Hannah and Miriam

By David Linwood

The Women Who Founded Christianity A Trilogy
Volume 1
Hannah and Miriam
by
David Linwood



An historical novel of a Judaean family during the reign of Augustus Caesar.

Chapters 1 5

Hannah is a skilled physician and surgeon who maintains a clinic at her home. Her daughter, Miriam, is

apprenticed to Hannah, learning the medical arts, and apothecary skills. Hannahs husband, Joachim, is a timber

merchant.

Because of the incursion of self-serving warlords and bandits in the countryside, Joachim must constantly defend

his ox trains while hauling the timbers to market. Joachim and the Roman Tribune Cornelius join forces to ambush

the principal, notorious bandit Judas ben Hezekiah. After the ambush, Miriam performs difficult surgeries in the

field, and saves the life of a severely wounded friend.

Chapters 6 11

Miriam reveals to Hannah, that she has been visited by the Angel Gabriel. The angel has announced that Miriam

will give birth to a son, Joshua, and that he will be an exceptional child, dedicated to a great purpose.
When Joachim is informed by Hannah of the Annunciation of Gabriel, he immediately warns Hannah that Miriam is in

great danger. Unscrupulous competitors of Joachim in Sepphoris will bring the ultra-orthodox authorities down on

Miriams head if she reveals that she is with child, and not lawfully betrothed or married. The authorities will

laugh her to scorn if she reveals her visitation by Gabriel. They will have her flogged for adultery, and sent to a

madhouse or even stoned.

To protect his daughter, Joachim suggests that a long-time business associate of his, Yosef of Nazareth, a

carpenter and house builder, might be interested in a betrothal. Miriam is apprised of her fathers plan, and agrees

to withhold judgment until she has had a chance to meet Yosef and see what kind of person he is.

Joachim, Hannah and Miriam travel to Nazareth under the pretext of visiting Yosefs medicinal herb garden. The

garden belonged to Yosefs wife, Deborah, who died in childbirth. Yosef welcomes them to his home. He reveals that

he has been visited in a special dream, by the Angel Gabriel, who told him that Joachim and Hannah and Miriam

would be coming to visit, and they would ask him to consider a betrothal with Miriam.

Miriam has been watching Yosef closely since they arrived at his house. She is greatly drawn to him, both

physically as a mature, handsome man, and also as a very spiritual person. She announces that she agrees to be

betrothed and married to Yosef, if he is willing. Yosef is likewise greatly attracted to the young, beautiful girl,

Miriam, and admits he has been so very lonely since his Deborah died three years previously. He agrees to a

betrothal which is a lawful trial marriage that includes the possibility of children and that will protect Miriam

from the ultra-orthodox authorities.

Yosef, with Miriam and her parents, visits Rabbi Shmuel ben Zeroah in Nazareth, to be betrothed.

Chapters 12 16

Yosef with Miriam, and Joachim with Hannah, and their other children, Chavah and Yeshai, travel to Jerusalem for

the Passover Holiday. Miriam and Joseph are wedded in Jerusalem.

Chapters 16 23

King Herod has begun to seize every prominent man in the cities all through Judaea. He has not harmed them but

has imprisoned them. None of the men has opposed Herod in any way. The economy of Judaea becomes greatly depressed

and the flow of taxes to Rome is reduced to a mere trickle of gold. Herod does not care he is dying. He knows th

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 15, 2007
• ISBN: 9781462835706

David Linwood

This Volume I of his forthcoming trilogy marks the first professional offering of David A. Linwood. Dr. Linwood obtained his formal training in literary writing during his years of study at the University of Chicago. He has prepared for this particular writing task over a period of ten years with background research based principally on Josephus’ Antiquities, and The Jewish Wars. The material on Herod, the Great, is written in the context of actual historical events. The personae of Hannah and Miriam and their families are drawn from well-known people who lived in the era of the Second Jewish Commonwealth.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The Brigand

All through the evening, at the farewell prayers to Shabbat—the Havdalah—and afterward into the still, dark hours of late night and early morning, Miriam’s thoughts fled wildly from image to image. Her face was flushed, her pulse pounded relentlessly. Hannah bathed her brow with a soft cloth dipped into cool water, holding the young woman tenderly in her arms and speaking softly. Miriam lay with her head on Hannah’s shoulder, whispering her fevered thoughts to her mother, hour after hour.

Hannah sat on the bed and held her daughter closely, kept her wrapped against the chill night air. She listened to the wild stories of war, betrayal and destruction. She heard the prophecies, enunciated in a Hebrew that was not Miriam speaking at all, but some angel, or perhaps an adversary—a fallen angel. It went on and on for hours.

At last, Miriam’s voice faltered. Her pulse slowed. Hannah was relieved; finally, her daughter was quiet, warm, and slipping off to sleep. Gently, she put Miriam on her side, put the warm quilt over her, and kissed her good night. Say your prayers, Miriam. Enough for one night. Sunup will bring lots of work to do. Go to sleep, my love.

Miriam drew the quilt up to her cheek murmuring drowsily, Goodnight, mother. Thank you for listening to my stories. I feel better when I tell someone about them. You are my dearest friend. I love you.

Miriam snuggled up against her little sister, Chavah, who was deep asleep. Miriam also fell silent, asleep. After a long, restful pause Hannah opened the shutter to the bedroom window. The starlight shone in, flooding their faces with silvery light. Hannah touched each daughter’s face gently, then stepped out of the room and closed the door.

She sat alone for a long while at the kitchen table, in the dark.

"It is so. I am her dearest friend. We have always been close. There is some special bond I do not have with the other two children. Miriam is not even the youngest. And it has nothing to do with the others two being adopted. I love them both dearly—with all my heart. It is just something—something like a kindred soul. I have always felt paired with Miriam’s soul. An echo. Yes, that’s it. She is like an echo—no, stronger than an echo—a reflection of my inmost soul.

But what are these waking nightmares she is having? So many of them. Could it be an illness—some strange disease I haven’t heard of?"

Hannah reviewed the possibilities. I have treated the sickness of brain fever and the trembling of limbs, the writhing, and the foaming at the mouth, the biting and the swallowing of the tongue. I have seen the arching of the back turned rigid as iron.

She shook her head. But this is none of those vicious illnesses. The nightmares do not incapacitate her, but they frighten her and upset her at night when she is falling asleep. And even during the day.

Hannah rose from the table and went to the bedroom. She undressed, put on her nightgown, and slipped into bed. She said her prayers, and within a few minutes she slept soundly.

The night passed as the stars slowly wheeled about the pole star. All was quiet and peace. And just at sunrise, as usual, Hannah awoke. She listened for sounds that Miriam might be awake. Nothing. Still asleep. She sat up, enjoyed a few minutes of the dawn splashed across the sky, and softly intoned her morning prayer. I am grateful to You, living, enduring King, for restoring my soul to me in compassion. You are faithful beyond measure.

Then she rose, washed and dressed. As Hannah finished straightening the bed-clothes, she heard the sound of a horseman approaching along the back yard pathway. In a few moments she heard a tap-tapping at the kitchen door. Joachim was away on business and she was apprehensive. She was not expecting any visitors.

Hannah glanced out the window at the young man standing in the doorway. Good! She knew him. She opened the door and spoke softly with the young man for a few minutes, then invited him to have breakfast with the family. But he thanked her and hurried off on his errands. Hannah closed the door as the rider mounted and rode down the pathway to the road below.

Hannah thought for a moment. She went to Joachim’s writing table, took parchment and pen, and wrote two messages. Then she returned to Miriam’s bedside. Putting her hand on her daughter’s face to waken her, So lovely, she thought, Was I ever so lovely at fourteen? Miriam woke silently and smiled up at her mother, then looked around. What is it, mother? Is something wrong? You look worried.

Hannah shook her head. "No, nothing’s wrong. But Yeshai is gone with Cappy and Pudge, gathering strays out in the fields and we have an important message to deliver to your father. He is coming from Ptolemais, and should be at the great crossroads south of Jotapata this afternoon some time. I have a message from a rider just a few minutes ago. His master wishes to buy twelve large cedar timbers for the construction at K’far Nahum. Once your father is here, south of the crossroads, he will have to retrace his footsteps northwards and uphill with the heavy timbers to deliver them back at the crossroads. We can save him a great deal of time and expense if he leaves the twelve timbers at the crossroads bypass with a guard. I have written messages for father here. There are two copies.

How are you feeling, my love? You talked for a long time—hours. You must be weary. Do you think you can get a message to Yeshai this morning or perhaps by early afternoon?"

Miriam sat up in bed slowly, and rubbed her eyes. I’m all right, Mother. The visions are gone. Yes, I think I can manage that errand—and in fact it would be good for me to get some exercise and fresh air to clear my head.

Hannah showed Miriam the parchment squares with the messages she had written, and put them on the table by Miriam’s bed. Come quickly and have your breakfast. Miriam was excited, But mother, I can ride Fuzzy over to the crossroads bypass and deliver the message myself. We don’t have to bother Yeshai."

Hannah smiled at her daughter’s enthusiasm, I’m afraid Fuzzy’s short little legs couldn’t get there in time. He’s a sturdy, patient beast, but it would take him all day. Yeshai can make it on Cappy with an hour of hard riding. Please don’t feel sad. I hope you understand.

Miriam looked downcast, but agreed.

Yeshai is supposed to stop at two places today—at the high meadow stream-crossing by mid-morning and at the old harvesters’ booths on the north plantation by noon. Leave one of these messages at the stream-crossing if he’s not there and go on to the harvest booths and wait there until an hour past noon. If you can’t find him, leave the second message and come straight home. You are not to run off into the woods searching for him. That would be hopeless. And Miriam… , Hannah looked earnestly into her daughter’s eyes. . . . , keep Fuzzy on the woods pathways. You are to stay off the main roads. There are too many rough strangers on the road and you are only a young girl. Do you understand?

Yes, Mama, I understand. Hannah couldn’t resist grabbing her daughter and giving her a big hug. Get dressed and come into the kitchen and help me with breakfast.

Hannah left Miriam and went to the kitchen. She stoked up the banked fire in the hearth and hung a pot of water over the embers to boil.

Miriam rose and hurried, saying her prayers as she dressed. The thoughts and the stories in the long ordeal of last night still echoed faintly—but she pushed them aside. Washing and combing, she put on the light gray tunic that came down to her ankles, put on her sandals, and fastened the cloth girdle at her waist. She carefully fastened a slim leather wallet inside the girdle and inserted the parchment squares containing the messages for Yeshai to take, then hurried out of her bedroom into the kitchen.

The water in the pot was simmering and Hannah was stirring in the cakes of cooked porridge that had been saved from yesterday’s morning meal. In a few minutes the aroma of the hot cereal filled the kitchen. Miriam set the table and brought down a pitcher of fresh milk from the shelf. She sniffed the pitcher and smiled. The milk was warm and fresh. Yeshai had milked the goats early that morning before he left for the fields.

Hannah and Miriam sat and spooned the steaming porridge from the pot into their bowl and poured milk over it. They sat and ate silently. Hannah finished first and rose to collect food and drink for Miriam’s trip. She returned with some parcels. Take this skin of water. Here are cakes and fruit for lunch. Just deliver those messages and come straight home. If you can’t find Yeshai leave the messages in the usual place, where he can find them. I want you back early this afternoon whether or not you find Yeshai. Understand? Miriam stuffed the last of the porridge into her mouth and shook her head in agreement.

Hannah and Miriam took a few brief moments to say grace for the simple meal. Miriam then took the parcels Hannah had prepared and ran out the kitchen door to the stable in the back yard, yelling, Fuzzy! Come on Fuzzy, we have a long ride this morning.

The little donkey stood patiently in his stall, munching hay, regarding her with surprised interest. He brayed softly when Miriam entered his stall. She gave him a pat on the nose and tied a small saddle onto his back. Miriam fastened the water skin, her lunch parcel and her medicine bag behind the saddle, then checked her belt pouch to make sure the message parchments were still there. They were all right. She slipped the halter over the little donkey’s head and fastened it under his chin, then led him into the stable yard. Miriam tied her scarf around her head and pulled it forward against the bright sunlight, then mounted.

Hannah stood in the gateway and cautioned her daughter again before she left the yard, Miriam, don’t ride too hard. Fuzzy is getting on in years. You will tire him out before you get half-way if you push him. Let him take his own pace. You have plenty of time if you ride carefully at a modest pace. And Miriam… , her voice was low and insistent as she held the donkey’s halter while she delivered her final instructions, again I warn you. Stay away from the main road. It is not likely that any stranger will use the woods path, but if you should hear riders coming along the path take Fuzzy into the woods quickly and hide until they pass.

Miriam, anxious to be off on her adventure, nodded vigorously. Hannah let go the bridle and Miriam urged the little donkey out onto the path leading upward to the high meadow. She waved goodbye. Hannah closed the gate, also waved goodbye, and turned back toward the kitchen.

Miriam, mindful of her mother’s instructions, let Fuzzy set his own pace on the upward trail. Soon they were on the dusty path leading along the ridge up to the woods. As the little donkey ambled along, Miriam half turned in the saddle to see Sepphoris spread out along the ridges and up the slopes from the plain below. She could still see the blackened scars in the town where buildings had been burned down in the fierce fighting between the Romans and Judas’ terrorists the previous month.

Everywhere on the slopes there were orchards and vineyards. In the rich Esdraelon plain below, the fields were starting to burgeon with wheat, flax and hay. Along the ridge line wound the main road through Sepphoris, past the imposing palace of Herod, and on down toward the valley, past her father’s warehouses, untouched by the fighting.

Miriam thought, Father stores the great trees and timbers from Phoenicia and Lebanon there in the warehouses and transports the timbers all over the world. South and westward from the great crossroads, floated along the river and carried by wagon, shipped by sea from Ptolemais to Caesarea or Joppa and thence to Jerusalem by wagon. The timbers are shipped along the Mediterranean coast to build the great palaces and homes in Alexandria, in Athens and in Rome. South and eastward, the timbers are transported across the Esdraelon valley by wagon to build the temples and great homes in Scythopolis. North and eastward from the great crossroads, the ox-trains carry the heavy timbers to be sold along the Kinnereth and into Syria—and even into Parthia, and beyond.

For an hour she looked out across the fields and valleys of the Galilee as the donkey made his way upward into the rough woodlands. To the east she could see the white clouds forming over the Kinnereth. She felt so happy she started to sing to the blue sky a heartfelt prayer, Blessed art Thou, oh Lord, our G_d, Master of the Universe, who has protected us and defended us and brought us to this happy day. She started to laugh.

But at that moment her thoughts flowed back to the previous evening, when she had slowly come under the spell of the terrible messages pouring into her mind. She began to dwell on the stories as the donkey took his own head against the loosened reins. There had been a battle—between the Romans and the Galileans. She was not sure, but the Galilean city being attacked by the Romans was likely Jotapata. Yes, it was Jotapata! She could still see the tall battlements and the thick walls of the besieged city. Somehow she knew it must be Jotapata, north and west by more than a league from where she was at this moment. She saw, in her visions, the Romans attacking, again and again, only to be cut down by clouds of swift, powerful arrows that smashed through the moving wooden shelters and the thick hides and pierced their armor.

Miriam struggled to clear her mind of the rising tide of bloody images. Her laughter began to turn to tears, and she prayed for release from the horror. Miriam reined in Fuzzy and concentrated on her prayers. The images began to fade. At last she felt better. A fresh breeze blew gently across her face, and helped clear her head. She urged Fuzzy forward, and they settled into an easy walk. The images were gone.

At length they passed from the open path of the slopes into the scattered brush just before the woods. Here the valley could be seen only briefly between the trees, and the woods closed in. All was silent, but for the clop-clop of the donkey’s hooves and the hum of insects in the morning sunlight.

Miriam looked back at the sun climbing the sky as they traveled the northbound path into the woodland. When the sun’s orb reached halfway to its zenith Miriam knew it was mid-morning and she began to listen for the sounds of a stream falling through its rocky course down the wooded slope. Finally, the woods opened into a broad upland meadow and across the meadow Miriam caught the glint of sunlight on water and heard the melody of the brook tumbling downward.

Fuzzy hurried his pace, anticipating a cool drink in the stream. They crossed the meadow glade and stood on the bank of the stream. Dismounting, Miriam stretched and rubbed to relieve the stiffness in her legs and back. She checked the parcel of food and water, untouched behind the pommel, and the wallet in her girdle with its messages. All was intact. Leading Fuzzy by the halter, she found a shallow sandy place just upstream of the path and led the donkey to a clear backwater where he could drink without entering the stream and fouling it. Tying his halter to a branch, Miriam opened the message wallet and removed one of the parchments. The beautiful Aramaic letters lay neatly across the skin, giving instructions for Yeshai to follow and a message for her father about the trees to be left at the K’far Nahum bypass, a league and a half to the north.

Upstream, Miriam found another clearing. A makeshift corral was there, where Yeshai had put up a temporary fence to hold the strays. There were three sheep in the corral lying contentedly in the grassy shade under a tree. The message tree was just a few yards downstream where the footing became pebbly and the main ford crossed. On a wooden shelf in the crotch of the message tree, Miriam saw a parchment under a large rock. She extracted the parchment from under the rock and spread it open on her lap as she sat by the stream. It was Yeshai’s message. He had just been there and corralled the three strays. He was on his way to the lower meadow to look for more. Then he would head for the harvest booths down the hillside where the fields came up from the valley.

Miriam thought for a while. If Yeshai finds more strays in the lower meadow he will come back here with them and put them with the others. But if he doesn’t find any strays he will cut across the hillside and down to the harvest booths. He will have to make his own trail through the scrub. My trail to the booths is more direct and along a beaten pathway, so that if I go now I can reach the booths before he does. In any case I will leave a message here.

Miriam took Yeshai’s message and spread it out like a flag to draw her brother’s attention. She placed her own parchment square on the shelf with a large rock to hold both messages down. It was their agreed upon signal for exchanging messages. Hurrying, Miriam splashed water on her face and drank from the stream. Then she untied Fuzzy, mounted, and the donkey clattered across the pebbly ford onto the woodland path on the other side of the stream. The path led downward, and the donkey was refreshed from his drink and the handful of oats Miriam pampered him with. So the clop-clop beat of his hooves quickened.

From time to time Miriam called out to her brother, Yeshai! Yeshai! It’s Miriam. But no answer came, and after a while, as they neared the fields, Miriam decided it would not be wise to attract unwanted attention. On the downward path there was a clump of trees a short distance off the trail and above a stony bluff. There in the hillside was a shallow overhang in the bluff where one could rest in the shade or avoid getting soaked in a summer rain. Miriam decided to ride off the path and rest there for a few minutes. There was an outlook at the top of the bluff from which she might catch sight of Yeshai in case he was already on the downhill slopes ahead.

Miriam had no sooner dismounted above the bluff and tied Fuzzy to a nearby bush when she heard the sounds of hooves clattering on the trail below the bluff. At first her heart leapt with joy. It was Yeshai coming up the trail! But then, as she listened, Miriam thought better of it. Yeshai would not be coming back this way—not this soon. And besides, the sounds were of galloping, and there were several horses.

Scrambling up to where Fuzzy was tied Miriam led the animal further into the deep brush and bedded him down in a shady patch where he was nearly invisible. Then she returned to the promontory above the bluff and silently crept to the edge. She slightly parted the branches of the overhanging brush. On the trail below, Miriam saw three horsemen had cornered a fourth against the stone precipice. They did not seem to be in any hurry now.

The cornered man was on a huge chestnut steed. A black beard and wild hair covered his chest and his bare head. He was armed with a large Damascus sword and a heavy shield. He kept swinging the sword in a long, lazy arc that flashed in the sunlight, first on one side of his horse and then the other. It was clear that his horse was spent. Miriam could see the chestnut was bathed in sweat and was foaming at the mouth and nostrils. The horse’s great chest heaved with labored breath and its mouth was open.

Facing the cornered man was a Roman officer clad in half-armor with his brush-topped helmet strapped tightly under his chin. He had a short sword at his belt, still sheathed, and carried at the ready in his right hand a pilum, a sturdy iron javelin with a razor-tipped point. On his left arm he wore a small round shield. The second horseman was mounted lightly also, but had on a visored cloth cap. He held a pilum at the ready, and two spares booted by his saddle. He also bore a light shield on his left arm. The third horseman had just ridden up, and standing some distance away, dismounted. He unsheathed a powerful Persian bow.

The cornered horseman, seeing the threat, rushed toward the dismounted man to cut him down before he could nock the arrow. Anticipating this maneuver, the officer and the other mounted Roman interposed their steeds into the path on each side of the onrushing attack. They extended their javelins to either flank of the oncoming horseman. The attacker was forced to halt his rush or be impaled. One javelin point he caught on the bosses of his shield and the other he struck at with his sword.

The blade bounced off the iron pilum with a glancing blow, but deflected the thrust. The attacker immediately retreated back to the bluff as the two defenders started to circle to his rear.

At a signal from the officer, the other mounted Roman rushed forward and, wheeling across the front of the bearded warrior’s horse, at the last second he thrust his pilum at the exposed thigh. The black-bearded warrior lowered his shield to cover his thigh. Too late he saw the flash of sunlit feathers and heard the flight of the arrow as the dismounted Roman let fly. By reflex, he raised the heavy shield again. The arrow shaft glanced off the top of the rising shield but caught the bearded man just at the point of the jaw. The arrow pierced his throat, passing into his neck.

The black horseman wavered for a moment, the arrow transfixed through his neck, and then collapsed as his shield fell from his grasp to the stony slope. He followed head first as his shield clattered thunderously downhill. The spent chestnut warhorse reared and screamed in fright. The bearded warrior lay in the dust, his dark eyes open and staring at the bright morning sun. And now the Roman with the visored cloth cap dismounted and unsheathed his sword while he stood by the expiring warrior.

The officer commented, in Latin, Hic habet. He’s had it! But wait a minute, Marcellus. He’s still holding his sword. It’s the dead ones that bite you.

Marcellus laughed, You’re right! He’ll keep.

After a few minutes, Marcellus looked intently at the glazed eyes of the slain man, kicked the sword from his hand, then reached down and twined his fingers into the thick black hair of the corpse and turned its head as he drew back his own sword.

Miriam heard herself scream as the Roman, with a single stroke, cut off the head of the fallen man. The Romans glanced upward and saw the frightened face peering out of the bushes above the bluff. Marcellus’ face relaxed into a grin and he lifted the severed head to show her. Don’t worry, Miss. He can’t hurt you now, he called out in a heavily Latinized Aramaic accent.

The officer spurred his horse and in two bounds was up the slope to the top of the bluff at Miriam’s side, looking down at her from horseback. She looked up at his shadowed face, framed by the morning sun, and saw the lightning-stroke scar that coursed across his eyebrows and the bridge of his nose. Miriam fell to her knees in fright at the angry scowl on his face. She expected to be struck down in an instant.

But the Roman officer, after a cursory glance at her and at her little donkey, reined in his horse and dismounted. Fuzzy was tethered nearby, braying softly. Some distance away the other two Romans had tethered their horses and that of the slain man. They were busy with wooden paddles digging a shallow grave, their half-armor loosened and set aside.

The Roman officer removed his helmet and fastened it to his saddle pommel. After tethering his own mount he strode over to where Miriam was kneeling and proffered his hand to help her to her feet. He did not look so threatening. He spoke to her in perfect Aramaic, with no trace of accent.

I am Tribune Cornelius Venantius, military tribune for this area. The man we killed was a bandit. We believe he was a certain Judas ben Hezekiah, who has been preying on the townspeople and commerce in this region. We are commissioned by Caesar Sextus at Damascus to wipe out this band of cutthroats and bring back proof of his death. I am sorry you were witness to so terrible a scene.

Miriam did not take his hand, but stood up and looked about, Is he the same brigand that you trapped last month in Sepphoris? We think he is the same rascal. Miriam was sarcastic, You fellows had to burn down a lot of houses in Sepphoris to get him out of there. Cornelius frowned, Do you live there? No, but a lot of citizens were injured or left homeless by that action."

Cornelius shrugged. This Judas fellow left us no choice. He broke into the royal armory, stole weapons and held some townspeople hostage. He would have slaughtered them if we had not set fire to the armory to drive everyone out. We could not have attacked that fortified position without losing a lot of our soldiers as well as the hostages. We burnt only the armory. Later on, the fire in the town was set by Judas’ men to add to the confusion while they escaped. We were blamed for the larger fire and the destruction in Sepphoris. Cornelius’ face was flushed as he described the Roman action to Miriam.

Miriam shot back, I noticed you hesitated to get in close with Judas again just a little while ago.

Cornelius’ face was dark with controlled anger, Yes, that’s right. One must treat a dangerous enemy with respect and not get too close. He pointed to his scarred face, You see what can happen otherwise.

Miriam looked into that angry face and repented of her harshness. She spoke more softly. I am sorry for my remarks. Please, forgive me. I am still frightened. You acted correctly to save lives and rid us of that gang of brigands. We should be thankful. But because you are Romans and have invaded our country we cannot bring ourselves to offer you our thanks, even when you have earned it.

Cornelius relaxed. His face softened, and the scar coursing his brow began to turn from lightning red to a paler shade. It’s not an easy situation. I know. And by the way, I did not invade your country. I am as native as you are. I was born in Caesarea. This armor belonged to my grandfather. He was the invader. He served with Pompey in the Syrian campaign, and my father settled near Strato’s Tower after Augustus became Emperor. Then Cornelius spoke sternly, But why are you up here at all, instead of staying safe at home?

Miriam introduced herself and explained her errand. Looking up at the sun, risen almost to the zenith, she exclaimed, Oh no! Yeshai won’t get the message in time. It’s almost too late.

Cornelius thought for a moment. I think I know your father. He’s Joachim, the timber merchant from Sepphoris, isn’t he? Miriam exclaimed, The very same. How do you know of him?

My men and I have had profitable contracts with your father. We have served him as mercenaries in our off-duty periods. We provide his caravans with protection against marauders and thieves. He is quite generous and always gives a sizeable bonus if we do well.

Marcellus, overhearing the conversation, strode over to Cornelius and Miriam, So you’re Joachim’s daughter? I’m sorry I frightened you, Miss, with that—that business before. But that’s just what it is, Miss—business. There’s a good reward for us if we return with that head as proof to the Legate at Damascus. We’re giving the rest of the corpse a decent burial over there. He was not a bad fighter, you know. Very brave.

Cornelius had an idea. Marcellus, you are riding up the Phoenicia road to the Damascus fork at Jotapata today, to deliver that ‘package’ to Caesar Sextus. Since you are going that way could you deliver this parchment to Joachim? He is on the Phoenicia road just north of the K’far Nahum bypass. I wouldn’t be surprised if he thanked you for it, if you can deliver it before he gets to the crossroads.

Miriam cried out, Oh, could you, please, Marcellus! Let me write you a note for my father. I know he will reward you. Marcellus shrugged and grunted, Always willing to oblige a young lady. He winked at Cornelius.

Miriam took a quill and a small vial of ink from her belt wallet and inked a message on the back of the parchment Hannah had given her. She handed the parchment to Marcellus and impulsively gave the grizzled soldier a hug. Marcellus’ face reddened in embarrassment at the unexpected, innocent gesture as he strode off, muttering, All right. All right. It’s done.

Cornelius grinned at Marcellus’ discomfiture, and repeated softly, Always willing to oblige a young lady! He then addressed his remarks to Miriam. Don’t mind him, Miss. He’s a rough and ready soldier, but basically a family man. He has a daughter in Jerusalem just a few years older than you. Marcellus mounted his steed, saluted Cornelius, took the bandit’s horse in tow and rode off along the trail to the north.

The third soldier, the one who had shot the brigand with the arrow, came down to join the conversation. He was a dark-skinned, graceful and slender man with a slightly Oriental cast to his face. Cornelius introduced him. This is Ashur, the Parthian—First Cohort Ashur, my companion and fellow trooper. He served with my father also. He is chief of the archers in this prefecture. We have campaigned together for a number of years. Cornelius then briefly spoke in Greek to Ashur, explaining that Miriam was the daughter of Joachim, the timber merchant. Ashur bowed politely to Miriam. Cornelius turned and explained, Ashur has no Latin or Aramaic. But since he commands his troops in a brief Latin, I suspect he understands more than he will admit. Although he has been in Judaea for many years he has apparently acquired no skill in speaking the languages. His native tongue is a dialect of Persian, I believe. He speaks a passable Greek though.

Miriam spoke to Ashur in Greek, I thank you for helping my father protect his ox-trains. I understand you are Persian in origin?

Ashur was obviously delighted to hear Greek being spoken to him by the young woman, You seem to be well schooled, as becomes the daughter of an important merchant. Miriam replied to this flattery with an appropriate obligatory flattery of her own, Our people have always blessed the name of Cyrus the Persian and his descendants who set our ancestors free from their captivity in Babylon. Ashur completed the round of formal conversation as he bowed deeply, Freedom for a worthy people.

The three of them burst into laughter at the pretence of the formal flatteries. Cornelius was all business again, Miriam, you must return home to your mother as soon as possible. We are sorry your woodlands have become infested, but they chose to run this way. If we escort you down to your home you will be a lot safer. We will finish burying the brigand and accompany you.

Miriam agreed. She did not feel as negative now. While the men rolled stones over the bandit’s shallow grave, she retrieved Fuzzy from the brush where he had been tied. She saddled up and started to mount when Cornelius called out, Time is important if we are to catch those brigands. I think we can get you home faster if you ride up here with me on my horse. Your donkey can trot behind, unladen.

Miriam was thrilled with the idea, and, leading Fuzzy, she hurried to the left side of Cornelius’ horse. Miriam held up her left hand to the Roman Tribune for a boost up. Cornelius grasped her wrist and pulled her up easily onto the broad cantle behind the saddle. Hold onto my shoulder armor here with one hand and the donkey’s halter line with your other hand. If you feel yourself uncomfortable or slipping, call out, and we’ll stop. Miriam clung for dear life, grasping the Roman’s armored shoulder plate with her left hand while she held tightly to Fuzzy’s halter line with her right.

Away they went at a fast canter, Ashur in the lead. As they rode, Miriam spoke to the Tribune in Greek, loudly enough for Ashur to be included in the conversation, What is your stallion’s name, Tribune? He is a lovely fellow. So graceful and spirited.

Cornelius smiled. His name is Pilgrim. When my brother-in-law injured his leg and could no longer ride, he gave his horse to me. Pilgrim is a pure-bred Arabian.

They continued the conversation about horses in general, and soon they were back at the stream crossing. As they rounded the bend opening onto the sheep corral, a large, shaggy dog raced down the trail to greet them. Miriam called out to the dog, Pudge, where’s Yeshai? Bring him here. The dog barked happily and danced a few steps upon recognizing his mistress’ voice. Miriam pointed up the trail and repeated, Go get Yeshai, Pudge. Bring him here.

Where the trail emerged from the tree line, Yeshai appeared, on foot, leading his horse by the halter. Miriam and the two Roman officers saw him as he walked out of the shadow of the woods into the sunlit meadow. Miriam waved and called out, Yeshai! Yeshai! Over here. Seeing her brother’s figure stiffen as he saw the Roman horsemen, Miriam called out again, It’s all right, Yeshai. They’re friends. There’s no harm. She slipped down off the cantle of Cornelius’ horse and began to run up the trail to greet her brother. The Romans followed her with the horses at a walk. Yeshai continued at a slow pace down the trail, leading his horse, out into the center of the open meadow as Miriam ran to him.

Suddenly, from the woods, where Yeshai had just emerged, a horseman galloped out at full tilt. He held his sword at arm’s length with its point slightly lowered as he bore down on Yeshai. Miriam screamed out a warning to her brother as the horseman closed on him. Yeshai had just enough time to interpose his horse between himself and the oncoming attacker. The attacker had no time to rein in completely, but slowed his charge as his horse collided with Yeshai’s. The attacker barely held his saddle as his mount shouldered into the standing horse and knocked the animal sprawling. The attacking horseman recovered his balance and again started toward Yeshai, standing unprotected in the field. Miriam had reached Yeshai’s side and stood slightly behind him.

The Romans had sprung into action. Ashur had his bow out and let fly with a quick arrow at the attacker. There was no time to aim. The shot was intended to distract the attacker from his victim. The shaft came close, singing past the attacking horseman’s head by inches. The trick worked! The horseman broke off the attack, and glanced down field. When he saw Cornelius at full gallop toward him, pilum at the ready, he reined in sharply and whirled to meet him.

As Cornelius galloped in, pilum poised for the thrust, the opposing horseman pulled back on his mount’s reins, causing his horse to rear on his hind legs with his front hooves pawing the air in Cornelius’ face. The javelin point went wide of the mark as Cornelius slammed into the flying hooves of the opposing mount. One hoof caught him in the side, on the edge of his cuirass. The impact of the hoof drove him out of the saddle, and he landed heavily on his left shoulder.

Ashur nocked another arrow and took aim, this time with deliberate care. As the attacker let down his rearing horse, Ashur let fly again. The arrow this time caught the horseman in the center of the breast. He was wearing no armor, and the shaft sank to the feathers. For a moment, the horseman tried to cry out, but the effort seemed too great. He slumped in the saddle and slid to the ground. For a while, the horseman lay on his side in the grass clawing feebly at the stub of the shaft and then fell over on his face and lay still.

From out of the woods another horseman came, but at a slow walk. Ashur nocked another arrow and prepared to shoot again, but something in the oncoming horseman’s demeanor made him wait with the arrow point in the air, the bow undrawn. As the horseman reached halfway from the wood to where Cornelius lay, he dismounted and loosed his sword belt, casting the weapon to one side. Then he slowly approached the prone Roman. Ashur hung his bow on the saddle hook and rode up before the dismounted horseman arrived at Cornelius’ side.

Miriam and Yeshai also ran to where Cornelius lay. He was conscious, but barely so. Ashur knelt at his comrade’s side, examining him, but keeping a wary eye on the dismounted stranger who was standing quietly nearby. Ashur unbuckled Cornelius’ cuirass and set it aside. Then he cut away the tunic with his knife and began to feel gently with his finger tips to assess the damage. Cornelius groaned as Ashur manipulated his left shoulder slightly.

Miriam spoke gently, in Greek, to Ashur, I have some skill in medical matters. May I assist you? Ashur, without looking up, replied, Certainly, my Lady. Your help is most appreciated. What do you make of this? Ashur pointed to Cornelius’ misshapen left shoulder, which was starting to swell.

First Miriam examined Cornelius’ head and neck. Then she glanced at the shoulder and felt gently about the shoulder-blade, collar-bone and ribs on Cornelius’ right side. She examined his left side likewise. Then, after a few minutes, she spoke again to Ashur, I estimate two, possibly three, broken ribs on the right side. The left shoulder is certainly dislocated, but I cannot detect any fractures in the collarbone, shoulder-blade or the upper arm on the left side. I do not detect any open wounds other than the lacerations on his right side where the edge of his body armor and the horse’s hoof raked the ribs. Ashur smiled grimly and replied, A thorough diagnosis. I agree with your estimate. How do you recommend we treat him?

Miriam thought for a moment. His life is not in danger unless he slips into deep shock from pain. I recommend we make a litter and carry him slowly and as gently as possible down to our house. My mother is an expert physician and can reduce that shoulder dislocation without damaging the socket and sinews. If we try to treat that here we may cause him permanent shoulder damage. The ribs are not fractured badly enough to abrade the lungs, if we are careful. We can strap the ribs here to help avoid possible abrasion and lessen his pain.

Cornelius’ horse, Pilgrim, was standing, forlorn, a short distance from his fallen master. His great dark eyes looked inquiringly as Miriam approached him slowly and with words of comfort loosened the ties on the saddle bag. Inside the bag she found Cornelius’ cloak. Next she walked over to her patient little donkey, reached into her own saddle bag for her medicine kit and unfastened the water skin from the pommel.

Ashur, watching her, murmured, Good idea, and retrieved his own cloak from his saddle bag. Miriam spoke briefly to Yeshai who was examining his fallen mount, Cappy. The boy stood up, tears in his eyes, and listened as his sister quietly explained what she needed. He walked toward the woods, with Pudge trailing softly in his footsteps.

Turning back to Cornelius, Miriam knelt by his side. He was still conscious, but in great pain. Miriam lifted his head and gave him a long draught of water from the skin and then bathed his head with more water. Next she retrieved a small pouch and a cup from her medicine pack and mixed some of the powder from the pouch with water and offered the cup to the young officer. Cornelius looked up at her and asked. What is it?

It is a pain-killer to help you while we carry you down to our house. You need care and rest for a few weeks. My mother can heal that shoulder, but it must be done carefully or you will be crippled. When Yeshai brings us some poles from the woods we will make a litter and carry you.

Is this opium? Miriam shook her head. No, I cannot give you so strong a soporific. We are going to strap your broken ribs. If I gave you opium you would fall into a deep sleep and with your ribs strapped you would soon stop breathing altogether.

Cornelius looked into her compassionate eyes and took the infusion without comment. Miriam fashioned a shade from her scarf and folded the scraps of Cornelius’ tunic into a pillow for his head. The young officer groaned slightly as he relaxed. When the medicine began to take effect Cornelius lay quietly, half sleeping. Then Miriam started to strap the Roman’s broken ribs with broad cloth strips torn from his cloak lining. Cornelius barely complained as the young woman swiftly completed the bandaging.

As they waited for Yeshai to return from the woods with the litter poles, Ashur turned his attentions to the bandit who had surrendered after the fight in the meadow. He retrieved the sword that the young man had cast aside and bound his wrists behind him. Then Ashur tied a halter to the prisoner’s wrists and led him over to Miriam and Cornelius. He asked, in Greek, Miss, do you know this fellow? Or perhaps he will tell you his name and how he came to be here, today. He does not look like any ordinary ruffian, judging from his clothes, his horse and his way of carrying himself.

Miriam started to question the young man in Aramaic when he spoke, but in Greek, I am Ari ben Sola. I come from Jerusalem. Miriam thought she recognized the family name.

Oh is your father Rabbi Aharon Sola? The young man was pleased to be so recognized, Why yes, the very same. How is it that such a young lady as you, here in the provinces, knows my father’s name?

Our family travels to Jerusalem at least once or twice a year to celebrate Sukkot or the Passover. We stay with my cousin in Bethany, just outside Jerusalem. My cousin’s husband is Zechariah, a priest of the course of Abijah. He has mentioned your father many times. He always speaks of Rabbi Sola as a great teacher and colleague in the Sanhedrin, and a man of perception and gentleness. It is clear, however, that the son is different in nature than the father.

Ari ben Sola replied, in a saddened voice, Thank you for those kind words about my father. I fear he does not approve of my activities and point of view. I suspect the Romans also will take a dim view of me. Ari turned to Ashur, "What is to become of me?

Ashur rubbed his chin and thought for a moment, You have associated yourself with the notorious terrorist, Judas. Depending on the nature of that association you may be dealt with severely, or perhaps, somewhat less severely if there are extenuating circumstances. I am not familiar with the nuances of Roman administrative law. However, Tribune Cornelius here can acquaint you with the realities of your situation, when he recovers.

Miriam was upset. Could ben Sola be executed as a common bandit? Ashur shrugged, I believe ben Sola should entertain that distinct possibility.

Miriam asked angrily, Ben Sola. Why did you and your friend attack my brother? You saw that he was unarmed and harmless. That was a cowardly thing to do. Ari answered quickly, Please, I beg of you, do not blame me for the attack on your brother. I tried to dissuade Shimon from the attack, but he would not stop to listen. I think I understand why, philosophically, Shimon acted as he did. It would take me some time to explain.

Ashur’s voice was deadly soft, We are not playing scholarly or theoretical games, ben Sola. It has been my experience that Roman law is practical, harsh and swift.

Ari stared directly into Ashur’s eyes, and the full realization came to the young man that he might very well be executed.

Ben Sola looked away from the unswerving gaze and glanced at his horse. Ashur continued, If you were to attempt escape, ben Sola, that would most certainly result in your immediate death.

Ari looked back into Ashur’s eyes but found no comfort there. He shuddered slightly and involuntarily as he saw, just over Ashur’s shoulder, the corpse of his recent comrade lying in the sunlit meadow grass, an arrow shaft piercing the body. He remained silent for a long while and finally spoke as he indicated by inclining his head at the corpse, If I may be permitted, I would like to help bury that man, and if I am needed to help carry the Tribune for medical care, I would be happy to do what I can. Most assuredly I would appreciate the opportunity of speaking with the Tribune at the appropriate time when he is recovered.

Ashur listened impassively, watching the young man carefully. Then without further words he reached behind Ari’s back to his wrists and untied his bonds. Ari was grateful, You have my word, I shall not try to escape. Ashur looked contemptuously at the young man, I have not asked for your promise. However, I am sure you will keep your word. Let’s bury your friend. Noting that Ashur had unconsciously fingered his bow case, Ari resolved, silently, to continue to be an honorable man.

As Ashur and Ari ben Sola prepared the dead bandit’s grave, Miriam gathered up the horses and the donkey, and tied them in single file so that they could be led by one person. By this time, Yeshai’s horse, Cappy, had struggled to his feet, but he was limping badly. Miriam led the old horse a few paces, gently, watching carefully how he placed his legs. She removed Cappy’s saddle and fastened it to Pilgrim’s back, then tied the injured animal at the head of the horse line.

By this time Yeshai had returned from the woods with two stout litter poles that he had cut and trimmed from saplings. Miriam conferred briefly with him and told him there was a good possibility that Cappy could recover from his injuries. The young man’s spirits seem to soar visibly. The two walked hand in hand to where Ashur and Ari ben Sola were burying the fallen bandit.

They stood silently until the last paddle full of earth was placed on his grave. Ari stood at the graveside and recited the Twenty-third Psalm. Miriam and Yeshai joined in the recital.

Ashur stood quietly, listening, until the Psalm was completed, and then asked Miriam, Why do you say a prayer for a man who tried to murder you?

The prayer is not so much for him. It is mostly for all humankind. We are all mortal, and will answer to G_d for the life we have lived. Ashur nodded that he understood.

Then Ashur took the poles Yeshai had fashioned and wrapped his own cloak and Cornelius’ cloak around them to form a litter. Miriam used a needle and heavy sutures from her medical bag to sew the cloak edges so that they could not come unwrapped from the litter poles. Ashur inspected and approved as she worked. When she finished, he gave instructions, I shall carry the head of the litter and ben Sola and Yeshai will each carry a pole at the foot end. Miriam, I see you have strung our horses together. Can you lead all of them? If not, we can corral them up near the stream and come back for them later.

The horses seem docile enough. They are certainly tired. I can lead them a good distance closer to home. We can always tie them along the way if they become unmanageable.

Ashur agreed and he and the two young men placed the litter under Cornelius, lifting him slightly. The young Roman was half asleep and groaned as he was lifted into the litter. The three men carrying the litter took up the head of the column. Leading the string of horses and the donkey, Miriam followed behind far enough to keep the roiled dust from the animals’ hooves from disturbing the litter bearers. The column moved slowly up the trail, into the woods and forded the stream.

Pausing to fill their water skins, the men set the litter down and gave the horses drink. Cornelius, shaken into consciousness by the motion of the litter, claimed to feel much better. At first he insisted on trying to mount his horse, Pilgrim. Miriam explained to him that even if he succeeded in mounting Pilgrim there was danger of the jolting crippling his shoulder permanently. Ashur and Miriam both joined in persuading him to allow himself to be carried in the litter. Cornelius continued to refuse and tried to rise from the litter.

Finally, Ashur knelt by Cornelius’ side and asked, in Latin, My dear Tribune, will you allow yourself to be carried? I ask it as a special favor. Cornelius looked up into his friend’s face, stunned for a moment that Ashur, for the first time in all the years he had known him, had spoken to him in perfect Latin. It gave the request a certain importance. Cornelius smiled wanly and acceded, I always suspected you knew more Latin that you let on. You have a delightful accent. Yes, of course, I will be carried. Cornelius, relieved, in spite of himself, relaxed and allowed himself to be ministered to.

Miriam quickly took the opportunity to get the injured Roman to swallow another pain-killer infusion and a soporific. When he started to lapse into sleep again she braced his arm at a comfortable angle from his body and tied it in place to immobilize the whole, then tied him into the litter with two ropes. Shortly, Cornelius was fitfully asleep and the column resumed its journey, eased by the downhill slope.

Throughout the afternoon, they labored carefully down the ridge pathway that Miriam had ridden in the morning. Yeshai was starting to breathe heavily in the hot sun. The perspiration was running down his arms and onto his hands. He called out, Mimi, talk to Ashur, please. My hands are starting to slip. Miriam spoke to Ashur in Greek and warned him about Yeshai’s hands slipping from the litter pole. He immediately called a halt.

They stopped, put down the litter, and rested. Lying in the meadow in the hot sunlight, they panted from the exertion and gazed wordlessly at each other. Miriam checked Cornelius to see if he was still comfortable. The young officer was still sound asleep from the soporific. She checked the rope bindings holding him onto the litter. The bindings were firm.

Toward late afternoon they were rewarded by a light, cooling breeze sweeping across the open meadows and fields. The litter carriers gained strength as the temperature declined and there were longer stretches between the rest stops. As the sun was descending in the western sky, they came in sight of Miriam’s home. The litter bearers carefully set their burden down, and Yeshai and Pudge ran down to the house to fetch help.

Shortly, Hannah came trudging up the pathway from the house with Yeshai and three servants in tow. Yeshai then took control of the string of horses from his sister, and Ashur, walking behind the litter, closely supervised the three serving men and the prisoner, ben Sola, who carried the fourth corner of the litter. Hannah and Miriam walked on either side of the litter, while Miriam related to her mother her medical findings on Cornelius’ injuries. Hannah listened carefully as Miriam explained how the injury had occurred, what she had found when she examined the injuries and what course of treatment she had supplied the patient thus far.

As the sun slipped below the western rim, the party arrived at the house.

CHAPTER 2

Guests

The litter-bearers entered the house by the kitchen door and placed the litter on the long kitchen table. Hannah then gave orders and the servants hurried to prepare a bed for the injured Roman. When the bed was ready she directed Ashur down a hallway off the kitchen into a large room illuminated by the setting sun.

In the room there was a double row of beds, side by side. The servants had just finished dressing a bed by the window near the middle of the room. Moving slowly and carefully, Ashur and ben Sola brought the improvised litter level with the bed and held fast while the servants eased Cornelius onto the bed. Half-conscious, the injured man did not even wince or cry out as he was settled into the bed.

The servants performed the maneuver with such casual efficiency that Ashur commented to Hannah, They are well-trained in handling the injured. He looked about the room at the row of beds along either wall, the neat cabinets at the end of the room. There was a wash stand, and in the center aisle a sturdy table with a clean cover-cloth over it. Ashur was surprised. This is a surgery—not so?

Quite right, First Cohort. We maintain a surgery, and infirmary here. It also serves as a dormitory during certain times of the year when we have holiday guests or visiting businessmen with their servants.

Hannah leaned over Cornelius, slicing the remainder of the tunic from his body with a small scalpel. She examined his shoulder and rib cage closely for a few minutes, probing gently with her slender fingers. At length, she straightened up and walked over to the cabinet, returning with a large, folded linen cloth of sturdy, close weave. Using the scalpel deftly, she cut tabs into the linen and ripped out several long strips of cloth. Using a strip she tied Cornelius’ upper torso to the heavy bedstead and wound another long strip around his upper left arm, elbow and lower arm. The trailing cloth from his arm she looped about the bedpost at the foot of the neighboring bed.

Ashur noted that these beds were fastened to the planking on the floor with sturdy pegs that passed through slots in the foot of each bed post. He nodded with understanding as Hannah slipped a hefty stick into the loop of linen and began to twist the cloth. Ashur stepped forward, May I assist you, Madam?

Yes, thank you, sir. Would you continue to twist this stick? Slowly, as I adjust his arm. As Ashur twisted the stick, Cornelius’ bound left arm straightened and began to stretch. Cornelius started to stir from his sound sleep. As Hannah went to his side and inserted one hand under his left shoulder blade and the other over his deltoids, he came fully awake. She spoke to Cornelius soothingly, Don’t tighten your muscles, Tribune. Allow your arm and back to go limp. There will be only a little pain if you can manage that.

As Ashur steadily twisted, Hannah guided the knob-end of the dislocated humerus into alignment with the shoulder socket. With practiced hands, she moved aside the thick scapular and deltoid muscles that blocked the alignment then spoke to Ashur, That feels just right, First Cohort. Unwind the stick, steadily, two full turns, please.

Cornelius was fully awake, perspiration beading his forehead. The jagged scar across his brow was livid as he restrained himself from squirming under the pressure of the linen tourniquet and tried to relax his arm and back muscles.

As Ashur released the pressure, Hannah made one final manipulation and the knob end of the humerus slipped into the shoulder socket with a soft sound. Hannah unfastened the twisted linen from her patient’s arm and body and began carefully to examine the range of motion of the arm. She moved the arm slowly, first in one direction and then another. At last, Hannah folded the arm over Cornelius’ chest and bound it in place with two fresh strips of cloth. Good! The socket is not damaged, nor the muscles. You have some torn sinews, but they will heal properly. You will recover with no permanent injury, Tribune.

Cornelius sank into full relaxation. A grateful sigh of relief escaped his lips. Miriam, Ashur and Hannah laughed with pleasure at the involuntary comment. Looking down to the end of the room, near the door, Ashur saw Yeshai and ben Sola, quietly watching the proceedings. The young prisoner had not moved, nor tried to escape, while Ashur had been engaged in the treatment. Yeshai sat quietly on a bed. Ben Sola stood by.

Ashur turned to Hannah and Miriam, I have seen many injured men in my time, and not a few dislocations. May I compliment you on your skill and speed. I have never seen a dislocation reduced so quickly and with so little pain. Hannah bowed slightly, Thank you, First Cohort. Let us offer you some hospitality. Would you care to bed down here next to the Tribune?

Yes, thank you, Madam. I would also like to have our prisoner over here in that bed. He pointed to the bed across the aisle. Very well, sir. Hannah gave orders and the servants dressed two additional beds.

Cornelius sank into a deep sleep again. Miriam quickly took the opportunity to wash his rib abrasions with clean water from the washstand, applied a soothing balm and rebound his rib bandages. She covered him with a warm blanket. The young Tribune did not stir. His face was drawn and tired, but there, in place