Page 71 of The Guardian's Promise

Ari bowed over the priest’s frail hand. “My thanks, Jehoiada.”

“Ishiah, if you will bless us by guarding Joash until all is settled?”

“I consider it an honor,” his father replied.

“Jesse, I send you with your brother.” Jehoiada handed his father and Jesse each a weapon. “See to it that Althaliah does not leave Jerusalem alive. It would not do for her to regain forces and return.”

Congregated together, they stood in their ranks and waited for orders. Jehoiada stood before them, between what should have been bronze pillars. He lifted a prayer of blessing over them. Collectively they banged the butts of their spears upon the ground and shouted, “Praise God!”

Jehoiada raised his hand for silence. “I have assembled you here for a greater purpose than any could ever imagine. On my command you are to kill all who would protect Athaliah. Kill her guards, and any who would follow her. The terror of Judah and her servants must perish. Demolish the Asherah poles she has erected in your city. Cleanse Jerusalem of her defilement. Do not allow anyone within the temple walls who is not one of us. Blood must not spill within the temple.”

Jehoiada waived his hand, a hundred Philistine mercenaries streamed into the courtyard, each carrying a giant spear. Ianatos stood at their head.

Between them, Joash strode, attired no longer as a shepherd boy, but as a king draped in purple and gold.

Jehoiada, motioned Joash forward. An attendant handed Jehoiada a gold crown and a vile of oil. “The Lord your God has preserved the line of David as He promised. He has set before us a child.” Jehoiada poured oil onto his fingertips and drew his fingers across Joash’s brow. “I present to you Joash son of Ahaziah.” The high priest sat the gold crown upon the boy’s head. “King of Judah.”

The curling sound of the shofar wound into the air, followed by one and then another, until every trumpeter blew his praise to the Lord God, Creator of the heavens and earth.

After a few moments of the shofars resonating into Jerusalem, Jehoiada raised his hand for silence.

“What is this!”

Ari turned toward the palace, as did everyone else. Athaliah stood on the steps of the palace, her face red with rage.

“Treason! Treason!” She rent the neckline of her garment. “Kill them,” she ordered the guards standing beside her.

Ari and the group of warriors he was with turned upon her and her guard. Her men fled back into the palace. Ari raced after them, cutting with his sword and jabbing with his spear those who fought for their queen. He pushed his way through the palace gate. His movements, that of a battle-honed warrior, were sure-footed, yet his mind focused on finding Mira. Desperation gnawed at him with each guard he dispatched, warring with the faith and trust he placed in the Lord.

It was like a double-edged sword twisting in his gut. The doubt that had crept in sliced deep, leaving a gaping wound in his heart. “Sh’mira!” He sidestepped a sword as it threatened to crash against his head. Ari swung the flat of his own blade against the knee of his opponent, sending him to the ground. “Sh’mira!”

Lord, guide my feet to her.

He turned a corner, his instincts prodding him to run. His feet flew over the flagstones of a long corridor. His gaze fell to a pair of women. One lay on the stones, another crouched over her. The muscles in his legs froze, refusing to move another step. Was he too late? If only he had not taken too much time in fighting his opponents. If only he had been quicker.

“My Lord,” he whispered, pleading with God. Sweat poured over his brow and into his eyes, causing them to sting, yet he could not take his eyes off the women out of fear they’d disappear.

If I have lost her... A knot curled in his belly at the anguish of losing her, leaving the taste of vinegar clinging to his lips. Ari sheathed his sword as his knees wavered in their strength. He shoved the flat end of the spear against the ground and leaned against it for support.

* * *

Just as they had entered the large bathing chamber, a shofar sounded. And then another sounded, and another until the palace walls vibrated with the intensity of the horns. Mira had feared the walls would tumble around them. The guards flanking her had tensed, their hands gripping their short swords. A thunderous shout arose from outside. “Praise God!”

Athaliah’s shrill screams echoed through the palace, and the warriors raced away, leaving Mira alone with the arrogant woman.

“Praise God!” Mira looked heavenward and placed her hand over the beating of her heart.

The woman who only moments before had ridiculed God, trembled in fear.

“Did I not tell you my God has not abandoned me. Nor has he abandoned Judah.”

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