An Echo in the Darkness(38)

“Perhaps he saved you so that you might instruct me in his ways.”

She raised her head and looked at him through her veils. “And how do I do that when you have no ears to hear a word I say?”

“I hear.”

“Then hear this. What does the body matter if the soul is dead?”

“And how do you restore a soul if the body is moldering in disease? How does one repent without understanding what sin he has committed?” His mind was reeling with thoughts more complex than he could fathom at once.

Hadassah frowned, remembering her father telling of Josiah, king of Judah, whose servant had found the book of the Law and read it to him. Upon hearing it, Josiah tore his clothing, recognizing his own sin and the sin of his people against God. Repentance had come through knowledge. But she had no written copy of the Torah. She had no copies of the Memoirs of the Apostles. All she had was her memory.

“From now on you will no longer assist me, Hadassah,” Alexander said, setting his quill aside. “We’ll work together.”

She was alarmed. “I have no training as a physician.”

“Not in the way I have, perhaps, but you have more training than you realize. I’m versed in the physical nature of man, and your god has given you insights into the spiritual realm. It’s logical that we must work together in order to treat patients whose complaints are more complicated than a cut that needs immediate tending.”

Hadassah was speechless.

“Do you agree?”

She sensed something deeper at work than she or Alexander understood. Was this offer of God or the evil one? “I don’t know,” she stammered. “I need to pray. . . .”

“Good,” Alexander said, pleased. “That’s exactly what I want you to do. Inquire of your god and then tell me—”

“No!” she said hastily as his words set off alarm within her. “You speak as though I were a medium like those in the booths near the Artemision.”

“Then I’ll make an offering to your god.”

“The only offering God will accept is you.”

Alexander sat back slightly and didn’t say anything for a long moment. He smiled wryly. “I’m afraid I’m not that self-sacrificing, Hadassah. I don’t like lions.”

She laughed softly. “I’m not particularly fond of them myself.”

He laughed with her and then grew serious again. “Yet, you were willing to lay down your life for what you believe.”

“I didn’t begin my walk with God in an arena.”

His mouth tipped. “Where did you start?”

Tears came as warmth filled her. She liked this man. His desire to know and understand stemmed from his deep desire to help people. Perhaps it was God’s purpose that she instruct him in what she knew about the Lord. Perhaps there were answers in the laws that Moses had been given by God for the Israelites. Jesus had said he had come to fulfill the Law, not abolish it.

She held out her hand. Alexander took it, his own large and strong, closing firmly around hers. She eased from her bedroll, wincing as she knelt on the earthen floor. Taking his other hand, she drew him down so that they were both on their knees, hands clasped together, facing one another.

“We start here.”

Imitating her, Alexander bowed his head, concentrating on her every word.

He would write them down later.





6

Eudemas entered the triclinium and handed Julia a small scroll bearing a wax seal. Julia’s face paled noticeably as she took it and waved her away. Primus, sitting opposite her, smiled sardonically as she tucked it quickly into the folds of her Chinese silk tunic.

“Hiding something, Julia?”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“Then why aren’t you going to read your letter now?”

“Because I don’t feel like it,” she said tersely, not looking at him. She drew the crimson silk shawl around her and fingered the gold and adamas bracelet on her wrist. Primus noted how she grew more agitated at his perusal. His mouth curved as he continued to study her. She remained tense and silent, pretending not to notice. The vivid colors she chose to wear only intensified her pallor and brought out the deepening circles of sleeplessness beneath her eyes. Julia, who once glowed with lust and life, was now positively sallow with ill health. Trembling, she poured herself more wine and then stared into her gold goblet with dull eyes.

After a moment she glared at him. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Was I?” Primus’ smile grew taunting. “I was noticing how lovely you look this evening.”

She turned her head away, well aware his flattery was empty and vicious. “How kind of you to notice,” she said bitterly.