The Barbarian (The Herod Chronicles Book 2)

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The Barbarian (The Herod Chronicles Book 2) Page 23

by Wanda Ann Thomas


  "Your visitor is a woman," Saad said.

  "A woman? Don't tell me they're sending their wives to beg." James rubbed his weary eyes. "I'll be down shortly."

  Face reddening, Saad hitched his chin over his shoulder. "She insisted on coming to your bedchamber."

  Bribes of gold and beautiful daughters to wed hadn't won his goodwill, so now they were sending him slaves to bed? James's fists balled. "I don't want another man's slave whore."

  A cloaked figure pushed by Saad. "I hear you've enjoyed the comfort of many slave girls," a familiar voice taunted.

  James shot to his feet "Elizabeth? What in the name of Beelzebub are you doing breaking into a man's bedchamber?" Memories of his base behavior when he studied in Rome arose and heated his face. A reminder of his own sins was the last thing he needed to recall in the middle of a rant against the corrupt company his father was keeping. What stung more, though, was learning Elizabeth had heard about his unsavory past.

  Saad smiled and pulled the door closed.

  James marched around to the front of the desk. "You shouldn't be here."

  Elizabeth pushed back her hood. Ivory skin framed by jet black hair emphasized her stricken demeanor.

  James moved to her side. "What's happened?"

  Tears welled in her lovely black eyes. "Your father wants to send me away. He said I'm a disgrace to the family. I wouldn't mind so much for myself, but my mother isn't well. She needs me."

  James's jaw tightened. "I hope your father told him to go to Hades."

  Elizabeth's face crumpled before she could hide her expression with her hands.

  His anger over his father's hatefulness gave way to pity and concern. He wrapped his arms around Elizabeth.

  She pulled away. "Don't. I'm unclean."

  A soft breeze blew though the open window, carrying the smell of myrrh and cinnamon from the Temple's altar. He tightened his hold. "Damnation! Don't push me away. I don't care one iota about clean and unclean."

  She lifted her chin. Tears ran down both cheeks. "You don't?"

  Filled with unfamiliar tenderness and love, he kissed her forehead. "Tell me what's troubling you."

  Elizabeth wiped her tears and inhaled a shuddering breath. "My father has been keeping a terrible secret." She laid out the whole sordid story.

  The sight of her long black eyelashes sweeping over pink cheeks did more to undo him than the particulars of her father's sins. James had witnessed hypocrisy aplenty among men he'd admired. He was finding it harder and harder to be shocked.

  "I didn't know who else to go to for help," she confessed.

  He smoothed his hand over her shapely back. Proficient at pushing others away, he was surprised at how much pleasure and comfort he gained from the close intimacy with Elizabeth. "I won't allow my father to send you away."

  "Truly?"

  "Truly," he assured her without the faintest idea how he'd keep the promise.

  She smiled up at him, filling him with unfamiliar warmth.

  The door crashed open.

  James and Elizabeth broke apart.

  Saad limped in. "They're coming! The whole Parthian army is swarming through the city gates."

  Elizabeth ran to the window, leaned out, and gasped.

  Nauseous, James glanced at the shiny sword wedged between his bed and the wall. Hasmond had assured everyone from wealthy merchants, to skittish Pharisees, to skeptical Sadducees, that all would be well if they cooperated with their new overlords. Carrying a weapon might get him killed. James left the sword where it stood and joined Elizabeth.

  Soldiers armored in black leather poured like ants through the streets and alleys, overrunning homes and shops, hauling off armloads of loot.

  Elizabeth clutched his sleeve. "Soldiers are breaking into my brother's house. Your father said our family would be safe from marauders."

  Her agony and fear stabbed at him. "There's been a mistake, or a miscommunication." He grabbed her hand. "Gabriel will need our help."

  They raced out of the room, ran down a series of hallways, and bolted out a side door. Screams and shouts came from all sides. The tall double doors at the main entryway stood wide open. Soldiers flooded into the palace.

  James pulled Elizabeth across the paved courtyard. A bloodied, beaten body lay in a heap at the bottom of the first stairway. Elizabeth froze.

  James slid her hood over her head and wrapped his arm around her back. "Keep your eyes down. Don’t look. I'll guide you the rest of the way."

  He led her to the roadway and they picked up their pace.

  Outside the Temple Treasurer's grand home, a soldier slashed at the elderly priest with a thick bullwhip, demanding gold and jewels. James slowed. Elizabeth pushed back her hood. Two warhorses charged around the corner, forcing him and Elizabeth to leap out of the way. The cavalry men raced on without a backward glance.

  The goldsmith's three lovely daughters tumbled out of a nearby house. They wept and clung to each other, unable to escape the trio of drunken soldiers who pawed at them and shoved them toward the road. Both arms hanging broken, the goldsmith stood in his doorway sobbing. His quiet, dignified wife begged for help.

  James didn't know who to assist first. Hatred for his father welled up. His father's selfish ambition was to blame for this. All of it. How could James possibly atone for the evil wrought today?

  A bloodcurdling scream came from Gabriel's house, and Gabriel's wife Talitha burst out of the two-story home and fled in the opposite direction.

  James and Elizabeth hurried forward. Gabriel's desperate shouts came from within the elegant house, underscored by baby Helen's loud wails. James and Elizabeth hurried up the stairs, rushed through the door, and came to a halt.

  Four muscled soldiers grappled with Gabriel, holding him in place. A fifth blunt-nosed man held two-year-old Helen by the heel. Purple-faced, curly-headed Helen screeched and howled.

  "Put the child down!" James yelled.

  The blunt-nosed man shook baby Helen. "I'll crack the brat's head against the wall if you don't tell me where you're hiding your gold and jewels."

  Baby Helen began to choke on her tears.

  Gabriel bucked and kicked. "I will kill you if you hurt her!"

  The blunt-nosed man hammered his heel into Gabriel's belly.

  Gabriel struggled for air, the baby bawled louder, and Elizabeth cried out and leaped forward.

  James caught her, hauled her back, and narrowed his eyes at the soldiers. "Get out. Leave."

  The blunt-nosed man grinned, revealing a row of black, rotted teeth. "Or what?"

  Elizabeth squeezed his hand. "Please don't rile them up."

  James had to try. If he didn't, who would? Legs shaking like dried reeds, he lifted his chin. "My father is Simeon Onias. And this man is his nephew."

  The black-toothed smile faded. "We didn't see a red strip of cloth tied to the door."

  "Liar!" Gabriel choked out. "I tied the red flag there myself."

  Swearing viciously, the blunt-nosed man swung the baby in an arc and released her. Sweet Helen sailed toward James. He dragged his hand free from Elizabeth and managed to catch the flailing child. Heart lodged in his throat, he hugged curly-headed Helen.

  The soldiers released Gabriel and fled.

  Eyes red and puffy, nose running with goo, baby Helen held her arms out toward her father. Gabriel took the child and cradled her against his chest. Grim-faced, he headed to the door. "I need to find Talitha."

  James and Elizabeth followed.

  "We saw her run down the road toward Father's house," Elizabeth said. Her calm amidst the chaos reminded James of the valor she'd displayed when they'd both been held captive by rebel outlaws. She was a remarkable woman. He would be proud if he were only half as brave and noble as she.

  Gabriel trotted down the porch stairs. "She must have gone to Father for help. Or maybe to her parents’ home."

  "There she is," Elizabeth pointed across the road.

  Talitha spotted them at the sam
e time. A relieved smile crossed her beautiful, tear-streaked face. Nehonya Onias walked a few paces behind his daughter-in-law.

  A band of cavalry men rode hard up the wide thoroughfare. Talitha left Nehonya behind and sprinted across the road.

  James cringed. "Stop! Wait."

  Talitha's brilliant eyes remained fixed on Gabriel and little Helen. A rider carrying a blue and yellow pennant ran Talitha down. Her crumpled body tumbled and rolled beneath the heavy hoofs of a second horse, then a third.

  James clapped his hands to his head.

  Gabriel's anguished cry shattered the air.

  Elizabeth hiked her tunic up and raced forward.

  The Parthian soldiers galloped on.

  Elizabeth, Gabriel, and Cousin Nehonya converged on Talitha's bloody, twisted form. Baby Helen's breathless wails and Gabriel's harsh weeping twisted in James’s soul like a knife. Sounds of terror and grief sprang from all quarters of the city, and rang in his ears as if heaven itself was weeping.

  A tidal wave of resentment crashed over him. His hatred for his father redoubled. He peered toward the Temple. Where was the Lord in all of this? Why did He look the other way as Jerusalem suffered more strife, more death, more war?

  CHAPTER 28

  Petra in Nabatea - One Day Later

  The Arabian city of Petra was impressive, its temples, treasury, and palace carved into the faces of towering, pink-hued cliffs. Markets overflowed with goods supplied by the camel caravans plying the ancient trade route. Exotic, almond-eyed women smiled alluringly from behind silk veils. The heavy scent of rich spices saturated the air.

  Kadar stood in a throne room beside Obodas and the small retinue of soldiers hand-chosen for this mission. Herod, accompanied by his brother, Pheroras, and Pheroras's seven-year-old son, had finished presenting their impassioned plea for aid to the king of Nabatea.

  The king was a relative of some sort to Herod, whose mother, Cypros, had been born and raised in Nabatea. A nervous, simpering man, King Malichus presided over a throne room dripping with gold and pretension.

  Surrounded by numerous white-clad slaves waving large fans of palm fronds, and a cadre of pompous advisors who eagerly agreed with every word he uttered, the king frowned at Herod's request for money and an army. "If I give you half my army, I'll be vulnerable to attack from Cleopatra."

  Herod laughed without humor. "Are you two still sniping at one another?"

  The king shifted uncomfortably on his filigreed throne. "She is a greedy harpy, eager for more lands, more gold, more power. She'll pounce on me and my kingdom if she senses the least weakness."

  "You owe my father money and favors."

  "It will take some time to gather the coins."

  Herod tapped his thigh with his sword hand. "How long?"

  The king conferred with his advisors, then straightened. "Six months, at the least."

  Herod's eyes flashed. "Have the Parthians warned you not to cooperate with me?"

  King Malichus's face reddened. "I would help you if I could. Your father was a good man. If he was the one asking..."

  Kadar winced. Insulting Herod was pure foolishness.

  Herod speared the king with a withering look. "If I didn't need your help securing Phasael's release from the Parthians, I'd wash my hands of you right now."

  Malichus spluttered and blinked. "Help? What kind of help?"

  Herod patted his nephew's shoulder. "Lend me coins for a ransom. And I will leave my nephew behind as a hostage until the funds are repaid."

  A stricken frown crossed Pheroras's face. But the sturdy seven-year-old puffed out his chest, proof he was cut from the same audacious cloth as his uncle.

  The king nodded and jumped up. "Agreed. Now, come and share a feast with me in honor of Antipater."

  The king's cronies followed him out of the throne room.

  Herod pulled Kadar aside. "We will leave for Egypt at first light tomorrow."

  A foul taste tainted Kadar's mouth. Egypt. Vivid memories of the six years he'd slaved away in Sabu Nakht's copper mine roared to life. He'd sworn he'd never step foot in the damnable country again. He swiped a hand over his face. "Will Cleopatra give you an army?"

  Herod made a noise of disgust. "I've stopped trying to figure out what goes on in her fiendish mind. But I don't have any other good options. Hers is the only kingdom east of Rome with armies and wealth enough to take on Parthia. So, even though the thought makes my skin crawl, I'm prepared to kiss her pretty backside, if that's what it takes."

  Unease and foreboding about the journey oozed through Kadar. Stop thinking like a worried old woman. He didn't have anything to fear in Egypt. "I'd like to see to a personal matter while I'm in Egypt."

  Herod's brows rose. "Are you hoping to repay an enemy?"

  Kadar shook his head. Simeon Onias was the only foe Kadar wanted to get his hands on. "Lydia was very fond of a slave woman who was recently sent back to Egypt. I want to check on her. Make sure she is being treated well." Kadar planned to pay to free Brynhild and give her enough money to live out the rest of her days doing whatever she pleased.

  CHAPTER 29

  Masada - One Day Later

  A small Parthian army had arrived at the base of the sheer-walled plateau the day before. Surrounded by her fellow refugees, Lydia peered over the crumbling wall edging a cliff and held her breath. The steep drop to the rocky plain below, though dizzying, didn't scare her half as much as the sight of the Parthian soldiers trooping up the narrow, winding trail.

  As the soldiers drew closer, she saw they were a mixed force of both Parthians and Jews. A tightness filled her chest. She didn't understand her countrymen's eagerness to kill one another over the matter of who would sit as High Priest of Israel. How long would the warring and hatred go on? How many people would have to die before peace was reestablished? How would the nation heal from the gaping wounds of yet another war?

  A cheer went up, and Herod's brother Joseph marched into the midst of the men, women, and children who depended on him to safeguard them until Herod returned. Cypros and Mariamne and the rest of Herod's household followed Joseph.

  Kitra broke away from her cousins and rushed toward Lydia. Her diaphanous Roman-style stola drew the eye of every man she passed. Arriving breathless at Lydia's side, Kitra leaned out over the fortress wall for a closer look at the advancing soldiers. "This is all so thrilling, don't you think?"

  Engulfed by Kitra’s cloying cloud of perfume, Lydia wrinkled her nose. "Aren't you even a little frightened?"

  Kitra's tinkling laugh earned her more stares. "Joseph took the time to hold my hand and assure me we are perfectly safe."

  Certain the flirtatious girl's sheer dress was responsible for Joseph's attentiveness, Lydia merely nodded.

  Rough of dress and demeanor, Joseph jumped up onto a large, flat boulder. "Don't let the size of the Parthian army worry you. They don't stand a chance against my archers."

  Kitra looped her arm around Lydia's and spoke into her ear. "Joseph terrified me half to death when I first came to Idumea to live with Aunt Cypros. But I think he would make an interesting bed partner, don't you?"

  Inclined to believe the rumors circulating about the debauched behavior of Herod and his brothers was the work of exaggerated gossip, Kitra's behavior was causing Lydia to have second thoughts. Lydia pulled her arm free. "I think...we should listen to Joseph."

  "The enemy is coming to test us." Joseph's voice was confident and bold. "But those Parthian devils and their pet dogs are about to learn what bloody work it will be to take Masada."

  Earsplitting trills and yips filled the air. Cypros and Mariamne smiled and applauded. Lydia followed suit, but she found it hard to believe Joseph and his paltry two hundred soldiers could hold back an army of thousands.

  Joseph smiled wide, revealing yellowed, overlapping teeth. "Don't lose faith. I will keep the enemy at bay. And Herod will come back for us."

  A roar of approval went up.

  Joseph jumped to the gro
und and strode off.

  Lydia turned and leaned out over the wall to check the progress of the men sent to capture Masada. They were coming fast and strong. Her muscles still ached from the one-hour trek up the steep Snake Path. Once the Parthian soldiers and Jewish fighters reached the summit, they would have to dig deep into their reserves to find the extra strength to enter into battle.

  Joseph positioned his men at a choke point. A brown-clad Jewish fighter rounded a blind corner. An arrow whizzed through the air, and struck home. The man keeled over, crashed against a sloping boulder, and slid off into the wide-open blue.

  A collective gasp went up. Lydia winced.

  Whoosh after whoosh sounded below. Death cries rang out. Men fell. Herod's followers cheered each time the archers' arrows found a target.

  Both horrified and mesmerized, Lydia swallowed back the sour remains of the rye bread from her breakfast and prayed the battle would come to a quick end.

  Close to fifty men on the Parthian side went down without striking a single blow against Joseph's fighters.

  The flow of enemy soldiers slowed to a trickle, then stopped. Joseph's men watched and waited. Soldiers up and down the Snake Path hunkered in place. Herod's followers held their breaths. Lydia twisted her hands in her tunic.

  A forlorn note from a horn drifted up the Path. The Parthian soldiers turned and fled back down the winding trail.

  Joseph's men cheered. Herod's followers embraced and cried out their joy. Cypros was heaped with praise for bearing such courageous sons. Kitra hugged Lydia. Relieved, Lydia set aside her dislike and hugged the girl back.

  Cypros approached them, looking more cross than usual. "Lydia Onias, you will mend your relationship with Physician Hama. I won't tolerate having him distracted from his work."

 

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