Free In the Shadow of Jezebel by Mesu Andrews Page B

have no time for this nonsense.”
    The Carite leader released Amariah, commanded Jehoiada’s release, and then bowed respectfully. “Please accept my apologies. I merely ask that the high priest wait for my men to accompany him. Give them instruction to take the Ark wherever you like. They will guard it—and you—with their lives.” He lifted his head slightly to await Amariah’s answer.
    “That’s a brave offer, but no one may enter the Holy of Holies, let alone touch the Ark and carry it to safety.” Amariahexchanged some unspoken message with Obadiah. “Only Yahweh’s priests can pass through the pillars of Jachin and Boaz into the Holy Place. I’ll stand watch inside, near the golden altar, and you brave Carites may stand between Yahweh’s pillars.”
    “I’ll join the Carites,” the young Temple guard said, stepping forward to support Amariah’s left arm. “But if the raiders breach the pillars, we will enter the Holy Place to defend you—and the Holy of Holies to defend the Ark. I’d rather be stricken for holy zeal than watch Yahweh’s Temple or high priest desecrated.”
    Amariah’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “We all walk on holy ground tonight, my sons. It will be Yahweh’s will alone that preserves any of us until dawn.”

8
    2 C HRONICLES 21:16
    The L ORD aroused against Jehoram the hostility of the Philistines and of the Arabs who lived near the Cushites.
    T he Carites and young Temple guard surrounded Amariah and whisked him out the door. Jehoiada turned to Obadiah and kept his voice level, though anger still simmered. “Well? Where are we going?”
    The lone Carite glared, equally impatient.
    Obadiah ignored the question, grabbed an empty shoulder bag, and started filling it with bread, hard cheese, lamps, wicks, and a flask of oil. “We’ll need hooded robes, one for each of us. And you’ll need a sword, Jehoiada.” He stopped packing and aimed a grin at the second priest. “Do you even know how to use a sword, my friend?”
    “I’ve never been trained to use one, if that’s what you mean.” Jehoiada stormed into Amariah’s room to gather the robes, offended that Obadiah would point out his limited experience. He wasn’t a gatekeeper, he was second to the high priest.
    From the adjoining room, he heard the Carite chuckle. “If we put a sword in that big priest’s hand, only someone very foolish or very brave will cross him.”
    Jehoiada returned, tossing robes at the three waiting men.The Carite’s grin was friendly, not superior, putting Jehoiada at ease. “I suppose if we’re going to risk our lives together, I should know your name.”
    “I’m Zev.” The Carite bowed slightly.
    Jehoiada returned the polite gesture. “My name is Jehoiada, and I’ll get a sword from one of the Temple guards in the courtyard on our way to . . .” He raised his brow at Obadiah, who had already donned his robe and was helping King Jehoram with his.
    “I don’t have time to explain.” The nobleman pulled his hood over his head, and the other men hurried to do the same. Jehoiada glimpsed King Jehoram’s pale features and saw him wince as Obadiah cradled his shoulders, leading him like an old woman out the door. “Keep your swords hidden unless you need them,” Obadiah whispered over his shoulder.
    They hugged the wall along the rainy courtyard. From the shadows, Jehoiada recognized one of his Levite guards, who was understandably startled by the four shrouded figures approaching.
    “It’s me!” Jehoiada raised his hood slightly when the guard drew his weapon. “Don’t ask any questions. Just give me your sword and continue helping the wounded. If the city falls, get as many of the sacred articles out of the Temple as you can.” To his credit, the Levite silently offered up his sword, his expression mirroring Jehoiada’s fear and confusion.
    “This way!” Obadiah looped King Jehoram’s right arm around his neck, led them through the Temple’s Sur Gate, and