Harvest of Rubies (47 page)

Sarah tried to stifle a snort, but was not successful. Darius dug his elbow into her side and decided to redirect the conversation. “Explain the tattoo.”

“Ah, that. Believe me, my lord, I had no idea what the content of that vile message was or I would never have placed my brother’s scalp at the disposal of such roguery. Here is what happened. A man contacted me and offered a great deal of
money for my brothers and me to carry that dagger and a couple of missives into Susa.”

“What man?” Now they were getting somewhere, Darius thought.

“There’s the rub, my lord. He met me at night, wearing a hooded cloak. I hardly saw his face. His only introduction was a bag of gold. He sounded like an aristocrat. But I never found out his name.”

“Where was this?”

“In Babylon. But the man was not Babylonian, I could tell from his accent. He paid extra because he wanted to tattoo his letter on the messenger’s scalp. He said it was the only way he could be certain that it would not be discovered by royal spies.”

“But for my wife’s sharp eyes he might have proven right. How came he to tattoo your head without you ever knowing what the message said?” he asked Niq.

Niq shrugged. “They kept me hidden in a room for a month. Except for the man who shaved and tattooed me, I saw no one, not even my brothers. My room had no window, so I couldn’t send or receive any secret messages. I had no idea what they had written on my head. I was locked in until my hair was well grown out and covered the message beneath. When I find the rascal who marred me with dishonor I’ll squelch him.”

“Was he the same man who spoke to Nasir, do you think?”

Niq shook his head. “No. There was no lordly way about him. He was a simple servant, judging by his manner. His master must’ve held him in deep confidence, though, if he entrusted him with such a job.”

Darius chewed on his lower lip. The origin of the plot was proving a dead end if the brothers were to be believed. Although he had foiled the plan by virtue of discovering it, it
was essential that he find the traitor, for no doubt whoever was bent on assassinating Artaxerxes, would try again. “To whom were you supposed to deliver the dagger and the missives in Susa?”

“I have no name,” Nasir said.

“Of course not.”

“But I have a place and time of meeting.”

Darius smiled slowly.

Rahab paid it when at the age of fifteen she was sold into prostitution by the one man she loved and trusted—her father. With her keen mind and careful planning she turned heartache into success, achieving independence while still young. And she vowed never again to trust a man. Any man.

God had other plans.

The walls of Jericho are only the beginning. The real battle for Rahab will be one of the heart.

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