wouldn’t be able to keep Judah, his beloved country, safe.
Jesse shifted his gaze toward her. “Suph left many villages in desolation. He burned their crops, slaughtered their animals.” He paused, uncomfortable with his next words. He closed his eyes, recalling with clarity the devastation and the weeping mothers. “He cut down their children in the name of your mother, looking for a single child, your nephew, King Joash.”
“This cannot be true. My mother—”
“Ordered the atrocities.” He tore his gaze from hers. The horror etched on her face left him feeling like the worst kind of evil. Perhaps he shouldn’t have told her, but she’d asked for the truth, and that was one truth she needed to hear, even if it wasn’t the one she had meant.
“Ach, your mother was as cruel as any.” Dara hid her dislike behind a goblet.
“It is true,” Micah said. When Abigail glanced at him, he shuffled his feet. “I heard some of the soldiers speaking about it.”
Jesse found it odd that these people agreed with him. It was a mercy he was more than thankful for.
Abigail wrapped her arms around her waist and bent over. A soft keen echoed in the tent, intruding on the flickering firebrands. Piercing his heart. He wanted to reach out, take her in his arms and offer her comfort. However, it was not his place.
“If we are to sweep you away from the camp, child, we need to act now.”
Her rocking motion came to a sudden halt. She sat up straight as she swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “How is it even possible?”
The corners of Dara’s mouth slid upward. “You give the command. A little of this,” she held up a small earthen jar no bigger than the palm of her hand, “in their wine and the entire camp will sleep until midday.”
Abigail’s gaze settled on Jesse. “And what of him?”
Her question formed a knot in the pit of his stomach. Not that he thought she’d leave him behind. The care she and Dara had taken with his wounds told him they were both compassionate, even if he was their enemy. No, the fact that she thought things through, when he had a tendency to act first and think later, caused him a bit of shame.
“I’ve chamomile and my sons. They were not pleased to be forced from their home. They do not like Suph.”
Jesse did not like the way the tension left Abigail’s face, nor the way her eyes lightened at the mention of Dara’s sons. Had she affection for them? Not that it mattered. However, a part of him did envy whoever it was who caused such a reaction in her.
He glanced at the old woman and prayed her sons were able-bodied men and not frail. Given the size of their mother he doubted such mercy had found him. “You would be surprised what things a man can do when he has the will to live. I will have no more of your herbs, old woman.” He couldn’t risk having dulled senses.
Abigail considered him for a short time as she chewed on her bottom lip. Jesse smiled. The more time he spent in her presence the more beautiful she became. Not the magnificent beauty her mother had portrayed, but a beauty in her own right, with her high forehead and wide mouth. But what made her even more splendid was the gentleness of her soul. The pureness radiating from her.
Abigail glanced at Micah. The boy nodded and she seemed to sigh in relief. It was odd she took cues from the child. She looked back toward Jesse. “I do not trust you, Jesse. However, something tells me you will help me find the truth I seek.”
The truth of the one true God. He only hoped he could offer her counsel. He was not his brother Ari, a man well versed in God’s law. No, he was a warrior who spent much of his time praying, nothing more. She bowed her head. “It is obvious I am in danger if I stay here.”
“I can make you no promises, Abigail. I have vowed to protect Judah. At all costs. As long as you and your people do not stand in the way of that goal I will bring no harm upon your heads. However, one hint that you betray the greater good of Judah and King Joash, and I will have no constraint. In that your captain is correct.”
“You are loyal to your cause. I admire that strength. If only I knew what my cause was.” She tilted her chin. The glow from the firebrands illuminated the innocence in her eyes.
“I am loyal to the one true God, Abigail, and Judah belongs to Him. Not the false idols your mother worshipped. Not the one your people shame themselves before tonight.”
“Where would we go?”
Jesse twisted his lips. Where would they go? He couldn’t take her to Manna. He would not risk the people and their secrets there, not even to protect this woman, though she might be innocent of her mother’s crimes. He had no doubt Ari and Mira would welcome them, but he had no way of knowing if his brother and his love had returned safely to her father’s village, which left him only one choice.
“I will take you to Jerusalem to see Jehoiada, the high priest.”
Her lips parted as her eyes widened. She shook her head.
“Ach, our time is running short. What will it be, Abigail?”
“I do not know.”
“If you stay here, Suph will force a marriage upon you. He said as much. And if he succeeds in ousting King Joash he will raise himself up as King of Judah. You have seen his cruelty, Abigail. Are you willing to chance how he will treat you as his wife? How he will treat the people of Judah?”
The color in her cheeks drained, leaving her pale. She buried her face in her hands. She looked so small, no more than a child. The desire to protect her and those she cared for flowed in his blood. He glanced at Micah. The boy’s fierce protectiveness caused pride to swell in Jesse’s chest.
“What will it be, Abigail?”
Chapter Five
The turmoil of the past several days was enough to make her weep. How was she to decide which choice to make? One thing was for certain—Suph was a tormentor. One look at Jesse told her the truth of that. What kind of man tormented another man to near death, even if he was a prisoner?
And there was something about Jesse that urged her heart to trust him. What little she could see through his swollen lids beckoned her trust. Besides, if there was the slightest chance that this boy king was her nephew, she owed it to her brother to protect him, even if that meant coming face-to-face with the man responsible for murdering her family. She owed it to herself and to Judah to discover the truth.
She recalled little of her father other than his crazed rantings about a living God, a God her mother had called weak, else he would have rescued the royal family when Jehoiada had slaughtered them in their sleep. If what Jesse said was true and Joash was her brother’s son, why would her mother seek to kill him? Wouldn’t she want to embrace her only grandchild?
Ha, she had never embraced Abigail. She’d only loved Ahaziah. Her joy, and then he was murdered. Releasing the tension in her neck, Abigail exhaled. “I cannot leave Bilhah.”
“You trust the priestess?”
Abigail crossed her arms over her waist as she bit down on her lower lip and then nodded. “I trust her more than anyone.” She smiled at Micah. “Besides you, of course, my young friend.”
Micah bobbed his head. “I understand. She is your cousin.”
Jesse scrubbed his hand over his face and mumbled something unintelligible. “Your cousin? Another princess?”
“Yes. She was my father’s niece. My mother honored her by making her the priestess.”
He laughed, coughed and then moaned through battered lips. Her heart lurched at his discomfort. Pride kept her feet planted. Why would he laugh at such a thing?
“It is more likely she thought your cousin a threat and sought to remove her from the royal house by soiling her reputation.”
Heat