The Guardian's Promise. Christina RichЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Chapter Two

      The soldier yanked on Mira’s arm, pulling her from behind Ari’s back. Ari bit down on the inside of his cheek. He would not allow this man to harm her. However, if he fought the men with the training he’d received among the temple guards, they’d know he was not who he seemed to be. They’d wonder why a warrior priest pretended to be a servant among a simple farmer and his family and Athaliah’s entire army would descend upon this tiny village with destruction. His years of servitude would be for naught if the rightful king of Judah met his death because Ari could not maintain control.

      When the guard grabbed a handful of Mira’s hair and buried his nose in the locks, every muscle in Ari’s body vibrated with the need to kill him. He palmed the lava stone and shifted forward ready to die protecting his mistress as she had done for him when she’d fought off a pack of dogs ready to devour his battered body. That night, long ago, burned in his memory. The way she had fended off the dogs with no more than a firebrand. He had been beaten by men such as these, left barely alive only to be ravaged by wild animals. If it had not been for her and her courage, he would have died at the jaws of the hungry beasts. He would not allow her to be treated harshly by these men.

      Lord, I need Your help.

      The wail of a ram’s horn echoed across the rocky desert. A call Ari loved from his days as temple guard. The use of the shofar by the queen’s soldiers was one of many abominations marring Judah. It often brought great sorrow to his heart. However, he could not be more thankful for the answer to his hasty prayer.

      “I promise to return,” the Queen’s guard said as he released Mira before he and his companion mounted their horses and cantered away. Praise God the patrol obeyed the command, leaving Mira unharmed.

      She touched his arm, rocking him on his feet. Without thinking, he traced his finger along her brow and the curve of her ear, tucking her hair behind her back until his hand rested on her shoulders. “Are you well?”

      “I am. Thank you.”

      Her graciousness proved she’d had a fright. He’d been scared, too.

      How close she had come to being used. Her chances for a good marriage near lost. He dropped his gaze to the finger imprints on her wrist and shoved his hand through his hair. Stepping away from her sweet innocence, he expelled the breath caught in his lungs. His pulse kicked.

      He glanced toward where the soldiers had ridden. He refused to allow his pulse to settle until the dust cloud disappeared into the horizon.

      “You should not leave the walls alone.” He faced her, arms crossed.

      She swallowed. A wounded look fluttered through her eyes as she knotted her hands into her tunic. “I have chores to attend.”

      Reaching out, he took her fingers in his. The tips warm in his palm. “Even so...”

      Mira pulled away from him and released a shuddering breath. All civility between them gone. “Even so I will not live no better than a slave in my father’s house, being told when and where I can go.” She stalked away.

      Her words cut, but he knew she said them out of fear. Fear of what those men could have done to her. What they might do if they returned as promised.

      Guilt stabbed him at the thought of the queen’s cruel minions destroying the innocence of his master’s daughter. The soldiers preyed on the weak, the helpless.

      How was he going to keep her safe from another incident if she insisted on being stubborn? For he had no doubt the guards would return.

      His first priority was to protect the child king. Just as it had been since he’d followed Tama and the child to this small village that awful night. They’d left Jerusalem because of the danger, and now it seemed to have followed them here.

      He scrubbed his palm over his face. Tama, the boy’s nurse, would no doubt miss her cousin, and Mira her, but perhaps it was time to take the child and leave. But to leave his master’s family, defenseless? Leave Mira to the mercy of the soldiers? There had to be a way to protect them all.

      He returned to his work, his mind heavy. Why had the soldiers even come? And why now, after almost seven years of absence? He jabbed the lava stone into the basin and scooped out the last bit of mud. He smoothed the clay texture over the stones, filling the gaps in the rock wall.

      “Shalom.”

      Ari spun on his heel, the tool cutting into his palm. His eyes focused on the hunched, graying man before him. Ari bowed low before his master, whom he wanted to please. “Shalom, adon.”

      His master gripped Ari’s shoulder. The warmth of the aged hand reminded him of the man’s waning strength.

      “Come now, my son. There is no need to be startled. It is I, Caleb, your friend. Rise.”

      Ari scraped the lava rock clean before balancing it on the edge of the earthen bowl. He dipped his hands into a small basin of water, scrubbed away the clinging plaster and dried them on a cloth.

      Straightening to his full height, he scanned the area for a sign of the queen’s soldiers. “My forgiveness, Master Caleb. I had just seen the queen’s soldiers.”

      “No forgiveness needed, Ariel. I saw them ride away in haste and wondered at their presence. Perhaps they are keeping peace.”

      Peace, when they inflicted so much violence? Ari shifted his gaze beyond the rugged hills toward Jerusalem. When would Jehoiada, the high priest, send for them? Perhaps he should risk sending a message to the high priest about the increased patrols in the area? It was time to take the boy and leave. “Is that all, Master Caleb?”

      “You have done a fine job, Ariel. It is nearly finished, yes?” Caleb ran his fingers over the contours of the piled stones.

      “Another layer of plaster and it will be complete.” He had labored beneath the hot sun for months over what would be Mira’s portion of Caleb’s home once she married. He had prayed for her happiness and asked the Lord to bestow upon her great blessings as he had set the stones. It was the closest he would ever come to ministering to God’s people since he couldn’t perform the temple duties. Not that he bemoaned his fate. Keeping the young king safe was an honor.

      Sorrow filled Caleb’s eyes. “These walls should have been built by Mira’s bridegroom.”

      A protective instinct gripped Ari. He’d seen the way the men of the village steered clear of his master’s daughter. Even the promise of great wealth had not swayed many to seek out her hand and Esha, the one that did, was no more than a drunkard with idle hands refusing to help harvest the crops.

      If Ari weren’t bound by vows already made before he had come to this village, he would offer his troth to her if only to save her from a cruel marriage to a sluggard. It was the least he owed her and Caleb for saving his life.

      Caleb dropped his hands to his sides and sighed. “Alas, I fear she will never marry. I know I should force the issue. It is well past time for her to do so, and my health is waning.” He eyed Ari. “But who is worthy of her?”

      The urge to respond expanded Ari’s chest. From all he’d seen, no man was worthy of Mira, even when she was contentious, a tendency that only seemed to occur with him, but it was not his place to say.

      Caleb cocked his head to the side. “Forgive the ramblings of an old man?”

      “There is naught to forgive, adon.”

      “Come. Let us sit in the shade.” Caleb waved his hand toward the terebinth tree.

      Taking his master’s arm, Ari helped him walk the short distance to the cut bench beneath the large tree where the thick leaves would shield them from the hot sun. Ari sat beside his master. Looking across the pale rocky desert, he waited for Caleb to speak, wondering if he should tell his master about the guards accosting his daughter.

      “The Year of Jubilee