Before the Fall (3 page)

If their fears were put to rest, he was sure the people of Ai would welcome back their brethren. All he had to do was assure them. He was confident he could do that. He just needed to have a word with them.

Then, in the midst of the crowd, he saw a shimmer—then another, and another.

The mob parted, making way for soldiers—their swords gleamed under the sunlight. Raphael’s heart fell, knowing the soldiers would not listen to reason.

Putting Ethan down, he said, “Go into your tent, little one. Stay in there. Your mother will join you soon.”

“Miriam, come quick,” he called out when Ethan disappeared into the tent.

“What is it?” Miriam wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her arm.

“Go with Ethan. Do not come out until I tell you it is safe.”

“Why? What is—”

Miriam’s hand flew to her throat, and her eyes grew wide. “No,” she gasped.

Raphael touched her arm. “Miriam?”

“The others. We must warn the others.” Tearing herself away from Raphael, her robes fluttered as she sped to the other tents. “Rahab, Bithiah. They’re coming! The soldiers are coming!”

Raphael was about to go after her when dozens of people began to run through the tent community gathering their belongings. He looked back at the tent where Ethan was. He couldn’t leave him alone.

Grief-stricken, he saw the fear on people’s faces. Many of those who were able ran toward the valley and disappeared into the hills. The others, mostly women with their children and the old or very sick, sat helpless, their voices pleading.

“We have done nothing.”

“Where will we go?”

“We are forsaken. We are all forsaken.”

Miriam pushed her way through the crowds, rushing to the elderly man. “Obadiah, come with me.”

“What is it?” Rachel asked.

“The soldiers. They are coming for us. You and Raphael need to leave.”

Rachel looked at Raphael with a question in her eyes that he didn’t want to answer. If the men were here to destroy the tent community and the people that lived within it, there was nothing they could do. To be more accurate, there were not allowed to do anything beyond what they were assigned to do. They could not interfere. Rachel wanted to stop the unimaginable.

When he shook his head, her eyes darted to the tent where Ethan hid and then to Obadiah. Blood drained from her face.

“No,” she mouthed.

There was a loud grunt and a weathered hand reached out, seeking Rachel’s attention.

“Rachel, hand me my staff,” Obadiah said.

“What are you doing?” She gasped as he shifted his weight, getting ready to stand. She rushed to the tent opening and grabbed a long dark stick. She hurried back to him, placing it in his hand.

Muscles protruded through his bony arms as he pulled himself up, his legs wobbling when he stood. “I will meet the soldiers. Take Ethan and the others away from here.”

Rachel’s jaw dropped as she watched Obadiah shuffle away from her.

“No, please don’t,” she said, going after him.

Obadiah kept on walking, his feet stirring up dust as they brushed over the dirt. “Make haste, woman. I can only distract them for a short time.”

“I will go with you,” Rachel insisted.

Obadiah stopped. He looked back at Raphael, then turned to her. His hand shook as he reached out to touch her cheek. “I have lived a great many years. I have served The Almighty faithfully even when I was cast out from my own home . . . even when my daughter was slain. Now, on my last day of life, He has sent you and your companion. I never thought that with my last breath I would touch an angel, a daughter of The Most High.”

Rachel gasped and blinked. “I . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Obadiah gave her a knowing smile. “Go help the others, Rachel. Perhaps we shall meet again someday.”

“R
achel,” Raphael called out to her. “Help me find Miriam.”

Rachel looked from Raphael to Obadiah, who shuffled toward the soldiers. Confusion marred her delicate features. Should she stand with Obadiah who was determined to meet the soldiers head on or obey her orders?

Sad brown eyes met Raphael’s when she finally went to him. “Is there not anything we can do?”

He gazed deep into her eyes. How could he tell her that even if they tried, there was no guarantee the soldiers would listen to reason? Even though they had the power of mind manipulation and could use it against the soldiers, it was not for them to influence the free will of men. That is the creed that all archangels live by. Admittedly, it was something difficult to do, especially in a time like this. To have power to save others’ lives and not be allowed to use it. He only had to make the suggestion and the humans would follow his directive. Rachel knew about this gift, but her soul was so pure, the thought did not even occur to her that it would be an option.

“The best we can do is to help the others to flee,” he said.

Rachel’s lip quivered as she watched Obadiah continue his trek.

With each wobbling step Obadiah took, Raphael’s awe grew for the old man. Obadiah, fragile in body, was so strong in spirit that his only thought was to protect the others, not to avoid the danger that he was placing himself in as he approached the soldiers. He must have known that the end for him was near, yet still he walked on. It was that kind of courage that made Raphael love humans even more. If only Lucifer could see what he was seeing.

Raphael placed a hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “Come. I will get Ethan and you can go find—”

A sweet voice floated through the air above the growls of the angry mob and the marching of the soldiers. It was so soft, Raphael wondered if he had imagined it.

He peered over at the oncoming crowd. The soldiers had stopped a few feet away from Obadiah and were laughing.

The lead soldier stood, unmoving, his face half hidden underneath a bronze helmet and a thick black beard. Hanging off his shoulders was a red toga held together by a round golden brooch at his neck. The toga waved in the breeze, gently slapping against his muscled thighs.

When the lead solider drew his sword from his scabbard, a small figure dashed through the horde of soldiers. For a moment, Raphael thought it was a young boy. Perhaps it was the son of one of the diseased that lived in the tent community. Then he saw the flowing light blue robe that brushed against the ground, sending a cloud of dust as the figure moved.

“Stop. I beg of you. Please stop,” the woman cried out.

Her small hand latched on to the lead soldier’s large bicep. It looked so delicate against the hardened arm.

“Out of the way, woman,” the solider growled, pushing her away from him.

The woman stumbled a few steps forward and fell at Obadiah’s feet. Dark hair covered her face like a veil of silk. From the distance, Raphael could hear her sobs. The sound of it filled him with a strange feeling. It was like there was a rope tied to his chest that was pulling him to her. He dug his heels into the ground, frightened by the strength of the strange feeling. He wanted to go to her, to comfort the brave woman who was daring to take on an army of soldiers on her own.

He watched as Obadiah reached out his hand to her. Seconds passed and Raphael wondered what she was doing as she continued to stare at the ground. After a moment, the woman squared her shoulders and took hold of Obadiah’s hand.

And then, Raphael saw her face.

Tears stained her rosy cheeks; flawless skin was covered with dirt; and yet, she was the most beautiful being, human or angel, he’d ever laid his eyes upon.

He was mesmerized by her every movement: the way she brushed her hair off her face to hang over delicate shoulders; the way pink lips moved as she spoke her thanks to Obadiah; the way her eyes crinkled as she smiled at him and then transformed to worry as she glanced in the direction of the tents.

Turning to face the group of soldiers, the woman schooled her face, hazel eyes blazing with determination. Staggering back, Raphael’s breath hitched at the sight of them. It was only a glimpse. But that was all it took to set his heart on fire. The strange feeling returned in full force, coursing through his veins. He couldn’t understand what was happening to him. It was something that he had heard humans experienced. Rarely did he hear angels speak of such feelings.

He glanced quickly at Rachel and wondered if these were the feelings she tried in vain to keep hidden whenever she saw Uriel. He found new respect that she was able to contain them and then sadness that she had been doing so for quite some time.

He looked back to the woman and wondered what could send him to experience these emotions. And for a moment, he felt ashamed. Was he falling into the trap of lust? Was he desiring her because of her physical beauty?

He had seen beauty before. Gabrielle was lovely, as many of the angels were. And yet, this woman, there was something about her that entranced him in a way that no angel ever had.

He swallowed, shaking his head. No, it wasn’t lust. It was more . . . there was something more.

“You will stop this, Baka,” the woman said to the lead soldier. “You will tell your men to go back to the city.”

Baka took off his helmet and stared at the woman, his tanned face stoic. At that moment, Raphael wished he could read Baka’s mind. That was one power that no angel had, no matter how high in rank.

Baka’s dark piercing eyes looked from the woman over toward Obadiah. Slowly, thin lips curled into a smile and he threw his head back, laughing.

“Rebecca, after all these years, your heart still goes out to the weak,” he said. “When will you learn that it is the strong who are deserving of your attention?”

In three strides, Baka stood before her, gripping her cheeks. His hand was so big it almost covered her entire face. “You will learn your proper place, woman. And I shall be the one to show you.”

Rage surged through Raphael as he watched Baka’s fingers tighten their grip when she struggled to get away from him. She was like a delicate desert flower, ready to be crushed at the soldier’s will.

Without thinking, Raphael took a step forward. The only thing that stopped him from doing the soldier bodily harm and probably bringing more danger to people in the tent community was the sound of Rachel’s voice.

“Raphael, I have Ethan and Miriam. Raphael?”

Raphael blinked and Rachel’s concerned face came into focus. He glanced down to where she was looking and realized his hands were curled into fists.

What am I doing?

Slowly, he stretched out his fingers. He couldn’t believe what he’d almost done. With his angelic strength, a mere flick of his hand could send the tyrant, Baka, flying into the air. And so help him, that was exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted the menacing soldier far away from Rebecca as quickly as possible. But then, that would send the other dozen soldiers to attack them all, starting with Rebecca.

He wanted to go to her. But he couldn’t. Too many people would suffer if he did. And then, he would have to answer to Michael for the abuse of his powers and for the deaths that were sure to come.

He looked at Rebecca and was surprised to see the fire in her eyes was still there.

“Let go of me,” Rebecca spat.

Baka glared at her for a moment and then dropped his hand. “Stubborn woman. Why do you protect them?”

“They are sick. They need help.”

“They are weak and have been forsaken by the gods. And this old man”—Baka threw a glance at Obadiah—“who is he to you?”

She placed herself in front of Obadiah protectively. “An old man.”

Baka huffed.

“He deserves to live his last days in peace. It is not up to you to choose the day when a person gets to live or die.”

“You are wrong. It
is
up to me. I tire of arguing with you. You will leave. Now!”

“My father will hear of this,” she threatened.

Baka took hold of Rebecca’s arms and jerked her to him. He leaned in, the tip of his nose almost touching hers. “Your
father
is the one who ordered their destruction.”

Raphael could see Rebecca’s fierce spirit wane under Baka’s words. His heart ached for her.

“I’ll change his mind. I know I can,” she said.

Baka’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “The only thing that will change his mind is the feel of a leather purse on the palm of his hand. Can you give him that? Can you?”

Her face dropped, the light in her eyes fading.

“Ah, I see you are not totally blinded by love for your father and his weaknesses. Go back to the city now and I will forgive you and your womanly heart. After all, when I lay
my
purse on your father’s hand, you will be betrothed to me.”

Something in Raphael snapped at what Baka said, and the words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Leave the people here in peace.”

He ignored Rachel’s gasp and brushed away her hand as he walked toward the soldiers. The voice in the back of his mind told him he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t intervene. He had just told Rachel that moments ago. Yet, the thought of the hardened soldier, Baka, breaking Rebecca’s kind spirit and taking her as his wife was too much for him.

“Halt!” Baka held out his sword toward Raphael.

Raphael paused. He didn’t fear injury to himself by the sword, if Baka chose to use it. It would hurt and he would bleed, but it wouldn’t kill him. He worried that Obadiah or Rebecca would accidentally be injured if Baka decided to attack. They were too close to him.

As if reading his mind, Obadiah turned to Raphael and gave him a toothless smile. Taking hold of Rebecca’s arm, he took her several feet away from the soldiers, leaving a clear path between Raphael and Baka.

Raphael lifted his hands, palms facing upward.

“I have no weapons,” he said, taking a cautious step forward. “I mean you no harm.”

Baka’s eyes narrowed. “I said halt! How dare you disobey my order.”

Raphael continued to walk toward him, holding his gaze. In a low melodic voice he said, “I have no desire to harm you. I come in peace.”

Baka’s eyes widened and for a moment, he looked dazed. Guilt pricked at the back of Raphael’s mind. He was using his angelic gift of mind manipulation, something he never thought he would do.