Secrets of the Kings Daughter by Renae Weight Mackley

Author:Renae Weight Mackley
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-68047-997-3
Publisher: Covenant Communications, Inc.
Published: 2017-05-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Horses pulling carts, men yelling orders, and hammers pounding log and stone usually prevented Karlinah from sleeping in after sunup as work on the synagogue progressed. But not today; today was the Sabbath, when all heavy work ceased. She lay in bed, approving of this day-of-rest concept Ammon had instigated.

Karlinah knew he would be in the courtyard today, preaching to all who wished to hear. Hepka and Abish had nudged her with chidings of, “Don’t take our word for it—listen to the man. Don’t you want to know for yourself?” She supposed she did but didn’t know if her heart was ready for change or ever would be. She would like to get some answers about how repentance worked—if Japethihah wasn’t around.

He had become a pest lately, like an insect that appeared suddenly to buzz in her ear before disappearing, saying derogatory things about Ammon and telling her she must not work like a servant. In his honey-sweet voice, he had told her, “There are still a few of us who would honor royalty if given the chance. I could treat you as a queen with the pampering you deserve. Think about it, my dear.”

Ammon, on the other hand, had proven himself a friend to her people, and Karlinah supposed she could trust him. So many citizens had found the happiness she yearned to feel. Masoni shouldn’t have made her feel like nothing, but she now realized that his behavior was not the common way.

Karlinah dressed in a long sheath with simple ornamentation. She slipped a bracelet above her elbow—her favorite of hammered gold, polished to a shine—and combed her ebony hair. Not taking the time to plait her long tresses, Karlinah grabbed some strawberries and a piece of leavened bread from the cooking room on her way outside.

The strong voice in the courtyard told her Ammon was already preaching. She moved to a spot at the back where she would be least noticed. More than a hundred listeners encircled him. It reminded her of when Japethihah used to draw a crowd. Karlinah watched Ammon’s face to see if he enjoyed the attention. He seemed different somehow. Were his words smooth like Japethihah’s?

“None of us is perfect,” Ammon said, “even when we try to be good.”

Flattery indeed. At least she didn’t have to be perfect to become a believer.

“This is the beauty of repentance. It makes us clean through the blood of the Lamb of God.”

Blood. Karlinah’s face scrunched up. What’s he talking about that for?

“Christ will sacrifice himself, atoning for our sins with His own blood. An infinite Atonement where . . .”

Karlinah shook her head and blocked out the rest. He’s talking about blood and sacrifice.

She remembered inflicting the final blow to Masoni’s head, backing away as red blood streamed down his forehead and into one eye. She’d run from his bedchamber, dropping the crimson knife she had twisted deeper into his abdomen. Worst of all was scrubbing the sticky blood from her hands—knowing whose it was and what she had done.

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