Woman of Sin

by Debra Diaz

Alysia nodded. As she started up the stairs, Lazarus said, “Alysia, last night Mary and Martha went to your house and packed your clothes, and Rachel’s. We didn’t know what was going to happen and thought you might need them. They’re in a bag I left on my horse.”

  Paulus briefly touched the slave’s arm. “Cassipor, find the horse and take the lady her clothes, after you’ve seen to her comfort…please. Lazarus and Simon, come with me. We need to find Servius. He was involved in this…he may know something of this mysterious sentry.”

  “Paulus,” Alysia whispered, pulling him aside. “I didn’t see it all—did you kill Lucius?”

  “No,” he answered soberly. “He killed himself. But I wanted to and I might as well have. I most definitely have some repenting to do.”

  “I’m sorry it happened that way.”

  “He hated me, Alysia, not you. We must put this behind us now.”

  “Find her, Paulus. Find our daughter and bring her back to me.”

  * * * *

  The slave showed Alysia into a room with comfortable-looking couches and chairs, and a large window that overlooked the entire west side of the fortress. Once inside, she felt overwhelmed with emotion; she collapsed to her knees and began to sob, great wracking sobs that tore at her throat and took away her breath. She had gone from fear, to pain, to a strange, dreamless sleep…to awareness and gratitude, and now fear again. An intense and so utterly helpless fear that she could only cry out to God.

  “Please take care of my child! Thank you for what you have done for me, but please don’t let anything happen to Rachel. You know I would rather be dead than to know something had happened to her! Oh, I beg you to be merciful once more.”

  Truthfully, she could not remember her wound, couldn’t remember anything, as she had told Paulus. Something had happened…she shouldn’t be amazed, for she had seen such things, such miracles, but why it should be done for her she didn’t know. It was too vast a thought, too much for her at this moment.

  She was kneeling there with her head bowed and her palms pressed against her eyes when the slave entered the room with a tray of food. Cassipor, an elderly man short of stature, set down the tray and put his hand on her shoulder. “The Lord will take care of your daughter,” he said quietly. “And if she is harmed, he will be with her. His ways are not our ways. Whatever happens, he will always be with a child.”

  Alysia got to her feet and held out her hand to the slave. “You are a believer, and you speak words that he has given you. I’m very grateful.”

  “You must eat,” said Cassipor, pressing her hand and releasing it. “Please sit down.”

  She did so, first washing her hands and face in a basin he provided. He left the room, and after some time returned with the bag of clothes Lazarus had brought her.

  “I will pray for you,” he said, as he left again.

  Alysia felt comforted, somehow, but her qualms had not subsided. Who was the man with Rachel, and why had he disappeared? It didn’t make sense!

  She rummaged through the clothes and found a gown with its matching cloak, and removed the torn and bloodied one she wore. She was soon dressed; she combed her long hair with her fingers and covered it with the mantle. It seemed that a long time had gone by. She went to the window and could see several buildings…the residence of the tribunes, the infirmary, the stable on the first level, and the workshops of some of the artisans…immunes, they were called. She could tell there was activity among the soldiers, and assumed they were searching the buildings. Many of them she could still hear drilling on the parade ground.

  She pulled up a chair so that she could watch. She knew it wasn’t safe for her to go down and look for Rachel herself…but she was half inclined to do it. Her head drooped; she rested it for a moment against the sill and exhaustion pulled at her until she fell into a strange half-sleep.

  The sound of hooves on pavement and the voices of men brought her to her feet. The sun was high and warm on her face. She leaned out the window and saw Paulus, Lazarus and Simon riding up a ramp from the first level of the court. They dismounted slowly and began walking toward the praetorium. He did not have Rachel!

  She turned, flung open the door and ran down the stairs. Paulus entered the vestibule, and the look of deep concern on his face filled her with dread. Simon came in behind him; Lazarus must have lingered outside.

  “Servius was hiding in the barracks. He says he doesn’t know who the man was, that he just took Rachel away from him. We haven’t been able to find them yet, Alysia, but we will—if we have to tear this place apart and search the entire city.”

  “Do you mean—she’s nowhere in this fort?”

  A sound, an unexpected dimming of light from the end of the corridor where they stood, made all three of them turn their heads. The window at that end of the building was partially blocked by a tall figure, its outline clear, the rest indistinct due to the light from behind. As the figure drew closer, they saw it was a soldier…a soldier who carried a child in his arms.

  He came slowly toward them. The others stared, strangely immobilized, as he walked. There was not a sound but his footsteps. At last he entered into their own sphere of light, and they could see Rachel curled against his chest, sleeping.

  The man stood taller even than Paulus. His hair was blond and cut short, his eyes a blazing light blue. He wore the uniform of a Roman sentry.

  “You of little faith,” he said, with a rueful smile. “How soon you forget what great things the Lord has done for you.”

  He handed Rachel gently into Alysia’s arms. Tears of overwhelming relief started from her eyes. Paulus had not yet looked away from the soldier.

  “I know you,” he said, with conviction. “You are the one who brought me here, when I was wounded on the Jericho road.”

  The soldier nodded but did not speak.

  “I know you, too,” Alysia whispered. “You were one of those with Jesus, that day on the Mount of Olives, when he went away.”

  “And so he will return, in like manner.”

  “Why did you take the child?” Paulus asked.

  “I was told to. She was not to witness the things that happened. I’ve been here all the time…but you could not see me until the time was right.”

  “I don’t—” Alysia began, but then she did understand, or thought she did. It looked as though Paulus did, too, but Simon was bewildered.

  “There are things done for you, for all those who belong to him, that you cannot see. Things like…” He looked at Alysia and almost seemed to wink “…pulling a donkey’s tail, not too hard, of course.”

  She stared at him in amazement, remembering the indignant brays of the donkey on the way from Bethany.

  He gazed back at them, smiling, and they watched as he turned and walked away. As soon as he stepped into the shadows, he disappeared. He might have turned to the right or to the left, except that there were no retreating footsteps, there was no movement of air to mark his passage.

  They all stood frozen for a moment. Then Paulus said quietly, “May God have mercy on my wretched soul. I have not yet thanked him for all he has done here today.”

  “I—I want to thank him, too,” said Simon. “For what I’ve seen and heard, and…I want to tell him that I believe.”

  They drew close and knelt together, bowed their heads, and prayed.

  * * * *

  Outside, they found Lazarus in conversation with the centurion; both men turned and looked astonished to see Alysia carrying her daughter. Paulus attempted to explain.

  “The—sentry was inside. We’re not sure where he had been before, but…he’s rather elusive. He’s gone again.”

  “I want to question him,” Marcus declared. “Where did he go?”

  “Truthfully, Marcus, I do not know. You can search for him if you like…very tall, blond hair, blue eyes.”

  Marcus addressed one of the other centurions who stood nearby, ordering him to assemble another contingent of men to search the fort. Paulus
looked at Alysia and shrugged a little as if to say…what else could he do?

  “It will keep them busy,” he said, low. “Until we get out of here.”

  “I won’t ask where you’re going,” Marcus said, turning his attention back to Paulus. “But how will you travel? I can provide an extra horse.”

  Paulus’ brow furrowed; where were they going? Alysia had not yet said if she would marry him. There had been no time for any such discussion. But whether she married him or not, she would still have to leave Bethany, to be safe.

  He felt her hand slide into his. “I had already decided,” she told him. “The answer is yes.”

  He clasped her hand, smiling into her eyes. “The donkey and cart that brought you here?”

  “Yes,” she said, and laughed aloud. “By all means!”

  Marcus had a puzzled expression. “The animal will be at the stable, I presume. I’ll have it sent out, with some food for your journey.”

  “You are very kind,” Alysia said.

  He looked embarrassed again, nodded at them, and left. “Oh,” Alysia said suddenly, “I left my clothes in that room—here, Paulus, take Rachel. And I must speak to Cassipor.” She placed Rachel in his arms and hurried back into the praetorium. Simon offered to go and pack some of Paulus’ things as well.

  For the first time, Paulus held his daughter. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever having held a child before, but she seemed to be suffering no ill effects. Awake now, she stared solemnly into his eyes, her small hands tugging on the cord at the throat of his tunic. She gave a great yawn, and laid her head trustingly on his shoulder. Paulus placed his hand on the back of her head and felt something catch at his heart that he knew would never let go. He turned to see Lazarus waiting quietly, his attention discreetly fixed on something in the distance.

  “Lazarus,” he said. “I…we both…owe you a great debt. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for Alysia. I hope there will not be any trouble over your helping her.”

  “Alysia is part of our family. And now, so are you. There is no need to thank me, Paulus.”

  “Will you tell Stephen—” Paulus hesitated, and to his vague surprise felt tears sting his eyes. “Stephen has been…more than a brother to me. I regret that I didn’t get to tell him goodbye.”

  “Of course, I will tell him of your words. I know that he feels the same, toward you.”

  “About that—exhibition—with Lucius,” Paulus said regretfully. “I was wrong, and I’m sorry you had to witness it.”

  “A mistake. We all make them. And unfortunately, usually pay for them in some way. I hope you will not be bitter toward him, Paulus.”

  Before he could answer Alysia came quickly down the steps, with Simon behind her, who carried her bag as well as one for Paulus. Suddenly Paulus was restive; he looked around to see some of the soldiers eyeing them surreptitiously and he didn’t like it. He had thought, before all of this happened, that he might call the men together and say something to them before he left, but there was no time now. Too many of them had heard what Lucius said about Alysia…some would believe it…some would start to talk among themselves and wonder if there was a reward for her capture. The centurion could yet change his mind; Tribune Fabius would eventually hear of the matter and who knew how he would react? It was time to leave.

  “Let’s go to the stable,” Paulus said, leading the way. They descended a flight of steps and found Marcus outside the long narrow building, watching as slaves loaded provisions into the cart. One of the soldiers was leading the donkey out of a stall.

  “I’d like to pay for these things,” Paulus said, handing Rachel to Alysia, and untying a small moneybag from his belt. “I wouldn’t want it to be said that I stole them.”

  Marcus seemed to follow his train of thought. “I don’t think you have anything to fear from most of these men,” he said, taking the coins Paulus offered. “But—there are many, and word will get around to them all. The cohort commanders will have to explain your absence to their own men, and though they are loyal to you it is best that you leave as soon as possible. May the gods grant you good fortune, sir.”

  “Again, thank you for everything, Marcus.”

  The centurion gave a nod, dismissed the slaves, and left them. Lazarus said, “I see they have our horses ready as well. I know my sisters are very anxious to hear what has happened.”

  Paulus and Simon busied themselves with attaching the donkey to the cart. Alysia caught one of Lazarus’ hands in hers.

  “How can I ever tell you how much you’ve meant to me?” she murmured. “You, and Mary and Martha.”

  “There is no need,” he said gently. “But I take it you won’t be returning to Bethany…for a long time?”

  “Paulus and I are going to be married. I do hope to come back…someday. I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful about everything, Lazarus. But I—I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Please…again, there is no need to speak of it. I wish you happiness, Alysia. May God be with you.”

  Rachel stretched out her arms toward him. He took her from Alysia and held her for a moment, and kissed her cheek. “Goodbye, little one.”

  Turning to the other men, he grasped the reins of his own horse and said with a smile, “I’m not a good rider…I’m going to walk home. Is there anything else I can do to help you?”

  “Thank you again, Lazarus, with all my heart,” Paulus said earnestly. “Before you go, let me ask…Simon, what are your plans? You are welcome to come with us.”

  “Thank you, sir—I mean, Paulus…but I’ve decided to go back to Cyrene. I’m not sure yet, about telling my wife—but I want my sons to know me. I know I can find work there. First, though, I’m going to see Stephen, or some of the others. I have much to learn, about him. ”

  “A wise decision, I think, but take care…you are known as my slave, and there are going to be questions asked.”

  “No risk is too great—” Simon stopped and said a little ruefully, “Well, it seems I’ve heard something like that before…from you! I’m sorry that I spoke as I did that day.”

  “You said what you thought at the time, and can’t be blamed for that, Simon.”

  “I’d like to ride with you as far as the gate.”

  Paulus nodded. “I’ve been trying to think about the fastest and least conspicuous way out of here. Would you mind leaving your horse here for now? It may not do any good at all…I want to take my horse but that would mean leaving with it tied behind the cart, and that would be readily noticed. I can wait and tie him after we leave the city, if you will ride him out of here. Then you can walk back to Stephen’s house. Lazarus can send someone to come and get your horse…this way it will seem as though you left with us. Perhaps they won’t seek you in Jerusalem and when you’re ready you can make your way to the coast.”

  “Of course I will do so. We can go further than the gate if you like.”

  Lazarus offered, “I’ll take Simon’s horse with me…I can lead two as easily as one, or ride mine and lead the other.”

  “That, too, would be observed by the sentries on the tower…I think it would be better to send one of your servants and have him take the horse to Stephen. And as quickly as possible, while Marcus and most of the guards are occupied.”

  “I’ll send someone right away. Farewell—we shall pray every day for your safety.”

  They thanked him again, watching as he led his horse onto the long avenue leading out of the fortress. Simon mounted Paulus’ horse, saying, “I suppose you are thinking it may be necessary to make a quick escape on Asbolus someday?”

  “Perhaps, and he’s capable of carrying all three of us. Besides,” Paulus added with a grin, “I’ve grown fond of the nag…we’ve been through much together.”

  Paulus took Rachel from Alysia, helped her climb up on the cart, and lifted Rachel to her. There had been a place made for the child, padded with blankets, just behind the driver’s seat. He already had the route in mind…not to the coast,
which would be expected; they would travel north through the country, and then through Asia, by land rather than sea. It was entirely possible that fast-riding soldiers could be sent to watch for them at the ports, and ships were too confining, with all sorts of passengers who might know or recognize him…or even Alysia. It would be a long and difficult journey, but there was no hurry…they could stop for days, even weeks at a time.

  They left the fort slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. Turning right, they made their way to the Damascus gate, passed through it, and came upon one of the highways beneath Golgotha…the Roman “Calvary”. As if compelled, they turned back to look at the skull-like rock; above it the flattened terrain bore several wooden crosses, sharply outlined against the afternoon sky. Mercifully, in Pilate’s absence there were no victims writhing upon them. There was one that seemed larger and taller, that seemed to stand out from the others.

  They were moved to a deep silence. At last Alysia said softly, “That cross is going to change the world.”

  “Not just the cross,” Paulus answered. “But that he lives! If the cross had been the end, he would be just a man to admire, just a man whose teachings were followed for a while and forgotten. It’s the empty tomb that changes everything.”

  Simon spoke, after a moment. “Perhaps you and Alysia can tell me things I need to know. I would like to ride with you for a day or two. I won’t mind the walk back.”

  Paulus nodded, and they turned onto one of the lesser used roads running north. Then abruptly Simon stopped, and looked at them. “It didn’t even occur to me to ask before…where are you going?”

  Paulus’ eyes met Alysia’s; hers were shining.

  “We’re going to Rome,” she said.

  THE END

  AUTHOR’S NOTE:

  Although Alysia’s story is fictional, the “woman of sin” was real, and the brief mention of her occurs in the eighth chapter of John in the Holy Bible. Many have assumed this person was Mary Magdalene. There are no grounds for this supposition; Mary Magdalene was never referred to as a “sinful woman” or prostitute. The Bible states only that Jesus “cast out of her seven demons”. She then became a devoted follower.