Estelle and Robert: To Know Him

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 34 (v.1) - Happy Birthday!

Submitted: July 30, 2019

Reads: 10

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Submitted: July 30, 2019

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It was a sweet relief. The first time Herod in his life had ever felt relief on his birthday. Not because he had another year given him, but because it gave a welcome distraction from the gnawing memory that crawled under his skin. Herodias' nagging grudge. John had gone too far. Judgmental. Intolerant. Who was he to speak against them? Who was he to put his nose where it didn't belong? Who was he to call their little love nest... sin?

He peered around at the throng gathered to celebrate with him, his lords, high captains, and chief estates of Galilee; watching with pleasure as guffaw after guffaw of laughter fell short when his daughter came out. She was a pretty little thing, and held captive her audience, dancing before them. Well pleasing.

"Namid," Herod leaned back, drawing out her name, thrusting his arm about him, gesturing to the people who approved, "You have done well! What would you like as a reward? You shall have it, upon my oath

"Namid," Herod leaned back, drawing out her name, thrusting his arm about him, gesturing to the people who approved, "You have done well! What would you like as a reward? You shall have it, upon my oath. Even unto half my Kingdom."

Namid cocked her head. Silly Herod. She already had him twisted around her little finger. She had everything she could ever dream of. Commoners she noted gave her envious stares. She had it all. Fame. Fortune. Riches. Anything and everything at her beck and call. "If it pleases you, let me think about it, and I will return and declare it unto you," she turned on her heel, prancing away in her frilly dress towards her mother, not at all disturbed by the twisted look upon her face.

"Namid, darling," Herodias pet the girl's hair, leaning into her ear, her lips dripping with evil, unblinked at.

"Namid, darling," Herodias pet the girl's hair, leaning into her ear, her lips dripping with evil, unblinked at

Herod set down his goblet of wine, leaning forward as the slender girl re-entered."Give me here John Baptist's head on a platter!" Namid didn't flush, her voice was as calm and still as ever.

A speckle of gasps that were quickly coughed over to hide the shock was all that was heard in the few moments stillness. Herod had promised. He would not go back on his word, especially now that he had such an audience.

"Done." And he sent and beheaded John in the prison.

And his head was brought in a charger, and given to the damsel: and she brought it to her mother.

And his head was brought in a charger, and given to the damsel: and she brought it to her mother

News traveled quickly. John's disciples not waiting to grieve after burying the body of their friend before they sent word of it to Jesus. He was, after all, John's cousin.

When Jesus had heard the news, He turned to His disciples, "Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place, and rest a while." Many were coming and going, and to find the time just to sit and eat was rare.

But when the multitudes had heard of it they followed Him on foot into a desert place

But when the multitudes had heard of it they followed Him on foot into a desert place. He swallowed the lump inside His throat. Death was a terrible thing. Lazarus He'd raised, Lazarus was His. John the first person in his family to die. Pain wreaked havoc on His humanity. The multitudes had likely not heard of the death, or if they had, weren't about to give Him time to grieve.

Wearily, He lifted His eyes as the people closed in. Compassion reigned, He moving amongst them, healing those that were sick.

 


© Copyright 2019 Jessica Goyette. All rights reserved.

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