Free Keepers of the Covenant by Lynn Austin

Persian king, and there isn’t anything we can do about it.”
    “Can’t you hide?”
    “I’m not sure. The men in our village have been praying about it, and some people are talking about escaping into the desert.”
    “You should go. And if you have trouble walking, maybe you could ride a donkey.”
    “Yes, sweet child. I will. I ride a donkey whenever we travel to God’s temple in Jerusalem. We’ve been going there as often as we can to pray and beg for His mercy. I have friends there who are priests, and they believe that our God is going to save us. I don’t know how He’ll do it, and I know it looks hopeless right now, but they’re telling us to trust God.”
    Amina heard laughter and running feet, and she ducked down to hide as the other children ran past. “Aren’t you playing with them today?” Hodaya asked. “And where’s your sister? . . . What was her name?”
    “Sayfah. Abba wouldn’t let her come. He’s punishing her because she told him she doesn’t want to get married.”
    “Married! How old is she?”
    “Eleven. Abba chose a husband for her from another village, and she has to marry him as soon as she turns twelve. He says her husband will be rich after—” After they kill the Jews. Amina put her hand over her mouth, regretting what she’d been about to say.
    Hodaya pulled Amina close for a moment and kissed her forehead. “You are a dear, sweet girl. Don’t let the ugliness of life ever change that.”
    “I need to go.” If she didn’t, she would start crying, and Mama would ask why.
    “Thank you for coming to warn me,” Hodaya said. “And may God bless you for your kindness.”
    “I . . . I hope I see you again.” Amina stood on tiptoe to kiss Hodaya’s soft cheek, then hurried from the booth, her heart breaking. When she reached the end of the lane, she turned to look back at her friend one last time.

Chapter
8
    B ABYLON
    N ear the end of another disheartening day, Ezra stood before all the people in the house of assembly to lead evening prayers. Night would fall while they prayed and another day would end, bringing them one day closer to their execution. He cleared his throat, feeling inadequate, wondering if he would ever become accustomed to standing here as their leader. “This evening, I want to encourage you with this prophecy from Jeremiah,” he began. He was desperate to feel the promise conveyed in the prophet’s words, desperate to disguise his own growing hopelessness. Only eight months left to live. Thirty-two weeks. “‘This is what the Lord says, he who appoints the sun to shine by day, who decrees the moon and stars to shine by night, who stirs up the sea so that its waves roar—the Lord Almighty is his name: “Only if these decrees vanish from my sight,” declares the Lord, “will the descendants of Israel ever cease to be a nation before me.”’”
    Ezra paused to glance up for a moment, and his knees went weak. The Babylonian sorcerer who had brought the devastating news of King Xerxes’ decree stood in the rear doorway. Ezra gripped the podium, trying to draw enough air to speak.The assembled men turned to see what Ezra was staring at, and when Jude spotted the sorcerer, he quickly pushed his way toward him. “You’re back! Is there more news?”
    The old man showed him a square of parchment. “The king issued another decree.”
    Ezra longed to sit down. He didn’t think he could bear more bad news. He took a shaky breath and said, “Please come forward and share it with us.” The sorcerer hobbled to the front of the long, narrow hall to climb the bimah. Even after all of Ezra’s hard work these past few months, studying with his colleagues day and night, praying with the Jewish community, showing them God’s promises, their hope seemed tenuous, their faith as fragile as cobwebs. Were his efforts going to be undone by another decree?
    The hall fell still as the Babylonian handed the parchment to Ezra. “This just arrived