Harvest of Gold (42 page)

Darius’s laugh lacked humor. “I like the knot that refuses to leave my insides even less. Go ahead. Tell me what you wish. That’s why I have come.”

“I only know of one source of healing. The One who made you can renew your soul. He can undo the hurt of your past and make you into the husband and father you desire to become.”

Darius nodded. “I thought you might say something like that. I’ve been thinking about it since the day we spoke.” He drew up his knee and rested a fist against it. “My father’s heart will break if I turn to your God. But my heart will stay broken if I don’t.”

Nehemiah let out a deep breath. He knew Lord Vivan would feel betrayed by what he was about to do. Their friendship might not survive the weight of this decision. Then again, he knew what the Lord expected of him. And while losing Vivan’s good opinion and warm regard would hurt, disobeying God would prove far more painful.

“Darius, the Lord sometimes calls us to build something. Something that is important in His sight. He called me to this broken down city in order to rebuild these ruins. He has called you to build a marriage with Sarah. In order to do that, you have to rebuild the ruins of your early life.”

Darius lifted his head. “I never thought of it that way.”

“Just as my efforts to restore Jerusalem were opposed, your marriage will also face opposition. Your soul has enemies that are as persistent and devious as Sanballat.”

“What enemies?”

“Sin. The wiles of the world. The dark forces of evil that come against us. Nagging doubts. Lies. Forces that have already come against you in your childhood.”

“What can I do against an enemy I can’t even see? An enemy that seems to be inside me?”

“You need God’s weapons of war to survive. You are a warrior. You know what it’s like when you come under attack. You know how to build up defensive walls, how to retreat, how to charge. You have to be a warrior for your marriage, Darius.”

Darius lowered his brows. “I do know how to be a warrior. What are these weapons that you speak of?”

“This world offers powerful weapons. Bitterness. Detachment. Unforgiveness. You can win an argument with these weapons. You can make yourself feel justified. Feel right. In the end, however, they will rob you of any chance at happiness. Like swords, they can sever the best of unions. These are the only weapons you have known how to wield thus far.

“But the Lord can equip you with godly weapons instead. Weapons that have power to protect you from your enemy’s attacks. Learn to pray. Fight for your family. Study the Law of Moses and live according to its principles.”

Darius was silent for long moments. “My first step is to commit my life to my mother’s God, isn’t it?”

“Well, unless He becomes
your
God, you won’t have access to His power. He cannot transform you if you don’t belong to Him.”

Darius covered his fist with an open palm. His teeth were clenched so tight, Nehemiah worried that he might crack them. With a jerk, the young man gave a nod of affirmation. “I will do as you say, Lord Nehemiah.”

For the first time Nehemiah noticed that Darius had been calling him
lord
, a rank that was not strictly true. Darius’s perceptions of worth were already changing as he drew near to the Lord. He was elevating Nehemiah because he could sense that by God’s standards Nehemiah was a man of authority.

“I think I always avoided you because I sensed that you could draw me near to God,” Darius said suddenly. “That was the real reason I didn’t like you.”

Nehemiah laughed. “You are going to like me even less by the time we are finished. For one thing, you will have to be circumcised.”

Darius went still. He bit out a long and fluid expletive.

“And you’ll have to give up doing that.”

Sarah tried to reach a small casket containing some of her writing paraphernalia, which Pari had stored on a high shelf. Too short to reach the box directly, she tried to rise on tiptoe. The awkward bulk of her figure got in the way, and she gave a vexed groan as she failed to lift it. A high-pitched squeak escaped her throat as a long arm reached over her head unexpectedly and grasped the casket with one hand.

“You should ask for help, Sarah. It’s no hardship for me to give you a hand.” Darius placed the carved wooden box on the table.

“I didn’t hear you come in!”

“I thought I could persuade you to rest for a while.”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

“You haven’t been sleeping well at night. A short nap would revive you.”

Sarah hid her surprise. She had tried to conceal her nightly struggles with sleeplessness and the ensuing exhaustion that trailed her steps into the daylight hours. She should have known that little escaped his notice.

“Come. I will bide with you.” Before Sarah could respond, Darius swept her into his arms and carried her to bed.

Sarah made a squeaking sound in protest. “Put me down! I weigh as much as a house.”

Darius made a face. “I own armor heavier than you.”

He sat on the bed behind her, her back against his chest, his knees raised on either side of her body like a bronze fence. To her delight, he began to rub her shoulders, his fingers tender. She gave a sigh of pleasure.

“Do you know, there is a lot you have to learn about being a husband,” he said.

“Hmm?” She opened her eyes and tried to emerge from her pleasure-induced haze. Vaguely, she remembered saying those words to him late in the night while they were in Damascus. She wondered what he had up his sleeve now. In recent weeks, he had managed to shock her out of her skin more than once. Not that she was complaining. He seemed to have read her list of secret longings and decided to make them come true. Leaning against him, she said, “Is that so?”

“Yes. I was always arrogant about the ease with which I learn. It’s been a crushing blow to my pride that in the most important area of my life, I’m a dim-witted learner.”

Sarah began to giggle. “Are you mocking me?”

“Not at all. I thought you captured the sentiment rather well, and now that it’s my turn, I decided to use your own words. I hoped it would win your favor.”

Sarah went still. “You cannot win what you already own.”

She felt Darius heave a deep sigh against her back. Coming up on her knees, she turned around to face him. A rush of tears blurred her vision. Her throat was thick with them as she whispered, “Darius, please, will you forgive me for not telling you I was carrying our child?”

He turned pale and Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the bitterness that he wouldn’t be able to hide. Fingers grasped her chin. “Look at me,” he demanded.

Sarah forced her eyes to open, trying to veil her disappointment.

“I forgive you, Sarah. I forgive you.”

She gasped. Words failed her as she tried to take in his declaration. His mouth pressed against hers in a hungry kiss. Against her lips he murmured, “I forgive you with all my heart.”

Sarah wept, relief and hope washing through her in overpowering waves. Darius clung to her, his arms caressing her back, cradling her against him. There was something different in the way he held her. In his embrace she had always detected an impenetrable reserve, as though he held some part of himself back—some part of his soul that he allowed no one to come near. In an inexplicable way, she sensed now that he had removed that barrier.

It was as if a wall had crumpled between them, drawing them nearer than they had ever been. She had never felt so close to anyone. She felt that she belonged entirely to him, and he to her. She knew he did not love her. For the first time, she did not care. He was giving her everything he had to give. Everything but his heart.

“You forgive me?” she asked, to make certain that she hadn’t dreamt this moment up.

“I do forgive you. Hush, now, sweetheart. Don’t cry so hard. I meant for you to rest.”

Sarah blew her nose in the handkerchief he held out for her. “You’ve freed me from an unbearable burden. Thank you.”

His chest expanded under her cheek. “Then I should ask
your
pardon—for withholding my forgiveness such a long time.”

“I give it, freely. I hurt you with my actions, Darius. I cannot tell you how much I regret it.”

He waved a hand. “Sarah, I know I have not been the best husband to you. I haven’t given you reason to trust me. I’ve been a blind fool, thinking so proudly of myself. I’ve only seen the good I’ve done, and ignored my failures toward you. I’ve been a harsh judge to you.”

Sarah caressed his cheek. His beard had grown in thick, and it tickled her hand. She smiled at the sensation, and at the pure joy of knowing that she could touch him in freedom, without worry that he might spurn her. “You make me happy just by being with me, Darius. Just by wanting me.”

He drew his thumb down the inside of her arm, making her shiver. “And you make
me
happy. I do have some good news for you.”

“More good news?”

“Nehemiah is arranging for my circumcision.”

For a short moment Sarah’s mind went blank. Then the meaning of his words sank in, and she squeaked an inarticulate cry before drowning him in kisses. “It can’t be true! … The Lord be praised! … Is it real? … I am so overjoyed!” she exclaimed breathlessly between kisses. “And so proud of you, husband.”

Darius laughed soundlessly before prying her loose. “You Jewish women are a blood-thirsty lot. I tell you your husband is about to have a very precious part of him dissected, and you whoop with jubilation.”

Sarah laughed and hugged him to her with all her strength. She became aware that his hands had curled into hard fists, and his mouth had become a hard line.

“Sarah, there are still many things left unsaid between us.” His face had turned the color of ash.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“That’s not true. It’s too easy for me to avoid personal topics. I prefer to contain my feelings, I admit. But I have discovered that only gets in the way of our marriage.”

Sarah caressed his fisted hands, trying to imbue him with comfort. She felt overwhelmed by his admission. It was a surprise to her that he was even aware of his tendency to keep his emotions hidden, let alone realize that by doing so, he hurt her. Hurt their marriage.

He gulped. It was an endearing sound coming from a man who seemed unfailingly elegant in his manners. “I’ve never told you about my life at the palace,” he said.

The day the wall was completed, Nehemiah sent the workers back to their homes for a few days of rest, with instructions that they were to return to Jerusalem on the first day of the seventh month. It wasn’t in Darius’s nature to postpone an unpleasant task. He asked Nehemiah to arrange for his circumcision at the earliest possible hour. He knew the governor had grand plans for the feast of the seventh month, and he intended to be present and recovered by the time of those ceremonies.

On the appointed day, the whole community gathered together to praise God for His great favor toward Israel. Nehemiah had ordered a high wooden platform to be built just inside the Water Gate. The land was still shrouded in predawn darkness when every man, woman, and child old enough to understand congregated there, waiting for Ezra the priest.

Darius asked Nehemiah why he refused to read the law himself. “You are the governor, the chosen of the king. You did all the hard work. Why should you not enjoy the glory now?”

“A good leader knows when to step into the shadows,” Nehemiah said with a smile. “Ezra is a scholar and a priest. He has the learning and the consecration needed for this task. He will glorify God better than I ever could. He will help the people understand what the Lord desires from them.

“Do not worry. I am not abandoning Israel. At the right time, I will join forces with Ezra, and together we will strengthen God’s people. Faith and diplomacy shall make a powerful union.” The corners of his mouth turned down. “Which means I must convince Artaxerxes to do without me for a while yet. I shall definitely need both diplomacy and faith to accomplish that feat!”