by Sandi Rog
After the last stroke with the knife against his skin, Alexander cupped water in his hands from the bowl. He rinsed his cheeks, his jaw and upper lip. Rinsing to make sure he didn’t miss any hair. He cupped the water in his hands again, holding it up to his face and splashed water on it. He looked awful. His face was dark, but where his whiskers had been, his skin was light. Such a stark contrast. Maybe she wouldn’t recognize him because of the lightness of his skin? He rubbed his jaw. But the jawline was more pronounced, revealing each angle and curve, so maybe that would help. It better help. As he cupped more water in his hands, he noticed how his light palms matched his chin. His hands. He looked at their backs. They were dark, but the palms were still white. He looked up at his reflection.
He knew what would convince her.
Ω
Elianna sat on the ground outside Alexander’s tent. She could hardly believe everything that had happened in the last week. Here she’d thought her father dead all these years, and now she realized they’d been following him this whole time. No wonder Pappous never took her to Germania. He was hoping Abba would finally be released so he could be with them.
She rested her cheek on her knee. She’d already said goodbye to Abba so long ago, to say goodbye again felt strange, like reopening an old wound. If only she could have seen him while he was well. But recalling the fight between Alexander and the men who took her, she never would have been comfortable watching Abba kill others. Still, she could have visited him in his cell. She would have done that. But none of that mattered now. He was gone. Truly, gone. Tears warmed her cheeks.
Where was Alexander? Where did he disappear to after he left her with Abba? It had been a long while since Abba took his last breath. She expected Alexander to be waiting for her outside his tent. She hugged her knees tighter. Pappous was gone, Titus was gone, killed by Abba’s hand. And now Abba was gone. The pain of losing Titus was the most intense, and she wiped the tears that fell for him.
Sighing, she stared off into the distance and again rested her cheek on her knee. A man walked in her direction. A Roman. She studied the familiar gait. There was only one person who walked with that confident stride, and because he wasn’t buried under all the robes and garments, she was able to recognize it. As he came near, the short black hair just long enough to brush against his cheeks became clearer, and his eyes, the blue-green of his eyes held her in their intense gaze. He stopped in front of her and knelt down.
Trembling, Elianna reached up and caressed his pale cheek. She recognized the perfect angles of his jaw and chin. Angles that now belonged to a man, not a boy. “I know your face,” she whispered.
Smiling, he grabbed her hands and held them next to his own, palms up. “They’re the same color.” Then to her astonishment, he slowly raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, sending tingles of pleasure down the length of her arm.
More tears flooded her eyes. “Zander.”
“Oh, yeah.” Zander released a short chuckle. “Zander.” He shook his head as if chastising himself for not thinking of it sooner then he shrugged. “But everyone knew that.”
She nodded, tears blurring her vision, but she quickly wiped them away, not wishing to miss the beautiful face in front of her. “Why didn’t you answer my letter?”
Zander furrowed his brows, those wonderful familiar brows. “What letter?”
“I sent you a letter shortly after Mamma and Abba … shortly after Mamma died.”
Shaking his head, he looked down then back up at her, a light in his eyes. “What name did you address it to?”
Elianna caught the humor in his gaze, and that’s when she remembered holding the stylus and writing a Z for Zander when she addressed it. “Oh,” she said, realizing her mistake and wanting to kick herself. “What was I thinking?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m here now.” Zander cupped her face in his hands. “And you’re more beautiful than I ever imagined. Please, Elianna. Please be my wife, this day.”
“You still want to marry me, after everything I put you through?”
“Like I said, I feel like we’re already married.” He grinned, a wonderful smile now that it wasn’t hidden beneath so much hair.
Elianna giggled.
He cocked a half-grin, and her cheeks grew warm. Tenderly, he pulled her to her feet, lifted her into his arms, and spun her around. He stopped and said, “You are bound to me, Elianna. Bound to me as long as we live.”
Seeing the urgency in his gaze, and knowing without a doubt that this was her wonderful Zander, and she was his wife, Elianna smiled at his shaven, half-white face. “You know,” she said, teasing him, “you didn’t have to shave it off.”
Growling, he looked to the sky. “Don’t tell me that.”
Snickering, Elianna reached to touch his face. He looked down at her, and she flashed him a teasing smile.
He nuzzled his face in her neck and chuckled.
epilogue
Trier, Germania—two years later
Alexander stood outside the door of his father’s house, Maximus Demetrius Arnensis II. After much searching and inquiring, they learned he’d lost his wife a year earlier to an illness. Ever since then, Demetri had lived alone, not engaging in society or the social aspects of life. They’d already found Sarah, and in fact, learned numerous aspects of the city from her. Trier was known for its wines, and the rolling green vineyards outside the city were testimony to that fact.
Alexander had commissioned to have his own villa built on a high hill northeast of the city. It was perfect country for his horses to breed and roam. In the meantime, they stayed in their tents in a plot allotted to them outside the gates.
Before they set off for Trier, he had taken Elianna to meet his grandfather in the desert, only to discover he’d died not long after Alexander had left. He deeply grieved the loss of the man who selflessly loved him. And because Elianna wanted to be with her aunt Sarah, Alexander agreed to bring her here. The same place his father lived.
Mohar and Haru chose to stay with Alexander, and so they came with him, bringing their new families to Trier. Because he didn’t want Demetri to be threatened by his unexpected presence, Alexander left his men with the tents, only bringing a very pregnant Elianna and their son to his father’s door. Elianna stood next to him, rubbing her belly, while little Zander’s pudgy hand squeezed one of Alexander’s fingers. He recently learned to walk, so he wanted to be a big boy when meeting his grandfather for the first time. Alexander prayed it would be a positive meeting, if not for himself, for his boy, and that Demetri wouldn’t be drunk after having lost his wife.
He’d decided to find his father, not in hopes of receiving the fatherly love he’d longed for throughout his childhood, but in hopes of giving his father the love that he so desperately needed. Really, in the hopes of saving his soul. Ironic that Alexander would try to help his father find salvation when he had wanted him to rot in hell for most of his life. Alexander sighed. It would be much more comfortable taking the easy route. He’d lived this long without Demetri, and he would be perfectly content to go on in life without him. But he knew this was God’s work, what He wanted, so what Alexander wanted didn’t matter. Elohim wanted all to come to repentance and be saved. So, who was Alexander to keep it from his own father? Alexander would, after all, be the best one to reach him … for Alexander had the most to forgive. If he could forgive his father, what better way for Demetri to see the forgiveness mankind had received from Jesus?
He had to admit, the time away made this moment easier. And despite the fact that Alexander no longer expected his father’s love, his offer to forgive might still be painful … because that quiet ache to be loved would never die.
Casting a side glance at Elianna and absorbing her encouraging smile, Alexander faced the door again. Would he be well received? He would soon find out. If not, it would be Demetri’s loss. After so much time on his own, time away from the man who caused him the most grief, Alexander knew he would be all righ
t. No matter what happened.
Taking a deep breath, Alexander knocked. It was a small house compared to where Demetri had lived in Rome. Much smaller, and with fewer slaves. The fact that the house had splinters on the doorpost, a dirt-covered walkway, and an unpolished wooden frame and door handle, made Alexander wonder if he had any slaves at all.
The door creaked open, and Alexander straightened, rubbing his little Zander’s gripping fingers between his own.
A sober man peered out the door, his blond hair streaked with gray, and his tired green eyes resting above sagging cheeks. What happened to the handsome man Alexander once knew?
Alexander straightened.
Demetri looked at him, studying him hard, eyes narrowed. Alexander forced himself not to rub the whiskers growing on his chin and cheeks. He promised Elianna to never fully grow back his beard, but she allowed him at least a scruff. Would Demetri recognize him? Perhaps Alexander should have shaved? He wore his Bedouin clothes, but he figured with Demetri’s past with his mother, he’d recognize the attire for what it was, a part of Alexander.
“Son,” Demetri said, almost breathless and straightening to his full height. “I’d know your face anywhere, boy.” But the wary look on Demetri’s face as his gaze darted around them, likely looking for threats, bolstered the unspoken question, What do you want?
Stunned that his own father would recognize him when so many of his loved ones in the past hadn’t, Alexander forgot what he intended to say. So, the first words to fall from his mouth, surprised even him. “Hi, Father.” It came out on its own, but it was still uncomfortable on his tongue.
Snapping back to his senses, Alexander held out his hand, but little Zander scurried forward and ran into Demetri’s legs. “Pappous!” he said in Greek.
Alexander reached to stop his son, but he pulled back when Demetri bent and patted the boy with quivering hands. “What is this?” He lifted him off the ground and stood, holding Zander in his arms.
Alexander swallowed as he cast a nervous glance at Elianna who smiled at Zander and Demetri.
“Umm … a peace offering,” Alexander said, and he coughed.
Demetri, eyes wide, looked at Elianna then at Alexander.
“I thought you might like to meet your grandson.” Alexander cleared his throat. “Your family.”
Demetri studied little Zander and ran his long, trembling fingers over the boy’s dark head, his rings contrasting against his thin, pale fingers and Zander’s ebony hair. Shame filling his countenance, he glanced at Alexander then back down, his green eyes welling with tears.
“Why are you doing this?” Demetri’s voice choked.
Alexander thought about his question. Why was he doing this? Suddenly, the answer came. “Because Somebody loves you.”
THE END
Soli Deo Gloria
Dear Reader,
I realize this book wasn’t one of those “light reads.” I thought of cutting the difficult scenes to spare sensitive readers, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I felt it would be a disservice to those who have suffered. Having grown up with abuse (and knowing there are so many out there who’ve experienced the horrors of life), my prayer is to reach those who’ve suffered, to show them how God can work things out for good to those who love Him. I pray it will teach them to hold on to the Lord, to cling to Him in times of trouble, trusting that He will work it all out for our spiritual good (Romans 8.28). So, no matter how beaten down you get, no matter how many blows you take, keep the faith and don’t let the Evil One win this fight (Ephesians 6.10–18).
I’d like to share with you why I used Yahshua and not the more common Yeshua. You see, Yahshua is the Hebrew translation of Jesus’ name. The popular “Hebrew” usage today is Yeshua, but after doing a ton of research, I discovered that Yahshua is actually closer in accuracy to the Hebrew. Yeshua is really the “Greek” transliteration of Yahshua. Because Jesus was Hebrew, I wanted the closest translation to the Hebrew. Also, YAHshua is more similar to YAHweh. See the likeness? Since Jesus is one with the Father, I felt this translation made a lot of sense. Plus, I just love having Jesus’ name on the front of my book!
Also, I don’t claim to know what heaven looks like. All the scenes and dialogue relating to what happens to a Christian’s soul when they die is intended to be speculative. I simply used a literary device to describe the spiritual environment, portraying a romantic view of the joy that would happen once a Christian passes from this life. Really, it’s going to be a trillion times better than anything written in this book.
Thank you for joining me on this walk through Alexander, Elianna, David and Alethea’s lives. I pray you’ve been encouraged. Remember, it’s not all about what can be seen, so keep the faith!
In Him,
Sandi
WHAT NO EYE HAS SEEN, WHAT NO EAR HAS HEARD, AND
WHAT NO HUMAN MIND HAS CONCEIVED—THESE THINGS
GOD HAS PREPARED FOR THOSE WHO LOVE HIM.
—PAUL, AN APOSTLE OF JESUS CHRIST—
acknowledgments
Of course, I must acknowledge You, first and foremost, my Lord. While I’ve prayed over so much of this and I’ve done my best to be pleasing to You, I also know I’ve written about things I know little of, simply because You’ve kept it from us. I pray those scenes of angels and heaven help people to simply understand the meaning of Ephesians 6 and draw them closer to You, realizing this fight on earth is not against flesh and blood.
To my Wendy flower. My editor and best friend. Going through these edits has been the most uncertain and frightening. Not because there were so many misspellings and typos (may it never be!), but because we didn’t know if we’d ever get to finish them. I know it wasn’t easy, flower, but God brought us to the end. Thank you for holding my hand through it all.
To Ken Craig who begged to be in my acknowledgements since he couldn’t play the part of a Roman soldier. But seriously, thank you so much for all your feedback. And for helping to make all of this happen.
And to my family. To my kids for loving this story before it even got published, and to my husband for standing by my side every step of the way. Karsten, thank you for teaching me what it means to love.
Look for
The Father’s Rock
book three of
Iron and the Stone
Fall 2013
For a full listing of DeWard Publishing
Company books, visit our website:
www.deward.com
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PUBLISHING COMPANY
About the Author
Sandi Rog is an award-winning author. Her work has appeared in Christian Woman Magazine, Affaire de Coeur, Sister Triangle and Writer’s Digest. She has also written several children’s stories and has given writing workshops at schools. She’s a professional writer and editor and has spoken at Christian ladies retreats both in the United States and Europe. She lived in Holland for thirteen years and now lives in her home state of Colorado with her husband, four children, a cat and too many spiders.