The Divining (41 page)

     She filled her ears with the polyglot sounds of many languages, and it felt good to hear Aramaic spoken again, and a dialect of Greek that was closer to her mother tongue than that which was heard in lands farther east.
She heard the familiar Persian, and Phoenician, Hebrew, Egyptian, Latin, and even a few tongues she did not recognize, reminding her of the legend that Babylon was the birthplace of mankind's many languages.

     As Ulrika reached the base of the giant gate that led out of the city, she saw corpses hanging from the crenellated wall of the Hall of Justice. Criminals who had been slung up by their heels and left to die. This was Babylon's notorious form of execution. Here, crucifixions were never seen and Ulrika wondered if it was because of the scarcity of trees in this part of the world, making wood too precious to waste on the condemned. The dead and dying victims had all been branded, she saw, with a symbol that identified them as blasphemers and those who had committed sacrilege against the city's gods.

     Whispering a prayer for their souls, she joined the busy foot traffic heading out of the city. Just ahead lay the great terminus of caravans arriving from the east.

     A
S
S
EBASTIANUS HURRIED TOWARD
Ishtar's Delight
, a small boat with wine amphorae lashed to its deck, and twelve oarsmen preparing to lower their oars into the water, he saw a woman disappear through the crowd near the city gate. He stopped and squinted. Her height, her shape, her gait ...

     Was it she? Or was he so eager to find Ulrika that he was now seeing her in every woman on the street?

     The crowd parted briefly. He saw her pause to look at the condemned men hanging on the crenellated wall, and as she turned, he glimpsed her face.

     It was she!

     "Ulrika!" he called, but she was swallowed up by the crowd.

     He pushed through, shouting her name, dodging crates and dogs, trying to keep her in view. She had gone in the direction of the caravan terminus. Travel packs on her shoulders, and a medicine box slung on a strap ... Was she planning on leaving?

     He ran through the main gate, calling out. And then he saw her, just up ahead.

     "Ulrika!"

     She stopped and turned. He saw a look of astonishment on her face. He cried out with joy.

     Ulrika ran to him, staring at Sebastianus with wide eyes as he drew near, wondering if he was real or a vision. He wore a handsome dark brown tunic, edged at the hem and short sleeves in gold embroidery and belted at the waist with a knotted cord. On his feet, sandals that were laced up to his knees, and a cream-colored cloak swung from his broad shoulders. He seemed taller than she remembered, his body more powerfully built, as if the thousands of miles had imbued him with new life and virility. She remembered that he was nearly forty years of age, yet seemed much younger.

     Before she could speak, he reached out, pulled her to him, and embraced her, saying, "I found you, I found you."

     Ulrika tried to catch her breath as she pressed her face against his chest and heard the reassuring thump of his heart. "It is you," she murmured. "It is truly you."

     Sebastianus drew back to look down at her with damp eyes, his hands on her arms and his face so close that she saw a small scar on his chin—a new scar, so that she wondered what foreign weapon, or thorn, or cat had caused it. There were new wrinkles, too, at the corners of his eyes, as if he had laughed a lot in China, or seen too much sun. But his voice was as she remembered, deep and mellow as he said, "I knew you would be here. Somehow, I knew."

     She struggled for breath. The feel of his hands on her arms, the strong grip, the heat that permeated her
palla
and ignited her skin. "I came to Babylon seven years ago. The Caravan Master said I had missed you by a month."

     "Did you get my letter?"

     She reached into one of her packs and produced a small scroll. It was yellowed and worn from so much handling, from being read a thousand times. "Even though I had committed it to memory," she said, "I still needed to see the words on the papyrus, written in your own hand."

     "Ulrika I have so much to tell you—"

     "And I, you. Sebastianus, you reached China!"

     "What of you? The visions, the Divining. Did you go to Persia? Did you find the Crystal Pools?"

     "Yes, yes, yes," she whispered. While citizens of Babylon streamed around them, and carts rattled by, and horses picked their way over the paving bricks of the roadway, Ulrika filled her eyes with the sight of this man. After all the sunsets and dawns, midnights and noons she had spent thinking about Sebastianus, dreaming about him, talking to him, feeling her love for him grow—here he was. Tall, solid, bronze hair shining in the sun, Galician-green eyes looking down at her with a piercing gaze.

     "Come," he said, taking her travel packs and medicine kit, slinging them over his broad shoulders.

     As they left the gate and the city and the crowds, as Ulrika walked at Sebastianus's side, feeling his hand on her arm as he guided her, protected her, she thought the sun had never shone so brightly, the river breezes had never been so fresh, the crops in the fields never so green.

     She thought her heart would burst with joy and love.

     They came to the vast staging field for caravans heading for distant places. Sebastianus led Ulrika along lines of kneeling camels, the stench of dung filling the air, with flies buzzing about, and men hurrying this way and that among what seemed like a hundred tents.

     A man came around a service tent, wiping his hands on a cloth, frowning in deep thought. Ulrika recognized him as Primo, the military veteran who had been Sebastianus's chief steward. He looked a little older, a little more weathered, but she was pleased he had come through the experience unscathed, for she recalled that it was he who had been responsible for the safety of the caravan.

     He glanced up and when he saw his master, grinned. But then his eyes caught Ulrika and his grin not only faded, it was replaced by a scowl.

     "He's not happy about something," Ulrika murmured.

     "Primo is anxious to return to Rome. He has been insisting that we leave Babylon." Sebastianus smiled. "I would agree with him, except that I knew you were here and I had to find you."

     Ulrika sensed something darker behind Primo's look of displeasure. She could not pinpoint it, but she had the feeling that his anger was directed at her. Recalling her feeling, back in Antioch, that a traitor lurked among Sebastianus's men, Ulrika wondered if there was more to Primo's dark look than impatience to get to Rome.

     And then she received a shock. A frail, white-haired man with gaunt cheeks and arms like sticks, his robes hanging loosely on him, came up and said, "It is good to see you again, dear child."

     Ulrika stared at him. It took her a moment to realize it was Timonides. What had happened to the old astrologer? She tried to hide her dismay by smiling and saying, "It is good to see you again, Timonides."

     "Here we are," Sebastianus said when they arrived at an enormous tent fashioned of thick red cloth and topped with snapping gold pennants. He took her hand and led her inside.

     And Ulrika entered another world.

     The heavy fabric of the walls muffled sounds from the outside, creating a cozy harbor of silence. Shiny copper lamps hung from the tent supports, emitting soft glowing light. The floor was covered with rich carpets and strewn with gaily colored pillows. Every space and corner was filled with fabulous treasure: translucent jade statues, chests filled with shimmering gold coins, fans made of iridescent peacock feathers.

     Before Ulrika could speak, Sebastianus took her into his arms and kissed her hard on the lips. Her arms immediately circled his neck, to pull him against her. She kissed him back in sudden hunger.

     He drew back and cupped her face in his hands. "I have so many things to tell you, and I have so many questions to ask you. But all I care about right now is this moment, being with you. I have dreamed of you ..." He bent his head and kissed her again, tenderly this time, and slowly. Ulrika delivered herself to the love and sweet sensation, tears in her eyes.

     When he drew back a second time, Sebastianus said, "In Antioch I was not a free man, Ulrika, I was not free to love you. As a member of my caravan, you were in my charge, and I have never taken advantage of that sacred trust. And also, I had to go to China. You, too, had to follow another path. Tell me, Ulrika, did you find all that you sought?"

     "I did," she said, watching his lips as he spoke, wanting to kiss them, to press her mouth to his and never let go. "Was China magical, Sebastianus?"

     "It was, and now I seek another kind of magic. Will you marry me, Ulrika? Will you come to Rome with me and be my wife?"

     "Yes, oh yes."

     Sebastianus solemnly stepped away from Ulrika and with great ceremony
removed an iron ring from the little finger of his right hand. Slipping it onto the third finger of Ulrika's left hand, he softly recited the traditional Roman marriage vow: "I give you power over my hearth, power over the fire, and water in my house."

     Ulrika replied: "Where you are master, I am mistress."

     Sebastianus took her face in his hands again and kissed her gently. "Now you are my wife, and I am your husband. Tomorrow, we will go to the office of municipal records and register our marriage."

     Ulrika closed her eyes. How she wished her mother were here to share in her joy. Ulrika knew that Selene would embrace her new son-in-law with love.

     His voice then grew husky as he said, "By the stars, Ulrika, you transport me. You are magic. Are you even real, I wonder?"

     "I am real, Sebastianus," she whispered, lifting her face to his.

     He reached up and loosened her hair, drawing cascades of honey-colored tresses over her shoulders and breast. He bent his head and kissed her. Ulrika curled her arms around his neck. The kiss grew urgent. Their passion flared. Words tumbled out between desperate kisses, hurriedly whispered: "Love ... need ... desire ... yes ... yes ..."

     The cosmos shifted and sighed. Reality changed. The old world disappeared and a new one was created as Ulrika and Sebastianus explored each other's bodies, discovering exciting hills and valleys. Ulrika opened herself to him. He possessed her completely. The scarlet tent with the snapping gold pennants embraced the lovers as they embraced each other, and kept them safe.

     S
EBASTIANUS AWOKE AND LIFTED
himself up on an elbow to watch Ulrika as she slept. When he touched a fingertip to her cheek, to softly trace the line of her jaw, her eyes fluttered open. She smiled.

     He kissed her, sweetly and lingeringly, and then he said, "Tell me about Persia."

     Ulrika recounted her experience in Shalamandar, the meditation that
had revealed the crystal pools, the visit from Gaia, while Sebastianus listened in interest. "I think now that I was never meant to reach my father's people in time to warn them of Vatinius's attack, for I see now the futility of such a plan. My journey to the Rhineland was the Goddess's way of setting me free. I had felt bound by invisible ties to a land that was not part of my destiny."

     She stroked his stubble-covered jaw. "Gaia also told me that it is my destiny to find the Venerable Ones. But I have been searching for five years and have yet to even know who they are."

     Sebastianus laid a hand on her cheek. "I must depart as soon as possible for Rome. Can you search for them there?"

     "I will search the world if I must."

     He smiled. "Then I will help you, for I too am destined to travel the world."

     Sebastianus cradled her in his arms then, drawing her to his warmth, while Ulrika relished the feel of his skin against hers, marveling at the power of the masculine body that held her and made her feel safe. As she listened to the reassuring beating of his heart, she listened to an amazing story of brave men crossing deserts and mountains, fighting for their lives, meeting a whole new race for the first time. He filled her mind with beautiful images as she tried to imagine Chinese women, whom she thought must be like butterflies.