The Warrior (The Herod Chronicles Book 1)

by Wanda Ann Thomas

  Kadar straightened and reached for his sword. “I don’t like the looks of this.”

  Nathan looked across the room to the head table. A Roman courier stood at Antipater’s side. Herod and his three brothers all wore troubled faces. The news rippled its way back to them. Julius Caesar had summoned Antipater to Syria to face charges of treason.

  Kadar frowned at Nathan. “Don’t count on any help from Antipater now. He suddenly has more than enough problems of his own.”

  Nathan studied Herod, worried for him. Antipater could be put to death if convicted. Nathan shuddered. Herod would go stark, raving mad if it happened.

  CHAPTER 10

  The sound of singing drifted through the open window, announcing the approach of the bridegroom. Alexandra pressed her hot cheek against the cold stones of the lattice window and peered down the road, waiting for her betrothed to appear.

  She was getting married. Not in the spring as planned, but this very hour. Though nervous, the idea did not displease her.

  And here he came. Nathan of Rumah.

  Dressed in a simple white tunic, his black, curly hair was lit by the rays of the setting sun. Surrounded by his friends, he sang the wedding songs with the same enthusiasm they did. As the wedding party came even with the house, Nathan peered up at her window. A smile spread across his face. He’d spotted her watching him. Her pulse sped up dizzyingly.

  “Alexandra, come away from the window,” her aunt commanded.

  The bedroom door banged open and her cousins charged in. Beyond excited at the prospect of walking in the wedding procession, the young girls spoke over one another, encouraging her to hurry.

  “He’s here.”

  “Come quick.”

  “Alexandra, why are you still holding your veil? Put it on. Put it on.”

  Alexandra took her time. The day of her marriage might not wait, but the hour certainly could.

  Aunt Anna held out the wedding veil. “I am shocked your father agreed to this hasty marriage. The gossips are already chattering over it.”

  Alexandra dipped down to allow her aunt to slip the long, transparent covering over her head. “I am just grateful Father is alive and able to agree or disagree with anything.”

  “Praise the Lord, the evil devil who attacked your father used a woman’s knife,” Aunt Anna said and stood back to examine her work.

  Praise the Lord, indeed. Her father had only suffered a flesh wound. He was already halfway healed.

  A shiver snaked through Alexandra as she recalled the sight of the bloody knife. She was developing a deep loathing for the hateful weapon, and she wondered if she’d ever be able to pick up a simple cooking knife and not see blood.

  Tears beaded in her aunt’s eyes. “You are the image of my sister. A maiden’s wedding day should be full of joy. Your father ought to have put the young man off.”

  Alexandra lifted the veil and kissed her aunt’s cheek. “Nathan is worried for my safety.” And for good reason. Her father had been unusually quiet on the subject, convincing her that he was, indeed, involved in some unpleasant scheme.

  Lowering the veil, Alexandra skimmed her fingers over the fine stitchwork decorating the border of the sheer cloth. Lydia had worked many, many hours on it. Alexandra’s throat closed. She wished her sister was here. The loss of Lydia was a low, constant ache.

  Her aunt stepped back and her young cousins charged forward. Corralling Alexandra, they pushed her through the doorway. She watched her step for fear their enthusiasm would send her tumbling down the stairway.

  “Ho, children,” a firm male voice commanded.

  The girls went instantly quiet. Alexandra drew her foot back and scanned the large, open-air courtyard below. A roomful of wedding guests holding garlands of myrtle smiled up at her. One face stood out from the others.

  Nathan.

  Two weeks ago, he had come to Jerusalem to observe Yom Kippur and Sukkot. Two weeks ago he didn’t know her. Today he would marry a wife bringing him a pack of trouble. Poor man. What must he feel? Bewildered? Trapped? Displeased?

  He stepped forward. “Take care with the bride.” A lovely smile spread across his face. “She is a priceless treasure.” Holding out his hand, he beckoned her to him.

  Unfamiliar joy took hold. Gracious God, praise You for Your loving kindness toward me. Not only did Nathan not resent her, he actually seemed pleased to marry her.

  Behind her, Aunt Anna laughed derisively. “The boy will stop his sweet-tongued ways once he has your father’s money in his pocket. Just you wait and see.”

  Alexandra didn’t believe it. Nathan was a good and honorable man.

  His smile began to fade. She hurried down the stairs, lest he believe her unhappy or reluctant to marry. Stopping a hairsbreadth away, she placed her hand against his open palm.

  All she could manage was a whisper. “Take me to your tent.”

  His smile faded and his eyes grew intent. He swallowed. The long muscles in his neck flexed. His straight jaw and rugged cheekbones called out to be touched. She settled for pressing her palm closer to his.

  His mouth brushed her ear. “You look utterly beautiful.”

  The whispered words purled at the nape of her neck and down her spine. She took a deep breath.

  Myrtle garlands were placed around their necks. The floral smell soothed. Together she and Nathan moved toward the door. He held her hand tight, resisting his friends’ efforts to pull him free and place him at the head of the marriage procession.

  They stepped outside. A loud buzzing greeted them. All of Jerusalem had come out to watch the poor olive farmer take home his rich bride. How had she forgotten the gawkers? She’d stood at her window all day, watching the crowds gather and build like storm clouds around her home.

  Her brief pause elicited a raised a brow from Nathan.

  And what of it, his amused smile asked. Was she having second thoughts?

  She lifted her chin and pressed closer to him.

  They left her home behind. Alexandra’s cousins led the wedding procession through the streets and lanes of Jerusalem. Dressed in laced-trimmed white gowns, they skipped in time to the musicians’ festive songs. Torch-bearers lit the way, and merriment and joy abounded as they trod the winding road to the Mount of Olives, then wove their way through the orchard.

  Nathan’s father, Joseph, stood waiting for them at the door of his tent. Moonlight shimmered on the spindly branches of the ancient olive tree guarding the camp. The walls of the tent were rolled up out of the way, and two simple, wooden chairs sat facing each other. Joseph invited the bridal party under the canopy. The guests gathered around.

  This wasn’t the wedding of Alexandra’s imagination. Hers was to have been a grand affair, celebrated with fanfare at the door of a prestigious synagogue, followed by a sumptuous banquet. But the simple beauty of the orchard suited her tastes and temperament better than any grand celebration would have.

  “Daughter.” Joseph stepped forward and kissed Alexandra on the forehead. “Welcome home.” She smiled, loving the frail man already.

  Joseph nodded for her to begin.

  Nathan released her hand and took his place on the groom’s chair. She circled him once. Six more times to go around the bridegroom and her part would be over. She studied his broad shoulders and wide chest. A warrior through and through, vitality pulsed off him. Her toes curled and her stomach flipped. She prayed he’d find her as pleasing as she found him.

  Legs shaky and weak, she finally was able to slide down onto the bride’s chair. Aunt Anna and Nathan’s stepmother, Rhoda, stood behind her. Unable to meet Nathan’s eyes, Alexandra studied her feet. The silence dragged on and on. She lifted her chin.

  Nathan was watching her. “It’s not too late to stop,” he whispered. Concern and conviction shadowed his brown eyes. He looked as vulnerable as he had when that stranger called him a murderer.

  She folded her hands together and sat up straighter. “I’m nervous.” She nodded toward the weddi
ng guests. “I’m not used to being the center of attention.” Which was also true.

  Nathan’s brow smoothed. “Keep your eyes on me, and we will get through this together.”

  She smiled. Though a warrior, he also was incredibly kind.

  Joseph passed a silver-flecked stone goblet to Nathan. He lifted the cup and drank, his beautiful brown eyes remaining intent on her. He held the cup out. She laid her hands on top of his, directed the cup to her mouth, and drank deeply. Pleasant warmth washed through her, and it wasn’t solely due to the wine.

  The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur.

  They moved outside.

  A bonfire blazed bright, shooting sparks up into the starry sky. Merry music filled the air. Children raced after one another. Platters of food appeared. Nathan led her to a reed mat, where they sat. Rhoda gave them a plate holding luscious, red grapes and creamy, white goat cheese.

  Father and James sat off to the side looking miserable. Used to sitting or reclining on couches, they shifted back and forth on the thin mats. Lydia would have loved it. Always dreaming about her own wedding, she would have found the evening enchanting.

  Alexandra’s smile faltered. If Judas the Zealot had indeed taken Lydia as a wife, her sister would never have her dream wedding. Not now.

  Mary raced up. Breathless and rosy-cheeked, she knelt down beside Alexandra. “Come and dance. Rhoda and most of the other women who live in Rumah have agreed to dance in your honor.”

  Alexandra eyed the women gathering by the fire. The mothers, sisters, and cousins of the men who had attacked her family. The men of Rumah stood off to the side. One of them might be responsible for stabbing her father.

  Mary pointed. “Judith sends her apologies for the hurt her son caused you and your family.” A small, frail woman waved a red-chapped hand. “Judith promises to do her best to persuade Judas to release your sister.”

  The air backed up in Alexandra’s lungs. Everybody was staring, waiting to see what she would do.

  A hand touched her elbow. Nathan’s warm breath filled her ear. “No one will blame you if you refuse.” He had invited these people, his friends and neighbors. He obviously wanted to live in peace with them. But he wasn’t going to force her to do the same.

  Her disgust with them fizzled. What would hating them accomplish? It wouldn’t get her sister back. How long could she hold onto her bitterness? If the Lord willed it, she would live among these people from now until her death.

  Alexandra took a deep breath and stood.

  Nathan fingers skimmed over her wrist. “Thank you.”

  Her eyes met his. She forced a smile to her lips.

  “Be sure to watch your step, now. The last time you danced...” Nathan’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

  Yes, she’d tripped and fallen into his arms.

  Her smile turned real.

  Mary led Alexandra over to the women. Greetings and blessings rained down on her. She nodded and was friendly in return. The sour taste in her mouth would be worth it if even one of them decided to champion for Lydia’s release.

  The musicians struck up a new song. Mary clapped and waved for Alexandra to follow her. After a couple of turns around the bonfire, she began to relax. Then Herod of Idumea walked into camp. Alexandra stumbled. Nathan jumped up and greeted his old friend. Herod pulled Nathan off to the side.

  A two-fold increase in the tempo of the music sent Alexandra and the others dancers whirling around the fire. Though she should be watching her feet, she kept peeking up at Nathan and Herod. Nathan frowned and seemed to be arguing against whatever Herod was saying. She grew dizzier and dizzier. She lost sight of them briefly, then spotted Herod leaving the way he’d come. From his satisfied smile, she’d say he’d been the winner of the short argument.

  Where was Nathan? She looked one way and then the other.

  The music slowed and stopped.

  She wobbled in place.

  Nathan took her elbow, saving her from another fall. His warm breath curled around her ear. “Are you ready to retire?”

  He was asking permission to take her to the marriage bed.

  God save her, she wasn’t half-ready.

  ***

  Alexandra’s heart pounded loudly in her ears, but not loudly enough to drown out the noise of the wedding guests celebrating the imminent consummation of her marriage. She sat on her knees in the middle of the plush bedroll filling the small tent. An oil lamp burned dimly overhead. Nathan stood at the door studying her. His cinnamon-colored eyes flamed with intensity. She didn’t want to be embarrassed, but was anyway.

  He took a step toward her.

  Her spine stiffened.

  Pausing, he looked away from her and made a pretense of examining the tent, a tent he was undoubtedly thoroughly familiar with.

  Bless him. He wasn’t going to force or rush her.

  Nathan found a pillow and sat on the hard-packed ground at the foot of the bed. His gaze settled on her again. “I am as uneasy as you are.”

  Not true. He looked calm as a reflection pool on a windless day. She couldn’t fault his motives though. The lie was meant to soothe and encourage her.

  She asked the question nagging at her. “What about your wish to wait until spring to marry? What if I conceive immediately? People might suspect our child is illegitimate.”

  “I considered putting off our joining.” He gave half a smile. “Not for long, mind you. And seeing you now, so lovely, with your hair down and barely dressed, I am doubly glad I decided against it. I am mulish when it comes to keeping oaths. I would be suffering quite badly now if I had decided to put off our wedding night.” His lips twitched with a smile. “If it worries you, you are welcome to persuade me otherwise.”

  Had the plentiful wine gone to his head? It was his decision to make, not hers. She meekly demurred. “You know best.”

  His smile broadened. “Moses’ wife probably said so for the first thirty-nine years they wandered around the desert.”

  More loud cheers erupted outside the tent. They shared embarrassed looks. The noise faded. Nathan turned serious. “The real reason I insisted we wait until spring to marry was to give you time to get used to the idea.” His eyes softened. “But the Lord had other plans. And here we are.”

  A cold draft swirled around her. She shivered. The gauzy tunic she wore felt cobweb-thin.

  Nathan came and kneeled before her. “Come, let me warm you.”

  She rose to her knees. The nearness of him provided heat enough for ten tents. His large, strong hands moved over her with unsettling gentleness. Whispered words floated about her. “Don’t be afraid.”

  She laid her hands on his chest and pressed her body to his. He smelled of myrtle and rich spices. She thrilled to the feel of his heart beating strong and fast against her palms.

  “Lex?” The sound of the intimate name on Nathan’s husky breath burned through her. Their noses brushed. His mouth lingered above hers. She longed for his kisses, but his lips skimmed her face.

  “Nathan,” she whispered the name against his cheek.

  Still, he held back.

  She turned her lips into his face and tasted of his smooth, salty skin. Nathan’s chest expanded beneath her hands with his indrawn breath.

  Her mouth grazed his. Hints of nuts and honey lingered on his lips. She licked her tongue along the velvet ridge of his upper lip, igniting a holy fire between them.

  And now his hands were everywhere, fingers kneading and stroking.

  Suddenly kissing Nathan felt as vital to her as her next breath. Stretching higher on her knees, she wrapped her arms around his neck and touched her lips to his. The soft melding flashed into urgent, ardent seeking. Pushed by ravenous needs she never guessed lived inside her, she nipped at Nathan’s lips. He made a feral noise deep in his throat. And still it wasn’t enough. She opened her mouth and cried out her pleasure at his tongue stroking over hers.

  Nathan gave a guttural groan and set her away from him. “Slow...�
�� He panted for breaths between words. “...got to...slow...down.”

  Had she offended him? Been too bold and brazen? Why hadn’t she remained still and taken what he had to give instead of...of... she couldn’t even say the words to herself.

  Why? Because she was impatient to taste, touch, feel, and experience every last thing. She shuddered at her lack of restraint and what Nathan must think. Disgusted with herself, she turned her head away.

  Nathan gave his first order as her husband. “Look at me.”

  She swallowed and squeezed her eyelids more tightly closed.

  “Wife.” His voice was kind but firm.

  She forced her eyes open. Her husband was staring at her as though he’d encountered a strange creature.

  Weeks of emotional upheaval since the roadside attack finally caught up with her. She burst into tears.

  Nathan lifted her onto his lap and cradled her in his arms. “Did I hurt you? I promised myself I would take care with you. And then I was grabbing you and...” Shame writ large in his eyes, he turned his head away.

  The truth dawned. He wasn’t disgusted with her, but with himself.

  Glad for the excuse to touch him, and wanting to console him as he’d comforted her, she took his face in her hand and made him look at her. “It felt wonderful.”

  He smiled weakly. “I...you...” shy now, he said, “You, ah, caught me off guard with your eagerness.”

  She spoke in a rush, “Did I offend you? I couldn’t help it.” Then it was her turn to be shy. “You are so beautiful...I...I...got carried away.”

  “Beautiful?” The dull light in the tent made it hard to tell, but she thought he was blushing.

  She covered her mouth. “This is why I keep my thoughts to myself.”

  He arched a brow. “What other intriguing ideas are swirling around your interesting mind?”

  Kiss me again, topped the list. But, she just shook her head.

  He persisted. “No? I bet you are full of surprises.”

  She sealed her lips more firmly.

  His chest rumbled with a laugh. “I like surprises.”

  Taking him at his word, she circled his neck with her arms and kissed him until they were both breathless. She pulled back.