The Expected One (36 page)

Mary wiped the tears away as Martha continued. “Lazarus is leaving for Jerusalem on business. He will not be back until late tomorrow night. The Nazarenes will be here in Bethany, meeting at the house of Simon.”

Mary’s eyes grew huge as she listened. Was this really obedient, pious Martha, laying out a plan for subterfuge? “Simon? You mean in that house?”

Mary pointed to the house in question, which was easily visible from their own estate. Martha nodded.

“If you are very careful and entirely discreet, I will look in the other direction if you choose to visit your oldest friends.”

Mary threw her arms around Martha and squealed, “I love you!”

“Shh!” Martha broke away from Mary’s grip, looking around to be sure they had not been observed. “If Lazarus comes to see you before he leaves for Jerusalem, you must be furious with him. He can suspect nothing or we are both in terrible trouble.”

Mary nodded solemnly at Martha, trying hard not to smile. Martha scurried back into the house to see Lazarus off, leaving Mary dancing beneath the olive trees.

Mary approached the house of Simon from a side entrance, covering her recognizable copper hair with one of her heavier veils as she walked. She gave the word of admittance and was allowed inside immediately, where she was delighted to see a number of familiar faces. She looked quickly around the room but did not yet see the most important and beloved faces, as Easa had not arrived with his mother. She had little time to think about this as she was startled from behind by a young woman’s voice shouting her name.

Mary turned to see the exquisite smile of Salome, the daughter of Herodias and stepdaughter to the tetrarch of Galilee, Herod. Mary squealed in recognition, as they had trained together at the feet of the Great Mary. They embraced happily and with warmth.

“What are you doing this far from home?” Mary asked her.

“My mother has given me permission to follow Easa and continue my training so that I might take the seven veils.” The seven veils were worn only by women who had been initiated as high priestesses. “Herod Antipas gives my mother whatever she desires, and besides, he is sympathetic to the Nazarenes. It is only the Baptizer he detests.”

Salome covered her mouth immediately as the words slipped out. She appeared mortified. “I’m sorry. I forget.”

Mary smiled at her sadly. “No, Salome, do not apologize. Sometimes I forget myself.”

Salome looked immensely sympathetic. “Is it horrible for you?”

Mary shook her head. She loved Salome like a sister, and indeed they referred to each other by that title, which was traditional for Nazarene priestesses. But Mary was still a princess and schooled to behave as one. She would not speak ill of her husband no matter what the company. “No, it’s not horrible. I rarely see John.”

Salome rushed through her words as if she felt the need to make further amends for her gaffe. “I hope I didn’t offend you, sister. It’s just that the Baptizer says terrible things about my mother. He calls her a whore and an adulteress.”

Mary nodded. She had heard all of these things. Salome’s mother, Herodias, was the granddaughter of Herod the Great and had inherited some of the infamous king’s headstrong traits. She put aside her first husband to marry Herod Antipas, who ruled Galilee, and the tetrarch had taken similar action by divorcing his Arabian wife to marry Herodias. John had been outraged that a Jewish monarch would show such blatant disregard for the law and had openly denounced the marriage of Herod Antipas to Herodias as adultery. Thus far, Herod had expressed annoyance but showed little interest in taking real action against John for his condemnation. As tetrarch of Galilee he had enough to do with juggling the whims of a Caesar and the demands of this difficult outpost; he didn’t need the added headache of an abrasive ascetic prophet.

The fact that Herodias was a Nazarene certainly didn’t help her case with John, nor did it improve John’s opinion of Nazarene culture. It further proved why women should never be allowed positions of authority or even social freedoms; clearly, it turned them into wantons. John often used Herod and Herodias as examples of Nazarene corruption.

But while the Baptizer made enemies of the tetrarch, Easa was much admired by Herod’s wife. Herodias had sent her only daughter to begin training in The Way when she came of age. Salome and Mary had become very close during their time together in Galilee, further bonded in their spiritual love for the Great Mary and her son.

“Our sister Veronica is here,” Salome said, anxious to change the subject. Simon’s niece, Veronica, was a lovely and deeply spiritual young woman who had trained with them at the home of Easa’s mother. Mary loved Veronica and looked around for the face of her cherished friend.

“There she is!” Salome grabbed Mary’s hand and pulled her across the room to a now-beaming Veronica. The three women, sisters in the Nazarene creed, embraced warmly. But they had little further opportunity for discussion as Easa entered the room.

He was followed by his mother and two younger brothers, James and Jude, as well as the fishermen brothers from Galilee and a dourlooking man who Mary believed to be called Philip. Easa greeted everyone in the room but stopped in front of Mary. He embraced her warmly, but with the propriety and respect due to a noblewoman who was another man’s wife. He gave her a long look to indicate his surprise that she had disobeyed her brother, but said nothing.

Mary smiled up at him and put her hand over her heart. “The Kingdom of God is in my heart, and no oppressor can take it from me.”

Easa returned the smile, an expression of utmost warmth, then moved to the front of the room and began to teach.

It was a beautiful night, filled with the love of friends and the word of The Way. Mary had almost forgotten how important the Word had become to her and what an inspirational teacher Easa was. But to sit at his feet and listen to his preaching was to experience the Kingdom of God here on earth. She could not imagine how anyone could condemn such beautiful words, or why someone would willfully deny those teachings of love, compassion, and charity.

As Easa rose to take his leave, he walked toward Mary and touched her gently on the belly.

“You are with child, little dove.”

Mary gasped. John had stayed for a night to fulfill his duties within the last season, but she had no idea that she had conceived. “You are sure?”

Easa nodded. “A male child grows in your womb. Keep well, little one. For I would see you deliver in safety.”

A shadow crossed his face for the briefest moment. “Tell your brother that you must spend your confinement in Galilee. Ask that he allow you to leave in the morning at first light.”

Mary was puzzled by this. Bethany was close to Jerusalem, and the finest midwives and medicine were at hand if there were any complications. It made sense for her to stay here, and Lazarus wouldn’t be back for another full day. But Easa had seen something in that moment of shadow, something that bade him urge her to leave Bethany for the shores of Galilee immediately.

What Mary could not know was that in a clear moment of prophecy, Easa had seen the need to get her as far away from John as possible.

“Whore!” John screamed as he slapped Mary again and again. “I knew it was too late for you and your wanton Nazarene ways. How dare you disobey your husband and your brother!”

Martha and Lazarus were at the far side of the Bethany house, but they could hear the violence unfolding. Martha cried softly from her place on the bed as she listened to the blows fall on Mary’s tiny frame. This was her fault. She had encouraged Mary to disobey the explicit orders of her husband and her brother. Martha felt that she was the one who deserved the beating.

Lazarus sat immobile, frozen with fear and helplessness. He was furious with Martha and Mary, but far more concerned with the beating his sister was receiving at the hands of her husband. He was utterly powerless to do anything about it. To intervene would add further insult to John, something he did not dare do. Besides, it was common for a husband to beat a disobedient wife. In the more traditional households, it was even expected. John’s actions were in keeping with his interpretation of the law.

They still didn’t know how John had come to discover Mary’s presence at the Nazarene gathering. Was there an informer among them the previous night? Or was John’s gift of prophecy so clear that he saw Mary in his own visions?

Whatever the catalyst, John had come to Bethany the following afternoon in a fit of uncontrolled rage and was determined to punish everyone involved in the deception. He knew his young wife had been sitting devotedly at the feet of his cousin the night before. Worse, she sat with the wanton spawn of the whore Herodias. For Mary to flaunt her Nazarene sympathies and her affiliation with Salome was a source of shame and embarrassment to John. It had the potential to damage his reputation.

Damn the woman! Didn’t she understand that any smirch on his name could impact his work and diminish the message of God? This was proof that women had no sense, no ability to think things through to their consequences. Females were sinful creatures by nature, daughters of Eve and Jezebel. John was beginning to conclude that perhaps they were all beyond redemption.

John shouted these things and more as he continued his assault. Mary huddled in the corner with her arms over her head in a futile effort to protect her face. It was too late; a purplish circle was spreading around one eye, and her lower lip was swollen and bleeding where the back of his hand had caused a tooth to tear it open. She managed to cry out, “Stop, you’ll hurt the baby.”

John stayed his hand from the next blow. “What did you say?”

Mary breathed deeply in an effort to calm herself. “I am with child.”

John regarded her coldly. “You are a Nazarene whore who spent the night in the home of another man without a chaperone. I cannot even be sure that the child is mine.”

Mary spoke slowly as she attempted to stand. “I am not what you call me. I came to you as a virgin bride, and I have never been with any man save you, my husband under the law.” She emphasized these last five words. “You are angry that I disobeyed you, and I deserve your anger.”

She stood her ground now. A full head shorter than he, she drew herself up and looked into his face. “But your child does not deserve to be questioned. He will be a prince of our people one day.”

John made a guttural noise in his throat and turned his back to leave. “I will deliver the strict terms of your confinement to Lazarus.” He opened the door and stalked out into the corridor. Without ever looking back, he issued a final verbal blow.

“If that child is female, I will gladly forsake you both.”