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Her cheeks warmed. It was on her tongue to deny her role but Ishiah grasped her hands with his papery ones. Heat seared her cheeks at the thought of this man of God, one who was holy and righteous touching her maimed hand.
“Shalom, Mira. It is a great fortune you were with the child when Ari was unable to be.”
She blinked, and then looked at Ari. Returning her gaze to Ishiah, she responded, “It was I who was fortunate, for it was Joash who saved me from another attack.”
Where had Joash gone? She found him on a bench with his legs crossed eating a cake of bread. It was nice to see him acting like a hungry child and not like a man beyond his time.
Assured of his well-being she returned her attention to the priests, feeling inadequate before them.
“I find the need to busy myself,” she said, noticing how the women continued in their preparations.
Ari chuckled. His laugh rolled out of his chest and to her knees, making them weak. “No one has ever accused Mira of having idle hands.”
She answered with a glare. “What is it that I can help with?”
Ishiah laughed. “First, Mira, you must dress.”
Her eyes widened in horror. She had forgotten about her disorderly and wet clothing during their frantic flight, but it was the way Ishiah stared at her hair that caused her the greater shame. “I beg forgiveness,” she whispered with her head bowed.
“Nonsense, child,” he replied. “After your ordeal, your state of disarray is to be expected.” He motioned toward one of the women. “Anna, my wife, will see you properly clothed.”
Anna approached them with a friendly smile and bowed her covered head in greeting. Her richly decorated veil shimmered in the firelight. The delicate woven blue sash around her waist looked as if it was made of the finest threads, and the trim on her tunic had beads tinier than grains of sand. Mira bowed in response.
“My thanks,” Mira said to Ishiah and then followed Anna to one of the outer rooms off the cavern.
Several oil lamps lit their path illuminating drawings depicted in the limestone walls. She gasped at the ornate pictures. Some were simple with lines and circles, but many were...
“They are lovely, are they not?” Anna asked.
“Very much. This place is beyond any words known to my tongue. I’ve lived in this desert all my life and never knew...”
“There are not many who do know the depth of these crags. King David himself, with his soldiers, hid in these very caves when Saul sought to kill him.”
Mira ran the tips of her fingers over the white lines. Had David drawn this very image? Had he written psalms upon these very walls?
“The priests have kept them to themselves. They have used these caves to hide from those who would destroy them. And to carry out God’s will.”
“Much like now?”
Anna lifted a fresh piece of linen from a box. “Here, let us unwrap you.”
Mira shied away knowing her scars were not contained to her hand only, but twisted up her arm and over her shoulder. She did not wish to be rejected or worse, pitied. However, Anna insisted and removed the damp tunic and the under binding from Mira’s chest and replaced it with a dry, fresh, balsam scented cloth before handing her a new loincloth. Not once had the woman reacted or commented on the distasteful scars marring Mira’s flesh.
“You do not fully understand what has occurred. Do not worry overly much. Ariel, he’s never been one for words. It is why he was chosen. But he’ll speak soon enough.”
Anna draped a rich blue-colored tunic over Mira’s head and then tied a gold sash around her waist. The soft linen whispered against her skin, but it was the woman’s observations of Ari that left her shivering.
She had spent several years scorning the man, but that did not mean she didn’t know his gait. The lyrical tone in his voice when he lifted up prayers to the Lord. The gentleness of his hand when he soothed a frightened sheep. The care he took with her father. How he ran a hand through his hair when he was perplexed. But this woman, this woman he had not seen once in the past six years seemed to know him better than she ever could.
“You know him well, then?”
Anna stood in front of her, a delicate blue veil trimmed with gold beads in her hand. The cloth a perfect match to the tunic. She settled it on Mira’s head, her fingers brushing through her hair.
“You are very lovely, child,” Anna said, her eyes glittering with an emotion Mira had only seen in her mother’s eyes. It was a deep love that only a mother could have. But why she looked at her thusly Mira could not fathom.
The moment drew long and Mira grew uncomfortable. She longed to return to Ari’s side. To knead dough. Plough the mountainous terrain. Anything. “My thanks, Anna.”
