By the time Stolan and Anna descended into Nazareth through the green maquis of shrubby plants and multicolored carpet of wild flowers, she had learned a great deal about life in Galilee. Her father was enthusiastic about this Roman province—so different from sunbaked Judea.
“Judaism is simpler here,” he explained. “It lacks the intellectual battle that constantly goes on in Jerusalem, splitting Judeans into rival sects. You’ll find that even pagans who settle here tend to adopt our customs. It makes it more comfortable for them to live with us. We are hard-working, but at times an intolerant people.” Stolan laughed. “You have come home at a good time of the year. In this two-season land, the days of rain are past, and the days of sun have begun. Winter has suddenly become summer.”
Anna made no reply. Her attention focused on the swarms of nectar-seeking butterflies in the warm, peaceful air. The quiet charm of the area disappeared as they entered the town’s common orchard where pear, apricot, and olive trees were carefully tended. Further along came narrow, dusty streets, then dwellings; a haphazard succession of white-washed, box-like structures, with outer stairways that led to flat roofs. Each house boasted a small vegetable garden; most had a corral of donkeys; and some even had an ox.
Stolan related, “You’ll discover the people here are more kindly and optimistic than in gloomy, tormented Judea. That’s because we’re a trading center. Everyone wants to exchange goods for the products of our rich soil and the temperate air. We produce a veritable feast of olives, figs, grapes, wheat, barley and walnuts.”
He would have gone on had not a pack of wild dogs, half jackal or wolf, darted past them in pursuit of scurrying rats. Anna found herself amid chaos as she and her father came to the center of town. It seethed and boiled in a babble of innumerable mysterious tongues. Sweating, swarthy men jostled freely with noisy, white traders. Great merchant caravans from the Mediterranean coast rumbled past on their way to Decapolis on the eastern border. Fortunately, the pale-gray Muscat donkeys Anna and Stolan rode were skillful at maneuvering through the crowds.
Anna spoke, “Thank heaven it’s forbidden to sacrifice one of our long-eared servants of Palestine.” Her father nodded in agreement, well aware by now of Anna’s aversion to the temple ritual.
They reached the family home in time for the noonday meal. An anxious, enthusiastic Emerentiana and a sober-faced Sobe greeted them. The emotional and devout Emerentiana wept openly as she embraced Anna. As usual, Sobe was not demonstrative, but did manage a light sisterly kiss on Anna’s cheeks. She then devoted her full attention to her father.
This is understandable, thought Anna. Sobe is tall and a little raw-boned like him. She has his stride and air of authority. Sobe’s straight hair, sullen eyes, and down-turned mouth were a contrast to the luxuriant waves of Anna’s hair, her large topaz eyes, and engaging smile. Sobe pleased only her father.
“Each time I see you, I’m amazed at how you are more beautiful than the last,” Emerentiana said to Anna, her eyes reflecting great pride in her youngest daughter. “You’ve never seen this home have you? Wash up and change quickly into fresh clothes. Our maid-servant, Isabel, will prepare a fine meal for us. Your return has made me feel whole again.”
Anna was conducted into a large, rectangular house where a central hall ran back to the hearth and kitchen. On both sides of the hallway were several rooms, formed by movable, light wickerwork screens. They were topped by open trellis-work that reached only part of the way to the ceiling. Anna could see that one had to whisper not to be heard in adjacent rooms.
“I’m glad to be home,” Anna said shortly. She adored her mother, a woman of elegant manners and mystical yearnings. There had always been a strong bond between the two. Still beautiful with widely-set eyes and deep auburn hair, Emerentiana devoutly spent much of her time in mediation and prayer. Her exception to this practice was on the day before the Sabbath, when she visited the poor in the city. As did other women in the area, she secretly wished to have a son, one who might even be the long-awaited Messiah. If having all daughters disappointed her, she never spoke of it. She dutifully accepted it as God’s will.
Her middle daughter, Esmeria, was married and lived in Ain Karim, a village west of Jerusalem. A buxom, jolly mother of three daughters, Esmeria had never shown spiritual leanings. Because of this, she had rarely visited Anna at the temple. Emerentiana never passed judgment on Esmeria’s life, or for that matter any of the grandchildren. Her three daughters were definitely different from each other, and as a devoted mother, she was the one member of the family who understood Anna best.
When alone, Anna told her mother about her terrifying encounter with the brigand. Emerentiana’s eyebrows arched as Anna continued telling of the invisible shield thrown around her when she called on Elijah. Anna realized that this would stretch most people’s imagination, but she still blurted out all that had happened.
“Do you believe me, Emi?” Anna asked anxiously.
Emerentiana searched Anna’s anxious face. Was this a young girl’s fantasy? Anna always seemed levelheaded in everything she said and did. If it was true, why hadn’t Stolan said something? If it had happened as she said, he would proudly relate how, once again, Elijah had come to his family’s rescue. After all, he truly believed that Elijah had helped him through dangerous times in the past. But Anna’s face seemed so sincere. No, this was not her imagination. Emerentiana had always felt that Anna was special, but maybe that was just a mother’s opinion. If Anna spoke truthfully, it could only mean that Elijah had helped for a special purpose. Emerentiana took several minutes to think the matter through. As she looked in Anna’s face, she became increasingly convinced that this was a matter needing further study by persons more familiar with revelations.
“I believe you daughter,” Emerentiana said, taking Anna’s hands in her own. “This marvelous experience needs to be studied deeper. I believe it appropriate for the holy monks on Mount Carmel. Let’s see what we can learn from them about your future. After the meal, I will talk to your father and suggest a trip for us soon to Mount Carmel. I’ll ask that our man-servant, Gideon, accompany us.”
The family gathered for the noon meal, and after the blessing of the bread, Isabel served great bowls of lentils and freshly-fried mullets.
Back from talking with others in the town, a grave faced Stolan began, “I wonder if Jerusalem is not already lost,” he began. “I fear that our hatred of the Romans will force some of our people to aid rather than fight the Parthian invaders. These people foolishly haven’t reckoned with Mark Antony and Cleopatra. I think it will be Rome’s legionnaires who will finally decide who rules Judea. This could mean that Jews will be once again pitted against Jews.”
Sobe asked, “Do you think that Antony will reject this puppet, Antigonus the Idumean? If so, whom then do you think they’d name as King of Judea?”
“Our ambitious Governor of Galilee, Herod” he replied flatly. “After all, he is the son of Antipater, who has just been poisoned.”
Emerentiana raised her eyes and spoke to everyone in an uncustomary voice. “God forbid that an Arab should rule our Holy City! We know what they did to the farmers around here who refused to pay Rome’s excessive taxes. Crucifixion for all! Herod is a wily opportunist.”
Looking directly at Stolan, she continued, “It’s imperative that I consult about family matters with the prophets at Mount Carmel. I know you haven’t time to leave town with this crisis arising, but Anna and Gideon could go with me. Don’t you agree the advice of the monks would be helpful to all of our people at this time?”
“I approve of your taking Anna,” Stolan began, “but not Gideon. He must help me warn the people of Galilee about these dangerous events in Palestine. No, take Ezra with you. I would feel more confident with him along.”
Sobe, miffed at being excluded, spoke in a lightly bitter tone of voice. “Well, I can leave my work here,” she began. “Isabel can take over my duties. I have never been to the sacred mount and would like to go.”
Stolan smiled lovingly at her. “No, dear Sobe, your work here is more important. Your practical wisdom and knowledge of astrology can help us too. We need you here.”
Sobe was content with Stolan’s remark, much to Anna’s relief. She had always wanted to visit Mount Carmel’s monastery where devout Essene men and prophets trained lay people in divine inspiration. It was commonly said that it was where Elijah had worked so many wonders and miracles that he had to found a school of prophets.
“Oh Emi,” cried Anna silently, “thank you for understanding my needs now. And dear Abba thank you for not sending Sobe with us.”
Anna was so deep in thought that Stolan had to repeat his request twice before she realized he was speaking to her. “Anna, Anna, go to Ezra today and ask him to take my place on this trip to Carmel. You and your mother will go in eight days, as soon as Passover ends. Tomorrow we eat the matsah, just as our ancestors did when they fled Egypt. I will order a yearling lamb to be sacrificed on the fourteenth day of Nissan.” Stolan stroked his beard and continued, “God rewards the faithful and punishes their enemies. Tomorrow will be the Night of Watching, when all of us eat of the paschal sacrifice as God holds vigil over Israel.”
Anna smiled. Her father was in his glory when expounding on the history of the Hebrews. Every year, he explained the history of Passover as if his family knew nothing of this most important festival.
“May I go to Ezra now, Abba?” Anna asked when the family had finished the meal.
“Of course,” Stolan replied. “I must get to the House of Prayer also.” Turning to Emerentiana he said, “I will need to work there tonight, too.”
Anna understood why her father had little time to spend with his family. His days and much of his evenings were spent copying the sacred scriptures, studying the Torah and making decisions for the local worshippers. He was a driven man, spending every spare moment translating holy writings into Aramaic. Scribes were singled out by Yahweh, the Almighty, to explain the complex Torah.
Stolan left at once. Emerentiana shook her head sadly. “I see so little of him, Anna. He is inundated with people who need his approval. His life is not his own: ‘Is it permissible to eat an egg laid on the Sabbath?’ ‘Should one ever sleep on his stomach?’ ‘Might a woman comb her hair on the Holy Day?’ Your father is sent scurrying to find answers within the body of the Law. You can understand why rearing our daughters has been my sole province.”
Whenever her mother had visited Anna at the temple, she proudly emphasized Stolan’s position in the community. He was learned in all three divisions of the Torah; he lectured on them, taught the Law to school-age boys, and debated it constantly with his peers. Since his interpretations were seldom disputed, what he claimed was constantly quoted as oral tradition and considered almost as valid as the written Law. It was an awesome responsibility. How then, Anna asked herself, could she disobey his plans for her life and follow her own feelings on becoming a healer?
She realized that between her father and Ezra’s counsel, she preferred Ezra’s outlook, which dealt with meditation, healing, and making contact with her own soul. He frequently discussed these subjects with her when visiting the temple. He was a surrogate father, and she loved him dearly. She especially liked his deep intellect and probing philosophical nature. A widower in his fifties, Ezra made his home in Nazareth, a way station of sorts for other Essenes traveling between their settlements at Qumran on the Dead Sea and those on the Sea of Galilee. The Essenes, besides obeying the precepts of the Torah, had other beliefs. They ate no meat, wore only white garments, bathed several times a day in cold water, never kept servants or slaves, and had profound knowledge of the art of healing. She felt more and more drawn to their philosophy.
Sobe’s sharp inquiring voice pulled Anna away from her reverie. She stared at Anna intently. “I had a strong premonition of disaster about you concerning your trip home from Jerusalem. Both the planets and the numbers told me you were in danger. Did something happen?”
“I’m sorry Sobe, but life doesn’t always please the whim of stars.” said Anna carefully. “Perhaps you heard about the attacks of the Parthians. Luckily, Father and I got home safely.”
Sobe was not put off easily. “You are in a period of danger, Anna. I don’t think you should go to Mount Carmel. I’ll speak to Abba. After all you’ve just had a long journey home,” she continued in a persuasive tone.
“That’s all right,” Anna answered calmly. “I’ll be rested by the time we’re ready to leave.” She loved her chameleon-like sister, but suspected there was a reason for Sobe’s jealousy. Each had been born in Bethlehem, but only Anna, of the three daughters, had been sent for temple training. Their parents had known that Sobe would rebel against the rigorous spiritual training there, and had decided to find her a rich husband when she was thirteen. Sobe was eager to marry, openly thinking that she might have the opportunity to possibly bear the long-awaited Messiah. Her intended, Nathan ben Simon, a widower, age forty-five also had hope of fathering the promised deliverer of the Jews. He had had one happy marriage, so was prone to overlook Sobe’s short comings and plain features. At the time of their marriage, Anna had hoped life would be happy for both of them and the rivalry between them would deminish.
Unfortunately, a disaster occurred. A month after their marriage, Nathan and his two brothers went fishing on the Sea of Galilee. An unexpected, violent storm swept down from the surrounding mountains and capsized their small boat. All were drowned.
The tragic event changed Sobe. She became caustic and irritable. Being childless, she would have married her deceased husband’s oldest brother under the law of levirate marriage. But in this case, there was no man left in the family.
After Nathan’s unexpected death, Sobe moved into the family home to help with her mother’s duties. She quickly became expert at hiring and firing serving maids. She was well-known for her promptness in delivering food each week to the hungry. If allowed, Anna suspected, Sobe would thoroughly enjoy following her father’s directives and become a relentless and driving teacher in many areas. This wouldn’t be all bad. Anna knew she was weak in Hebrew, the holy tongue used only when speaking to God, and felt she expected to do a lot of talking with him in pleading for healing power.
Anna decided to take the initiative with Sobe to improve their relationship. Stolan had left for the House of Prayer; Emerentiana was in the garden meditating.
She faced her sister. “Will you join me at the altar to give thanks for our protection on the way home?” Anna had the help of Elijah in mind and was pleased that Sobe nodded readily in agreement.
The sisters moved to an area near the kitchen, hidden behind two dark blue curtains. Anna was surprised that the house was so functional. It could be changed at will into as many bedrooms as needed. With a small change in the placement of the partitions, a huge dining area or a social room for celebrations could be made.
Sobe lit a candle, and the two sisters dropped to their knees on a cushioned stool before the altar. Sobe removed a small carved chest from a niche in the wall. Inside, she explained to Anna, was a bit of hair once belonging to Sara, the wife of Abraham and mother of Isaac. Anna lovingly touched the venerated relic. Next to it was a bone supposed to have belonged to Joseph, the first son of Rachel and Jacob. Stolan, who had inherited both items from his parents, claimed Moses had brought them from Egypt.
“Sobe, what is this white goblet?” Anna asked.
“Abraham, founder of our faith, drank from this very cup,” she replied reverently. “Being the oldest child, I expect to inherit these priceless treasures.”
“I hope you’ll let me look at them from time to time,” Anna replied simply. “Now, let us pray silently. Maybe we will receive a sign.”
Anna prayed for two things: for God to delay any possible marriage for her and for the Great Ones—like Elijah—in the heaven world to teach her the secrets of curing disease and healing the mentally ill.
After a little while, Sobe spoke. “No answer of approval or condemnation has come from these holy objects. I wonder who blocked the signs from God? The same thing happened when our sister Esmeria saw her recently.”
Anna smiled, saying, “We may never know, Sobe.” She suddenly realized why Stolan had never been able to find Sobe a second husband. Stolan had thought he had done so, but the prospective bridegroom preferred the middle sister, Esmeria, creating a rift between the two sisters that still remained.
Anna arose and said to Sobe, “Father said I am to go to Ezra today.” It was excuse enough for seeing Ezra, so she went to her room to get a head scarf and another pair of sandals. She was eager to relate to Ezra the events of her earlier life-saving experience while on the road to Jericho.
Emerentiana reentered the home with Isabel. Thinking that only the two were alone in the house, Isabel spoke. “My lady, I know your husband is searching for a husband for Sobe, but don’t you think it’s time he also found a husband for Anna. It shouldn’t be hard. She so takes after you—the same beautiful face and warm, hazel eyes. That abundant hair reaches almost to her waist. Men go crazy over long, shining hair.”
Emerentiana replied to Isabel simply. “Anna is my favorite. But not because of the loveliness you mentioned. She is the spiritual one.”
The two women were startled as Sobe stepped unexpectedly into the hall. With eyes blazing, she obviously had overheard their conversation. She walked past Emerentiana and Isabel without a glance. Both feared the overheard words would fester in Sobe’s mind and, at some inopportune moment, explode.
* * *
A short distance from Stolan’s was Ezra’s house, a duplicate of others in Nazareth. He kept his ground immaculate with well-tended bushes and trees. Anna was happy to be able to visit him alone, since she wanted to converse with him about divine protection, healing and making contact with one’s soul. She was so engrossed in thinking about what she would say that she was startled to suddenly have her way blocked by an imposing Roman official.
The man, dressed in a short white toga edged with wide gold braid, asked curtly, “Who are you? Where are you going?”
Anna was momentarily speechless. She looked into two brilliant green eyes that seemed to cut slits in a square-jawed, clean-shaven face. Short, blond curls covered the official’s head. With voice trembling, she managed to answer, “I am Anna bat Stolan. My father is the sopher in the House of Prayer. I am on an errand to a family friend.”
“And this friend’s name?” His voice pierced her.
“Ezra ben Samuel.”
“Oh him,” the stranger frowned distastefully. “I spoke with him recently. The man is in his dotage. He wasn’t much help.”
Anna noticed the round, golden emblem on the man’s left shoulder. It was an eagle encircled by a laurel wreath—the badge of an official from Rome. His full, sensuous lips parted with amusement. It was obvious he was enjoying her discomfort. His stern eyes traveled from her gentle, flushed face, across her high bosom, and back again. He began speaking in Greek, and when she frowned, shifted to Aramaic.
“I am the data gatherer, Julian—newly appointed by Mark Antony,” he began expansively.
Anna looked at the official cautiously. She had been told that, each year, the inhabitants of Palestine registered with the data gatherer so their tax assessments could be calculated. As Roman contempt for the Jews increased, so did their taxes. Those who couldn’t pay the exorbitant fees had land confiscated, and families were sometimes forced into slavery. She quietly warned herself not to antagonize this man.
She remained silent, uncertain of what to say in the face of this authority. Young girls were forbidden to visit on the street with any man, let alone an appointee of all-powerful Rome. As she started to move around him, Julian again blocked her path. She stopped, not daring to make him angry.
Julian spoke in a more conciliatory tone. “You appear to be a spirited young woman, and, I suspect, highly intelligent. You can be of service in helping me understand this part of the Empire.”
Anna’s lowered eyes fastened on his tanned, muscular legs, then dropped to his ironclad sandals. She dared not look at his face. The air about him was electric with power. She felt the full might of his forceful animal magnetism. He took a step toward her, and for a moment, she feared he might put his hands on her. Scowling, she stepped back from him, only to be met with an amused expression from his haughty eyes.
Julian folded his massive arms on his chest, then continued ingratiatingly. “Don’t fear me, daughter of Stolan. I need information on an important subject. When I was in Gaul recently, I met many travelers from Asia. They forecast an imminent event of earth-shaking proportions to take place in this part of the world. Our Roman priesthood has been studying the oracles, and some members have received confirmation of these rumors. It is my duty to Rome to learn what the people of Nazareth know of this happening.”
Anna realized he was speaking of the coming Messiah, but she was not about to be trapped into talking with this heathen. It struck her that Ezra must have been asked the same question and had pretended ignorance. She recalled a recent remark by her father that would serve her now.
She answered, “Your great Cicero was an avowed enemy of superstition. Yet, in his ‘Treaty of Divination,’ he wrote about just such a foreboding. Is superstition what you mean?”
If Julian was struck by her sharp answer, he concealed it by airily dismissing her words. “Cicero has just been murdered, so what he said probably won’t be held important any longer.” The Roman became almost affable now. “With a sopher for a father, you must know what he’s teaching and how he interprets these mounting rumors.”
“Why then, sir, don’t you ask my father?”
“It’s more pleasant to get information from a beautiful woman,” he said silkily. Turning to one side, he continued, “I recently talked with a colony of trading Jews in Rome. They actually believe a new king is about to appear in Palestine. He will conquer the world and reunite all nations in a Golden Age. I suppose your father thinks this monarch has already been born?”
Anna fell into the Roman’s sly trap. “No,” she replied emphatically. “He is not yet born.” Realizing her error in the outburst she ducked to one side and continued on towards Ezra’s house.
Jubilant in getting an unexpected admission, the Roman walked alongside and continued pressing for information. “It’s strange that our Roman oracles are silent on telling what sign will announce the coming of this sovereign. What do your Davids and Isaiahs forecast?”
Anna was surprised that an answer to his question formed in her mind as she parried his question. “Rome must be full of astrologers and soothsayers from all parts of the world. Wouldn’t that be the logical place to search for the answers you seek?”
“Unfortunately, no,” he answered, amused by her challenge. “But I have my own opinion, of course,” Julian laughed smugly, as his steely-green eyes looked at Anna, “that this demigod you are expecting has already been born! I’ll even tell you his name. It’s Octavianus of Rome!”
“But your Octavian wasn’t born in Judea as our prophets have promised,” Anna blurted out, then bit her lip, regretting the impulsive statement. This Roman was a definite challenge, but she suddenly realized she was intensely curious about other nationalities’ thoughts, especially Romans.
“You’re wrong,” Julian continued emphatically. “We would have no problem in claiming that Octavian was born in Judea, for is this province not now a vassal of Rome?”
Anna flushed with embarrassment at his cleverness. Again, she lowered her head subserviently, seeing only the widespread legs of her inquisitor.
Julian shifted his voice to a softer tone as he caressed each word. “I intend to know your people well. It’s my duty, of course. We will meet often, lovely daughter of Stolan, for I intend to make you my teacher here.” He smiled for the first time, then stepped aside.
Anna hurried on, shaken by the encounter and anxious to report this meeting to Ezra. As she reached his door, she touched the sacred mezuzah, kissed her fingers, then looked back. Julian still remained where she had left him, watching her.
There was no answer to her knock on the door. She called Ezra’s name. No response. The urgency of her visit and the fact the Roman had just spoken with him impelled Anna to carefully push open the door. There on the floor lay the motionless figure of Ezra.
Dropping beside him, she felt for a pulse in his neck. There was no sign of life. Anna ran from the house, beckoning wildly to Julian.