Flame Within, page 17
“I shall do so.” Moriah’s heart felt as if it would take flight, as fast as it beat within her breast.
From somewhere Junias produced a long cord. He took Aidan’s hand and placed it over Moriah’s, then loosely bound them together with the cord. “Be subject one to another, beloved, for we are all one in Christ Jesus. There is neither male nor female, slave nor free, Gentile nor Jew, but all are one in Him. Remember Christ in all you do. Do not forget that each of you has been released from the shackles of bondage and are called out to live holy lives, free from all unrighteousness.”
“We will live for Him,” Aidan said, and Moriah echoed his words.
Junias motioned them both to kneel and placed his hands on their foreheads. He spoke a heartfelt blessing over their union, praying for God’s protection, guidance, and wisdom in all things. When he finished, his eyes glowed with happiness.
“May our Lord God smile upon you and bless your union with many children. I sense in my spirit that the Lord has important plans for you. Do not fear the future, beloved, but trust in God. Adversity will come, but El Elyon, the Most High God, will watch over you and be your rear guard. Confidently rely on Him.”
Junias unbound the cord from their hands and stepped back, indicating an end to the ceremony. His smile was wide. “Go in peace, my children, together as man and wife.”
A cheer went up for the bridal couple. Aidan rose to his feet, pulling Moriah up with him, and Philip clapped him on the shoulder in enthusiastic congratulations. The others offered their blessings, as well. In normal circumstances, feasting and dancing would follow. Still, despite the somber conditions, the brief wedding had brought a smile to everyone’s face.
Later, the others slipped into the main chamber to give the couple some privacy. Moriah turned to the man who was now her husband. With infinite gentleness, Aidan cradled her face, his fingers against her neck as he brushed his thumbs over her jaw. Moriah could only stare; her heart was so full of love for him, so full of awe that her dream at last had been realized.
“My lady. . .” His words were hoarse with emotion.
Moriah smiled tenderly, her own throat clogged with happy tears. “What happened to ‘Moriah’?”
He let out a soft chuckle. “After nine years of addressing you as ‘my lady,’ it may be difficult to assume the habit of calling you by your given name. But I shall try.”
“Please do.”
A grin lifted the corners of his mouth, and he tilted her face upward. “Moriah.”
Tingles raced down her spine. Warmth flooded her from head to toe at the husky way he spoke her name and the gentle kiss he bestowed on her lips.
“Never call me anything else,” she murmured when he lifted his head.
Aidan’s hands moved to her shoulders. “Not ‘Beloved’ or ‘Dear Wife’?” he asked with another smile.
“In that case, I shall make an exception.”
The torchlight flashed on the slave bracelet still covering his upper arm. Moriah’s hands went to it, and she worked to get the jammed catch to unfasten, then threw the despised token to the stone floor with a loud ching.
“No regrets?” His mood turned serious.
Moriah lifted one hand to cradle the side of his strong face. Immediately he covered her hand with his, trapping it.
“Never,” she whispered. “I have loved you from the moment I understood what it meant to be a woman, Aidan. If it were possible, I would have married you then. I need, or want, nothing more than you and God in my life. And one day our child to hold in my arms.”
His eyes shone with tears, and his hands lowered to her waist, drawing her close. “Moriah, my beloved,” he whispered before his lips met hers in a passionate kiss, promising much and sending her head into a whirl.
Another flame began to burn deep within, different from the fire of the Lord’s about which she had so recently told Paulus, but containing its own all-consuming love. The love she would share with this man who was now her husband.
Moriah threaded her fingers through Aidan’s hair, and he drew her closer still.
❧
“My lady,” the child Hannah said from nearby, in what seemed to Aidan an extremely short time later. The girl masked a giggle. “The elder says that the hour has come for you to depart. Darkness has fallen.”
Reluctantly Aidan and Moriah broke their embrace. They stared into one another’s eyes for one more stolen moment before turning their heads to look at the young girl who stood at the entrance.
“Thank you, Hannah. Tell Junias we shall come soon,” Aidan said, giving her a smile.
Hannah hurried away, and Moriah looked back at Aidan. “Now that the time has arrived, I am frightened.”
He took her hand and brought her fingertips to his lips. “You need not fear, Moriah. I have papers of freedom underneath my tunic, and you have your jewels with which to secure passage on a ship or obtain other means of transportation if need be. After all that has happened in Rome, no one will question your desire to leave.”
“But where will we go?”
“I care not, as long as we are far from this city,” Aidan said adamantly. The idea of Moriah in danger sent icy prickles of fear down his back. When she had confronted Paulus earlier and spoken up for Aidan and the others, she had reminded him of an avenging angel, fearless and bold, filling him with awe. She was more courageous than she realized, but he could not allow her to consider staying.
She stepped forward and nestled her head against his chest, putting her arms around his waist. Powerful sensations of love and protection soared through Aidan, and he lifted his hands to her back. He could scarcely believe that she was truly his, that God had blessed him so mightily by giving him the desire of his heart.
“I am thankful I shall always have you to watch over me,” she murmured and again sought his gaze. “But what of the others, Aidan? What if the words Paulus spoke were true? Naoni and little Laniah and Philip and Junias and the others—could they be in danger? I feel guilty leaving them, though I am uncertain how I could help if we did stay.”
Aidan stiffened and tightened his hold around her. “Your time in Rome has ended, Beloved. For us to even consider living in a different part of the city—whatever is left of the city—would be dangerous. Your beauty is extraordinary. It reached the eyes of those on the senate and others, besides.”
She blushed, but he shook his head.
“Though I consider myself a fortunate man, I do not speak the words to flatter but rather to caution. With a countenance and form such as yours, you would be unable to hide yourself for long. Caesar has eyes and ears everywhere and a jealous empress besides. A Roman did not hesitate to turn your father in. Do you think you would be spared when an honored tribune was not? As to our friends. . .” He sighed and again cradled her head to his chest, intertwining his fingers into her thick hair. “I do not know what will happen. I cannot predict the future. All we can do is trust them to God’s protection. We can do no more.”
She sniffed, and Aidan pulled back. His thumb brushed over her cheek to wipe away a tear. “We must not be anxious for anything, Moriah. We need only have faith and trust in God.”
“Yes, my husband. I only wish I had your deep faith.”
He gave her a tender smile. “It will come in time.”
“Aidan! Moriah! Make haste!”
Junias’s deep bass echoed down the narrow passage and into the small chamber. Hearing the urgency in his voice, the two kissed once more, then broke apart.
Moriah’s eyes glistened, but she gave him a shaky smile. “You are right, Aidan. We will trust the Lord to guide us.”
“And He will.” Unable to resist, he bent one final time to kiss his courageous bride before grabbing the torch from the tufa wall.
Epilogue
Moriah basked in the warm ray of sunshine as she sat beside a narrow stream. She lifted her gaze to the majestic trees, so deeply green they appeared almost black. Slivers of pale sunlight pushed their way through leafy boughs. Pungent aromas of freshly watered earth and vegetation tantalized her nostrils. Peculiar birdcalls shattered the air, now familiar to Moriah after almost two years in this remote part of the world, where the empire had not invaded.
Thinking of the city of her birth, she gazed at the glimpse of blue heavens and said a prayer for those in Rome, wishing she knew what had become of them. Each morning she and Aidan held hands and prayed, entrusting their loved ones to God’s care. It was all they could do, but as Aidan often told her, prayer was powerful. And God had blessed her mightily.
A movement next to Moriah caught her eye. Shaking her head in exasperation and laughing, she reached over and grabbed up one of her blessings before he could crawl into the stream sparkling in the light of the sun.
“No, no, Enud,” she cooed, holding him at eye-level.
“Nuh-o, E-ed.” His dark blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he tried to imitate her words. He clutched a handful of his fair-colored ringlets, then moved his hand to grab a thick lock of her dark hair flowing free past her waist.
Children’s shouts from the nearby village brought his head around. Moriah also looked toward the commotion and watched the fair-headed children at play.
After escaping Rome, she and Aidan had traveled north for weeks, both by land and sea, until they reached this remote forest untouched by civilization. Though at first they were regarded with suspicion and contempt, they trusted that God’s eternal flame of love burning within them would span the breach. Aidan built a thatched hut close to the village, but far enough away so as not to incur the people’s wrath. Two months after their arrival, Moriah almost died when her food was laced with a deadly herb. After that, Aidan was determined to take his wife and go elsewhere.
On the night before they were to leave, Moriah again heard heavenly voices lifted in song, seeming to come from the direction of the village—but these voices were nothing like the villagers’ chants. Moriah told Aidan about it, convinced God wanted them to stay. He regarded her in wonder, as he had when she first told him about her initial experience on the night of her conversion, but he took it as a sign to pray for guidance. Aidan, too, was convicted that God wanted them to remain.
Only one week passed before Aidan came close to losing his life to save a young boy from a wild boar. Afterward, some of the villagers slowly came to accept Aidan and Moriah. Once the language barrier was breached, they listened while Aidan powerfully told of the one true God who sacrificed His Son to save all people. Still, they didn’t believe. Yet, after seeing evidence of God’s love displayed through Aidan and Moriah in countless ways, several questioned. None had turned from their pagan roots, but Moriah sensed a difference in two of the young women when she spoke to them of Jesus and felt the time was near for their salvation. The thought filled her with joy.
“This was my destiny, was it not, Lord?” she whispered. “To be a helpmate to Aidan and to aid him in bringing the gospel to a people who never heard of You.” They still had their trials and sorrows, but God carried them through each one, and Moriah’s faith grew stronger with each situation.
The crunch of footsteps brought her head around. She smiled at Aidan, who sank to the ground beside her for a well-deserved rest. Enud’s plump hands swung out to his father. Aidan reached for the boy and rubbed his bearded face on the child’s bare tummy. Enud squealed gleefully.
Moriah regarded the two in mock frustration. “You surely will spoil him, Aidan, as you have me.” She tried to say the words sternly, though she couldn’t keep from smiling.
His brows winged upward. “Spoil him, my lady?” he teased while reaching for her with his other arm and drawing her down to lie beside him on the mossy earth.
Moriah laughingly protested but chose to snuggle closer, resting her head on his shoulder. With his father’s large hand protectively on his back, Enud happily claimed his spot sprawled on Aidan’s glistening chest and slapped the bronzed skin with one baby palm. Aidan chuckled, and Enud squealed at the reverberations this made.
“If loving can spoil him—or you—I can think of a worse fate to be had.” A gleam lit the deep blue of Aidan’s eyes as he took his focus off their son and turned his head her way. “Would you honestly have me cease loving either of you as strongly as I do, Moriah?” His hand moved to her bulging belly and slowly rubbed a circle on the soft hide of her dress. “Or the child you now carry? It is not much, but love is all I have to offer.”
Though his words were light, there was a hint of seriousness to them, as though he truly sought her feelings on the matter.
Moriah sensed he sometimes feared that she yearned for her former life of wealth in place of the meager existence they now shared. In the beginning, it had been difficult to grow accustomed to this vastly different mode of living without any of the luxuries she once took for granted. To serve rather than be served. Yet, with Aidan’s patient help, Moriah had learned what she needed to know to survive in such a world. And she would not trade her life with Aidan and being the mother of his children for all the gold in Rome.
“Your love is all I desire, my husband,” she breathed, laying her hand against his side. “Never think otherwise.”
She leaned up on one hand and bent over, lowering her face to his. With her kiss, she showed him just how much she treasured the priceless gift of his love and returned that same gift. Gladness filled her heart, and Moriah was grateful she belonged—to Aidan, to her children, and to God.
About the Author
Pamela Griffin lives in Texas and divides her time among family, church activities, and writing. She fully gave her life to the Lord in 1988 after a rebellious young adulthood and owes the fact that she’s still alive today to an all-loving and forgiving God and to a mother who earnestly prayed that her wayward daughter would come “home.” Pamela’s main goal in writing Christian romance is to encourage others with entertaining stories that also heal the wounded spirit. Please visit Pamela’s website at: http://members.cowtown.net/PamelaGriffin/
Dedication
Thank you to my faithful friends and critique partners—both past and present—for your encouragement and willingness to help me on this project. To my precious sons, Brandon Christopher and Joshua Aaron, I pray that no evil will ensnare you, that you shall endure to the end, and that you’ll always know, without any doubt, that God is real.
As always, I dedicate this book to my loving Deliverer, my Rock and my Fortress, my God, El Elyon, who hides me under the shadow of His wings, so that no destruction shall befall me.
A note from the author:
I love to hear from my readers! You may correspond with me by writing:
Pamela Griffin
Author Relations
PO Box 719
Uhrichsville, OH 44683
Pamela Griffin, Flame Within
