Hadwin tried to find an inn that was not fully occupied. Each house he went to had no vacancies. It was the week before Passover, and people loved to travel to Jerusalem during this time. Finally he found one inn with a stable that had a vacancy. Only enough for the guards and Abigail. Hadwin had to stay with the animals. He didn’t mind too much. It took the pressure off having to bend to their every whim.
Even in the lights of the city the stable was dark, allowing him to sleep. The bed of straw he made was a welcome reprieve from the ground on which he normally slept. The smell from the animals, on the other hand, was bad enough to wake the dead. Even so, the dead of night and total exhaustion took over, and his eyes closed and did not open until light made its appearance from behind the leather window coverings. His whole body ached as he picked himself up. His back was still tender from the lashing, and he knew he would get another one if he failed to have their provisions ready to move out.
“Why didn’t you run?”
Hadwin turned around to see Abigail standing in the entryway. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said.
“You could have run. There are ways of hiding your earlobes. Why didn’t you?”
Hadwin paused for a moment, weighing his words carefully. “You know what my family looks like. I have no doubt you will find them if I anger you. So I stayed.”
His words hung in the air.
“You truly love your daughter,” said Abigail. It was almost a question.
“She is my whole world. I would die for her.”
“And Ester, your wife?”
“Her as well.”
Hadwin went back to his work. He could feel her eyes staring at him, looking for something. A tell. A moment of weakness.
“You know I never had a father. I should say I never had a father who cared at all for his daughter.”
Hadwin stayed silent. He kept packing the horses with the provisions they had left.
Abigail turned to walk away. Hadwin saw an opportunity.
“Wait! Tell me. What would you have done if I had run?”
“I would have added you to a long list of men who have abandoned me. Then I would’ve hunted you down and had you killed.”
“You cannot buy a father’s love. You know that.”
“Who says I wanted to?”
“You did when you could have had me killed. Instead, you wanted to come to Jerusalem to see Yeshua. Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do know. I think you want what Ester and Rina have, but you don’t have the tools to find it yourself.”
“I don’t want you to be my father, if that is what you’re saying.”
“No, you just want to believe that some men can be kind. You want to know that someone out there actually cares what happens to you.”
“So, do you? Do you care?”
Hadwin paused for a moment. “I am a bondslave, am I not?”
Abigail smiled for a moment. And for a moment, Hadwin thought he spied a flicker of humanity in her eyes. “Well, there are men who can be kind, but I am incapable of kindness.”
Hadwin waited for the next sentence, which inevitably would be his sentence. It never came. He saw a tear roll down Abigail’s cheek. He was confused by his own emotions. Why and how could he feel compassion for such a creature? This woman was why his family was in hiding. She was the reason he gave up his old life to spare their lives. This woman killed some of his friends. Yet, for a moment, he felt compassion for her. Even worse, he saw Rina in her eyes.
Everything he had said was to survive. Yet there was a twinge of authenticity in his voice. A longing for normalcy that he could not hide. When he looked at Abigail, all he saw was a hurt child—a woman who had been abused by life and a survivor. He had to escape.
CHAPTER 38
Ezekiel grew adept at faking a smile. He knew Rina could read him; he was not fooling her. Still, he gave it his best effort. His mother was glad to have him around, and he could tell she felt more at ease, even with Ester and Rina. He brought some money, which was added to the coffers in the house that helped to provide for everyone. It was a small fraction of the money he kept on him. He was also careful to hide the dagger. It puzzled him that this half-breed woman would keep her promise to him. She had no reason to give the dagger to him. She could have easily made a bondservant out of him as well.
The preparations for Passover were one of the times he enjoyed most during the year. Everyone was happy that week, celebrating God passing over the houses of the faithful to vanquish the enemies of the people of God. This time of year gave him hope that God, if he was real, could do the same with the Romans. Yet he could not bring himself to thank a God who had let his father be led away in chains and injustice be done to God’s chosen people. While he no longer believed in a pantheon of gods, he decided that God must be cruel if he existed.
It took him three times longer for each task than usual. The crushing weight of finding his father and caring for those he loved left him feeling empty. The most crushing element? Leaving Hadwin to his fate with Abigail. He would have to mount a rescue once the dust settled. He didn’t know if it was arrogance or desperation that assured him that he was capable of such a task. Ezekiel was also afraid that his family would find him out. Pushing himself, he threw himself into chores so he could keep his mind off things.
He noticed Rina eying him suspiciously. He kept working, fixing the doorpost that was rotting away. He would be on the roof next, for a leak had formed in the rain. He turned his eyes from her gaze.
“You can’t avoid me this whole time. We are going to have to talk eventually,” said Rina.
“Nothing to talk about,” said Ezekiel.
“So that is how you are, just shutting me out? Nothing to talk about?”
“No. Nothing at all.”
“Did you ever think there might be some things I need to say?”
“I think you said all you needed to say the other day.”
“You surprised me. I don’t like surprises. You should know that.”
“You see, there you go. All of a sudden, I am the bad guy. You agreed to marry Asher. If it weren’t for your father, you would be married to him right now.”
Rina tried to gain her composure before answering. She failed.
“Yes, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about that. I am the one who got him killed. I have to live with that! But you have to remember who you are. You are the son of a thief who was not willing to take on the stigma. But at some point, you also have to realize that you are not your father.”
Ezekiel looked at her. His eyes betrayed his smirk as his face twisted in agony. “You know nothing of who I am.”
“Oh really! I know nothing. We grew up together, Ezekiel. You have very few other friends who can say the same. Our families are closer than relatives. And you say I know nothing of who you are. You know, I think you have lost who you are.”
She was right, and Ezekiel was very aware of the truth. A part of him died when he saw Rina in Asher’s arms. His whole life had been her. Everything he did was for her. Now her words pierced him like a dagger. He laid down his mallet and walked away. She called for him, and he ignored her. Anger boiled in his soul. How dare she talk to me like that? he thought. The path was familiar. It was like every road leading away from Jerusalem. He blamed Rina for all the pain he now felt. Not because she was guilty, but because his pain needed a target and she was the easiest one. Anything to keep from blaming himself. Tears flowed down his cheeks, a sensation he had not felt in quite a while.
Up ahead he noticed a crowd. They were shouting “Hosanna!” and waving branches. A lone figure on a donkey rode ahead.
He recognized him and hid. “I don’t want to see him right now,” he said under his breath. Then it hit him. Yeshua prophesied that someone was going to die. Was it Hadwin? His stomach sank. He did not need another death on his head. God, or the gods, would never forgive him. He found a back alley in an effort to
get away. The crowd moved right by the alley. But when he looked up, he found Yeshua had stopped and looked at him for a moment. Ezekiel froze. The sadness in Yeshua’s eyes was unmistakable. Then Yeshua clicked his heels and the crowd followed him through town. It was a few moments before Ezekiel allowed himself to move again.
Why was Yeshua sad? Everyone was praising him. Everyone looked happy to see him. Was this the revolution? Was this the moment when the Romans would be overthrown? No, it couldn’t be. The Romans were too powerful. Many nations tried and failed to overthrow the most powerful government in the world. Still, there was a growing movement. How foolish are they? he thought. He walked out of town another way. He wanted to run away, never to return.
A man walking in the opposite direction of the crowd stopped for a moment.
“Ezekiel?” It was Sittish.
“Hello, Sittish,” said Ezekiel. Not wanting to belabor the conversation, Ezekiel searched his mind for an excuse to get away.
“How are you my friend? You look good.”
“I’m doing alright,” said Ezekiel.
“You don’t sound alright,” Sittish said.
“I am fine . . . really.”
“Well, let’s see if there is a place to get something to eat around here,” said Sittish. “I know a stand that sells bread and figs.”
Ezekiel sighed and nodded. He followed the Hittite through the crowd to a place where they could each buy something to eat.
“So where are your men?”
“They returned home. Yeshua’s teachings were a little too radical for them.”
“So, what is he teaching now?” asked Ezekiel as they found a place along the road to sit and talk.
“Many of them don’t like the idea of forgiving your enemies. We have many enemies, and they have perpetrated unspeakable crimes against our people. So, they left.” Sittish smiled and popped a date into his mouth.
“So why are you still here?” Ezekiel asked.
“I’m not sure I know how to answer that question. His way of teaching intrigues me. I think it is a nice thought, forgiving others,” said Sittish.
“Someone with your skill with a sword doesn’t have to.”
“You know, you are the lucky one. You have not killed anyone. You don’t have to live with the fact that you have taken someone’s life,” said Sittish.
“Believe me. I have a lot I have to live with.” Ezekiel sighed.
Sittish paused for a moment. “I guess that is why I am here. It is my last hope for forgiveness. If God or the gods look down on murder, and I think they do, then I am alright. If they look down on killing, then I am not.” A tired look came over his face. Ezekiel knew this look. He saw it in Hadwin’s face when he was conscripted into being a bondslave. He saw this moments before in the face of Yeshua. Now he saw it in Sittish as he told of having to kill and hating himself for it.
Ezekiel listened, but his thoughts drifted off as if some cloud covered the recesses of his mind. He failed to notice the sword at Sittish’s side. It was a Roman Gladius. Superb in balance and the main weapon of the centurion guard, if he had noticed it, he would have seen what was coming next. Instead, he said his goodbye and set off for home. Looking down the street he saw a group of Roman guards in formation running toward Sittish—standing like a lone warrior with the Gladius in one hand and his Hittite inspired sword in the other.
Ezekiel could only watch as the Romans threw a javelin, which Sittish cut down easily, distracting him from the blow of a centurion sneaking up from behind. The man was easily overcome by the highly trained Romans and forced to the ground and put into chains. Immediately Ezekiel knew why the man had no followers left. They were a band of thieves, and either they were caught or killed. The Romans would take this thief and make an example of him.
Ezekiel turned away and kept walking. He did not want to be associated with this thief.
CHAPTER 39
Elyam wanted to see if the repairs to the house were done. When he came to the side of their home, he found Rina still working.
“Where is Ezekiel?”
“I don’t know,” said Rina.
“What do you mean?”
“He left. We talked. He got mad and left,” she said.
“I see.”
Elyam stayed quiet for the next few moments.
“I don’t get it. Every time I want to have a conversation with him, he just walks away.”
Elyam looked up from his work, sighed, and then walked over to Rina.
“For the few years your father was on this earth, you knew he was a good man. You knew he loved you more than anything. Right?”
“Yes?”
“Ezekiel never knew that from his father. His whole life he has been fighting, trying to overcome the stigma of being the son of a thief. I’m afraid it’s a wound that does not heal fully.”
“I know he is different from his father.”
“Yes, but he doesn’t know that. He lives with fear that he will never measure up to your expectations, or anyone else’s for that matter. The good news is he hasn’t given up on trying. Have you told him that you love him?”
“That would not be proper!” said Rina.
“Well, Ezekiel has never been one to care about proper. I am just saying that it might be what it takes to reach him.” Elyam went back to working on the doorpost that Ezekiel left. He could see a tear escape the corner of Rina’s eye.
“I wish you kids would just realize that you love each other. You are made for each other.”
“You think so?”
“I do, child. Love is never easy. But it is worth it.” Elyam finished his work and walked away. When he turned the corner, he met Bathshua staring at him.
“What?” Elyam said.
“You were made for each other? Are you trying to meddle in our grandson’s affairs?” she said with a smile.
“I would like to know my grandchildren someday. Sometimes these kids need a little push. You know?” he smiled back.
“Well, be careful. Let Yahweh take care of them. He will bring them together.”
“I hope you are right.”
“Of course, I am right, my dear. Every story has its dark days before the light. Why don’t you help me bake the bread,” said Bathshua.
Elyam did as he was told. The day seem to melt into the night.
Ezekiel took his time coming home. He hoped that everyone would be asleep by the time he got there. He was wrong. Elyam was waiting for him. The oil lamp he was holding cast shadows on every wrinkle of his face.
“I suppose you are going to lecture me now.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Did I ever tell you of my journey to Egypt?”
Ezekiel was surprised. He thought he had heard every one of his grandfather’s stories.
“No, I don’t believe so.”
“Well, it is one I don’t tell very often. It is when I met Bathshua. By the way, Bathshua is her Hebrew name. Her Egyptian name was Nefertiti. It means beauty has arrived. Her father was wanting to sell her because he incurred some debts. Oh, was she beautiful! She was bid on by everyone of substance. Some of these men had five or six wives already. So, when it came time for me to bid, I decided to do something different. I didn’t want to buy a wife. I wanted to be chosen by a wife. So, I made the highest bid. She nearly cost me everything I owned. Her father gave her to me, and I told him I wanted to have a Hebrew wedding, which could only be performed by a Rabbi. He agreed, and since there were no Rabbis in Egypt, he said that she should travel with me to Jerusalem.
“That night I came to Nefertiti and told her that she was free to leave and do as she wished. That I would never pay for a wife, I was merely paying for her freedom. She agreed to travel with me to Jerusalem and would make her decision there. She later told me that I made her feel wanted in a way she had never felt before. Every other person who bid on her made her feel like she was property. She never felt she was of any value. When she found out how much her freedom had cost me, s
he told me she would spend a lifetime to pay me back. I would not let her do that. So for the next few months she lived in my guest house. She allowed other men to court her, and boy was I jealous. But I knew that if she were to choose me, I would have a love that would last a lifetime. Finally, she came to me and said, ‘I am ready.’ ‘For what?’ I asked. She said, ‘To make your people my people.’ I knew then that she had chosen, not just me, but to make a life with me. She was baptized before Yahweh and her name was changed to Bathshua. She became my wife, and I have lived the happiest life with her that I could ever hope for.”
“So, you are saying I shouldn’t get angry because Rina chose another.”
“She was forced into slavery. Circumstances brought her out of it. I am sorry for Hadwin. I think she still grieves for him.”
All the blood drained from Ezekiel’s face. He had taken away the one chance for Rina to have her father back.
“I don’t think Rina would choose me.”
“Only if you would not choose yourself. Ask yourself, if you were Rina, would you choose you? I think you probably would. You are a hard worker. Provider. I believe she loves you.”
“If you knew half the things I’ve done, you wouldn’t think so.”
“Ezekiel, no one in this world is innocent. Some are just better than others at hiding it. Rina loves you. The question is do you love her enough to give her the choice?” Elyam rose from his seated position with a groan. “I am tired. I think I’ll go to bed now.”
______________
The next morning, Ezekiel rose with a start. He had overslept. The sun was now in full color, and the family was milling about doing chores. Wiping his eyes and shaking his head, he felt as though he had too much wine the night before. He decided to return to the work he was doing the day before, but to his surprise it was already done. Elyam needed me and I let him down, he thought.
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