The Warrior's Vow

by Christina Rich

  “Of course we will consider Abigail’s wishes.”

  “Of course,” Jesse said through gritted teeth.

  Jehoiada tilted his head as he drew his fingers down his gray beard. “Jesse, do you have something to say in this matter?”

  Jesse dropped his gaze to the high priest. How was he to tell this man he loved his wife’s sister? To many, love held no consequence within the bounds of marriage. Even though the high priest seemed fond of his wife, Jesse had no idea where he stood on the thoughts of love. What if Jehoiada rejected Jesse’s suit?

  It did not matter. Now was not the time for reservations. His heart told him as much. “It is not my place. However—”

  “You have arrived early, Jesse, son of Isaiah.”

  An ache filled his chest until it restricted the air in his lungs. His confession lodged in his throat. Why could he not just say the words? Was he doomed to hold his love for Abigail in secret?

  Releasing a sigh, he pasted on a smile and turned to greet Jehoiada’s wife. What he saw stole his breath and thundered his pulse. Abigail stood beside her sister, outshining the priest’s wife. Fine purple linen draped over her shoulders, hugging her curves unlike her borrowed tunic had. The gold belt cinched around her waist accentuated the flare of her hips. A thin veil hid her tresses from his view. It did not matter, however, for each glint had been branded into his mind’s eye. The purple-and-gold material framing her face only made her eyes more prominent. The greens, now more gold, seemed to catch fire. Much like his signet stone.

  His gaze fell to the base of her neck, to the rounded protrusion beneath her tunic where he was quite certain his signet rested. The corner of his mouth twitched as he fought against the joy bubbling up and curving his lips. Did she wear it as a sign of hope between them, or did she wear it only because she liked the gem?

  Moisture grew on his palms as his need for the answer expanded in his heart. The feeling was like the surge of excited nervousness as he prepped for battle, only now so much more was at stake. It was not a matter of life or death, or loss of limb—it was a matter of purpose, of existing on this earth solely to serve the Almighty and to love her.

  Twin spots blushed her cheeks as she bowed her head. Jesse gathered his wits. “Jehosheba, Abigail.”

  Jehosheba, in her gold and purple tunics, glided toward him and embraced him. “I cannot thank you enough for returning my sister to me.” She released him, moved toward Jehoiada and tucked her arm around his elbow. Although she was much younger than her husband, a genuine smile graced her mouth. “My husband will see to it that you are well compensated.”

  Jesse shook his head. “There is no need. I would not receive payment for serving God and Judah.”

  Abigail sucked in a breath. It was barely discernible; however, Jesse caught it, felt it strike against his tender heart. He snapped his gaze to her. She shielded her eyes as she dipped her head. Her shoulders trembled. What was it he had said to upset her?

  “We thank you anyway, Jesse, son of Isaiah.”

  Jesse tore his gaze from Abigail.

  “That we do, Jesse. You have done your family proud.” Jehoiada patted his wife’s hand. “Of course, I would have expected no less from Ari’s brother. You are much like him, you know? I was not pleased to lose him. We are in need of good men like you to guard the royal house. Perhaps you would consider being a part of Abigail’s personal guard until we can decide on a husband for her.” A strangled noise mumbled from Abigail, drawing Jehoiada’s discerning eye. “Unless, of course, you are not prepared to marry, my dear sister. You have had quite the ordeal.”

  Straightening her spine, Abigail held her head high. Fire sparked in her eyes as she glared at Jesse. “I would be honored to serve God and Judah, even if I must leave my home and my newly found family.”

  Her words were like a jab into his healing wounds. His hope for a future with her as his wife plummeted to the marble beneath his feet. The white stone forming the walls of the courtyard seemed to press against him. He clenched his fists before folding them behind his back. He forced calm into his blood, even as he drank in one last look at her to forge her into his thoughts, to keep her with him in the days and years of solitude to come. He glanced at the high priest. “I am humbled by your request, Jehoiada. However, I am afraid I cannot accept your offer.”

  Jesse bowed. “Jehoiada, Jehosheba.” He paused, unfolded his length and strode toward Abigail. He grasped her clammy, trembling fingers in his. He gazed into her eyes. “Abigail, it has been an honor. May the one true God guide your path and if you shall ever waver in your faith in Him, watch the night sky as the sun slips past the horizon.” Tears brimmed on the edge of her lashes. If she had not been a princess... He bowed over her hand, pressing his lips to the softness. Rising, his eyes halted on the gem nestled beneath her tunic. Everything that he was, a Levite, his very identity, was corded around her neck. With one snap of the cord he could retrieve it, but it did not matter. Without her, his existence would be hollow. Nothing.

  He squeezed her hand. “God be with you, Princess.”

  Her hand fell to her side when he released it. He stepped back and began to turn on his heel.

  “Jesse, will you not stay to break our fast?” A hint of wonder and confusion colored the usually serene Jehosheba’s voice.

  He shook his head. “I fear I have duties to attend. Preparations for my journey home.”

  “You speak of Manna?” Jehoiada released his wife and braced a shaky hand against Jesse’s shoulder.

  “Aye, it is time.”

  “Then you must share one last meal with us before your travels.”

  The brush of soft linen as Abigail moved to gaze upon a plant captured his heart. “This time is for your family. I will not intrude on what little time the princess has with her sister and King Joash.”

  Jehoiada pressed his lips into a firm line and nodded. “Then I bid you well and safe journeys.”

  “My thanks, Jehoiada. May God hold you tightly to His bosom as you seek to restore Judah back to Him.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Abigail sniffed in a shuddering breath as Jesse slipped out of the courtyard. She had been so hurt at his mention of God and duty to Judah. Had he only returned her to save the kingdom? Had he not felt anything for her? Not even friendship?

  A comforting arm embraced her. Abigail laid her head against Jehosheba’s shoulder as unwanted tears slid from her eyes.

  “You have been through quite the ordeal. You do not have to marry, dear sister. Not as yet, if you do not choose.”

  Pulling back, Abigail swiped her fists beneath her eyes. “I do not mean to weep. It is a weakness my mother was never fond of.”

  Jehosheba lifted Abigail’s chin with her fingers. “Tears are not always bad. There is time to mourn.”

  “You are mistaken.” Abigail stepped away and crossed her arms over her midsection. “I do not mourn the loss of my mother.”

  “We can mourn many things, Abigail. People who have passed from this earth, a wounded bird.” The corners of her mouth curved upward at Abigail’s disbelief. “Yes, I know of your compassionate heart for broken vessels. The twins often informed me of your escapades, and of your mother’s cruelty. I am sorry I was unable to protect you. Will you forgive me?”

  Abigail flung herself into her sister’s arms. “There is nothing to forgive. You cared. Even if I did not know of your existence, you cared.”

  “As I do now. Your heart weeps for lost love, does it not?”

  Pulling back, Abigail shook her head.

  “I see the pain in your beautiful eyes, dear sister.”

  She dropped her gaze toward the marble beneath her sandaled feet. Her eyes had forever been a curse to her. Unusual, some would say. Evil. Jehosheba brushed her hand down Abigail’s cheek, once again lifting her face.
“You are beautiful. Do not let anyone tell you different. Your mother feared you, feared your beauty would overrule the power she held over men like Suph.”

  Abigail shook her head.

  “This I know. She often ranted her fears to her personal servants. It is why she kept you hidden. You must not allow her behavior and jealousies to rule your future, Abigail. Do not allow her rejections to cause misunderstandings in the matters of your heart. If you love—”

  “King Joash, may I introduce you to your aunt Princess Abigail.” Jehoiada stood beside a child in kingly attire. She’d known him to be no more than a child, but he was nothing more than a mite with a head full of dark curls. She had not cared whether this child was, in truth, the rightful heir. She had never wanted to rule Judah, had never been groomed for such an honor; all she had wanted was the truth of the part Jehoiada had played in her family’s demise. But even that had lost its desire in her heart as she’d come to love Jesse. However, now that she looked into reflections of her brother’s eyes, she knew with no doubt this was her brother’s son, a child Jesse had sought to protect, one in the care of the high priest.

  This young child, her own flesh and blood, was the rightful King of Judah, which meant Jehoiada had not killed her cousins. Her mother had, which meant Jesse...had doled out justice. And rightfully so.

  Jesse was a man of honor, a man who took his vows to God and Judah seriously. A man who took all of his vows seriously. Including the one he’d made to protect her, even though she could have been a threat to the good of Judah.

  She recalled the somber farewell. The sadness in his eyes. Was it possible he thought of her beyond duty? Did he feel in his heart the same as she did? The stone beneath her tunic began to warm. She pressed her palm to her chest.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Abigail.”

  Startled, Abigail focused on her king and smiled. She dropped to her knees and bowed.

  “Please, rise. It is only to the great Almighty that anyone should bestow such an honor.”

  Lifting her head, she gazed on this child innocent of the suffering her mother had caused. Before she could halt herself, she pulled him into her arms and hugged him. “It is a pleasure to meet you, as well, Joash.”

  Jehoiada laughed. “Shall we eat?”

  She unfolded her length and rose. “Jehoiada, Jesse nearly died to protect Joash. I believe the House of Judah should honor him with a meal before his departure.”

  “As you know, Abigail, he refused my offer.”

  “He will not refuse me.” Joash’s soft childlike tone washed over her.

  “No, he will not.” Abigail smiled, her heart much improved, knowing she’d get one last chance to discern his feelings for her.

  Jehoiada tapped his staff against the marble floors. A servant rushed forward. “Send four temple guards and four palace guards to retrieve Jesse, son of Isaiah.”

  The thin man bowed and left to do Jehoiada’s bidding. Abigail pulled her eyebrows together. “Why the guards? Jesse is no threat.”

  “No, but it is obvious his attendance is of some importance to you, and so to our king.” Jehoiada pulled on his beard, and then smiled. “I did not wish risking his refusal. The temple and palace guards will make it clear his refusal is not an option.”

  “My thanks, Jehoiada.”

  Jehosheba tucked her arm through her husband’s and smiled. “You may thank my husband once he completes the negotiations for the bride contract with Jesse.”

  Abigail stepped back, her hand to her throat as her courage began to wane. “I do not even know if Jesse—”

  “Aye, he loves you, Abigail. There is no doubt. Now if only he will allow his pride to be pushed to the side long enough to accept that he is a proper husband for you.”

  * * *

  Jesse hunched his shoulders as he walked back toward the home he shared with Ma-maw. He did not respond to the peddlers selling their wares as he usually did. There was no joy in him to jest. Only sadness. Aye, he wasn’t sad to be leaving Jerusalem so much as he was that he’d never see Abigail’s glittering eyes or the alluring smile too big for her cheekbones.

  He recalled the chill of her hand beneath the press of his lips. His farewell had been like losing his sword arm, only worse. Placing one foot in front of the other seemed difficult now, and he did not perceive the action getting easier. Inhaling a painful breath, he sniffed. Never one to shed tears, he clenched his jaw and fought the sadness trying to consume him.

  Feet pounded the cobblestones behind him. He glanced over his shoulder at the scuffling commotion. Four temple guards, followed by four palace guards, pushed their way through the throng. Jesse looked around and then toward the city walls. What had caused these men to become alarmed? Was the city being attacked?

  Abigail.

  His heart pounded as he started back toward Jehoiada’s home. The guards surrounded him, their hands on the hilts of their swords. One of the palace guards stepped forward. “Jesse, son of Isaiah?”

  Jesse crossed his arms over his chest. “Aye. What is this about? Is all well?”

  “You are to come with us.”

  He drew his eyebrows together. “Why?”

  Uriel, a temple guard he had trained and fought with, stepped forward. “Jesse, King Joash has ordered it.”

  Every muscle in his body tensed, prepared to fight. He forced himself to relax and allowed the guards to escort him. He wasn’t surprised when they led him toward Jehoiada’s home, since that is where they were to break fast. What did surprise him was that Jehoiada met him in the courtyard instead of King Joash.

  “You may leave,” Jehoiada addressed the guards, and then waited until they each filed out of the courtyard.

  The high priest, no longer toting his staff, folded his hands in front of him. Where the man had looked old and frail only moments before, he now looked imposing. Almost frightening.

  “It has come to my attention that we have some unfinished business concerning Abigail.”

  Jesse searched the shadows to see if she was hidden among them.

  “As her kin, she is my responsibility.”

  Jesse did not wish to take part in the discussion of Abigail’s future husband. His heart could not take it. “What is this about, Jehoiada?”

  Jehoiada tilted his head as he drew his hand down his beard. “I am certain I do not need to ask, however, for formality’s sake, I will. Do you love Abigail?”

  Jesse’s heart lurched, hitting hard against his chest.

  Jehoiada smiled. “I see that you do.”

  Shaking his head, Jesse tried to make sense of the conversation.

  “You are not a king, nor do you have vast amounts of land.” Jehoiada paced with an unsteady gait in front of him. “However, I fear she loves you and she—”

  “She what?” He shook his head again. “How do you know this?”

  “Jehoiada is a very discerning man, Jesse.”

  He swung around. His heart thundering in his ears, he held his breath, afraid she’d disappear if he moved. Afraid he had misheard Jehoiada’s words. She was as beautiful as she was only moments earlier, perhaps even more so.

  “Your tears—”

  “You cried, Abigail?” Jesse rushed forward, cupping her hands in his. He searched her eyes for the truth. “Why? Does your wound pain you?”

  She shook her head. “You... Your farewell seemed so final. I could not bear the thought of never seeing you again, Jesse.”

  He dropped her hands. “And I could not bear watching another court you.” A man could only face so much temptation before he broke, and he feared seeing the woman he loved marry another would push him over the edge. “That is why I must...”

  Swiveling around, he rushed toward the archway.

  “Jesse, please.”

  He c
ontinued, ignoring the tug on his heart and the way his palms burned from holding her hands. Two steps more and he would be free to suck air into his lungs. Free to release the anguish building inside.

  “Guards! Halt that man!” Jehoiada’s command was like a disabling blow.

  Two guards blocked the only exit. Widening his stance, Jesse brought up his fists. The guards drew their swords.

  “No!” The sound of Abigail’s sandaled feet on the marble as she ran the distance had him clenching his fists further. She grabbed hold of his tunic and flung herself in front of him. His chest swelled with pride. If only he had the right to feel such an emotion.

  Jehoiada stepped between the guards and Abigail with his hand raised. “Stand down.”

  The blood pulsing through Jesse’s body refused to calm, especially since Abigail’s palm now rested against his chest, her eyes pleading. “Please, Jesse, do not go.”

  He pressed his lips together, afraid if he spoke the tears pressing against the back of his eyes would flow.

  Her head fell against his shoulder. The warmth of her palm burned through his tunic. “Please.”

  He closed his eyes. His arms wrapped around her, holding her to him. “Do not ask this of me. If you have any compassion for me, Abigail, do not ask me to watch you marry another.”

  “Jesse, it is obvious you misunderstand the reason you were called here.”

  Jesse glared at Jehoiada over Abigail’s head and blew out a ragged breath. “Have mercy and do not tarry with your explanations.”

  Jehoiada waved the guards away. “I have asked you here to negotiate a bridal contract between you and Abigail.”

  Jesse’s knees threatened to buckle, but he leaned back and lifted Abigail’s gaze to his. “You would marry me?”

  The corners of her mouth lifted. “Of course, Jesse, son of Isaiah. I love you and would have none other.”