Hearing Miriam’s near neighbors come out their respective homes and greet one another, Anna managed a weak smile.
“Shalom, Joseph.”
“Shalom to you, Zachariah.”
That would be the goldsmiths, one old and portly and the other young and pimply, starting early on their daily running conversation. The way they gossiped the day away, it was a wonder they managed to accomplish any work.
“Have you heard tell of the Baptizer, Joseph?”
“I have. Do you think this John is a prophet of God, as some claim?”
Anna and Miriam mostly ignored the goldsmiths, but today’s topic quickly claimed their attention. Miriam belonged to those who believed the man called John the Baptist was a prophet sent from God. Her eyes locked with Anna’s.
“Go while there is time,” Miriam said.
“I am curious.”
From time to time men would arise claiming to be prophets. Shunning the religious establishment in Jerusalem for the wilderness, they were called desert prophets. The prophets were not the only ones who took to the desert. Out on the edges of the Dead Sea, whole communities existed dedicated to the task of copying out holy writ and to the practice of Judaism in a form they considered pure. Rumor had it the man the people called John the Baptist, on account of his message of repentance and baptism for the forgiveness of sins, was a true prophet of God.
“I know you long to offer sacrifices at the Temple. You may not be able to go the Temple, but you can go to the desert. Settle things while you may. Who knows when you will be back? Hearing the prophet’s message will encourage you. I am sure of it.”
“If the whole city was not stirred up against me because of Zara, I would be tempted to go. Truly, I would.”
Unlike Julian, Zara the Levite had come roaring back to Jerusalem close behind Anna and Crispus. The dust barely settled before Zara denounced the commander of Fortress Antonia to the Sanhedrin and charged Cursed Anna with all manner of vile crimes.
Miriam waved a dismissive hand. “Only outcasts and the discontented go to hear and be baptized. We will be safe enough once we are outside the city gates.”
Andrew fussed to be let down. He toddled unsteadily toward Anna. Pleased with his newest talent—walking—the rosy-cheeked baby squealed with delight when he made it safely across the room without falling.
Fisting his chubby fingers into Anna’s tunic for support, Andrew beamed up at her in gummy triumph.
Anna smiled back with a heavy heart. She and Miriam were of a similar age. Yet Miriam enjoyed the two blessings all Jewish girls longed for. Marriage and motherhood. She would not cry. She would not. She simply would not cry for what could not be.
Anna lifted the baby and hugged him, mourning for all that was lost. For her mother and father, brothers and sisters. For Simon and his sons. For her good name.
She mourned for what might never be. Babies to fill her womb. A Jewish husband to cherish and protect them. A home in Jerusalem.
“Tell me you will go to hear the prophet,” Miriam urged.
Anna nodded.
It was only fitting she take her place among the outcasts.
Seventeen
Two days later Anna and Miriam left at dawn to see the Baptizer. The road leading from Jerusalem to the Jordan River filled with people making the same journey, providing good cover for two women wishing to go unnoticed.
With Crispus’ duties taking him from home for a few days, Miriam had left baby Andrew in the care of a cousin, secured two donkeys, and insisted on coming. Anna had begged the young mother to reconsider but to no avail.
In truth, she was glad for the company.
The majestic heights of Jerusalem and the paved thoroughfare quickly devolved into a hard-bitten, rock-strewn trail. Down, down, down the road wound past olive and fruit groves and large plots of vegetation, giving way all too soon to dull-gray hillsides and lifeless crumbling crags. Each turn of the path took them deeper and deeper into the lifeless wilderness.
Descending, always descending they went, progressing slowly yet steadily toward the River Jordan, the lowest of low places.
Taking note of the people making the journey—sinners all—Anna relaxed. Publicans, harlots, beggars, bastards, the sick, and ritually impure. There was hardly a respectable citizen of Jerusalem among them.
After a few miles, Miriam managed to convince Anna to remove the veils covering her face. The warmth of the full sun shining upon her cheeks following days of being cooped-up, felt almost as wonderful as being able to show her face in public again.
No pointing fingers of blame need be feared out here. Seeing how well she fit in among the outcasts, Anna regretted the day she had laid eyes on Julian. If he had not turned Zara against her and if the Temple guard was not looking for her, she might already be counted one with the sinners.
Anna was more curious than ever about the desert prophet.
Arriving at the River Jordan, Mariam encouraged her to join the line with those waiting to be baptized. The stir of anticipation in the air contrasted with the brown waters of the river moving along, the placid surface still except for the concentric ripples cast by the Baptizer and his disciples.
The baptism resembled the ritual cleansings the priests and others underwent to attain ceremonial purity. Only simpler. If the Baptizer had spoken, they had missed his preaching. It was not necessary anyway. All of Jerusalem knew John’s message.
Repent, for the kingdom of God is at hand.
The axe is laid at the root.
Bring forth fruits worthy of repentance.
Anna did not know why others had come to be baptized, but she was here because she was afraid. Afraid she had lost favor with God. Not that she had yet done anything so very sinful. But she had certainly meant to. At least one Gentile knew it for a fact.
A stir drew her attention. A knot of Pharisees and Sadducees arrived on the opposite bank, no doubt come to pass judgment on John the Baptist.
Her gaze lighted on the man shepherding the religious delegation. Zara the Levite. Her heart sped. The brief hope he had not seen her died when he acknowledged her with a hard grin.
The powerful entourage came no closer, content to observe—for now.
She returned her attention back to the Baptizer, but it was impossible to recapture her peaceful mood of moments ago.
A murmur arose as a group of women joined the back of the line.
The women’s uncovered heads and free-flying hair announced them to be harlots as effectively as if a host of angels had pointed them out.
Anna longed to experience the cleansing waters of baptism. To know her sins were forgiven. Partaking of John’s baptism was not something to be undertaken lightly or deceitfully. Yet she feared she was acting the hypocrite. To come to the prophet under false pretenses bordered on the blasphemous.
Indecision ate at her.
Should she stay? Or should she go?
One of John’s followers motioned for Anna to step forward.
She wavered.
She could not. Not like this.
She stepped aside.
The Baptizer turned his gaze on her.
Time stopped.
Inscrutable black eyes assessed her.
She returned his stare and took one step back, and then another. Ignoring the muddy water pulling at her tunic and the hum of speculation buzzing around her, she moved back another step and another.
Reaching the end of the line, she stopped. Hand rising slowly, she pushed her scarf off her head. Her thick, curly hair cascaded over her shoulders.
An audible gasp went up.
With the Baptizer as her witness, Anna took her place with the harlots.
∞∞∞
Partially hidden in the scrubby undergrowth, their horses shifting restlessly beneath them, Julian and Crispus swore in unison, but in different languages, upon recognizing the woman stepping out of line and removing her head cover.
Anna.
Here to supe
rvise the arrest of John the Baptist, a man guilty of making a nuisance of himself, Julian never dreamed Anna would be present. Or that she would be foolish enough to unveil her head and take up a spot beside the harlots.
A sizeable delegation of Pharisees and Sadducees and Temple guardsmen, including Zara the Levite, had come to witness the arrest of the Baptizer.
No one could have missed Zara’s cruel inspection of Anna.
For the moment, Jerusalem’s newest harlot appeared safe. By unspoken agreement, all sides appeared content to wait until the end of the religious ceremony to make their moves.
Satisfied with Zara’s sanity, Julian turned his attention back to the one who was surely mad.
Anna.
She hated the name Cursed Anna, but how she would feel if he started calling her Foolish Anna. What was she doing here? The woman was supposed to be in hiding. Whatever could have possessed her—
“Will you never listen, woman?” The dismay in Crispus’ voice proved the centurion was as frustrated with his wife as Julian was with Anna.
“Do not be too hard on her,” Julian said.
Placing the blame at Miriam’s feet would not do. No, the fault rested with him.
He had pushed Anna too far. He doubted she would be here if he had not convinced her she possessed a harlot’s heart. The touching and the kissing meant to send her scurrying to Egypt had gone too far.
Temporary insanity. That is what it had been.
Good Jewish girl that she was, Anna had mistaken the strong attraction between them as a moral failing.
“My wife tells me the long wait weighed heavily on Anna.” Crispus shifted in his saddle as though uncomfortable. “I did not take the warning seriously. I never dreamed Miriam would go so far as to bring her here.”
John the Baptist plunged the next follower under the brown waters of the River Jordan.
“What exactly are they doing?”
“Baptism for the repentance of sins… whatever that means.” Crispus offered no more enlightenment on the subject.
“Does Miriam want to go under the waters? Will you allow it?”
“I did not have any say in the matter. She came out here and got dunked under the water while I was in Caesarea. Now she is pestering me to be baptized. I am almost tempted. It might make Miriam put away notions about me going under the knife.”
Talk of the Jewish practice of circumcision had Crispus wincing and covering his nether regions with a protective hand.
Julian had to laugh. “One thing you can say about the cutting off of the foreskin. It will make a fellow think twice before converting.”
The harlots stepped forward to be baptized.
Julian held his breath, wondering if the Baptizer would turn them away.
Anna smiled shyly and nodded at whatever the man said. As she ducked under the water, her unbound hair fanned out and floated, emphasizing her status as a harlot.
And up from the water she came, wiping at eyes wetter than a dose of river water warranted. Likely she was clearing tears from her eyes. Making her way back to the shore, she repeatedly glanced up at the clear blue sky.
Hearing that John the Baptist welcomed sinners and outcasts had intrigued Julian. Seeing the devotion it garnered among the common people explained why he had enemies.
“I see why Herodias fears him,” Julian said. “The harpy would not stop nagging me about the Baptizer.” John the Baptist had made the mistake of criticizing Herod Antipas for stealing his brother’s wife and questioning the legitimacy of the king’s marriage to Herodias. And Herodias was not in a forgiving mood.
Crispus nodded toward the Pharisees and Sadducees sheltering under the lone palm tree. “I thought it might be the Sanhedrin who had ordered the Baptizer’s arrest. Miriam feared the religious leaders would try to silence his preaching.”
“They did not order his arrest, but they did not oppose it either.”
“Miriam believes John the Baptist is the forerunner of the promised Messiah, the man who is supposed to bring eternal peace to Israel.” Crispus shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know about that. But I think Herod Antipas and the Sanhedrin are buying themselves a pack of trouble. The people will not like it.”
Giving his second-in-command’s tactful warning due credit, Julian made a slight adjustment in his plans. “Thank you, Centurion. I believe we have enough men to persuade Herod’s henchmen to mind their manners until after the crowd has dispersed for home. Do you think you can get your wife and Anna away safely?”
Julian easily picked Anna out from the group of harlots surrounding her. Other than her free-flowing hair, Anna looked the image of a prim and proper Jewess. Extracting her from their midst unnoticed would be a chore.
But the next moment, Miriam was doing it for them. Welcomed into the circle of whores with open smiles, Miriam smiled warmly back at them. She claimed Anna from them by the simple expedient of taking the young Jewess by the hand and leading her off.
Like slow rolling thunder, Crispus grumbled, “They will be safe enough… that is, until I get them home.”
The stormy discontent on his face almost had Julian feeling sorry for the recalcitrant pair. “Another week and I will take Anna off your hands,” he promised.
First he must make the trek to Fortress Macherus. A desolate outpost located at the eastern-most edge of the province, on a wind-swept prominence overlooking the Dead Sea, it held the distinction of being Herod Antipas’s favorite destination for persons who had outworn their welcome. Such as the Baptizer.
Miriam took Anna off to one side. Like a mother fussing over a child, Miriam set about righting Anna’s head cover and veils. Before setting the last veil in place, the one that would conceal Anna’s face from view, the two women smiled brightly at one another and exchanged a quick but tight hug.
So the two had formed a close bond. Or maybe it was simply the emotion of the baptism. Whatever the cause, the sight of Anna smiling hit Julian like a bolt to the chest. He would pay a great deal to see light and laughter a permanent fixture on her face. Especially if those smiles were for him.
“Miriam will miss the company,” Crispus said.
A twinge of guilt went through Julian at the thought of taking Anna away from this newfound happiness. He wondered if she would ever get over leaving Jerusalem.
For his part, he could not wait to put Israel behind him.
Eighteen
Baby Andrew was sick and fussy, poor thing.
Poor thing, indeed.
The charitable thought was the one Anna tried to cling to after having spent far too much time over the past week within earshot of the unhappy tot.
Her mood was not helped by her anger, disgust, and frustration with Julian.
Almost two weeks had passed with hardly a word from him since he informed her she would be going to Egypt. He returned to Jerusalem only long enough to arrest John the Baptist and march his prisoner off to a desert fortress.
Salome and Herodias were no doubt behind the arrest of God’s prophet. Julian should be ashamed at being manipulated by the vicious pair. The uproar in Jerusalem and beyond had left the city and country on edge.
Miriam, bless her heart, looked exhausted. Against the young mother’s half-hearted protest, Anna insisted, for just this one time, she would see to the daily chore of filling the household’s water pitchers from the nearby well.
Donning a scarf, Anna could not escape the stuffy confines of the house fast enough.
The gauntlet that was the narrow, winding alley outside Miriam’s front door loomed large. Lined on both sides by stone houses stacked willy-nilly against or atop one another, the neighborhood bristled with activity.
Anna had not taken two steps when she faced her first test. The goldsmiths. Spotting her, they stopped their daily running conversation so abruptly it was wonder their teeth did not pop out of their mouths.
She dipped her chin and murmured, “Shalom, Zechariah. Shalom, Joseph.” The traditional greeting of peace
was the only olive branch she had to offer.
More than anything, that is what Anna wanted—peace between herself and her fellow Israelites.
Like a miracle, the men smiled and invited her to pass. “Shalom, Anna.” The goldsmiths’ benign acceptance proved enough for Miriam’s other neighbors. A chorus of greetings followed her. The words of peace washed over her as rain from heaven, refreshing and reviving her.
Head angled a bit higher, Anna walked on.
The close confines of the alley gave way to a small bazaar. Tidy booths dotted the perimeter of the stone-paved plaza manned by savvy merchants hoping to profit from the steady flow of people coming and going from the local well.
All appeared peaceful enough. The unrest and excitement that had filled Jerusalem following the arrest of John the Baptist had given way to apathy.
Anna was anything but apathetic. She could not stop thinking about her Jordan River experience. The Baptizer had not spoken to her, but she had placed her hope in his message of repentance unto the remission of sin. And she had stepped forward with the other sinners.
Letting herself be counted among the harlots had been a drastic measure. After all, she was still a virgin. But it was worth a clean conscience. Having stood publicly accused of harlotry, she knew nothing less than a public exoneration would do. Miriam’s neighbors’ reactions to her just now, proved news of her baptism had spread and was making a difference.
A group of young girls surrounded an ancient lopsided well, all of them filling pots and jars of every size and description. Anna sidled up next to them.
The girls giggled and pointed, but not at her.
Rabbi Saul and his followers of novice young men filed ant-like through the square.
The girls’ hopes for catching the young men’s attention were rewarded with several sidelong glances and by more than a few scarlet-hued faces of those pretending not to notice the girlish laughter.
Faithful Daughter of Israel Page 8