[When the heroine, Hadassah, was about to be given to the lions in the arena for her faith…]

“My son is alive,” he said in a choked voice.

“God is merciful,” she said softly and lightly touched his hair. 

The light caress reminded Atretes of his mother.  He took Hadassah’s hand and held it against his cheek.  Looking up at her, he saw again the bruises that marked her kind face, the thinness of her body beneath the ragged, dirty tunic.  She had saved his son.  How could he walk away and let her die?

He stood, filled with purpose.  “I’ll go to Sertes [the guard],” he said.

“No,” she said.

“Yes,” he countered, determined.  Though he’d never fought lions and knew there was little chance he would survive, he had to try. 

“A word in the right ear, and I’d be in the arena as your champion.”

“I have a Champion already, Atretes.  The battle is over.  He’s already won…”

“A Voice in the Wind” by Francine Rivers