Harvest of Gold by Tessa Afshar Page B

Nehemiah’s forehead. He clasped his hands together in order to hide their trembling. Intense fear made his heart race. This was the moment he had prayed for. The king had given him the opening he needed in order to make his request. Nehemiah knew that the king might be offended by what he was about to ask. After all, Artaxerxes’ own life was in danger from an unknown assassin; why should he care about a cupbearer’s troubles? Nehemiah might lose the favor of the monarch forever without gaining an advantage for Jerusalem.
    “Long live the king!” he said, through dry lips, and plunged ahead. “You are right to say that I am sad, Your Majesty. How could I be anything else when the city of my ancestors lies in ruins?”
    Artaxerxes leaned forward on his couch. “I see. Is it about Jerusalem that you speak? What do you want me to do, cupbearer?”
    Nehemiah took a moment to send a lightning prayer to the Lord of heaven. After the months of wearing himself out with his supplications, he still felt unprepared for this conversation. “If it please the king, and if I have found favor with Your Majesty, please send me to Judah so that I can rebuild the city where my fathers are buried.”
    The queen raised a delicate eyebrow. “You wish to leave us, Nehemiah?”
    “Leave you? No, my lady. I only want to go for a short while to help rebuild Jerusalem.”
    Artaxerxes heaved a sigh. “How long will you be gone? When do you plan to return to us?”
    “As soon as the walls are completed and a semblance of order and safety is restored to the city, I shall return. I hope it will not take me overlong.”
    Artaxerxes seemed to consider Nehemiah’s words. With a sharp movement, he leaned back. “Jerusalem is in the satrapy of Beyond the River, isn’t it? How far is that from Damascus?”
    “The whole province of Judah is located Beyond the River, sire, or as your scholars call it, the Trans-Euphrates. I am not certain of the distance from Damascus. But it cannot be far.”
    “Perhaps there is wisdom in sending you to the land of your forefathers. I do not wish for any part of my kingdom to crumble from neglect. What do you need for this journey?”
    Nehemiah took a deep breath. An exuberant sense of hope filled him as he realized that the king had not only granted him permission to go to Jerusalem, but was also open to helping him.
    “If it please the king, may I have letters addressed to the governors from Beyond the River? Our convoy will have to travel through their provinces to get to Judah, and a word from you would make our journey safe.”
    Artaxerxes signaled for his personal scribe; the man, a reedy-looking eunuch, rushed forward and began to work on the letters immediately.
    “You must need some provisions, surely,” Damaspia said.
    Nehemiah turned to her, bestowing a grateful smile in her direction. “Indeed, Your Majesty. A work of construction of this magnitude will need extra lumber. If it please the king, may I have a letter to Asaph, the manager of the royal forests, instructing him to give me timber? We need beams for the gates of the Temple fortress, for the city walls, and for a house where I can reside.”
    Artaxerxes did not demur. With a royal nod, he set his eunuch to write a letter to Asaph. Overwhelmed by the king’s generous consent to every request, Nehemiah felt relief flood through his limbs. The gracious hand of God is on me , he thought. He has opened this door . A new strength filled him as soon as his mind grasped hold of this realization. No matter how hard the journey ahead might prove, he knew now that it was the will of God. The Lord had called Nehemiah, and He would provide for him.
    “You cannot go as a cupbearer, Nehemiah. You would have no authority for governance.”
    “Your Majesty?”
    “You need a new title. I am making you governor of Judah until you return.”
    Nehemiah bowed, overwhelmed. “The king’s generosity knows no bounds.”
    “Don’t be foolish. It’s a