Examine me? I asked faintly.

Ah. You Jews and your preoccupation with modesty. How am I to diagnose you properly without looking for the cause of your illness? Your servant girl may stay if you wish.

If you think it indispensable.

I lay back on a couch, stiff with embarra.s.sment. Examine me, he did. He poked and prodded and sniffed and stared and stopped in the middle of his torment to take more notes. Tears dribbled down my cheeks. I would as soon slap him as pay the man.

There is an imbalance in your humors. If we bleed you, we will restore balance to your body.

Pardon, Anaximander, but you did hear the part about my being here because I am bleeding? For nine years? I threw my hands up in the air. How will more bleeding help that?

You know nothing about it, woman. Do you wish to be cured or not?

I shrugged. What harm would losing a little more blood do me? Proceed, physician.

He made me turn over on my belly. With a sharp razor, he cut five precise lines deep into the flesh of my back, where it dipped lowest. I grimaced. I could feel my blood drip down my side. With a deft movement, Anaximander caught the flow in a thin-lipped bowl. Protecting his couch from the stain, I guessed. He sat near me and watched as my life seeped out of me in slow rivulets. Keziah slumped in the chair near me, looking whiter than salt, chewing her nails.

I began to feel weak and dizzy. The physician must have finally grown convinced that I had lost enough blood to suit him. By pressing a linen towel into the cuts, he stopped the flow. I only wished it were as simple to stop the flow of my flux.

You must rest for seven days. Drink broth made from the flesh of a young bull five times a day. At the end of that period, use the mud that I have packed in this kerchief to create a warm poultice over your belly and lower parts. This mud comes from the Salt Sea and has great restorative powers. Apply it for at least three full days, making sure to keep it warm that whole time. Finally, bathe in a churning river, preferably when it is cold. You shall be cured if you follow my instructions with care.

I was certainly cured of the heaviness of my purse.

Keziah helped me walk back to the quarters we occupied during our stay in Perea. If not for her strong arm around my waist, I would have collapsed in the street. The additional loss of blood had made me so dizzy that my steps wobbled as we made our way back to the inn. I collapsed in my bed and lost consciousness for twelve hours.

Keziah waited by my bed with a bowl of rich broth when I awoke. She had procured this delicacy with some difficulty and at great expense. It tasted marvelous to my parched throat. I stayed in bed for seven whole days without putting up any argument. It wasnt merely that I wished to follow the physicians instructions to the letter. I felt too weary to move. Anaximanders remedy had nearly done me in.

At the end of seven days, Keziah made the poultice of mud according to the Greeks instructions and, after warming it over the fire, handed it to me. This proved to be a wonderful treatment for ones most hated enemy. The mud stung upon contact with the sensitive skin of my lower abdomen. But for three days I gritted my teeth and applied it faithfully as he had instructed me.

We had to walk almost two hours to arrive at the Jordan River for the final stage of my treatment. We picked a spot that seemed to have the strongest current, the water churning and frothing vigorously. I could do nothing about the temperature. To me it seemed more than cold enough. Stepping ankle-deep into the water, I gasped.

Are you certain, mistress? It looks deep in that spot.

I will be fine, I said, not certain that my a.s.surance would prove true. Lord G.o.d, please preserve me, I prayed. Please pour your healing balm into me and restore me. Take away this plague of blood from me forever.

I stepped deeper until the water reached my thigh. Grabbing hold of a long branch, I held on for dear life, resisting the pull of the current that tried to wash me away. Cautiously, I stepped forward; the water rose to my waist. Without warning, my foot slipped and I sank.

I did not know how to swim.

For long moments I struggled underwater, my body waving and undulating painfully, my lungs screaming for air. Somehow, I managed to find a foothold again and stood. The current had moved me deeper into the river and now I stood chest-deep. Taking long, gasping breaths, I remained still until the pounding in my chest quieted down. Then I closed my eyes and abandoned myself to the washing of the water.

Use this river to make me clean, Lord. Wash away my shame. As you rebuilt the crumbled walls of Jerusalem during the time of Nehemiah, reach down and rebuild this ruined body.

By the time I emerged from the river, I felt spent. To my delight, for a whole day and night my body did not bleed. Then the flux returned, making me a captive more than ever, for after Anaximanders treatment I grew weaker than before and could not regain even my former strength.

After paying Anaximander and covering our expenses in Perea for two weeks, my funds once again grew alarmingly low. Soon I would be unable to maintain my own house. What could I do?

Joanna and Chuza promised to help me so that I might remain in the house, but I considered this too great an expense. Joanna already had more than enough trouble. She had not become pregnant again since her last miscarriage, and her mother-in-law, Merab, wanted Chuza to set her aside in favor of a more fertile woman. Chuza had remonstrated with her, but how long could a man withstand a mothers constant nagging? If I accepted financial help from Chuza, I would only add to the condemnation Merab heaped upon my sister.

One night as I studied the Scriptures, I came upon a pa.s.sage from the prophet Isaiah: Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat!

Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. . . .

I wondered about those words for a long time. The Lord was promising provision to those who feared that they would go hungry and thirsty. If you have nothing, come to me, he was saying. I will be your provider.

But there was more than a practical a.s.surance in G.o.ds words. He wasnt merely saying that in our poverty, he would provide. He had more for us. After making the promise about filling our hunger, the Lord of heaven gave a strange command: Hear, that your soul may live.

G.o.d wanted to fill the hunger of our souls.

Come and buy that which will bring life to your soul. It costs no money to become whole. The famine of your heart can be satisfied the way an empty belly can be filled.

I hugged the roll of parchment to my chest. Heretofore, my greatest needs had seemed physical ones. My flesh needed healing. My finances needed restoring. These were necessary to my well-being, to my survival even. And yet were these truly the most important needs of my life?

I remembered with sudden clarity Josephs death and the guilt I had never been able to overcome, though so many years had pa.s.sed from that tragic day. As if it were only yesterday, I felt again my fathers blame and his constant rejection. I relived the grief of his injury and death, and my mothers loss. The pain of Ethans wrenching abandonment overwhelmed me once more.

If the soul had blood to shed for every wound, I would be a mangled carca.s.s now. More than a roof over my head, more than a healed body, I needed to have my soul restored. The Lord promised that this was possible. It was free. It was available. But I did not know how to obtain it. How did you go about finding wholeness and holiness when you were this unworthy? My flesh might have been unclean, but my heart was even more so.

I had no spiritual currency with which to come to G.o.d. I had no righteousness, no true depth of prayer, no great understanding of his Word. My sin was ever before me. Yet here was this incomprehensible promise: He who has no money, come, buy.

TWENTY-SIX.

With G.o.d we shall do valiantly; it is he who will tread down our foes.

PSALM 108:13.

ONE RAY OF JOY pierced the troubled clouds of my life. I received a letter from Claudia informing me that she and t.i.tus would be visiting Judea soon. Better still, they had been invited to remain at the palace of Herod Antipas for a full week, so she would be a Sabbath-journeys walk from my home. Of course, it took two whole months for her to actually arrive at my door. How those sixty days crawled and tarried!

I could tell Claudia was shocked by my appearance. We had not set eyes on each other for eleven years. I was thirty-one years old and a far cry from the vibrant girl she had known. I had lost weight; my skin had grown white and pasty. And nothing could hide the frailty of my body, which forced me to sit after only a little activity.

Oh, Elianna! she cried and burst into tears before taking me into her arms. It had been so long since someone who loved me had touched me with tenderness. I still refused to allow Joanna any contact with my skin lest her womb be contaminated by my malady. Even Keziah was not allowed to come near me; it was the only thing I could do to protect her from being polluted by my illness. Heaven knew she already had to bear with our neighbors scorn for the mere indiscretion of living with me.

After a moment of consternation, I leaned into Claudias embrace and started to weep. I loved the Roman arms that did not reject me, but held me tighter and grew damp with our tears.

Finally, we drew apart and dried our eyes. Tell me about t.i.tus. How is he?

He fares well. Elianna, I cannot explain what turned the tides of our fortunes or why our former enemy, Seja.n.u.s, decided to forgive t.i.tus and think of him in a favorable way.

The years have not been kind to the emperor. Tiberius has all but retired from public life. This keeps Seja.n.u.s very busy; he practically runs the empire. Who knows how many seditious plots he has had to undo? Perhaps he grew to appreciate my husbands honesty. At least he knew that t.i.tus would not stab him in the back while speaking a vacuous compliment.

What does t.i.tus do now?

He has been appointed a praetor, as we hoped.

Isnt that an army commander? I asked, settling myself on my cushion and leaning against the wall.

It can be. In this case, t.i.tus is a magistrate who works through the tribunal. We have been stationed in Sicilia for some years. I think Seja.n.u.s is thinking of sending us back to Palestine soon.

Oh no! I am sorry, Claudia. I know how you hated it here.

The generous mouth flashed its charming smile. I hated seeing my husband sink under the weight of an inferior position. As praetor, he shall enjoy the rank and influence due his abilities. We shall be very happy here.

Do you know, I believe that your prayers may have opened the door to good fortune for us. Remember how you told us about your G.o.d and the way he helped Cyrus the Persian? t.i.tus still talks of it.

I shook my head. I am glad that story made an impression.

Indeed. t.i.tus has a very positive view of your G.o.d, unlike most Roman officials who are stationed here. They only perceive him as a source of trouble"an agitator of revolutionaries.

Claudia adjusted her skirt as she stretched her feet. My husband seems strangely drawn to your G.o.d. He even visited the outer courts of your Temple in Jerusalem once. It made him very popular with certain Jewish officials, though he had not gone to gain favor. He went to satisfy his own curiosity.

t.i.tus could get along with anybody. Even your cruel Seja.n.u.s could not resist him for long.

Claudia slapped her thigh and sat up straight. I almost forgot. Guess who we ran into while at Herods palace here in Tiberias?

Chuza?

Well, yes. But I did not mean your sisters husband. I was referring to Decimus Calvus. Remember him?

Yes. I have a vague recollection, I said through frozen lips. I had not seen the man or heard of him in over ten years.

He has been transferred to Galilee recently. Time has graced him with favor. He has been promoted to senior centurion and commands a cohort.

He is here in Tiberias? I emptied my voice from the dread that chilled me to my bones.

Indeed. You might run into him, Elianna. This is not such a large city.

Would I never be rid of that man? I doubt our paths shall cross. I rarely leave the house.

Do not be shocked by what I am about to say. Once, I thought he liked you. A lot. He often stared at you with that narrow-eyed, thoughtful look men get when they want a woman.

The Lord spare me from such liking. I could not suppress a shiver.

You disapprove of him? Because he is a Roman?

Because he is untrustworthy.

I am sorry to hear it. I confess, when I ran into him this week, I thought . . . that is, I hoped you might be open to a new relationship. Calvus is divorced, you know? And you are as pretty as ever. Prettier, even, with a kind of fragility that is sure to please a man.

My eyes snapped open. Have you lost your mind?

Why not? You would make the best of wives.

I groaned. First, he would make a terrible husband. I would rather have a bleeding disease. Oh, wait. I already do. That should count for the second.

Claudia giggled. I have so missed you. We must find you a new physician. If you were in Rome, you would have been healed ten times over by now.

I once had a physician trained in Rome.

What happened?

I was a lot poorer when he left.

Claudia made a noise between choking and laughter. What of this prophet everyone is buzzing about?

What prophet? I couldnt help sounding bored. Apart from the topic of brilliant physicians, nothing irked me so much as talk of new prophets. Because of my sickness, folks felt it their duty to point out any self-proclaimed holy man who poked his head out of a bush in the wilderness. I was content with reading the proclamations of the Lord as spoken through the old, established prophets. I was content with his Word. New prophets had little to offer but empty promises and trouble.

He is one of yours. Everyone is astonished by the miracles he has been performing all over the Galilean and Judean countryside. The blind see, the dumb speak. Genuine miracles, by the sound of it.

Have you seen one?

Well, no.

There you are. By next year, he will be forgotten and I will still be sick.

My two best friends happened to come to Tiberias within a few days of each other. Several weeks earlier, Viriato had written to say that he would arrive in Galilee for business and intended to stop at my home to see me. The evening we expected him, a knock sounded at the door. I had sent Keziah to pick up provisions for our meal. In order to save my dwindling funds, we normally ate very simply, and except for Chuzas generous gifts of occasional wine and pastries left over from one of Herods feasts, our regular diet was unsuitable for someone with Viriatos healthy appet.i.te. I planned to feed him a stew with real meat that night. None of the usual watery barley soups for our giant.

At the sound of the knock I ran to the door, already beaming with the antic.i.p.ated pleasure of seeing my friend. Flinging the door open wide, I cried, You are early and I have no food to offer you yet.

Decimus Calvus grinned at me from the other side of the threshold.

What an enthusiastic welcome, he drawled. A man could grow used to such a smile, even without food on the table. He was garbed in daunting military gear, his scarlet cloak flung over one shoulder, chain mail and leather belts covering his torso. His plumed helmet was tucked under one arm.

I took a hasty step back. What are you doing here, Calvus?

I am stationed in Tiberias now.

So Lady Claudia told me when she visited. What brings you to my door? Surely you know I have no wish to see you.

But I have every wish to see you. He brushed past me as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

Get out, I said through gritted teeth.

Is that any way to speak to a man who has spent days searching for you?

I do not know why you would waste your time with such a task. We have nothing to say to each other.

To my vexation, Calvus threw himself on the couch and stretched his legs as if he owned every cubit of the house. Sit down, woman. I have things to say to you.

What things?

I hear you have been sick.