My Enemy, My Love (Truly Yours Digital Editions) Read online

  Surprised, Barak quickly got to his feet, shaking his head. “I did not suggest that I would take her. I thought perhaps Sentius.”

  The smile slid slowly from her face. “You would not take her?”

  Old feelings of hatred struggled with newer feelings of—what? What exactly was he feeling right now? The desire to protect the girl, the equally strong desire to leave her alone.

  “I have never set foot in Samaria, nor do I intend to.” If he offended her, so be it. He had done more for these infidels than he had originally planned.

  She turned away from him and moved to the archway leading into the villa, her shoulders slumped with despair. “Will you send Sentius to me?”

  Feeling as though he were lower than an Egyptian asp, Barak agreed. He was so preoccupied with his guilty thoughts, he failed to see the figure slip out the gate behind him.

  Five

  Barak stared somberly at the flickering flames of the fire. In Uncle Simon’s tent, Uncle Simon would be giving thanks for the evening meal. For the most part it would consist of unleavened bread and fresh fruit, no lamb having been left over from Passover night. Barak didn’t care much one way or another. His lack of hunger came from the tightness of his stomach as he thought about Sentius leading Anna to Sychar.

  Adonijah dropped down beside him, both men watching the small campfire, each busy with his own thoughts. A gentle breeze lifted the hair slightly from Barak’s forehead, where it lay curled against his dark skin. Finally, Adonijah turned to his friend.

  “Your uncle only wants to see you happy.”

  Barak snorted. It would seem his private life was not so private after all.

  “My uncle is only concerned with me having children so all that my father owned will pass down for generations to come.”

  Perplexed, Adonijah lifted one dark brow. “Is this not the desire of all men? You needn’t sound so unhappy about it. Perhaps you and Miriam will sire the future Messiah.”

  Barak picked up a stick and angrily snapped it in two. “Of course I want to have children, but there’s plenty of time.” He smiled without humor. “Remember Father Abraham.”

  Adonijah didn’t return his smile. “Remember Japhez.”

  Both men settled into a melancholy mood, reflecting on their friend who had been killed only the week before when a mill stone had fallen on him, crushing him to death.

  “Has your uncle told you that he has made marriage arrangements?” Adonijah asked.

  Barak shook his head. “No.” He glanced suspiciously at his friend. “Has he said any such thing to you?”

  “No. It was more a conversation I overheard between him and Ahaz. Nothing definite. Only I did hear them say something about where the two of you would live after you were married.”

  Shoving his forehead into the palm of his hands, Barak gritted his teeth. Adonijah studied his down-bent head.

  “Truly, Barak, I don’t see why you aren’t excited about having Miriam for a wife. I know you want to marry for love, but surely that will come in time. She’s a wonderful woman.”

  Barak turned his head slightly, lifting a dubious brow. It would seem that love made one blind. Still, he would not contradict his friend. It was obvious that Adonijah was besotted with Miriam, yet he was such an honorable man he would never do anything to jeopardize Barak’s future. What would it do to his friend if Barak did eventually marry the girl? He hated to think of causing Adonijah such grief, yet he was beginning to see no way out.

  “Perhaps,” he finally answered, sighing. “But for now, I think I will go and talk with Mother before she lies down for the night.” He got to his feet, patting Adonijah on the shoulder as he passed by. “Good night, my friend.”

  His mother was busy preparing her clothes for the night when Barak sought admittance to her tent. She smiled widely at her son.

  “Come in, Barak. Sit down. Tell me about your visit in the great city today.”

  Barak joined his mother on the cushions. He lay back and breathed out softly through his lips. It hadn’t occurred to him before just how tired he was.

  “There’s not much to tell. I just wandered around on my own for a while, and then I met some people and visited with them.”

  “Other Jews?”

  Not wishing to worry her with his afternoon’s escapades, he began to tell her instead about the little monkey at the market. She laughed lightly.

  “I can just see it, with its little turban.”

  “The turban’s owner was not so amused.”

  Tamar made a sound with her lips. “He obviously had no sense of humor.”

  When Barak spoke again, his mother was surprised at the turn of his thoughts. He lay back with closed eyes.

  “Mother, tell me about when you met Father. When you were first married.” He sat up, wrapping his arms around his knees. There was something so intense in his eyes that his mother searched his face with the probing eyes of a concerned parent.

  “What do you wish to know?”

  “Anything. Everything. Did you love each other from the moment you met?”

  Tamar laughed, shaking her head. “No, my son. I couldn’t stand the sight of him. And he thought me a naive child. I hated the way he talked to me as though I were nothing but an infant.”

  Barak was too surprised to speak. His parents had loved each other, of that he was sure. You could see it in their every look, feel the power of it whenever you came near. Others had often commented on it.

  “You didn’t marry for love?”

  Tamar’s eyes took on a faraway look. There was a small smile on her face as she remembered back to the first days of her courtship and marriage.

  “No. Our fathers arranged it. I cried and pleaded, but to no avail. They were adamant.”

  She looked at Barak. Such thoughts as love were unusual coming from a man. Marriage was a means to an end for most. She should have known it would be different with her son. He had the body of a warrior, but the heart of a poet. Much like King David.

  “I grew to love him. After we were married, I began to see the qualities I had missed before. My eyes were clouded by my anger and averseness to the marriage. It took time, but your father and I found that it was indeed Jehovah’s will.”

  Were these sudden questions of love brought on by Simon’s talk of marriage to Miriam? She scrutinized her son carefully, trying to read into his questions.

  “Miriam is a beautiful woman,” she told him guardedly.

  Barak sighed heavily. “Mother, I do not wish to marry Miriam.”

  “Not right now?”

  He shook his head. “Not ever. Let Uncle Simon arrange a marriage between Adonijah and Miriam. Adonijah would be thrilled, though truth to tell, I would wish differently for him.”

  Tamar was quiet for several moments. When she spoke again, there was regret in her voice. “Simon has already decided. He and Ahaz both. I don’t think there’s a way to dissuade them.”

  Barak unfolded his legs and climbed swiftly to his feet. He brushed a hand through his hair in vexation. “Can you do nothing to stop them?”

  Looking up at her son, Tamar wondered just what she could say. Placing a hand gently on Barak’s leg, she worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

  “Barak, I don’t know what to tell you. I had no idea that you felt so strongly about this.” She paused. “Is there another woman you would choose?”

  For a moment images of Anna’s serene face and glowing eyes filtered into his mind. The way her lips had parted slightly as she had studied him had set his heart to pounding. Such a provocative, yet innocent gesture. He shook his head to free it of such disturbing images.

  “No. There is no other, but that doesn’t mean that I should marry in haste.”

  “Barak, you are twenty-five years old. It is time you settled down and had a family.”

  “I have you,” he told her softly.

  Her mother’s heart thrilled at the sound of such love in his voice. How many men truly loved their mot
hers as much? How had she been so blessed? What could she say to such a statement?

  “I will talk with Simon,” she told him quietly.

  He nodded. There was really nothing more he could say.

  Adonijah’s voice reached them from outside the tent. “Barak. Someone is here to see you.”

  Tamar and Barak exchanged looks. “I will see who it is.” Thinking that it might very well be Miriam, or Ahaz on her behalf, Barak bent and kissed his mother on the forehead. “This might take a while. I will wish you good night now.”

  But it was not either of the two. When Barak opened the tent flap, he found Leah standing outside. Her face was extremely pale, her large, dark eyes filled with distress. She twisted the belt on her robe in agitation.

  “May I speak with you?”

  His eyes swept the area around, but there was no sign of Sentius. Something was seriously wrong. His eyes locked with Leah’s, and he could read the message there. For some reason, she wished him to remain silent.

  Uncle Simon came from his tent and joined the group. His heavy brows drew down into a scowl. “Who is this woman?”

  “A friend,” Barak told him, but would say no more. “You wished to speak with me?”

  The flickering light of the fire added planes and hollows to Leah’s cheeks, giving her an otherworld appearance. Barak heard Adonijah’s indrawn breath behind him. He didn’t miss the hesitation as Leah glanced quickly at the people around her.

  “May we speak in private?”

  Concern was beginning to tie his stomach into a knot. Regardless of what he disclaimed, he hadn’t been able to get Anna off of his mind all day.

  He lifted a torch from its holder and nodded. “Lead the way.”

  Barak could feel the eyes of the others on his back as Leah led him toward the thicket of olive trees beyond their camp. She didn’t stop even when they were clear of the sight of the others, but continued instead farther into the mammoth trees.

  Suddenly she stopped, and Barak could see a figure beyond her. Waiting. Lifting the torch to push back the darkness, his heart began to beat faster as he recognized the young woman.

  “Anna.” His look sought an explanation from Leah.

  “I would ask a favor of you. I know it is much to ask and you have no reason to grant it, but I am pleading with you to take Anna safely to Sychar.”

  Surprised, his look went from one to the other. Anna moved slowly toward them and in the light from the torch he could see traces of tears on her dusty cheeks.

  “Where is Sentius?”

  A soft sob escaped from the older woman and she began twisting her hands together.

  “They came to the house.” She stopped, unable to continue.

  Growing more anxious by the moment, Barak demanded impatiently, “Who came?” although he thought he already knew.

  “Kasim and the others,” Anna told him softly.

  Puzzled, Barak shrugged his shoulders, his hands spreading apart. “I don’t understand. What of Sentius?”

  Anna glanced once at Leah, her eyes dropping to the ground before rising to meet Barak’s.

  “Sentius had just come back from seeing Aunt Bithnia. He had a bag of gold in his hands, enough to see us safely on our journey. No more had he arrived than we heard the neighbor’s donkey sounding an alarm. When Sentius looked out the window, he could see several men moving around the house.”

  She stopped, swallowing hard.

  “And?”

  “Sentius shoved the money bag into Leah’s hands and told us to run out the back way.”

  She stopped again and Leah took up the story.

  “Micah was waiting at the back entrance. For a moment, I thought he would let us pass, but then he reached for Anna.”

  Both women seemed reluctant to continue. Apprehensively, Barak asked them, “How did you manage to elude him?”

  The two women exchanged glances. Anna dropped her eyes, and Leah squared her shoulders. “Anna grabbed a water jug beside the door and smacked Micah across the head.”

  For the first time Barak noticed the blood on Anna’s tunic. His eyes went wide.

  “Did you kill him?” he asked incredulously.

  “I don’t know.” Anna’s voice was little more than a trembling whisper.

  Barak didn’t know whether to be impressed or revolted. How had such a little thing managed such a crushing blow? Maybe there was more strength in her character than he had at first supposed.

  “And what of Sentius?”

  “We don’t know,” Leah whispered. “I must go back and see. But Anna needs to be gotten away from Jerusalem. If they know that I have returned, they will think Anna is hiding somewhere in the city, maybe at her aunt’s house. They will take time searching for her there.”

  Leah held out the bag of coins to Barak. “Please take her to safety.”

  Barak did nothing toward taking the bag. His eyes went from the coins to each woman in turn. He didn’t know what to do.

  Anna told the other woman, “I don’t wish to leave until I know if Sentius is well.”

  “You must. Your father will receive word soon and there is no telling what that will do to his health. Think, Anna. We can’t chance you being caught by those brigands.”

  It was a light scolding, but it brought Anna to instant submissiveness. Leah was right. She had to think of others, but right now her mind was too clouded to think clearly at all.

  Barak was in a dilemma. He knew he had to help the girl, though every ounce of training he had had as a Jew forbade it. He wavered back and forth, finally turning his back on Leah’s pleading eyes.

  Before he could decide, Adonijah stepped from the trees, bringing the light of a torch with him. His look went around the circle of expectant faces before coming to rest on Barak.

  “Your mother was concerned. She sent me to see if everything was all right.”

  Adonijah’s look fixed on Anna, studying her in puzzlement. He knew he had seen that face before, but where? A picture came to his mind of two girls standing across from the Temple gates and the sudden remembrance brought a swift frown to his face.

  “The Samaritan.” His voice was laced with disgust. “What do you want here?”

  In that instant, Barak knew what he had to do.

  “Adonijah, I must go on a journey. I need your help, but I want your word that you will say nothing to anyone.”

  Adonijah’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Has it to do with these two women?”

  Barak nodded, watching his friend closely. “Yes.”

  “You will explain it to me in time, I know.” His voice was heavy with doubt.

  “I will, but I cannot take the time now.”

  Adonijah stared silently at the small group. The look that passed between the two men spoke of trust and acceptance.

  “I must go and speak with Mother. Please stay here until I return. If anyone comes, hide the two women.”

  Barak passed his friend swiftly, going back to the camp. He found his mother alone and waiting for him.

  “Mother, I must leave on a journey. I will not be able to return before Passover is finished, so I will meet you at home.”

  Tamar became alarmed. “What are you saying? Where must you go? Does this have something to do with the woman who came to see you?”

  Realizing that his mother had heard Leah’s voice from outside, Barak tried to think of a way to explain. He cleared his throat, his voice gruff. “I think it better that you not know. Uncle Simon would not understand.”

  “Barak—”

  “Trust me, Mother. It’s very important. I will explain it to you when I return.”

  “Can you tell me nothing? Not even where you are going on this journey?”

  Barak sighed. He knew she wouldn’t understand, but he had never kept things hidden from his mother. “I must journey to Sychar.”

  “Sychar! In Samaria!”

  He stood there before her, a man yet still her baby. Tamar couldn’t begin to sort her t
houghts in time. Barak was already heading for the tent entrance.

  “Wait! Barak, you can’t just leave in the middle of the night. Where will you go? What will you do?”

  He stared back at her steadily. “I will trust Jehovah. You must, too.”

  “But Samaria! Barak, if they know you are a Jew, they will likely kill you! Why must you go?”

  Barak crossed quickly to her side and, bending, kissed her on her cheek. Without another word, he left her.

  ❧

  Anna studied the young Jew, who was making a point of not looking at her. His dislike was obvious.

  Leah paced to and fro, awaiting Barak’s return. Anna knew that her friend was in a hurry to return to her home to seek news of her husband.

  All three jumped at the slight rustling of leaves, but then Barak came into view and they relaxed. His look passed over each of them before he presented himself to Leah. Without saying anything, he held out his hand.

  Looking relieved, Leah placed the money pouch in his outstretched palm. She fell on her knees before him. “Thank you. Thank you.”

  Growling slightly, Barak lifted her to her feet. “Where can I take her for the night? We can’t begin our journey at night. We wouldn’t get three miles before being beset by robbers.”

  “Sentius had news of a caravan traveling to Bethlehem. They will pass through Sychar on their way. You will find them camped on the far side of the city, beside the road that leads to Bethlehem.”

  Adonijah had remained quiet throughout this exchange, but now he stepped forward. “You are going to Sychar? Barak, that is insane.”

  Barak closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, his gaze focused unwaveringly on Adonijah. “I know. I can’t explain now. I have told Mother that I will explain when I return.”

  Anna waited without saying anything. Her feelings were in chaos right now. She wanted desperately to find out if Sentius was all right, but she knew Leah was right—that she needed to be on her way. Still, it rankled that she was dependent upon a man who held such contempt for her and her country. As she dwelt on these feelings, her ire began to rise. Finally, she spoke.