A.D. 33 Read Free Page B

of Fahak, who had helped save me from the deadly Nafud desert two years earlier. He had since sworn to protect me from any jackal who sniffed at my tent.
    Seated behind the circle of elders, Arim raised his voice.
    “Maviah wishes we march in three days’ time to rescue my blood brother, Judah, and it is my wish—”
    “Silence, Arim!” Fahak snapped up a trembling, bony finger in warning. “Do you now speak for the sheikhs with your wishes?”
    “I only say—”
    “It is time for sheikhs to speak and for boys to be silent!”
    “Yes, Fahak. Forgive me. And yet you challenge her wishes to—”
    “Not another word!”
    Arim bowed his head. “Forgive me, mighty Fahak, most wise one. I speak out of turn.”
    “This is not news,” the old man said, then coughed again.
    Under other circumstances I would have offered a glance of courage to Arim, whom I loved like a younger brother, though I knew he sought affection of a different kind from me. He was perhaps eighteen, long since a man.
    And I would have smiled at Fahak’s antics, because, although he led the council, he did not seem to know the weakness of his aging bones.
    Immediately the debate resumed, back and forth, around and around, bound by tradition and a pride that ran deeper than marrow. Should we go to Dumah in peace or with swords? Should we negotiate with Saman for restitution or seize it? Should we march in three days or in three weeks?
    In my corner of the tent I held my tongue as they worked the fear out of their blood with words of bravado. Had I not known such anxiety many times? Did I not feel it even as I heard their doubts? Fahak was right: Saman’s son, Kahil, might well slaughter us without thought.
    Kahil, the one who’d thrown my infant son to his death upon the rocks.
    Kahil, the one who’d once blinded me.
    I closed my eyes and let my fear swell. I did not rest it. This would only fuel the offense. Accept. Turn the cheek.
    Had not a storm once threatened to crush me on the Sea of Galilee? Had not I faced my own death in the arena at Petra? And yet I had followed the Way of Yeshua and emerged unharmed.
    Still I felt fear, for now twenty thousand had put their trust in me. Kahil, who’d taken the life of my first son, would now surely threaten the life of my second, Talya. And of all the orphans gathered to safety here.
    Judah’s life was also at stake. Judah, my warrior and my lover, fading in the dungeons of Dumah.
    Judah, my lion. My heart ached for him.
    Talya, my little lamb. Forgive me. I would die for him.
    Saba, my tower, stand by me. Yet he was not here to calm me.
    Yeshua, my master, speak to me.
    Peace. Be still…
    I took a deep breath. Stillness came to my mind and I lingered there, drawing strength.
    “…Maviah, our queen.”
    Arim had spoken. I opened my eyes and saw that he faced me, standing.
    The council turned to me.
    “Speak to us, Queen Maviah,” Arim said. This time Fahak made no attempt to silence him. My time had come.
    I gathered my dress and slowly pushed myself to my feet. I let my gaze rest on their faces, then bowed my head in reverence to Fahak.
    “You are most wise, my sheikh. I am honored to be the queen of such powerful men who have seen the Light of Blood in my eyes and followed a path of bravery rarely known, even among the Bedu, subjects of no kingdom but the kingdom that reigns in the heart. It was you who saved me from the desert.”
    Fahak dipped his head. “Yes, it was I who saved you.”
    “Indeed. It was you who believed in me.”
    Another nod, but with some caution this time, because he’d often found himself cornered by my gentle words.
    “The first to believe,” he said.
    “You, Fahak, were most wise for having believed in my name.” My voice soothed like oil. “For I was the daughter of Rami, who was the greatest of all sheikhs among the Banu Kalb. And as the daughter of Kalb, I found the power of a new Father in the name of Yeshua, in whose name I believed. Is this not