A Stray Drop of Blood (A Stray Drop of Blood #1)

“Pardon?”


He smiled. “It was a while ago, now. We were all in a terrible panic, of course, and no one knew quite what to do. The fever had hit her very suddenly, and no one expected recovery. The mourners were already gathered, but I just could not accept it. So I went into the city looking for the teacher I had heard was here, the one they call Jesus. You have heard of him?”

“Briefly.” Ester stilled. How strange to have heard nothing of this man, then for him to come up twice in such a short time.

“I am not certain what it was that possessed me to go to him, especially with all of the concern he has been causing the Pharisees. But I found him, and the moment I looked at him, I knew he could heal my daughter. So I begged him to come, and he agreed. But when we arrived, the mourners were wailing, and my wife met us at the door with the news of her death. But the master said she was only sleeping and put everyone out of the house and then simply went in and commanded her arise.”

“And she did?” Her disbelief surely showed on her face.

“She did. And now she is in better health than she has ever been. The teacher told us not to tell everyone what happened, but even so rumors have spread. Most have at least heard something about it.”

Ester dropped her gaze again. “I am not privy to much gossip. But I am glad to hear she was restored.”

Silence reigned for a moment more. Jairus cleared his throat, his gaze flitting to Abigail. “I did not know that you had a daughter.”

Ester smiled. “I have not. Abigail is my dearest companion.”

Jairus nodded. “Your son, then. He is well?”

She nodded in return. “He has been in Rome these past years, but is even now on his way home to serve under his father.”

Jairus moistened his lips and sighed lightly at the mention of Cleopas. “You are happy with your husband?”

Though most would deem the question forward, especially on a street where anyone could overhear, Ester knew no surprise. She smiled. “He is a wonderful man. I love him with all of my heart.”

Jairus’s face relaxed. “I am glad. All of these years I have wondered, but I never had the courage to ask you. But with all that happened to my little Keren, I have acquired an altered view of life. One should never live with regrets in one’s heart. So I knew when I saw you that I could not let another day go by without asking for your forgiveness for my past ill treatment of you.”

Ester did not smile again, but she trusted he could see her sincerity. “You have been forgiven for many years, Jairus. It is I that has yet to be excused in the eyes of my people.”

He shook his head. “Yet it was you who did no wrong.”

She shrugged, hoping to look disinterested in the old pain after all this time. “But I would choose the exact path again if the years were given back to me.”

“Well.” His hand swayed gently into his leg, obviously at a loss for conversation. “Give my regards to Cleopas, Ester. And best wishes for your son upon his return. And to you, of course, and your lovely companion.” He turned to Abigail and smiled. “You remind me of my Keren. I can only hope she will grow to share the same beauty I see blossoming in you.”

Abigail blushed and uttered the appropriate words of gratitude.

Ester smiled anew. “It was a glorious surprise to speak with you again, Jairus.”

“And you.” He nodded in farewell and continued on his way, leaving the two women alone again.

“I think I am ready to go home,” Ester whispered.

Abigail was quick to take Ester’s arm, for which she was glad. The tears already crowded her eyes.





Chapter Five





“I will brew you some camomile.”

Ester nodded and took a deep breath, trying to regain herself. She was more than happy to simply sit now, her body engaged in no movement but the methodic stroke of her fingers along her garment’s edge. Sunlight streamed in through the opening to the courtyard, along with the distant noise of clanging weapons as her husband continued to keep his men trained and ready, although there was no one left to conquer. Nothing but the very spirits of her people, and they would put up many a fight before succumbing completely. It was the rebellions they trained for now, day in and day out, so that when the inevitable assaults came they could be crushed as quickly and easily as possible.

Sometimes it still scared her to think that it was her husband training the Romans to kill her people. To crush them.

But she could not think that way. He was doing his job, serving his country.

Just as the Rebel Jews held that they were doing theirs.

Who was right? Who could tell? Who was she to judge?

“Here, mistress, drink this.”

Roseanna M. White's books