Child of the King
Page 33
Somehow she remained standing, but as he reached her she began to sink downward. Catching her by the shoulders, Metellus lifted her in his arms and, still with that peculiar rush of energy, looked quickly around him. The black cloud surrounding the Zealots had dissipated, and they now surged furiously toward the Romans. Lysias barked orders, and as his men positioned themselves, he turned swiftly toward Metellus.
“They’ve brought a coach for Megara. Take it—there’s a physician at the fort.”
Metellus nodded, meeting Lysias’ eyes for a moment before the man turned away to face a new battle. He saw the small coach far off to the side, and carried Megara toward it. Its driver jumped down to assist him, and they laid her gently inside. Metellus got in beside her. The driver climbed quickly back to his seat, and the coach jerked forward.
She was not moving. Her face was swollen and bleeding, and blood covered the front of her gown. Her red hair was out of its pins and framed her face, accentuating its whiteness. He placed his hand tightly over the wound.
“Megara,” he said urgently, but she did not open her eyes or seem to hear him.
The inner strength he had felt began to desert him. He tried to look over his shoulder and noticed that his wound did not seem to be bleeding much. He had seen men, after a battle, who were said to have been bleeding on the inside…and they usually died. For a moment his head grew light and he tried to remember exactly what had happened. She had been trying to warn him. He thought, but couldn’t be sure, that when she saw the Giant about to shoot an arrow at Metellus, she had deliberately thrown herself at the man with the dagger.
He moved his hand for a moment, but her wound was still oozing blood. He replaced his hand, and as he did so, Megara’s eyes opened.
“I don’t know—how to explain to her,” she murmured, so low he had to bend close to her lips. Her once beautiful face was drawn and stark, already becoming like the face of a corpse.
“Is it Rachel? Tell me what you want to say to her,” he urged, willing himself to fight his own dizziness.
A tear ran from the corner of one staring eye. “She would not believe it. Tell her—I am not the same.”
“You were wounded for my sake, Megara. I owe you my life.”
“No.” Her head made the barest movement, back and forth. “Not my life, to hold—or to give. Belongs to—Paulus said—”
Metellus waited, but she grew silent, and her body relaxed. He wanted to speak to her, to ask questions, but he couldn’t seem to think clearly. He shook his head and looked out the window. They were already going through the city gate…he must have lost consciousness for a moment. The coach clattered through the deserted streets of the lower city. Then, suddenly, they were in the upper city, and for a moment his head cleared.
He hung half out the window and called to the driver. “Do you know the house of Benjamin, the physician?”
“Yes, sir!” The soldier turned to look at him.
“It’s closer than the fort. Stop there.”
The coach began to slow and finally jolted to a stop. He pushed open the door and saw that Benjamin was rushing through the doorway.
Without asking questions, Benjamin leaned inside the coach and lifted Megara’s shoulders, while Metellus held onto her legs. As Benjamin backed away from the coach, Metellus moved forward and released Megara to him, and the physician carried her swiftly inside. Metellus was telling the driver to wait when Rachel ran out and stopped, staring with horror at the blood soaking into the front of his tunic.
“It’s hers,” he said brusquely. “Go and see to her, Rachel.”
“What happened?”
He shook his head. “Revenge—the Sicarii.”
“You look—are you certain you are not hurt, Metellus?”
“Please go to Megara. I don’t think she will live.”
She gave him a last, quick look and hurried inside the house. He followed, and went at once to the kitchen and asked the cook for a cup of water. She gave it to him, as if accustomed to seeing people in the house covered with blood. He washed his reddened hands in a basin, and walked into another room where Samuel sat, his eyes large. Lazarus must have gone into the room with the others.
“Is that the lady that helped me?” Samuel asked solemnly.
Metellus sat abruptly in a chair. He wanted to lie down, but knew the boy would be alarmed. “Yes,” he said. “She is badly hurt, Samuel. You should pray for her.”
The boy obediently bowed his head, and Metellus leaned forward, elbows on his knees, so that he wouldn’t leave blood on the chair…although he still didn’t think his own wound was bleeding much. He listened absently to the sounds of movement and voices in the next room, seeming to have lost his ability to concentrate…
Rachel leaned over the bed, helping Benjamin remove Megara’s clothes. Lazarus turned away until they had covered her upper and lower body with blankets, while Benjamin examined the vicious puncture in her abdomen. He began to clean around it, his expression grave.
“Is there anything I can do?” Lazarus asked.
Benjamin shook his head and said aloud, “Pray.”
Rachel saw that Megara’s eyelids were fluttering. She seemed to be trying to speak. Benjamin lifted her head and held a cup of water to her lips. The water ran down the side of her bloodied mouth, and Benjamin laid her head gently down. Her eyes opened. She looked without recognition at Benjamin, then her gaze moved and fixed on something far away…something they could not see.
“Megara,” Rachel said quietly.
Megara kept staring straight ahead. “You,” she murmured. “I wanted to tell—” Her voice drifted from her as if it were a mist, gradually fading. “Paulus—and Alysia—tried to—” She could not seem to form into words what she wanted to say.
Rachel took one of her hands. “What is it, Megara? What about my mother and father?”
“They tried to tell me—I wanted you to know. It was—because of them…”
“What? What was because of them?”
“Do you—forgive me?”
“Yes. Yes, I have forgiven you.”
Megara relaxed her stiffened muscles. She sighed, and whispered, “It was because of them that I—”
Suddenly, Rachel thought she understood. “Megara, are you a believer?”
A long moment passed, and she did not answer…but when her eyes closed, she was smiling.
* * * *
Samuel raised his head and looked at the man across from him. Metellus was bent forward and had one hand resting on his forehead, with the other arm lying limply across his knees.
“Metellus, something is wrong with you. I’m going to get Benjamin.” The boy jumped up from his seat.
“No—wait, Samuel. Wait until they’re finished.”
“You need help, Metellus!”
Not knowing what he was about to do, Metellus tried to stand. A succession of dark spots burst across his vision until he could no longer see or feel anything, and his long body crashed to the floor.
* * * *
It was almost summer again. The field outside Simon’s house was bright with wildflowers, yellow, interspersed with white. Rachel could see it from where she sat on a rock with the sheep around her…the same rock from which she had, last year, shot a wolf. Now the sun’s rays shone through the surrounding trees to turn the meadow into a living thing, pulsating with light, and a breeze caused the flowers to nod and wave.
Looking up, she saw a figure walking toward her…but it was not the man she wished to see. She rose and waited for him to approach.
“Benjamin,” she said, hesitantly.
“Rachel.” He reached out and took both her hands. “I have come to tell you goodbye, my dear.”
She said nothing, and he went on. “I have known for some time—ever since his return. And then, the way you wouldn’t leave him, the way you looked at him. Even had he not—” Benjamin paused. His dark face bent close to hers. “Even had he not lived, I would have known it was too late
for me.”
“Benjamin,” she whispered. “You waited so long, and so patiently. You are a good man. You saved him, with God’s help.”
“He was beyond my help. God saved him.”
“You did everything you could. I thank you for that.”
He smiled. “For a short space of time, Rachel, I told myself that you belonged to me. I don’t think I ever really believed it.”
“I am sorry.” She lowered her head. The blue mantle she wore hid her face, and he placed a hand under her chin.
“I brought someone with me.”
Her eyes met his. “He is well enough?”
Benjamin turned to glance behind him. Another man had come out of Simon’s house, and paused.
“He is well,” said Benjamin. “Enough.”
He nodded at her, and began to walk away. Rachel watched until he approached the other tall figure, stopped for a moment, and disappeared into the house. She walked swiftly through the trees…she came to the meadow, and began to run. The mantle fell about her shoulders.
The man did not run, but his pace was strong, and sure. His gaze was on her face, and when she reached him he did not pause but took her shoulders strongly in his arms and kissed her.
He said roughly, as he pulled away, “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Rachel saw the question in his eyes. “Do you have to ask, Metellus?”
After a moment of searching her own eyes, he said, “Rachel, are you sure?”
Her hands slid down his arms to his own hands. “I should have waited. I should have refused to even see Benjamin. I thought I was seeking God’s will, Metellus, but I never had peace about it. I was trying to—solve my own problem. I gave you up to God, as I should have, but I should not have given up hope on us. Not so soon.”
When he did not answer, she pressed his hands and said, smiling, “I should have waited at least twenty more years—as I once vowed to do.”
He returned her smile…a look so intimate, so full of meaning and purpose, that it took her breath away.
“God never meant for you to fulfill that vow. Do you see how he worked things out? He used Megara in ways she never even knew. She saved my life, Rachel.”
Tears came into Rachel’s eyes. “She meant to tell me something, before she died. Metellus, I think she was a believer.”
He nodded, slowly. “Yes, I think so, too. Was she able to ask your forgiveness?”
Rachel lowered her head. “Yes. How I wish I hadn’t spoken to her as I did, that day at the palace!”
“That is something that cannot be changed, Rachel, and if you learned from it, is best forgotten.” She didn’t move, and he said quietly, “Darling, look at me.”
Her head came up, her eyes meeting his.
“I would not have been a good husband for you—before. I was right about that. And I still have much to learn. But I want to love you and lead you and protect you…for the rest of my life.”
She went close into his arms again, clasping him hard around his waist, her head against his shoulder.
“Marry me,” he said. “Today.”
“So soon?” she answered, tightening her embrace. “I hardly know you!” She felt the vibration in his chest as he laughed softly, and she asked, “What then—after we’re married?”
Metellus’ gaze swept over the meadow, not seeing it, seeing instead a future bright with promise, and fraught with danger. “As your father said…do his work while it is still day, because the night is coming.” He drew back, just enough to look into her eyes. “Let’s go, and serve our King.”
THE END
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
Metellus and Rachel are fictional characters in this historical novel. Among the characters who really existed is Claudius Lysias, who survived this imaginary battle and later had an interesting encounter with the apostle, Paul (Acts 23).
Nero, here depicted as a youth, became emperor in 54 AD. One of the first…and worst…persecutions of Christians occurred under his rule. Although the Bible is silent as to the fates of Peter and Paul, early church tradition holds that they were martyred…along with many others…in the reign of Nero.
This novel is Book III in the Woman of Sin trilogy. For more information, visit http://www.debradiaz.com/.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Award-winning author Debra Diaz has written several novels in the historical fiction genre and one contemporary mystery for young readers. Her goal as a writer is to not only entertain, but to challenge and inspire!
http://www.debradiaz.com/
Table of Contents
PROLOGUS A.D. 50
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXV
CHAPTER XXVI
AUTHOR’S NOTE