Warring Desires (The Herod Chronicles Book 3)

by Wanda Ann Thomas

  Gabriel was prepared to place his own life at risk, but he’d never forgive himself if harm came to Leonidas. He straightened. “You aren’t going anywhere. It’s too dangerous.”

  Headstrong as a bull, Leonidas made a pretense of studying the sky. “There’s no sign of rain. That’s in our favor.”

  Gabriel blew out an exasperated breath. “When will you learn to take no for answer?”

  His brother grinned. “Probably not until we are both old and feeble.”

  Gabriel kicked the ground, stubbing his toes against stones worn smooth by the thousands of worshipers. “Mother of mercy!” he complained shaking his foot against the sting. He directed his frustration at James. “Were you going to allow me to walk down the street dressed in my priestly garments? You will make a poor doorkeeper.”

  James smoothed his hands over his black tunic. “Let’s hope you two make better soldiers than I do a doorkeeper.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Stopping on the street in front of his two-story home, Gabriel sent Leonidas on to their mother and father’s house to collect a change of clothes. His brother trotted down the road, waving to the neighbors. The goldsmith stared unseeingly from his perch outside his front door, his wife fretting over him. The poor, addled man who would probably never recover from the severe beating inflicted by the bloodthirsty Parthian soldiers who had stormed into Jerusalem.

  A Jewish army now occupied the city. The Parthians had moved on to fight other battles, but the wreckage they left behind would never be forgotten.

  The goldsmith’s youngest daughter emerged from the grand home cradling a bastard child fathered by the raping, pillaging cretins. She pulled a scarlet-lined hood over her head and hurried off in the direction of the lower market, a long scarlet belt fluttering against the folds of her brown tunic.

  Gabriel examined his smooth, perfect hands. Scholar’s hands, his mother boasted proudly. For the thousandth time he vividly recalled his fingers tying a length of red cloth to the round iron knocker affixed to his front door the day of the invasion. The bright slip of fabric was supposed to protect his family against the marauding army, only the red banner had mysteriously disappeared, and four Parthian soldiers stormed into Gabriel’s home.

  A donkey cart rattled by, shaking Gabriel from his reverie. He wiped the cold sweat from the nape of his neck and walked to the center of the wide, stone-paved street. He knelt and traced his fingers over the dirt packing the crevices between the stones. Dirt stained with his wife’s blood. His beautiful Talitha, trampled to death by Parthian horsemen galloping hell-bent down the road as she raced for help.

  Familiar pain gouged at wounds that refused to heal. “I couldn’t remain silent anymore, Talitha. I know I promised you I wouldn’t choose sides in this war, but I can’t smile and bow and grit my teeth and pretend any longer. I can’t stand idly by while the men responsible for your death gloat from their sullied thrones and practice wickedness after wickedness.”

  Heartsick and shaken to the core after Talitha’s death, Gabriel had taken refuge in his grief. But Simeon Onias’s heavy-handed pushing and prodding to get Gabriel to accept the prestigious office of Director of the Weekly Courses had shaken him awake. He’d tried to ignore the evil, but today’s mockery of the Lord’s holy ordinances was too much.

  His breath moved like gravel through his lungs. “Forgive me, my gentle wife, for what I must do. I won’t stop until I crush and destroy those who took you from me, robbing our sweet Helen of a loving mother. I won’t stop until my father and Simeon Onias pay for what they did.”

  Now all he had to do was find a way to break the news to his mother, sister, and daughter.

  CHAPTER 3

  A cold heaviness hung over the walled courtyard in the wake of Gabriel’s announcement. His mother and sister sat in stunned silence. He caught a whiff of roasted meat mixed with cinnamon and balsam from the Morning Sacrifice, a potent reminder that the sacred services were continuing without him.

  Deserting the Temple in dramatic fashion upended a lifetime’s worth of obedience and respect. He’d always done what was expected, strove to set a good example for his brothers, never gave his parents reason to worry or be ashamed.

  Curly-headed Helen, his beautiful three-year-old daughter, handed him a miniature plate. “Eat, eat,” she said, her brown eyes the bright, innocent image of her mother’s.

  His thumb brushed over the trail of lily of the valley trimming the dainty plate. Talitha had been delighted and touched when the plates arrived from Rome shortly after Helen’s birth. His first gift to his precious daughter. Those happy, contented days seemed like a fading dream. He swallowed against the sharp ache. “How very kind of you, my darling. Your aunt looks as though she’d like some of your cheese and turnip bread.”

  Helen squealed her delight and turned back to the play set of plates sitting on her child-size table. Chubby fingers plucked up a piece of imaginary bread, balancing the plate carefully, Helen tiptoed to Elizabeth’s yellow-cushioned chair. “Taste, Aunt Libi,” she said, dancing in place.

  Elizabeth sat up straighter. Her smile was strained. “My favorite. Thank you, pretty angel.”

  Helen clapped and skipped across the brilliant blue and gold tile-mosaic pulsing at the heart of the ornamental garden. Helen toddled to a stop and tugged on her grandmother’s brown tunic. “Do you want a piece of bread, Mamme?”

  Skin papery thin and hair gone pure white, his mother stared off into the distance, a shadow of the woman she’d been since learning of her husband’s long-term affair with a woman from Samaria. His mother and father continued to live as husband and wife, but a terrible pall had fallen over the once happy home.

  Helen picked up her grandmother’s wrinkled hand and cradled it between her small perfect hands. “Do you need a nap, Mamme?”

  If circumstances weren’t so dire, Gabriel might have laughed. His mother blinked and gazed at her granddaughter as if she’d never seen her before.

  “Don’t pester Mamme,” he gently scolded.

  Helen’s lower lip quivered. ”Mamme liked my soup yesterday. Didn’t you, Mamme?”

  His mother pulled her hand free. “Go sit with your father.”

  Helen burst into tears and ran to Gabriel. He caught her up in his arms, and she buried her small face in his chest, sobbing. Patting Helen’s tiny back, he looked to his sister for assistance.

  Childless and unmarried, Elizabeth had stepped in after Talitha’s death, mothering and caring for Helen. He’d be lost and overwhelmed without his sister’s help.

  Elizabeth returned the miniature plate to the marble table and sat down on the couch beside him. She patted Helen’s back. “Don’t cry, my beautiful angel.”

  Helen’s wailing slowed.

  Elizabeth clasped Helen’s hand, brought it to her mouth, and blew through her lips against Helen’s fingers.

  Helen giggled and snuggled against him.

  Cherishing the warmth, Gabriel nudged Elizabeth’s elbow. “I’ll rest easier knowing she’ll be well loved and cared for.”

  His sister cast him a pleading look. “She needs you. Please reconsider this rash plan of yours. You could be killed or maimed.”

  He doubted Elizabeth would be any happier if she knew he had been considering the possibility of joining Herod’s army for months. “Would you have me bend my knee to that glory-seeking snake?”

  “There must be another way. You are much admired and have many friends. Ask other influential men to join with you. Convince the Sanhedrin to dispose of Hasmond and Simeon.”

  He shook his head. “The Hasmonean family has too many supporters.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “Priests don’t go to war. You are used to a life of study and prayer.”

  Gabriel winced and fingered the cuff of his purple robe. His family had grown rich supplying oil for the Temple. Most priests didn’t live the life of luxury he did. They supported themselves and their families with the sweat of their brows. Joining the army was the last
thing anyone would expect him to do. But it wasn’t without precedent. “Moses led the people to war. And Jehoiada the priest armed Levites with shields and swords to guard King Joash. And High Priest Hasmond’s ancestors took up arms to free the land from foreign rulers.”

  Elizabeth jabbed him lightly with her elbow. “I still don’t like it.”

  “Respect your brother’s decision,” his mother said.

  Gabriel and Elizabeth shared a surprised look at hearing their mother join the conversation.

  The frail woman straightened. “You have my blessing, Son. May the Lord go with you and send his holy angels to watch over you.”

  Gabriel’s chest tightened. “Thank you, Mother. I feared my leaving would cause you further distress or worry.”

  His mother’s lips quivered on the point of a smile. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t worry. That’s my motherly duty.” Her eyes clouded. “Promise me you’ll watch over your brother.”

  Relieved at this bit of conversation and sign of life after months of oblivious stares and mumbled communication, Gabriel passed Helen to his sister, went to his mother, knelt beside her, and took hold of her bony hands. “I will do everything in my power to keep Leonidas safe and whole.”

  “I know you will. You’ve always been good to your brothers.”

  Though not one for open displays of affection, his mother’s love for her children had always shone bright. He hadn’t realized how much her warm smiles and soft words of encouragement added to his day-to-day life until he felt their absence. “I worry Helen might forget me if I’m gone for too long. Will you talk to her about me? Tell stories about my and Andrew and Leonidas’s misadventures.”

  His mother squeezed his hand. “I’ll have plenty of stories to choose from.”

  He smiled.

  “Am I the only sensible person here?” Elizabeth asked irritably.

  “I think you are the soul of sensibility,” an amused voice answered, and James came strolling across the courtyard. Still dressed in his priestly garments, with the working end of a long, silver sword propped on his shoulder, he made an odd sight. James was accompanied by Leonidas, who wore a red robe and a mile-wide smile on account of the ornate dagger clutched in his hand.

  Eying the deadly, gorgeous sword and handsome dagger with appreciation, Gabriel joined them.

  James wagged his brows. ”My father ordered me to dispose of my weapons. Ever the obedient son, I’m finally getting around to doing his bidding.”

  “James,” Elizabeth gasped. “Don’t tell me you plan to leave Jerusalem with my brothers.”

  James’s face turned red. “No...never. I vowed to protect you from my father’s hatefulness, and I will.”

  Elizabeth, who didn’t fluster easily, blushed. “I didn’t mean to insult you, especially after what you’ve sacrificed for my sake.”

  Gabriel’s hands balled even as his heart ached for Elizabeth. She shouldn’t have to rely on James Onias for protection. “Cousin James won’t allow Simeon to trouble you,” Gabriel said. “Isn’t that right?”

  James shuffled in place. “You have nothing to fear.” The elegant blade slipped off his shoulder and thumped against the ground.

  Leonidas jumped sideways. “Careful there, gladiator.”

  Gabriel stifled a groan.

  Elizabeth bit her lip, as though trying to hide a smile, or maybe a grimace.

  Helen wriggled off Elizabeth’s lap, and scampered over to James. “Do you want some cheese and turnip bread?”

  James blinked repeatedly. “I can’t stay. Um...I...I should return to the Temple.”

  Gabriel scooped Helen up, lest she get too close to the sharp-edged sword. “Your father and the Temple officers will be furious over your absence. Why didn’t you send a slave to deliver the weapons?”

  James dragged the sword closer to his body and leaned on the decorative hilt. “I possess vital information I need you to pass on to Herod.”

  “A message?” Gabriel repeated, leery.

  “I work for Herod.”

  “You’re a spy?” Gabriel couldn’t be more astonished if James said he was Moses risen from the dead.

  Leonidas whistled. “You could knock me over with a feather, Cousin.”

  “How deceitful of you,” Elizabeth said with a wide grin, joining the circle.

  James straightened. “I thought you’d be disgusted.”

  Elizabeth reached out and touched the hilt of the sword. “I think it’s brave.”

  “You do?” James said, voice pitching higher.

  Gabriel patted Helen’s small back. “It’s reckless. That’s what it is. Your spying puts the rest of the family in danger.”

  Elizabeth hugged her arms. “Hear what James has to say before you decide.”

  Developing a pounding headache, Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Elizabeth, please take mother and Helen into the house.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I want to stay.”

  “Growing up with a houseful of brothers has made you too spirited,” Gabriel grumbled. Putting aside a fight he would lose, he carried Helen back to the circle of chairs. “Could you take Helen to your bedchamber for a short while?”

  His mother crooked her finger, beckoning him closer. He knelt and his mother patted his cheek. “Don’t put too much trust in James Onias. His hate for his father burns too hot. His judgment is clouded.”

  The same accusation could be aimed at Gabriel. “Thank you for supporting my decision, Mother. Promise me you will take care of yourself and get strong. Elizabeth and Helen need you.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  He kissed his mother’s cheek, then Helen’s. “I will pray for you every day. Promise me you will do the same.” Old and young face identically solemn, they nodded. A heaviness filled his chest. How many days and months would pass before he saw them again?

  “Go see what your cousin has to say,” his mother encouraged.

  Gabriel stalked back to James, Leonidas, and Elizabeth. “Tell me what was important enough to make you leave your post at the Temple.”

  “What’s the message?” Leonidas asked, eyes flashing with excitement. “What do you want us to tell Herod?”

  James made a face. “I wouldn’t go rushing into Herod’s camp if I were you.”

  Gabriel ran his fingers through his hair. If the strain was bad now, he didn’t want to imagine how he’d feel walking into Herod’s camp. “Why? What’s the danger?”

  “You’re mistaken if you think Herod will give you a warm welcome,” James said.

  Elizabeth frowned. “I’d think Herod would be glad for any fighters he could get.”

  James leaned more heavily on his sword. “Normally, maybe. But Gabriel and Leonidas aren’t just anybody. They are prominent members of the Onias family. The cousins and sons of his mortal enemies.”

  Leonidas’s eager smile vanished. “Herod wouldn’t kill us, would he?”

  James shrugged. “Herod is a dangerous man when unprovoked. Now he would frighten the Angel of Death.”

  “Mother of misery,” Gabriel said, glancing about uneasily. “I don’t want to get killed before I start.”

  “James could write a letter on your behalf,” Elizabeth said.

  James waved the suggestion away. “I’d just as soon keep my head on my shoulders. No letters. But I think Herod will keep you around once he hears my message.”

  An appalled look crossed Leonidas’s face. “You think!”

  Elizabeth pointed a finger at James. “I will never forgive you if Herod harms my brothers.”

  James sobered. ”Herod is being double-crossed.”

  Gabriel glanced over his shoulder. He’d probably be doing a lot of that in the coming hours and days. Then he focused on James. “Tell me what to say.”

  “Warn Herod one of his spies is working for High Priest Hasmond. I don’t know who it is. But I heard my father and Hasmond crowing over the matter. Said the man approached them. They complained about the number of
coins it would cost them. That’s all I heard before the other Temple officers approached the door to the Royal Stoa.”

  Gabriel didn’t want anything to do with spies and secret messages, but didn’t have much choice. “That’s it? I’d feel safer if we had a bit more to offer.”

  James lifted the sword and held it out on the palms of his hands. “Herod will recognize the sword. He used to chaff me about it. Called it a rich man’s toy. The sword will tell Herod you and I are united.”

  Gabriel wrapped his hand around the etched, silver-plated hilt. The elegant sword weighed twice what he expected. He stepped back and slashed the air. The terrible strength of the deadly blade reverberated up his arm. His heart beat faster. He smiled and sliced the sword downward.

  James shook his head. “Your grip is wrong.”

  “Be careful,” Elizabeth said.

  “Did you ever use it in a fight?” Leonidas asked his voice full of awe.

  James handed Gabriel a pristine leather scabbard. “No. I went on a few late night missions with my barbarian brother-in-law, but we never had a run-in with Hasmond’s soldiers.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Truly?”

  Leonidas clapped James on the back. “Holy heavens, Cousin. You are full of surprises.”

  Gabriel slid the gleaming blade into the scabbard. If James of all people could learn to handle a sword, so could he.

  He glanced toward the western hills, sheltering a vast army, ready to wreak havoc. He wanted to take part in blotting out the evil from the city he loved. He wanted to right the wrongs of the past year and a half. He wanted to participate in Simeon Onias’s demise. “Blessing on you, Cousin, for risking your father’s wrath to ensure our safety.”

  “Don’t thank me too soon,” James said. “I’ll take you to a new tunnel under the south wall. I recommend you circle to the north and approach Herod’s camp in the guise of travelers.”

  Gabriel exhaled a steadying breath. “With your message and sword in hand, we will hope to find Herod in a welcoming mood.”

  CHAPTER 4