He shrugged. “Simeon took over a month in the Galilee, working with the various rebel groups to quell the uprising, and I keep reminding Pilate of that. That problem is solved.” His frown deepened. “At least for now. I’m not sure the Zealot problem will ever be solved until the whole movement is destroyed.”
His coldness frightened her a little, but even more disturbing was the thought that Simeon might not meet the deadline imposed on him by the governor and be arrested again. “But has Simeon done nothing about Ya’abin?”
Now there was a grudging admiration in his eyes. “At first I thought his strategy was just plain wrong. Ya’abin is terrorizing all of Judea and Perea. He raids caravans, customs houses, and inns at will. He’s got a hundred men, all on horseback and heavily armed. I expected Simeon to take his band—he has about two dozen men—and perhaps recruit some of the other Zealot bands, and go after Ya’abin directly. But he has not, and that is what is making the governor chafe a little.”
“So what is he doing? I thought you said you would be willing to give them as many men as they needed to get Ya’abin.”
“I did, but Simeon practically spat in my face at that suggestion. No, his strategy is very different, and now I have to admit it makes a perverse kind of sense. Just before I left, I got a report from Sextus Rubrius. I brought him down to Jerusalem to serve as a liaison with Simeon. They know each other and Simeon trusts him.”
Miriam only nodded. Marcus had no idea that she had met Sextus the morning he had come to tell the family about Simeon’s arrest.
“Anyway, after calming things down in the Galilee, Simeon and Yehuda went south.”
“Just the two of them?”
“That’s right. From what Sextus says, even Yehuda had a problem with this strategy of Simeon’s. He is impatient and wants to strike at Ya’abin immediately. Even though they are greatly outnumbered, Yehuda thinks they should use hit-and-run tactics, strike from ambush, whittle Ya’abin’s forces down a little at a time. His idea is that a cup of surprise is worth a bucket of power. But Simeon won’t. He refuses to risk losing men in a fruitless confrontation.”
Miriam chose her next words carefully. “While Livia and I were in the Galilee, we heard that Simeon and his family had become followers of a man named Jesus, who advocates peace and love.”
“That is true. Sextus has reported the same thing, and evidently this is partly what is driving Simeon to do what he is doing. It is also what is frustrating his partner.” He absently began to rub his arm and Miriam looked down. His fingers were moving across the long, white scar there. “I find it hard to believe, actually,” he said. “The Javelin filled with love and peace? But that’s what they are saying.”
“So what is Simeon doing?” she asked.
“According to Sextus, thus far all he’s done is lay a foundation for action.”
“A foundation?”
“As you probably know, there are nomads who live in the deserts of Judea, Arabian shepherds who run their sheep and goats there.”
“Yes, I’ve seen them in their black tents many times.”
“Well, to survive in the wilderness, Ya’abin has been preying on those nomads. He demands a tribute of food and animals from them and sometimes takes their women. They greatly fear and hate him.”
“That would be just like him,” Miriam said, filled with loathing.
“A few months ago, Simeon and Yehuda went south. They quietly began circulating among these desert people, camping out in the wilderness, letting them gradually know of their presence. Then they started using the fund your father set up to restore what these nomads have lost to Ya’abin. I guess in one case, five or six of Ya’abin’s men came into the camp where Simeon and Yehuda happened to be staying. They tried to take the daughter of the old chieftain. Simeon and Yehuda intervened and sent the men back to Ya’abin bloodied and broken.”
Miriam’s eyes were glowing. That sounded more like the Simeon she knew. “So he is trying to win their trust.”
“Exactly. And according to Sextus, he has completely succeeded. The old chieftain sent word to all the tribes that they were to help Simeon and Yehuda in any way possible. Simeon’s plan is to use the shepherds as his eyes and ears when he is finally ready to go after Ya’abin. As you probably know, our biggest problem was that we could never find exactly where Ya’abin was.
“Anyway, just before I left, Sextus sent word that Yehuda and Simeon were ready to move to the next step. They went back up to the Galilee to gather their band.”
“But you said he has only about two dozen men.”
“Simeon’s got his own way of doing things, and nothing is going to change his mind. Six months ago, I would have agreed with Pilate. Now I’ve told the governor that we need to see what develops.”
“But you think it will work?”
He considered her question. “Simeon has made some mistakes, but he is no fool. I’ll be anxious to get a report when I get back.” Then he gave her a searching look. “You seem very interested in this Simeon.”
She flushed a little. “Because I want to go home. We can’t do that until Ya’abin is captured.”
That made sense and seemed to satisfy him. “Your father told me you like Rome. He seemed very pleased with your change of attitude.”
“I do, Marcus. I love Rome.” She motioned toward the Forum below them. “I love this place. I’ve made many friends here, and your family has been wonderful, especially your mother. We have become very close. But it’s not my home.”
He smiled with pleasure. “Mother wrote me and said the same. She likes you very much, Miriam.”
“And I like her. Livia and I often go out to see her.”
“Have you been able to keep busy?” he asked, wondering if she might be getting bored.
“Oh, yes. Your father found me a tutor, and I have been studying Latin.”
“You spoke it flawlessly before,” he said. “But now you sound like a native.”
“Thank you. And I love the libraries here. I thought my father had a wonderful collection of books, but almost every family here has a library. I have always loved to read.”
“Many of those families have no idea what they have,” he said dryly. “I’m glad someone is looking at their collections.”
“And we are constantly being invited to dinners and social gatherings,” she went on. “In fact, about a month ago, we even went to a banquet given by Tiberias himself, as guests of your father.”
“Really?”
She laughed. “It sounds much more impressive than it was. There were over four hundred people there, and if the emperor was aware of our presence, he gave no indication of it.”
Then as he chuckled at that, she grew more serious. “But if you haven’t been home yet, you must go and see your family. We can talk later.”
“Yes, I am eager to see them too. My brother happens to be in Rome right now as well.”
“For your father’s birthday?”
“Yes, you know about that?”
“Your mother sent us an invitation.”
“Good. I haven’t seen Quintus in almost three years. He’s a tribune with the Sixth Legion in Iberia.”
“Then go. Perhaps you could have dinner with Father and me tomorrow.”
He stood. “I would like that. Very much. Can I walk you back to your apartment?”
She shook her head. “The day is still young, and it’s so pleasant. I think I’ll just sit here for awhile.”
“Then I shall see you tomorrow.” As he turned, he suddenly remembered something. “And what of the slave hunter and his search for Livia’s brother? I have received no report for several months. Has anything happened?”
Miriam shook her head slowly. “He came one time shortly after you left. He said he had some business in Macedonia and would be gone a couple of months but then would contact us again and give the matter his first priority. He’s never been back.”
“Then I shall make that my first priority while I am here.”<
br />
“Thank you, Marcus. Livia has been really discouraged.”
He lifted a hand in salute. “Tomorrow, then.”
III
“Miriam!”
For the second time that morning, Miriam turned to see who was calling her name. She still sat in the place where she and Marcus had talked, so she stood and moved toward the walkway that led up the Palatine Hill. And then she saw Livia. Livia had already seen her and was coming swiftly toward her.
“I thought I would never find you,” she said as she came up. “I’ve been all over the Forum.”
Miriam grabbed her hand. “You’ll never believe who came this morning.”
“Marcus? Yes, your father told me that when I went over to your house to find you.”
When Marcus had found an apartment for Mordechai and his daughter in one of the expensive insulae, or multistoried apartment complexes in Rome, he had arranged for a much smaller apartment just a block away for Livia. Since they had fully expected that Livia’s brother would be found and freed within a matter of weeks, it was decided it would be better for them to have their own place.
Though Livia’s brother had not been found, the apartment nevertheless proved to be a blessing. Even after eight months, things were still strained between Miriam and her father. In public, he treated her with studied amiability or cool affection, but alone, he still harbored a smouldering anger over her betrayal. Because of that, Miriam had never brought up the question of adopting Livia, knowing it would only give him an opening to lash out at both of them again. So while Miriam missed having Livia actually living with her, it lessened the complications with her father. And in fact, Miriam spent almost as much time at Livia’s place as she did at home, which provided a welcome escape from the cold indifference she felt there.
“I was hoping that Marcus had come with news of Ya’abin’s capture so that we could go home, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
Livia tried not to look relieved. For the past several months she had been dreading the possibility that word would come that they could return to Judea before they had found Drusus. She thought about her younger brother every day, her anxiety growing that he might never be found.
She reached into the folds of her robes. “A letter came this morning,” she said. She waved a folded piece of paper. “It was delivered just about an hour ago.”
Miriam saw that this was not the usual form of correspondence used by the Romans. Paper was very expensive, and parchment was even more so. So, even among the upper classes who could afford such luxury, unless it was of unusual length or of special importance, the typical “letter” in Rome was written on thin wooden tablets with indented centers that were filled with wax. One wrote the message in the wax with a stylus; once the letter was read, the recipient could smooth the wax and use the boards over again. Often two or three tablets would be held together with wire loops to form a small “book.” The invitation they had received two days before to attend the birthday celebration of Marcus’s father had been such a letter.
Livia held out the paper to her, and Miriam saw three things at once. The name on the front was “Livia of Alexandria, servant of Miriam bat Mordechai ben Uzziel.” Second, the top line of writing was in Aramaic, not Latin. Third, someone had scratched that out and written the translation in Latin directly beneath it. The paper was quite coarse, a form of papyrus borrowed from the Egyptians. The ink was black, made from lampblack and various resinous gums. There were smudges on the paper and it was creased in several places, showing it had been handled a great deal. Miriam snatched it eagerly. “From Simeon?”
Livia smiled. “No, but from his mother.”
“That’s what I meant,” she said quickly. “From Simeon’s family.”
“Yes. I think Deborah wrote it.”
“You think?”
Livia nodded. “It is written in Aramaic. But I did recognize Deborah’s name.” Though Livia spoke Aramaic well, there were not many occasions for a servant to become proficient in reading.
Then Miriam remembered something. When Miriam had written Simeon’s family several months before, she warned Deborah not to send a letter directly back to her. If Miriam’s father knew she was corresponding with Simeon’s family, it would be disastrous. So she had given specific instructions on how to get a letter to Livia. Obviously, it had worked.
“Let’s read it together,” she said. She moved back to the spot overlooking the Forum, and they both sat down. Miriam carefully unfolded the paper and smoothed it out. Feeling her heart racing a little with anticipation, she lifted it and began to read.
Greetings from Deborah and David ben Joseph of Capernaum and all the family.
The Aramaic letters were small and carefully written. Miriam thought she knew why. Aramaic was a much more compact and efficient language than Latin or Greek. By writing small, Deborah had gotten easily twice as much on the sheet as she would have otherwise.
It is our deepest hope that the bearer of this letter proves to be a man of integrity. He is a trader in wheat that David has worked with in Ptolemais for several years. He claims to know Rome well and promises to carefully follow the directions Miriam sent in her letter. We are sending a duplicate letter by another means, in case this one does not come through. We gave this man specific instructions to put it only into Livia’s hands.
“Yes,” Livia said, “the man who brought it asked me several questions before he would turn it over.”
Miriam looked at the bottom of the page. It was common for a letter writer to date a letter after concluding it. And there it was: “It is dated the twentieth of January, so it took almost eight weeks to get here.”
“Actually, the man apologized for that,” Livia explained. “He arrived in Rome a fortnight ago, but was so involved in business that he could not take time to find us.”
Miriam nodded. That made more sense. Typically a letter between Israel and Rome took about three weeks in transit, but that could be increased dramatically depending on who carried it and when they were traveling.
It has now been six months since you sailed for Rome, and will be close to seven or eight when this finally reaches you. Much has happened in that time that will interest you. First, news of the family. This for Livia. Boaz made me promise to give his best wishes to his “Livie” and wants you to tell him if you have seen any bears yet.
Both women laughed at that, their eyes softening at the memory of the family.
Ephraim and Rachel send their love. Rachel gave us some wonderful news during Hanukkah celebration a little over a month ago. They will present us with our third grandchild late this summer.
Livia clapped her hands. “Wonderful! Deborah must be thrilled.”
Miriam smiled and read on.
Rachel hopes it is a sister for Esther, but Ephraim feels like it will be another boy. Esther will have none of that, however, and the other day told her father that she has told Heavenly Father that if he must send a boy to the family, to save it for next time. She wants a sister.
“Can’t you just see her,” Miriam said, “hands on her hips, those beautiful dark eyes flashing, and telling Heavenly Father how to run things in heaven?”
“Knowing Esther, I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t get her wish. I listened to her pray several nights. She has complete faith and does not find it at all unnatural to speak with God as though he was her actual father and right there in the room with her.”
Miriam was nodding. She too had listened to Esther’s prayers and been touched by her simple faith.
Simeon was here last month for Hanukkah. Things are proceeding with his quest in the wilderness of Judea but not as rapidly as he hoped. Your father, Miriam, will probably have word of his progress from the Romans and so I will say no more of that, since space is limited. With Simeon gone, Leah takes a more and more important role in helping me keep the books for her father and is proving to be gifted in this area. David found a possible match for her a few months ago, but she seems li
ttle interested. Miriam, she said you would understand why.
Joseph, who will be twelve in a few months, has started to grow like a thorn bush. He still practices with his bow and has now taken up the javelin as well. With Simeon in the south, that is all Joseph talks about anymore. He hopes against hope that they won’t catch Ya’abin until he is old enough to join the band. Hopefully, once this is over, Simeon can help Joseph see that there are better ways to prepare for life.
“I miss them, Livia,” Miriam said wistfully. “I miss the family.”
“As do I.”
Simeon said that if I write to you, I was to tell you that he fears you will find Rome too much to your liking. He specifically asked that I warn you to be wary around Marcus. Simeon believes that you are naive in believing him to be a man of integrity and honor. Those are his words, not mine. I think he still chafes a little over Marcus’s role in his betrayal—and the fact that on more than one occasion, this man has nearly cost Simeon his life. When he said that, however, David told him of your role in securing his release. He did not know that and was greatly surprised. He was much subdued after that.
Miriam lowered the letter to her lap, obviously stung. “Well,” she sniffed, “that’s a nice thing to say.”
Livia gave her an odd look, then looked away.
“What?” Miriam demanded. “What’s that look supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Livia!”
“Well, if the truth were known, I worry a little about that too.”
“What?”
Livia finally met her eyes. “Would you like me to speak as your servant or as your sister?”
Miriam was taken aback. “As a sister, of course.”
“You would find it easier if I spoke as your servant, because then I would not be free to share my real feelings.”
“Livia, just tell me!”
“All right.” She took a quick breath. “When we first arrived, all you could do was talk about Jerusalem and Capernaum, about how soon we could return. I haven’t heard you say that for some time.”
Miriam’s face flushed angrily. “The first thing I asked Marcus today was if Ya’abin had been caught. I’m going to ask Father tonight if we can’t return with Marcus anyway.”
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