The Book of Longings(25)

* * *



? ? ?

FOOTSTEPS JARRED THE LADDER, and I turned to see Yaltha’s head pop up like a fishing bob. She was agile enough, but I feared one evening she would topple off into the courtyard. I hurried to offer her my hand, but instead of taking it, she said in a low voice, “Hurry. You must come down. Judas is here.”

“Judas!”

She hushed me and peered into the shadows below. Earlier, one of Antipas’s soldiers, the vicious one, had been positioned close by at the back entrance to the house. “Your brother waits for you at the mikvah,” she whispered. “Take care no one sees you.”

I waited for her to descend, then followed, remembering Father shouting that if Judas were caught, Antipas would execute him.

A thin blue darkness filled the courtyard. I didn’t see the soldier, but he could be anywhere about. I heard Shipra somewhere nearby cleaning the brazier. Overhead, the windows in the upper rooms of the house stared down, narrow and flickering. Yaltha thrust a clay lamp and towel at me. “May the Lord cleanse you and make you pure,” she said loudly for Shipra’s benefit, then disappeared into the house.

I wanted to fly across the courtyard and down the steps to my brother, but I clipped the wings in my feet and walked slowly. I sang aloud the song of purification. As I descended to the mikvah, I heard the heartbeat in the cistern—drip, drip . . . drip, drip. The air in the small underground room felt thick in my throat. Lifting the lamp, I watched a skin of light form on the surface of the pool.

I called in a quiet voice, “Judas.”

“I’m here.”

Turning, I saw him leaning against the wall behind me. The dark, handsome features, his quick smile. I set down the lamp and threw my arms about him. His woolen tunic smelled of sweat and horses. He was different. Thinner, browned, a new smoldering in his eyes.

Unexpectedly, my joy was overtaken by an upwell of anger. “How could you leave me here to fend for myself? Without even saying goodbye.”

“Little sister, you had Yaltha with you. If she’d not been here, I wouldn’t have left you. What I’m doing is larger than either of us. I’m doing this for God. For our people.”

“Father said Antipas will put you to death! His soldiers are looking for you.”

“What can I do, Ana? It’s the fullness of time. The Romans have occupied our land for seventy-seven years. Can’t you see how auspicious that is? Seventy-seven. That’s God’s holiest number, a sign to us the time has come.”

Next he would tell me he was one of the two Messiahs God had promised. Judas had suffered from messianic fever since he was a boy, a condition that rose and fell according to Rome’s brutalities. It afflicted almost everyone in Galilee, though I couldn’t say I was much affected by it. The Messiahs were prophesized—I couldn’t dispute it—but did I really believe a priest Messiah of Aaron and a king Messiah of David would suddenly appear arm in arm and lead an army of angels that would save us from our oppressors and restore the throne to Israel? God could not be swayed to break a mere betrothal, and Judas would have me believe the Lord meant to defeat the might of Rome.

There would be no dissuading my brother, though; I wouldn’t try. I walked to the edge of the pool, where his shadow floated on the water. I stood there, staring at it. Finally I said, “Much has happened since you left. They’ve betrothed me.”

“I know. It’s why I’ve come.”

I couldn’t think how he might’ve learned of my betrothal or why it would bring him here. Whatever the reason, it was important enough for him to risk being caught.

“I came to warn you. Nathaniel ben Hananiah is a devil.”

“You imperiled your life to tell me that? Do you think I don’t know what a devil he is?”

“I don’t think you do. The steward who manages Nathaniel’s date grove is a sympathizer to our cause. He overheard certain things.”

“The steward spies on Nathaniel for you?”

“Listen—I must speak quickly. There’s more to your betrothal than what’s written in the contract. There is one thing Father doesn’t have, and we know it well.”

“He owns no land,” I said.

Most everyone has a private torment, some voracious badger that gnaws at them without ceasing, and this was Father’s. His own father had owned sizable papyrus fields in Egypt, and by law, his brother, Haran, the firstborn, should have received a double portion and he a single, but Haran, the same tormenter who had banished Yaltha to the Therapeutae, had secured a position for Father far away, here in the court of Antipas’s father, King Herod. My father was only eighteen then, too young and trusting to perceive the deceit. In his absence, Haran manipulated the law to take possession of Father’s portion, too. Just as it was with Jacob and Esau, a stolen birthright was the golden badger.

Judas said, “Nathaniel went to him, offering a quarter measure of his estates.”

“In exchange for me?”

He looked down. “No, little sister; marriage to you wasn’t a thought in either of their minds then. Nathaniel wanted a seat of power within the palace and he was willing to give up large portions of his land for it. Already Father has promised him a place on the high council, where he can leverage his power for the rich and keep his tax low. If that isn’t enough, Father has pledged to rent Nathaniel’s storehouses to hold Herod Antipas’s taxes and the Roman tributes collected throughout Galilee. This will make Nathaniel the richest man in Galilee other than Antipas. And in exchange Father gets what he craves—the title that was stolen from him: landowner.”