The Warrior (The Herod Chronicles Book 1)

by Wanda Ann Thomas

  She stared blankly at James.

  He rubbed his hands together. “He’s never missed the required feasts. Not ever.”

  Lex’s eyes filled with tears. She didn’t know what made her sadder—James’s utter glee over this sad fact or that he kept calling Father he.

  James stepped closer. Her brother smelled of the dirt and hard work. “Don’t cry over me, Sister.” He wiped away a tear. “I’m not worth it.” Hands that had been soft and smooth were now rough and dry.

  His sad eyes broke her heart. She threw her arms around him. “You are worth it. Come home, James. I promise things will be better.”

  He freed himself and set her at arm’s length. “I’m staying with the stonecutters.”

  She choked back tears. “Why?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.” He glanced at Pinhas and then back at her, a mask of grim determination in place. “Don’t waste time worrying about me. I’m with good people, doing good work.” He patted her arm. “Go be happy, Alexandra. You deserve it.”

  Then he turned and walked back to the wall. Gripping a heavy hammer, he swung it up and down, matching the slow, steady rhythm of the other stonecutters. His shoulders rolled with easy grace. She’d been used to seeing them hunched up around his ears. He looked older. Stronger. Different.

  A small smile crossed her face. If he could hear her, he’d get that sour look on his face he always got when he was unhappy. Or would he? Maybe this change was for the best.

  Mary took hold of Lex’s hand. “We should go back.”

  Pinhas waved goodbye to his stonecutter friends. “I’ll keep an eye on him,” he promised.

  Lex nodded. “Thank you.” She put her head down and walked away. The sound of hammer on stone grew dimmer and dimmer. Reaching the Fish Gate, she slowed and looked back one more time at her brother. God go with you, James.

  She released a shuddering breath. A new family had been given into her keeping. They needed her. And she needed them. She lifted her chin and strode through the gate.

  ***

  The cloud of dust had been visible for the last hour. The air was gritty with it now. The slap of hobnailed sandals pounding on stone grew louder and louder.

  Royal loped up a small hill, and Nathan pulled the horse to a stop. Heavily armed soldiers marched six abreast up the straight, narrow road. It wasn’t a full Roman legion. Even so, a thousand well-trained soldiers could slice through an undefended city as easily as a knife slipping through olive oil. At their present rate, the Roman army would reach the gates of Jerusalem by nightfall.

  Nathan had ridden out of Jerusalem alone. It couldn’t be helped. He was one of the few men who owned a horse, and he was also one of the few men Herod might listen to. Messengers had been sent to Antipater and his sons, alerting them to the looming disaster. Nathan needed to find a way to slow Herod down until help arrived.

  Royal shifted nervously under him. Nathan flicked the reins clutched in his hand and descended toward the mouth of the lion.

  Herod left the vanguard behind and crossed the valley to meet him. The sun glinted off his black, woolly hair as his sleek white stallion pranced to a stop in front of Nathan.

  “Olive farmer,” Herod said, his black eyes guarded. “I don’t suppose you’ve come to join me?”

  Nathan hated that things had come to this. “I won’t take up arms against my people. I’ve had enough of that.”

  Herod nodded. “Jerusalem is safe from me. I swear it. My fight is with the Sanhedrin.”

  “No Israelite will see it that way.”

  Herod’s face darkened. “I’m as Jewish as you are.”

  Nathan leaned forward in his saddle. “Prove it. Turn your army around.”

  “Prove you are a man,” Herod spit back. “Join me. Or maybe you like groveling at the feet of those old leeches.”

  “I hate the corruption. That doesn’t mean I want to see the members of the Sanhedrin killed. There has to be another way.”

  Herod was his own worst enemy. Couldn’t he see that, choosing Rome over the Lord God of Israel would prove his critics correct?

  Herod slashed his hand through the air. “Coddling the Sanhedrin hasn’t worked. The rot is too deep. The seat of power needs to be gutted and rebuilt.” He wagged his thick brows. “Your father-in-law can be the first to die.”

  Nathan hesitated.

  “Ha!” Herod pointed, triumphant. “You’re tempted. Don’t deny it.”

  Nathan held onto his calm. “This is the Lord’s business.”

  “I’ve made it my business.”

  Nathan lifted a brow. “Why?”

  Herod’s lips firmed.

  Nathan slapped his palm to his forehead. “You aren’t satisfied with being Governor of Galilee. You want more.”

  Herod’s chest swelled. “I want to give my father a kingdom. What’s wrong with that? High Priest Hycranus wants to grow richer and fatter. And Simeon Onias wants to be high priest. The difference is that my ambition is naked. I am not hiding it behind priestly robes and false piety.”

  Nathan scrubbed his face. He thought Herod ten times a better man than Judea’s present elders. He was a learned man, a natural soldier, and a skilled leader. He had the talent to create gardens as beautiful as Solomon’s, and the vision to build cities as great as David’s. But Antipater couldn’t be king, and neither could Herod. And all the money and armies in the world wouldn’t change that immovable truth.

  Nathan strove to sound reasonable. “The people will never accept a king who doesn’t come from the line of David.”

  “They can complain all they want, as long as they bend the knee to my father.”

  Herod’s stallion nipped at Royal. Nathan clicked his tongue and Royal backed up. Nathan shot Herod a skeptical look. “I’ve never heard Antipater say he wanted to be king.”

  “I don’t know how Father tolerates bowing to that weasel Hycranus.” Herod uncorked his water pouch and took a long drink. Wiping his mouth, he smiled with grim satisfaction. “Let’s see how brave our high priest is when he finds a Roman army on his doorstep. I will enjoy making him kiss my feet.”

  Nathan’s jaw clenched. “This isn’t about your father. This is about your overblown pride.” For all Herod’s strengths, they weren’t balanced with humility and godliness. Nathan knew it and loved his friend despite it. He’d had always feared Herod’s pride would be his undoing. Still, the magnitude of Herod’s ambition, the blatant disregard for the decrees of God, and the depth of his contempt for the people of God stunned.

  “I’m surprised Sextus Caesar went along with you,” Nathan said. It went against the Roman policy of Pax Romana, the marrying of peace and prosperity. The rebel trouble in Galilee would pale compared to the uprising that would explode if Herod butchered the members of the Sanhedrin.

  “The bribe helped.” Herod grunted and laughed. “Bribes always help.”

  Nathan shook his head in disgust.

  Herod looked away. “Support me on this, Nathan, and Simeon Onias’s wealth is yours. Think of the good you can do. Think—”

  “Don’t,” Nathan said viciously. “Would you try to bribe your brothers?”

  Herod’s head snapped back around. “Don’t get self-righteous with me. You like money as well as any man.”

  “This isn’t about me. This is about you being a pigheaded bully.”

  Herod turned his stallion into Royal with a hard bump. Royal stumbled and neighed loudly.

  “Job’s bones!” Nathan complained, pulling back on his reins. The startled war horse regained his footing.

  Herod wheeled his horse about. He locked eyes with Nathan. “I’m asking you as a friend to stand by me.”

  Nathan gasped as though absorbing a punch. He’d take on Rome or Persia, or the pits of hell, if Herod asked. But he couldn’t ride into Jerusalem and cut down his fellow Jews. Not again. And Herod knew it better than anyone.

  “Beelzebub take you,” Nathan said, more disappointed than angry. He didn’t wa
nt Herod going down that path, either. Their friendship wouldn’t survive. It was dying as they spoke. Nathan exhaled heavily and looked away.

  Riders streamed over the hill—Antipater, Herod’s three brothers, Kadar, a handful of soldiers. Thank the Lord. Maybe one of them could talk some sense into Herod.

  Horses and men came to a halt. Fresh dust swirled up.

  Herod’s white teeth flashed. “Sextus Caesar sends his greetings.” He jerked his thumb at the approaching army. “Not bad, huh?”

  His brothers and Kadar shifted uncomfortably in their saddles. Antipater frowned. “Sextus Caesar ordered you to attack Jerusalem?”

  Herod’s smile faded. “Not in so many words. But Sextus was none too happy to hear how I was treated. He’s not going to sit back and let the Sanhedrin execute me.”

  “Sextus loaned you an army so you could protect yourself,” Antipater pointed out, then shook his head. “Having an army camped out in Galilee would have caused plenty of outrage. But this...” He waved in the direction of the invading soldiers. “How am I supposed to explain this?”

  Herod’s face darkened. He punched his fist into his palm. “Kill the pompous fools and you won’t have to answer to anybody.”

  Disappointment washed through Nathan. He shook his head sadly.

  “Have some patience, son,” Antipater soothed. “There is a right time to fight, and this isn’t one of them.”

  “I can’t turn back now. I’ll look like a fool.” Herod’s lips firmed. “I’ve started this, and I mean to finish it.”

  His bothers winced. Nathan frowned.

  Antipater blew out an impatient breath. “If you go, you are on your own. You won’t get any help from me.”

  “Own my own?” Herod repeated, a note of hesitation in his voice.

  “I’ve spent years wooing men and building alliances.” Antipater remained rock calm. “Go ahead and wreck the careful web I’ve constructed. Your brothers and I will go back home and leave you to figure out how to put everything right afterward.”

  Nathan flinched. He hated witnessing Herod get put in his place, no matter how much his hard-headed friend needed it.

  Black eyes churning like a storm-tossed sea, Herod bit down on his words. “Very well. I will return to Galilee and await word from you.”

  Antipater urged his horse forward, until he was even with his son’s white stallion. “Send Sextus’s army back home with my thanks.” He patted Herod’s arm. “I’ll send word when it’s safe for you to return to Jerusalem.”

  Herod gave a curt nod and wheeled his horse around. “Ha,” he called out. The stallion bolted forward, and man and beast disappeared behind a curtain of dust.

  A heaviness filled Nathan’s chest, watching the dust cloud grow smaller and smaller. Goodbye, friend. May the Lord’s mercy go with you.

  CHAPTER 33

  Alexandra fluffed up the soft pillow. She set it beside the others on her childhood bed. A week and a half had passed since Nathan had faced down Herod. The festival celebrations had come to a close. Eager to return to the farm, she’d come to her father’s home to bid goodbye to the room she and Lydia had shared. Dappled sunlight fell across the mosaic-tiled floor and danced over the floral mural covering the walls. The room spoke of wealth and privilege, but its grand opulence didn’t begin to compare with the wild beauty of Galilee’s rolling hills, or the simple pleasures of the olive farm.

  She tiptoed to the middle of the room and ran her hand over the smooth, wooden backs of the chairs she and Lydia had sat in for hour upon hour. Her fingers came away covered with dust. Smothered by memories of the relentless quiet and endless monotony of her former life, she moved to the lattice-covered window. Inhaling the fresh air, she peered through the diamond-shaped openings.

  Familiar sights greeted her. Benjamin and Banna, cherub-faced boys and future priests, wrestled on the ground in a nearby courtyard. A dozen black-clad, long-bearded Pharisees moved in a solemn procession down the main road. The white columns of Phillip Peter’s house. A woman looked out the second-story window—Phillip Peter’s new bride, Martha.

  Lex waved. Martha lifted her hand.

  Alexandra could be sitting there now as Peter’s wife, but then Nathan had come charging over that Galilean hill and into her life.

  Nathan didn’t just save her from the rebels that day. He rescued her from sitting at a window, watching life pass her by. Most marvelous of all, he’d saved her from a safe, dull marriage, and blessed her with one filled with happiness and love.

  She pressed her hands to her belly, where their baby grew. Praise you, Lord, for your grace and goodness to us.

  Excited chatter broke out below. She saw the reason for the commotion and smiled. Her beautiful husband was walking toward the house. He was coming for her, coming to take her home.

  Pinhas and a few other men from Rumah accompanied Nathan, as did Sapphira and Barjesus. One by one their Galilean neighbors had been stopping by the campsite to offer their apologies and to ask for forgiveness. It did Alexandra’s heart good to see Nathan talking and laughing with them.

  The black-clad Pharisees swarmed around Nathan. Men came out of nearby houses. They clapped Nathan on the back, offering him blessings and thanks. Sapphira and Barjesus stood off to the side, smiling their approval. The newly married couple sang Nathan and Alexandra’s praises wherever they went, and Lex knew they had helped Nathan’s reinstatement into the community tremendously.

  Lex and Sapphira liked each other better now, but she didn’t think they would ever be good friends. Lex couldn’t quite find it in her heart to forgive the slave maiden for trying to steal her splendid husband.

  Nathan spotted Lex in the window and smiled. Her breath hitched. She waved, spun around and crossed the room. Closing the door of her childhood room, she rushed down the stairs to join him.

  A short time later they found themselves alone, walking down the winding road leading to the Mount of Olives. A warm breeze helped them on their way. Purple lilies poked out of rocky crevices.

  Alexandra pushed closer to Nathan. “How did your meeting with Antipater go?” An official summons had arrived that morning.

  “He thanked me for killing Judas. He asked if there was anything we needed.”

  “That was kind of him.”

  The wind ruffled Nathan’s dark curls. “Antipater is many things, but kind is not one of them. He wants me to keep my eyes and ears open and tell him if anyone rises up to replace Hezekiah.”

  Her insides tensed. “Do you think that will happen?”

  Nathan’s fingers brushed against hers. “No. Hezekiah’s death has had a chilling effect. Everyone just wants to return home and get on with their own business. Herod predicted that’s what would happen.”

  She sighed. “Poor Herod. I imagine he would love to tell his critics ‘I told you so.’ And he’d be more than a little annoyed that you are being praised while he is being called every foul name there is.”

  Nathan ducked his head.

  She bit her lip. Nathan was taking Herod’s disgrace hard. “Will you go see him and try to mend your friendship?”

  “No.” Nathan’s hand circled hers. “He’d take my head off if I tried.”

  “Are you sure he won’t get over it?”

  “I’m sure. I know him. He thinks I should be in Sepphoris with him, sharing his misery and outrage. “

  She squeezed Nathan’s hand. “Life on the farm will be hard for the next year or two without Herod’s help.”

  Nathan pulled a leather pouch out of his pocket and dangled it in front of her. “Hold out your hand.” She blinked. “It’s heavy,” Nathan warned, setting the bulging bag on her open palm.

  Her fingers closed around soft leather. Coins clinked together. Her brows rose.

  Nathan laughed. “Antipater gave me a reward.”

  She threw her arms around him. “Rhoda will be thrilled.”

  They grinned like children at each other, knowing what a feat it was to get a smile ou
t of the no-nonsense woman.

  Nathan smoothed his hand over her back. “We will be able to pay Pinhas to finish building the house. I won’t have to hire out my labor to others, and I can immediately begin doubling the size of our orchard.”

  Excitement welling, Lex hugged Nathan and clutched the folds of his tunic. “Oh, and we can invite Barjesus and Sapphira and her parents to come and live and work on the farm like we talked about! And we can hire tutors for Timothy. And put aside a generous dowry for Mary.” She went up on her toes and gave Nathan a long kiss.

  His warm laugh curled around her. “What happened to the shy woman I married?”

  She pulled her arms into her chest and stepped back. “Whoops,” she said, looking around to see if anybody had been watching. A family was walking ahead of them, but their backs were to Alexandra and Nathan. She tried not to smile. “I can’t wait to get back home.”

  Nathan’s eyes darkened. “We will pitch our tent in the orchard.”

  She swallowed. “I would like that.”

  He gathered her close. “I thought you would.”

  “I never knew it could be this wonderful,” she whispered.

  “What?” He wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

  She pressed her hands to his chest. His heart beat strong against her palms. “This. Marriage. I didn’t know it could be this full of love and happiness.”

  He took her hand and lifted it to his mouth. Warm lips brushed over her fingers. “I have some more good news for you.” His beautiful eyes met hers. “We’ve only just started, my love. We’ve only just started.”

  The End

  ~ Historical Note ~

  The books in The Herod Chronicles series are a dramatization of historical events. My intentions are to present an overview of the events, while staying true to the spirit of the time.

  The idea for The warrior, and ultimately the series, came about while I was doing research for another book, and I read a short blurb about Herod the Great starting his career as the governor of Galilee. To please the Romans Herod killed Hezekiah, a man characterized as a bandit or a rebel, depending on your sympathies. Herod was put on trial for murder. Shemaiah was the only member of the Sanhedrin to speak up against Herod, prompting Herod to march on Jerusalem with a Roman army. These were the handful of facts I worked. The rest of the particulars of the story were all my invention.