Page 73 of The Guardian's Promise

“I saw him drag her through the eastern gate. I could not go after them.” He crossed his arms, his face solemn. “We were fighting those who surrounded Athaliah.”

A heavy hand dropped to his shoulder. Ari turned, prepared to fight. “Brother, it is I, Jesse.”

“I see it is you,” Ari growled.

“Whatever is the matter?”

“Elam has taken his woman from the city.” Ianatos rolled his shoulders.

Jesse scrutinized the man. “Then we shall go get her.”

Ari began walking toward his home. “You should stay until after Jubilee. It is enough that I ignore tradition.”

“I do not celebrate your Hebrew ways,” Ianatos grumbled.

“Bah! Tradition will always be here. I will go.” Jesse blocked Ari’s path, halting his steps.

He assessed Ianatos. “You should stay. Guard our king. We would be remiss in thinking my uncle is the only one who wishes the boy dead. There may be uprisings among Athaliah’s faithful.”

“Of course.” Ianatos nodded and then walked past them.

“Ianatos.” Ari waited for him to turn around. “Thank you, may God bless you greatly.”

“My thanks.” He pushed through the crowded streets toward the temple.

Jesse clapped his arm around Ari’s shoulder as they neared their home, both were soaked from the rain, their feet caked with mud. “With the queen dead, there should be no problems.”

Ari glanced at his brother. “She’s dead?”

Jesse smiled. “Saw to it myself, just as Jehoiada asked. When do we leave?”

“As soon as I gather supplies, and dry clothing for Mira.”

“I have horses. It shouldn’t take us long to find her.”

Perhaps his brother did not notice the rain. “Any tracks would have been washed away. Besides, do those horses not belong to the temple?”

Jesse chuckled as they entered into their home. Ari began gathering weapons. He had not meant to joke, he meant all seriousness. The horses did not belong to them and they should not take them from the city.

“You think little of me.”

Ari stopped shoving necessities into the leather bags. “I did not mean offense, Jesse—”

“Of course not,” Jesse said. The hurt in his tone wounded Ari. “They were given to the priests of Manna.”

“I seek forgiveness.”

“It is given.” His brother smiled, but Ari knew he had hurt his brother deeper than he showed. “Come, we must make haste if we are to rescue your bride.”

“What have you done to the floors?” their grandmother asked.

Ari and Jesse looked to their feet even as their faces turned red with their grandmother’s chastisement. “We are sorry, Savta,” Jesse offered.

“P’sh,” she breathed waving them off.

“Grandmother, Elam has taken Mira from the city,” Jesse sought to explain.

Her dark compassionate eyes lifted to Ari’s. “What are you doing here, boy? Make haste, find your bride!”

* * *

She fell into another puddle of water. Wet strands of her hair clung to her face making it impossible for her to watch her footing. It was the third time she’d fallen since they’d left the city, and her tunic began to shred from the abuse. Her knees and the palms of her hands bled from their scrapes, tiny pebbles of sand bored into her wounds.

Fear should have consumed her. However, anger took precedence. If Elam had not bound her hands with twine and jerked on the lead as if she were a willful donkey, she would have been able to maintain her footing without issue.

“What a crippled beggar you are,” Elam said, looking down upon her.

With all her strength she jerked her wrists, pulling the twine from Elam’s hands. She rose to her feet, bare and bloodied, since Elam had disposed of her sandals shortly after they departed Jerusalem. She cursed herself a fool for leaving Ari’s side, for what reason she could not even remember. If she had stayed... “I have never been a beggar, Elam.”

He sneered and reached for the rope, but she pulled away. “Do you think to run from me? In your condition? I think not, scourge of Ari.”

She spat.

He slapped her. “You heathen.”

Raw emotion bubbled in her throat. “You should look at your reflection in the spring, Elam.”

“You speak of what you do not know.” He snarled, his eyes bulging.

“I know I have not betrayed my family, my people and my God.”

“Be quiet!” He grabbed the braided rope dangling from her wrists and tied it to his waist.

“What are your intentions, Elam? Your queen is dead. Her gods destroyed. You have no one to sacrifice me to.”

The rope jerked between them as he climbed onto another rocky path. “Come, the eve grows dark. I care naught for your comforts, I however do not wish to remain in the open lest my nephew comes after you.”

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