An Echo in the Darkness(36)

“A sizeable problem, and not uncommon. Did you solve it?”

“No, my lord.”

“So he was still suffering from his ailments when he left?” He sighed. “He probably got tired of waiting.” He took some coins from the box and slammed the lid. “Not that I blame him,” he added, shoving it back into its cubbyhole. “If only I could work faster, I’d be able to treat more patients. . . .”

“He said his headache was gone.”

Alexander glanced back at her in surprise. Straightening, he frowned, uneasy. It wasn’t the first time he had felt this way in her presence. He had been almost too afraid to touch her after her festered wounds had cleared without any logical explanation. Surely her god had intervened, and a god with such power should not be taken lightly. “Did you invoke the name of your Jesus?”

“Invoke?” she said and straightened slightly. “If you’re asking did I utter an incantation, the answer is no.”

“Then how did you entreat your god to do your will?”

“I didn’t! It’s the Lord’s will that prevails in all.”

“You did something. What was it?”

“I listened to Boethus.”

“And that was all?”

“I prayed and then told Boethus about Jesus. Then God worked upon Severina’s heart, and she gave me the two quadrantes for him.”

Alexander shook his head, completely baffled by her explanation. “That makes no logical sense whatsoever, Hadassah. In the first place, Severina gave you the money because you were kind to her. In the second, she didn’t know anything whatsoever about Boethus’ problems.”

“God knew.”

Alexander stood perplexed. “You talk too freely about your god and his power, Hadassah. I would think after all you suffered, you, of all people, would know the world is like the wicked king in your story. You don’t know any of the people who come to this booth and yet you tell them about Jesus without compunction.”

She realized he had been sitting close enough to the curtain to hear every word she said to Ephicharis and Helena. “Whatever it may appear, the world belongs to the Lord, Alexander. What have I to fear?”

“Death.”

She shook her head. “Jesus has given me eternal life in him. Let them take my life here, but God holds me in the palm of his hand and no one can take me from him.” She spread her hands. “Don’t you see, Alexander? Boethus didn’t need caution on my part. Nor did Severina, or Ephicharis and Helena. They all need to know God loves them just as he loves me. And you.”

Alexander rolled the coins in his hand. Sometimes he was afraid of her convictions. She had already proven how deep her faith ran, deep enough to give up her life. He wondered if it would someday take her from him. . . .

He quickly pushed that thought away, not stopping to analyze the sharp stab of dread that shot through him. Losing her was not something he was willing to contemplate. . . .

He was even more afraid of the power he sensed in her. Was it hers alone or was it a gift from her god that could be revoked at any time? Whatever the answer, sometimes she would say things that raised gooseflesh on him.

“I need to think,” he muttered and stepped past her.

Moving along with the current of people heading away from the baths, Alexander debated what he knew about medicine with what Hadassah had said about anxiety causing illness. The more he thought about it, the more curious he became to see if what Hadassah suggested might be proven through proper record keeping. He purchased bread and wine and headed back, eager to talk with her.

Alexander took the partitions and closed off the booth for the night. He took his bedroll from beneath the worktable and sat on it. Tearing off a portion of bread, he handed it to Hadassah as she sat on her bedroll opposite him. Taking down the goatskin, he poured wine for each of them.

“I want to hear more about your theories,” he said as they ate. “First, the boil. How did you know what to do?”

“My mother treated a boil for a neighbor. I tried her method. By the grace of God, it worked.”

“By the grace of God.” He decided to remember those words. Perhaps they were more important than she realized. Perhaps in them was some of her power.

“I’ve seen you heal several people who’ve come to the booth.”

“I’ve never healed anyone.”

“Indeed you have. Boethus for one. You healed him. The man came with all manner of symptoms and went away cured. I obviously had nothing to do with it. I never even spoke with the man.”

Hadassah was disturbed. “All I offered Boethus was hope.”

“Hope,” Alexander said and tore off a small piece of bread and dipped it in his wine. “I don’t see that it’d make much difference, but go ahead. Explain.” He popped the bread into his mouth.