Song of Redemption (Chronicles of the Kings Book #2) by Lynn Austin

Author:Lynn Austin
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Israel—Kings and rulers—Fiction, Bible. O.T.—History of Biblical events—Fiction, King of Judah—Fiction, Hezekiah
ISBN: 9780764229909
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2005-04-30T12:00:00+00:00

Thousands of stars sparkled in the sky when the stranger shook Jerusha awake. Terror prickled through her veins, and she bolted out of the cart, ready to run. But the man whispered soothingly to her as he yoked the oxen and got the cart ready, and she realized that he was telling her it was time to leave.

The wagon wheels rumbled like thunder on the deserted cobblestone street. Jerusha saw that the city gates stood open, and she silently wept with relief. Neither of them glanced back at the doomed village as they headed south once again. They traveled for an hour before the sun rose, then stopped to rest and to eat some dry bread and parched grain from the cart.

When they started down the road again, Jerusha felt restless and impatient with the oxen’s lethargic pace. She had regained her strength and yearned to run ahead, aware that the Assyrians could quickly overtake the plodding oxen. Yet she was reluctant to leave this man who had saved her, feeling as if she owed him loyalty in return for his kindness. He had not only provided food and rest, but he had been a bridge between the world of the Assyrians and a world of trust and compassion.

Every time they came to the top of a rise, Jerusha glanced anxiously over her shoulder. They were so close to the snow-capped mountain now that the foothills hid it from view. The road climbed steadily upward, and Jerusha got out of the cart and walked to lighten the load. When the sun stood directly overhead and the roadbed burned beneath her bare feet, they reached a crossroad. The man started heading toward the right fork, but Jerusha stopped, seeking her bearings from the sun, scanning the horizon for a glimpse of Mount Hermon.

The stranger halted his oxen and watched her, then tried to convince her to take the right fork with him by pointing and chattering. But his route headed west, toward the setting sun and the Great Sea; Jerusha’s home lay down the other path to the south. ‘

‘Israel?” she asked, indicating the left fork.

He studied her gravely, and she saw his concern for her safety. Finally he nodded. But then he gestured to the way they had come and pleaded with her, jabbering urgently. Tears sprang to Jerusha’s eyes as his compassion overwhelmed her.

“I know they’re coming,” she said. “But I want to go home, to Israel.”

He gazed at her, biting his lip, then he turned and rummaged through his cart. Jerusha panicked, fighting the urge to run as she imagined him brandishing a weapon and forcing her to stay with him. But a moment later he handed her a skin of water and her tattered blanket, filled with food.

Tears flowed silently down her face. She wanted to thank him but didn’t know how. She didn’t even know his name. He mumbled something as he pushed the provisions into her hands, and Jerusha felt the tender stirrings of love for the first time since her baby died.

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