So To Honor Him by laura_000

Author:laura_000
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-63165-990-4
Publisher: Æclipse Press
Published: 2015-04-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Arash returned to his master late, dry-mouthed and fingers still fumbling with simple tasks like latches. He crept down the corridor and eased into Saman’s room, lit by a single low light.

Saman jerked upright in his bed, his hand falling to something which flashed with reflected lamplight, and then he relaxed. “Arash,” he identified. “Come in, and close that safely behind you.”

Arash obeyed. “I did not mean to startle you, master.”

“That’s all right, Arash. I was not wholly asleep, and I have been not quite at peace here. You saw how the king regarded us.”

Arash now knew exactly Herod’s distrust of the Megistanes. Still, Saman’s weapon surprised him and, in his present state, alarmed him. “You said Herod would not dare to open hostilities with the Parthians.”

“Hostilities? No, he won’t attack our thousand cavalry, certainly. But smother us in our beds? Not impossible. He had his young brother-in-law drowned at a party.” Saman shook his head. “But it is most likely that I fret for nothing.” He looked at Arash, tipping his head to regard him. “What happened? You look — shaken.”

Arash swallowed and tried to steady himself. “No! No, I am fine. And I was able to learn what you wanted.”

“Yes?”

“I was hidden within the king’s audience chambers, where I was able to hear most of the king’s consultation with the priests.”

“Really?” Saman’s eyebrows popped upward. “You show an unexpected talent for this work. Well done indeed, Arash. What did you hear?”

Arash related what had passed between the king and the priests. Saman stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Bet Lahem,” he said. “Never heard of it. Doesn’t sound like I would have had cause to hear of it, from what you say.”

“It’s supposed to be to the south.”

“Well, now we will wait and see how the king chooses to inform us of the priests’ findings,” Saman said. “Whether he sends us to this Bet Lahem, or to some more distant village to buy himself time to address the child first.” He looked again at Arash. “Once more, well done. I never expected you would get so far as to overhear the priests themselves. Herod’s own night-men could not have done better.”

Arash tried unsuccessfully to suppress a grin, unexpectedly pleased at the praise. “Thank you.”

He pushed down the uneasy feeling of treachery. It was Saman who had sent him into danger in asking him to spy, and he deserved the lie of omission. And it was no betrayal, really, for Arash to have answered as he must when questioned by a king.

He made himself take a long, slow breath, wiped his palms on his tunic, and drew out his drum. “Would you like me to play for you now, master?”

Saman frowned. “Arash,” he said, “why is your tunic inside out?”

Arash froze. When they had finally released him, he had bolted, pulling his tunic over his head as he dashed down the corridor. His loincloth was in his bag with his drum; he had not stopped running until he was across the broad courtyard.

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