A Lady Under Siege(11)
“You heard my husband’s dying words,” she addressed him. “You heard me tell him that my knowledge of the Good Book is limited. He spoke of Judith. What is her story, and how might it affect me?”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t make too much of such words as issue from a dying man’s mouth, m’Lady,” the priest answered. “In that feverish moment he may not have been in his right mind. Judith’s tale barely merits inclusion in our Bible. A most inappropriate fable, really. Quite unworthy of the Prince of Peace.”
“Still, I wish to hear it,” said Sylvanne.
“So be it. It’s like this, Madame. An Assyrian army, under the great and fearsome general Holofernes, laid a strangulating siege to the Israelites at the walled city of Bethulia. Now within those walls, the widow Judith, a Jewess of great beauty, hatching a plan, shed her widow’s sackcloth, washed her body, anointed her skin with perfume, attended to her lovely hair, put on bracelets and rings, and altogether clothed herself in her finest attire. Thus adorned, she could surely captivate any man who might look upon her. She and her maid, a loyal woman named Abra, snuck out of the city, and presented themselves to Holofernes’s camp.
“Now Holofernes, charmed by her, invited her to sup with him, in the tent that served as his bedchamber. Encouraged by her, he drank a great many cups of wine. He dismissed his servants, leaving himself alone with the beautiful young widow.”
The priest hesitated, for effect, letting the implications of his words sink in.
“Continue,” Sylvanne bade him. “I’m not such a delicate flower as that.”
“Yes, m’Lady. The scripture is not exact as to what transpired between the two. It states only that after some time Holofernes, sodden with wine, lay back upon his bed. He was thus defenseless, and brave Judith took up his sword, unsheathed it from its scabbard, and raising it high, struck him on the neck. She cut off his head! Bone and flesh and gristle, all was severed by her, using his own blade against him. Then she coolly rolled that great general’s head into a sheet, and gave it to loyal Abra to carry away, tucked under her arm. Together they fled from the murderous bed, and hurried through the night, back to the city of Bethulia upon the mountain. In the morning the Assyrians looked to the city, and saw the bloody head of their own supreme leader displayed to them, high upon a long pike above the walls. They fell into panic at the sight. At that moment the gates to the city burst open, and the Jews in their armor poured forth from Bethulia, and smote their confused and trembling enemy.”
The priest fell silent. “There’s no more,” he said at last.
Sylvanne spoke in a solemn whisper. “I fear I’m not so brave, or strong. I’ve never used a sword. I’ve never tried to hurt anyone.”
“The Lord gives strength where needed, m’Lady.”
“Then let him hoard some, and give it all to me in that moment.”
7
Meghan hurried home from her meeting to find Betsy sitting happily at the computer in the upstairs office, exactly as she had left her ninety minutes earlier.
“Did you even move a muscle?”
“No. I’ve been chatting the whole time, with Brittany.”
“Is her mother still psycho?”
“That’s exactly what we’ve been chatting about!” Betsy chirped excitedly. “Did you know her mom smokes pot?”
“No, but I’ll definitely keep that in mind next time a sleepover is discussed.”
“She goes outside to do it.”
“Oh, that makes it okay then,” said Meghan. Betsy looked at her quizzically. “I’m kidding, kiddo. It doesn’t make it okay, but I guess there are worse things in the world.”
The doorbell rang. She went back downstairs to answer it. On the front steps she found Seth, come unannounced, for a quick talk, as he put it. Seth was Meghan’s husband, “my soon-to-be ex-husband,” as she had taken to describing him to friends. Meghan let him in and led him through to the kitchen. “Come have a cup of whatever,” she said.
“You’re being very civil,” said Seth. He was carrying a shopping bag, the paper kind with handles, from a sporting goods store.
“I have to be,” she replied. “Betsy’s upstairs, and likely to come bounding down any minute. I’ve gone to great pains to paint this whole business as amicable, to convince her she’s got two parents who love and care for her, and even, on some level, still care for each other. You’d better be doing the same when she’s with you.”