Into the Wilderness: Blood of the Lamb (Book Two) Read Free Page A

unsure whether she had given enough blood to cure him—his frailty still worried her. If he should succumb to Te Matee Iai again…she dared not think of the fight she'd have on her hands to save him then, knowing how angry he had grown when she'd been bled that second time. It nearly killed their fledgling friendship on the spot. And if he knew she had hidden within her small bundle of clothes the very instruments of torture used to take her blood, just in case he needed more, she doubted she could stem his rage. Lazarus would undoubtedly steal her blood without a care, but Joseph was far more compassionate—a special quality in a world where “goodness” was merely a word used by the Apostles to maintain control.
    Suddenly the sails started flapping and both booms swung madly across the deck. The tips of the hulls dug deep into the swell and the whole vessel pitched and reeled off its course.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Lazarus shrieked, water surging over him. He scrambled down the deck, shaking himself like a village dog after a dip, as Maryam tried to bring the tiller around and the stern rudders fought against the forward momentum of the swell. But they refused to respond, and Maryam had no idea what to do next. It was Lazarus, hauling on the sturdy woven jute ropes, who finally reined the sails in and edged the prow back around towards the west.
    â€œIdiot,” he cried, his features reduced to a sharp mask of derision in the night's dull light. “If you can't stay awake, then leave the tiller work to me.”
    He stood over her now, a threatening silhouette against thesky, and Maryam felt consumed by shame. She knew he thought of girls as lesser beings, and it mortified her to have proved him right. But she tightened her hand on the tiller, quickly checking the heavens to confirm their course. “I'm sorry,” she conceded. “It won't happen again.”
    He snorted at her words. “If you're as good at sailing as you are at keeping secrets, then I fear we're doomed.”
    She looked up at him sharply. “What do you mean?”
    â€œCome on,” he jeered. “Do you really think I just accidently spotted you and your faithful lap-dog Ruth as you stole away? Are you really that stupid?”
    Still she did not understand. She'd presumed Lazarus had simply happened on them as she and Ruth fled past on their way to join Joseph at the boat. Was he now saying this was not the case? Much as she hated reacting to his mocking, she had to find out what he meant. “You already knew?”
    Lazarus slowly adjusted a rope, dragging out her uncertainty with obvious relish. Finally he squatted down next to her, replying in a voice spliced through with scorn. “I've been watching you,” he drawled. “You're different from the other Blessed Sisters. Trouble.”
    â€œI don't care what you think of me,” she struck back, “when you had so much, and yet you chose to use it to cause others pain.”
    For a split second her words stalled him, but then he regained himself. “Is the master blamed for beating the stupidity out of his dog?” He shook his head. “You people beg for pain—you crave it—all in the name of sacrifice to the Lord.”
    â€œYou think we have a choice in this?”
    â€œYes I do!” He caught her gaze and held it. “And you,prickly little stonefish, are my proof of that blind stupidity!” He laughed, applauding himself, the percussion of his hands loud in the night. “When I found you at Joseph's house after your first ridiculous attempt to escape, I knew there was something up. I've followed you, sweet Maryam. Stood outside the door while you lay there drunk on toddy as you let my mother give Joseph more of your blood. I've listened to your secret conversations and know your fears. Believe me, I know more about you now than you know of yourself.”
    â€œBut—” Maryam's words