The Guardian's Promise. Christina Rich
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Название: The Guardian's Promise
Автор: Christina Rich
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Исторические любовные романы
isbn: 9781472072917
isbn:
“Abba.” Mira pushed aside the covering and entered. Her presence a double-edged sword. “Food is ready.”
If he were free, he would not hesitate to sign the contracts if she were agreeable. The truth, however, was more like iron shackles than being a bond servant to Caleb had ever been. He wasn’t free. Wasn’t free to leave. He wasn’t free to stay if he chose. He was not free to marry the woman standing before him. He was bound to a child for the good of Judah, bound to God’s will.
* * *
His gaze pressed against her, palpable, boring right through to the center of her being. She did not even have to look. He’d been watching her from the moment he’d left her father’s chamber. This time it gave her pause. Had she juices from the roasted meat dripping down her chin?
She swiped at her mouth with the back of her good hand and then as covertly as possible looked for the telltale signs of grease.
The courtyard filled heavily with the scent of roasted meat. The fire snapped and crackled as Rubiel turned the hunk of lamb over the fire. Why did he stare so broodingly?
“You have decided not to go, Abba?” Joash asked from his seat next to Ari.
The juice Mira poured into her father’s goblet overflowed onto the table.
“Mira, pay attention, child,” her mother said, tossing her a drying cloth.
“Forgive me, Ima.” The deep red liquid seeped through the linen, spreading in all directions. Images of bloodied bandages as she’d fought to keep Ari alive sprouted into her mind. She’d fancied herself in love with him then, before he woke and declared her maimed. Before he had treated her as if she could not spread grain onto the fields, tend the sheep or pick the harvest. Of course, he had been plagued with madness induced from the pain of his wounds and the herbs she and her mother had treated him with. He had spoken of many things that did not make sense as he tried to push himself up from the mat. The only word she truly understood was maimed.
Her anger at his brash observation had led to resentment, but today something had changed. Today, she had needed his help, whether she liked it or not. Today, her heart filled with gratitude at his presence.
All day she had fretted over his departure. Feared he’d leave her to fend off the queen’s men when they returned. Had he convinced her father to cancel his plans? Had he told him about the incident? Is that why Ari continued to watch her?
She peeked at him through the drape of her hair in hopes he would not catch her. However, his black eyes caught hers. Startled at the knots forming in her stomach, she gathered up the soiled linen and rose.
“My thanks, Mira.” Father lifted his cup to his lips and sipped before answering. “I have decided to stay. Your mother made me realize I did not need to go after all.” His gaze slid toward Ari. “It is my hope that my business is complete.”
“What business, Father?” She’d bit her tongue too late. The words were out. Ari’s eyes grew wide, his skin paled. After his time with her family he should be used to her inability to control the wayward organ. Her question was not cause for the panic creased on Ari’s brow. Unless of course the business had something to do with her. Perhaps the earlier incident. She ground her teeth together. Her father needed no other burdens upon his shoulders.
As if reading her mind, Ari shook his head. A silent message loud and clear. He had not betrayed her wishes. Then why would her father’s business, which obviously had something to do with her, unnerve Ari?
Chapter Six
“I speak of your marriage.”
Mira’s bottom jaw dropped. She snapped it closed and then opened it again. A firestorm swirled in her amber liquid eyes. This brash young woman struggled to form words. A first. It did not take long for her to find the iron in her spine.
Like a child, she crossed her arms and stomped her dainty sandaled foot. “I mean no disrespect, Abba. I beg of you, do not make me marry Esha.”
Caleb gaped at his daughter as if she’d grown a serpent’s head. “This is a family matter, Mira. We will discuss it later.”
She scanned the courtyard. Servants, slaves and family members stared at her. Her shoulders hunched. She swiped her hand over her cheeks, first one, then the other. It was strange how her defeated tears were somehow tied to his emotions.
“Please, Abba!”
Caleb shook his head a moment before she ran from the courtyard. The muscles in Ari’s legs urged him to run after her, if only to explain the situation. However, the knot in his belly told him she would not think him much of an improvement over the drunkard.
Dark, foreboding clouds should have cut a path over the table. It would have suited his mood. Thoughts crashed around in his head. Something else altogether squeezed tight in his chest at Mira’s distress. He’d made a vow to protect Joash, keep him safe until the appointed time when he would claim the throne of Judah. He’d also made a vow to serve Caleb, a vow from which he was now released, with the hope on Caleb’s part, that he’d marry his daughter. A marriage that could never occur.
Ari scrubbed his palm over his jaw. The entire situation reeked of fermentation. It left a bitter taste on his tongue and a bag of shekels in his belly. If he were another man...if it were another time...he would honor Caleb’s request.
“If it pleases you, adon, I would seek the Lord.”
The corners of Caleb’s mouth lifted. “Of course, Ariel.”
He left the courtyard and entered his shared quarters. Four stone walls. Lonely and cold, even in the heat, without all the servants’ mats cluttering the floor. Isolation closed in until he could no longer breathe.
A roar thundered in his ears. His heart beat out a tattoo, a tattoo that threatened to increase until he’d collapse from the erratic rhythm. He did not want to be consumed by the loneliness, eaten by the icy hardness forming in his chest. The only way to counter the coldness was to enter into the presence of God. However, the reality piercing his chest told him God may have forgotten him.
He grabbed a rolled mat and climbed the stairs to the flat portion of the roof. He peered across the horizon as the sun began to disappear, leaving indescribable hues stretching from north to south. Here the roaring in his head lessened, here he could almost breathe.
Until the hour reminded him, with a desperate longing, of all the rituals he had performed at the temple. In this place, there was no lighting of ceremonial lamps, no song echoing off the temple walls, no offerings to the Lord, no training his men in the courtyard, only the words of the prophets stamped in his mind, words he often shared after the evening meal.
He raked his fingers through his hair. There would be no words this evening. Not from him.
Releasing the cord from around his bedding, he flung it out before him. The soft fleece called to his knees as he prepared for his prayers. A flicker of light caught his attention. The distant glow faded and breathed to life in rapid succession before slowing and repeating.
He moved closer to the edge of the roof and scanned the horizon for another signal. A small, faint glow, СКАЧАТЬ