Page 14 of Unveiled Tamar’s Story (Mysteries & Wonders of the Bible #1)

V alerius nodded his greeting to the next shift of his men, not objecting when the two who had been on duty with him all night approached their friends and settled in for what looked to be a few minutes of jesting and chatting before the new arrivals took up their positions.

Had it been a more public, higher-risk situation, they wouldn’t have dared to be so informal.

But it was a tomb, and no one was trying to steal the body.

No one would, he was all but certain. He didn’t mind at all if his men indulged in a few minutes of conversation before Caeso and Albus went to find their beds and their three friends settled in for a day of watching birds flit and clouds roll by. Nothing else was likely to happen.

Yet he heard footsteps coming from behind him, which had him wheeling around, hand gripping the shaft of his spear. Then his shoulders relaxed. He recognized the sound of the steps, especially in conjunction with each other. Gaius, Mariana, and the happy, light skip of Livia.

He smiled when he heard Livia skipping off with a laugh, no doubt leaving her mother and Gaius behind, just as she always did.

He hadn’t expected his family to come and find him at the end of his shift—frankly, he was surprised that Claudia had relinquished them so early in the morning.

But he wasn’t surprised, either. Mariana loved to “catch him” at his work, and it wouldn’t have been difficult for them to procure directions to the garden from Pilate.

“Livia?” Mariana’s voice met his ears as he spotted her and Gaius both cresting the hill, emerging from the morning’s mist. He could hear his daughter laughing, though it had an echoing quality.

She must have found one of the empty tombs and decided to explore.

After darting a look over his shoulder to reassure himself that no would-be thieves would be able to approach from the other path, given the knot of soldiers, he strode toward his family.

Mariana ducked into the neighboring tomb, but Gaius had spotted Valerius and approached with a muted morning smile and a lifted hand. “Morning, Master.”

“Good morning.” Valerius stopped beside Gaius. “You all are out early.”

Gaius shrugged. “The lady Claudia awoke early but in better spirits, so when Livia said she wanted to come find you, we were sent on our way.” He motioned to a bag slung over his shoulder. “With breakfast, if you are hungry. And various other gifts, as she so loves to do.”

He chuckled at the truth of that. Yes, Pontius and his wife were in a higher position at this point, but that wasn’t why Claudia showered Mariana and the children with gifts.

It was simply what she loved to do for those she loved.

Rarely did they spend time together that wasn’t punctuated with the gift of a new garment or manuscript or pair of earrings, a toy for each of the children, a treat to eat, or even an exotic bloom or spice she’d discovered in the markets.

The only rule they’d had to impose was that she refrain from sharing any idols—a rule resulting from a rather disastrous exchange six months ago.

Claudia had been so excited to have found a silver statue of Minerva bedecked with jewels—all the more so because she had noticed the lack of idols in their home and thought it an oversight or unwillingness to spend money on them.

It was the first gift Mariana had refused, and it had taken an hour-long explanation filled with tears—Claudia’s—to smooth things over.

Breakfast, on the other hand, was never unwelcome. Valerius stepped closer to Gaius, eyes on the bag. “And what did our friend send for us to eat this morning?”

Gaius chuckled. “Livia is already eating the dried mango she sent. I believe there is also fresh bread, some cheese, smoked meat of some kind, and I do not know what else.”

Valerius was hungry enough after being awake all night to ask Gaius to unload the bag then and there, but before he could suggest a breakfast in the garden—never mind that the garden was filled with tombs—Mariana stepped into view again.

Felix was on her hip, and he clapped and gurgled his excitement upon spotting Valerius.

His wife, however, had a strange look on her face.

He didn’t have words to describe it, except that it wasn’t one he’d seen there before.

Not her usual expression of joy at seeing him after a longer-than-usual absence, not the relief she sometimes wore when it had been a hectic day with the children.

“My love,” she said, voice so very even that it brought him to attention as high emotion wouldn’t have, “could you come here for a moment?” The gaze she flicked past him, toward his men, communicated in a heartbeat that she meant alone .

He nodded, curiosity surging. He’d heard Livia laughing from in there, so nothing alarming could be underway.

But then, their daughter was in that stage where she sometimes decided to do something utterly incomprehensible to the rest of them.

For all he knew, Liv had decided that they ought to eat in the tomb, using the shelf for a table.

Or she could have decided to play Egyptian mummy again and stripped off her clothes so she could better wind her mother’s scarves around herself and pretend she was a pharaoh.

He’d learned that when it came to his imaginative daughter, he ought never to assume anything.

Turning back to his men, he called out, “I will see you later. My family has joined me.” A motion toward Mariana, carrying Felix, was all it took for the soldiers to call out their greetings and nod him on his way.

Though they were on friendly terms with his family, they also respected that Valerius and his wife and children didn’t always want a crowd of soldiers tagging along on their every outing.

When Mariana and the little ones showed up, the men kept their distance unless asked not to.

He’d made it clear this was one of those times for distance. Whatever mischief his daughter was making in that tomb would be kept to their family. Valerius moved along the path toward the unused tomb, Gaius keeping pace half a step behind him.

Mariana moved back into the cave as they drew near, her voice echoing strangely in the space and barely making its way to him. “I promise you, everything will be well. No one will hurt you.”

Valerius’s brows drew together. Who was she talking to? Not Livia—that wasn’t the voice she used with Liv, and their daughter never needed that kind of encouragement. It sounded more like the tone she took with Claudia when the governor’s wife was distressed and Mariana was trying to calm her.

He cast a glance at Gaius. Was this concern, whatever it was, one they’d brought with them? But his manservant shrugged, looking every bit as clueless as Valerius was.

Though dawn spread ever-brighter wings over the landscape, it didn’t stretch beyond the mouth of the cave. He stepped inside, blinking a few times to let his eyes adjust to the dimmer light.

His frown only deepened. Mariana and Livia and Felix weren’t the only ones inside the tomb.

Another woman stood there as well. A Jewish woman, judging from her dress.

She wore a utilitarian tunic in dark brown, the head covering of bold blue and yellow the only splash of color.

She looked as if she was somewhere between him and Mariana in age, and clearly she had been here all night.

She looked as though she’d just woken up, and the shadows under her eyes testified to poor sleep.

He sucked in a breath. The headscarf didn’t match the description the temple guards had given last night, but everything else did.

Dozens of questions flooded his mind—when she’d arrived, how he’d missed her, why his family was now trying to soothe her—but the only one to make it past his lips was, “Are you the weaver? The one blamed for the tearing of the veil? Tamar?”

The woman drew back a step but lifted her chin, fear warring with pride. She reached to tuck a lock of stray hair behind her ear and righted the headscarf while she was at it.

“The what?” Mariana spun from the woman to him, her brows lifted. “What veil?”

“The temple veil. It ripped in the earthquake.” He held out his hands for Felix, who was leaning toward him with enthusiasm, oblivious to anything else.

The woman seemed to relax a degree as he took his son in his arms. Perhaps she assumed that if his hands were occupied with a baby, he couldn’t arrest her.

He let his lips quirk up. He could always call his men to do the arresting if he had any intention of doing so.

But frankly, he felt no inclination to do the priests’ job for them, especially when it could be no crime wrought by a human that resulted in that tearing.

Caiaphas was just looking for someone to blame.

After witnessing the high priest’s last tragic success at that, he wasn’t about to aid in any other unjust punishments.

Mariana’s eyes had gone wide. “The temple veil ripped ?” She turned her confusion back on the stranger. “How could that be? I thought it was thick as a wall.”

“It is.” The woman sighed, her hands falling to her sides. If she had intended to lie to them, she apparently gave up the thought. “And yes. I am Tamar, the head weaver.”

“Lovely to meet you, Tamar.” Mariana sounded genuine as she said it, and she reached out, now that her arms were free, to make a calming gesture. “And please, be at ease. We are no threat to you. Isn’t that right, my love?”

It was more a command than a question, which made his smile grow.

Mariana took hospitality and friendship very seriously.

“Quite right.” He moved his gaze to the weaver.

“I do not know what it means, that the veil tore in two—but I know it could only have been the hand of God that accomplished it. I will not turn you in.”