An Echo in the Darkness(103)
“To what end?”
“I don’t know, Mother. I hoped.”
“Hoped what, Taphatha? That a Roman would agree to be circumcised? That a Roman might become a Jew? You must think, Daughter.”
Taphatha shook her head and looked away, her face pale with misery. Jehosheba started to say more, but Ezra shook his head, silencing her before she did. Her own eyes were filled with tears and accusation as she looked at him. He knew what she was thinking. It was his fault Taphatha had fallen in love with a Gentile. It was his fault she was suffering. He shouldn’t have brought Marcus Valerian into their home.
But if he hadn’t, he might never have come to know the truth.
Having no words to spare his daughter her pain, Ezra remained silent. After a moment Taphatha rose and fled to the roof.
“You couldn’t say something?” Jehosheba said in accusation, her cheeks pale and tear streaked.
“Whatever I say will only hurt her more.”
Jehosheba dumped the garment she was sewing into a basket and rose. “Then I will—”
“No, you won’t. Sit down, woman, and leave her be.”
Wide-eyed, Jehosheba sat.
Taphatha carried out her duties over the next few days. She said very little. Jehosheba went to the market and visited with the other women. Ezra returned to his parchments, ink, and pens. He felt a restlessness and hunger and spent more and more time on the roof during the evening hours, praying for direction.
He was waiting, but he knew not for what.
A Roman advocate came from Caesarea Maritima seven days after Marcus’ departure. The man was richly dressed and accompanied by eight well-armed guards. With great ceremony, he presented Ezra a letter and gestured for two guards to set a strongbox upon the table.
Confused, Ezra peeled off the wax seal and unrolled the scroll. The epistle stated that the bearer of the letter, one Ezra Barjachin, could sail at any time to any destination on any ship owned by Marcus Lucianus Valerian. He was to be given the best accommodations and treated with the highest respect and honor.
“How can this be?” Ezra said, stunned. “Who is he that he can say these things?”
The advocate laughed. “Do you not know who was under your roof, Jew? Marcus Lucianus Valerian can do whatever he pleases. He is a Roman citizen and one of the richest merchants in the Empire. He owns emporiums in Rome, Ephesus, Caesarea Maritima, and Alexandria. His ships sail as far as Tartessus and Brittania.”
Jehosheba sat down heavily on her stool, her mouth agape.
The advocate opened the strongbox, revealing its contents. “For you,” he said with a grandiose sweep of his hand. It was filled with gold aurei.
Stunned, Ezra drew back from it.
“The difference between a Roman and a Jew,” the advocate said haughtily, casting a disdainful look around the simply furnished room. Having finished his assignment, the advocate walked out of the house. The soldiers followed.
Ezra looked into the box again. Unable to believe his eyes, he picked up a handful of golden coins and felt the weight of them in his hand.
Jehosheba rose, trembling. She stared into the strongbox and clutched Ezra’s sleeve. “There is enough here to live comfortably for the rest of our lives! We can buy a bigger house. We can have servants. You can sit by the city gates with the elders. Your brother Amni will never look down his nose upon you again!”
Taphatha stood silently, her wide, dark eyes upon her father.
“No,” Ezra said. “God has another purpose for this money.”
“What purpose? He has blessed you for your righteousness. He has given you wealth to enjoy.”
Ezra shook his head. “No,” he said again and dropped the coins back into the box. “This is for his work.”
“Have you gone mad? Haven’t you listened to the Pharisees? God rewards the righteous.”
“No one is righteous, Mother. Not even one,” Taphatha said softly. “Only the Lord himself is righteous.”
Ezra smiled at her, his heart expanding at her words. He nodded, his eyes shining. She would understand and believe when he told her the Good News. “We will wait upon the Lord.”
“Yes, Father. We will wait upon the Lord.”
Ezra closed the lid of the strongbox and locked it.
22
Marcus walked north within sight of the banks of the Jordan River. He passed through Archelais, Aenon, and Salim and then walked northwest toward the hill country. In each village, he paused to ask anyone who would speak with him if they remembered a girl named Hadassah who had gone with her family to Jerusalem and not returned after the destruction. No one had ever heard of her.
He left wondering if the people to whom he spoke told him the truth. Often the courteous demeanor with which he was first greeted changed instantly to wariness and hostility when he spoke. His accent was marked. He could see the change come in their eyes and knew what they were thinking. Why would a Roman dress as a Jew unless he had some hidden scheme to trap them by their words?