Page 64 of The Guardian's Promise

Ari laughed. A tear slid down Ari’s cheek. “I am going to miss you.”

He rose from his knees and hugged Joash to him before leading the boy into the alcove.

“It is time to kneel and give thanks to the Lord.”

They bowed their heads in silence. The last he had been here and had given thanks, the words had been meaningless. Words repeated from memory.

Now he spoke from his heart with sincere gratitude for all God had blessed him with over the past seven years. Broken was not a word he would use for what he felt, but aware. Aware that God had cared enough to show him His ways even through difficult times. Loved him enough to prove Himself to a mere man who had been lost in the dictates of the law. The difference was not just in his clean-shaven face instead of the Levitical beard, but his heart had changed, too.

“Lord, my God, creator of all the Earth. I stand before You in awe of Your Almighty greatness. May Thy hand continue to touch Thy servant, that I may walk in all Thy ways. Abba God,” he prayed, wrapping his arm around Joash. “Anoint this child with Your wisdom. May he rule in obedience to You. May he rule with Your grace and authority. Amen.”

“Amen,” Joash repeated. “May I remove the cloth, Ariel?”

“Soon, Joash. Soon.” He rose, drawing Joash along beside him. “Let us greet Jehoiada.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Mira walked beside Ishiah with her arm wrapped around his. “How much farther?” she asked, the bright spots in her vision had lessened. And although she could now see the shadowy figure of Ishiah beside her, it remained difficult to see.

“Not far. I see the sentry at the gates. Here,” he said, handing her his cane. “Use this. Pull your tunic over your head, and above all take courage.”

She thought to ask why she needed to cover her eyes, but his last words gripped her. She had not felt courage since she’d left home.

“Hail! What is your business?”

Ishiah drew her close wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “My daughter, she is ill. We seek a physician and to bring sacrifice.”

“Your name?”

“Ishiah of Ziph.” Ishiah grumbled the words.

Mira was not surprised he did not speak the truth. The truth would bring danger to them.

“Ishiah and daughter,” the sentry said. “Move along.”

A loud snap, as if a branch had broken from its mooring, caused her to jump.

“It is only the latch releasing from the gates,” Ishiah whispered.

The groan of heavy wood skittered along her nerves. Ishiah drew her forward, the tension in his arm relaxed beneath her fingers. His calm pats did not give her assurance all was well.

Once they were through the gate, the atmosphere changed. Her spirit shirked within her, cringing from the discordant noises. Cymbals and horns, boisterous revelry. With her eyes veiled, and only her heart to guide her, she could see no reason why Ari wished to call this offensive place home.

The stench of unwashed people left her nauseated as their bodies pressed against her. Afraid to be lost among the crowd of revelers she gripped tighter to Ishiah. Lewd comments were tossed in the air. Her arms were pinched. She cried out as her tunic was pulled back and her veil ripped from her head. One man even stopped them, offering to purchase her from Ishiah for a piece of silver. She wanted to weep, for this was could not be the Jerusalem she’d heard of. It could not be God’s holy city.

Ishiah patted her arm, offering her encouragement. “We are almost home,” he whispered. “But I do not think it best to enter through the front.”

It did not matter which direction they entered as long as she was free from the eyes she sensed leering at her back.

She cried out as another person yanked on her hair, causing her to trip on the cobblestones beneath her feet. She released Ishiah’s arm and fell to her hands and knees. “Ishiah!” She froze, unable to move due to the pressing bodies closing in on her.

Her fingers were smashed beneath someone’s foot, and then she felt an arm around her waist lifting her to her feet. The man squeezed the air from her as she tried to break free. “You’ve caused my master a bit of trouble, Sh’mira, daughter of Caleb.”

Mira stilled at the low voice rumbling near her ear. What master did he speak of, and who besides Ishiah knew her? She tried to look at her captor and catch a glimpse of his features through her dimmed eyesight but he jerked her close against his chest. Fear gripped her, and without thinking of what she would do once she was free, she jammed her elbow into the man’s midsection. He dropped her to her feet, and another hand, this time a familiar one, grasped her and ran with sure footedness.

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