Page 69 of The Guardian's Promise

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“This girl, this child, is the one who has thwarted my attempts at killing my grandson?”

“She is.”

“I would be careful not to be so smug, Elam,” Athaliah crooned. “She not only thwarted my soldiers but you, as well.”

The fullness of the woman’s hatred penetrated Mira’s thoughts. “What have you to say for yourself?” A rustling of silks, and the clicking, of what seemed to be a staff on the flagstones alerted Mira of the queen’s movements. The heavy scent of fermented wine invaded her senses. Athaliah stood directly in front of her. “Be careful with your answer lest you commit even more treason than you already have.”

“Punishment for treason is death by sword, your majesty.” Mira bowed, giving her the respect due her position even if it was not deserved, but she would not keep her tongue silent. She would even play on the queen’s superstitions and strike fear into her heart. “You already believe me guilty, so therefore I will speak the truth. It is not I who has thwarted your efforts, but the Almighty Jehovah, the God of Israel. For it is He who allowed the jar of oil to break, spilling over my feet. It is He who led me to the well to cleanse, and it is He who carried Joash to safety when you would have had him killed. It is the God of Abraham that warned of an ambush, leaving your men to perish. It is the God of Isaac Himself who came down and cloaked the rightful King of Judah and me in His glory, shielding us from your armed soldiers. It was the Lord God Almighty who sent men to fight your warriors, leaving them to their deaths outside Jerusalem’s gates.”

“The girl is mad, your majesty. All those events were by chance, not her God.”

“No matter your disbelief, Elam, it is Jehovah God who will crush your bronze and wooden idols beneath His fist. It is Jehovah who will hand all who’ve hardened their hearts to Him to your enemies. Even you, Queen Athaliah, demolisher of Judah.”

The heavily scented perfumes cloaking the queen shifted as she slapped Mira across the face. “You speak boldly for a blind sheep herder.”

“Prepare her,” Queen Athaliah commanded.

“What is it you would prepare for her?” For once Elam sounded wary, but Mira hadn’t a thought of pity for him given all the hurt he caused Ari.

“My bronze god will find her pleasing, do you not think, Elam?”

“You promised no harm would come to her.”

“Do not worry yourself, Elam.” Athaliah circled Mira. “You have done your job. Once I have the boy in my clutches, you will get your reward. Although, I’m sure Jehoiada will not be too happy.” She caressed her fingertips along the side of Mira’s stinging cheek.

Mira jerked.

“A feisty one. Too bad she’ll be consumed when we sacrifice her.” Athaliah pulled on Mira’s hair, wrapping it around her fist until her nose buried against Mira’s head. She sniffed. “My god will find her pleasing, indeed.”

A bubble of laughter rumbled within Mira’s chest. The hand gripping her hair trembled. The laughter spilled from Mira’s throat. Her stomached fluttered in joy, not fear of this pitiful queen.

Athaliah shook her hand from Mira’s hair as if she’d been burned. “She’s mad. Take her away!”

Elam tugged on her arm to take her from the queen’s court. Boldness filled her, strengthening her courage. Her tongue became thick, heavy. “Your greed has twisted your thoughts. It is not too late to seek forgiveness, for it will always be yours if you only call on the name of your Lord God.”

“You speak of what you do not know, Sh’mira.” He jerked her arm, causing her to stumble over her feet.

“You know God has no mercy for the faithless. Not even one who calls himself a priest.”

“Enough,” Elam spat.

“Remember this, Elam, you have denied God, He will deny you.”

She heard the opening of an iron gate and she was shoved forward. She fell to her hands and knees.

“You are naught but a crippled beggar. Who are you to tell me what God will do?”

She stood to her feet, and shoved her hair from her face, the strips of linen kept her from seeing his scorn. “God does not discriminate against afflictions such as mine, only against decaying hearts.”

The gate slammed shut, echoing against the inside of her cell. The key turned in the lock. “Where is God now, Sh’mira? Will He deliver you from the queen?” His voice quivered as a man facing a lion. “No. I think not. Soon my queen’s attendants will retrieve you. They’ll shave the shame from your head and paint your eyes with kohl right before they tie you to the altar and set it on fire,” he hissed. “Will God grant you mercy then?”

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