My Enemy, My Love (Truly Yours Digital Editions) Page 13

  Damon rose to his own feet, and without saying anything, he crossed to the speaker’s side. The speaker stood with head bowed low until Damon wrapped burly arms around him, hugging him fiercely. “I, too, ask forgiveness. I have held a grudge this long while against Jezer. I ask his forgiveness, also. I wish no restitution. It was my cart that hit his lamb.”

  Under the law, Jezer was in the wrong. Barak marveled that Damon would accept no recompense. The two men sat down together, good will restored.

  “Are there others?” Naboth inquired.

  The people in the room looked about them, but no one else had anything to say.

  “Good. Then let us give appreciation to our Lord for the sacrifice He made.”

  Barak wrinkled his nose in distaste, fairly certain that the stories of cannibalism he had heard were about to be revealed as truth. His look once again fastened on Anna, willing her not to be a part of this. She turned on him a look of innocence and hope.

  “On the night the Lord was betrayed, He was partaking of the Passover supper with His disciples. He instituted a ceremony that we have come to recognize as a means of keeping His memory alive, just as He intended.” Naboth took a loaf of bread and held it up for all to see. “Do this in my memory, He told His disciples, and giving thanks to God He handed it to all. Let us do the same.”

  He lifted his eyes upward. “Father, thank you for this symbol of Your Son’s body that was broken on the cross for our sins. Forgive us for making Him die.”

  He then took a piece of the bread and handed it to the man on his left. As the bread was passed around, each person took a piece, passing it on to the next.

  When the bread reached Barak, he almost threw it into Anna’s waiting hands. He rubbed his hands against his tunic as though to remove all traces of the offending symbol.

  Anna took her piece, and together with everyone in the room, placed it in her mouth. They bowed their heads in reverence, and all was silent in the room.

  Moments later, Naboth lifted the cup sitting in front of him. He held it high as he continued his prayer.

  “Father, we thank You for this symbol that represents the blood of our Savior, Jesus Christ. Help us to never forget all that He did for us, and help us to take this symbol into the future for our children, and our children’s children.”

  He handed the cup to the man beside him and sat down. This quiet ceremony was not as Barak had expected.

  Once again, when the cup reached him, Barak quickly handed it to Anna. He watched her drink from the cup and hand it back to Naboth. Diffidently, not knowing what she would find, Anna’s eyes met his.

  She could see the confusion mirrored on Barak’s face. Although he wasn’t accepting, neither was he rejecting. He was clearly puzzled.

  The rest of the meal continued without any more prayers or rites, but periodically someone would begin a hymn and others would take up the chorus. This was a time of happy fellowship, and Anna thrilled to be a part of it.

  Naboth leaned across her and spoke to Barak. “Anna has told me that you are from Jotapata.”

  Barak nodded.

  Undaunted by such a lack of response, Naboth continued. “We are thankful for your recovery. Anna asked us to pray for you. Praise God, our prayers were answered.”

  Color flooded Anna’s cheeks, and she refused to meet Barak’s look.

  Barak motioned to the room. “A large gathering. Are there many of you in Samaria?”

  Naboth followed his look, nodding. “Yes, many. The apostle Philip came to our country to tell us of God’s love.” His gaze went to Anna and softened. “I’m sure you know of Anna’s aunt as well. She spoke to the Messiah.” He nodded across the room. “As did Jezer and Damon.”

  Barak slanted Naboth a dubious look. “The Messiah?”

  “He has come, Barak,” the older man told him with conviction. “There are so many Scriptures that foretold of His coming, and they have all been fulfilled.”

  “All of them?”

  Naboth observed his skeptical antagonist for a moment. He noticed Anna watching the young man with eyes speaking plainly of her love. He felt his own heart drop. Although Anna had said that Barak would not claim her, Naboth had his doubts. The yearning in the young Jew’s eyes was obvious to anyone who cared to see, and Naboth certainly did. For some time now, he had considered speaking to Tirinus about having Anna as his wife. He had held back only because of his age.

  Barak recognized a rival for Anna’s affections, but he could do nothing about it. Soon, he would be gone and Anna would be just a memory. At least that’s what he told himself. Better that she share her life with such a man as this one who shared her faith.

  When Anna leaned toward him, her dark hair fell over his forearm, sliding silkily against his skin. The smell of the lotus blossom perfume she wore swirled around him until he began to feel lightheaded.

  “Naboth has studied the Scriptures thoroughly. He has also searched far and wide, questioning people about the man named Jesus.” She smiled at Naboth. “It didn’t take him long to conclude that Jesus was the Christ, the Anointed One.”

  Barak grew angry at the looks the two exchanged. They excluded him in a way that left him in no doubt that he was an outsider. Well, so be it. Let them have each other and their pagan religion.

  Anna touched his hand, and suddenly all thoughts skittered around in his head into more confusion than he had felt before. Behind those incredible eyes, there was such a strong belief in what she was saying. He was almost swayed. Almost.

  “I would be glad to teach you,” Naboth offered.

  Naboth read Barak’s look correctly. There was nothing the young Jew would wish to learn from a rival.

  Anna glanced from one to the other hopefully, but Barak rose to his feet. “If you will excuse me, I need to get some rest.”

  Anna and Naboth watched him stride from the room, his very body oozing disapproval. Anna sighed and Naboth turned back to her.

  “Don’t be so downhearted, little flower. He will come around.”

  Surprised, Anna stared at him in puzzlement. “How can you say that?”

  Naboth’s eyes studied the empty portal that Barak had disappeared through. “That was me several years ago. He will not stop until he ascertains the truth, one way or the other.”

  “But what if he decides that the Way is a lie?”

  Naboth grinned at her. “How can he? You can’t deny the truth.”

  “Others have,” she disagreed, her eyes fixed firmly on the doorway.

  “Trust in God, Anna. He has a purpose for Barak, or why would He bring the two of you together?”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am. You’ll see.” He rose to his feet. “Brethren, let us before we depart say the prayer our Lord taught us through his apostle Philip.”

  When he had everyone’s attention, he began. “Our Father in Heaven, hallowed be your name. . .”

  As Anna followed along, she added fervently to the petition.

  “Your will be done.” Please, Lord, let it be Your will that Barak accept Your truth.

  “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” Even, Amman, Lord? All right, I will try.

  “Lead us not into temptation.” I am weak, Lord, where Barak is concerned. Help me fight my weakness.

  “Deliver us from the evil one.” Yes, Lord. Especially, Amman.

  As the others rose to leave, Anna said her good-byes and accepted their thanks for opening her house to them. Her heart was strangely heavy as she watched them leave.

  Eleven

  Anna watched from the balcony window as Adonijah handed Barak a small package. They exchanged words and then Barak moved from her sight as he reentered the villa.

  Turning away from the window, she moved across her room and sat on her bed, her mind in confusion. Barak was leaving today. She had known the time would come, but she had hoped and prayed that she would have more time to reach him with the truth.

  She prayed
Naboth was correct in assuming that Barak would eventually find the Way, but her faith right now concerning Barak was rather weak. He had the stubbornness of a donkey, and for some reason she doubted even the Lord could reach him.

  Feeling guilty for such thoughts, Anna fell to her knees to ask forgiveness. She had to let go of these powerful feelings she had for Barak. Satan was using them to make her faith as gossamer as the web of the spider on the garden wall.

  A firm knock on her door had her heart jumping into her throat.

  “Come,” she called, rising to her feet.

  Emnon opened the door, moving aside so that Barak could enter. He started to follow the Jew inside, but Anna forestalled him.

  “Wait outside, Emnon.”

  The Philistine did so, but left the door partially opened. Barak stood just inside the entry, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. His dark eyes swept over Anna briefly before capturing her gaze with his own.

  “It is time for me to leave. Adonijah brought money to recompense your father for the care he has given me, but no amount of money can compensate you for the time you took to wait on me.” He came closer. “I can never. . .”

  “Don’t say anymore,” she begged softly. “It was my pleasure to do so.”

  The silence between them lengthened. Finally, Barak came to her, taking her face between his palms. He studied her features as though to impress them on his memory for all time.

  Lowering his lips to hers, he kissed her gently, a kiss of good-bye. Only when he heard the catch in her throat did he wrap her tightly in his arms, his kiss deepening until Anna thought he would never let her go. She prayed that he wouldn’t.

  Keeping her enclosed within his arms, he pulled his lips from hers and buried his face in her neck. “Oh, Anna.”

  There was such torment in his voice. Quick tears sprung to Anna’s eyes. She had to let him go.

  She pulled from his arms, rubbing at the tears that ran down her cheeks. Turning her back on him, she told him quietly, “Go with God.”

  “May the Lord keep watch between you and me when we are away from each other.”

  The words of Moses hung in the air between them until she heard the door close softly behind him. She heard his retreating footsteps and with a small cry flew to the balcony.

  Adonijah helped Barak into the cart. Although much of his strength had returned, he still had a long way to go before he would be healed completely.

  The oxen snorted as Adonijah lifted the reins. Two men waited nearby on horseback and fell in behind the cart as it started forward.

  Barak lifted his eyes and encountered Anna standing on her balcony, tears flowing unchecked across her face. His heart constricted within him. He wanted to go back, to take her in his arms and promise her his love for a lifetime, but he knew that could never be. She was a pagan. He owed his allegiance to Jehovah.

  Adonijah turned and followed the direction of Barak’s look. His lips set into a tight line, but he refrained from comment. Barak was a man full grown. He didn’t need any advice from Adonijah. Still, he couldn’t help asking, “You love the girl?”

  Barak turned his gaze back to the road before them, a twitch working in his jaws.

  “Be still, Adonijah.”

  Sighing, Adonijah did as he was told. It was going to be a long, silent trip to Jotapata.

  ❧

  Barak strode into the synagogue on Sabbath and dropped to a seat beside Adonijah. He curled his arms around his upraised legs, placing his chin on his knees.

  Adonijah studied his friend, noting the tired lines around his eyes. Barak rose before sunrise and worked in the fields long after sunset. He had no idea what his friend did in the fields when darkness came, and he wasn’t about to ask. Barak would confide in him when, and if, he was ready.

  The priest opened the Torah and looked for a Scripture to read. His eyes caught Barak’s and he smiled. “Would you like to read for us today, Barak Benephraim?”

  Barak swallowed hard. He had prayed for such an opportunity, but now he was reluctant. Chin setting with determination, he rose and moved to the priest’s side.

  “Where would you like to read?”

  Barak glanced at the priest and then took the scroll and began to unroll it. As he unrolled one side, the priest rolled the other until they reached the section in Isaiah that Barak was looking for. Voice steady, he read the same Scripture that Abner had read several weeks ago at Anna’s.

  The priest turned to him in surprise. Adonijah watched him with a knowing look. Others in the room began to murmur until the priest raised his hand for silence.

  “The Scripture speaks of salvation for the Gentiles, does it not?” Barak demanded.

  Clearing his throat, the priest told him, “It is as you say. Even now, many have turned to the Jewish faith.”

  The room grew loud as others joined in the discussion. Unsatisfied with his answer, Barak took his seat beside Adonijah. A frown drew down his dark brows as he listened to the others argue amongst themselves over what the Scripture entailed. Barak had not meant those who were proselytized. Is that what the Scripture truly meant?

  Adonijah’s eyebrows disappeared among the hair curling over his forehead. “What did you hope to accomplish?”

  Ignoring him, Barak rose to his feet. There was a fever raging inside him that refused to be restrained. “I would like to study the Scriptures concerning the Messiah.”

  The room grew silent. One man frowned heavily at Barak. “Then join us tonight when we will do so. We have asked you in the past, but you have always been too busy. Now, it is time to harvest the grain, and you suddenly wish to study the Scriptures?”

  Barak felt the hot color flood his face. What they said was true. Why now, of all times, did he feel compelled to seek news of the Messiah? In his heart, he knew. Anna had shaken his faith and he needed to find the truth.

  When he left the synagogue, Barak was in no better frame of mind than when he had first arrived. He moved aside as two women passed him, their arms laden with baskets.

  Adonijah’s look followed the two women. “Taking food to old Beker.”

  His thoughts elsewhere, Barak turned back to his friend. “What?”

  Adonijah nodded to the two women making their way up the hill. “Sarah and Milcah. They are taking food to old Beker.”

  There was something in the way Adonijah said it that brought Barak to an abrupt halt. His look followed the two women as they disappeared out of sight over the hill.

  “That’s right. Beker is a Christian.”

  Adonijah shrugged. “The elders think he has lost his mind or else they would have surely stoned him to death. That’s why they have no objection to Sarah and Milcah tending to him.”

  Although Beker had been banished to a cave on the outskirts of the village, his daughters made sure that he lacked for nothing. They were devoted girls and couldn’t be faulted for their loyalty, though they were often ridiculed by the other village women.

  Without looking at Barak, Adonijah told him, “No one has more knowledge of the Scriptures than Beker. Not even the priests.”

  Barak stared up the hill. “You may be right,” he told Adonijah absently. He turned to face his friend, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

  “You seem to know an awful lot about old Beker.”

  Adonijah fixed his friend with a direct look. “Talk to him, Barak. Talk to him.”

  A message flashed from Adonijah’s eyes, and Barak frowned, not certain that he knew what the younger man was trying to say.

  “I will,” Barak told him decisively.

  ❧

  Several days later, Barak found Beker sitting outside of his cave watching those who traveled the roads nearby. His ragged clothes hung on his lanky frame, his white beard shaggy and unclipped.

  “I’ve been expecting you, young Barak.”

  Stopping in front of him, Barak lifted a brow in inquiry.

  “Adonijah said you would come.”

  Surp
rised, Barak slowly eased himself to the rocky ground. “You speak with Adonijah?”

  The old man’s lips tipped up slightly in a mysterious grin. He cocked his head sideways as he studied Barak.

  “What is it you wish to know?”

  Flustered, Barak tried to regain his thoughts after having them scattered by Beker’s announcement. What was Adonijah doing coming to Beker? He would ask him later, but for now, he had other things on his mind.

  “I understand that you know most of the Scriptures concerning the Messiah.”

  The weathered old face creased into a smile. “I know all of the Scriptures concerning the Messiah,” he corrected.

  Barak’s narrowed gaze settled on the old man, but he realized that Beker was not boasting. He looked away.

  “I wish to know about this man named Jesus.”

  A soft light entered the old man’s eyes and his face seemed to glow. “Then we must start at the beginning.”

  Barak frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “You will,” Beker told him softly, and then reiterated. “You will.”

  ❧

  The sun had reached its zenith, and still Barak lingered, talking and arguing with old Beker. The old man had begun with a Scripture Barak had learned from his youth: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel.”

  Barak understood that this meant the Messiah would be born of woman. But then, everyone knew that. All children were born of women. But Beker explained how this proved that the Messiah would be human. Barak agreed, but then this Jesus claimed to be the Son of God.

  “All nations will be blessed through him.”

  That was already becoming clear to him. He hadn’t realized just how many Scriptures there were that spoke of salvation to the Gentiles.

  “He will reign on David’s throne.”

  There was no longer any throne of David. There were no longer even twelve tribes of Israel. Beker explained how this foretold of the Messiah being of the house of David and that he would “uphold it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever.”