The Warrior's Vow

by Christina Rich

  Strong hands gripped her upper arms and pulled her out of the water. She brought up her hands and once again pushed her hair from her face. She sucked in a sharp breath as she looked into the cold eyes of Suph’s second-in-command.

  “Hello, Princess.”

  She wriggled and kicked at his shins, but he turned her so her back was against his chest and pressed a blade against her throat, cutting off her scream.

  “Toss your sword aside, Reuel.” The hardness of his voice vibrated through her. She clutched at his arm, trying to loosen his hold. His hot breath fanned her ear. “Halt right now or I will kill the princess.”

  Reuel’s gaze filled with apologies as he tossed his sword to the ground. None of this was his fault. That could be laid at the madness plaguing Suph. If they were here, had something happened at camp? Had something happened to Jesse? She renewed her struggle and the blade bit deeper into her neck. A tear slipped from her eye as a warm rivulet of blood slid down her neck. Reuel jumped into the creek; the other two guards jumped on top of him.

  “Halt! I warned you, Princess. I will not do so another time. The captain no longer has need of you.” He loosened his hold and she gasped for air. “Bind his hands and feet, then leave him in the water.”

  “No!” She twisted around, swinging her arms wide and hard. The guard’s hold slackened and she fell into the water next to Reuel, who was being held by the other two guards.

  “Grab her.”

  She fought against the water and tried scrambling away. One of the soldiers grabbed the back of her tunic. His arm caught around her midsection, forcing the air from her lungs. He straightened and pulled her out of the water.

  “Leave her be.”

  Abigail blinked and tried to peer through the wayward strands of hair once again dangling in her face. “Jesse?”

  “Aye, Princess.” There was a bit of commotion, which she could not see through her hair and the near dark night, before the man released her. Her body rocked forward and she fell back into the creek, pebbles poking her knees. She shoved the hair from her eyes. Jesse stood on the edge of the bank, a sword raised high. She sucked in a breath at the magnificent sight. He truly looked like the fierce warrior Jonathan and Nathan had warned her about. However, he was not frightening as she’d suspected. Or perhaps he was to the men standing around her, but to her he was gloriously beautiful.

  But then she knew the man beneath the corded brawn. She knew the curve of his lips when he smiled and his compassionate heart for his people. She knew his honor and his kindness. The touch of his lips. Any woman would be fortunate to call him husband. Especially her, a discarded princess with no future to speak of. No alliance with kings and kingdoms, very little family...

  Would that be enough for Jesse, or would he be like Suph and use her to gain Judah? Aye, she knew the answer. Jesse was more likely to disappear into the sunset rather than suffer palace life.

  Suph’s second-in-command lurched forward. A large arrow struck the ground between his feet. Abigail rose and the moving water rushed around her hips, rocking her with the force. Her tunic clung to her like a newborn kitten. For the first time she noticed Jesse was not alone. Isa and Ianatos, as well as several large shadows, surrounded them.

  “Let Reuel go.” Jesse’s tone gave no quarter. The guard confining Reuel released him and then moved out of the water. Reuel grabbed hold of her hand and helped her onto the bank. She had hoped to fall into Jesse’s comforting arms, to hear the sound of his pulse beat beneath her ear, to feel his heart with her palm. But even in the waning light she could see Jesse’s gaze travel from her feet to her head. His lip curled and his eye twitched in what seemed like irritation.

  Releasing a sigh, she pushed past him.

  * * *

  The red trail of blood sliding down Abigail’s neck filled him with a rage he’d never known. The hurt and anger in Abigail’s eyes pulled his nerves taut. As much as he longed to gather her in his arms, he could not. Not yet. Mayhap never.

  Suph’s second-in-command glared at Abigail’s back as she moved between them. His nostrils flared, his hands clenched at his side. Just as she was almost out of reach, the man grabbed hold of her arm, twisting it behind her back. With his other hand he clutched her to his chest. “The captain will pay a nice ransom for her.”

  Jesse narrowed his eyes and forced his pulse to calm. “Your captain is no longer an issue.”

  A hint of surprise flickered in his eyes.

  Shaking his head, Jesse took one stride forward, his gaze focused on Abigail’s and the pain radiating there. “Did you think your captain allowed me to go free? I think not.”

  The guard trembled and turned to the side. “There are others. Faithful followers of Athaliah who will rise up and conquer your false king.”

  “Then they, too, will be dealt with.” Jesse took another step. Holding Abigail in front of him, the guard twisted further. An arrow hissed through the air, piercing the guard’s shoulder. The man jerked with a howl and Abigail screamed as he released her. She stumbled back. Jesse reached out and grasped her arm, pulling her from another attack. He handed her off to Isa and wrapped his hand around the man’s upper arm. Ianatos and his men gathered the other two prisoners.

  “Hold still, and I’ll remove the arrow.” Jesse guided him to a place where the water was not so deep. “Sit.”

  Jesse held on to him as he plopped to the ground with a moan. Cupping his hands, he scooped some frigid water and poured it over the front of the wound, and then the back. “I may not like you, but even so, I don’t relish what I’m about to do.”

  The man glared and then shrugged. Jesse motioned for one of the Philistines to hold him still as he broke off the back of the arrow. The man helped. Jesse inspected the exit wound. “It is fortunate for you the head pierced through, else I’d have to dig it out.”

  Fortunate, too, Abigail had not been injured by the arrow. A hand’s width of the tip of the arrow poked through the front of the man’s tunic. Even just the tip could have caused grave injury. Death, if it pierced the right spot.

  He pressed down on the man’s shoulder, grasped the shaft and pulled. The man grunted and growled, but he kept his wits about him. After cleansing the wound with more water, Jesse helped the man to his feet. He gripped his arm to keep him from escaping.

  He was glad to be done with Suph. Glad that, soon, all would be right in Judah. His only regret was that his time with Abigail would end. He would take her to Jerusalem as he promised, and then he’d go back to taking care of Ma-maw and protecting Judah when the need arose. Of course, some of his duties included attending Jehoiada, which meant a possibility of seeing Abigail. Perhaps he could finally convince Ma-maw to move to Manna. Save himself the ache of wanting to talk to Abigail. To hold her hand. To kiss her while watching the sun rise. The sun set.

  He glanced toward the western sky. The last of the pink hues clung to the night. It was as if the sun wished to hold on to the day. Much the way Jesse wished to hold on to Abigail.

  Reuel paced back to Jesse, his hands hanging at his sides, his eyes darting around. Thorns pricked the back of Jesse’s neck. What had this man nervous? “You did well, Reuel. My thanks for protecting Abi—the princess.”

  He shook his head. “I did not do so well, else we would not have been captured.”

  “A traitor and a coward,” Suph’s second-in-command cried.

  Jesse burrowed his fingers around the man’s arm to still his voice. “She was not killed.”

  “Another moment and I would have killed her. Next time I will not hesitate.”

  “You will hush. It is fortunate for you she was not injured beyond a few scratches.”

  Reuel hung his head. The thorns pricking Jesse’s neck raced down his spine and clawed through to his stomach. “What has happened to Abigail? Is she well?”

 
“The princess, she, uh...” He shook his head before looking Jesse in the eye. “She’s fainted.”

  Air expelled from Jesse’s lungs as he peered through the dark. Abigail hung limply in Isa’s arms. Jesse curled his fingers against the jealousy boiling in his blood, which was ridiculous considering Isa loved his young wife more than his own life. He forced his body to calm, his muscles to relax. “She has been through quite an ordeal.”

  Reuel reached up and scratched his bearded chin. “There’s a chill in the air and the cold water...”

  “Aye, that is enough to make one faint.” Although, Jesse had never heard of such a thing, unless their body had been weakened by sickness. Had the nick to her throat been deeper than he expected? He dug his fingers into his prisoner’s muscles. “If anything happens to her, I will personally see you suffer,” Jesse growled.

  “It was nothing he did. The arrow—”

  Jesse jerked his prisoner around and probed the wound on his back and then the front. He’d already discarded the pieces, but he knew a good portion had protruded from the man’s chest. He pushed the man toward Reuel and strode the distance to where Isa cradled Abigail.

  “Isa!”

  His brother stopped and turned. In two long strides, Jesse tore her from his brother’s arms. Her tunic was soaked, but she did not shiver with cold. “Your cloak.”

  Isa removed his cloak and draped it on the ground. Jesse laid her down and turned her to the side. Crimson seeped from the wound on her shoulder. Isa knelt beside him. “It looks to have hit the bone.”

  Jesse gently rolled her onto her back and smoothed the hair from her face. He drew his finger over her eyebrows, along the curve of her cheek until he met the nick on her throat. He gave in to his longing and pressed his lips to hers. The clammy skin beneath his touch worried him. Her lack of shivers left him chilled. He wrapped Isa’s cloak around her and lifted her into his arms.

  “She is strong, Jesse. She will be fine.”

  Jesse prayed his brother was right. Although her wounds seemed to be minor, he’d seen men die of lesser inflictions. He unfolded his length and stood, cradling her next to his heart. He needed to get her to Jerusalem, to Jehoiada, where she’d be far from harm and receive the truth she longed for. He needed to get her to Jerusalem before he decided he didn’t care if she was a princess and never let her go.

  “Isa, we are not far from the city gates. I would see her to her home this night.”

  His brother shifted his weight as he glanced toward Jerusalem. Ianatos approached, his arms crossed over his chest. “I will be at rest once these scoundrels are locked away.”

  “I am not certain. The sun has disappeared,” Isa said.

  Ianatos tipped his head back. “There is little to light our way.”

  “Then we will follow the stars.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Abigail snuggled deeper into the soft cushion. It seemed like weeks since she had slept on something other than the hard ground with nothing to cushion her head but simple sheepskin. She stretched her arms and halted at the pain in her shoulder. Flashing her eyes open, she tried to recall how she’d come to be hurt.

  She scooted back against the fluffy pillows until she sat upright. Her arm hung loose at her side. Reaching across her body, she probed the area of pain and wrinkled her nose at the familiar scent of honey. Memories bombarded her. Reuel in the water. Jesse free, standing on the bank. Suph’s second-in-command twisting her arm behind her back. The jarring impact of an arrow as it hit.

  Relaxing, she leaned back against the pillows. Her eyes focused on the fine purple cloth draped over the bed. Walls of rich fabric surrounded her. Although she recognized many of the palace noises out in the court, she was certainly not in her own chambers, for her bedding had not been so luxurious.

  How had she come to arrive here? Where was Jesse?

  A light sound of sandals hitting the marble floor approached. The fabric parted and the most beautiful woman she had ever seen sat on the edge of the bed, a chalice in her hand.

  “I see you are awake.”

  Abigail grasped the cup the woman offered her and gave her a slight smile. Who was she? Was she here to harm her? A friend of Suph’s or Jesse’s?

  The woman’s tinted lips curved upward. “I see you are cautious, as you should be. I am Jehosheba.”

  Blinking, Abigail tried to recall if she’d ever heard that name.

  “Your father was my father. Your brother, my brother.”

  “My sister?”

  “I see you do not know me. I am not surprised. Your mother whisked you away from our shared chambers when you were young.”

  “Are there others?”

  “Sisters, you mean?” At Abigail’s nod she continued, “There is one other but she was given in marriage to a man in Israel. I have not seen her since before our brother’s death.”

  “I believed I had nobody left but Bilhah.”

  Jehosheba patted Abigail’s hand. “I know it may seem as such. There has been much dissension among our family. Jesse tells me you long for the truth, and you shall have it.” Jehosheba rose and pulled the curtains back, tying them to the carved wooden posts. “If you are well enough, a bath is ready. You must be tired from your days in the wilderness. Once you are revived we will go to my house and attend my husband and your nephew. Then you will have the answers you seek.”

  Abigail knotted her fingers in the folds of her tunic as her sister neared the door. “Jesse, where is he?”

  The corners of Jehosheba’s mouth curved upward. “He has gone home.” Abigail’s heart thudded to a halt. “But he will return when it is time for our evening meal.”

  “He will?”

  “Yes, dear sister. His home is not far from mine.”

  A renewed sense of hope filled Abigail. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “I believe I am ready for that bath now.”

  “Of course. I will send someone in to assist you.”

  Abigail planted her feet onto the cool marble and rose.

  “My, I heard you were a graceful creature and now I see for myself the truth.”

  Heat crept up Abigail’s neck, into her cheeks, burning her ears. “My thanks.”

  Jehosheba glided back toward her and embraced her for a long moment and then pulled back. “It is good to meet you, Abigail. I had prayed often for God to protect you. When Shema died—”

  “You knew of Shema?”

  “Aye, she had been my nurse, too. When your mother had you removed from our chambers, Shema volunteered to care for you.” Jehosheba glanced out the open window. A solemn look flashed in her brown eyes. “She was the only one willing to bear... To leave the rest of us.”

  Abigail worried her lip. She’d often heard the whispers behind her back about the color of her eyes. Some believed she would cast a curse if she was crossed. Was that what Jehosheba meant? “Bear what?”

  Jehosheba squeezed her fingers. “Soon you will have your answers. Do not fret, Abigail. God’s ways are always higher than our own, even in the midst of tragedy.

  “Now, how would you like to see some familiar faces?”

  Abigail felt her brow crease in confusion. Before she could ask who that would be, Bilhah glided into the room, Micah beside her.

  “Cousin!”

  “Princess, you are well? I took care of the cub like you asked.” Micah leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I’ll sneak him in later for you to see.”

  “Ach, do not crowd the child, let me see what she’s gotten herself into.” Dara pushed between them, a toothless grin beaming at Abigail.

  Abigail’s heart filled near to bursting with love for these people. The only person missing was Jesse.

  * * *

  Jesse tugged on his outer tunic for the third time since
he had arrived at Jehoiada’s. The white stone seemed to close in on him as he paced the walled courtyard and waited for the high priest. Waiting to make his intentions clear where Abigail was concerned.

  The fear he experienced as she lay unconscious and bleeding made him realize how much he cared for her. Aye, loved her deeply, even. The fear of losing her was kin to racing into battle unarmed.

  “Ah, I see you have returned. You look much improved, my friend.” Jehoiada limped into the closed courtyard, leaning heavily on a staff. “I must thank you again for seeing my wife’s sister safely returned. She was quite upset when we realized Abigail was no longer at the palace.”

  Jesse thought of his sister, Lydia, and how sorrowful he would have been if anything happened to her. “I am grateful to have been of service.”

  “My wife has seen Abigail. They will arrive to break our fast together.”

  Jesse’s blood thundered with anticipation. She was his sun to his morning sky. “Then she is well?”

  Jehoiada smiled. “Aye, that she is. Sore, from what my wife tells me, but well considering her ordeal.” His hand clenched around the polished wood of his staff; a serious expression lined his eyes. “We have spoken of her future. My wife and I have considered suitable husbands.”

  Jesse’s teeth ground together. “Do you not think it is too soon? She has escaped a scoundrel who would use her for her royal position.”

  “And that is the reason I must secure her a husband. The sooner she is married, the better for Judah. We cannot risk another man zealous for power to use her.”

  Emotions he was uncomfortable with warred within Jesse’s thoughts. Years of training for difficult tasks had not prepared him for this. He knew how to serve his people. Knew how to fight for what seemed right by God. But how did a man fight for the woman he loved, especially when he had no rights to her future? A muscle in his jaw ticked. He crossed his arms and pretended to inspect one of the many rare plants hanging from an upper balcony.