Two
"Wake up, Aunt Kezi!"
Keziah grunted as Aden and Abel launched themselves onto her stomach, giggling.
"Pease get up," Aden said petulantly.
Abel's brown eyes pleaded with her as well. "Yeah, pease get up. Mother's not playing with us and Grandmother isn't either. We want you to play with us."
Keziah shut her eyes again, but about a millisecond later, she felt Abel's fingers touching her eyelashes gently. "Open them," his brother urged him on. "She looks dead."
"Aunt Kezi, are you dead?" Abel asked.
Keziah opened one eye. "No, but you two are about to be."
Aden, who had always been the faster of the two, leapt off the bed, squealing, and ran out of the room. He was quickly followed by his twin, who tumbled off Keziah's bed with a surprised "oof!" and stumbled out of the room too.
Keziah flung the blanket off her legs and chased the boys down the hallway, but as she turned the corner, she promptly ran into her father. Benjamin steadied his daughter, looking down at her with one raised brow.
"What are you doing?" he asked her.
Keziah felt about as tall as her nephews with her father looking down so sternly at her. She clasped her hands behind her back and smiled sheepishly. "Oh, I was um… the boys woke me… I was chasing… It was just that—"
Her father held up a hand. "Enough. Make yourself presentable and be ready to meet Gideon for the noonday meal." He kissed her forehead, tickling it with his beard, which made Keziah laugh as he sent her off.
She dressed quickly, but took care with dressing her hair, adding in a few twists and braids to her normal style, but was careful to make the style practical. She ran her fingers over her head. She didn't want to look like a vain, silly, preening girl, but she didn't want to look like a child either. She slipped on her sandals and then made her way down to the room where some of her family was eating their morning meal.
They were staying with an old friend of Benjamin's, an elderly man who worked as a potter. He was wrinkled and crabby, but he was a fine Christian and a hard worker, and though Keziah had never much liked him, she knew her father held him in high esteem. Besides that, he was Gideon ben Shahar's uncle. Keziah could only pray his nephew did not share his disposition.
She entered the room and found that her father, mother, and brother-in-law had left the house already. "Where are the others?" she asked Beulah as she sat and folded her legs beneath her.
"Shalom, sister, nice to see you too," Beulah said with a teasing smile. "They've gone to look around the city. Mother and Father are taking their annual walk. I believe Jacob intends to learn the route as well. Apparently he hopes to carry on the tradition."
The girls' parents took a long, circuitous walk through Jerusalem on the first day of the family's stay every year in the city. Keziah thought privately that her sister and husband would be just sweet a pair on their walk as her parents, and hoped that Jacob would insist he and Beulah do the same as Benjamin and Dara had done for decades.
Beulah sipped the goat's milk from her wooden goblet. Suddenly, her eyes widened in surprise, and then she laughed.
"What is it?" Keziah asked, leaning forward.
Beulah was smiling, and shook her dark head. "Just the baby," she said, laying her hand over her stomach and her unborn child. "She is far more active than even the twins were," she said with a chuckle.
"She?" Keziah raised both brows.
"Just a maternal instinct."
"And have you shared this maternal instinct with Jacob?"
Beulah shook her head. "Not yet. He so wants another son that I haven't had the heart to tell him."
"What are you going to name her?" Keziah asked. She leaned forward and put her hands over her sisters'.
"I was thinking Miriam."
Keziah beamed. "It's a beautiful name. What does it mean?"
"Strong-willed," Beulah said dryly, glancing down at her stomach.
Both sisters laughed and finished their breakfast together.
By the time the sun had almost reached its peak, so had Keziah's nerves. Gideon would be arriving at any moment, and she had never been so anxious in her life. Elijah ben Shahar, the prickly old man, was standing while everyone else sat, his arms crossed over his chest as his critical eyes scanned the room.
Keziah had to tighten her jaw to keep from fidgeting as she fell under his harsh gaze yet again. He wasn't unkind, but he was strict and Keziah knew he did not approve of her free spirited ways. She loved to laugh, to play, and she knew Elijah ben Shahar thought her childish and frivolous. Despite that, she was gaining a grudging respect for the man, who worked hard and loved the Father with all he had.
Keziah folded her hands in front of her body demurely, forcing herself to think docile thoughts. She was so focused that she didn't hear her father and brother-in-law enter the house, nor did she see the tall man approach her.
"So this is the one." It was a booming voice, and the sound made her head shoot up. Her eyes met those of a tall, black-haired man with a friendly smile lurking beneath his beard.
"Yes. Gideon, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Keziah."
She glanced at her father, and caught the flash of sadness in his face before he masked it.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Gideon said, kissing her forehead. His beard tickled like her father's. "I have heard very much about you."
"And I you," Keziah said, cursing herself for not thinking up something more clever to say. She was glad when her father moved the family along into the dining room, which kept her family's attention diverted at least a little longer.
Beulah sent her an encouraging look as everyone took their seats, Elijah at one end of the low table and Benjamin at the other. Gideon was seated to the right of his uncle, and Keziah was directly across the table from him and one place down. He caught her eye just before they joined hands to pray, and he winked at her. Keziah felt her face flare up as she joined hands with Abel on her right and Aden on her left.
"Our Most Heavenly Father," began Elijah. "We thank you for this day that you given us. We thank you for the food you have laid before us. We thank you for the gifts of family and unity. We ask you to give us gentle spirits, to make us humble and meek unto you, seeking only to further your work and not our own agendas. Please bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies and give us the strength to do what is required of us. We ask all this in Jesus Christ, our Savior's name, amen."
"Amen," chorused the rest of the table.
"Amen!" shouted Abel from her right, which made Aden laugh.
"Amen!" he called to his twin from around Keziah.
Everyone but Elijah laughed. "Here are two that are making a joyful noise unto the Lord," Keziah commented, still smiling.
Unfortunately, the boys took that as a sign that they could yell at the table. "Food!" shouted Abel.
"Foooooooood!" screamed Aden, both boys giggling wildly.
"Boys." Jacob silenced his sons with no more than a stern look.
Keziah was biting down on her lip to keep from laughing, but her amusement died a fast death when Elijah stared hard at her, shook his head once, and returned his focus to his food. Shame washed over her. I'm still a child, aren't I, Father? She couldn't bring herself to look at Gideon, worried that he might have seen her too, and that would be too much to bear.
The meal passed without further incident, and Keziah offered to put the boys down for their nap the second it was ended. Beulah gave her a good hard stare, but agreed.
Keziah felt her shoulders relax the instant she escaped the room as she herded the twins upstairs to the room the three were sharing.
"Are you ready for your nap?" she asked the boys as though it was the most exciting thing they had ever done in their lives.
Abel replied with a tired "uh huh" and Aden only nodded through his yawn. Keziah smiled as she helped them lie down. She sat on the floor next to their bedroll and ran her hand slowly up and down Abel's back as he drifted to sleep. His dark eyelashes fluttered on his olive skin, and Keziah smiled again. They looked warm and comfortable, full of food and happy.
"You two are so lucky," she whispered, touching Aden's smooth black hair with two fingers. "You love God in the only way you know how, and no one rebukes you for it. It's perfectly acceptable for you to shout and laugh… to play and have a good time without being disrespectful or irreverent. Why is that so wrong for me to do?"
She pulled her knees up to her chest, leaning her head against them. They were beautiful, her nephews. She felt a prickling in her throat and swallowed. "I'm scared," she said softly. "Gideon seems kind, like a good man, but I just…" Two tears fell and seeped into the fabric of her dress. "I just know I'll be a failure as a wife." She wiped away her tears fiercely, shaking her head. "Help me, Jesus," she prayed, burying her face in her knees. "Help me."
IIIIIIII
Footsteps pounding outside her door woke her out of her light sleep. Keziah started, her head shooting upright, then she groaned and rubbed her neck, still stiff from the odd position in which she'd fallen asleep. She couldn't have slept long; no more than half an hour, but the entire atmosphere of the city had changed.
Frowning, she made sure the boys were still sleeping peacefully and then rose, padding downstairs into the room where her family was supposed to be talking after the meal. It was deserted.
She turned and almost ran into Beulah. "Keziah, there you are," she said, her face red as she puffed a little. "There is news, little sister, bad tidings."
Keziah's eyes widened and she put her hands on her sister's arms. "What is it? What's happened?"
"The Romans are coming," said Jacob as he came upon the two women in the hallway.
"What?" The word was torn from Keziah's throat like a gasp.
"Emperor Vespasian and his son Titus are practically outside the gates. They intend to stop the Jewish Revolt."
The world was spinning. Keziah's hold on her sister tightened. "No," she managed to say. "They can't come here."
"Zion is a Roman province now," Jacob said, his mouth set in a grim line. "They can come, and they are."
Beulah sensed that Keziah was unable to speak, struck dumb in her shock, and she looked to her husband. "When?" she asked softly. There was barely an inkling of fear in her eyes, but Keziah knew instantly it was not for herself; it was for her children, her parents, her younger sister, her husband.
"They will reach the gates tomorrow," Jacob answered.
Beulah pulled her sister into an embrace, cupping the back of Keziah's head in her hand. "Father preserve us," she murmured.
Keziah removed herself from her sister's arms as quickly as she'd been pulled in, her head still shaking in disbelief. She stepped backward, watching Jacob and Beulah, then began to run. She ran out of the house and into the street, where people moved quickly, not speaking. The faces of the men were tight and worried; most of the women were pale and some hysterical.
Keziah ran without thinking, running as though if she ran long enough, she could escape what was about to happen. She dodged children in the streets, sulking as their playtime was interrupted by parents herding them indoors. She ran until she felt her heart would burst free from her chest and she was unable to drag any more air into her lungs, and then she stopped, leaning over to clutch her knees as she gasped desperately for oxygen. It took every ounce of self-control in her body to keep from retching.
"Keziah."
She straightened, and found herself staring up into the face of her husband-to-be.
Gideon ben Shahar was little surprised when he saw Keziah sprint out of his uncle's house, her eyes wide like a spooked horse. She seemed like a good girl, but she was still a girl, and bound to react impetuously when faced with news of such magnitude.
He approached her slowly, not wishing to scare her off. She was a beautiful young lady, but clearly distressed. Tears shone in her eyes, and her face was red from exertion. Her chest heaved and her hair was disheveled, and there was a smudge of dirt on her cheek.
"It's all right," he said in a low, calm voice, as quiet as he could be while still being heard over the noise in the street.
"How can you say everything is all right?" she demanded, her voice choked in a sob. "How can you act as though the city isn't being torn down around us?"
"Because I have faith that everything will turn out exactly the way it is supposed to," he said gently, stepping toward her. Her hysterics also came as little surprise. Both from what he gathered from her family, as well as what he'd observed that afternoon, she was clearly one who liked stability, and enjoyed everyday things—like playing with her nephews. He had wondered slightly at how she would react to a time when the outcome was uncertain, and he had narrowed it down between solemn silence and fear, and outright panic. He was observing the latter now, and wondered again if she perhaps settled into the former along with acceptance.
She had not spoken, and now her head was bowed. Gideon caught sight of the tears falling from her face and smashing into the dust, and he wished for an instant he could hug her. It would not be appropriate, however, to do such a thing while they were still betrothed and without the presence of a chaperone.
She lifted her head, and Gideon was struck again by what a beauty she was—and yet she was totally without conceit. He suspected it had to do with both her youth and her upbringing. She wiped away her tears with the heel of her hands. "Will you take me back?" she asked, not meeting his eyes. "Please."
"Why do you think I followed you?" he asked with a little smile. She still did not look at him, and Gideon wished he knew whether it was because she was embarrassed or simply trying to compose herself.
They walked back to the house in silence, Gideon careful to keep a respectable distance from her. He reflected on how opposite this journey was to the one they had taken only moments ago.
For one, she was aware of his presence. He doubted that she'd seen anything as she bolted from the house, which was also probably the reason she asked him to escort her back—she was lost. He'd had trouble keeping up with her at times; she was quick and dodged obstacles easily. Gideon was fast enough, but not nearly as agile as Keziah, and he'd had to stop dead in his tracks more than once to keep from trampling the others in the street.
Also, their pace was so leisurely that it was going to take them three times as long to get back to the house. He glanced over at her. Her head was held erect and her eyes were dry, but still slightly swollen and her nose was red.
"Thank you for coming after me," she said suddenly.
"You're welcome."
They reached the house, and Gideon caught her hand before she could reenter. He let her go when she turned and he pointed to her cheek. "You have a smudge," he told her with a kind smile.
"Oh. Thank you." She wiped it off with the back of her hand, then looked up at him, her large dark eyes still looking frightened, but it was covered better now. "I'm sorry I ran away," she said, and she was so sincere it made Gideon's heart ache.
"We all react differently to crisis," he said. "Yours was a natural reflex, attempting to run from the trouble looming over us. But you can't always run. Things will catch up to you, and there's no point in trying to hide anyway. We have a Protector, remember?"
Keziah nodded. "I know. I think I just need to be reminded. I like you very much, Gideon."
"And I you, Keziah. But I must thank you as well."
Her brows creased. "For what?"
"Reminding me to remember my Protector, and not allow myself to think I can solve my problems alone."
She smiled at him, and Gideon found himself drawn to that smile; it was innocent as a child's. "Then I am glad I ran away."
Gideon laughed. "I pray you won't make a habit of it.".
"Trust me, I won't," Keziah said, her face completely serious.
"Why so certain?"
She wrinkled up her nose. "I got lost."
Gideon grinned, and ushered her into the house.
