A Stray Drop of Blood (7 page)

“
For whom, Cleopas?” She rested her hands on his chest. “For us? For me? Or for them?”

He sighed and rested his forehead on hers. “Think about it. I will give you one month to decide, since it
is
your decision. Unless in that time you come up with something better, we will consent. How is that?”

Ester smiled. “You are a good and fair man, my husband.”

~*~

Ester left the sanctuary of her abode with Abigail close to her side. It was rare indeed for her to enter Jerusalem; the years of her marriage had taught her many things, one of which was that her own people, regardless of her continuous love for them, saw her as a traitorous recreant. And since she offered them no argument, their opinion had not changed over the ages. Instead, they viewed her with distaste, and she generally avoided the crowds, contenting herself with the world within her home.

But today she had announced that she intended to take a walk through the city, and that was that. She had not even allowed the girl to change into her rougher garments, so they looked like mother and daughter walking through the streets. Ester tried to rid herself of the unrest that had forced her outside to begin with, but she suspected the cause was lost.

The last time Ester had been in Jerusalem proper had been almost a year ago, and the trip had not been far, only to the palace of the governor, Pontius Pilate, to attend one of his feasts. She had not, on that occasion, really had time to think; she was with her husband, on the way to dinner, her thoughts busy with that. Now, however, she had plenty of opportunity to let her mind take in the goings-on around her: the bustle of the streets, the dust rising from the multitude of hurried steps, the song of myriad clangings and laughings and words and bumpings all joined together into one muted din as they entered the markets.

“
Pe’kanims
!” one merchant was calling out. “
Shkedins, egozims, tzimukims
!”

“
Zay’tims
!” another sang. “The finest in Israel!”

“
Shezifims
!”

“
Charoov
!”

“
Abigail!”

Abigail turned with a smile for a vendor. “Michael.” She spoke in Hebrew, as did he and the others in the market.

“
Are you in need of more
te’enims
so soon?” The man, dressed in a brightly woven mantle, motioned to the ripe figs before him.

She smiled and shook her head. “Mistress Ester just wished to walk.”

Though Michael acted as though he had not noticed her, certainly he had. “My apologies, Lady Visibullis. Have you been faring well?” His words had changed to Greek.

Ester forced a pleasant smile, and she answered in Hebrew. “Wonderfully, thank you.”

Abigail was giving the merchant a glare that would have withered a lesser man. “Good day, Michael,” she bade in a stony tone, in Greek. “And you can keep your figs and pomegranates and grapes. There are others just as sweet elsewhere.”

Panic entered Michael’s countenance. “A moment, my friends!” This time he spoke in Hebrew. “Again, my apologies. Do not hold my slip of tongue against my produce.”

Ester put a restraining hand on Abigail’s shoulder when she saw that the girl was practically ready to bite. “It is all right.” Her words were not only soft, but in Latin. She knew that most here would not know the words, as she herself was not even fluent.

“
It is not. He has insulted you, and that is not to be tolerated. He is but a merchant.”

The word for “tolerated” was not familiar, but Ester understood the general meaning. “There are none who would act differently. Do not punish him for the feelings that come most naturally.”

Abigail’s speech drift back into Greek, her eyes on Michael. “Just because a feeling is natural does not mean it should be indulged.”

The merchant was, by this time, looking adequately abashed. “You are my best customer, Abigail, and my friend. Please, I meant no insult. It is simply a habit to speak in Greek–”

“
Do not lie to me, Michael.”

Exasperation overtook the man’s expression now. “And why not, when you did just moments ago? You
know
there are no fruits as sweet as mine!”

Quite suddenly, Abigail laughed. “You are right. And so am I. Shall we forgive wrongs?”

The man nodded, satisfied. “Here. A
tapooz
for my gratitude.”

Abigail took the orange with a soft smile. “Thank you, Michael. I will see you as usual in a few days.”

The women walked away then. This had been a bad idea. They ought to turn around and go home now, before another merchant could insult her and anger Abigail.

“
You do not have to defend me,” Ester eventually said as they moved out of the market quarter.

Abigail remained silent for but a moment. “They only respect what they see is worthy, Mistress. If you simply accept their insults, they will think you a coward. If you insult them in return, they will think you a tyrant. I simply wish to help you find that path that is most favorable.”

“
And I appreciate your efforts. But I
am
a coward, Abigail. I always have been.”

Abigail looked over into her eyes. “I find it difficult to believe you, Mistress. Cowards do not–”

“
Ester?”

The voice was not loud, and sounded as if from leagues away. But she stopped, shocked, and turned in the direction of the man who spoke. “Jairus.”

He was well dressed, still handsome. She knew he had risen to a leadership level in the synagogue, but it had been so long since she had seen him . . . and to see him now, and actually speak to him on the street–her nerves buzzed at the unexpectedness.

He looked incredulous himself. “It has been a long time. You look well.”

“
Thank you. You do, also.” Ester searched her mind for something with which to fill the silence. “How is your daughter?”

“
You have not heard?”

Their gazes locked again. “I suppose not. What is it?”

“
She died.” He said it calmly, though perhaps with a bit of surprise that she knew nothing of it.

“
Oh Jairus, I am so sorry! If I had known, I would have come–”

“
No, no, it is all right. You see, she is well again.” His brown eyes were soft as he shared this news.

“
Pardon?”

He smiled. “It was a while ago, now. We were all in a terrible panic, of course, and no one knew quite what to do. The fever had hit her very suddenly, and no one expected recovery. The mourners were already gathered, but I just could not accept it. So I went into the city looking for the teacher I had heard was here, the one they call Jesus. You have heard of him?”

“
Briefly.” Ester stilled. How strange to have heard nothing of this man, then for him to come up twice in such a short time.

“
I am not certain what it was that possessed me to go to him, especially with all of the concern he has been causing the Pharisees. But I found him, and the moment I looked at him, I knew he could heal my daughter. So I begged him to come, and he agreed. But when we arrived, the mourners were wailing, and my wife met us at the door with the news of her death. But the master said she was only sleeping and put everyone out of the house and then simply went in and commanded her arise.”

“
And she did?” Her disbelief surely showed on her face.

“
She did. And now she is in better health than she has ever been. The teacher told us not to tell everyone what happened, but even so rumors have spread. Most have at least heard something about it.”

Ester dropped her gaze again. “I am not privy to much gossip. But I am glad to hear she was restored.”

Silence reigned for a moment more. Jairus cleared his throat, his gaze flitting to Abigail. “I did not know that you had a daughter.”

Ester smiled. “I have not. Abigail is my dearest companion.”

Jairus nodded. “Your son, then. He is well?”

She nodded in return. “He has been in Rome these past years, but is even now on his way home to serve under his father.”

Jairus moistened his lips and sighed lightly at the mention of Cleopas. “You are happy with your husband?”

Though most would deem the question forward, especially on a street where anyone could overhear, Ester knew no surprise. She smiled. “He is a wonderful man. I love him with all of my heart.”

Jairus’s face relaxed. “I am glad. All of these years I have wondered, but I never had the courage to ask you. But with all that happened to my little Keren, I have acquired an altered view of life. One should never live with regrets in one’s heart. So I knew when I saw you that I could not let another day go by without asking for your forgiveness for my past ill treatment of you.”

Ester did not smile again, but she trusted he could see her sincerity. “You have been forgiven for many years, Jairus. It is I that has yet to be excused in the eyes of my people.”

He shook his head. “Yet it was you who did no wrong.”

She shrugged, hoping to look disinterested in the old pain after all this time. “But I would choose the exact path again if the years were given back to me.”

“
Well.” His hand swayed gently into his leg, obviously at a loss for conversation. “Give my regards to Cleopas, Ester. And best wishes for your son upon his return. And to you, of course, and your lovely companion.” He turned to Abigail and smiled. “You remind me of my Keren. I can only hope she will grow to share the same beauty I see blossoming in you.”

Abigail blushed and uttered the appropriate words of gratitude.

Ester smiled anew. “It was a glorious surprise to speak with you again, Jairus.”

“
And you.” He nodded in farewell and continued on his way, leaving the two women alone again.

“
I think I am ready to go home,” Ester whispered.

Abigail was quick to take Ester’s arm, for which she was glad. The tears already crowded her eyes.

Chapter Five

“
I will brew you some camomile.”

Ester nodded and took a deep breath, trying to regain herself. She was more than happy to simply sit now, her body engaged in no movement but the methodic stroke of her fingers along her garment’s edge. Sunlight streamed in through the opening to the courtyard, along with the distant noise of clanging weapons as her husband continued to keep his men trained and ready, although there was no one left to conquer. Nothing but the very spirits of her people, and they would put up many a fight before succumbing completely. It was the rebellions they trained for now, day in and day out, so that when the inevitable assaults came they could be crushed as quickly and easily as possible.

Sometimes it still scared her to think that it was
her husband
training the Romans to kill her people. To crush them.

But she could not think that way. He was doing his job, serving his country.

Just as the Rebel Jews held that they were doing theirs.

Who was right? Who could tell? Who was she to judge?

“
Here, mistress, drink this.”

Ester’s attention was momentarily grabbed by her beloved maid. She took the cup and offered Abigail a smile, then patted the cushion next to her. “I imagine you are wondering about the incident that you just beheld.”

“
I would never pry into your past.” Abigail sat in her normal place and folded her small hands into her lap.

“
I know. But I would like to tell you, if you would like to listen. Perhaps you can learn something from my past naivete.”

“
I wish to share in any story you desire to tell.”

Ester smiled, but it soon faded as her mind retraced the past decades, to the time when she was little more than a girl herself. Finally becoming a woman but with little knowledge of how to handle it.

“
As you know, my father was high priest for a time, the years of my maturing,” she began. “My mother died when I was in my tenth year, so it was only my father who saw to my upbringing those later years. He taught me what he knew: the Law. But never did I sit down with an older woman and hear of how to best grasp the transition into womanhood, marriage. So it was not with grace that I handled myself.”

She sighed, searching the room as if for the best path to take in this journey to her past. “I was fourteen when I wandered to this section of the city, where the soldiers stayed. My father had, of course, charged me to stay as far away from the Romans as I could at all times. To go to the other side of the street when one was about in the city, to stay away from the booths when they purchased their goods, and to
never
go near the compound, especially alone. But–” she gave a breath of a laugh– “I had a stroke of rebellion then, I suppose, because at first opportunity, here I was.

“
I was trying to act nonchalant, but my courage was not long lasting, and I ended up in the marketplace, which I deemed safe enough. Oddly, though, it was
there
that I met my first Roman centurion.”