Page 15 of Unveiled Tamar’s Story (Mysteries & Wonders of the Bible #1)

“You will not?” It was her turn to frown as she darted her gaze from Livia, who had woven her little hand through Tamar’s as if they were longtime friends, to Mariana, to him, and then beyond him. “Is it not your duty?”

He lifted a brow. “My duty is to Rome. Not to Caiaphas. I was given no official instruction to look for you, and I have no desire to assist your priests in an unjust arrest. My role in the garden is solely to ensure no one steals the body of Jesus of Nazareth.”

“Oh.” Tamar blinked several times, presumably to let this new vision settle before her eyes and in her mind. A Roman family, yes. A centurion, yes. But not a threat. That must be unexpected. Then she frowned anew. “The Teacher is entombed here? But why would anyone try to steal his body?”

Valerius explained in a few brief sentences, and as he spoke, he motioned Gaius in with his head, the nod toward the bag all the instruction the old man needed. Grinning, he began unloading the food that Claudia had sent with them.

It took only a second for Mariana to catch on. The moment he stopped talking, before Tamar could ask any questions, she said, “I promised Livia we’d eat here in the garden when we found her father. Will you join us? I admit I am famished, but Claudia sent us with far too much food, as always.”

Tamar watched the food being set out with interest, but not too much. She had likely missed her evening meal, but no more than that. She would be hungry but far from starving, and many of the Jews fasted weekly anyway, so she might have been accustomed to skipping meals.

Even so, she had to be hungry—yet she edged away a step, pasted a smile on her lips, and shook her head. “I do thank you, but no. A friend of mine is coming any moment, and I promised her we would eat together.”

Truth? A lie? He wasn’t certain. But something unequivocally true struck him, and he silently cursed himself for not remembering it a moment sooner.

No Jew would eat with Romans. Pagans. Uncircumcised heathen to their way of thinking. Never mind that his family believed in the one true God. She wouldn’t know that and likely wouldn’t care, regardless. They were, to her eyes, unclean. Breaking bread with them would make her unclean.

Frankly, he was a bit surprised she consented to Livia holding her hand.

The rebuff was too familiar to sting him, but his family dealt less frequently with the Jews.

They lived in an area with other Romans, surrounded always by friends who thought them odd for eschewing the gods of Rome but who welcomed them nonetheless.

Perhaps it was foolish to want to protect his family from this truth and to protect the stranger from having to explain it.

If so, then he was a fool, but he nodded and said, “We understand. Your friend will have gone to much trouble to assist you, and you would not want to rebuff her efforts. But perhaps we could leave some food with you to eat later, in case she brings only enough for one meal? Only what you would like.” Some of the meat was, he suspected, pork, so that was out of the question.

But the bread and cheese and dried fruit ought to be acceptable to her.

Perhaps she knew what he was about. Perhaps it confused her, and that was why a furrow creased her brow.

Mariana, who could usually follow his logic like no one else, scowled at him. Livia pouted and wrapped her arms around Tamar’s. “But I want her to share our breakfast, Tata .”

He crouched down, Felix giggling in his ear at the change in altitude. “And that is generous and gracious of you, sweet one. To your credit. But your new friend Tamar has made a promise. And what does the Lord teach us about our promises?”

Her lip stuck out, but she muttered, “Let our yes be yes and our no be no.”

“That is right.” He gave Livia a warm smile and held out an arm.

She pouted one moment more, arms still wrapped around the stranger’s, then let go and hurried forward for the hug she always wanted whenever he arrived home.

Hoisting her onto the hip opposite the one her brother occupied, he stood again.

Tamar’s frown only deepened. “You teach your child the ways of the God of Israel?” Her tone was likely only incredulous, but it sounded nearly accusing. Scoffing.

Mariana’s chin ticked up. “We teach our children the ways of the one true God, who promised that through Abraham all nations of the world would be blessed. The God who inspired the psalmist to charge the people of Israel with proclaiming the Lord’s glory to all peoples.”

Tamar’s face softened, likely from a silent command to herself rather than actual relaxation.

Even so, he appreciated the smile she sent his wife.

“Forgive me for sounding as I did. I am only surprised. But also glad to hear the Lord has stirred your hearts.” She sucked in a breath and turned her gaze back to him.

“And that is why your men asked you for clarification on the veil last night? Because you have been taught in our ways.”

Valerius nodded, trying not to be yet another person frowning as her words answered a question of his.

She’d been in this tomb all night, likely since before he arrived. His gaze flicked to the rear of the chamber, to the darker section that he had suspected led to another room. She must have been hiding in there when he searched the place.

Had he been more thorough, he would have found her.

He would have shouted, because it was what his training told him to do, and his men would have rushed up, and they wouldn’t have given any thought to rousting her from her place and forcing her on her way.

He probably would have assumed she was exactly what Caiaphas feared—part of a group set on stealing away the body of Jesus.

Why else would she be hiding in the neighboring tomb after dark on the Sabbath?

It must have been the Lord’s hand that guided him onward, preserving her secrecy. Which meant that the Lord had wanted her to remain hidden. Protected.

He drew in a deep breath and put Livia back down when she wiggled for her freedom.

He had learned over his years of study that this true God, as true master of all creation, guided His people where He wanted them to go.

Valerius was no expert at listening for His voice.

He was no prophet, no judge of old. But he was certain God had led him to John the Baptizer five years ago and to that sermon of Jesus’s at the start of His ministry, and he was certain now that their paths had crossed with Tamar’s for a reason. To protect her.

He turned to Gaius. “Will you keep an eye out for her friend? And perhaps brace her for what she will find here? I do not want my men to give her a hard time.”

Gaius agreed without any hesitation and ducked out of the cave again.

“It is her family’s tomb,” Tamar said, a bit of defensiveness creeping back into her tone. “She has every right to be here.”

He granted that with a tilt of his head.

“You are absolutely right. However, if my men see her walking toward Jesus’s tomb, they will ask her for more information about why she is here, and then they will ask her why she is visiting an empty tomb on a Sabbath day.

Questions I daresay neither of you would like to have to answer. ”

Tamar’s breath gusted out. “I should simply leave. It is not safe to remain here.”

“Do you have somewhere to go?” Mariana eased closer to her again, face open and bright once more. “We can escort you. Make certain you arrive safely.”

The opening of Tamar’s mouth produced no sound, and then it closed again. She shook her head. “No. Nowhere. I cannot risk putting my family in danger.”

His wife looked as though she would like to cry over the injustice of it. “How horrible for you—and for your family. Do you have a husband? Children who are missing you?”

Though she shook her head, a smile curved Tamar’s lips at the mention of children. “No, I live with my family. My brothers and their wives and children. They will be missing me, but only as their doting aunt.”

Mariana sighed, the sound interrupted by voices from outside. Quiet ones, but enough to pique everyone’s interest. Gaius’s voice he knew, of course. The feminine one who answered him must be Tamar’s friend, because her face lit up when she heard it.

Then, from where he’d left his men, “You there! Your business?”

Gaius laughed. “It is only our business, Master Albus.”

Had it been just any servant dismissing a soldier, it wouldn’t have gone so well. But all his men knew that Valerius trusted Gaius implicitly. In turn, they did too. Albus no doubt waved them on without another thought.

A moment later, Gaius reentered the cave, a young woman with him. She appeared to be perhaps sixteen, dressed simply, with a parcel in her hands that no doubt contained food for Tamar.

The young woman’s eyes went wide when she spotted them. “Tamar? Are you all right?”

Valerius looked back to Tamar in time to see a strange thing happen.

In the blink of an eye, she went from an uncertain and even frightened woman who didn’t know what to make of them to reassuring certainty, shared in the form of a smile and an outstretched hand.

Almost like when Mariana played hostess, but not quite.

It was something more than that. It was, he realized, the fact that Tamar was accustomed to being the one in authority when it came to the younger woman.

She was accustomed to being the one to give support and encouragement and direction, not to receive it.

It slid over her like a garment, banking the fires of worry in her eyes and replacing it with practiced calm.

He already knew she was the head weaver. He would have been willing to wager this newcomer was another weaver in her crew.

“All is well, Bithnia,” Tamar said, her voice soothing and cool. “It seems we have found a few new…friends.”

Bithnia’s expression didn’t exactly relax.

If anything, her frown intensified as her gaze lingered on Valerius’s uniform.

“I did not realize when I brought you here that there would be Romans guarding…” The girl stopped, and her nostrils flared.

“I did not realize they would bring the Rabbi here. Perhaps I should have—I knew Joseph of Arimathea owned the neighboring tomb, that it was unused, and that he follows Jesus.”

Valerius exchanged a glance with Mariana. He knew well that if he spoke to the girl, who had been careful not to lift her gaze above his cloak pin, she would recoil. But his wife might be able to get away with speaking to her.

Mariana shifted closer to Bithnia, her smile compelling and her eyes bright. “Do you perchance know this Joseph was a follower of the Lord because you are?”

He hid his smile in the kiss he pressed to his son’s head.

By calling Him “the Lord” instead of by name or even “the Teacher,” she’d made it clear where she stood, which invited Bithnia to turn a wide-eyed but no longer confounded gaze on her.

In fact, something nearly joyful bubbled up in the young woman’s face. “Are you too?”

Mariana nodded enthusiastically, motioning toward him and Gaius.

“For a while now. My husband heard Him teach nearly three years ago and told me all about what He said. His lessons resonated deep within us. And then, not long before my husband was transferred from Capernaum to Jerusalem, our dear Gaius fell deathly ill.” At the memory, tears flooded her eyes, even as her smile beamed sunshine.

“Valerius sent emissaries to the Lord, to beg Him but to say a word for Gaius. We knew that was all it would take to heal him.”

Bithnia’s expression shifted to one of awe. “I heard a story about that. I did not realize…that was you?” She turned to face Valerius.

Tamar sucked in a breath, clearly surprised that a Jewish maiden would dare to talk to a Roman man directly. She had, but that had been in answer to his questions.

Valerius nodded, feeling again the same emotions that had swamped him when Gaius lay burning up with fever, his breaths so shallow, his form so haggard and wasted. He’d seen such fevers before. He’d known that his friend would die by the next day.

He’d known that Jesus was his only hope, but that he, a sinful Roman, was so very unworthy of hosting the Lord under his roof.

Yet Jesus had had mercy. He had commended his faith.

He had healed Gaius.

Even now, gratitude and amazement overwhelmed him.

“There is much I do not know about the Law and the Prophets, about the one true God. But I stood beneath the cross of my Lord yesterday. I watched the earth tremble as His soul separated from His body. I know that Jesus is the Son of God. I am just not exactly certain what that means.”

Bithnia let out a shuddering breath. “We were waiting for a Savior.”

“Someone to free you from Rome? Another Maccabeus?” The words slipped out before he could think to stop them—words that emerged dry and sardonic. How many times had he heard that refrain?

He could understand it. No people wanted to be under the heel of another. But it was the way humanity worked, it seemed. Someone must rule. Someone must submit. Someone must serve. Someone must be served.

Bithnia’s shrug looked more like confusion than apology.

“Many think so, of course. But one thing I learned following Jesus was that it is not Rome that holds me captive—it is my sinful nature. A free Israel will not make us true children of God. Only a free soul will do that.” Her face fell back into confusion.

“But…now He is gone. I do not know…I do not know what we will do now.”

Mariana stepped closer, reaching out without quite touching Bithnia. “Moses is gone too, is he not? As are Elijah, Elisha, Isaiah. And yet their teachings are no less important. Their words are no less valid. They still point the way to God.”

Love swelled up in his chest, nearly taking him off guard. He knew, of course, that his family had chosen him a wonderful bride. But these last years, as they followed the Teacher, it seemed new wisdom had found her.

He could only pray perhaps she’d have an idea of how to sort out the more pressing issue. They still needed to find a way for Tamar to remain safe while the high priest was trying to blame her for an act of God.