An Echo in the Darkness(71)

“Marcus . . .”

The soft whisper of his name had filled her mind and heart. Was it only because she held a newborn child in her arms and knew she might have borne one with him? Tears had welled in her eyes, and she handed the child back to his mother. “He is very beautiful.”

Oh, Marcus, I still love you. I still love you so much.

Marcus . . . Marcus . . .

Father, it wasn’t your will that I fall in love with a man who rejects you, was it? Help me to forget him. How can I serve you wholeheartedly when I long for him? You know the deepest desires of my heart. O please, Lord, remove this burden from me. . . .

But now, as she put away the healing drugs and herbs in the new quarters, the soft whisper came again, insistent, not to be set aside.

Marcus . . . Marcus . . . Marcus . . .

She felt the call and pressed her fist against her heart.

O Lord, be with him. Watch over him and protect him. Put angels around him. O Father, let him know your mercy. . . .

Alexander carried the small writing table up the steps. He bumped the edge of it into the doorway, banging his fingers. He muttered a curse under his breath and carried his clumsy burden into the room and set it down with a thump.

Hadassah was on her knees, her head bowed, her hands pressed against her heart.

Rashid entered behind him with a painted screen. He saw her, too, and looked at Alexander in question. Alexander shrugged. They quietly went about the work of putting things in their proper places.

Suddenly Rashid nudged Alexander, a look of fear in his dark eyes. Alexander turned his head and felt a prickling sensation down his spine.

Still kneeling in the same position, Hadassah was bathed in a stream of sunlight.





14

“Taphatha, we must hurry or we won’t make Jericho before dark!” Ezra Barjachin called back over his shoulder to his daughter. He switched his donkey’s side. Following on a smaller donkey, Taphatha obeyed his command but tapped the beast’s haunches so lightly it continued its leisurely pace. “Beat that lazy beast with your stick, Daughter! Don’t pet him with it.”

Biting her lip, Taphatha applied a heavier hand, and the animal quickened its pace.

Ezra shook his head and turned around again, gazing nervously at the road ahead. He should not have bought the donkey. It was small and far too tame, but he had thought it perfect for his grandson, Shimei. Now, however, the animal’s placid nature was jeopardizing their safety. They would have moved faster with him leading this animal while Taphatha rode.

He looked up the road ahead. Robbers hid in these hills, awaiting hapless travelers. Ezra swatted the donkey’s side again, and the animal broke into a trot up the incline. He would feel safer once they reached the rise of hills and could see down the descending slopes to Jericho. Here the road was desolate, the sun hot, the risk of attack hovering over him like the carrion birds he saw up ahead.

He glanced back at Taphatha, hoping she hadn’t seen the birds. She tapped the gentle beast again. In another moment, he knew she would pity the donkey and lead rather than ride him. “We must hurry, Daughter.” He should never have listened to his brother Amni and brought her on this trip. As the eldest and most successful of the family, Amni had always intimidated him.

Now Taphatha was back on this lawless road with him, and the journey was a pointless disaster. Not only had no marriage agreement been reached, but familial ties had been severed. It was unlikely Amni would ever forgive him or Taphatha for the debacle that had occurred.

What could he have done differently? Had he ignored Amni and left Taphatha at home, would everything have come out as he had hoped? What if she had married Adonijah? Would disaster have come from such a union  ?

He conceded that without Taphatha there, the matter of her marriage would have been settled easily—had Amni been reasonable and Adonijah less insistent on his way.

Ezra looked around again. He had worries enough trying to arrange a secure future for Taphatha. Now he had the added burden of worry about robbers accosting her and stripping her of her virtue.

Adonijah had never been his first choice of a husband for Taphatha. His first choice had been Joseph. The son of a potter, of the tribe of Benjamin, Joseph had been wholeheartedly devoted to God. But Joseph was gone. Roman soldiers had arrested him a year ago and taken him outside the city walls and crucified him.

Taphatha was fifteen now, a full year older than her sister had been when she married. God had already blessed his daughter Basemath with a son and daughter. Surely God would bless Taphatha even more, for she was devoted to the Lord.

He must find a good husband for her and assure her future happiness, as well as the continuation of his own bloodline and heritage. So many had died in Jerusalem. So many others had ended up in Roman arenas. A precious few had been sold as slaves to Roman masters and were now scattered over the conquered territories.