Free A.D. 33 by Ted Dekker

do not turn their cheek like Maviah’s god called Yeshua.” He spat to one side. “It is agreed, with caution.”
    “With caution.” Maviah regarded Maliku for a long moment. Her brother’s head tilted down, barely perceptible. And with that slight movement, it was done. But with caution.
    She lifted her eyes to Judah. “Protect us all from him, Judah. Your tormentor is in your hands now. I only ask that you show him mercy.”
      
    JUDAH SPENT the day inspecting the camp with Maviah and Talya, having sequestered Maliku with Saba, because Judah was now Maviah’s protector. Her way with each man, woman, and child she engaged amazed him. She loved them all, no matter how dirty, or thin, or ill, or healthy, without any notice of their status, though she paid respect to all elders as was custom.
    But her heart was stolen by the children, many of whom were orphaned. To each she would offer an embrace and a wide smile, ruffling their hair and wiping away any tears.
    How they loved her. And how they loved Talya, who walked among them without realizing how precious he was in the sight of all. In the Bedu way, Talya was son of a queen and so, a prince.
    Judah knew many of the people from his years as a warrior in Rami’s service, and yet they regarded him with even higher praise now, knowing he’d emerged unscathed from Saman’s dungeons. He embraced them, one by one, and exchanged the news, quickly reacquainting himself with his own reputation.
    But no matter how deep they ventured into the camp, he could not free himself from the images of Saman and Kahil, only a short distance north in Dumah. There, the serpent coiled with forked tongue, testing the air for the right time to strike at their heel.
    They slaughtered twenty camels and twenty goats for the gathering that night, and Judah saluted the roar of twenty thousand Bedu when Maviah raised his hand for all to see.
    And even more, Judah’s mind was drawn north, to the lair.
    The moon was full and high when Judah excused himself from Fahak’s tent to check on Maliku. He found the betrayer at Maviah’s tent with Saba. Talya was already asleep behind a curtain.
    “Sit with Maviah and the elders, Saba. They are missing you.” He looked at Maliku, who was poking at the coals of their fire with a stick.
    Saba grunted. “There’s no need.”
    “I would speak to my captor alone,” Judah said. This was to be understood.
    Saba gathered his white robe and stood, eyeing them both. “Watch Talya closely.”
    Judah watched him leave, then sat across the smoldering fire, glancing at Maviah’s brother. For a few minutes, neither spoke.
    “You know the Thamud too well,” Judah said.
    Maliku stared at him.
    “To honor Maviah, I won’t blame you for what you’ve done. I only seek to know my captors as well as you do.”
    “Then your heart will be blackened as surely as mine was,” Maliku said in a low voice.
    “My heart was blackened long ago.”
    “And for this I beg your forgiveness.”
    Maliku stood and retrieved a waterskin and poured water into a pot for heating.
    “Tell me their weaknesses,” Judah said. “Do their warriors not sleep? Are they impervious to poison? Does Kahil remain in the palace night and day?”
    At this, Maliku stopped pouring. The night was quiet. All the children and most of the women had retired. There remained only whispers around a thousand campfires.
    Judah continued. “You and I both know that there can be no peace for Maviah so long as the serpent lives. They send her away in peace, but we both know they fear her and will hunt her to the end.
    “Help me crush the head of that serpent, Maliku, and you will once again be known as victor among the Kalb. Hear me: I seek a way for only one. If I go alone and fail they cannot retaliate against the whole tribe—only me.”
    The coals popped. Talya slept.
    “There is a way,” Maliku said. “But it would have to be done quickly.”
    Judah glanced over his shoulder. “How?”
    The