“Not now—during the wedding. You said you dismissed your workers and depended on us instead.”

“Ah, yes.” Ovadia’s expression relaxed. “Even then I wondered if you would ask. Did it not seem strange to you that the King’s steward, with all the servants at my disposal, was relying on two unknown boys to do my errands?”

“You told us everyone was busy with preparations.”

“Indeed they were—like bees in the hive. But I still saw to the most important details myself, and as you know, I often needed help. I commandeered dozens of slaves and servants, but always kept them at a distance.”

“But why us?” Yonaton asked again.

Ovadia shifted his focus from Yonaton to me. I felt the challenge in his gaze to figure out this puzzle as I had about the bread. Ovadia dismissed his hired workers and relied instead on two country boys, both plucked from serving the prophets. The answer was suddenly clear, as though inked on clean parchment. “We were safe.”

“You were safe.” Ovadia nodded. “From the time of the engagement, the King was constantly on the lookout for anyone who could be disloyal.”

“But you weren’t disloyal then,” Yonaton said, “Were you?”

“No, I have always served my King loyally.”

“Until now.” I grinned.

“Even now.” Ovadia jerked out of his seat and strode to the covered window. “This is the Queen’s war. Her soldiers are after the prophets; the Israelite soldiers haven’t been brought into the hunt. The King is doing his best to ignore the Queen’s attacks, neither helping nor hindering her.”

“But if you’re not disloyal,” Yonaton asked, “Why dismiss your servants?”

“The very innocence of the question is what made you so valuable.”

“Why?”

“I’m known to have relations with the prophets. I’m foreign-born. I’m a natural target.”

“For who?”

“For anyone hoping to advance by setting me up for a fall. It makes no difference whether the accusations are true or not. I directed hundreds of servants, but I never let them get too close and never let them deliver my messages.”

“Then why us?”

“As Lev said, you were safe. Uriel told me neither of you had ever left home until you came to play for the prophets. You knew nothing of what was happening here in Shomron, and you were hardly looking to make names for yourselves in the court.” Dark circles of exhaustion stood out below Ovadia’s eyes in the lamplight. “But that was before. Then I had nothing to hide, and feared only lies.”

“What changed?” Yonaton asked.

“I don’t know. Something happened when the King went to Jericho a week and a half ago. He came back white-faced and silent. He told me nothing, just summoned the Queen to the throne room. Whatever she heard sent her into a rage, and she called in Yambalya. She emerged determined to kill the prophets and their disciples.”

“And no one knows why?” Yonaton asked.

Ovadia shook his head. “The King is keeping his hands clean of the blood of the prophets, but there is someone else he commanded me to find. I expect it is connected to him.”

“Eliyahu,” I said.

“Yes.” Ovadia’s eyes narrowed on me. “How do you know about Eliyahu? Did Uriel have a vision of what happened in Jericho?”

“He didn’t need to. I was there.”

“You were in Jericho?”

“Yes.”

“Then do you know why we’re hunting him? Did he confront the King?”

My face flushed at the memory of Eliyahu’s wrath, and of the King cowering under his fiery gaze. “He did.”

“Over the Baal?”

“Yes.”

“You see Batya, I knew it. The Queen is proud. Eliyahu standing against the King must have prompted her to act before she was ready.”

“Ready for what?” Yonaton asked.

“It was clear at the wedding she intended to draw the people after the Baal—Yambalya wouldn’t have coerced the guests to bow down except on her orders. Her influence has only grown stronger since then. Much stronger. But not enough to strike against the prophets. In her rage, she acted rashly. If we can reach Uriel, the resistance will have the leader it lacks. Under him, the surviving prophets can rouse the people to throw off Izevel’s yoke.”

“And the King’s?” Yonaton asked.

Ovadia shook his head. “The King is more dedicated to the people than he is to the Queen. Even rebuilding Jericho and marrying Izevel were, in his mind, done for them. If the people rise against the Queen, I believe he won’t stand in their way.”

Ovadia studied my face with sharp eyes until I began to shift in my seat. “To think that I brought you into my home because you were some innocent boy who knew nothing of the Kingdom or the court! You’re finding yourself in the middle of too many events for it to all be chance. There is more to you than you are sharing, Lev, more perhaps than you know yourself.”

My hand went to the bulge in my tunic where it covered my father’s knife. Ovadia was correct that I was holding something back. He need not know that I am a kohen, though. It has nothing to do with what we face right now.

Ovadia broke into a sudden smile. “Uriel would never have led the resistance on his own. He would have put off war as long as possible, allowing Izevel to grow stronger and stronger. But now that Eliyahu has forced his hand, he will have to lead us.”

Ovadia stroked his trim beard. “Unless Eliyahu expects to lead—he started this fight. Lev, did it sound to you as though he was planning to lead the people against the Queen? Tell me exactly what he said.”

Blood pulsed in my neck, heating my cheeks. I pronounced his words firmly, with only a trace of the fire that had filled Eliyahu’s voice at Jericho. “As the Holy One, the Lord of Israel, before whom I stand, lives…there will not be dew nor rain during these years except by my word.”

Batya gasped.

Ovadia staggered back against the hearth. “He tried to stop the rains?”

I nodded.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing. Can he do that?”

“According to Master Uriel, the Holy One indeed gave him the Key of Rain. The heavens are sealed until Eliyahu relents.”

“The Holy One gave him the key? That must be why the Queen summoned Yambalya. He would know if Eliyahu spoke the truth—the dark priest is filled with wisdom of their abominations.”

Ovadia’s eyes closed in, tightening his brow. “What you said didn’t sound like prophecy though. It sounded more like an oath. Or…”

“…a curse,” I finished.