Beloved Protector (Heartsong Presents)

by Darlene Mindrup

  “I told you that we were different,” she said. He had the feeling that although she was looking directly at him, she wasn’t really seeing him. Just as in the doorway, she seemed distant.

  He pushed his dark hair from his eyes and sighed heavily. Whenever they were together, he had to choose his words with care in order not to offend her in some way, yet whatever he said still seemed to be wrong. He got the distinct impression she was trying to put up walls between them that would be harder to scale than the siege walls that had today, finally, been completed around Jerusalem. Instead of months, it had taken four short days.

  In the same amount of time, Tapat had had time to build her own walls.

  He glared at her, wanting to tear away that shell of protection she had formed to hide her feelings. He was tempted to break that shell with a subtle seduction, to force her to admit her feelings, but he knew, as he had admitted to himself before, that that would accomplish nothing except his own downfall.

  He knew without conceit that she was attracted to him, but she was fighting it with every ounce of her being, and, instinctively, he knew that it centered on her faith in her God. Her attempt to put barriers between them was playing havoc with his ability to think clearly.

  He groaned inwardly. It was foolish to be having romantic thoughts anyway when in a short time he would be going into battle with the very real likelihood that he would be killed. If anyone should be putting up walls, it was him.

  His anger evaporated as quickly as it had come.

  “You’re probably right. We are different,” he acquiesced quietly and she jerked her head up in surprise. For just a second her guard was down enough for him to realize the pain he had just caused her. But her mask of indifference slipped quickly back into place.

  He got to his feet and retrieved his gear. There were times when he just wanted to shake the woman.

  “Titus has given us permission to leave tomorrow. It will be several weeks before our troops will be able to begin their assault, so I must return by then.”

  He could see the fear in her eyes. Fear for him or for her people?

  “We will leave early, so get some sleep.”

  He waited for her to say something, but she merely nodded her head. Was she, like him, wondering just what their future would entail? Perhaps that was what had brought about his comment regarding the stars. It was a simple comment, yet it only succeeded in driving deeper the wedge between them.

  “Good night.”

  He made his way to Arius’s tent, stopping just outside and glancing once more at the starry night sky. What had she said? Something about the stars speaking of her God?

  “If You’re up there,” he ground out, “remember that she loves You. Keep us safe on our journey.”

  The blazing star that shot across the darkness he took as a good omen.

  Chapter 6

  Tapat rolled up the blue tunic and placed it in the bag Andronicus had provided. She had washed her old tunic and changed into it in preparation for the trip to Pella. The journey would take them through many miles of desert before they reached the plains of Jordan, and she didn’t want the tunic Andronicus had given her to be dirty and tattered when they arrived.

  She added the comb and smiled wryly. Everything she owned in the world was in this little bag.

  With great trepidation she had overcome her reserve and dared to open Andronicus’s trunk and replace the silver coins he had insisted that she have—she refused to be so indebted to the man. Her upbringing forbade it.

  A stirring outside her tent let her know that Andronicus was about to arrive. Every nerve in her body jumped to screaming life whenever he was near. It frustrated her no end that the man affected her so. Her life had been much simpler before he had come into it.

  He tapped on the tent before coming inside. He noted the change of clothing with a lifted brow but said nothing.

  Nasab followed Andronicus inside with the morning meal. He gave Tapat a brief smile before arranging the food on the rug. He and Tapat had become friends of a sort over the past few days. It was Nasab who had brought her food to eat and water for bathing.

  Something about the man had reached out to Tapat and encouraged her, once she found out that he spoke Greek, to strike up a conversation. He had readily responded, which spoke of the man’s loneliness. She wondered if Andronicus even realized that his servant was longing for home but was determined to do what he considered his duty by staying.

  Nasab left and then returned carrying a garment over his arm. He handed it to Andronicus, who in turn handed it to Tapat.

  “A shawl. I know how Jewish women feel about being seen without a head covering.”

  She wanted to object, but he was right. It would be unseemly to travel in the company of men and not be more modestly dressed. Because he hadn’t retrieved it from the trunk, she wondered how he had come by it, but she didn’t dare ask. She was learning that some things were better left unsaid and some gifts better taken without comment.

  He then went to the trunk and removed the sack of coins Tapat had replaced earlier. He walked over to the bag that contained her tunic, opened it and dropped the coins inside. The look he gave her dared her to argue.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

  Her face warmed with embarrassment. “You have given me too much already.”

  “I thought we had settled that argument once and for all,” he said.

  Tapat took a slice of goat cheese and glanced at his set face. She shrugged, knowing that he wouldn’t give in. “It appears that we have.”

  She knew she sounded ungracious but she couldn’t help it. She frowned at his grin. He knew he had won this particular battle, and that irritated her more than the fact that she had been caught.

  He seated himself opposite her once again and began choosing food from that provided. She knew that once they left this camp and struck out into the surrounding countryside, the fare would become much simpler.

  She longed to be free from this camp and all that it represented, and she certainly didn’t want to be here when the true battle began, but, at the same time, she was reluctant to see the end of the trip they were about to embark on because it would mean she would no longer be able to see Andronicus.

  The thought that he might be killed tore at her heart. But even if he did survive the battle, he would leave her in Pella and she would never see him again. Their worlds were too far apart. She knew this to be true, yet she couldn’t stop loving him any more than she could stop breathing.

  She had prayed to Elohim to remove that love from her heart, but He had steadfastly remained silent. It was a thorn she would just have to live with.

  “How long will it take us to reach Pella?” she asked.

  He dipped the last bite of his bread into the bowl of olive oil. “I’m not certain. Usually it would take us four days moving at a good clip. However, having to travel slower along the way will significantly impede our progress. Probably a week at least.”

  She knew without being told that she was the reason for the more leisurely pace. She didn’t know whether to be thankful for the consideration or not.

  Andronicus gave her a long look. “What will you do when you get to Pella? Where will you live?”

  Tapat dusted bread crumbs from her lap. “I have friends there. They will help me find a place to live.”

  His only answer was a slight grunt. He was studying her again in that unnerving way. She cleared her throat nervously and began collecting the empty plates and stacking them for removal. “Will Nasab be going with us?”

  He shook his head. “Not this time. I have duties for him here.”

  Nasab entered the tent to remove the empty plates and gave Andronicus an affronted look, assuring Tapat that the decision was not his idea. She would miss the old man. She gave
him an understanding smile.

  “May Elohim be with you, Nasab. I hope we will meet again someday.”

  The old man’s eyes shimmered with tears. “And I you.”

  Andronicus glanced from one to the other, a frown drawing his brows together, and began to gather his gear; Tapat hastened to do the same.

  A jingling of harness from just outside alerted them that the other soldiers accompanying them had arrived and were ready to leave.

  Andronicus held the tent flap for her to pass through. She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening in alarm at the huge beast that was standing before her. She had to look a long way up to see the men mounted on their steeds.

  She stared appalled at Andronicus, who was waiting patiently by one of the horses. He motioned for her to come forward so that he could help her to mount. She took a hasty step in retreat, shaking her head vehemently.

  “I have never ridden a horse before. I have never even been on a donkey!”

  His lips twitched. “All you have to do is sit on it. I will do the leading.”

  She swallowed hard. The horse was a magnificent animal, the color of the desert sand. But as impressive as the beast was, there was no way she was going to ride it.

  Andronicus must have recognized the stubborn set of her chin because he walked over and in one swift movement lifted her into the saddle. She grabbed for the horse’s mane, clinging like a leech. She couldn’t decide if she was more angry or more frightened, but she didn’t have time to do anything about either when the horse shifted beneath her, forcing her to cling tighter to his mane.

  She glared at Andronicus’s back as he turned away. The snickering of the other soldiers brought hot color to her cheeks and closed her mouth on the blistering words she was tempted to speak. She settled her shawl over her head and ignored them all.

  * * *

  Andronicus looked around at the other men who would be traveling with them. He could practically feel Tapat’s eyes burning a hole into his back. “Are we ready?”

  Arius slapped a fist against his chest. “Ready, Tribune.”

  Five men were not a lot to rely on if trouble did occur, but he would wager his months’ worth of salt that these five he had chosen could outfight twice as many, if not three times as many, assailants.

  His friend Arius was the only man who had ever bested him in practice combat. Germanic blood ran through his veins, and he stood taller than any man in his cohort, the bulging of his muscles speaking of his many hours of training. If any trouble arose, he wanted Arius there to guard his back so that he could focus on Tapat’s safety.

  The other four men were also some of his best. He had had his doubts about Crassus when he had first joined his command, but the young man had proved himself worthy over time.

  Celsus, Salvius and Didius, despite being battle hardened, were prone to pranks often. Even now they were making sport among themselves, but one look from him and they settled into silence.

  Nasab glared sulkily from the doorway of the tent. Andronicus would miss the old man, but he would only slow them down. It had taken a great deal of persuasion on his part to get Nasab to agree to stay behind. Although Nasab was a servant, he had become more like a friend. Andronicus saluted him with a finger to the forehead as they passed. “I will see you when I return.”

  The sun was just rising in the eastern sky when the group picked its way carefully through the many soldiers littered about the hillsides surrounding Jerusalem. More than fifty thousand men, along with horses, tents and equipment, darkened the hills and valleys.

  The soldiers watched them pass by with only mild interest. When they had traveled for several miles, the crowd of campsites began to thin.

  They ambled along at a leisurely pace until they were well outside the perimeter of Roman troops. Beyond lay the camps of the mercenaries, thousands of men who would kill their own mothers for money. Andronicus gave them a wide berth.

  He glanced back to check on Tapat, riding just behind him. She met his look with one of pure venom. He bit back a smile knowing it would only infuriate her further.

  Still, she was doing well for her first time on a horse. He hoped that as she adjusted, he would be able to pick up the pace. It didn’t surprise him that with her natural grace, she had instinctively adjusted to the gait of the steed.

  He turned back to keep watch on the terrain around them. Nothing moved except for several kites flying high in the sky. The birds were a sign that something was dead not far away. He moved farther out so that they would not be on an intercept course.

  Whichever way he turned, his inspection was met by a sandy, rocky terrain almost devoid of life. Dried foliage dotted the rolling hillsides, while other plants struggled to survive the scorching summer heat.

  Celsus began to sing a song. His baritone voice was not unpleasant, though the words were hardly meant for a lady’s company.

  Andronicus turned and gave him a speaking look that dropped him into silence. Celsus glanced at Tapat in embarrassed understanding and then chose another song. It was still as bawdy, but because he was singing in Latin, Andronicus doubted that Tapat could understand the words. Celsus’s intent, no doubt.

  Andronicus still didn’t appreciate the noise, as any brigands in the area would undoubtedly be drawn by the sound. Before he could remonstrate with the man, Arius turned on him.

  “Quiet! Do you want every crazed zealot in the area to know where we are?”

  Celsus glanced around hurriedly, a sheepish look covering his face. “Pardon, Centurion. I wasn’t thinking.”

  Arius glared back at him. “Indeed. Remember that it will not only be your life if we are attacked.”

  A thoroughly rebuked Celsus retreated into silence, his attention now focused fully on the job at hand. Satisfied, Andronicus returned to studying the area. He wondered for the hundredth time how the people could be so devoted to this desolate land. As for himself, he longed for the green hills of Rome.

  He glanced back at Tapat and thought that she had fallen asleep until he noticed the movement of her lips. She was praying to her unseen God. He glanced around nervously, almost expecting to see Him appear, but they traveled on in undisturbed silence.

  The sun was beginning to descend when they reached the outskirts of a seemingly abandoned village. Such was the sight all over the countryside. With the coming of the Romans, villagers had fled their homes and headed for the seeming sanctuary of Jerusalem. Andronicus wondered just how many of these homes would never see their owners again.

  If the place were truly abandoned, it would be the perfect spot to stay the night. The men dismounted, and he stayed with Tapat while they searched through the area for hidden enemies. When they were satisfied that the village was deserted, they nodded at Andronicus. Everyone except Arius had returned without incident. Andronicus began to relax.

  He climbed from his mount and went to help Tapat from hers. She stared down at him tiredly, no longer full of the fight he had come to expect from her. She placed her hands on his shoulders, and he helped her to the ground.

  She would have collapsed to the sand if his hands had not been spanning her tiny waist. He winced in commiseration.

  “Your legs aren’t used to riding and certainly not for such a long time.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, content to hold her for as long as necessary. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, pushing out of his arms. “I am well. Why have we stopped?”

  He frowned at her rejection of his touch. “It would be better for us to stay here than out in the open.”

  They glanced around at what had once been a thriving little village. Not even so much as a chicken gave any sign of life.

  “Tribune,” Arius called from the far end of the village. The anxiety in his voice brought four swords swiftly sliding from their scabbards. Andronicus
drew his own, pushing Tapat behind him.

  The centurion made his way quickly to their side.

  “We have a problem,” he told Andronicus, and something in his voice alerted Andronicus that it was a problem that didn’t require swords. He sheathed his and the others followed suit.

  “Is the village not abandoned?” Andronicus asked.

  Arius glanced briefly at Tapat. “Not exactly.”

  “What does that mean?” Andronicus asked him impatiently. He was tired and in no mood to play games.

  “If you will follow me.”

  Arius started to lead the way and the others followed. Arius stopped, glancing once again at Tapat. “Perhaps it would be best if the others remain here.”

  Andronicus noted that warning tone again. He nodded at the others. “Watch over the woman. I’ll return shortly.”

  He followed Arius until he stopped at a hut almost at the end of the village. A slight cough from inside warned Andronicus that the house was occupied. He glanced at Arius.

  Arius pushed open the door to the hut and ducked inside. Andronicus followed, his gut telling him that he wasn’t going to like what he found.

  The first thing that hit him was the stench. He involuntarily gagged, stepping back to catch his breath. It reminded him of the dungeons below the arena.

  The fading daylight coming in from the open doorway barely dented the darkness in the house. As his eyes adjusted, Andronicus could see Arius standing by a bedside and looking down. He was holding his cape across his nose to block the smell.

  In the bed lay a woman and child. The woman was so emaciated, she looked like a skeleton with a thin layer of skin. He shuddered at the sight. Tapat hadn’t looked much better when he had first found her.

  Dull, glazed eyes stared up at them uncomprehendingly.

  Andronicus pushed Arius aside and went down on one knee, struggling to overcome the stench.

  He felt the woman’s forehead and found her burning with fever. She was conscious, but barely.

  The child lying beside her was a mere infant, still in swaddling cloths, which were soiled and reeking. The infant obviously hadn’t been changed in days. It lethargically suckled at its mother’s breast, so close to death that it could merely whimper in distress.