inflicted so much violence? Ari shifted his gaze beyond the rugged hills toward Jerusalem. When would Jehoiada, the high priest, send for them? Perhaps he should risk sending a message to the high priest about the increased patrols in the area? It was time to take the boy and leave. “Is that all, Master Caleb?”
“You have done a fine job, Ariel. It is nearly finished, yes?” Caleb ran his fingers over the contours of the piled stones.
“Another layer of plaster and it will be complete.” He had labored beneath the hot sun for months over what would be Mira’s portion of Caleb’s home once she married. He had prayed for her happiness and asked the Lord to bestow upon her great blessings as he had set the stones. It was the closest he would ever come to ministering to God’s people since he couldn’t perform the temple duties. Not that he bemoaned his fate. Keeping the young king safe was an honor.
Sorrow filled Caleb’s eyes. “These walls should have been built by Mira’s bridegroom.”
A protective instinct gripped Ari. He’d seen the way the men of the village steered clear of his master’s daughter. Even the promise of great wealth had not swayed many to seek out her hand and Esha, the one that did, was no more than a drunkard with idle hands refusing to help harvest the crops.
If Ari weren’t bound by vows already made before he had come to this village, he would offer his troth to her if only to save her from a cruel marriage to a sluggard. It was the least he owed her and Caleb for saving his life.
Caleb dropped his hands to his sides and sighed. “Alas, I fear she will never marry. I know I should force the issue. It is well past time for her to do so, and my health is waning.” He eyed Ari. “But who is worthy of her?”
The urge to respond expanded Ari’s chest. From all he’d seen, no man was worthy of Mira, even when she was contentious, a tendency that only seemed to occur with him, but it was not his place to say.
Caleb cocked his head to the side. “Forgive the ramblings of an old man?”
“There is naught to forgive, adon.”
“Come. Let us sit in the shade.” Caleb waved his hand toward the terebinth tree.
Taking his master’s arm, Ari helped him walk the short distance to the cut bench beneath the large tree where the thick leaves would shield them from the hot sun. Ari sat beside his master. Looking across the pale rocky desert, he waited for Caleb to speak, wondering if he should tell his master about the guards accosting his daughter.
“The Year of Jubilee is coming. I am certain the queen has sent her soldiers to ensure there will be no uprisings. Yet, that is not what troubles me.” Caleb drew in a slow breath. “Your time of servitude is near its end.”
Caleb’s soft tones skidded over Ari’s heart. Caleb had been all that was kind, and Ari would stay if God willed it. However, his life was not his own. Until he was released from his vow, his life belonged only to the Lord and his duty to protect the child.
“I know not whence you came or why or what choice you will make when it is time to release you.”
At this moment, Ari himself did not know if he would leave, or choose to remain bound to Caleb. The choice was not up to him, but God.
Caleb wrapped his fingers around Ari’s wrist. “I am an old man, Ari. I have come to think of you with great fondness.”
“As I you, adon,” Ari assured. Caleb had been like a father and Leah like a mother. While the affection he felt for them could never compare to his love for his own parents, he had grown to love them deeply. His years spent in the temple had blessed him with discipline, but garnered little, if any, affection outside his family’s travels to Jerusalem.
Caleb’s dark eyes pierced his. “Please. Allow me to finish. You have worked much harder than all my servants. Yet, I know,” he tapped his fist against his chest, “you are no man’s servant.”
No. Ari belonged to no man, only to the Lord.
“I do not know your quest or what lies ahead. You are a great teacher, Ariel, and should be teaching God’s laws.”
Ari thrust his fingers through his hair. Had Caleb discovered the truth?
He had never told Caleb about his past or the reasons he had sold himself as a servant. His master had never asked. If he did, Ari would not lie. But he could not, would not, confide in his master about his true mission.
“Do not worry over much, Ari. Perhaps, I assume incorrectly. You have a gift.” Caleb paused briefly. “You teach young Joash well the ways of the Lord. Ways not many are blessed with.”
Rising from the bench, Ari rolled his shoulders. His years of training for temple guard had never prepared him for the battle waging within his heart. Although Caleb’s assumptions were wrong, he was too close to the truth.
“I have taught all who were willing to listen to God’s law.”
Caleb nodded. “Yes, and as I said, a fine teacher you are, too. However, I cannot help but think your teachings are purely for the boy’s benefit.”
“You are mistaken. The boy is an eager learner, but,” Ari said, shaking his head, “it is for my benefit just as much as any.” In this he did not lie. Sharing the law kept him from forgetting the words written on his heart, for when he left Jerusalem, he had left most everything behind. His temple duties, his home...even his ambitions had been left in the tunnels beneath Jerusalem when their queen went on her murdering rampage, seeking to destroy her husband’s heirs, King David’s descendants.
“I mean no offense.” Caleb rose from the cut stone. “Come. It is hot. Let us get a drink from the well.”
Ari appreciated the change of subject, but he would rather convince Caleb that he had not singled the child king out when it came to teaching God’s laws. However, Ari could tell Caleb was done speaking on the subject. “Sh’mira has just gone that way.”
She would not approve of her father walking so far from his bed.
“Has she, now?” Caleb’s feet hesitated and then he smiled before resuming. “Let us see what my child has to say, today.”
The corners of Ari’s mouth lifted. Mira’s tongue could be viperous when she was in a good mood. Given the way she had left him only moments before, her mood was far from joyous. He should at least try and deter his master from a confrontation with his daughter.
“You should allow Leah to tend you, adon.” Ari grasped his master’s arm and assisted him along the cobbled pathway. Caleb’s tunic dragged along the stones.
“Bah, I may be old, but I can still walk outside of my walls. Even if my daughter thinks otherwise.”
Ari halted the chuckle in his chest. His master sounded much like his daughter. “The heat is heavy. Look.” He swiped beads of moisture from his forehead.
Caleb laughed. “Then maybe it is you whom Leah should tend to.”
Having learned long ago that his master was as stubborn as two oxen with full bellies, Ari chose to keep quiet.
Caleb glanced at Ari, his eyes filled with emotion. “If you choose to stay as my son, you are most welcome.”
