Jezebel

Part One: 4

Jireh's walk to the palace had been a frightful one. Every time he rushed past a dark corner, it was as though shadows were reaching out, attempting to snatch him from his reprieve and hurl him into the darkness once more. When he'd finally made it to Obadiah's door, he was a shuddering, sweaty mess. He knocked three times, looking around warily as he did so.

When Jireh had stepped into the palace grounds earlier, he had sensed a presence frighteningly similar to Signa's. At a point he had been certain the demon would materialise before him, black smoke swelling and red eyes blazing.

Jireh shivered and glanced about.

There was a part of him that wanted to flee Samaria and hide in the wilderness all his days--completely shun human interaction. But he knew running was futile. Signa loved the thrill of pursuit. He would come after him and end his existence. His uncle was his only salvation.

When Jireh lifted his knuckle to knock once more, the door swung open. Obadiah stepped out, the iron chain of an oil lamp swinging from a fist. He took in Jireh's appearance from head to toes, a look of mild surprise in his eyes.

"Nephew, what are you doing here? This better be important. Rebecca is not feeling well and she's sleepi--"

"Can I come in?" Jireh looked about again before turning to his uncle.

Obadiah observed him for a moment then stepped aside. "Come in. But if this is about one of your creditors or those detestable practices, I would have to send you--"

"I gave it up." The words came in a rush. He paced about the spacious living area of his uncle's quarters. The place smelled of basil and mint. King Ahab obviously treated him well.

"You gave what up?" Obadiah placed the lamp on a shelf and folded his hands. He appeared stern, his rough beard and deep-set eyes only served in intensifying the look.

Jireh walked to his uncle. He held each hand in a praying stance, inclining his head to the side. "I--" He shut his eyes as he struggled to come about the right words. "T-they are coming for me. I would not be able to survive if they find me."

"So this is about your creditors. I am sorry," Obadiah walked to the door with the clear intention to kick him out, "I cannot help you with money again."

"No, no, no. You are not listening." Jireh's voice trembled as he opened his eyes. His uncle's presence managed to keep the darkness at bay.

"I've paid your debts over fourteen times."

"You've been counting?" Jireh momentarily forgot his pleading and stared at his uncle in disbelief.

"Of course I was counting." The man sighed before his shoulders drooped. "See, I know I promised my sister to take care of you, but you are like a thorn at my side. It's almost as if the Lord desires to punish me with your existence. The worst was the black magic. You took the money I gave you to clear your debt to purchase foreign parchments. And the Brotherhood of Dahw... those menaces! Your foolishness is your curse. Tell me, how far did all that take you?"

Jireh hung his head. His uncle was correct. He knew he had the penchant of being too curious and his curiosity, in turn, led him to terrible circumstances. But he was so sorry. The fear of what was coming; the thought of actually dying in the hands of Signa pushed him to desperation. He was determined to escape. "I paid off my debt."

Obadiah frowned. "How?"

"I-I've been offering my services." He stole a glance and nearly wept at the pained look on his uncle's face.

"Your mother raised you better. How you came about pursuing foreign gods... you know you assisted the people in going astray?"

"Yes."