Land Of Silence Part 16

She seems very smitten with him. I pray she will make him a good wife.

I pray he will be happy. More than any man I know, he deserves that. My throat ached. My head ached. My soul ached.

I brought something for your father. But perhaps you can use it more. He gave me a thick sheaf of rolled-up vellum. Various readings from the Law and the Prophets. I had thought it might cheer and guide him in his sickness. But I suspect he is well past that. I pray the words in these pages shall bring you comfort.

You are giving the Scriptures to a woman?

He slapped his thick fingers against his knees and rose. I think in this case, G.o.d would not disapprove.

After he left, I thought of Master Gamaliels words to me: In the place of your father, I would have done my best to help you. I had no father to help me. To protect me. To provide for me. To give me guidance. I had no father because he lay unconscious and sick. But in truth, long before his accident, I had lost my father. I had lost him one sunny day on a hilltop, when I had failed to care for my brother. At the core of my lifes troubles lay this wound. I was fatherless.

Master Gamaliels scroll was written in Koine Greek, not Hebrew. After having been enslaved in Babylon for more than a generation, many of our people had forgotten their native tongue. We spoke Aramaic and understood Greek. But Hebrew had been lost to the average Judean. I could not read it and only had a cursory understanding.

The Greek tongue came easy to me, however, and I began to read Gamaliels scroll with a pa.s.sion I had never known for G.o.ds Word. For the first time, the Scriptures began to resonate in my soul not merely as a set of rules I had to obey, but also as an impartation of comfort.

You who have made me see many troubles and calamities will revive me again; from the depths of the earth you will bring me up again.

You will increase my greatness and comfort me again.

Would the G.o.d who had allowed so much calamity and trouble to be heaped upon me truly comfort and revive me? A tiny ember of hope kindled within me.

Until then, I had a form of religiosity based entirely on performance and lacking any heart. I was fully aware of the deficiencies in my life. I had sinned in countless ways. My own father never forgave me. What was the point of trying to draw near to G.o.d? Who wants to approach a G.o.d who will only remind you of what a failure you are? Who wants to draw near to the voice of disapproval and condemnation? I had run as far from him as I could since Josephs death.

Now, as I read the Scriptures that Gamaliel had brought me, I began to realize that there was more to G.o.d than an angry judge. I could not fully accept that his love extended to me, but I began to hunger for more of him. Aspire that he might one day forgive me and restore me. Caring for my family wasnt enough to satisfy me. The work to which I had once devoted myself had disappointed me in the end. I came to realize that the G.o.d I found in the Scriptures might be my only source of comfort. I read his Word voraciously and clung to that spark of promise.

TWENTY.

O G.o.d, save me by your name, and vindicate me by your might.

O G.o.d, hear my prayer; give ear to the words of my mouth.

PSALM 54:1-2.

DROUGHT CRIPPLED JERUSALEM that summer. The winter rains had proven stingy, and the waters of the Gihon, the spring east of Jerusalem that bestowed its bounty upon us, banked low. All the pools in Jerusalem, including the upper pool, the lower pool, the old pool, and the Kings Pool, which had been channeled into the spring of Gihon, were at a low ebb. Lack of water was always a real threat in Palestine. It made our people restless. We were too aware that our lives hung in the balance when our springs and rivers began to dry up.

Roman oppression, despite its severity and injustice, did bring us a few advantages. Besides better trade and improved roads, they offered us their aqueducts and built us larger, more efficient pools. G.o.dless and cruel they might be, but no one could deny they were exceptional engineers. We were grateful that the rectangular pool of Siloam, with its dazzling architecture and elegant columns, was large enough to supply many of Jerusalems residents with water, even during a season of drought.

Our workshop depended upon generous supplies of water in order to function. Dyeing fabrics often required several thorough was.h.i.+ngs. I had to pay a bribe more than once in order to provide for our needs. I was beginning to understand that running a business came with a constant stream of problems. Trouble was not an oddity or exception. The life of a merchant was pervaded with unforeseen challenges as a matter of routine. Only those who could meet the demands of new problems on a daily basis could survive in trade. Good planning helped. But life came with too many surprises for even the best of plans to foresee. I was kept busy from morning to night, trying to keep our business afloat.

One afternoon Viriato arrived with Claudia and t.i.tus in tow. I have not seen you in over two months, you truant friend, Claudia said. What have you been doing with yourself?

Forgive me, Claudia. I rolled back the vellum I was studying. I have been sorely remiss. And t.i.tus! How wonderful of you to visit as well.

Visit, nothing. I need a new wardrobe. I have been summoned to Rome.

No! Are you finally to be given a position worthy of your talents?

Or have my head chopped off. Who can tell with Seja.n.u.s at the helm? Either way, I aim to go looking my best. They shall not accuse me of having turned into a country b.u.mpkin during my absence from Rome.

I surveyed his elegantly clad figure. That would be an impossibility. Is Claudia coming with you?

Claudia cried, Yes, while t.i.tus very emphatically declared, No at the same time. I looked from one to the other and swallowed a smile. I see the matter is still being negotiated. Viriato, shall we start a wager? What odds do you give Claudia?

t.i.tus groaned. Please, Elianna. Do not encourage the woman. It is simply too dangerous for her in Rome. If good news greets me, I will send for her. If an ill reception awaits me, I want her out of the way of danger.

If there is any danger to you, my love, I would all the more be at your side. Claudia removed a stack of papyri from the desk and daintily sat against the edge. She tried to look at ease and lighthearted, but I noticed the tracks of dried tears against the pallor of her face. t.i.tus, too, when I observed him more carefully, seemed tense and apprehensive beneath his normal smile. The trip to Rome alarmed them both more than they wished to reveal. I frowned, worried for their safety.

Tell me, Viriato, shall you lay odds on my husband or on me? Claudia said.

Viriato shook his head. Neither, mistress. I am not a betting man. I work too hard for my money. Besides, no matter which one of you I choose, one of you will be offended by me. Those are not good odds.

t.i.tus and Claudia laughed. Claudia picked up Gamaliels gift, which I had just set aside. Are you still working on those troublesome accounts, Elianna?

The only accounting recorded in that book concerns the one we will one day have to give to G.o.d. Those are some of our Scriptures.

She placed the roll back next to me with haste. I beg your pardon. I meant no disrespect.

Would you like to hear some of the words I have been studying lately?

Is there anything in there about disobedient wives? t.i.tus asked. If so, I should like to hear what punishment your G.o.d accords to them.

Claudia sniffed. I am more interested in what it says about disobliging husbands.

Perhaps we can leave husbands and wives to a later date. I had just finished reading this psalm when you arrived. It was written by our greatest king, David. He wrote it when he was still a young man, before he became a powerful monarch. As a warrior, he had saved Israel from great danger and had grown popular with the people because of it. He was talented and handsome, champion and poet and musician rolled in one. G.o.d had blessed David.

At that time, the king over Israel was a man named Saul. Saul grew jealous of David until he could no longer bear the anguish of his envy and set out to destroy the young man who had become his rival. This psalm is not merely a poem. It is a prayer. A prayer that has lasted over a thousand years. As long as men like you, t.i.tus, are being pursued unjustly by powerful, despotic rulers, the prayers of David breathe life and power into our hearts. Listen. Here is what he said to the Lord: O G.o.d, save me by your name, and vindicate me by your might.

O G.o.d, hear my prayer; give ear to the words of my mouth.

For strangers have risen against me; ruthless men seek my life; They do not set G.o.d before themselves.

Behold, G.o.d is my helper; the Lord is the upholder of my life . . .

I will give thanks to your name, O Lord, for it is good.

For he has delivered me from every trouble.

Did your G.o.d save David from his enemies? t.i.tus asked.

That he did. Once, David had the opportunity to kill Saul stealthily. But he refused to raise his hand against the Lords anointed. He would not become wicked in order to destroy wickedness. He trusted G.o.d to protect him. To vindicate his reputation and his life. And G.o.d did so. Saul died in a terrible battle. He paid for his sins in the end, as we all shall, no doubt. As Seja.n.u.s will one day. David, now"he ascended the throne of Israel and lived to be an old man and became a father to many sons.

I like this G.o.d of yours. He seems less mercurial than the ones we have in our pantheon. Too bad he will have no interest in helping a Roman.

I shrugged. Who knows the mind of G.o.d? You remember the great Persian king, Cyrus?

Of course. We had to study many of his battle strategies when I was a boy at school. Was he a follower of the Lord?

I grinned. No more than you, I should imagine. Just before Cyrus rose to power and eminence, one of our prophets by the name of Isaiah spoke a prophecy about him, promising him G.o.ds help.

I am the Lord, and there is no other, besides me there is no G.o.d; I equip you, though you do not know me.

G.o.d vowed to give him victory, you see, t.i.tus. Although Cyrus did not know the Lord, G.o.d pledged to go before him and level the ground that he might be triumphant, for he would one day help our people. Perhaps the Lord will do the same for you.

I could not understand my own actions. Why speak of the Lord to Romans when I barely spoke to him myself? I realized that I had come to believe in the mercy of G.o.d, believe it for Romans even, though I still could not grasp it for myself. I loved Claudia and t.i.tus in spite of their dreadful heritage. I cared not that they were Roman. I wished them to have the salvation of our G.o.d and the help of his hand. I wanted them safe from the murderous ploys of their enemy, Seja.n.u.s. Who was greater than the greatest man in Rome? Only the Lord.

Why does your G.o.d insist that there is no other G.o.d? Even Jupiter for all his power acknowledges the existence of other G.o.ds. Claudia played with the stem of a fig. He sounds very limiting. It has to be him alone, to the exclusion of all others. Why should I give up Juno and Apollo and Venus if I want to pray to your G.o.d? Why cant I have them all?

Why have you forsaken all other men in order to be with t.i.tus? Because he is your husband, and your heart and your body belong to him. You need no other man. He loves you, and he alone fulfills your needs. It is the same with the Lord, only more so, for he is a thousand times more loving, more protective, more glorious, more powerful than your wonderful husband. He would not put up with you chasing after other G.o.ds any more than t.i.tus would accept you taking lovers.

t.i.tus threw his head back and laughed. Well, that puts you in your place, my love. I begin to understand this G.o.d a little better, I think. He played with the leather strap of his belt. Would he receive an offering from me, do you think, Elianna? A libation in his honor? Perhaps it would soften his heart toward my cause.

I scratched my forehead. I am no teacher of the Law. But as I recall, one of our greatest prophets, Samuel, once said that to obey is better than sacrifice. Why do you not pray and ask him for his help? Instead of an offering, you can promise him your heart. Your obedience.

Viriato, who had been silent until then, chortled. She is as bad as Ethan. He is forever trying to convert me into a Jew. Even Sarai says he is turning into a priest.

I stiffened at the mention of Sarai. By tacit agreement no one in the house ever spoke the name of Ethan, never mind Sarai, who was utterly taboo. Viriato turned red. I beg your pardon, mistress. I did not mean"

Peace, Viriato. Its of no matter. I shall have to grow used to hearing her name.

Claudia wrapped her long arms around my waist. She did not know why I had broken my betrothal. I suppose she could see for herself that I was haunted by misery over it, whatever the cause.

I tapped her arm in a gesture of affection and walked out of her embrace. Shall we look at some fabrics for you, Lord t.i.tus? I have several lengths that will make Seja.n.u.s green with envy.

The day of Ethans wedding dawned thick with clouds, though it never rained. The sky remained gray and unyielding.

I could not work. I could not eat. I could not focus. For the first time since Josephs death, I walked to the hilltop where the bee had stung him. I sat on the dry gra.s.s, remembering the horror of that day. At least Ethan lived. He had been spared the suffering of slavery and death. I had done that much for him. He had the chance for a new life. For hope and joy and a future.

But what of me? What would become of me? I could see no future for me. I would never be married. Never have children. Never really belong to anyone. All the success in the world could not alter that fact. I could create the most elegant fabrics the world had ever seen, save my fathers business from ruin again and again, gain a reputation for excellence unequaled in all of Jerusalem. It still would make no difference to the lonely ache in my heart. I felt rejected and abandoned, marooned in a world that barely saw me. A great wave of self-pity washed over me.

An urgent cry roused me out of my melancholy musings. Mistress Elianna! Come! You are needed at home. Come right away!

Alarmed, I sprang to my feet. What has happened, Joel?

Your father, mistress. He shook his head.

Once again, I ran down that hill, shoeless and panicked, burdened by approaching death.

I knelt by my fathers side, listening to his slow, tortured breathing, while my mother wept and beat at her breast. I prayed with all my strength that he would open his eyes, look upon me, and call me daughter again. I felt that if he acknowledged me just once as his, his own daughter, his own child, then I could bear anything. I could bear the emptiness of my life, knowing he had forgiven me in the end. Knowing he had claimed me and I belonged to him again.

He died without saying a word.

He slipped out of our lives with one final shallow breath. Gamaliel had arrived by then and prayed for him as he lay dying. He would be unclean for seven days now, having touched the dead, and would have to go through the painstaking process of purification with the ashes of a red heifer before he could return to his duties. Not many members of the Sanhedrin would be willing to bear so much inconvenience for the sake of a boyhood friend.

We laid my father to rest next to Josephs bones. They would be together now, I hoped. My fathers grief had finally ended. Mine was just about to be multiplied.

TWENTY-ONE.

A mans spirit will endure sickness, but a crushed spirit who can bear?

PROVERBS 18:14.

WITH MY FATHER GONE, I could no longer pretend to work under his direction. There may be places in the Roman Empire where an unmarried woman could be the acceptable head of a business. Jerusalem was not amongst them. The workshop would have to be sold. For four generations, my fathers family had maintained this trade and made a success of it. I was the one who lost it. In the end, I failed the unspoken expectation of those generations. Without my father, I could not save their hard-won achievements.

My fathers health had been fragile. He had held on to life by a thread as thin as spider silk. But the shadow of his presence had been enough to allow me to continue in trade. Now that he was gone, I could devise no way of managing our workshop without the illusion of his authority behind me.

As long as I had had Ethan behind me, I knew that even if we lost my father, I could continue with Ethans help. As his wife, I would have had even more freedom than I had had as an unmarried daughter. The day I broke off my betrothal to Ethan, I knew that I would lose the family business as well as my dream of marriage to the man I loved.

A part of me had already prepared to let go of the workshop. For many weeks, my heart had grown disengaged from the work that had once been my hiding place. But losing it was still a blow.

I felt responsible for the men and women who had labored in our workshop over the years. I wanted to ensure that our workers would continue to be cared for, to have employment if possible. I could not sell the business to just anyone. I had to be sure the new owner would care for our people.

I asked Viriato to speak to Master Ezer. I knew Ethans father might refuse me; he had every reason to hold me in contempt. But I had no other recourse. He knew everyone connected to our trade. He would be able to find us the right buyer. For the sake of his friends.h.i.+p with my father, I told Viriato, tell him to help us.

Of course the house had to be sold with the business. It sat on the same parcel of land. Such a purchase required a large outlay of cash. I worried that we would not be able to find a buyer, for as I had come to learn from personal experience, merchants rarely had this much coin to spare. I knew I would have to accept any offer, even if it proved unreasonably low. Without the income from the workshop, I could maintain neither the cost of the taxes nor the upkeep of our many servants.

Master Ezer sent his response a mere three days after receiving my plea for help. He says he has found a buyer for you, Viriato said.

Who is it?

That, he will not say. Apparently the buyer wishes to remain anonymous.

Why? For what purpose?

Viriato shrugged. Master Ezer said to tell you that he can be trusted.

It went against the grain, giving up our inheritance into unknown hands. In the end, what choice had we? I signed the contracts and received an unexpectedly large sum of money for my pains. More than fair. Astonished, I wrote Master Ezer a letter of thanks.

My mother grieved more over the loss of her home than the death of her husband. She had said her good-bye to him bit by bit, at his sickbed. She had grown accustomed to his loss over the long months. But she was not prepared for the loss of her house.

We planned to move to Tiberias so that we could be near Joanna. It was the one bright spot of my life, the knowledge that I would be able to see my sister again so soon.

I found my mother packing a trunk the next morning, filled with papers. What are these?