“I’ll be with you momentarily.”
Andronicus turned back to Tapat. “Stay in this tent. No matter what, do not go outside. Understand?”
She nodded, swallowing down panic at the thought of him leaving.
“I will return as soon as I am able to take you somewhere where you can take care of nature’s call, and then we will sit down and have a meal together.”
She nodded again, surprised at his insight, and then he quickly disappeared outside.
Tapat took the bag he had given her and slowly crossed to the trunk. She clutched the bag with both hands, holding it against her chest as she tried to get up enough courage to open the trunk and return the coins to their proper location.
Before she had been piqued by curiosity to peer into the trunk, but she now realized that that would be an invasion of his privacy.
She gently laid the bag on the top of the trunk and returned to the sleeping mat, relieved, as she was once again surrounded by the circle of the brazier’s light.
It bothered her to sit so idle. Before, she had always had something to do to occupy her thoughts. Now, they threatened to burst forth from the confines of her mind that had always firmly held them in check. She did the only thing that she knew to do, the only thing that always seemed to help calm her mind: she prayed.
* * *
Andronicus gave his orders to his centurions, who then passed them on to his troops. He looked around him at the looming walls of Jerusalem and realized what a daunting task this was going to be. Building siege walls was always a tedious and time-consuming business, but what it took in time, it saved in countless lives.
Titus was right about one thing, though: it would certainly keep the men from becoming bored with waiting out the holed-up zealots. They were fighting men and not used to being idle. When not in battle, they were either training or carousing. Sitting still was something they thoroughly detested.
The men set to with a will that surprised Andronicus. They were not particularly enamored of the more mundane physical tasks they were often asked to perform. Still, the sooner the project was completed, the sooner the city would become weakened. And the sooner the city became weakened, the sooner they would be able to scale the walls with less resistance. And then the battle would truly begin.
He wasn’t certain if it was the desire for battle that spurred the men on, or the knowledge that the sooner this city fell, the sooner they would return home.
But to what? A brief respite before they were sent out to battle more enemies? The life expectancy of a soldier of Rome was very short. It was one of the reasons that soldiers couldn’t be taller than a certain height. It saved in the cost of uniforms to be able to pass them along once a soldier died. The thought made Andronicus suddenly ill. He looked around at the faces of his men and wondered how many of them would never make it home. For that matter, would he?
This thought brought Tapat vividly to his mind. He had to get her someplace safe before the fighting began. If he didn’t survive...
He pushed the rest of the thought away. It didn’t bear thinking about. He surprised his men by grabbing a charred timber from the burnt siege engines and helped to lift it onto the growing wall of debris.
Sweat poured from their faces in the hot summer heat, yet each man worked industriously without complaint. The walls that Titus had originally thought would take weeks would be finished far sooner.
Andronicus decided that he was not needed here any longer and so removed himself to his tent. His heartbeat accelerated with each step that brought him closer to his destination. He paused outside, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves before entering. The thought of the coming invasion didn’t stir his nervous tension as much as the woman who awaited him inside.
He found her curled up on his sleeping mat. Her even breathing told him that she was sound asleep.
Stepping quietly, he made his way to her side and knelt next to her. He reached out a hand to touch her but stayed the impulse, not wanting to awaken her. It was much easier to study her with her guard down.
One small, calloused hand was curled under her cheek, the other clutching his pillow against her chest. The innocent picture she made caused such a surge of protective instinct he could barely breathe.
Although he had always seen her as a rather plain little thing, her face in repose had a peace that transcended the mere physical. Perhaps that was what had always drawn him to her. He hungered for such peace himself but, as a soldier of Rome, that was something he had never been able to find. He knew that it had something to do with the religion she embraced. He had seen that same peace time and time again, even with people facing roaring lions. Even his friend Lucius demonstrated that same kind of peace after embracing this Christian religion.
Her dark hair was matted after having not seen a comb in days, its dullness, he felt sure, due to a lack of sustenance. Before her hair had hung long and glistening down her back and he had often had to stifle the urge to touch it. Even with it lank and tangled, he found himself still stifling that same urge.
He wondered, not for the first time, what she would look like in a colored toga, her hair intertwined with ropes of pearls. Realizing that his breathing was becoming constricted, he shook off such fantasies and touched her gently on the shoulder.
She awoke with a start, clutching the pillow more tightly to her chest. As awareness dawned, wariness crept into her eyes once again. She slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Are you hungry?”
Her wide, blinking brown eyes reminded him of the roe deer that roamed the region.
“I am, a little.”
His lips twitched. That had to be the greatest understatement of all time. After several days without food, she had to be more than a little hungry. Her body was thin to the point of emaciation.
He continued to study her until he saw the color blooming in her cheeks at his close scrutiny. He got swiftly to his feet and held out his hand.
“Come with me. I know of a small wadi where you can wash up if you wish. There’s not much water in it now, but there should be enough, and it’s somewhat private.”
She gave him a look of relief and placed her hand in his. He pulled her to her feet, not releasing her immediately. They stood holding hands, each searching the other’s eyes for something neither was fully aware of.
His own growling stomach reminded him that it had been some time since he had eaten, as well. He smiled wryly.
“We had best hurry. Daylight is fading fast.”
As they navigated the circuitous route of the camp, soldiers stopped what they were doing to stare. It was not uncommon for women to follow the soldiers, but they were prostitutes looking for easy money. Even in the outermost reaches of the empire, the emperor always managed to pay his troops. Wise, since that was what the security of Rome depended upon.
Whenever a man studied Tapat too long, Andronicus gave him a glare that soon sent his look elsewhere. He knew that the men must be thinking that Tapat was his personal concubine, but it was better that than that they try to approach Tapat whenever he wasn’t around.
He bit back a smile at their obvious surprise. He was known for choosing his women from those who were of the highest caliber of cleanliness. They must surely think he was desperate, but he could stand the slight to his reputation as long as it protected Tapat.
He led them onto a path that took them away from the nearest campfires. When they reached the edge of the wadi, Andronicus stopped Tapat with a hand on her arm.
“Wait here until I clear a path.”
He moved forward with caution, using his spear to stir the brush around the flowing water in case a snake or some other miscreant might be lingering in the vicinity. When he was satisfied, he motioned Tapat forward. He met her look, his eyes holding a warning.
“Be careful
. I will be farther back to give you some privacy, but I will be close enough. Call if you need me.”
Nodding, she moved past him and knelt by the water. He watched her a moment and then moved away.
Chapter 4
Tapat knelt at the edge of the wadi and plunged her hands into the cool, running water. Crickets sang their cadences around her, mingled with the faint voices of the soldiers coming from the camp in the distance.
Because of the intense heat of the sharav, few wadis still had running water. She wondered how this one had been spared. Thanking Elohim for this extra blessing, she began rubbing the water over her arms and face.
Oh, how she longed for the warm baths of her former mistress’s villa. That time seemed so long ago now that it was more like a dream than a reality. If not for the gold that had been given to her and had helped to pave an easier path, she might have thought she had dreamed that former life.
The water wasn’t plentiful enough to fully bathe, but she relished the feeling of the cool night air touching her exposed wet skin. If only she had a way to wash her tunic. She felt so dirty, especially beside Andronicus. How did the man remain so clean amid all this dirt?
And her hair. How long had it been since it had seen a good washing? Leaning farther out into the water, she was able to duck her hair below the surface enough to get it thoroughly wet. She scrubbed at her scalp, doing the best she could with nothing to clean it with. Beggars couldn’t be choosers and this would just have to do.
Andronicus’s voice came to her from the darkness.
“We need to go back now, Tapat.”
She wrung the water from her hair. It might not be completely clean, but it felt much better.
“Coming.”
She finished her ablutions and hurriedly made her way back to Andronicus’s side. His glance passed quickly over her, and his lips tugged up into a smile.
“Feel better?”
She returned his smile. “Much.”
He lightly gripped her arm and headed them back to the camp. She tried hard not to notice the looks of the men as they passed through the camp, but she couldn’t help but register their astonished expressions. She sighed inwardly. She could hardly blame them. She must look like something that a dog had dragged through the streets.
When they reached Andronicus’s tent she was surprised to find that a meal was waiting. A thick rug had been laid on the floor with food set out on plates in its center. She hesitated, glancing quickly at Andronicus. He motioned to the rug.
“Have a seat.”
She seated herself cross-legged on the rug and Andronicus took his place across from her. She studied the food and then gave Andronicus a speaking look that he obviously read very well.
“No, soldiers do not always eat this well. The extra rations are because of Titus, the emperor’s son.”
Whatever the reason, the food made her mouth water. Bowing her head, she gave thanks to Elohim for the bounty and for His care. When she opened her eyes, Andronicus was watching her.
“Tell me about this God you serve,” he demanded softly. He handed her a platter, allowing her to choose her own food.
She began filling her plate, trying to decide the best way to begin. How did one describe the Creator of the universe in just a few sentences?
“What exactly do you want to know?”
Andronicus filled his own plate and shrugged. “I don’t know. What makes you so certain that your God is the only god there is? For that matter, what makes you believe there even is a God?”
Tapat frowned, thinking carefully before reaching for the subject he would most likely respect.
“Your gods, and those of other heathen nations, cause chaos among themselves and the people who serve them. This is not the world we live in.” She hesitated, but he nodded for her to go on.
“Our world is a world of order. Everything Elohim created is for a purpose, and it fulfills that purpose efficiently. Only mankind disrupts that order. When we follow His commands for our life, we find the peace that brings order.”
Andronicus had stopped eating and stared at her with narrowed eyes. “And how is all of this part of that order?”
He motioned around him and she realized that he was talking about the war on Jerusalem.
“God sent His Son to bring peace to the world, but the Jews have rejected Him.”
His brown eyes sparked with an inner anger that she didn’t understand.
“And those who didn’t reject Him, what of them? Where was your God of peace when they were in a Roman arena being torn apart by lions?”
She shivered at his graphic description. Sighing, she was fairly certain she would never be able to explain such a thing to his satisfaction. Greater Christians than she had tried...and failed. It was something that was understood by the heart; another thing he would probably never understand.
“He was there,” she told him adamantly. “The kind of peace I speak of is not the same as what you are envisioning. I do not mean a world without war or hardship, but a people united with Elohim. The word we Jews use for peace means a repair of something that was torn apart. It means that the relationship that mankind once had with Elohim has been put back together by Christ’s blood.”
He sat back, his food forgotten.
“So, you’re speaking of a peace that comes from within.”
She nodded her head. “Yes. The Messiah Himself told a story of two men who built their houses, one on sand, another on rock. Neither one was free from storms, but the one on rock stood firm. He has not promised us a life without problems, only that He will stand by us when those problems come.”
Andronicus once again concentrated on his food. “That makes sense,” he agreed. “How exactly did this relationship with your God get torn apart?”
She began at the beginning and, as briefly as possible, explained Elohim’s plan of salvation from the Garden of Eden to Christ’s death on the cross. As always, there was a catch in her throat when she tried to explain the crucifixion, tears hovering just near the surface.
“And the Jews in Jerusalem don’t believe this?”
She shook her head sadly. “No. Those who accepted the Messiah fled when the signs our Lord warned about began coming to fruition.”
“To Pella,” he stated.
She hesitated. It had only been a few years since Nero had waged war on Christians, trying to eradicate those he considered a threat to Roman tolerance. If Andronicus knew of the whereabouts of the Christians, were they then in danger with Rome?
He read her thoughts. “I am no danger to you, Tapat, nor to your fellow believers,” he told her quietly.
“And Rome?”
He shook his head, resuming his eating. “Rome has more problems than it can deal with right now. Your fellow believers are safe for the time being.”
That, at least, was good to know.
They finished their meal in silence. Tapat took the goblet of wine he handed her and stared into its ruby-colored depths. She was not used to the rich, fruity drink. She was much more accustomed to the posca, the watered-down wine of the poor. One more thing to show just how far different she and Andronicus were.
“What are you thinking about so hard?”
She jerked her head upward at the softly spoken question but decided to be honest. “I was thinking about how different we are.”
He frowned. “Not so different,” he disagreed. “Other than the fact that I am a man and you are...” His voice became husky as he studied her once again. “You are definitely a woman.”
Tapat went cold all over at his look and then her cheeks heated with color. She turned her attention back to her plate to break the connection with those arresting cinnamon-colored eyes.
* * *
Andronicus recognized her trepidation. In t
ruth, she had a good reason to be afraid. The longer he was in her presence, the harder he had to fight with his baser instincts. Another thing the Roman army had done for him. It was hard to maintain any semblance of humanity when touched by so much depravity day after day.
He got to his feet and went to his trunk. Opening it, he rummaged around inside until he found what he was looking for.
Coming back to Tapat, he dropped a comb into her lap. She jerked back, glancing up at him in surprise.
“I thought you might like to have that,” he told her. He then placed a blue tunic made of soft linen next to her. “And that.”
She stared at him in amazement, and no little amount of disappointment, and it didn’t take much deliberation to realize that she was thinking he had acquired them for a mistress.
“I purchased them in Caesarea for my sister,” he told her. “I can get her others and I think perhaps you need them more.”
At her belligerent look, he shook his head, his own face setting with grim resolve. “Don’t argue.”
Their silent battle of wills lasted several moments before Tapat finally dropped her gaze and picked up the soft garment. She glided her hand across the surface before glancing at him again.
“It would be nice to be clean,” she capitulated reluctantly, and he allowed himself to relax.
A servant came to remove the leftover food and the blanket. Tapat got to her feet, clutching the garment to her chest. She finally met his look with one of appreciation.
“Thank you.”
He nodded. “I will have some water brought to you so that you can fully cleanse yourself. I know there wasn’t much you could do at the wadi. I just thought it might be nice for you to be free from camp for a few moments.”
He took the cruse of olive oil that had accompanied their meal from the departing servant and handed it back to Tapat. She slowly reached out and took it.
Picking up his cape from where he had laid it, he fixed her with a look meant to relieve her of some of her anxiety. “I will be close by.”
It took every ounce of strength he possessed to leave that tent with her sitting there looking so lost and afraid.
Beloved Protector (Heartsong Presents) Page 4