Remnant of the Fall

Dad

Chapter One

Enan awoke abruptly, his breathing heavy. A vision of his holy city ablaze slowly drifted away, carrying with it the stench of burning bodies. He sat up in his sweat-drenched tunic and looked up past the giant oak trees. His racing heart quieted as he stared at the stars, bright against the dark sky. The strident snores of the men around him echoed off the solid tree trunks, reminding Enan he was away from home. He rubbed his perspiring face and let out a long sigh.

The dream. The same dream repeated over and over again in his mind. So vivid and real. Enan saw himself walking through rubble of the sacred temple, the hot ground searing his sandaled feet as he approached his enemy. Would he ever know whether it was he or the Roman soldier who lived? He could see the faces, and he knew one was his, but when he awoke, they slipped into anonymity, and he was left with no answer. Dreams of his Tirzah appeared less often the longer he was away training, and this one more frequent.

He inhaled the brisk night air, knowing he would not find sleep again. A short time later, he watched the golden sun rise. Soon, they would pack up camp. The weeks of absence from his village were a sacrifice, but necessary to prepare the warriors for the ever-pending possibility of invasion by the Romans. They were of the few Israelites who had been fortunate enough not to be sold into slavery and who escaped to remote areas in the North and formed a Christian sect led by Josiah.

Enan walked a short distance to the top of a hill to see the grove of pomegranate trees as he had so many times before during other weeks of training here. The sweet scent of the white blossoms tantalized his senses, reminding him of the orchards in his village of Zayin. He was ready to go home.

Go! Commander Levi passed the others to take the lead. He galloped by and gave Enan’s horse, Legend, a hard slap to the hide. Black, swirling clouds moved in closer behind them, a trail of shadow across the ominous hills. A bolt of twisted lightning flashed, followed by the deep bellow of thunder. The wind descended over them as sharp slashes of rain slapped their skin and stung their exposed faces, arms, and legs. Enan lowered his head, trusting his horse to guide him. A jagged shaft of light struck before them. Levi’s horse reared, rotated, and then ran in the opposite direction. Enan followed out of instinct, coming up next to Levi’s horse, turning into the beast’s path. The steed pivoted, responding to Levi’s commands, and made his way back toward the others.

Don’t stop until we reach the village! Levi’s voice rose over the crack of thunder as he galloped through the group of the eighty-six young men, all yearning for home.

The rain created thick mudslides down the hills. The horses whinnied, hooves pounding as they trampled through the sludge. Levi leaned back, putting weight behind him to keep from falling forward. Enan followed Levi’s example, gripping Legend between his thighs as he went headlong down the embankment. The ride up the last hill held nature’s fury as Enan tucked his chin to his chest and took the cold rain’s beating.

The rain lifted before they reached the hill by the village. Enan rode ahead, urging Legend into a gallop through a grassy field. He slowed when he spotted two horses, one gray and one black, standing together near the edge of the plain. He waved to Levi for permission to leave the squad, then turned and came up alongside the two steeds, approaching quietly. Enan dismounted, crept up to the embankment, and looked down, taking in the beauty of his Tirzah and the familiar face of his old friend Nethan.

Tirzah stood poised with bow in hand and arrow aimed at a target. Nethan stood to the left of her watching, his dark eyes narrowed with anticipation. She steadied herself and then let the arrow fly. It hit just outside the bullseye.

Much improved! Enan grinned and jumped down to the grassy bank where she and Nethan stood.

Tirzah stared at him wide-eyed and leaped into his arms. Enan!

His body relaxed next to hers. Remembering herself, she pulled back and touched his hair and then his face. His jaw tensed at the sensation of her hand in his hair, the brown curls which had grown almost to his shoulders since he had last seen her. She brushed a finger across his stubbly cheek. When her eyes met his, a rush of heat reddened her neck and face.

Nethan cleared his throat. Enan kept his attention on Tirzah as he smiled. I thought I would come to see if Nethan is any good at teaching marksmanship. I see he is better at teaching than hitting the mark himself. He laughed, turning to his friend, who grinned.

Is that a challenge? Nethan’s charcoal eyes narrowed with his words.

Any time, Nethan. Just say the word. Enan stared at Nethan, as if to familiarize himself with him again after so long an absence. As he embraced Nethan, Enan felt Nethan tense and knew instantly not to discuss the training he had just returned from.

Nethan put his hand on Tirzah’s shoulder. Tirzah has been practicing diligently, and it shows. Wouldn’t you agree?

Enan swallowed the sudden regret that he hadn’t been the one to teach her. He looked at Tirzah as she tilted her head, waiting for his approval. Yes, she has improved in my absence. He grinned, implying he meant more than just with her archery skill. Enan took Tirzah’s hand, and they walked toward their horses.

Nethan moved abruptly and marched up beside Enan. I hear Josiah is on the move. He kept his eyes forward with a tight smile edging his lips.

Yes, the rumor has grown that even the small townships must be guarded day and night. Thoughts concerning the birth of the uprising plagued Enan’s mind.

His people had been afflicted by the power of the Roman war machine long before the fall of Jerusalem. He could still hear the boom of destruction carrying through the Holy Land and see the ground salted to prevent repopulation of his people.

Enan squeezed Tirzah’s hand and stopped his thoughts of war. They paused at the top of the hill to see the river flowing alongside the tilled pomegranate orchards. I see the pastures are prepared for planting.

Nethan nodded. It will be a good crop with all the spring rains we have had.

The soil at the training camp, a good day’s ride from Zayin, held more sand than dirt. But this soil was nurtured by the Jordan River flowing from the Hasbani River of Lebanon. Silt crowned the rich land, providing two or three harvests a year and grassy plains for pasturing.

Enan took in a breath of rain-fresh air. The orange sun glided slowly behind low rolling hills. The small limestone homes looked like dollhouses from this vantage, encircled by a tall, stone wall that tucked them all in together. Smoke curled from rock and clay chimneys as evening meals were prepared for the families of this little oasis.

He shivered against the cold as the shadows slowly crept over the hills near the village. They gathered their horses and tacked up the equipment for the short ride back. Tirzah mounted her horse and waited for Enan. The breeze blew long, dark strands of hair from her face where they had strayed from their wrapping.

Tirzah dropped the knotted reins on Bluma’s mane. Are you coming?

Enan managed to pull in a breath. She always had this effect on him. He remembered the first time he talked to her, stumbling for words. Tirzah had made the situation comfortable for him by carrying the conversation—and his heart—away with her.

Yes. I’ll fetch Legend. The stallion stood larger than most but was quick for his bulk, his strength comparable to that of the Germanic cold-blood horses. Enan scanned the grasslands and saw Legend’s bay hide where the horse grazed in the lush green. He whistled, and Legend lifted his huge head.

Enan watched proudly as his fondest possession approached at a gallop. Legend slowed to a fast walk as Enan grabbed the thick black mane and pulled himself up onto the horse’s back.

Tirzah’s grin and quick lift of one eyebrow dared him as she urged Bluma into a lope, her tan tunic flapping behind her in the wind.

Such a beautiful spirit. Enan smiled and followed after her. He trotted Legend up next to Nethan and Tirzah as they entered the quiet village. They slid off their horses and strolled ahead of the animals while they talked.

It’s late. I should go. Nethan’s voice had an edge that cut Enan. His childhood companion was different somehow. Enan searched that suddenly hard face, wondering at the slight tension and the twitch of Nethan’s jaw.

It’s good to see you again, friend. Enan took Nethan’s hand, intertwining their fingers and pulling up into a tight grip. The handshake was a ritual they had begun as boys and continued as a reminder of their friendship.

And you as well, Enan. Nethan’s tone was courteous, but flat.

Tirzah reached out and hugged him. Thank you, Nethan. You won’t have to bother practicing with me for a while with Enan home.

I don’t consider it a bother. It’s a pleasure. Good night, Tirzah. Nethan gave her a questioning smile with lifted brows, then began his walk home.

Tirzah averted her eyes, gazing down at the soft dirt beneath her worn sandals. She took Enan’s hands in hers, running her fingertips across the hard calluses. Has your training been more demanding?

Enan felt Tirzah’s concern and wondered why it seemed to be more so now. Every training becomes more difficult and takes us away longer.

I’ve heard talk from my father and the town elders. She wrapped her arms around her as if seeking comfort. They say the time is near, that we will have to join the fight to keep the Romans from taking the nearby villages. The Roman scouts have been seen near our village too often for us not to act. Tirzah’s eyes glistened as she took a deep breath. They fear Josiah has been uprooted and is seeking protection among us. If this is so, we will surely be forced to defend ourselves. She began to walk away.

Enan clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to hear this, not from Tirzah. He tugged on Legend in frustration and stepped in Tirzah’s path to stop her. I have heard word of Josiah’s movements as well. But nothing is certain. It’s best that way, for Josiah’s safety. He circled her with his arms and lowered her head to rest on his shoulder. He had forgotten the softness and found himself yearning to continue touching her.

She pulled back slowly and stared into his eyes for a moment. I know. I just don’t want it to come to this. Not that I didn’t know it would someday, just not in our time. She took another deep breath and glanced down the road to her house.

Enan stroked her cheek with his fingers. Helplessness consumed him, for there was not any way he could comfort her. I know, beloved, but you must be strong. Trust God that our battle will be won, and we will be free to live as we always have. I would rather fight now than let others in the future fight in my place.

Tirzah looked down. Yes. As always your faith guides us. I am not as strong as you are, to place control with the Lord in all things. The closer something is to me, the tighter I hold onto it.

Those are the things we must give first and foremost to Him. He gave her a tender smile. You’re just worried. We all are. Enan wanted now more than ever to be here to protect her if there was an attack on their sleepy little village. So much innocence there.

One of the Roman armies would rip their village to shreds. Their only chance would be a siege. As much as he knew his place was to go to battle, he envied Abraham and Nethan, who were able to stay and defend their homes. A twinge of jealousy pricked his heart, as he thought of Nethan being there for Tirzah in his stead. Their relationship seemed to be growing each time he returned home from one of his trainings, and it unsettled him.

He glanced at her brightly-lit house, inviting and peaceful. You should go. Everyone is home and waiting for you.

Her lips curved into a shy, affectionate smile as she looked at him from beneath thick lashes. Then she headed toward home. Enan gathered his thoughts. He took quick steps to catch her.

Tirzah…

She turned to him, a question in her eyes.

He faltered, wanting to reassure her but struggling for words. I wish there was something more I could say to console you, but I’m at a loss.

The warm smile she offered filled him with hope and renewed his assurance in their affection toward one another. He gazed into her eyes. It isn’t in you to lose faith. You give me a reason to fight and return unharmed.

As she rested her soft hand on his beard-rough cheek, he felt everything around them fade away, just for a moment. She pulled away and backed toward the gate. Do you think you and Legend can catch Bluma and me next time?

I’ll always catch you. Enan grinned and watched her go. He didn’t move, just waited until she got to the gate enclosing her home, wondering how he could ever bring himself to leave her again.

Chapter Two

General Marcus entered the enclosed garden of the palace where a six-day banquet was being held. All nobles, officials, and military leaders were invited. Maximus, ruler of Mizpah, had displayed his vast wealth for eighteen days prior to the banquet. Marcus walked past the spoils from raids of over half a century and goods obtained from the trans-Saharan commercial trade. Ivory, gold, and ostrich feathers were only a few of the luxuries Maximus enjoyed.

Marcus took one of the dozens of silver wine-filled goblets that littered the long tables. Mutton, prepared a dozen ways, lay surrounded by olives, dates, and grapes, centered on long golden tables. Breads and cheeses with delicacies such as hummingbird, goose livers, and stuffed cow teat tantalized the guests. All were in high spirits, keeping the slaves busy refilling plates and goblets.

Maximus clapped his hands. Marcus turned to him and watched as Maximus hung one leg over the arm of his chair and flung the ends of his long, purple robe to one side. Maximus stared at Anthony, his cavalry commander, as he made his way through the room.

Slaves ran to either end of the garden to fetch the women from Maximus’s harem. The slaves returned with a number of dark-haired women in sheer dresses of all colors, who kept their eyes averted downward as they took their places. The musicians wandering amidst the merrymakers now scurried over to join together in song.

Maximus watched intently as he chugged down the remaining contents in his goblet. He let his voice ring through his great hall. Begin!

Marcus leaned back to watch as the beating of drums started and the women weaved and moved to the rhythm. The lyres joined in as the beat grew louder and faster. Maximus peered at the women over the top of his goblet as they swayed with the twanging of the instruments, keeping his eyes on two of them until the end of the song. He motioned to a slave and pointed to one of the women, who was wearing a blue dress with a silk sash tied around her waist, showing off her ravishing figure. The slave nodded and swept her away to Maximus’s private room while the others continued in another dance.

Marcus watched Maximus pause at the sound of his half-sister’s laughter. Marcus scanned the room with him until he found her sitting at a table with Anthony. Felicia ignored Maximus’s stare and continued her conversation. Maximus curled his lip as he gripped the arm of his chair and reached for his cup.

Marcus rushed over to him before Maximus’s jealous rage took him. My Lord, may I have a word with you? He glanced over to where Maximus had been staring and saw the beautiful Felicia throw her head back in laughter. Her dark hair flowed over her shoulders and large eyes sparkled as she gazed at Anthony.

Marcus smiled at Maximus’s obvious jealousy. Maximus placed his goblet on a golden tray held by a servant. He stood and followed Marcus through a smaller garden boasting a fountain surrounded by lavender flowers. They stepped into the consultant’s room, and Marcus shut the doors behind him.

The scouts have given us information.

Maximus nodded and sat by the large oak table. He rested his hand on the arm of a high-backed chair, glancing at the door, showing his impatience. His attention lay in the other room with Felicia and her sudden interest in the handsome commander. We have word of Josiah’s whereabouts. He is said to be in the hill country.

Maximus scoffed. That could be any of a number of villages along the hillside.

Marcus ran strong fingers through his dark curls and pursed his lips. The scouts have narrowed them down. He is in one of three.

Maximus’s condescending grin faded as he lifted a finger to his chin. His brows furrowed when he heard the low number. I see. How many days to reach the area?

Marcus looked up in thought as he recalculated the number again in his mind. Three.

Maximus’s eyes set upon the huge gold-plated doors, considering the situation. How reliable is this information?

Many scouts have seen him. He walks up to the hills and prays to his god each day. The times vary, but he is faithful with this one ritual.

Maximus slowly turns to face Marcus, whose feeling of excitement seeped away as doubt crept into its place. He would have to make certain Maximus would act. The general’s hesitancy and lack of drive to act upon this vital information frustrated Marcus.

We have no time or reason to wait, he urged.

Maximus shifted his weight, unsure. You sound certain of this, so do what is necessary.

Marcus stopped himself from saying what first came to mind. Did Maximus not understand the magnitude of apprehending their most significant anarchist? Maximus knew little of battle, and although great in size, their army’s motivation was not what it once was. They needed their ruler to seize this opportunity with zeal.

Marcus set his feet before speaking. These villages are among rough terrain and in difficult positioning.

Maximus gulped his wine and glanced at the door again. Marcus hoped Maximus’s distraction would serve to keep him out the decision making. Maximus sat up, searching for more wine.

The general drummed his fingers on the end of the table. I am aware of the difficulties we face, Marcus. Securing Josiah should not be complicated in such small populated villages and would make the capturing of those areas extraneous.

Marcus nodded and let a small smile lift one side of his lips, enjoying Maximus’s attempt to save face. Oh, but there is something you have never experienced—the pillaging and raping that are the benefits of a won battle. His lips slid into a smile.

Maximus stood quickly, knowing he had been insulted. Do not affront me, General.

Marcus’s frozen and unblinking eyes sent his message better than words. The two men stood eye to eye until Maximus gave a small nod. He sensed Maximus’s withdrawal and felt his influence ripen.

Marcus was not one to be cautious and had won many battles because of this trait, just as he had now. I will call a meeting of the commanders to prepare.

Fine. We will all sleep well tonight knowing of the victory ahead. Maximus slapped Marcus on the shoulder, holding his hand there to study his face. Marcus’s unyielding stare conveyed the affirmative answer. Maximus squeezed his arm, lifted his lip.

Marcus had played this cat and mouse game well with Maximus. He felt the blood pumping through his veins, knowing this was the beginning of the campaign they had been waiting for a reason to strike.

I will make the arrangements and send out the army come daylight. He was positive the information was well-founded and hopeful they would apprehend Josiah, but he felt ill knowing what no one else did. Hidden within these palace walls dwelt a secret that would always make him detest his dictator and consider him an inadequate ruler for a mighty province. A position he would soon take as his own.

Chapter Three

As he began to take the stretch home, Enan became caught up in his thoughts of Tirzah. He felt he would burst if he didn’t tell someone how he felt about her. Nethan was probably at his home, in the stables settling the horses in for the night, but he was not sure how Nethan would react if he told him of his plan. He hadn’t been able to read his friend upon his return home.

He glanced up the road toward Abraham’s house. It was well-lit, and a silhouette crossed one of the small front windows. He quickened his step and tied Legend to the gate in front of Abraham’s house, then walked to the door.

Before he could knock, the door opened and a small girl stepped out smiling. She hugged Enan’s leg. Mother, Father, come see who’s here! It’s Enan. Sarah pulled him into the house, and Abraham’s son came running as quickly as his chubby legs could carry him.

Enan bent down to catch him as he jumped onto Enan, taking him off balance. They both went tumbling onto the wool rug on the floor. Sarah jumped on top of them, and the two children giggled. Enan tickled them until they begged for mercy.

Ruth walked in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, and tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned over and kissed Enan on the top of the head. Your time away seems longer each time you go. But the Lord faithfully brings you safely back to us.

Enan lifted the children up onto a bench by the fire and sat next to them to get warm. I have missed your wonderful cooking and your silly children. He tousled Daniel’s hair. Sarah stared up fondly at him with her big brown eyes, grabbed his arm, and hugged it.

He thought of Ruth’s words. The training was more intense, and the trainers had been taking them on field exercises more. Maybe Tirzah’s concern was valid in that they were being prepared for engagement with the Romans. The reality sank in as he gazed into the fire.

This had been their way of life since The Fall—preparing to defend themselves against the Romans and protect their faith—but the thought of his own village going to battle suddenly made his stomach raw.

Enan, Ruth repeated, looking at him intently.

Sorry, Ruth. I was just wondering where Abraham might be.

He’s out in the stables. That mare of ours is due any day. It has been eleven long months. I hope the time is soon for her. She stood with hands on her hips and flour on her flushed cheeks.

Ruth was a fine wife to Abraham and a loving mother. She and Abraham had made a good home for themselves, and