Ruth cringed and watched the realization hit Anna’s heart, swift and sharp as an arrow.

CHAPTER 25

A village on the edge of the mountains—33 A.D.

Having arrived at first light, Solomon approached the elder men in the village while the women huddled off to the side, tending to their morning chores.

The men’s talk rose in a clamor as each struggled to lift his voice above the other’s, eager to explain to the gray-eyed visitor what had happened.

“He came at night!”

“We were sleeping!”

“We pounced upon him!”

“He fought like a wildcat!”

“But we got our knives into him!”

“Just before he fled!”

“See here? See his blood?”

Solomon looked down. Beneath their feet appeared a crimson trail that stretched into the wavy sand.

“We would have pursued him, but decided to let the wolves do our work,” one of the men said.

Solomon knelt and pressed his fingertips into the bloody dust. It still felt moist to the touch. He knew then that he could not be far behind. Rising to his feet, he dashed from their sight, tracking the one who had left the jagged path.

As he traveled farther into the barren terrain, Solomon felt a knot tightening in his stomach. For just ahead the vultures had begun circling. Bracing himself for what he might find, he pressed onward, despite the staggering heat.

But just before he arrived at the center of the vultures’ circle, the trail of blood ended abruptly.

Startled, Solomon scoured the ground for any tracks or sign of Judas. After an hour of searching, he found nothing, no footprints or pools of blood. Only the broken strap from his sandal.

If the wolves had attacked, Solomon knew, he would have found his cousin’s clothing—and the goatskin pouch he kept ever on his back.

But if not wolves, what had taken him?

Only one grisly possibility remained—that Judas had been taken by a lion and, too weak to fight, had been carried off to the animal’s lair.

But if so, where were the animal’s tracks?

Perhaps a passing windstorm had erased them?

Exhausted and sensing that a vital part of himself had been lost—Solomon fell to his knees and wept.

CHAPTER 26

Somewhere within The Narrows outside ancient Palestine—33 A.D.

In the hush before dawn, when the air in the caves moved only on the breath of the sleeping, Mother Susana sensed the tight clasp of fingers gripping her neck. She choked and gasped as the bony digits pressed down her windpipe. Her eyes flew open to locate her attacker but she saw no one. The space around her reflected only darkness. Not even the moon spoke that night.