdraw his men if I can’t provide an abundance of necessities. If you want to prove yourself, go to Samaria, buy all the grain, oil, wine, and cattle you can lay your hands on, and deliver the goods to me before the end of the month.”
Leonidas jumped up from the striped couch. “We aren’t merchants!”
“What does it matter?” Joseph piped up. “You might as well call yourself merchants as soldiers.”
Leonidas scowled. “You can’t treat us like this.”
In the courts of the Temple and on the streets of Jerusalem the Onias name meant something. Out here, among bloodied warriors, it counted for nothing. “Sit down,” Gabriel said, his voice gentle but firm.
His brother flopped down beside him. Rahm, Joseph, and Pheroras wore irritating smirks. Herod raised his brows in an are-you-going-to-take-my-offer-or-not gesture.
Gabriel wiped his clammy hands on his silk robe. Why did he burn with desire to show these men he was made of the same mettle as they were? What madness had gotten a hold of him? He was a priest, not a soldier or a merchant. The irksome proposal was his opportunity to save face. He could tell Herod to go to Hades, then run as fast as he could back to Jerusalem, back to his daughter, mother, and sister, back to his safe life.
Rahm flicked a grape past Gabriel’s shoulder. “Bandits are thick as fleas on the roads between here and Samaria. Are you sure you want to take your chances with them...again?”
Amusement glittered in Herod’s black eyes. “Again?”
“The boy and his brother ran into a band of outlaws.” Rahm sent another grape flying. “But they were rescued by a woman, and two old men, and a pair of snot-nosed pups.”
Leonidas thumped Gabriel on the back. “The fiends ran away when Gabriel pulled out his sword.”
The memory of Shoshana’s long, bronze hair cascading over her shoulders as she brandished her club in his defense flashed through Gabriel’s mind. He cleared his throat. “I’ll hire some rugged men to accompany us.”
“Good thinking,” said Rahm lining his finger up behind another grape. “At least you aren’t foolish and inept. Of course, your brother is no Solomon.”
Gabriel slammed his hand down onto Rahm’s meaty fist, squashing the grape. “No one asked for your opinion.”
Rahm bared his horse teeth. “Take your paws off me, priest.”
“Settle down,” Herod ordered.
Gabriel pulled his hand back and forced his eyes toward Herod. “Can you recommend any men?”
Herod tipped his head at Rahm. “He’ll set you up with the right fellows.”
Gabriel winced. “I’ll figure something out myself.”
“Allow Rahm to assist you,” Herod said, his tone closer to an order than a suggestion. “Rahm has connections. He will do right by you, won’t you?”
Rahm raked his fingers through his thinning hair. “I can solve two problems at once. The mule train operation you and your brother came across was one I hired on Herod’s behalf. They need a proper escort. You can repay their help by accompanying them north.”
Gabriel’s pulse leaped. “What if they say no?” Thanks to his insults, Shoshana would likely try to talk her grandfather out of accepting Rahm’s proposal.
Rahm smiled smugly. “Leave that to me.”
Gabriel squeezed his eyes close. Mother of mercy, why did he half-hope Rahm would succeed?
CHAPTER 7
Shoshana tossed a large clod of dried dung on
to the smoldering fire. Acrid smoke billowed upward. Eyes stinging and mouth souring, she turned her back to the light. What little beauty the hills above Jerusalem possessed vanished with the receding sun. Black shadows blanketed the squat bushes and jagged rocks strewn over the slope. A dark hiding place for wild beasts, bold bandits, and drunken soldiers.
The family had bedded down for the night at the tail-end of the vast army camp. She stared into the dark, willed Big Lev, Jacob, and Isaac to return from the well with the buckets of water for the mules penned inside the nearby paddock. Hulking gray forms wavered in the distance, moving closer and closer.
Several men’s voices to her right sent a chill down her spine. She spun around and grasped the wood club she kept close at all times. First one soldier, then another, and another emerged from the gloom. Hungry, depraved eyes locked on her. Choking lust permeated the air. More men appeared.
“Go away,” she called, backing toward the paddock where her grandfather was tending a lame mule. She could probably outrun the soldiers, especially if they’d indulged in too much wine. But what could her kind, hardworking grandfather do to stop drunken soldiers bent on defiling a woman foolish enough to step foot into an army camp short of female company.
She backed up faster and faster, and slammed up against a slab-like chest. Meaty arms encircled her. The reek of pickled fish and goat curd assaulted her nose. “John? What are you doing here?” For maybe the first time in their twenty-year marriage, Shoshana was actually relieved to see her husband.
He pushed her away and brushed his rat pelt of hair over his bald dome. Fat lips peeled back, framing the gap between his over-sized front teeth. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?”
Her grasping husband thought John was bland and unimpressive, so he’d changed his name. “I’ll make more of an effort to remember...Rahm.”
The bold name didn’t sit well on her tongue. Not in connection with John the Beggar. A title her husband had inherited from a mother and father who had been poorer than poor. Ashamed of his parents, Rahm had disowned them. They’d be buried in a potter’s grave if it hadn’t been for her grandfather welcoming her in-laws’ dried bones into the family tomb.
She hugged her wooden club.
“Stop acting like a kicked puppy,” he growled.
She didn’t fear for her safety. Though Rahm had tricked her grandfather into signing a marriage contract giving Rahm half ownership of the mule train operation, and though he had abandoned their marriage, he’d never lifted a hand to her. “We had to deliver the supplies to Herod. We didn’t have a choice.”
“I know about your run-in with the priests.”
There was no keeping a secret from John...no, Rahm. He had a way of finding out everything. Always. She glanced about, but the soldiers who had menaced her were gone.
“Don’t worry about those men,” Rahm said. “They won’t dare touch you once they learn you are married to me. Herod would have their heads. I’m the best spy he has. He turns to me for advice. I’m his right-hand man.”
Impatient with his bragging, she stood taller. “This will be our last trip to Jerusalem. It’s too dangerous. My grandfather is old. His bones ache. It’s too far to travel.”
Rahm looked bored. “I need you to make one more trip. Then I’ll go away and never bother you again.”
Which of the two statements was a lie? Probably both. “You’ve promised over and over you will give me a bill of divorce.”
“I’ve always treated you fairly.”
She wanted to laugh until she cried. The worst part was Rahm believed what he said. She gazed at the sputtering fire, rather than meet his sly eyes. “I’m tired. I want to stay close to home.”
Rahm grabbed her club. She held tight to it, and he dragged her and the stick to his doughy chest. “You will do exactly as I say, or I will inform Herod of your trickery.”
She gagged on his sour breath and wondered if Rahm threatened and bullied his new wife. “My trickery? I will tell Herod you are the one who has been forcing us to deliver the goods he had paid for to Hasmond.”
Rahm laughed nastily. “Herod won’t take a woman’s word over mine. Especially after I produce witnesses to testify against you and your grandfather and Big Lev.”
“Witnesses you buy with bribes?”
Rahm released the club and chucked her chin. “I don’t know why you try to out-maneuver me. Trust me, we will all benefit if you’ll just do as I say.”
Rahm’s overblown conceit would make angels gasp. Sick at heart, she relented. ”What now?”
“I’ve got a couple of fat fish in my net. The priests you rescued are filthy with wealth, and they are eager to win Herod’s confidence. The Onias brothers will be accompanying you back to Samaria. I can bleed coins out of them for a long time to come, but first we need to gain their trust.”
She wrinkled her nose. Gabriel Onias was as conceited as Rahm. “They hate Samaria and Samaritans. What reason do they have to go north?”
“You will help them buy supplies and introduce them to other mule train drivers and return to Herod’s camp before the end of the month with a mountain of goods.”
“Two weeks? You’re asking too much. And what happened to the agreement with High Priest Hasmond?”
Rahm raked his fingers through his combed over hair. “Just do as I say and don’t disappoint me. I’m fond of the family mule train operation and your nephews. I’d hate to see them suffer because you didn’t try hard enough.”
“We won’t have to lie to the priests, will we?”
Rahm’s fat lips curved with a grin. “You always were squeamish about stretching the truth. Just don’t mention me, and you can tell them whatever you want to soothe your conscience.”
Jacob and Isaac’s excited voices reached them. Shoshana hated Rahm’s deceitful games, but as usual, he’d left her with nothing but poor and worse choices. “Tell the priests we’ll be leaving at dawn.”
Her nephews burst into the dim circle of light. They looked between her and Rahm. Isaac’s cherub face fell. “What does...he want this time, Aunt Shosha?”
But Jacob smiled. “Uncle Rahm...are you here to take me to Egypt? You promised.”
Rahm shook his head. “Not today. But I met a merchant in Petra who wants to hire your mules. I have a few tricks I can teach you to ensure you get the best of the deal.”
Shoshana’s stomach curdled. “I don’t want you teaching Jacob how to cheat people.”
“Cheat?” Rahm scoffed. “It’s creative bargaining.”
“It’s just creative bargaining, Aunt Shosha,” Jacob repeated.
The admiration she saw in Jacob’s eyes raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Her grandfather would be devastated if Rahm lured Jacob down his corrupt path. Appeasing Rahm just made him bolder and bolder. Where had it gotten them? Sneaking through Judean hillsides. Confrontations with bandits and runaway priests. Dangerous deceptions. The time had come to stop giving into Rahm’s demands.
She went to the boys and wrapped her arms around their slim shoulders. “Come, let’s go find grandfather.”
Rahm slipped away, but the brittle coldness that came with a visit from her estranged husband would remain in her bones for days.
CHAPTER 8
Hours after her brothers had given up the wealth and privilege of upper Jerusalem for the deprivations and dangers of an army camp, Elizabeth Onias sought time alone in the tall, columned porch outside her parent’s home. The slap of cold to the face didn’t distract from her worry and heartache. Watching the slow destruction of her once strong and loving family was tearing her apart. She longed to retreat to the solitude and comfort of her bedchamber, but her mother and niece were waiting for her so they could begin their evening meal.
The evening breeze stiffened. She pulled her shawl higher.
A shadow rose from the darkened corner of the porch. She gasped and jumped. “James? What are you doing here?”
A lopsided grin in
place and black onyx eyes glittering, he shrugged. “I wasn’t in any hurry to face my father.”
She smiled back. “Thank you for offering what assistance you could to Gabriel and Leonidas.”
“I feared you might be unhappy with me for not doing more to stop them.”
“I knew something dreadful was coming. Gabriel and father had a terrible argument last Shabbat rest.”
“I promise to bring news of Gabriel and Leonidas as soon as I learn anything.”
The wind molded James’s black tunic to his rugged body. The boy who had been skin and bones and unremarkable had grown into a fine-looking man with strong arms and a broad chest. Her head didn’t even reach his shoulders. His father was a small man, but James didn’t take after Simeon Onias. Thank the heavens! Once upon a time she and James were supposed to marry. She could almost wish they had. But James had refused to do his father’s bidding.
James frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Wrong? Her thoughts were indecent. James was her stepson. Nine years ago her father had given her in marriage to James’s father. It didn’t matter that Simeon Onias had divorced her after six of the most horrible months of her life. She should not be daydreaming about James Onias.
She swallowed. “You’ve been so good to me. I’ve never properly thanked you for interceding on my behalf with your father.” Simeon Onias despised her. A few months earlier he’d tried to send her into exile. James had stepped in, promising Simeon he would be a dutiful son in exchange for Elizabeth being allowed to remain in Jerusalem. “I hope your father hasn’t been too cruel.”
James’s eyes went flat. “I was doing fairly well keeping my end of the bargain...until today. I’m sure to reap a heap of outraged insults and dire threats for embarrassing him like this.”
She dug her nails into her fisted hands. “I hate that you are suffering. If my mother and Helen didn’t need me, I wouldn’t have allowed you to make the sacrifice.”
Warring Desires (The Herod Chronicles Book 3) Page 5
