Thrones in the Desert by Peterson Doug

Author:Peterson, Doug
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: O'Shea Books
Published: 2024-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Jeremiel

When Jeremiel opened his eyes to a new day, his dry mouth ached for water. He craved food but had little energy to eat, drink, or even sit up. His soul was bowed down to the dust.

He eventually forced himself to rise, but he resisted examining his forearm for fear that the army of his disease had continued its steady march across his skin. When he shuffled to the lip of the cave, he stared down at the tombstones, but there were no signs of his fellow monsters—the two men who haunted his nights.

Turning his gaze to the main road leading out of Gergesa, he spotted a lone figure making his way toward him up the rough terrain. It was difficult to see who it was, but he prayed it might be Jesus, come to give him a second chance. The Sabbath had long since passed, so he could now accept his healing power. But as the figure neared, his heart sank when he realized it was Nekoda’s brother, Chaim.

“Unclean!” Jeremiel called out. “Unclean!”

He pulled the edge of his tunic over his mouth, but Chaim continued to approach.

“Unclean!” Doesn’t the man have ears to hear?

“Save your breath, Jeremiel. I am coming to you, whether you like it or not.”

Grunting and straining, Chaim climbed the slope leading to Jeremiel’s smoldering campfire in front of the cave. Sweating heavily, Chaim sat on the other side of the circle of rocks where Jeremiel had made his fire the night before.

“Nekoda said you left the city and were out here alone, so I had to see for myself,” Chaim said, catching his breath.

“Didn’t you hear my warning? I said ‘unclean.’”

Chaim laughed. He was worse than Nekoda, never taking things seriously. “What did you do to become unclean? Touch an insect?”

Jeremiel raised the sleeve on his right arm, revealing the white lesions. There were now two.

Chaim’s grin vanished instantly. “Oh.”

“You should go now that you understand the danger.”

Even though he should know better, Chaim just sat there, staring at the lesions. Any sane person would have kept his distance from a leper.

“How did Nekoda know I was here?” Jeremiel asked.

“He keeps watch on many people.”

Jeremiel was not surprised. All good politicians have hired eyes everywhere, and Nekoda was a master politician.

“We were worried about you, so I came to find out why you fled from Capernaum.” Chaim looked around at the desolate surroundings. “I was hoping you went away to pray and fast. But now I understand.”

“If you understand, why do you remain so close to me? Don’t you care about your safety?”

Chaim just shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder.”

“Wonder about what?”

“I wonder why God hasn’t smitten me with something like leprosy—or worse.”

What could be worse than leprosy?

“Why would God smite you?” Jeremiel’s voice ached with genuine compassion. He had a soft spot for Chaim, who did not share his brother’s ambitions.

Chaim stared at the palm of his hand, where dirt lined the creases of his skin, and rubbed away some of the soil.

“I suppose we have all done wrong,” Chaim said, evading Jeremiel’s question.

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