MORNING BROKE WITH the sound of a little bird singing in the window above the mattress where Shana was sleeping next to Mary. And she had slept, though it hardly seemed possible. She dressed quietly so as not to awaken Mary, and slipped out onto the street, still empty except for a few tradesmen making an early start. The rising sun touched the tallest buildings and ascended, leaving a fiery blaze burning out on the horizon. At the temple, several men were bowed in silent prayer, and Shana went past to the women’s section. Here, she fell on her knees, looked upwards and raised her hands to the sky. There were no words. As long as there were no words, the peace remained; she could not trust the voice of her thoughts. Only the name of Yeshua, repeated over and over as a prayer, held her steady. She managed to pray for Rafael, for the peace to rest upon him too, that was all.
When the temple began to fill up, she got up and went to the court, positioning herself where her husband would surely pass, and knelt beside the walkway, waiting. Time lost its meaning. In the place where she rested, eternal rhythms replaced the seconds marching inexorably towards the end.
When Rafael did pass by, she lifted up her face and, for one tiny slice of time, their eyes met before the guard’s body severed the connection between them. Then he was gone, swallowed up into the ‘cavern of shining stone’ that would spit him out as a free man, or . . .
She hugged her arms tightly around herself and waited.
Presently, Josiah passed by, walking with two other men in serious conversation. He did not acknowledge her but passed straight into the court, his shoulders braced in a show of confidence he perhaps did not feel. The doors closed with a dull thud – splendid, solid doors of oak. Shana got up in a daze and moved up the steps to the upper terrace, where Josiah had told her to wait for him. From there she could look down upon the portico with the doors in full view.
She sat down on the low wall of the terrace, lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes. The sun touched her eyelids like warm kisses; the air moving across her cheeks had an acrid smell of stone and dust. Far away, she could hear the sound of children playing, a mother calling, laughter, someone shouting. People passed back and forth in front of her like shadows.
For an age, she remained like this, emptied of all hope and all fear as if her body did not exist and she could look down from above on the world continuing in its ways. Now and again she murmured, “Yeshua, Yeshua, the King of Israel, is with me.”
Some time later, the great doors swung open with a low moan. She sprang up, her heart hammering. Surely it was too early for it to be over? A man came out and beckoned to a small group waiting outside. They must be the witnesses. She sat down again, breathing hard, and focused on her hands in her lap, which fluttered and shook of their own accord. Feeling sick and disorientated, she tried to breathe steadily to relax the cramp in her stomach, but her heart kept jerking in her chest and she wanted to cry. She swallowed hard; it was not the time for tears.
Hours passed. The sun, now overhead, burned through her head-covering. The crowds had thinned as people returned home for their midday meal, and now only a few men waited outside the courtroom below. Shana recognised one of the disciples, but he did not notice her. She fixed her eyes on the doors and scarcely breathed. If Rafael came out still chained between the guards to be led away for execution, she would run after him and shout to him that she loved him; she would fight tooth and nail to hold onto him once more, and they would have to bind her in chains, too, to stop her.
Just then the doors flew open. A man stumbled out with an awkward, limping step and faltered, trying to regain his balance. Shana’s knuckles ground against her teeth. Could it be? Could it really be? Yes, yes, it was! It was Rafael!
It was him! It was him! And his chains were gone.
He wandered out vaguely into the sunshine with cautious, uncertain steps, like a blind man. Bewildered, he looked from side to side, perhaps searching for a familiar face. The waiting men came forward to claim him. Shana came out of her stupor and leapt off the wall, about to race down the steps when a hand caught her arm in a strong grip.
“Not so fast, my friend,” said Josiah. She fought him wildly, trying to yank her arm away, but his fingers tightened painfully.
“Let me go,” she implored, tugging at his hand.
“Go greet your precious brother then,” he said, releasing her, “but remember, I’ll be waiting for you.” His tone was officious. She was down the steps in a moment, racing across the flagstones, crying out, “Raf! Raf!”
He turned around and looked at her distractedly as if he hardly recognised her. She threw her arms around him but immediately sprang back as if she had been burnt. He had not responded but winced in pain, and it felt like her arms had embraced a collection of bones held together only by the skin that covered them. He smiled a piteous, dazed, uncertain, painfully tired smile. His shoulders drooped, and the man looking back at her barely resembled the man she once knew. Unable to conceal her shock, she took another step backwards, her breath catching in her throat from the putrid odour emanating from the wretched figure before her. He must have understood, because he said in a cracked voice, “Allow me to go and clean up first, my love.”
“Y–yes.” Sudden tears overflowed down Shana’s cheeks.
The two friends gently took Rafael’s arms again. “We will take him to Anna’s house, where you can find him later when he has had a chance to recover a little. This has all been too much for him; he’s still in shock.”
“Thank you,” Shana whispered and then remembering her commitment to Josiah, added, “I am unable to come tonight and there is nothing I can do about it. I will explain when I see him in the morning.” She stepped forward again and placed a quick kiss on her husband’s filthy, bearded cheek, and his eyes flickered briefly in response, and then they led him away slowly, supporting him between them like an invalid. Shana watched him go, unable to kick away the feeling she had unconsciously been rehearsing, that she was being parted from him forever. Then she looked up to see Josiah standing stiffly on the terrace, as commanding as a sentry. She climbed the steps slowly, tears falling unchecked down her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she whispered to Josiah, a watery smile trembling on her lips.
“I’m glad you kept your word,” he said, dropping some of his stiffness. “We both have something to celebrate – that was my most successful trial to date and showcased to the entire Sanhedrin exactly where my talents lie. I have no doubt it has earned me a very good chance of soon being elected into the council. I managed to get the Sadducees and the Pharisees to agree, even if only temporarily, on one of their favourite bones of contention: the written law as opposed to the oral law, just by presenting the argument in a new way and quoting some examples. It was spectacular; I wish you could have seen it. There was one time your brother was almost done for, but then I lured the Pharisees into my trap by posing questions that proved his regard for Judaism and, one by one, secured their vote. I added that, since Saul had not sent any prisoners from Damascus, it was evident he had lost interest in the cause and no longer considered the Messiah movement a threat.” His words tumbled out in a rush of elation and self-congratulation.
“Yes, you’re right, we certainly do both have something to celebrate,” Shana spluttered, her chest bursting with emotion. “I will go to my room and dress more suitably and then meet you at the main square after your ceremony.”
He hesitated. “How do I know you won’t run off?”
Shana touched his arm. “I promise,” she cried, overwhelmed with a flood of gratitude. “I can never thank you enough for what you have done today and I shall not deny you the celebration of your great victory. See you later.”
She skipped away as light on her feet as a girl. She wanted to laugh and shout and run and run, out through the city gates and up into the hills, where she could fling off her shawl and dance a mad dance in the wind. Dizzy with euphoria, she was everything at once: a star spinning through space, an explosion of pure light, a joyous bride prepared for her lover. O praise be to the King of Glory!
That evening, she dressed in the robe she kept for special occasions and pinned her hair with the jewelled clasps Mary had made for her. It was a day of celebration; later the new moon would rise, declaring the start of the new month and a new season; she could wait one more night for her beloved.
Josiah was already waiting for her in the market square, clenching and unclenching his hands nervously behind his back and casting surreptitious glances around him. Many of the stalls had already been dismantled in preparation for the day of rest. He looked boyishly relieved when Shana approached.
"I have more good news for you," he said. "Your brother's companion was acquitted too on the strength of my persuasion during the previous trial."
Shana sucked in her breath and sighed with relief – she had forgotten all about him. "You are wonderful!" she exclaimed and laughed at the sight of Josiah's puffed up pride. Both in equally high spirits, they tripped along in no particular hurry. The whole world seemed brighter as though overlaid with vivid hues, and everyone was smiling. The setting sun turned the city to gold, and in the distance, a flock of white birds lifted off the rooftops and swirled into the sky, as free as foam on the wind.
Josiah took pleasure in explaining in detail how he had cleverly turned the tide of opinion in favour of the accused by directing the reasoning of the Sadducees and flattering the Pharisees for their faithfulness to laws concerning the protection of those wrongfully incarcerated.
“It was my final statement that clinched it,” he said. “I brought them to agreement by reiterating that holding one or two differences of opinion regarding the interpretation of scripture was no threat to Judaism and pointing out that they themselves disagreed on certain things. Then I stressed that their vote should be determined by whether the accused was a troublemaker or not. At that point, they all started mumbling and nodding, and the trial was brought swiftly to conclusion.”
He was as full of self-satisfaction as a boastful child, and Shana was only too happy to applaud.
In the upper room of his friend’s house, several men and women were already gathered, many of whom Shana had met before. A low table down the centre of the room was already loaded with dishes interspaced with jugs of wine and bowls of olives. The aroma of herbs and slow-roasting lamb wafted up from the courtyard below, teasing their appetites until the sun went down. On this night, the eve of the new moon, families and friends all over Israel came together to celebrate and reflect on God's provision. Soon the sound of the shofar would proclaim the start of the new month, and the next day would be a day of rest when burnt offerings together with sin offerings would be presented to God.
As the light faded, everyone went out onto the rooftop terrace to watch the great red orb sink below the horizon. In the darkening sky, the faint crescent of the moon was just visible. A chorus of trumpet blasts resonated from every corner of the city, a strangely stirring sound that seemed to penetrate to the inner depths of her being – body and soul. There were a few minutes of solemn silence as every Jew remembered Yahweh as the Judge before whom each one would have to stand in the heavenly court, but as his mercy was an integral part of their understanding of him, they could rejoice in full confidence of his provision for atonement.
While Shana stood with her eyes closed contemplating these things, she received clear insight into the true meaning of these rituals – the trumpet call to repentance, the sacrifices for sin, and the Feasts, which for generations had symbolised everything that had now been fulfilled in the Messiah. She glanced around at the others, all oblivious to the real meaning of the traditions they so faithfully followed, for they still awaited a Messiah who would come to deliver their land from Roman oppression and had not recognised the One who had come as a humble servant to govern a different kingdom. She wished she could simply explain it to them, but would anyone listen long enough before objecting, to hear what was so clear and plain to her? They were eager now to get on with the meal and were already moving inside, chatting and laughing and filling goblets with wine.
Josiah, merry and magnanimous, ushered Shana to the table and attended to her with exaggerated gallantry as though she were a princess, and she, exploding with joy at the thought of Rafael’s release, sparkled like a diamond, inadvertently drawing attention to herself, which flattered Josiah even more and he began to grow more daring in his displays of affection. Once, he laid his hand on her knee and she pushed him away sharply. “Stop that,” she hissed in his ear. Her rebuke cooled him for a while, which gave her time to compose herself and establish a little more distance between them, but as the evening wore on, she grew increasingly alarmed at the way the wine was going to his head. She considered slipping out and running home but was afraid to be alone at night in an area she was not familiar with.
Before she could form a plan, Josiah heaved himself onto his feet and pulled her up beside him, mumbling a drunken goodnight to his friends and exiting on wobbly legs. Shana followed him out, grateful that it was over at last so she could go home and lie down in her bed, where she could savour the events of the day and await the dawning of the glorious tomorrow.
The stars formed a brilliant canopy overhead, emphasising the darkness of the streets, which seemed to harbour sinister secrets, and once or twice Josiah fingered the sword at his side. The sound of their footsteps crunching on the gravel jarred the stillness, and a cat, stealthy as a thief, flashed across the street to reunite with the darkness. There was no one about except some lovers huddled together in a dark doorway. Josiah’s jovial mood waned as they neared Shana’s room, and his step slowed. As they crossed the small park where they had often sat together in friendly discussion, he stumbled and caught hold of her arm.
“Let’s sit down for a moment,” he said, pulling her down onto the bench beside him.
She resisted, saying, “I really want to get home; I’m very tired.”
“Just for a few minutes. I have so little time left with you and still so much to say.”
Reluctantly, Shana sat on the edge of the seat, glancing nervously at Josiah’s profile, a study of complex emotion.
He turned towards her and asked in a strained voice, “Are you intending to go away?”
“Yes, I’m going back home.”
“Of course, but will you come back again if you have reason enough?”
“What do you mean?”
His eyes glinted white-hot in the starlight. “I love you,” he breathed. “I can’t imagine life worth anything without you.”
“Please, you must stop speaking like this–”
“Don’t you love me, even a little?” His tone became beseeching.
“I cannot. I can never love you, I . . .” No, she could not tell him – not now and perhaps not ever. She did not trust him enough to be certain he would not retaliate and have Rafael re-arrested. “Neither can you afford to love me. Like you told me, you would lose everything.”
“Yes, it is true I would lose my father’s blessing, as well as my inheritance, but after today I know I can make it on my own; I don’t need him anymore.” He sat up straighter and swelled his chest. “I am now confident that I will become a very successful lawyer and a man of power and influence.”
Then he whipped around and gripped Shana’s shoulders, bringing his face close to hers. “But I need you by my side, Shana, more than anything or anybody, I need you.” Flames leapt in his eyes. The alcohol was strong on his breath. She twisted away and stood up.
“Stop this,” she begged. “You asked me to spend this last evening with you. I have kept my side of the bargain. We have been good friends and now it is time to say goodbye.”
A low moan escaped him and he clenched his hands into fists. The swift pain that sliced through his expression vanished and his face turned to stone. “Very well,” he said, rising.
Neither of them spoke until they reached Shana’s room. At the door, she turned to speak her final words. Josiah stood to one side, severe and erect as a soldier. All of a sudden, he pushed past her and pulled her into the room with a swift movement that took her completely by surprise.
“We’ll say our goodbye’s inside,” he said, closing the door behind him and pulling down the latch. His arms locked around her and his mouth crashed down upon hers so that she could not move or cry out, nor scarcely breathe. She tried to push him away, but his chest was as unyielding as iron. His brutal strength was terrifying as his passion drove him into a frenzy and took control of him, even as he took control of her. She fought to get away from his lips and the hot breath coming fast upon her cheek. If only she could speak, she could snap him out of this animal insanity and bring him to his senses, but her strength was feeble against him. Her struggle excited him more, and his hands grasped for her body.
A terrible dread took hold of her and began to scream in her brain. “No! No! It must not be. It must never be! Help me, God.”
He held her hands behind her back and pushed her against the wall with his body, stifling her with greedy, bruising kisses.
“Stop!” she cried weakly, fighting for breath.
“You promised me,” he said against her mouth.
“That’s not . . . true,” Shana mumbled.
He turned suddenly brutish. The faint light of the lamp she had left burning on a shelf gave him the appearance of a pagan idol. He took a handful of hair at the back of her head and held her close to his face. His voice had a metallic edge. “You lured me with every one of your smiles and your liquid eyes. I knew you were only holding yourself back from me because I told you I was already committed, and then when you knew I wanted you, you slyly waited until I had done my part. I have not only saved your brother's life but yours as well, and now it’s your turn. Do not refuse me!”
“No! It wasn’t like that. You don’t under–” She struggled to pull away, but crazed by the concoction of alcohol and desire and unable to concede rejection, he kissed her repeatedly so that she could not speak.
She fought him with all her strength. Somehow she had to tell him the truth. “Josiah, listen to me,” she cried.
His breath blew against her ear, drowning out her words. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeated, his voice turning husky. “I want you as my wife. I will gladly pay the fifty pieces of silver to make you mine, and then no one will be able to take you away from me.”
With horror it dawned on her what he meant. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she remembered hearing of a law that stated if a man took a virgin, he was obligated to pay a high price for her and then marry her. She cried out faintly on her heaving breath, which he mistook for a passionate response and began to fumble for her body. Everything in her recoiled violently and in a savage bid to free herself, she bit his lip. He pulled back in shock, a livid rage now infusing his passion. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he forced her backwards and began to push her down onto the bed. At last she was able to scream – one piercing, desperate note.
At that moment, the sound of splintering wood exploded in her ears as the door latch ripped out of the wall and flew across the room. Shana felt the impact of Josiah’s body against her as it jerked sideways and crashed to the floor. Haziel, huge and powerful in the tiny room, lifted the stunned young man with one hand and slammed his fist into him again, sending him reeling against the wall. The murderous fury in his eyes made Shana fear for Josiah’s life.
“Stop it,” she cried feebly, but no one heard. Josiah struggled up, wiping blood from his mouth. He glanced towards his sword, lying impotent on the floor in the far corner, and Haziel hit him again. He staggered backwards, trying to regain his balance, with blood pouring from his nose and staining his beard. He straightened up and made a vain attempt to regain his dignity before Haziel’s enraged bulk.
“I’ll have you executed for this; you have dared to strike a member of the high priest’s council,” he said, spitting blood down the front of his robe.
Haziel’s eyes bulged in his head, and he drew his mouth down into a contemptuous sneer. “Not unless you want to stand before the Sanhedrin and be judged for daring to touch a married woman.”
Josiah’s eyes widened in shock as he looked from Haziel to Shana, who was shivering by the door. He turned deathly pale as the full implication of what Haziel had said worked its way into his befuddled mind, and stood gulping like an idiot, wounded and defeated as a kicked dog. Shana felt a sudden wave of pity for the poor man who, in spite of all, had given her back her husband. It was he who had become the victim in the end.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered back at him as Haziel grabbed her arm and shoved her out of the door, leaving Josiah standing in the faint light like an apparition out of an Ezekiel vision, completely stripped of his honour.
“You little fool,” said Haziel, quickening his pace with great angry strides, the lamp flaring in his hand.
“It wasn’t my doing,” protested Shana, panting with the effort to keep up with him.
Haziel stopped abruptly and glared at her with a thunderous expression. “You think you’re so innocent? You are well aware of the effect you have on men. I know only too well how you play your games like a cat with a mouse, feeding your hungry little heart with your victim’s admiration, and then once you have caught your prey, you squeal like a piglet when you get what you asked for.”
Shana looked at him with her mouth open, experiencing the full impact of his well-aimed blow. “What do you mean?” she said in a small voice.
“You know very well what I mean. You landed yourself in trouble once before if I recall, and I was there that time too, wasn’t I?” Shana’s cheeks blazed under his punishing words. It was plain what the source of his anger really was – he had clearly never forgiven her for what happened between them and still viewed it as having been all her fault.
He turned and walked on once more, but he was not finished with her. “I pity your poor husband,” he said. “No wonder he keeps you locked away in that backyard of a town.”
“He does not!” retorted Shana, running to keep up with him.
“I’ve been tearing around all night looking for you,” he growled. “The first time I went to your room you were not home, so I searched half the city for you, concerned for your safety when I heard you had disappeared after the trial, and then I come back and find you cuddling up to that little boyfriend of yours.”
“Stop it, please stop it!” Shana cried, bursting into tears. “You know that isn’t true. He forced himself on me. I never gave him any reason to believe it would ever be anything more than friendship, and it wouldn’t have been even that if it were not for Rafael’s sake. It was your idea in the first place.”
“So he came to claim his prize, did he?” Haziel sneered. “I knew that arrogant little upstart would fall for your charms – to your advantage of course – but you must have overplayed your hand to get him into such a state. Stop sniffling now, you have been saved from the penalty of your sins once again.”
“How dare you say that! I couldn’t help that he fell in love with me, and I gave him no reason whatsoever to try to take advantage of me the way he did.”
“Well, he was a luckier man than I in that regard.”
Shana burned with rage and humiliation. What a hateful beast he was, refusing to acknowledge any responsibility for his own actions, taking advantage of her when she was young and clearly confused. She lapsed into a sulky silence, feeling like a chastised child.
“Where are we going?” she asked when it seemed he would say no more.
“I’m going to hand you back to your husband, my pet, and be happy to wash my hands of you at last.”
She felt suddenly afraid. “Can’t we wait till morning? It’s very late and too much has happened tonight. I don’t feel prepared.”
“I thought you couldn’t wait to see him.”
“Please, Haziel, allow me to stay the rest of the night at your house. You’ve upset me so; I don’t want him to see me in this state.”
“No, I expect not, it would be better to let the wine wear off. You wouldn’t want him to think you were celebrating without him. Well, it’s fine by me, there’s not much left of the night anyway. You can take yourself off in the morning then, but I strongly suggest you leave town as soon as possible before your boyfriend recovers and decides to take revenge.”
He began to whistle under his breath and seemed well pleased with himself, now that he had at last delivered the verbal lashing he thought she deserved. Somehow it seemed to have cleared the air between them, and she tucked her hand into his arm as they walked the last mile through the olive groves.
“I’m sorry for what happened with us, Haziel,” she said. “I know I caused you and Judith a lot of trouble, and you are right about what you said about me. I do seem to have an insatiable need for attention. You have always been good to me, and it is because of you that Rafael is free. I can never thank you enough.”
He patted her hand and grunted, and she understood exactly what he meant.