Christina Rich - The Guardian's Promise

“Sleep well, Ima.” Mira slipped off her sandals outside her door and entered the women’s sleeping chamber with a heavy heart. The urge to fall prostrate overwhelmed her, an urge driven not only by her thoughts of Ari but from some sudden weight of fear that her life was about to change. Soon her father would pass from this life, and it seemed, soon she’d be the wife of a man who could not stand the sight of her.

She unfastened the girdle holding close her outer tunic. She slipped the heavier linen from her shoulders and folded the fabric before laying it on a small wooden stool. Careful not to disturb her cousin Tama, the servants and the young children, she stepped over their sleeping bodies and crawled onto her mat and beneath her blanket. Sleep would elude her, or at least until she worried her mind to exhaustion. “God, bring peace to my heart. Help me to trust in You and Your ways.” She knew she could not control the future, but this feeling of foreboding would not release the hold it had on her.

“And, God, protect my family from the queen’s men if they choose to return.” An image of Ari standing against the guards pressed into her mind. “Give Ari the strength to keep us safe.”

Once she spoke her request, the burden on her heart lightened and she breathed a sigh of relief. No matter what occurred on the morrow, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob would be with them.

“And, God,” she whispered into the night. “If I’ve found favor in Your eyes, please keep me from a distasteful marriage.”

Chapter Seven

“I do not remember my fields being so vast.”

“Do you wish to rest awhile?” Ari tugged on the donkey’s lead to slow him down.

“Are you tired, Ari? Do you wish to rest your feet again?” Caleb grinned down at him as if he knew the real reason Ari had earlier claimed aching feet. Ari’s feet were used to long walks, but Caleb, even riding a donkey, was not used to long minutes outside of his chamber.

Even though Caleb’s mind was that of a young man, his body was far from it. The ashen hue of his master’s cheeks proved as much. Ari should have insisted he stay abed, but Caleb had been adamant about seeing his crops. After all, Caleb argued, he may never get another chance to see a harvest.

“We are close to the end, adon,” Ari encouraged. “Then we can rest before heading back home.” Even though they had been gone less than an hour, he knew his master needed the rest. However, Ari could not halt the gnawing in his belly that had existed ever since they had left the walls of the village. A sickening sensation, which grew worse with each passing moment.

“Then we press on, my son.”

Ari rolled his shoulders to wear off the uneasiness tensing his muscles and tugged on the donkey’s lead. They descended a pass and encountered a few servants tending the crops. The servants watched them, curious as to why their master had traveled so far from his bed. Ari bowed his head and focused on the path. He, too, wondered why Caleb chose this day to see his legacy. Certainly it was more than a dying man’s wish to see his fields once more.

“Shalom.” Caleb’s toothless smile greeted his servants.

Each bowed their heads in return.

A sense of foreboding returned with a vengeance as they passed the small group. His nape pricked as if he crawled around in a bush of thorns. Someone watched him. Temptation to investigate further tugged on his innards. But he did not wish to alert whomever it was observing them.

Ari chastised himself for his foolishness. Surely, the heat boring between his shoulders was only his imagination. Caleb was a kind master, his servants loyal. None would dare harm him, would they?

“It is guilty, I am for not allowing the fields the rest required by the law,” Caleb said, gripping the donkey’s short mane for support. “I do not think it would have gone unnoticed by the queen’s spies.” He lowered his voice. “I fear I will not see Judah restored...”

The sadness in Caleb’s voice choked Ari.

Caleb wiped his brow. “I am glad we did not travel to Hebron. It would have taken us a week there and back at this pace.” He coughed. “I fear it is not the same.”

The city, once a center of worship, bore the scars of Athaliah’s hand. An Asherah pole had even been erected at Abraham’s tomb. The queen’s faithful often defiled the holy place with sins comparable to Sodom and Gomorrah. “Jerusalem is no different,” Ari mused aloud.

“Ah, is that where you are from?” Caleb tilted his white peppery beard and peered down at him. Curiosity was not the only thing that shone in his black eyes. It was as if he asked Ari to have faith in him. To trust him. But Ari’s secrets were not his alone to keep. However, admitting he hailed from Jerusalem would harm nobody. At least he hoped not.

“You could say. Yet I’ve been bedding down in the desert for a few years, now.” Ari smiled at his master.

“Yes, so it seems you have.” Caleb laughed. His laughter quickly changed to a bout of coughing, and Ari worried if his master would return home to his family, or if he would perish here and now. Ari pulled the stopper from the bladder of water and touched the edge against Caleb’s lips.

“Better?” Ari asked once Caleb’s chest settled.

“Thank you, my son.” Caleb laid his hand against Ari’s shoulder. The unspoken meaning went straight to his heart. It was like a searing brand sizzling deep into his being. How could he disappoint this man? Even if his presence here was a lie, he had come to love Caleb and his family. But his duty to God, his duty to his kingdom and his secrets, kept him from staying. Kept him from accepting Mira as his bride.

Ari bowed his head. “I am unworthy, adon.”

Caleb slid off the donkey’s back before Ari could help him. He pressed his hands on either side of Ari’s face and looked him in the eye for long moments and then nodded as if pleased with what he saw. “I’ve never seen a more worthy man than you, Ari.”

The searing in his chest returned, thrusting deeper, encompassing the whole of his breast. Caleb’s words were like a hammer upon his conscience. Like an earthen jar crushed beneath the weight of a boulder. It was more than he could bear. Lord, give me strength.

“I will not press,” Caleb said. “Come, sit beneath the shade with me awhile.”

Ari looped the donkey’s lead around a low branch and eased beside Caleb. High clouds shadowed parts of the rocky outcrops while the sun illuminated others, leaving them more mysterious to the eye. He had no doubt the shadows held many secrets, much like his heart.

“We are far from prying ears, Ariel.” He turned his gaze fully on him, piercing Ari to the core.

Ari held his breath. He was not ready—

“I could not be more certain.” Hands clenched, Caleb paused. “I am certain...

“Certain about what, adon?”

* * *

Hefting a cruse containing oil from last year’s crop of olives, Mira carried it toward the bake oven where she intended to brush a small amount to each cake of bread.

“Why so downcast, Mira?” Rubiel asked as she placed an earthen jar on the ground in front of her.

Mira pressed her lips together. Ari and her father had not been gone long and she missed them. Missed him. Feared his absence if the soldiers should return.

“It is difficult, I know but you must do your duty to Abba and marry Esha.” Rubiel leaned close. “I saw the way you watched the slave last eve. I contend he’s handsome but he is a slave, Mira. You must remove your heart from him.”

The cruse slipped from Mira’s hand, shattering on the ground. She thrust her hands on her hips and glared at her sister as oil oozed over her feet. It would do no good to argue the condition of her heart or where it lay. She had watched him with new eyes, and her heart was curious. Perhaps, even interested a little if the increased beat in his presence was any indication. “He is not a slave.”