The Divining (26 page)

U
LRIKA HAD DISCOVERED THAT
Babylon, being at the crossroads between east and west, was a cosmopolitan city, tolerant of all faiths. Here, any foreigner to the city would find the god or goddess of his choice. Greek visitors found shrines to Aphrodite, Zeus, and Diana. Romans, when not at war with Persia, were welcome in temples devoted to Jupiter and Venus. Phoenicians could offer sacrifice to Baal, Egyptians to Isis and Osiris, Persians to Mithras. And of course, Babylon's own gods, Marduk and Ishtar, resided here in the most magnificent temples.

     Ulrika had visited them all, speaking with priests and oracles and wise-women, seeking to further her inner self-discipline. She engaged in focused meditation every evening, and while she had enjoyed some success in conjuring up visions at will, they did not last long. She grew sleepy, or her mind wandered, and she lost concentration. While the various temples and priests offered different forms of prayer, none could set her on the path toward deeper meditation.

     She had also searched for clues as to where she could find the Crystal Pools of Shalamandar, with no success.

     But the whole while she had been in this great city on the Euphrates, Ulrika's heart had been with Sebastianus, who she prayed was making steady progress toward China.

     She read his letter every night, and had developed the ritual of speaking to him before falling asleep, picturing his handsome face, his smile, sensing his strength and power, recalling the feel of his hands on her arms that last night in Antioch as he had declared his love for her. Ulrika would lie on her pallet as the city of Babylon stirred in restless slumber and whisper to Sebastianus in the darkness, telling him of her day, what she had achieved, assuring him that he was in her thoughts and heart from morning until night, hoping that Mercury, messenger of the gods and patron god of merchants and traders, would carry her words to her beloved.

     Ulrika turned toward Enlil Street, where she rented a small room from a widow named Nanna who supported herself and her five children by painting Ishtar-eggs. Nanna had great skill and a delicate touch, whether carving designs into clay eggs, or painting birds' eggs from which yolks and whites had been removed. Such eggs were popular as gifts to family and friends, and also a favorite temple offering in Babylon. In exchange for room and board, Ulrika helped Nanna take care of her five little ones. She also shared her healing knowledge with the neighbors in that quarter—prescribing elixirs and tonics, lancing boils, delivering babies—all the things her mother had taught her back in Rome.

     But Ulrika always took time to visit the caravan terminus at the south of the city, to inquire among traders returning from the East for any news on Sebastianus. The last report on the imperial diplomatic caravan to China had been six months ago, when a merchant of Bactrian camels had told Ulrika that he had heard of the Gallus expedition making a safe and successful passage through the treacherous passes of Samarkand. Ulrika had heard no word of Sebastianus since.

     She stood now in the sunlight of the marketplace as people bustled around her, ignoring the young woman in plain homespun with a veil covering her hair. The only feature to distinguish Ulrika from other young
women in Babylon was a wooden box hanging from her shoulder on a leather strap, symbols in Egyptian hieroglyphs and Babylonian cuneiform identifying it as a medicine kit.

     Thinking of the money she had just been paid for draining an abscess, and what she might purchase with it, Ulrika stopped suddenly and stared. In front of a vendor selling onions, leeks, and lentils, on the dusty ground before the display tables, a big brown hound sat on shaggy haunches.

     Ulrika did not know why she had stopped, or why the creature had caught her interest. He was an unremarkable dog, and the market square was crowded with animals—pens of geese and chickens for sale, crates of ducks and doves, roosts where exotic parrots and hawks sat tethered. Pigs and goats oinked and bleated in straw-packed pens, cats and dogs—for food and temple sacrifice—paced in small cages. There were even snakes dancing as charmers played their flutes, and scorpions hanging from the faces of mystics, to the amazement of onlookers.

     Yet Ulrika could not take her eyes off an ordinary dog.

     And then she realized that it was, of course, not a dog but a wolf.

     She had not experienced the wolf vision again since the night in the Judean wilderness when it had led her to a secret grave. She stared at it now in wonder and curiosity. And then something occurred to her. Keeping her eyes on the vision, she slowed her breathing, removed all thoughts from her mind except for the wolf, and focused on him with renewed intensity. "Lead me to where I must go," she whispered. "Show me the way."

     The handsome creature turned and loped away, through a crowd that was unaware of a spirit-wolf passing in their midst. It led Ulrika under a stone archway, and she found herself in a small square bordered on all sides by residences with wooden doorways and shuttered windows. In the center of the square, a small knot of people watched a man in their midst. Such sights were common in Babylon, as street entertainers were common—magicians, storytellers, even seers and necromancers.

     But the man in the midst of this quiet crowd was different from the usual street hawkers, who always wore colorful costumes to catch people's eye. This man's attire was subdued, modest. Ulrika recognized the long curls framing his face, the white, fringed shawl with blue stripes, and the leather
straps around his arms and across his forehead as the trappings of a devout Jew. And the people gathered around him were unusually subdued. Instead of being rowdy and pushy, this gathering was small and quiet and consisted of, Ulrika saw, mostly women and slaves. A few men stood on the edge, arms folded, skeptical expressions on their faces.

     When she saw that many in the audience suffered from injuries and disease, it occurred to her that this man worked healing miracles. Babylon was full of such healers.

     She focused her attention on the Jewish wonder-worker, who stood with a woman and held up his hands as he softly chanted. To Ulrika's surprise, the woman was chanting as well. And then she realized: they were praying together.

     As everyone watched in silence, listening to the soft murmur of two voices, Ulrika studied those around her, saw the looks of hope and anticipation on their faces, and wondered what they expected to see happen here today. "Pardon me," she whispered to a woman standing next to her. "Who is that man?" Ulrika asked.

     "That is Rabbi Judah," the woman said. "He has come recently from Palmyra. They say he is a worker of wonders."

     Ulrika returned her attention to the two standing in the center of the silent crowd, and saw that the praying woman had begun to sob. Covering her face with her hands, she bent her head and wept. The Jewish wonder-worker laid a hand on her shoulder and said, "Do you understand now, sister?"

     The woman nodded, too overcome to speak.

     The small crowd began to shift and murmur. It was someone else's turn. Yet there was no pushing and shoving, no calling out or holding up coins. Ulrika wondered if they had been told ahead of time to be respectful of Judah, or if it was something they instinctively sensed.

     The woman left—trying to give Judah coins, which he refused—and now the small gathering grew tense as each hoped the Jewish wonder-worker would choose her or him next. To their disappointment, however, the middle-aged Jew cleared his throat and said in a sonorous voice, "Brothers and sisters, mercy unto you and peace, and charity fulfilled. Remember this: nothing is lost, nothing is hidden. Ask, and it will be given. Seek, and it will
be found. There is redemption in forgiveness, as a man should be remembered for his good deeds and not for his sins. But know this above all: there is no death, there is only eternal life as long you keep yourselves in the love of God. And draw comfort, too, in the knowledge that God has a divine plan, the final goal of which is the highest good for humankind. We have only to obey his sacred Law and we will be redeemed."

     The gathering broke up peacefully. Ulrika did not understand what had just taken place. There had been no dramatic demonstration of magic, no explosive powders, no transformation of water into wine, no spontaneous healing of blindness and paralysis, and certainly none of the attendant noise and cheering from the mob that one saw in other market squares with other wonder-workers.

     She wondered why her wolf vision had led her here.

     But in the next instant, the rabbi turned and looked right at her and Ulrika felt something fly across the small, sunlit square, brush against her eyes like invisible wings, and soar down through her body to the center of her soul. She gasped. She could not move.

     Judah came toward her. He walked with a limp. He smelled of bread and onions, and Ulrika saw close-up, in the prodigious gray beard that fanned across his broad chest, a pistachio shell.

     "Blessings, daughter," he said in Aramaic. "What is it you seek?"

     Ulrika looked at the others drifting away from the small square, and wondered why he had singled her out. "Are you a mystic, honorable father?" she asked.

     He smiled. "I am an unworthy servant of God, glory and majesty to Him."

     She looked in the direction the weeping woman had gone, under a stone archway flanked by two Ishtar-egg vendors who were, at that moment, snoozing in the sun.

     "That dear sister had lost something, and now she knows where to find it," Judah said, anticipating Ulrika's question. "But you seek something yourself, daughter. Can I help?"

     Ulrika scanned the leathery face for signs of deceit. But Judah's eyes were open and honest, his middle-aged features clear of the slightest shadow
of guile. And he had not asked for money, something all charlatans did before offering a service. It occurred to Ulrika that he might be a genuinely honest man—he made her think of Sebastianus—and so she said, "I am learning to meditate. But I cannot seem to concentrate. It is a form of prayer, I was told, and so I thought..."

     He nodded. "Come, break bread with us."

     Ulrika had expected to be in the company of a small family, a private affair, but the house of Rabbi Judah was open to all. The courtyard was crowded with people of all ages and social status. And the gathering was lively and full of joy, with singing and testimonials and spiritual revelations. Judah asked for silence and he preached to the excited company, a message centering upon the End of Days and a new age approaching, which he called "the kingdom."

     The crowd burst into praise and singing while Judah moved among them, blessing them and thanking them for coming. When he reached Ulrika, he gave her a long, searching look and said, "Why do you wish to learn meditation?"

     "Honorable Rabbi," she said, "I have been visited by visions all my life. They are inexplicable, they come randomly and seem to have no purpose. I seek a way to command them, and to learn how to put them to good use."

     Judah said, "Many of our faithful are blessed with visions and spiritual phenomena. Some are even touched by the Spirit and then speak in tongues. Come, you will want to confer with Miriam."

     Judah led her inside the house, which was quieter and with fewer people. A middle-aged woman dressed all in brown with a brown veil covering her hair sat upon a chair with several people seated on the floor at her feet. She was plump and reminded Ulrika of a rosy-faced partridge.

     Judah said, "My wife Miriam is like Deborah of old, a judge who was also a prophetess. Like Deborah, Miriam is not one who foretells the future but who hears a message from God and passes it on to others."

     When Judah introduced the young woman to his wife, Miriam reached for Ulrika's hands and said, "Do not be troubled, daughter, for you are blessed. God has given you a gift."

     "But I do not know how to use it." Ulrika replied. "I have been practicing
focused meditation, but I cannot concentrate long enough. I fall asleep, or my mind wanders. What else must I do?"

     Taking Ulrika's hands, she looked deep into her eyes and said, "Do you fast before you meditate?"

     "Fast? No."

     Miriam said, "Fasting cleanses the body of the impurities that impede clarity of prayer. Fasting also keeps one awake. Hunger sharpens the senses, your mind will not wander. Do this, and you will be successful."

     "Thank you, Honored Mother."

     "I hear doubt in your voice. Let me tell you this, daughter: imagine your gift as a house filled with wonderful treasure. You do not know the way inside, but as you circle the house, you catch glimpses through windows, and you see fabulous things. Is this how it is with your spiritual gift?"

     "Yes," Ulrika whispered.

     "You need to find the door, daughter, and the key to its lock. Once you are inside, the treasure is yours."

     "Key!" Ulrika said, recalling what the Egyptian seer had told her in the Street of Fortune Tellers. "Is meditation this key?

     "I do not know," Miriam said. "But you are searching for a place, are you not, for the beginnings of your soul? You must find this place for it is essential to the spiritual path. I sense that you have strayed and must start again."

     "That is what I have been told. Do you know where Shalamandar is?"

     "I know nothing of Shalamandar, but there is one who does. He will take you there."

     "Who is it?" Ulrika asked in rising excitement.

     Miriam closed her eyes and, swaying in her chair, murmured words that Ulrika did not understand—it did not even sound like a human language but a kind of gibberish. When she stopped, the rabbi's wife opened her eyes and said, "You must go to Persia and save a prince and his people."

     "A prince!" Ulrika frowned. "But how can I save a prince?"

     "If you do not, his bloodline will end. His people will be no more."

     "Is it this prince who will take me to Shalamandar? Will he give me a key? Can you tell me his name?"