CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Trembling, Cait closed her eyes and brought the cup to her lips. The dark liquid seemed to flow of itself over the rim of the cup and into her mouth. It bathed her tongue with a heavy sweetness like that of honeyed wine.
The taste so surprised her that she jerked the cup away. What was it the nuns had prayed, she wondered. The words came at once to her lips and she spoke them out:
'I believe, O God of all gods,
that Thou art the eternal Father of All Creation.
O Great King, aid Thou my soul,
with the aiding of Thy mercy,
with the aiding of Thy love,
with the aiding of Thy compassion;
Cover Thou my soul with Thy Swift Sure Hand.'
Raising the cup, she drank deep of the sweet, dark liquid. A quick warmth spread from her throat; it coursed through her body, flowing through her limbs to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her heart beat faster.
Cait looked again into the cup to see that it now contained more of the liquid than it had when she had first drunk. Her breath came faster and her temples throbbed. A strange distress crept over her; unseen needles pricked her throat and breast. What have I done? she thought.
Her breath came now in quick bursts and gasps. Fearing she might drop the sacred vessel, she carefully replaced the cup on the altar, and made to step away. Remembering the candle, she reached for it, and saw that her hand was marked by a delicate tracery of tiny lines that seemed to glow from beneath her skin-as if instead of blood her veins now pulsed with living light.
Thrusting her hand behind her, as if hiding it from sight would conceal what she had done, she closed her eyes, but-wonder of wonders!-she could now see through her eyelids. The world was vastly altered: for instead of a mountain cavern and rough stone altar, she stood alone in the centre of a low-ceilinged room. A single large window opened on to an early twilight sky where a solitary star was shining.
The objects in the room, and the room itself, possessed the distinctive clarity of a dream. All the same, she did not feel as if she was asleep; all her senses were keen and sharp-never had she been so aware, so alert, so alive.
The room in which she stood was large, and before her a low table was prepared for a meal. It was surrounded by rugs and cushions in the Eastern manner, and spread with a fine blue cloth; there were bowls of various sizes, and jars of several shapes and kinds, but there was no food.
Through the open window a soft breeze was blowing, and she could hear the dull clinking of a cattle bell outside. The soft evening air held the scent of the East, of sun-baked earth, of sandalwood and jasmine.
Stepping around the table, she moved to the window and peered out. The room overlooked the rooftops of the surrounding buildings, some of which had small palm trees in pots, or booths of striped cloth stretched over wooden frames. She heard the bell again and looked down into the narrow street below, where a shepherd in a ragged cloak herded a small flock of sheep led by a shaggy, long-necked goat.
From further up the street came the sound of laughter. A group of men entered the street-six or eight of them together-dark-haired, bearded, all dressed in loose, belted robes, and each carrying a cloak of light material rolled upon his shoulder. They walked with the easy familiarity of brothers, or soldiers; full of bluster and confidence, jostling one another good-naturedly; one or two had their arms around the shoulders of their fellows. They were happy, laughing, talking loudly, luxuriating in the exuberance of their companionship.
Cait envied their enthusiasm-so light, so effusive. Men and sheep met in the middle of the street, and there was a momentary impasse, before one of the men gave out a shout and stamped his feet, which sent the sheep leaping over one another in a frantic effort to get by. The shepherd cried out in alarm, and shaking his staff at the raucous youths he ran after his flock. The men bleated like sheep, and continued on up the street, arriving beneath Cait's window, where they stopped.
Not wishing to be seen, she backed away, and a moment later heard voices in the house in the room below her. Then she heard feet on wooden steps and the voices grew louder. They were coming up!
She spun around, searching for a place to hide, and saw, at the far end of the room, one of two wooden pillars which supported the central roof beam; beside one of the pillars stood a large woven reed basket containing rolled-up rugs. Moving to the pillar, she slipped behind it, as the company trooped into the room, talking all the while in a language Cait could not understand.
They were dark-skinned young men, most with short dark beards and long hair, which some of them wore neatly plaited with curled sidelocks at either temple, and others loose in a shaggy mane. Some of them, she saw, carried cloth bags which they proceeded to empty on to the table: bread in large, flat rounds, dried fish, and grapes. More voices sounded from the street. One of the men leaned out of the window and shouted down to those below as feet pounded on the stairs, and more men burst happily into the room to be welcomed by their fellows.
Sacks of food were produced, and jars of oil in carriers of knotted grass. Cait became aware of the smell of roasting meat, and two men appeared, carrying a whole spitted lamb on an enormous wooden platter. They had no sooner set down the roast lamb when three more men came in bearing a huge open jug of wine, into which the jars on the table were immediately plunged. Several women arrived, dressed in similar fashion to the men; the cloth of their garments was finer stuff, however, and more brightly coloured, and they wore flowers in their long, black hair. Some brought bowls heaped high with blue-black olives, and others bowls of dates stuffed with almonds.
The room was soon full of people, and still more were crowding in. With everyone talking at once the sound was a noisy babble, but the commotion served to lessen Cait's fear of discovery. Plucking up her courage, she moved to stand beside the pillar as the festivities commenced. Everywhere men and women were talking, quickly, excitedly, eyes and teeth glinting with laughter. Suddenly one of the young men approached Cait's pillar and pulled a rolled-up rug from the basket. She made to step behind the pillar once more, but the fellow merely smiled at her and hurried away.
The talking and laughter continued unabated, but Cait sensed a change in the room. Like an eddy in a swift-running stream, the happy commotion suddenly swirled with new intensity and depth, and the room suddenly seemed brighter. She felt a shiver of excitement course through the gathering-as when the king arrives in a Yuletide hall, or the bride appears at a wedding party.
She searched for the source of the commotion, and saw that more celebrants had entered and were clustered in a tight knot by the door. She strained for a glimpse of who it might be; then the crowd parted and he stepped into the room.
He wore a simple belted mantle, the sleeves of which were rolled up to the elbows. Like the other young men, his cloak was folded on his shoulder, but where the others favoured the brighter colours, his was the pale, unassuming grey of day-labourers and the poor. His beard was dark and curly, his brow even, his swarthy skin darkened by long days in the sun. His eyes were large and deep-set, his glance quick and keen.
'Master! Yeshua!' called one of the young men. 'How do you like the room we have found for you?'
'You have done well, Nathanael,' replied the master.
It was just as you said it would be.'
'Yeshua…' Cait whispered the name under her breath.
If, in appearance, he was a simple labourer, in bearing he was an emperor: head erect, shoulders straight, confidence and nobility flowed from every movement. Even from across the room, Cait could tell from his winsome smile that he was the source of the exuberance she and all the others felt. He was the sun whose presence warmed all who stood within the circle of his bright radiance.
He was smiling and laughing with the others, and as Cait watched he removed his cloak and laid it aside. He took up an empty bowl from the table and filled it with water from one of the jugs. Taking a cloth, he wrapped it around his waist and began moving among the c
rowd of friends. He stopped near to Cait's corner where two burly young men were talking; he knelt down and without a word began washing the feet of one of the fellows. The man laughed and stepped back, cheerfully declining the service, but Yeshua persisted, and so the fellow relented and allowed water to be poured over his dusty feet.
When he finished, he turned to the second man-a stocky, rough-handed fellow – who remonstrated more forcefully. They were near enough for Cait to hear what was said, and as they spoke, intelligible words gradually emerged from the welter of speech that filled the room. 'Master!' cried the man. 'What are you doing? Get up from there. Heaven forbid you should wash my feet.'
'Peace, brother,' Yeshua said. 'Let me do this.'
'Never!' protested the young man; his arms were big, and his shoulders massive. He stood a head taller than anyone around him and his voice boomed out with the force of a man who has lived his life in wide open places. At his objection, others standing nearby turned to see what was happening. 'Rather it is I who should wash you.'
'Hardheaded Kepha,' replied Yeshua, 'do you not understand? Unless I wash you now, you can have no part of my kingdom later.'
'Very well,' said the big fisherman, thrusting out his arms, 'then wash my hands and head as well.'
'Take a bath if you must, Shimeon,' answered Yeshua, resuming his duty. 'Your big feet are labour enough for me.'
The onlookers laughed at this, and Shimeon, with much huffing and puffing, suffered the humiliation of having his feet washed by his Master. Yeshua continued on, making a circuit of the room. Cait watched him as he went here and there, pausing to wash his followers' feet in his lap and dry them with the cloth he had tied around his waist. Some laughed at the novelty of the situation, others grew quiet and submitted with solemn formality.
When he finished, Yeshua returned to the table and put on his cloak once more. Then, addressing the gathering, he spread his arms wide and said, 'Beloved friends, the Passover feast is ready. Come, let us sit and enjoy it together. For I tell you the truth, I shall not eat it again until the kingdom is fulfilled.'
Cait could see that some wondered at the meaning of this invitation, but their questions were swept away in the general rush to find places at the table. Clearly, there were many more people present than would fit around the single table, and some would have to make their places on rugs spread about the room.
As the genial crowd pushed forward, two of the younger members jostled one another for a seat. One bumped the other in his haste to claim a place. His friend shoved him aside saying, 'Leave the table for the elders. Children sit over there.'
Yeshua heard them. 'What is this?' he chided gently. 'Are we now become like Roman kings who lord it over the people and claim every high place as their right?' Having drawn the attention of the Master, the two grew embarrassed and shrank back. 'May it never be. Instead, let the greatest among you be like the least. For in the kingdom to come, you will eat and drink at my table and each and every one of you will sit on thrones, judging the Twelve Tribes of Israel.'
This brought a delighted laugh from those around him. One at the end of the table called out, 'I will be King Shimeon!' To which someone else added, 'Ruler of the Fishes and Turtles in the sea!'
'Kings will you be,' affirmed the Master. 'But in the kingdom to come, the one who would rule must be as the lowliest servant in his house.'
The two slunk away, ashamed; their places were quickly taken by others and everyone settled down, some reclining on cushions, others sitting cross-legged on their rugs. When all was quiet, Yeshua blessed the food and the festal meal commenced. Soon they were all eating and talking-laughter gusted in quick bursts, most of which, Cait noticed, originated at Yeshua's side of the table.
Loath to take her eyes from him, Cait drank in each small gesture, each smile and nod, the lift of an eyebrow, the knowing glance as, like a good shepherd, he gathered his flock about him for a last meal.
How is this possible? she wondered. How is it happening? Then, fearful that her questioning might somehow destroy the vision, she silenced her doubts and gave herself wholly to the moment.
One of the women of the group rose from her place and picked up a pitcher. She passed along the table, filling cups with wine, and came to where Yeshua was sitting. She filled his cup also, and as she made to move on he reached out and took her hand in his, pulled her to him and kissed her lightly on the cheek. No one else saw this small intimacy which passed between the two; or if they did, accepted it as a commonplace unworthy of comment. But Cait felt a warmth rise within her, and felt her face grow flushed-as if it had been herself the Master had honoured in this way.
He is a man, after all, she thought.
The dark-haired woman smiled, touched his cheek, and moved on. Yeshua stood and raised his cup as if he would drink the health of his followers. Instead, he tilted back his head and said, 'Father of Lights, I give you thanks that you always hear me. Let this cup be to your honour and glory.'
Then, taking up a round flat loaf from one of the baskets, he blessed it likewise, and said, 'I am the living bread which has come down from Heaven. Anyone who eats of this bread, shall have eternal life.' With that, he ripped the loaf in half, and held out the two halves to those on either side of him. 'The bread which I give you is my flesh. Take it and divide it among you. From now on, when you gather to break bread, remember how my body was broken for you, and for the sins of the world.'
At these words, a hush descended like a heavy curtain over the room. Cait sensed a quickening in her spirit, and felt a thrill of excitement ripple through the room. Some understood, but others did not. 'What is he saying?' someone whispered. 'What is this?' asked another. 'He thinks the bread is his flesh?'
Taking up the cup once more, he held it out before him and said, 'This is my blood which is shed for you, my beloved friends. Henceforth, let all who drink from this cup, do so in memory of me until I return.'
A dissenting voice called out from among those at the table. It was Shimeon. 'Lord and Master! This is a hard thing you are saying; who can understand it? Tell us that you speak in jest.'
'I tell you the truth, anyone who will not eat the flesh of the Son of Man, nor drink his blood, shall not see the Kingdom of God. But anyone who eats my flesh, and drinks my blood will have life everlasting, for I will live in him and he will live in me.'
So saying, He passed the cup to the young man sitting at his right hand. The man accepted it, but did not raise it to his lips. Yeshua saw his reluctance. 'Do not be afraid, Yochanan. It is for you. Drink.'
At this, the man drank from the cup, and hurriedly passed it back. 'I wish you would not talk so, Master,' he said. 'You know the Temple priests are like hounds baying for your blood.'
Yeshua, his face alight with the glory to come, placed his hand over the top of the cup. 'Behold, I am making a new covenant in my blood. Rejoice! Again I say, rejoice! For the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.'
A few of his followers cheered, but most remained silent as the veiled meaning of the Master's words awakened a dark apprehension. Taking the cup, Yeshua began to move among the groups of people; he served them all, men and women alike from the same cup, and then, as he passed by the place where Caitriona was standing, he paused, and turned. 'There you are,' he said, as if he had been searching for her. 'Why hide in the shadows when you could rejoice in the light?'
Cait's breath caught in her throat. She was discovered. She gazed at him, her heart pounding in her ears, unable to speak.
'O, small of faith,' he chided gently, 'the bridegroom himself summons you to his feast. Put aside your doubts and fears and enter into the celebration.'
Unable to bear his scrutiny, she bent her head and looked away. Someone called out from the other side of the room, but Cait could not make out the words. Then she felt the Master's touch as he put his hand beneath her chin and turned her face to his.
'Woman, why do you hide?'
'Please, Master, I do not belong here,' Cait
said, scarcely aware that she had spoken. The words seemed to come of themselves. 'I am not worthy of your regard.'
'Daughter,' he said gently, 'my own dear child, do you not know that the day of salvation is near? Behold, the Lord has prepared a banquet; he has consecrated those he has invited.' He offered her the cup; when she hesitated, he placed it in her grasp and covered her hand with his own saying, 'This is my blood which is shed for you. Drink all of it.'
Cait raised the cup and drank the wine. It was raw in her mouth, but she drained all that remained. Yeshua smiled; removing his dove-grey cloak, He placed it on her shoulders. 'Blessed are you, beloved, for though you were barren, yet would your children be more numerous than stars.'
He raised his hand to her cheek, smiled, and kissed her on the forehead. Just then, one of the men who had been sitting at the table rose and hurried out. Yeshua turned. 'Go your way, Y'hudah,' he called as swift footsteps descended the stair. 'Do what you must, but do it quickly!'
Cait heard a door bang shut in the room below, and then footsteps outside in the street. Shimeon was on his feet. 'Yochanan! Ya'akov! Come with me, we will go and bring him back.'
'No, stay,' said Yeshua. 'Stay. I will be with you only a little longer. Let us rejoice while it is light, for the darkness is coming when no man can rejoice.'
These words were spoken to a stunned silence. Yeshua returned to his place at the table amidst a low rumble of murmuring which grew to fill the room as questions gave way to anxious shouting, and calling on the Master to explain the meaning of his worrying remarks.
The sound filled her ears as a meaningless babble, and Cait looked down at the cup in her hand, and clutched it to her breast. This I will keep and treasure to the end of my life, she thought. She pulled the dove-grey cloak around her shoulders, and gazed with bittersweet longing at the Master, now surrounded by his closest followers who were demanding to know what he meant. She closed her eyes again, and clung to her blessing:
Children more numerous than stars.
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