“But what does it mean?”
The healer turned a dark eye on her as she held a shaky hand toward Jesse. “It is well we rid our camp of him before Suph gets his hands on him again. We’ll all perish of fire and brimstone if he dies. No more questions, child. Some things are best left unspoken.” She turned to Jesse. “And you, you should not encourage her. Her life is precarious as it is.”
“I want to know, Dara.” She glanced at the belt in her hand before turning pleading eyes to Jesse. “I need to know.”
His gaze danced between her and the healer. His lips parted as if he were about to say something, but they were interrupted as Bilhah ducked into the tent.
Abigail turned toward her. “Are all asleep?”
Bilhah nodded. “Those that linger are too drunk to have their wits. Let’s hope Suph will not chase after us for some time.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. Her cousin had never liked the captain. “Grab your things.”
“What of my uncle Elam?”
“He is drunk.” Bilhah picked up a bag and draped it over her shoulder.
“Here.” Dara thrust a plain tunic at her. “You must change.”
“Of course.”
Once again, the healer covered Jesse’s eyes. Abigail wrapped the belt around her waist and clipped it closed. She slipped the wooden box with Jesse’s gem nestled inside into a bag. It was all she needed, nothing more. Bilhah tugged the veil from Abigail’s head and wrapped her hair into a knot. She then tied a plain linen cloth around her head much like Dara’s. A piece braided over the top of her head and tucked in the back.
“Come, Abigail. Micah is waiting.” Bilhah parted the tent.
Shaking her head, Abigail rooted her feet. “Not without him.”
Bilhah dropped her hands to her sides. “We cannot take him with us. He’ll slow us down.”
“He has given his word to help me.”
Bilhah assessed Jesse. “He cannot even lift his head from the pillows, how is he to help?”
“He’ll guide us and he’ll tell me the truth.”
Bilhah’s eyes widened. “I will tell you what you want to know, but we must go. Now.”
“Not without him,” she repeated.
Bilhah paced to her and grabbed hold of her hand. “Why is he important to you, Abigail?”
Abigail’s lashes brushed against her cheeks. How could she explain to Bilhah, a woman who’d served her mother’s false gods all this time, that this man could tell her the truth not only about her family, but about his God? She pressed her fingers against the indentations on the belt and bit down on her lip. She opened her eyes and looked at her cousin. They’d shared the same nurse. Perhaps Bilhah would remember Shema’s words, as well. “Because he knows,” she whispered as she eyed Dara.
“Knows what?”
“Yahweh.”
Dara began another fit of muttering. Bilhah looked as if she did not believe her. She glanced at Jesse. Abigail willed her cousin to believe. To hope in the stories told them by a beloved nurse as she had tucked them into bed.
Bilhah shook her head. “The people believe this God of his is dead.”
“It is not so.” Jesse’s voice cut through the silence.
“You are nothing but a rebel, willing to sacrifice Abigail’s life to meet your end.” She looked at Abigail and squeezed her hands. “When the temple guards stormed the palace, there was a moment when I thought...” Her gaze darted to Jesse. “I thought He might live, that his God might rescue us, but here we are cast from our home and at the mercy of a madman if we do not leave now.”
“Bilhah, you said earlier this God would show no mercy.”
Her cousin gave her another reassuring squeeze. “You are correct. I did say such things, but now I have to wonder...”
“In time, you will see God has never left Judah.” Jesse eased off the pillows.
“I cannot risk Abigail’s life. If Suph discovers what we’ve done this night, he will kill her.” Bilhah wrapped her arm around Abigail’s shoulders.
“Ach, he’ll kill all of us, no doubt.”
Her cousin leaned away from her and peered into her eyes. “It is why we must leave now.”
“Bilhah, I will not leave him.”
Her cousin sucked in a breath. “He cannot even stand on his own. How is he supposed to travel across the rough terrain?”
“The old woman is quite the healer,” Jesse said as he rose to his full height.
“You—you are well?” Abigail trembled. She wrapped her arms around her waist. The musky scent of sandalwood cloaked her. She felt protected in his tunic.
Hard lines formed on his brow and near the corners of his eyes. He swayed and she reached out to steady him but he waved her off.
“I am well enough to leave this place.”
Bilhah nodded. “Fine, we will take him. However, if he falls he stays where he lands. We will not stop.”
Sweat beaded on his face and he swayed once again. “I would not expect you to.”
Abigail knew better than to argue, but if he fell, she’d stay with him, no matter what Bilhah thought.
* * *
Jesse sucked in a breath and girded his loins. He pressed his palm against the stabbing in his side. It took all his strength to stand, even more to speak without slurring his words. The pounding in his head roared with a vengeance and the pain in his ribs felt as if he were being severed in two. He was beginning to think the old woman’s herbs hadn’t dulled his senses and perhaps he’d been knocked in the head too hard.
“Ach, are you able to walk?”
Clenching his jaw, he nodded. The old woman must have seen the way he gripped his side for she dug into her bag and pulled several long strips of linen from its depths.
“Bilhah, hold on to him while I wrap this around his ribs.”
“We do not have time.”
The old woman’s beady eyes pierced the shrine priestess. “He’ll move quicker if I bind the breaks.”
“Very well, be quick.” Bilhah wrapped his arm around her shoulder to steady him.
“You were more charitable earlier.”
Bilhah glanced at Abigail and then glared at him. “That was before I discovered you would have us killed.”
“He cannot help his wounds. It is not Jesse’s fault Suph captured him.” Abigail twisted her hands together.
Jesse growled. It was his fault. He should have been alert to his surroundings and taken heed of the warnings that there was a faithful remnant to the deceased queen who would seek to harm King Joash and remove him from the throne. Jesse shouldn’t have stopped for rest and fallen asleep before returning to Jerusalem. However, Jesse had not been wise to the threat. In his arrogance he believed all of Judah celebrated the new king and the removal of all idol worship. How wrong he had been. As each of his wounds testified.
“That does not mean we have to save him, Abigail. You always were one to rescue the weak.”
Her taunt wounded his pride. He puffed out his chest and quickly deflated it when his ribs sliced at his innards.
“Hold still, boy,” Dara said as she began wrapping the linen. “Suck in your air and hold it.” She pulled the linen tight. After wrapping three layers and tying the ends, she held out a tunic to Bilhah. “Can you—”
“I’ll do it.” He grabbed the tunic from Dara’s hands. “If I cannot dress myself, I might as well wait for your captain to sleep off his stupor and kill me.”
He gathered the ends of the tunic to the neck and dipped his head, thankful Suph had not crushed his hands. He slipped the tunic over his head. Dara handed him a braided belt, which he tied around his waist with great effort. Every movement caused him discomfort, but the bindings around his ribs seemed to sturdy his midsection and lessen the pain. At least now he could bre
athe without too much difficulty.
Bilhah stuck her head out the tent flaps and then waved them forward. Abigail, seemingly anxious and excited, if the curve of her lips was any indication, rushed out behind her. Dara held the opening of the tent back and motioned for Jesse to exit. He ducked, the movement causing him to lean a little too far forward. Digging his feet into the ground, he rocked back to steady himself. Dara’s aged palm flattened against his back. “Do not crush me, boy.”
He smiled. “I will try not to.”
They skirted along the edge of the tent and made their way out of the silent camp. The large crackling fire cast their shadows before them as if to lead their way. A horse whinnied, another snorted as they proceeded through the maze of tents with as much silence as possible. Warmth rushed into his cheeks; if they got caught escaping he knew it would be his fault, considering his gait was unsteady. How was he to protect this queen’s daughter, a shrine priestess and an old woman?
Sweat beaded on his forehead and he raised the back of his hand to wipe it away. Soon they’d take on Micah and Dara’s two boys. If God had any mercy, they’d be of some help. However, he had a feeling the boys were no older than Micah.
After what seemed like half an hour’s time but was mayhap only ten laborious minutes, Jesse spotted a lone tree. Shadows began to separate from the trunk, appearing now as if there were three trees. Jesse swiped at the sweat pouring into his eyes and tried to focus on the images. One tree, not three. He gritted his teeth. His brothers had given him beatings during training when he was a boy and he’d received many wounds in battle, but he’d never been sliced open so many times at once. The wounds must be taking their toll if he was imagining things.
His muscles began to shake more viciously with each step. His legs reminded him of honey outside an earthen jug, with no real substance to hold its shape. He was about to give up and lie down on the rocky desert when an odd noise pierced through the thundering ache in his head. He narrowed his eyes into the dark and fought for focus.
Bilhah and Abigail halted their steps. Dara ran into his back. He clapped his hand over her mouth before she could “ach” him and waited. Another low-pitched chatter skirted down his spine. The mimicked sound of a bird did not belong to an animal, but a human. He grabbed for his sword and met his hip before recalling Suph had taken his weapons when he’d captured him.
Biting back his foolishness for once again letting down his guard, he pulled Abigail and Bilhah behind him. It was one thing to be captured while in the presence of his traitorous uncle, quite another with harmless women. He motioned for them to crouch low and was surprised to find even Dara do his bidding. Two behemoth-sized apparitions separated from that tree. Swordlike shadows rose from their sides as they crept toward where Jesse and the women crouched. God, I need Your help.
Jesse moved forward. His gaze focused on the armed men. “Who goes there?” He mustered the strength to keep his voice steady. Blood pumped hard in his chest as he waited for their answer. How was he to take on two armed men in his condition?
“Nathan and Jonathan.”
“Ach.” Dara’s whisper rippled through the tension. She rose and tried to rush past Jesse.
Jesse grabbed her arm. “Do you wish to meet your Maker?”
She swatted at his hand. “From my own sons? I think not.”
Abigail’s quiet laugh caused him to relax as she and Bilhah skipped behind Dara. He tried to keep his eyes on Abigail’s proud shoulders, on the veil swaying across her back, but his vision darkened. A tremor raced over his muscles and his legs quaked.
“The horses are beyond the rise. We did not think it wise to keep them within sight of the camp,” one of Dara’s boys said.
The display of wisdom by Dara’s boys released some of the tension from his shoulders. Jesse breathed out a sigh of relief that Abigail seemed to be in capable hands. If only they knew how to get her out of the captain’s reach, then he could give in to the nothingness beckoning him from the grave.
Jesse rocked back on his heels, his head snapping back. He looked up at the twilight sky and breathed deeply. He exhaled, closed his eyes and fell to the ground. Air stole from his lungs. His ribs jolted his innards at the impact. Rocks invaded the cuts and scrapes, pierced his flesh anew and jarred his already thundering head. “Lord, take me into Thy eternal sleep, if You will.”
“Are you well?”
He didn’t need a firebrand or the light of the moon to know Abigail leaned over him. He didn’t need the thundering in his head to halt in order to hear her voice. He could smell the scent of her, feel the way her jasmine scent made the air seem lighter. A peace cloaked him. A peace that came from her genuine concern, for no woman outside of his family had ever cared to ask if he was well.
He reached his hand up and ran his fingers along the curve of her jaw. She shivered beneath his touch, and he smiled. If he died this moment, he’d go a happy man. For what more could a man ask for than to be cared for by such a beautiful and kind woman? “I am.”
Chapter Seven
Abigail plopped down beside him and tucked his hand into hers. A warm sensation fluttered in her chest. “I am happy you are well.”
The corner of his lip curved upward and she wondered what he looked like beneath the swelling and bruises. If fate shined on her, he would not be handsome. Not at all. For why would a handsome man wish to court her even if she was a princess...or a queen.
“You cannot stay here, Abigail.”
“I will not leave you.”
His eyes slid shut and for a moment she thought he might be sleeping. If it weren’t for the warmth of his hand or the pulse in his palm, she’d weep.
“Abigail, listen to me. Go with Dara’s sons. They will take you to Jerusalem.”
“She cannot go to the City of David now.” Bilhah stood near, her arms crossed over her stomach.
“You are right. Suph is sure to have spies. If she is found—” He coughed, his body jerking with each movement.
“Come, Abigail, we must not tarry.” Bilhah reached down and grabbed her upper arm.
Abigail shook her head. “I told you I will not leave him.”
“Just as well, if Suph found him he’d know you tried to help him escape instead of his kidnapping you.” She waved her hand and Dara’s sons approached. “Carry him to the horses. We must figure out how he’ll stay seated.”
Nathan and Jonathan knelt on either side of Jesse and hefted him to his feet. They carried him toward the tree.
Bilhah reached down and helped Abigail stand. They followed behind Dara’s sons and Jesse. “I do not know what it is about this prisoner for you to act so.”
“He is a Levite, Bilhah.”
She shook her head. “What does that matter to you? Elam is a Levite.”
“Aye, but Elam has wickedness burning in his eyes. Jesse does not.” Not even when he was angry or in agonizing pain. “Do you not remember the stories Shema told? Do you not remember the God she spoke of?”
“Yes, of course I do, but what does Shema have to do with Him?”
“Did you ever wonder why Shema left us?”
Bilhah halted, holding on to Abigail’s hand. “Shema did not leave us, Abigail. She died.”
“Died?” Abigail turned toward her cousin. “My mother told me she left.”
Abigail wouldn’t tell her cousin that Shema could no longer abide such a gangly child and thus abandoned them. Those reasons were too painful, especially since Shema had seemed to be kind and loving. Nothing at all like Abigail’s mother.
“No. Shema died. She was killed. Somehow she had angered your father and he ordered her death.”
Abigail jerked her hand from Bilhah’s and walked away. She slowed once she was near Jesse. Bilhah grabbed her arm and swung her around. “Abigail, I am sorry.”
Abigail swiped at her tears, disbelief washing over her even as guilt bore down upon her shoulders at hearing what she knew in her heart to be true. “Why? Why did he kill her?”
Bilhah hung her head and began to walk away, but Abigail caught her. “Tell me the truth, Bilhah. That is all I want. I have no notions that my father was good. I heard rumors that he killed his brothers, but why, why so much blood on his hands?”
Jesse shook from Nathan and Jonathan’s hold. “Your father killed his brothers because he feared they’d take his kingdom.”
Abigail believed he spoke the truth, but how was it this stranger knew the reasons when she did not? Because she’d been kept locked in a chamber away from all who might realize Athaliah had a plain daughter with big eyes—green eyes—and was too tall by far. She looked to Bilhah. “Why did he have Shema killed?”
“Because he feared she would turn you against him.”
Abigail’s brow furrowed. “She never spoke of my father, good or ill.”
“No. However, she did speak of God, the one your father forced from Judah.”
Something in Abigail’s heart lurched. She glanced between Jesse, who leaned heavily on one of Dara’s sons, and Bilhah. For once her cousin spoke the truth. “Is that why he killed his brothers. Your father? Because they believed in the one true God?”
The sliver of moon illuminated the sadness flitting across Bilhah’s face. “We must go before anyone realizes we are gone.”
Abigail unwittingly looked toward the camp. Glimmers of white tents stood off the desert and reached into the sky. The glow of the fire continued to burn as her curiosity burned. She’d been hidden away, kept from so much; she wanted to know the truth and she wanted to know now. However, she did not know what Dara had tainted the wine with. The more time they remained close to camp, the less time they had to escape.
“Let us go, then. Soon you will give me the answers I seek, Bilhah.” She looked at Jesse. “You, too.” Somehow she knew once he regained his strength she’d not be able to command him. He was not the type to obey orders but rather give them. She knew that in the way he spoke and the way he tried to carry himself as if he was used to commanding an army.
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