Atretes’ cry broke her tranquility. She looked up at him, standing above her, his face contorted with grief and rage. She had never seen such a look. He was breathing heavily, as though he had run miles, and his eyes blazed.
“I’ll kill the man who did this. I swear before God almighty, I’ll find him and do to him as he’s done!”
“No, Atretes,” Rizpah said, seeing Theophilus knew better than she. “Theophilus told you to feed the sheep. The sheep are your people. Theophilus told me there were two who came to his grubenhaus by night to hear the Word. There may be others hungry for the Lord. We must feed them with the Word.”
“Maybe it was one of them who did this to him!”
“No, it wasn’t,” she said, glancing toward the forest where Rolf had disappeared. Blinking back tears, she laid her hand tenderly against Theophilus’ serene face.
“What do you mean?” Atretes said quietly, his eyes narrowing.
“Look at him, Atretes. He’s at peace. He’s with Jesus.” She stroked his cheek, realizing how much she had loved him, how much she would miss him.
“Answer me!”
She looked up and saw the stillness in him, the cold suspicion—clear warning of the violent storm to come. Her heart trembled.
“You saw who did it, didn’t you?”
“Theophilus said he didn’t want you to seek revenge.”
“You think I can let this go?”
“Feed the sheep, Atretes. That’s what Theophilus told you to do. Feed the sheep. Don’t let yourself think of anything else but that.”
“Tell me who did it!”
“Love, God says. Love your enemies.”
He swore at her, the look in his eyes no less obscene than what she had seen in Anomia’s face the day before. He was lusting for blood.
Anomia, came a dark whisper in her mind. Tell him Anomia is behind Theophilus’ murder. Tell him it was her. He’ll take her life and rid the Chatti of her influence. He’ll never look upon her with desire again. Tell him it was—
She closed off the thoughts abruptly, shuddering that she had even allowed them entrance at all. O God, help me.
She had to protect Rolf, just as she had protected Helda. She had to strive to make every thought obedient to the love of Christ whatever violent feelings churned within her. She had to take her every thought captive to the obedience of Christ and leave no room for anger and jealousy and thoughts of revenge. If she didn’t, what would become of her husband?
She knew.
Lord, help me. Help me.
“Be still and know,” Theophilus had said so often. “God is with you.”
“Beloved, what does the Lord your God require of you?” she said softly, eyes filling with tears as she remembered and repeated another Scripture. “Fear the Lord your God, walk in all his ways and love him, serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and keep—”
“He was murdered!”
“As was our Lord. Jesus forgave,” she said, desperate to call him back to himself. “Theophilus forgave. You must—”
“No. Justice will be done,” he said, a muscle moving in his cheek.
“Justice, Atretes? Your mouth is watering for revenge.”
“Better the cur die by my hands than be put in the bog!” When she still said nothing, his temper burst the reins he had tried to put on it. “Tell me who it was!” he said, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her head back.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, she looked up at him. She was afraid, not for herself, but for him. When his hand tightened, she gasped in pain and closed her eyes.
Seeing her face drain of color, Atretes released her abruptly and stepped away, swearing vilely. He gave a shout of frustrated fury. He wanted to kill whoever had murdered Theophilus. He wanted to hunt the man down and tear him apart with his own bare hands. He wanted the satisfaction of hearing him beg for mercy. He wanted to plunge a dagger into him over and over again as the killer had done to his friend!
Rizpah wept as she saw the struggle going on within him. He was turning away from God right before her eyes, and she was powerless to stop it. She ached with grief, praying incoherently for God’s help.
Atretes turned on her, his face contorted with grief and wrath. “Curse you for protecting a murderer!”
She saw the same pride and wrath she had seen in Anomia’s eyes blazing in Atretes. It shook her. “No, I’m not,” she said, weeping harder. “I’m protecting you.”
He strode away, leaving her in the glen alone, Theophilus’ body cradled in her arms. She held her friend closer, rocking him in anguish.
48
Rizpah prepared Theophilus’ body for burial, but Atretes returned and informed her he was going to cremate him according to Chatti custom. He spent the rest of the day building a funeral house. Freyja came with food and wine, but Rizpah had no appetite, and Atretes wouldn’t stop to eat.