Harvest of Gold (30 page)

“This time, I’ve learned that my life is not mine, anymore. It’s yours.”

“You want to be that kind of wife to me?” Darius’s voice had grown husky.

“I do.” She didn’t tell him that she had another motive for wanting so badly to become a better wife. During these past weeks of separation, the Lord had shown her that she could not expect Darius not to make mistakes. Not to hurt her, even unintentionally. After all, he was only a man. But surrendering her life into his keeping meant that she trusted God to work out the details. She trusted the Lord of heaven and earth to cover her husband’s insufficiencies, and provide for her needs in the midst of them. She trusted
God
to be her provider. Not Sarah. Not Darius. God.

She did not voice these thoughts, assuming that Darius would resent the mention of the Lord. She remained silent, praying that the Lord Himself would one day give her a marriage where she could share such considerations openly, without raising the ire of her husband.

In the darkness they both moved at the same time, and by accident their limbs touched. Sarah heard the sharp intake of Darius’s breath. She was about to pull back and apologize for the unintended contact, when he drew her close to him. He held her clasped against the length of him for a moment and then kissed her, his touch searching at first, as if he was trying to know her again.

“Sarah.” His breath was hot against the curve of her neck before he slanted his mouth over hers once more. Her heart was racing so fast, she thought they must be able to hear its beat next door. He hadn’t touched her like this since Susa.

Sarah found herself getting lost in his touch. It had been so long! So—

With an abrupt move he pulled away. She could hear his breath coming fast and harsh, as if his lungs couldn’t hold enough air. “I should leave,” he said. He was off the bed and out of her chamber with such explosive speed that a flimsier door would have fallen off its hinges.

The return trip to Jerusalem took an eternity. Sarah knew that they had set the pace in order to accommodate her. They had also attempted to make the cart as comfortable as possible, placing thick mattresses on the floor and a removable canvas covering to ward off the elements. In spite of their care, she felt every bump in her lower back, like a sharp stab. She had to make frequent stops, be they convenient or not, and the jostling of the cart did not help. Her pregnancy affected her body more with every passing day.

She welcomed every hardship for the sake of her child. But she could not help wishing she were less awkward. To her surprise, Darius, who thrived on speed and normally would have chafed under the turtle pace of their convoy, displayed good cheer, even when she made him stop seven times in one day in order to answer the call of nature. She caught him laughing at her once, when she came back red-faced and grumpy from behind a thin bush. Although he didn’t seek to touch her again the way he had at the inn, he had fostered a fragile truce between them since that night.

To Sarah’s surprise, Roxanna and Lysander remained at each other’s throats every step of the way. The Persian girl had a knack for saying the wrong thing on purpose. Once, Lysander snarled, “I have whips softer than your tongue! Rein in your mouth, or I’ll do it for you.” Which was the closest Sarah had seen the Greek come to losing his temper.

Darius had had to step in. “Why are you so foul-tempered with her?”

“Why are you neglecting your wife?” was Lysander’s retort.

Sarah’s eyes grew round with shock. Darius’s features became shuttered. “Shut up, both of you, or I will bind up your mouths with linen.”

Roxanna began a new jibe. “Dirty linen!” Darius shouted, throwing both of them a hot glare that would have melted iron. Nobody spoke for a long time after that.

“Why do you think they hate each other so much?” Sarah asked Darius one night when the others were out of earshot.

“They don’t hate each other. They like each other. That’s their problem.”

“They have a strange way of showing it. I’ve never seen two people so thorny around each other.”

“I hope I can survive their constant bickering. They annoy the life out of my bones. I wish they would get together and be done.”

“Get together? Might as well make Athens and Persia best friends. It’s hopeless, Darius. I can’t imagine what makes you think they’re attracted to each other.”

The third day of their travel dawned sweltering even before the sun rose all the way in the sky. By noon, everyone was panting from the heat.

Lysander looked into the bright heavens and said, “I wish Apollo would not insist on showing off. It’s hot enough to burn the feathers off a wet duck’s back.”

“Apollo!” Roxanna said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “How can you believe in such a mercurial pantheon of gods? They are worse than you. Moody, vindictive, unreliable.”

Lysander swatted at a group of flies that had gathered on his horse’s neck. “It’s not my fault you Persians are so stingy that you can only believe in two gods. One, Ahura Mazda, all good, and the other, Ahriman, all bad. How is a man to worship when his choices are so limited?

“As to you Jews,” he nodded his head in Sarah’s direction, “You are even worse. One God. What is a man to do if he gets on the wrong side of Him? You can’t run into the embrace of a more sympathetic god. You can’t receive help from a rival divinity. You’re stuck.”

Sarah laughed. “The Lord is merciful. He knows our weakness. I find that one God, if He is the right One, is more than sufficient for my soul.”

Darius guided his horse near Lysander. “You might as well give up. You’ll never convince a Jew that your gods have anything of value to offer. She considers them idols. My mother was Jewish. She would have preferred to be beheaded than to give up on her Lord. They are acutely attached to their God.”

Sarah stretched her feet in the cart. “You do realize, my lord, that since the time of the Jewish exile, our leaders have decreed that any man born of a Jewish mother is himself a Jew?”

“How convenient for your leaders. A little pronouncement and one’s nationality is supposed to suddenly turn on its head.”

They came upon Jerusalem one late afternoon, with the sun low behind an outcropping of brown hills to their west. Sarah sucked in an astounded breath when she had her first glimpse. “The walls!”

“They must be halfway up, my lady,” Pari said, her voice high with awe.

Lysander’s horse was prancing next to the cart. “That cousin of yours has achieved the impossible. I did not think anyone could pull off his grand scheme. And yet, here we are, fewer than thirty days since he started, and look at the state of that wall. It’s a marvel.”

“Do you call this a marvel in Sparta?” Roxanna asked. “They are just walls. And not very pretty ones at that.”

Sarah rose on her knees to have a better view. “You don’t understand, Roxanna. When we first arrived—do you remember, Lysander? Jerusalem had been in the grip of such apathy that they couldn’t even clean up the mess gathering around their ears. Now they have built a wall that spans the whole city. It may not be a work of art. Nonetheless, it will serve the purpose of bringing safety to Jerusalem. And they accomplished this without slaves, without an army, with only the people of Judah volunteering their time. In less than thirty days, these people who once had no unity have come together and rebuilt their city.”

Nehemiah himself came to welcome them. Sarah noticed that his face was drawn and new lines had etched across his brow. She wondered when he had last enjoyed a good night’s sleep.

“Cousin Nehemiah, how did you manage to raise the walls so high in such a short time?”

He gave her a warm smile. “The people work from first light until the stars come out. You look well, my dear. I take it the physician had good news for you?”

“Yes. All is well, thank the Lord.”

“My heart rejoices to hear it. You have been in my prayers daily. Lord Darius, it’s good to have you back. Did you conclude your business in Damascus to your satisfaction?”

“I did. We plan to stay here until after Sarah has delivered the babe.”

Nehemiah nodded. “You are most welcome. Now I am certain you are anxious to refresh yourselves after your journey. Sarah will show you to your lodgings. It’s an old house and not comfortable, I fear. With the wall under construction, we don’t have the time or the men to spare for another building project. The new residence for the governor must wait.

“We serve dinner in an hour. Please join us as my guests.”

“I wished we could provide for our own meals,” Sarah said when Nehemiah left. “I always feel guilty when I eat at Nehemiah’s table.”

Darius drew in his brows. “Why? As governor, he is entitled to a food allowance from the people of Judah.”

“Entitled, he may be. But he refuses to accept it. He became aware when we first arrived that, due to recent famines and general poverty, the people had little to live on. In order to avoid being an added burden to them, he chose to waive the food allowance that was due to him and his officials. Previous governors had always insisted on receiving their share, laying heavy burdens on the people with their demands.

“Nehemiah has changed that practice. Instead, he uses his own savings and his regular salary in order to provide food for one hundred and fifty Jewish officials, as well as the visitors he often entertains from the surrounding nations.”

“He is paying for this out of his own pocket?”

“Yes, and let me tell you, my lord, it is not a cheap undertaking. I used to keep his records before I came to Damascus. He pays for one ox, six sheep or goats, and a large number of poultry every day. And the wine! His guests seem to have a hole in their bellies, for they drink with the thirst of fish and he has to lay out large supplies of different wines every ten days.”

Darius shook his head. “I’ve never heard of anyone giving up legal income.”

“I asked him once why he did not charge the people the fee they owed him as governor.

“‘Because I fear God!’ he said. ‘Do they not already carry a heavy burden? Have I not seen with my own eyes that they are poor and struggling to put bread on the table for their families as it is? Should I add to their hardship by virtue of the fact that I have the law on my side?’”

“He’s an unusual man. Well, tonight we’ll be his guests. But starting tomorrow, I will provide the rations for our company out of my own pocket.” Sarah noticed that Darius became thoughtful after this exchange. He had never had the opportunity to come to know Nehemiah on intimate terms. Because he avoided her cousin when possible, he had had little discourse with him. Nehemiah remained a stranger, one he did not trust. Sarah hoped that seeing him at work in Jerusalem would help Darius come to understand the man, and grow to like and respect him.