Herod’s Steward by Hamel Katrina D

Author:Hamel, Katrina D.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Long Walk Publishing
Published: 2023-11-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 32

32 AD

Summer

A slave interrupted the cupbearer. “My lord, a letter arrived for you.”

Chuza turned, his stylus poised over his tablet. The wine cellar was cool and earthy, lit by a single lamp that hung from the low ceiling. Chuza accepted the scroll and squinted at King Aretas’ seal.

“We’ll continue our inventory later,” Chuza said and snapped his tablet closed.

The temperature climbed steadily until he emerged in the Sepphoris palace kitchen. Michael stood on one side of a long table, kneading dough with his large hands. Leah stood opposite him with her sleeves tied at her elbows to reveal her thin arms. She held pots of spices.

“Cardamom,” Michael growled.

Leah tossed her head. “No. Cinnamon. And cloves.”

Michael’s nostrils flared as if she had asked him to serve fried eel to the priests. “What rural housewife taught you that?”

“Good morning,” Chuza said, striding past them.

“Ha!” Michael scoffed. “No morning is good with this untrained girl ruining my kitchen.” But his eyes twinkled and Leah smiled at the burly cook affectionately.

Chuza chuckled as he walked down the long corridor in the servant’s wing of the Sepphoris palace. He let himself into his small office and stepped near the window for better light. Years ago, he had peered through this ornate screen and watched Joanna walk with her mother. So much had changed since then, but Joanna’s problems were still his.

His cheerful mood faded. Somehow, Joanna had found a smile as she walked away from the prison, but her joy faded with the marks on her skin. And he didn’t know how to bring it back.

Chuza broke the seal on the letter, suspecting what it would contain. He was right. King Aretas was frustrated that an envoy still hadn’t arrived. He accused Antipas of offering empty words.

Chuza pressed his lips together. Antipas needed to send someone to Nabatea at once. Agrippa had been Chuza’s first choice, a man of rank and prestige. But Agrippa was in Syria, driven away by Antipas’ derision.

Chuza turned to his desk where a sheet of papyrus gave a detailed inventory of the armor Antipas had ordered. It now filled a huge storeroom in Tiberias—rows of chain mail shirts, bracers, and helmets, plus stacks of spears and short swords. Enough to outfit a thousand men. Enough to make Emperor Tiberius suspicious if he caught word of it.

Chuza’s lips pulled into a frown. His sway over his master was diminishing. Worsened, no doubt, by Chuza’s continual absences. Perhaps now that he lived in Sepphoris, he could exert a greater influence. And his first task was to remind Antipas of his long-held goal of maintaining peace.

Chuza strode for Antipas’ apartment and found it empty. He began to search the principal rooms.

Herodias was entertaining several ladies in the main courtyard. They stood around long tables, tittering as they arranged vases of summer flowers.

Herodias’ smile slid off her face as she noticed Chuza. “What is it, Steward?”

Chuza bowed his head. “I’m looking for my lord.”

Herodias slid another stem into her vase and shot one of her friends an amused glance.

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