Faith of My Fathers (39 page)

Joshua waited, his breathing audible. He heard footsteps approaching and Asher’s voice. The door opened and Asher walked in, followed by a palace guard. Joshua swung the censer against the back of the guard’s head as hard as he could. The man staggered forward, then toppled to the floor, knocking over a wooden bench. Joshua leaped on top of him and pinned his arms behind his back.

“You could have killed him with that thing!” Asher cried.

“But I didn’t. Help me take his uniform off.”

The guard’s eyes rolled back in his head. He was groggy but still conscious enough to struggle. It took five of them to strip him and tie his hands and feet together. Joshua stuffed a wad of cloth in his mouth and tied a sash around his head to gag him. The look of fear in the young guard’s eyes speared his conscience, reminding him of the young guard he had killed. Then he remembered the look of fear he had seen on Dinah’s face.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply, then he clubbed him again with the censer. The guard lost consciousness. Asher and the other Levites gaped in horror.

“Don’t waste time,” Joshua said. “Warn all the others to get out of the country. Now!”

Asher didn’t move. “You’re going for Prince Amariah alone, aren’t you?”

“I have to.”

“Joshua, let it go. He’s not worth the risk.”

“How can we reestablish our nation in exile without an heir to the throne? God promised King David that his kingdom would endure forever. Amariah is part of our identity as a people.”

“And he’s also Manasseh’s brother. His rival. That’s the real reason you want him, isn’t it?”

White-hot anger raced through Joshua’s veins as Asher’s words struck their mark. He picked up the censer. “Get out! All of you— get out!”

When they were gone, Joshua dragged the soldier into the corner behind the door, concealing him from view beneath a table. Then he counted slowly to ten to clear his head, breathing deeply, ignoring the pain in his chest.

The leather uniform fit tightly across his chest and stank with the soldier’s sweat. Joshua’s hands shook, making it difficult to lace up the shin guards. There was a dark stain on the back of the leather headpiece where it was soaked with blood. Joshua pulled the visor as low over his eyes as he dared and strapped on the soldier’s sword.

He decided against taking the royal walkway to the palace, even though it was the shortest route. Instead, he fell in with the last of the stragglers from the sacrifice and took the main street south from the Temple. Once he noted that Captain Micaiah was on duty in the guardhouse outside the palace, he doubled back toward the side entrance that led to the barracks. It was the door he and Manasseh had used every day as they left the palace for their military training.

He knew his way around the palace—it had been his second home—and he was counting on the fact that if he walked purposefully, without hesitation, no one would question him. He looked straight ahead as he strode through the palace door. The guard standing watch didn’t stop him.

Inside, the palace swarmed with soldiers—dozens more than on any ordinary day. It made it that much easier for Joshua to blend in, but it would also make it much harder for him to escape again with Amariah. He pushed aside the fleeting thought that the presence of so many soldiers might mean that something was wrong.

Memories crowded around Joshua like ghosts as he walked through the familiar hallways. Memories of Abba. Of Manasseh. Memories from all of the years he had spent growing up in this palace, preparing to sit beside the king in the throne room one day, governing the nation. He shoved his distracting thoughts aside with the thought that Dinah and Hadad were waiting for him. Counting on him.

Amariah was Manasseh’s secretary of state now. Joshua chose the most direct route to Shebna’s old office, hoping that he would find the prince there. Instead, he found Amariah’s aide sitting in the outer chamber.

“Yes? May I help you?”

When the man looked up, Joshua almost lost his composure. He knew this man. He would hate to have to kill him.

“Prince Amariah sent for me.” He forced himself to stand erect with his shoulders squared, remembering that as a youth he had been self-conscious about his height and had always slouched.

“He’s in his chambers. I’ll take you—”

“Don’t trouble yourself. I know the way.” He hurried away before the aide could rise from his seat.

A warning tried to sound in Joshua’s brain when he saw the guards posted at either end of the hallway outside Amariah’s chambers. He recognized both of them. They had consistently beat him in training exercises at the guard tower. And they both wore swords, just like his. He felt like a deer walking straight into a trap, moving closer and closer toward the hunters encircling him. He straightened his shoulders and walked past the first one.

“Just a minute. Where are you going?” the soldier asked.

“I have orders to guard the prince.”

“That’s what the two of us are doing.”

Joshua knew that the longer he talked with them, the greater the risk that one of them would recognize him. “Captain Micaiah told me to go inside.” He opened the door to Amariah’s chambers and let himself in before they could argue further.

The prince sat slumped on his couch with his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands. He looked up when Joshua entered. “What is—?”

“Don’t make a sound or I’ll kill you!” The blade flashed as Joshua drew his sword. Amariah leaped to his feet.

“Where are your servants?” Joshua asked him.

“A-at the convocation. I’m alone.”

Joshua stepped closer and saw the prince swallow a lump of fear.

“Take a good look at me, Amariah.” He watched the prince study his face, then saw recognition dawn in his eyes.

“I don’t believe it!
Joshua!
” Amariah staggered backward and sank down on his couch again. “Where. . . ? H-how did you get in here?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving again. With you.”

“You’ll never make it out of here alive. Didn’t you see all the guards?”

“I saw them. Why so many?”

“Dinah tried to kill my brother last night.”

Joshua felt the floor rock beneath his feet. “
Dinah
did?”

“You don’t know, do you? Manasseh has kept her here as his concubine. He sacrificed their son to his pagan gods a month ago. Last night she stabbed him in revenge.”

Joshua needed to sit down, but he didn’t dare. The sword was growing heavy in his shaking hand. Dinah was Manasseh’s concubine? That meant Joshua had just sent Hadad to a certain death. There was no way that anyone could ever get Hadad or Dinah out alive. It was several moments before Joshua could speak.

“How badly did she hurt him?”

“Help came in time. He’s weak from losing so much blood, but the doctors think he’ll live.”

“That’s why you’re under guard, isn’t it?” Joshua asked. Amariah nodded. “O God of Abraham, help us.” Joshua ran his hand over his face. He would never get them all out of this mess. He would be lucky if he got himself out.

“What in heaven’s name are you doing here, Joshua?”

He sheathed his sword and sank into the nearest chair. “Last night we smuggled the ark of the covenant out of the country. This morning, all the priests and Levites are escaping with their families. We’re setting up a community in exile to preserve God’s Law and the sacrifices. I planned on abducting you when you came to the convocation this morning, but you never came.”

“I would have gone with you willingly, Joshua. I hate what Manasseh’s doing to this country. I don’t want any part of it, but he’s forcing me to work for him. He has people following me wherever I go, watching me. You never would have been able to get away with kidnapping me. And if you’re smart, you’ll walk out of here right now, while you still can.”

Joshua knew that Amariah was right. It would be impossible to steal him out from under so many guards. He rose to go. Amariah stood, as well. When he did, there was something in the prince’s stance and in the set of his broad shoulders that reminded Joshua of King Hezekiah. Amariah had grown several inches taller in the year since Joshua had seen him, and his newly grown beard was the same burnished bronze as his father’s had been. The sudden realization astonished him—Amariah was Hezekiah’s son. If Joshua left him behind, Manasseh would murder him as soon as his heir was born.

“I’m not leaving without Dinah. Or you,” Joshua said.

“You’re crazy,” Amariah whispered.

“If I am, it’s your brother’s fault. He drove me to this. Do you want to leave the country with me or not, Amariah?”

“Yes . . . but the guards . . . I told you they follow me everywhere.”

Joshua’s mind raced ahead as he began to see a possible way out of this. But it would be an enormous risk.

“Wait one hour,” he told the prince, “then come up to the Temple. Tell them you want to worship Asherah. Will they believe you?”

“I . . . I guess so . . .”

“Convince them. Put on a show. The woman you choose will really be working with me. Take her into one of the booths and wait. I’m going to create a distraction for the guards. When you hear a commotion, run! The girl knows her way around the back lanes of Jerusalem. Do whatever she tells you to do. She’ll smuggle you out of the country into Moab.”

“How will I recognize her?”

“She has a mole right here, under her left eye.”

Amariah moaned. “How do you know she can do this?”

“Because she smuggled me out of the city a year ago.” Joshua watched several emotions play across Amariah’s face as the prince considered the plan. At last a look of resolve settled over his features.

“All right,” he said quietly. “One hour.”

“If you have a weapon, bring it.”

Joshua hesitated, unsure if he should ask one last favor of Amariah. If either of them were caught later on, it would link them together in conspiracy. “Will you do one thing for me? Leave this in your room where Manasseh will find it.” He opened his silver pouch and took out a potsherd with his drawing of an ox.

“You really hate him, don’t you,” Amariah said.

Joshua shoved it into Amariah’s hand. “If you don’t want to leave it, you can crush it to dust. Now walk me to the door and let the guards see that I haven’t harmed you.”

“Joshua? I’ll see you again, won’t I . . . in Moab?”

“Of course.”

22

J
OSHUA KNEW THAT MIRIAM’S
house was somewhere in this northwestern section of the old city. Even though it had been dark the night Maki first led him here, he recognized the area of slums by its stench. He wandered, lost, through a jumble of houses that were clustered close together with no pattern of streets or lanes. He tried not to think about what he would do if she wasn’t there. She had to be there. Where else would she go?

He pounded on the wrong door three times before he finally found the right one, recognizing it by the cracked stone watering trough that served as a front doorstep.

The man who answered Joshua’s knock wore only a rumpled undertunic, stained with sweat. He had the stale smell and disheveled look of a lifelong drunkard. When he spoke, his words were slurred. “What do you want?”

“Is Miriam here?”

“Who wants to know?”

Joshua hesitated, then decided it was too dangerous to give his real name. “I’m . . . a friend.”

The man grinned. “I’ll wager you’re a very good friend—a handsome young buck like yourself.” Joshua resisted the urge to shove the man aside and force his way inside.

“Who’s at the door?” a woman’s voice called.

“Some young soldier looking for Miriam.”

“Tell him she doesn’t live here anymore. Send him on his way.”

“You heard the lady. Get lost.”

The man started to close the door but Joshua wedged himself inside the doorjamb. “Where is she?”

“Get out of our house before I bust your jaw!”

“You’re in no condition to fight me or anyone else. Answer my question before I lose my patience.” Joshua felt his anger billowing dangerously, and he struggled to stay calm. He knew what he was capable of doing if he lost his temper. He had no time for this. Too many lives were at stake.

A woman appeared in the shadows behind the man, and Joshua knew in an instant that she was Miriam’s mother. “Where’s your daughter?” he asked.

She folded her arms across her chest and stared back at him with a cool, hard gaze. “Who are you, soldier-boy?”

“Miriam worked for my family until a week ago. I’ve come to ask her to return.”

“Well, she has a new job now. Be on your way.”

“I’ll offer you double whatever she’s being paid.”

The man turned to grin at the woman drunkenly. “Sounds to me like she’s a lot more to him than a maidservant!”

Joshua grabbed the man by the front of his tunic and lifted him off the ground, swinging him sideways and smacking his head against the wooden door. Then he tossed him backward so that he tumbled to the floor inside the house.

“I don’t have time for this!” Joshua said through clenched teeth. “Where is she?”

The woman stepped back. “You’ll find her at the inn near the Dung Gate, across from the sheep market.” Joshua took off at a run.

The inn was a low-slung, ramshackle building, jammed with the shiftless sort of men who rarely did an honest day of labor. He wasn’t surprised that Miriam would choose to work in a place like this. She was her mother’s daughter.

He spotted her immediately, weaving between the tables with a serving tray. She stopped beside a table where four ruffians were seated and carefully placed the bowls and wine cups in front of them. The moment she finished, one of the men grabbed her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap.

“Take your filthy hands off of me,” she cried as she squirmed to break free. The man laughed. Joshua saw the hatred and humiliation written on Miriam’s face as she struggled to her feet, and he knew he had misjudged her. She hadn’t chosen to be here. It was his fault that she was.

“Miriam!” he called to her as he strode across the room. When she looked up and saw him she backed away, her cheeks bright with shame. “Miriam, I’m sorry that I sent you away like that. Please, I need your help.”