Author: jonny (Page 5 of 8)

Chapter Eleven

The small troupe of priests arrived at the market in the late afternoon. It was still several hours before dusk and they had plenty of time to barter for goods.

The priests were forced to proceed in a single file as they entered the market place. Zechariah and Berechiah led the way in between the shops and customers crowding the street.

The city was organized in part by the trade guilds which each tradesman belonged to. Then there were the inhabitants who supported themselves in other ways. The market place was an area of the city where goods could be bought and sold to travelers not wishing to visit each guild, though they could also trade directly with the guilds, usually at lower prices.

“Zechariah,” Bukki said. “Pashur, Jerimoth and I are going to go visit the silversmith guild. We need some new tools. We will see you at the Temple.”

“See you there,” Zechariah replied.

Bukki, Pashur and Jerimoth huddled for a moment to decide on a route out of the market and hurried on their way.

“I am going to go ahead to the Temple,”  Abiathar said.

“My sons and I will join you,” Berechiah said.

“Me too,” Libni said.

“See you there,” Zechariah replied.

Zechariah climbed off the donkey he had been riding on. He, along with along with Abishua, Ithamar, Phinehas, Jahzerah, Micah and Samuel, all shepherds by trade, led their pack animals towards the shops that traded wool and linen.

The sound and smell of animals filled the air. Goats, sheep, cattle, pheasants, doves, pretty much any animal needed for Temple worship or food was on display.

The men worked their way slowly, examining many of the goods for sale. Visits to Jerusalem usually only happened during their priestly weeks. The goods offered did not change much between visits, but one never know what was to be found.

“Abishua,” Ithamar called out to his friend.

Abishua stopped and waited for Ithamar to catch up with him. He watched him work his way past the pack animals and other shoppers who filled the narrow street.

“So, Naomi decided not to visit her parents this trip,” he said when he reached Abishua.

“Yes, she did not want to explain why they lack grand children again,” he replied.

“Sooo, she has left that small detail up to you did she,” he said and playfully punched his friend on the arm.

“Something like that,” he replied.

“How do you think Anna and Gershom will respond?”

“How do you think?”

“You know you have to visit them today and tell them. They know it is your week to be here.”

“Hmm, maybe I’ll go see them.”

“Maybe. You must be a glutton for punishment,” Ithamar said.

“Not really. If I delay telling them, I may be able to avoid the daily tongue lashings. I normally visit them once a day while I am here.”

“I do not envy you my friend. I am glad my in-laws live near my home.”

“I suspect they will visit within a few weeks after I head home,” Abishua replied.

Zechariah led them around a corner and headed for the wool and cloth shops just down the street.

“Priests, come here,” a merchant cried out to Abishua and Ithamar. “Come here and see these silk prayer shawls. They were made right here in Jerusalem. Made from the finest imported silk from Asia.”

“You can keep them for the tourists, I have all the prayer shawls I need.” Abishua replied.

The fragrant smell of spices drifted in their direction.

“Naomi always likes to see what spices are available when we visit,” Abishua said.

The two men entered into the small shop selling incense and embalming spices and began examining the variety on display. An old toothless man smiled at them. He motioned for them to remove the lids to get a better smell. He set a small incense burner on the table for them. He took a pair of tongs and extracted a hot coal from an oven next to him and set it in the burner. Abishua took a pinch of incense and sprinkled it on the hot coal. Leaning over he guided the smoke with his hand towards his nose.

“She would love this fragrance,” he said. He took a pinch from another canister and sprinkled it on the coal. He let the smoke drift up into his face.

“I would like some of these two,” he told the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper packaged the incense for him. Abishua paid him and the two priests exited the shop. They quickly caught up with Zechariah who had two donkeys with wool, thread and cloth tied to them. Working the animals through the crowd was a slow process.

Zechariah turned another corner and stopped dead in his tracks. Blocking their path were four Roman soldiers. They were examining some wooden and silver trinkets when Cassian noticed the priests behind them.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” Cassian said.

Zechariah looked at them and cast his eyes towards the cobblestones.

“Just a few priests passing by you,” he said.

Cassian elbowed Felix. The two men smiled at one another.

“Priests? Shouldn’t you be at the Temple? What are you doing wandering the streets?” Felix said.

Octavius and Rufinus, the other two soldiers also turned their attention upon the priests. All traffic on the street stopped. Shopkeepers sat frozen while they watched. Their customers quickly backed away from the soldiers and priests.

The four of them surrounded the priests and began examining Zechariah’s loaded donkeys.

“What have we here priest?” Octavius said. “Taxes for Caesar?”

“Just a few promised goods I am delivering to a merchant.”

“Which merchant?” Octavius said.

“Eleazar,” Zechariah replied.

“Who is this Eleazar?” Octavius said.

“Just a humble wool and cloth merchant.”

“Have you paid you taxes for these goods?” Octavius said. He smiled at the other three soldiers and moved closer to Zechariah. “Well, priest. Have you paid your taxes for these goods?”

“I have just arrived in Jerusalem with them. I always pay my taxes on my goods,” Zechariah said.

“Hmmm, really. And do you always go to your merchant first to sell your goods before they can be taxed?”

“There is a publican next to Eleazar’s shop. He always accepts my taxes for Caesar.”

“Perhaps I can save him the trouble today. What do you have here?”

“Just some wool, some thread and some cloth,” Zechariah replied.

Abishua picked at a stray thread in the hem of his sleeve. He had never been this close to a Roman soldier before. He had heard stories of them extorting taxes. They seemed intent on troubling Zechariah.

He studied their dress as he listened. Only one of them, Octavius, wore a helmet. The dull greenish brown metal looked like unpolished brass. It had metal face guards, about two inches wide, that extended down from the cap in front of the ears then followed along the jaw bone. The back of the helmet had a flange that covered the back of the neck. He did not recognize the symbol cast on the side of the helmet.

All of them had tunics which extended below the other armor they wore. It reached about to their knees. Over the tunic from their shoulders to their waists they wore something made from metal but Abishua wasn’t sure what it was, small rings of metal fastened together by metal threads. Octavius also wore a scarf around his neck that hung down in front.

They each wore sandals which nearly completely covered their feet and ankles. The strips of leather were tied with leather strips that circled their ankles.

“Do you have any coins priest?” Octavius said.

“No,” Zechariah replied.

“What about you?” Octavius asked Abishua.

“Just a few denarius,” he responded.

“And the rest of you,” he demanded.

“I carry a few coins for my sons and I,” Samuel said.

The soldier nearest to Abishua gripped the handle of his sword. He pulled it out slightly and looked Abishua in the eye. Abishua quickly looked down at the cobblestones.

Octavius loosened the straps holding the cloth on one of the donkeys. The bundle fell to the ground and he ordered Zechariah to untie the bundle.

Zechariah knelt down and untied the bundle of cloth letting it lay flat on the street.

“Lay the cloth over the back of your donkey here so I may see it better,” Octavius said.

“I’ll get that for you Zechariah,” Abishua said.

He quickly picked up the cloth and placed it on the donkey’s back.

Octavius examined the various panels of cloth one layer at a time.

“What do you think Felix. Can a Hebrew weave cloth as well as an Egyptian or a Roman?”

Felix thumbed through the stack of linen.

“Worthless. I would never wear anything as poorly weaved as this,” Felix said. He tossed the stack of linen off the donkey back to the ground.

“These priests have taken enough of my time. Give me a coin,” he said to Abishua.

Abishua opened his small leather coin pouch and handed a coin to Felix.

“Now, one more for each of my friends.”

Abishua quickly handed him three more coins.

“Tell Eleazar we said hello,” Octavius said. “Tell the publican you have paid your taxes.”

The four soldiers pressed their way past the priests and onlookers and disappeared around the corner.

Ithamar and Phinehas gathered the cloth and bundled it back up for Zechariah. They tied it back on the donkey while the shopkeepers and onlookers resumed trading. Once the bundle was securely fastened back on the donkey the priests headed towards Eleazar’s shop.

“Have you ever had a run in with Roman soldiers before,” Abishua asked Zechariah.

“Not for a few years. It is always the same. They have no respect for God’s people. They take what they want then laugh at you. God will repay them.”

“I had to deal with them once,” Samuel commented. ”They just took my donkey’s reigns out of my hand and told me to keep walking. I started to resist and they drew swords. Even when I threatened to go to the Governor they just laughed. Unless you are a Roman citizen there is not much you can do.”

“I have seen it go in cycles,” Zechariah said. “Every ten years or so the we get so fed up we threaten to revolt and the Governor fears he will get in trouble with Rome so he puts a few soldiers in jail for a week or two until we calm down. The soldiers back off for a while. After a few months they ease back into the same old crap they were dong before.”

“Yes,” Samuel said. “We are just cattle to them, no less than cattle.”

They neared the edge of the city where the linen merchants housed their sheep and goats. Their shops had small corrals in between the buildings wherever they could fit them in. Several were shearing their sheep in a small corral used for animal auctions.

“Zechariah,” Eleazar shouted. “My old friend. How are you?”

“Eleazar, my friend,” Zechariah said.

The two men embraced one another.

“Samuel,” Eleazar said and embraced him also.

“You have brought your sons again.”

He embraced each and then looked at Abishua.

“You have brought a new friend for me to meet. How wonderful. I am Eleazar, and you are?”

“My name is Abishua,” he said.

“Welcome my friend. Here let me take your donkeys for you.”

Eleazar grabbed the reigns of the donkeys and led the animals to a small corral next to his shop. Ithamar and Phinehas helped him to untie the bundles of linen and wool. After the animals were unburdened he opened the gate to the corral. Ithamar and Phinehas led the animals in and poured some fresh water in the trough for them. The donkeys quietly quenched their thirst.

They closed up the corral and carried the bundles inside the shop.

“Here, please sit,” Eleazar said.

He grabbed a bowel and stepped outside to get some water for them to wash their feet. He brought it back in and set it in front of Zechariah and handed him a towel. He filled another bowl with water for them to wash their hands, then he poured some wine for the priests as they washed their feet and hands.

“It is good to see you again my friend. How is Elizabeth? I trust she is as feisty as ever.”

Zechariah laughed. “You know how she is. Sometimes I think that woman wants to drive me crazy.”

“Yes, I think they all do,” Samuel said.

Eleazar handed out goblets of wine to the priests. Each took a long drink.

“We have been on the road all afternoon it seems,” said Jahzerah. “Some Roman soldiers just down the street made us pay them one coin for each of them. Taxes for our goods they claimed. We should drive them from our land, get rid of the dogs!”

“Be careful how loud you talk my friend. They have ears in more places than you would imagine,” Eleazar said. “We would drive them out if we were strong enough. I have seen just how large the Roman army is, at least some parts of it. They would squash us like bugs, kill us all off if we rose up against them.”

“They are the dogs,” Micah said.

Samuel laughed quietly. “Oh the ignorance of youth, eh, Zechariah? We were once full of ideas and bravery. We can drive them out. Oh, how we dreamed for independence in those days. But, the Romans, they are just too many, too strong. Suicide is what revolt would bring, suicide. And the women and children, they would use them to disgrace us more. Rape, slavery, death. That is all we would get if we tried to drive them out.”

“Aren’t we already slaves! With God’s help we could drive them out, drive them all the way back to Rome,” Micah said.

He took another drink of wine and eyed everyone, “I hear there are those who believe it is time. Even where we live, there is talk amongst the travelers coming and going.”

“Talk is cheap my young friend,” Eleazar said. “Enough, enough. Tell me Abishua, have you a wife?”

Yes, her name is Naomi. She normally comes with me. We usually go straight to her parents home but she did not come this trip.”

“Well, I should like to meet her sometime. And my Sarah would like to meet her also. Are you a shepherd?”

“Yes, I have around seventy sheep. I usually sell all my wool to merchants who come through my town. I get a fair price and I do not have to bring it here to Jerusalem. We do not spin or weave the wool. We just shear the sheep and sell it.”

“Shepherding is a good life. I was a shepherd when I was younger. I lived not too far from Zechariah. We used to shear our sheep together. Elizabeth would spin my wool for me. Those were days,” he said and slapped Zechariah on the leg.”

Sarah came in the door carrying a small sack of food.

“Zechariah, Samuel, oh my. I forgot it was your week. How is Elizabeth?” she said as she navigated around the men to a table where she could sit her groceries down.

“Oh, don’t get up. You must be famished. Let me get you some broth and bread.”

“Elizabeth said she wants you and Eleazar to come visit. It has been so long,” Zechariah said.

“Yes. Did you bring some cloth, some of her rugs?”

“It is all there in the bundles. She has out done herself this time,” Zechariah said as he pointed to the bundles.

“Here, eat,” Sarah said as she set the bread and broth on the table.

Eleazar said a quick blessing and tore the pieces of flatbread into halves and passed them to the priests. Each tore off a piece and passed it along. They began dipping the bread in the broth and eating. Sarah sat a bowl with some grapes and dates in it on the table beside the broth.

“Eleazar, who has a good cow for sale at a fair price?” Zechariah asked.

“Hm, a good cow at a fair price? You are in Jerusalem Zechariah. Not even I can get a good cow for a fair price. I am not even sure you could find a good cow in Jerusalem these days. Maybe at the Temple, but you know how those merchants inflate the price of everything.”

“Perhaps he get a bad cow for a fair price?” Jahzerah said.

The men laughed.

“Of course, you would have to look very, very close to ensure it is a cow after all. Maybe it would just be a donkey in a cowhide,” Micah said.

“Anything is possible here in Jerusalem. Ever since the Romans have come things have changed, and not for the better. The Sanhedrin still govern for the most part, but Caesar still has the final say,” Eleazar said.

Yes,” said Samuel. “And those he appoints as governors.”

Never the less, I am looking for a cow to purchase or trade for. Can you ask around for me Eleazar?”

“Consider it done.”

“We had better go to the Temple now,” Samuel said. “We need to be there before sundown. Eleazar, your hospitality is always a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is mine old friend.”

The priests rose and filed out the door into the busy street. Abishua and Ithamar retrieved the donkeys from the corral as Zechariah and Eleazar hugged goodbye. Eleazar then hugged each of the priests and spoke a short blessing over each.

Sarah came out of the house and handed each priest a small cake wrapped in linen.

“Sarah, you didn’t have to,” Zechariah said.

“Eleazar has grown tired of my cakes. He doesn’t appreciate them anymore, unlike our friends from afar.”

“Your cakes are good, but it is your goat stew that really hits the spot for me,” Eleazar said.

“Goodbye friends,” Sarah said then slipped back into the house.

“Eleazar, I will see you at the end of the week to collect my cow. I trust the cloth and wool will be a fair trade.”

“In Jerusalem. A fair trade,” Eleazar said as he waved his friends onward to the temple. “We shall see. Good to see you.”

“Likewise,” said Zechariah.

The priests headed into the throng of customers still crowding the street and disappeared from Eleazar’s sight.

© 2011 John Pearson All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Nine

“You are nothing, a worm of an demon,” DeMerral spit out at Dirk.

The two fallen demons slowly circled one another slowly beating their wings.

Qwantar watched in amusement his tail rhythmically tapping on the floor beneath his throne. He always enjoyed a good fight. He needed his minions to constantly prove themselves worthy, worthy to be joined with him.

Dirk smiled at DeMerral then gave one quick flap of his wings and lurched twenty feet above his adversary. His trajectory carried him behind DeMerral. He paused briefly, preparing to dive at him with all his might.

DeMerral quickly turned and faced his airborne opponent. He waited for the mistake he knew was coming. Only a incompetent fool would try this move on him. The Dirk folded his wings in close to his back and pushed them out with all his might.

DeMerral watched as Dirk descended directly at him like a missile.

“Too slow you fool!” DeMerral shouted at Dirk.

Leaping directly up DeMerral shoved a talon into the soft flesh of Dirks back right between his folded wings. He hooked it in as deeply as possible and jerked Dirk down and under him. DeMerral quickly twisted his body around and straddled Dirk as he crashed into the floor. With a talon still in Dirk’s back DeMerral slashed Dirk’s left wing ripping feathers and flesh from the bony frame. He slashed again as Dirk cried out in pain.

DeMerral pulled the talon out of his back and flapped his wings once, rising above the crowd of demons surrounding them.

“I told you Dirk was an idiot to challenge DeMerral,” one demon shouted to another across the circle.

“Did you see that move,” another shouted.

“It was classic. DeMerral never even flinched,” another said.

“Get up Dirk. DeMerral awaits your next big move,” another taunted.

Qwantar rose from his throne and descended the stairs and slowly walked up to Dirk trying to get up. Qwantar slowly circled him evaluating the damage to his back and wing.

Dirk’s left wing hung limp, blood coating the feathers left on the frame. The wound in his back prevented him from being able to push himself up, pain shooting down his spine and through his shoulders and arms.

“So pitiful,” Qwantar said.

“Master, master,” Dirk pleaded.

“How did you fail yourself so completely with only one move?”

“Master,” Dirk pleaded.

“You disgrace yourself. How did you ever manage to enjoin yourself to my, my legion!!”

“Master,” Dirk pleaded.

Qwantar bent down next to Dirk.

“You have no place here. You never had a place here.”

“Master, please,” Dirk pleaded again.

“You dare seek mercy from me? You dare beg for your pithy life!!”

Dirk began shaking uncontrollably. His damaged wing randomly flapped sprinkling blood on the floor beside him

“Master,” Dirk pleaded.

The crowd of demons surrounding the two grew quiet in anticipation of Qwantar’s next move.

“Does he beg his life of the mighty Qwantar?” Anselrio mocked. “Master, master. Please, please. Master. How pathetic.”

Qwantar looked up to see Anselrio pushing the crowd aside as he approached flicking the ears of smaller demons with his bony finger.

Qwantar eyed Anselrio with contempt. How dare he come into my chamber unannounced. Turning his attention back to Dirk, he slowly gripped him by the back of his neck, wrapping his fingers slowly around till they pinched into the soft flesh of his throat. He pulled Dirk’s head back and leaned over to his ear.

“Shut up you fool. You are not worthy to be with my legion.”

He pulled Dirk’s head back further exposing his throat. Qwantar gazed at the circle of demons directly in front of him. He stared into the eyes of a medium sized demon. With his free hand he beckoned him one finger at a time to come forward.

Anselrio snickered as he watched the demise of Dirk unfold before him.

The demon came forward and stood in front of Dirk and Qwantar. Qwantar stood and offered Dirk’s neck to the demon. With one swift swing the demon slashed Dirk’s neck ripping it wide open. Dirk gurgled drowning in his own blood. Qwantar dropped him life a wet rag to the floor and slowly approached Anselrio.

“How dare you enter my chamber’s unannounced,” he said staring him straight in the eye.

Anselrio did a quick dance to the left then back to the right.

“And your point?”

Qwantar leapt on Anselrio slashing his cheek with one swift swing of his right claw. Anselrio tumbled backwards and tried to flip Qwantar over his head. Qwantar anticipated his move and was able to leverage his length and shove Anselrio down on his back and straddled his torso.

Qwantar pulled his right fist back and prepared to pummel his head. Anselrio shoved himself up with his wings lifting both of them several feet off the ground. He leaned to his left and Qwantar scrambled to get his feet beneath him before Anselrio could toss him to the ground.

The two began wrestling in a standing position, arms locked in a fiery embrace. Finally they both pushed back hard and let go of one another. Each took a few steps back and began circling.

“Why are you here!” Qwantar shouted.

Anselrio laughed and smiled at him.

“It was a choice.”

“A poor choice at best. You will not leave here alive.”

“Right. And I suppose you are going to destroy me?”

Qwantar lowered his head and stared at Anselrio with a rage fit for a demon. His tail twitched quickly left and right. He crouched a little lower and readied himself to engage Anselrio again.

Anselrio watched his adversary posturing himself. He tried to anticipate his next move.

Suddenly Qwantar leapt up then dove at Anselrio’s feet. Anselrio jumped straight up drawing his knees up under himself. Qwantar slid under him and Anselrio crashed down directly into his back. He spun around and grabbed Qwantar’s hair. He jerked Qwantar’s head sideways exposing his right cheek.  With a well timed slash he ripped Qwantar’s cheek open to the bone. He then slammed his fist several times into the side of his face then rolled off him and scrambled back to a safe distance and crouched low to the floor.

Qwantar jumped up and turned to Anselrio. He stared him right in the eye and prepared to attack again.

Anselrio smiled and stood.

“Qwantar,” he hissed, “Do you not wish to hear our sweet Satan’s plan? His plan to defeat the Eternal One once and for all?”

Blood dripped from Qwantar’s chin.

“You dare to come into my chamber’s unannounced?”

“Yes, yes. We all know you would like for me to call ahead, but Satan sent me specifically to you with a message. He has a little deed he needs done that is right up your alley.”

Qwantar snarled at Anselrio. The demons surrounding them began to edge slightly closer.

Anselrio waited for them to come a little closer. He took a little hop towards Qwantar.

“They sent Gabriel,” Anselrio hissed.

He relished the murmur that rose on the heels of his declaration. Qwantar focused his attention fully on Anselrio.

“Gabriel?” Qwantar replied.

“Yesssss. And a newly anointed excuse for a rival named Jeremy. From Michael’s little troop of misfits.”

“I am familiar with Jeremy. He is no threat to me.”

Anselrio scanned the crowd and grinned slightly.

“Ohhh, I don’t think Jeremy is the same little weakling you remember him to be.”

Anselrio smirked at Qwantar. Qwantar seethed at him.

“Spit it out.”

Anselrio laughed and flicked his wings lifting himself above the throng.

“I was there Qwantar. I saw the whole thing with my own two eyes. The eternal one called for a gathering. Oh, you should have seen the little automatrons worship him. How sad. I think they believe Him.”

Qwantar flicked his wings and positioned himself directly in front of Anselrio above the crowd.

“Get to the point already.”

“Oh, that is the point isn’t it. They worship him.“

Anselrio dropped to the floor and began doing a little dance and singing, mocking those who worship the eternal one. The crowd burst out laughing.

Qwantar dropped to the floor. “Your interruption was ill timed at best. Now out with it.”

Anselrio savored the moment. It have been a very, very long time since he had seen Qwantar. He had never liked him and never would.

“You’re no fun Qwantar. Really. No fun at all. Why, your little minions get it. What is the matter with you?”

“Daygron!!” Qwantar shouted.

“Oh, goodie,” Anselrio giggled. “Bringing out the big guns now. Whoopee.”

Anselrio danced around a little more just for the fun of it.

The crowd of demons quickly began backing up. Anselrio picked at his long fingernails cleaning some of the dirt out from beneath them.

The sound of a latch releasing echoed through the chamber. Demons scattered as quickly as they could move. A large door to one side began to open. The smell of damp musty dirt filled the chamber.

Qwantar slowly paced back and forth awaiting his servant. Anselrio waited patiently polishing his nails.

The door clanged fully open against a door stop in the floor of the chamber. Anselrio looked at the dark chamber beyond the doorway. He glanced at Qwantar pacing back and forth.

Anselrio could hear the sound of something scratching at the floor of the chamber.

“Release him,” Qwantar demanded.

“So it’s a boy. Congratulations,” Anselrio said.

Qwantar looked at one of the demons not cowering under something.

“Release him. Now!”

The demon slowly moved towards the doorway, every few feet casting a glance back at Qwantar.

“Now!!” Qwantar shouted.

The demon quickly passed through the doorway. The sound of a chain being drug on the floor filled the chamber, echoing off the walls. Then all went silent.

Suddenly the demon burst from the doorway and zipped past Qwantar and Anselrio. A cloud of dust wafted from the doorway as all awaited Daygron.

Anselrio could see something moving in the shadows just inside the doorway. Something racing around kicking up more dust. Then out of the dust cloud a small red, hairless monkey ran right up to Qwantar and sat at his feet. He looked up at him and began chatting at him.

“Yes,” Qwantar said to the monkey. “Anselrio has returned. I need some information he refuses to provide me. I need your, ah, assistance.”

The monkey scurried around behind Qwantar and hid behind his calves. Peering out from one side he looked Anselrio over.

Anselrio laughed at Qwantar.
 
“This is the mighty Daygron?? A monkey. A hairless, red monkey.”

Daygron screeched a couple of times and started scratching at the back of Qwantar’s calves. He pulled his head back and peered out the other side of Qwantar’s calves. Then screeched and moved his head back to the other side.

“Ok Qwantar, what exactly do you want to know,” Anselrio said dropping to his knees. “Please, please don’t send the monkey. I’ll tell you anything. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Anselrio laughed again at Qwantar.

“Tell me what Satan sent you here to tell me,” Qwantar said.

“Well, if you insist. The eternal one sent Gabriel. Oh, excuse me I already told you that. He sent Jeremy with him. Oh, and I already told you that. Um, let’s see, what else is there. I know there was more. I mean, he wouldn’t send me into your chamber unless it was important. I mean after all, Satan forbid I would come here and waste your precious time.”

“Enough,” Qwantar said. He looked down at his little red monkey and nodded his head towards Anselrio.

The monkey emerged from behind Qwantar and became a red blur, circling Anselrio several times and then returning to his spot behind Qwantar.

Anselrio looked at Qwantar in disbelief. “That’s it? He just runs a few circles around me really, really fast.”

Qwantar slowly smiled at Anselrio.

“Give it a moment. I think you will get the point.”

Anselrio’s legs began to grow numb. He tried to lift them but they felt heavy, like they were made of lead. Slowly his whole body was becoming numb. He glanced down at his legs and saw small scrapes bleeding slightly. What the.

Qwantar slowly walked towards him and smiled. “Wait, the best part is yet to come.”

A slight burning began to grow where the slits cut into Anselrio’s legs. It grew in intensity then began spreading ever so slowly. Anselrio tried to reach down to rub his legs but could not bend over, his muscles slowly becoming paralyzed. His legs now felt like he was standing knee deep in lave. He knew this because he had once stood knee deep in lava. Sweat beaded up on his whole body.

“This doesn’t have to be permanent Anselrio. There is a cure and I just happen to have it with me.”

Anselrio now felt like he was standing waist deep in lava. His tongue was growing numb.

“You should tell me what I need to know before your tongue grows completely numb. If I do not hear what I need to hear, well, once the tongue is numb and you won’t be able to tell me. And I am afraid that until I hear what I want to hear, then you cannot have the cure. And just so you know, you are not going to die, this just will not cease and desist until you have the cure.”

Anselrio glared at Qwantar.

“Where did you get that blasted monkey?”

“Not what I wanted to hear.”

Anselrio held out till he could stand it no more.

“Saden sed do dell oou do go doo Darudalum.”

“I’m sorry, did you say Darudalem? I have never heard of Darudalem before. Can you spell that for me?” Qwantar said.

“Darudalum, Saden sed do dell oou do go doo darudalum.”

“Pardon me Anselrio, but did you say Jerusalem.?”

“Yed”

“Ohh, so Satan wants me to go to Jerusalem? What for?

“Gib me da cure and I will dell oou.”

“Hmm, well, maybe just a little between the check and gum for you. Open wide now.”

Qwantar pulled out a small bottle and pulled out a dropper. He placed a couple of drops of in Anselrio mouth and stepped back to wait.

Anselrio began convulsing with and fought the urge to spit the liquid from his mouth.

After a few minutes he said, “Alright, tell me what I need to know or the monkey does his little race around your legs again.”

Anselrio wet his lips and said, “That stuff tastes like crap. What is it?”

“Never mind what it is. Tell me what I want to know.”

“Satan said ‘Send Qwantar to this little priest. No, send him to his poor little barren wife. Twist her. Twist her shame. Twist her shame into her need. Twist her shame into an unbearable humiliation. A humiliation with only one escape, one way out. Then show her how easy it is to escape.’ The priest is Zechariah of the division of Abijah. He lives in Ein Kerem, just outside of Jerusalem.”

“Is this all he said?”

“He said, ‘Tell him to stir up those precious little Jewish neighbors of hers. She must hear their indignation. She must feel their stares, their whispers as she walks by. Barren, barren.’”

Anselrio finished the message and then said, “Now give me the cure.”

“There now, that wasn’t so hard was it?”

Qwantar set the bottle on the ground right in front of Anselrio. “There you are, you must take the whole bottle, a few drops at a time. Oh, and by the way, the cure is the little red monkey’s urine.”

Qwantar smiled and patted Anselrio on the chest a couple of times.

Qwantar turned and headed for the chamber doors.

“Put the monkey back in his chamber. Now!. Zarrum, Medlin, Bragon, come with me. The rest of you, get back to work,” Qwantar said.

Anselrio stared at the small bottle at his feet. He tried to bend over but he could barely move. All of him from the neck down was now burning fiercely.

“Qwantar, how do you expect me to pick up that bottle!!”

“You’ll figure it out,” he said just before he flew out the door.

© 2011 John Pearson All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Nine

Elizabeth and Miriam stood side by side at the wash basin cleaning after the men left for Jerusalem. Elizabeth washed the dishes slowly thoroughly inspecting each before handing them to Miriam for drying. They listened to the children outside the window arguing over the rules to some game they had been playing. Apparently, the loser was convinced the rules were flawed and needed amending.

A slight breeze moved though the small house bringing with it the smell of wild flowers growing in Elizabeth’s garden. Elizabeth loved to work the soil with her bare hands. Something in her resonated with the feel and texture of the soft earth she kept fresh with bits of fish and scraps of vegetables left over from meals.

“What was Zechariah like when you first met him?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Like any other young boy. Full of dreams and opinions, so sure that he knew everything there was to know. His father always said 15 year old boys were just young, dumb and full of themselves. Zechariah felt he had to make sure everyone observed our traditions, kept the law of Moses. He was the first boy his age to memorize all five books of the Law.”

“How did you meet?”

“He is four years older than me. We grew up together, always knew each other. I didn’t really like him much when we were young. He always thought my art work was a waste of time. ‘It’s just not practical!’ he would declare. I used to make stuff for him just to irritate him.”

The two of them laughed together.

“When his father told him he had talked to my father about marriage, ohh he got soooo mad. He avoided me as much as possible. He wouldn’t even talk to me when we saw each other.”

Elizabeth handed Miriam the last dish and wrung out the wash rag. Walking to the table she neatly folded the rag. Kneeling by the table she worked all the crumbs from the meal to the edge of the table then pushed the pile off into her hand. She rose and threw the crumbs out the window for the birds. kneeling again she scrubbed the table clean. Rising she returned to the washtub and rinsed the rag thoroughly, wrung it out again and hung it from the rack on the wall.

Together, Elizabeth and Miriam picked up the washtub and carried it outside and poured the water into the water trough for the animals.

“Hello there my wooly friends,” Elizabeth said as she petted the sheep getting a drink of the water. They shook their little tails and cried their approval of the attention they were receiving.

Miriam carried the wash tub back inside as Elizabeth petted each animal. She pulled out small pieces of vegetables and gave some to each one.

Miriam brought the weaving boards outside and set them next to the stools in the shade of the house. She always looked forward to these times of weaving together. Elizabeth knew so much about life and being a woman.

She rejoined Elizabeth at the animal pen. She watched the animals jostle for position directly in front of Elizabeth, each trying to get the next scrap of food. Back and forth they pushed one another as she held a piece just out of their reach softly speaking to them. Elizabeth finished with the animals and the two went back inside to pick out thread for weaving.

Elizabeth pulled out the board with reams of thread attached to it. The thread was organized by type, weight and color. Wool thread on the left and linen on the right. Each had heavier thread on the left and lighter thread on the right. Both of them perused the heavier woolen thread.

“I think red, white and purple will make a good set of colors to work with,” Elizabeth said.

“I agree,” said Miriam. ”I think I want to use some yellow today. Yellow and white and, hmmm, what do you think Elizabeth , blue or green?”

“You have a good eye for color. Surprise me.” She replied.

“Hmmm, well, I think I will use both at some point. I’ll decide as I weave.”

Elizabeth smiled at Miriam. Always one to just do something and then figure it out later, she thought to herself.

They put the thread into a basket and Miriam carried it outside. Elizabeth filled a couple of glasses with wine and water and carried them out to the sitting area. Miriam cut some yellow and white thread to the length she needed and started braiding it together.

Elizabeth sat down and watched Rachel and Joel coming running across the road from their home. Racing, Rachel easily beat Joel. Her eight year old legs being much longer than his five year old legs.

“Hi,” she said, smiling at the two of them.

Elizabeth reached out for a hug and Rachel quickly embraced her.

“Look Elizabeth, I lost another tooth this morning.”

She opened her moth wide and showed Elizabeth where the tooth had been. Then she showed Miriam.

“My, my Rachel. You don’t have too many left to go now.”

“Look at my tooth hole,” Joel exclaimed. “I lost one yesterday.”

“They know Joel, you showed them yesterday.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not. Elizabeth, did I show my tooth hole to you yesterday?”

“Well, Joel, I believe you did. Three times I think.”

“Did I show you Miriam?”

“No, I don’t think so. Let me have a closer look.”

“It’s just a tooth hole Joel,” Rachel said. “Everybody has one you know.”

Joel proudly opened his mouth for Miriam to inspect his tooth hole.

“Yep, looks like a tooth hole to me,” she said.

A grasshopper on the wall of the house caught Joel’s attention. He jumped up and tried to grab it with both hands. He quickly darted after it as the grass hopper jumped and flew away from him. He rounded the corner of the house leaving the ladies behind.

“Elizabeth, can I weave something too?” Rachel said.

“Come on, let’s go get you a board and some thread,” Miriam said.

Rising, she led Rachel inside to get the supplies.

Elizabeth began braiding white and purple thread together. Three strands of white with one strand of purple. She always like the way bold colors contrasted with white and often braided them this way. Sometimes it was three strands of white with one strand of a color and sometimes three strands of color with one strand of white. It always depended upon her mood. Sometimes she was in a white mood and sometimes not.

Elizabeth watched Hagar approaching. Her son Micah and daughter Deborah carried water pots with her on their way to the well.

“Hello Elizabeth,” Hagar said.

“Hagar, Deborah, Micah. Hello.”

“Did you hear, Zechariah said my son Micah here is his best student. How God has blessed me. Not only did He give me children, but Micah honors me by working hard to learn the Torah. Yes, God has blessed me with excellent children.”

Elizabeth gritted her teeth slightly she shifted in her seat and continued braiding the thread. Watching her hands working the thread she spoke without looking up.

“Yes, children are a blessing from God.”

“Every mother’s dream is to have children who honor her. Deborah has been learning how to makes Matzo for the next Passover. She is such a good cook.”

Elizabeth pulled the braid tighter with each passing moment. Finally she looked up.

“You must be a very proud mother.”

Hagar smiled slightly and replied, “Very. I noticed your braid is looking uneven. You should be more careful how tight you pull it.”

“I am experimenting with a new way of braiding. I want to see how a weave will look if I vary the braid thickness.”

Miriam and Rachel came around the corner of the house.

“You should start with a small board and learn how to manage the weave with that one before you use the larger boards,” Miriam said.

“But I want to make a larger rug,” Rachel protested.

“Hello Miriam, Rachel,” Hagar said.

“Oh, hello Hagar. Hi Micah and Deborah,” Miriam said.

“Hi,” said Rachel.

“Well, we must be getting on to the well,” Hagar said. “Good to talk with you Elizabeth.”

“Have a pleasant walk,” Elizabeth said.

“Bye,” said Miriam.

“Bye,” Micah and Deborah said together.

“Bye,” said Rachel.

The three left and headed for the well.

Elizabeth began frantically pulling the braid apart.

“I don’t know where that woman gets it from. Always has to rub it in. I am so proud of my children. God has blessed with such wonderful little children.”

Miriam watched her friend throw her thread back in the basket.

“I’ll be right back,” Elizabeth said.

Elizabeth quickly disappeared around the corner of the house.

“Wow. Is she ok?” Rachel asked, looking up at Miriam.

“Yeah, she’s ok. Sometimes it bothers her when Zechariah goes to do his priestly duties at the Temple,” Miriam replied. “Here sit down and Ill show you how to braid the thread.”

***

Elizabeth quickly retreated to the house and grabbed a towel to wipe her tears.

Why me Lord? Haven’t I been a good Hebrew daughter? Why can’t I have children? I’d make a good mother. Look at how I help Miriam to become a good woman. It’s just not fair.

No, no, don’t think like that. The Lord has been good to me. He has blessed me with a wonderful husband, Zechariah, and with wonderful friends. I am a good woman. I am just as good as the rest of the women in our village, even if they have children.

Yes, they have children. They have no sin. They have no shame. How did I sin that I should be barren. What have I done to bring this shame upon myself, upon my husband, upon my family. Everyone knows I am a sinner. What I wouldn’t give for a child. Just one. I too, like Hannah, would dedicate him to the Lord. All the days of His life would belong to Him. What must I do before God will open my womb?

Elizabeth sat down and dabbed her eyes. She dried them and lowered her hands to her lap, twisting and rubbing the towel. She pulled it taught then folded it neatly then shook it out and folded it again. She rubbed it between her thumbs and forefingers till it seemed she would wear a hole in it. She lifted her face and stared out the window.

It isn’t wrong to hate Hagar is it? That woman. She just rubs it in any chance she gets. She never says it out loud but I hear it anyway. Barren, Elizabeth, you are barren. I have children, you do not. You’re the sinner, I am not.

Warm tears continued to leak from her eyes. She rubbed her face with the towel trying to catch each one as it appeared. She gritted her teeth and began pulling hard at the towel.

Hagar, you are no better than me! I would make as good a mother as you! No, I would make a better mother!! My children would not learn to humiliate their fellow Hebrews. They would learn compassion and respect.

Oh Lord, please help me. I want to hurt her so much, so much. Just hurt her back. I am tired of her, tired of all the women in the village. Every one of them looks down their nose at me. Please Lord, please, even in my old age, would you bless me too? Bless me with a child, take away my shame? Please. Please!

Elizabeth eyed a small knife. She reached for it and felt the weight of it in her hand. She stared at it for a moment, then drug the point across the edge of the table. She drug it across the table again and again. Finally she put it down and wiped her tears one more time. She ran her hand across the scarred surface.

“Ouch,” she said when a splinter pricked her finger. She looked at it then pulled it out with her teeth.

No one understands. Zech tries, he really does. He has his own pain. But, he doesn’t understand mine. Miriam tries, but she doesn’t understand either. No one understands. I am all alone. All alone.

She stood and collected herself. I have visitors to attend to. She smoothed out the front of her dress then dried her eyes one last time. She hung the towel across the edge of the wash basin and headed back outside.

 

***

“First thing you do when starting to weave is to tie the thread off on the board. Here let me show you,” Miriam said to Rachel.

Miriam coaxed half of the loose threads at the end of the braid through the tie hole on the square hand loom. The she tied them together around the edge of the board.

“There you go,” she said and handed the loom back to Rachel.

“Thanks,” Rachel said.

Elizabeth came around the corner of the house and sat down with the two girls.

“Now look at your braid Rachel. All tied off and ready to weave,” She said.

Rachel beamed with pride as she held out the loom for Elizabeth to inspect.

“Miriam tied it off for me. She is really good at this.”

“Yes she is,” Elizabeth said.

Miriam looked at Elizabeth. Elizabeth glanced back at her. Miriam could easily see that Elizabeth had been crying. She reached out and squeezed her forearm. Elizabeth smiled and placed her hand on Miriam’s and squeezed it back.

“Let’s see your braid Miriam,” she said.

Rachel pressed in close and leaned her hip against Elizabeth’s leg and inspected the braid with her.

“I like the yellow and white like that,” Rachel said.

“Me too,” said Elizabeth.

“I did two and two,” said Miriam.

“Yes I can see,” said Elizabeth.

“I am still trying to decide on whether to add the blue or green. Or, maybe both. I don’t know.”

“I am sure you will decide well,” Elizabeth said.

“Well Rachel,” Elizabeth said as she handed Miriam her braid. “How about we get you started. Wind your thread around the loom, moving forward one peg each time, until the loom is fully covered.”

Rachel sat down on the ground and began wrapping her braid around the pegs on the loom.

“Keep it tight as you go honey,” Elizabeth said.

Miriam tied off her braid on the edge of the round loom she was using and then began feeding the braid through the hole in the center. She then pulled it tight and wrapped it around the edge of the loom into the first notch and fed the braid through the center again.

Rachel looked up at Miriam and smiled. “Race ya,” she said.

Elizabeth smiled and said, “No, no, Rachel. Take your time. If you do a sloppy job on the core weave the rest will not look right.”

“Ok,” Rachel said then continued wrapping her braid around the pegs on the loom as quickly as she could.

Elizabeth picked up her braid and separated the threads till there was no braid left. Slowly and deliberately she braided then threads to together again.

“My mother taught me how to weave when I was your age Rachel,” Elizabeth said.

“Really? Did you spin the thread too?”

“No, I learned to do that when I got older. Spinning is a more delicate process than weaving. I learned to dye the thread before I learned to spin it.”

“Can you teach me how to do that?”

“Your mother is a master at dying thread. She is a much better teacher than I am.”

“How do you do it Elizabeth?”

“Well, it all begins with the source of the color. Take plum dye for instance. You can make many colors out of plums. First you have to peel off the skins. This is what you make the ye from. Then I cut out the seeds and put the fruit on the window sill for the birds to come and eat.”

“I like to watch birds. They are so pretty.”

“Yes, I like to watch them also, which is why I put the fruit on the window sill,” Elizabeth said.

“I like plums too much to let the birds have them,” Miriam said.

Elizabeth smiled at her.

“And sometimes I do also. But sometimes I like to feed the birds. Then again, sometimes I make a pie or jam out of them.”

“I can make a strudel. Momma showed me how. She said someday I would have a very glad husband who would love my strudels,” Rachel said.

Miriam laughed. “And I am sure he will want you to make him strudels all the time.”

Elizabeth smiled.

“You have to prepare both the thread and the dye before you can dye the cloth,” Elizabeth said. “Of course, I also dye linen after I have weaved it. It is less work and you get a more even color that way. You will need water, salt or vinegar, a cooking pot, one you don’t use for cooking food, a measuring cup and a strainer. You will use salt for dying with fruit dyes and vinegar for dying with flowers, leaves, plants, those kinds of things.”

“Can you make dye out of anything?” Rachel asked.

“Just about,” Elizabeth said. “But not everything works well for making dyes.”

“First I do when making dye from plum skins is I dump them in some fresh water and simmered them for another hour. It is so amazing how red and beautiful the water turns within minutes cooking them. You have to be sure you do not boil the skins. You should heat the water just hot enough to simmer them.”

While I am making the dye I prepare the cloth. I mix “the water and salt together to make the fix. The fix is what we use to make the dye stick to the cloth. To prepare the fix I mix 1/2 cup salt to 8 cups cold water. After I have prepared the fix, I simmer the fabric in it for about an hour, then rinse it well and ring it out as dry as possible. You don’t want to let it dry out completely before you put it in the dye.”

Rachel held up her loom and said, “Look Elizabeth, I finished putting my braid on the loom.”

“Hmm, let me see.”

She took the loom from Rachel and began inspecting it.

“Very good Rachel. This is excellent.”

Rachel beamed and smiled at Miriam. 

“Make another braid for weaving into the first braid.” Elizabeth said.

Rachel pick out the red and purple thread. Elizabeth helped her measure and cut the thread to the proper length. Rachel sat back down on the ground and began braiding them together.

Miriam asked, “What else do you have to do when you dye the linen?”

“After you have prepared the lined then you have to strain the dye to remove the plum peels. After you have strained the dye, then you put it back in the pot and dip the cloth in it. The more times you dip the cloth the more the dye colors it. If you want the fullest color possible then you need to let it sit for a few hours or overnight. The same thing with thread. I always do very long lengths of thread at a time because it is almost impossible to get the exact same color from two different batches of dyed thread.”

“You sure know a lot about making thread and linen,” Rachel said.

“Well, I have been doing it since I was a little girl just like you.”

“Is that a really long time.” Rachel asked.

“Yes, a very long time,” Elizabeth replied.

Looking up at Elizabeth Rachel said, “I like you Elizabeth.”

And I like you too Rachel.””

Together, the three worked on their rugs till it became to dark to see clearly what they were doing. Eventually Miriam and Rachel said goodnight and headed home. Elizabeth ate some of the leftovers from the meal they prepared for the men earlier in the day.

She lay in bed and thought about the events of the day. How grateful she felt for the company of both Miriam and Rachel. She then closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep.

© 2011 John Pearson All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Eight

Elizabeth bundled all the sweet bread she had made earlier that day. She took the bread outside and gave some to each of the men heading for Jerusalem.

Each was double checking the loads on their donkeys or mules. They tightened all the straps holding the bundles of goods to the animals. Some had animal skins, some cloth, others had herbs and spices collected from the desert or grown in small gardens surrounding their homes. Each hoping to trade their goods for as many items on their list as possible.

They would pass through the market district of Jerusalem before reaching the Temple. They should arrive early enough in the day to get their trading done before they have to be at the Temple to relieve the priests that had served the pervious week.

There were 14 priest all together including Zechariah. They varied in age from twenty to seventy seven. Ahimelech claimed to be the eldest. The rest quit arguing with him many years ago about his age. He seemed to grow three years older for every two they counted. No one really knew how old he was anymore.

Zechariah came next in age. The two would be riding donkeys most of the way. The younger men always gave up their animals for their elders when they went to serve. It was one of the small ways they sought to honor them.

They headed out while the sun was still high overhead. This time of year there was little relief from the sun till it set. Pashur and Jerimoth led the way out of town.

Miriam had come to visit Elizabeth as the priests arrived. She like to help her serve them their mid day meal before their journey. She and Elizabeth waved as the men disappeared over the crest of the hill that led them down through a ravine which marked the edge of the north side of town.

The two of them went back inside to clean up from the meal.

* * *

Zechariah looked around him at the priests he journeyed with.

There was Bukki. He was around thirty. He had three wives, three sons and five daughters. His latest wife Deborah was pregnant with her first. He was as good a carpenter as Zechariah had ever seen.

Abishua was a shepherd by trade. His wife Naomi always traveled with him to Jerusalem when he served but had not come along this time. He would have to bear all the grief for her absence alone. Her mother and father lived in Jerusalem and expected her to visit when he served. They had been married a couple of years now but still have no children. This would be another topic of discussion the in laws would burden him with. Zechariah wondered if he would wait until he had to leave to visit them.

Abiathar, the son of Hebron, was one of the most devout priests Zechariah had ever met. A widower of four years now, he lived alone. He had been married just a few months when his wife Esther had been killed by some lions while harvesting grapes from their vineyard. Their home was a little ways away from the village where they grew up. By the time he heard her screams it was too late. Zechariah had never known such grief himself. Even now Abiathar still bore the pain of his loss.

Ithamar, Phinehas, Jahzerah and Micah were brothers. Their father Samuel had been serving in the Temple for forty years now. Zechariah found it hard to remember a time when the five of them did not accompany him as he traveled to Jerusalem. They lived the furthest away, traveling a full days journey before reaching his home. They were good priests.

Libni normally traveled with his father Abihu. This was the second week of service his father would miss. He had fallen off the roof of their home some time back and broken his hip. The journey now was just too much for him, even on a donkey or a mule with a well padded saddle.

Berechiah, Obadiah, and Zerah were like sons to Zechariah. Having no children of his own, these men were as close to him as sons could be. He treasured their friendship. They lived only about an hour away and came to visit once or twice a month. They did much for him and Elizabeth. Their wives and children filled the void that barrenness had carved in both of their hearts. A void both he and Elizabeth had learned to bear with God’s grace. And these men and their families had brought much healing to both of them.

Pashur  and Jerimoth lived near Berechiah. Pashur frequently taught together with Berechiah at the synagogue and Zechariah always loved discussing Pashur’s teaching techniques. It is not always easy to get a young man to understand the Torah. Even harder to teach him to live by it.

Zechariah watched Berechiah slow his pace allowing him to come along side him.

“Zechariah, did I hear you and Elizabeth talking about trading for a cow?”

“Yes. Our last one died about a year ago and we kind of miss her. She was a gentle soul and gave much milk.”

“Yes. I miss her too. The merchant Heman came through our village abut a month ago on his way back from Egypt. He had some cows with him.”

“Probably all skin and bones if I know Heman.”

“Not as bad as you might think. He tried to sell me some but I did not need any. You know I have four cows and would be willing to sell you one,” Berechiah said.

“Yes I know. Elizabeth and I talked about that. But, I don’t want to take a cow away from you. I think we will be able to find an acceptable one at a fair price at the market.”

“Are you kidding me. This is Jerusalem. Much to our Lord’s displeasure, I don’t think you will ever find an acceptable animal for a fair price there.”

Zechariah laughed. “I have been praying my friend. I believe our Lord will provide.”

The small party of priests came to a steep descent leading into a dry river bed. Berechiah took the reigns from Zechariah and guided the animal slowly downward. Loose rocks made navigating the dusty path challenging. Both man and animal stepped and slid their way down to the river bed. A few months from now and the rainy season would begin to fill this river again. Towards the end of the season it would become nearly impassable.

They reached the bottom and resumed their pace until they reached the other side and began their ascent upwards. Dust devils swirled and danced past them, headed nowhere in particular. Lizards and scorpions raced for cover under the rocks that littered their path.

Zechariah pulled on the mane of his donkey and brought it to a stop at the top of the hill. He always like to stop here and drink in the sight of the Holy City off in the distance. It’s majestic rise beckoned him to give thanks to his God. The others gathered together to await Zechariah’s words.

“Gentlemen, behold, the City of David, the city of peace,” Zechariah said.

“Blessed is the name of the Lord our God who gave us this holy city,” they all spoke in unison.

Berechiah smiled at his old friend.

“How beautiful she is Zechariah,” Berechiah said.

“Yes. As beautiful as a rainbow in the sky. As beautiful as Rock Roses in full bloom.”

Zechariah lightly kicked the sides of his donkey and they continued their trek to Jerusalem.

© 2011 John Pearson All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Seven

Zechariah and Elizabeth sat quietly awaiting the priests coming from villages further away from the Temple. She quietly weaved the small round designs. Barely 3 feet in diameter they were just the right size for small rugs, or for sitting on, or for protecting tables from the hot pots and bowls of stew and other foods.

Zechariah was whittling a rams horn Micah had given him in payment for blessing his fields and animals. It was a small one, about a foot in length. Zechariah had hollowed it out yesterday and now was working on the blow hole.

He lifted it to his mouth and gave a hearty blow on it.

“Zechariah, will you ever learn to blow one of those things?” Elizabeth said while covering her ear closest to him.

Zechariah chuckled. “Of course not.”

He whittled some more on the horn and then blew it again. This time was less harsh but still not as pleasant as Elizabeth hoped for.

“Zechariah,” Pashur shouted from the front of the small building Zechariah and Elizabeth called home.

Elizabeth looked up from her weaving and smiled at Zechariah.

“Looks like the others have started to arrive.”

“Yes. Sounds like Pashur. I wonder if Jerimoth is with him this trip. He should be of age now to serve in the Temple,” Zechariah said.

He winced slightly as he rose to go look outside.

“Darn hips,” he said.

Opening the door he found Pashur and Jerimoth and their old mule Ahab awaiting him.

“Pashur,” Zechariah said and quickly approached his old friend and gave him a warm hug. “Good to see you.”

Pashur turned slightly and held his open palm out towards his son.

“You remember Jerimoth don’t you. He is twenty now. He has come of age to serve in the Temple. He has been studying very hard on the prayers, on how to mix the incense, on everything Zechariah. Been driving me crazy with questions about this, questions about that.”

Pashur smiled at Jerimoth and continued, “You would think he intends for the rest of us to stand around and watch him take care of everything by himself.”

Zechariah stepped around Pashur and gave the young man a great hug. He stepped back and wagged a finger in Pashur’s direction.

“I remember your father’s first service at the Temple. He had more questions than a quail has feathers. Drove his father crazy for months. The only way his father could get him to shut up was to threaten to leave him home, make him wait another year, till he was twenty one.”

Jerimoth smiled and bowed slightly to Zechariah.

“Is it alright for me to water our mule?”

“Certainly. Come right over here,” Zechariah said.

Tugging at Jerimoth’s tunic he pulled him around the side of the house to the water trough for the animals. He picked up one of the water jugs and poured some water in the trough for the mule. He shooed the goats and sheep back as Jerimoth tied the mule off on the rail. Ahab gulped at the water as the men headed inside.

“Elizabeth!” Pashur shouted. He gave her a big hug and motioned for Jerimoth to come closer.

“Jerimoth, this is Elizabeth. She makes the finest sweet bread in all of Israel. If you speak kindly to her she may treat you to some.”

Elizabeth eyed Jerimoth from head to toe.

“My, my. How long has it been Zech?” she said.

“He was here just last year for Passover.”

“He couldn’t have been. Look how big he is. You would think he is old enough to serve in the Temple now,” She said.

“Come, sit. Let me get you something to drink.”

Pashur and Jerimoth sat down on the bench extending from the wall. Zechariah filled a bowl with water and grabbed a towel. He handed the towel to Pashur and set the water bowl down between him and Jerimoth.

“It is a hot day to walk so far my friend,” Zechariah commented.

Pashur slipped off his sandals and dipped his right foot into the water. He bent over and rubbed his feet washing off the dust from the road.

Elizabeth handed Jerimoth a glass of wine which he gratefully accepted. He drank down about half of the glass then set it on the bench next to him.

“How is it a young man like you is not married yet?” Elizabeth said to Jerimoth. “Tell me, which young girl in your village have you got your eye on?”

Jerimoth blushed.

“Elizabeth,” Zechariah scolded. “Leave the young man alone. Pay her no mind Jerimoth.”

“A young man old enough to serve in the Temple is more than old enough to have a wife. Tell me Jerimoth, who has caught your fancy.”

Pashur looked at him and said, “You might as well get on with it son. Elizabeth is surely going to keep asking for an answer till she hears what she wants to hear.”

Pashur handed Jerimoth the towel. Elizabeth handed him a glass of wine. Zechariah sat down on a cushion and waited for Jerimoth’s confession.

“Out with it,” Elizabeth said.

Smiling, Jerimoth looked at her then at the floor. “Well, there is this one girl, Hannah.”

Looking up at Elizabeth he said, “She is fifteen. I like to go to the well and carry her water back for her.”

“Fifteen and she is not married yet? Is she the oldest daughter?”

“Yes, and her sisters wish she would hurry up and get married. Her youngest sister, Sarah, she wants to marry Asa. I think he wants to marry her too.”

Pashur chimed in, “I am not sure Eliab wants any of his daughters to marry. I think he likes all the pampering he gets from them.”

“Sounds like a man,” Elizabeth said.

“I have spoken to him a time or two,” Pashur said. “Just testing the waters. Hannah and her sisters always seem to be right around the corner, giggling and spying on us.”

“Well, Jerimoth is not getting any younger. And you need some grand children Pashur,” Elizabeth teased.

Pashur smiled and took another drink of wine.

A knock at the door announced the arrival of more priests gathering to journey the rest of the way together.

Zechariah and Pashur rose to go outside and greet them. Stepping outside they found Berechiah, Zerah and Obadiah shaking the dust from their tunics.

“Friends!” Zechariah exclaimed.

He and Pashur gave a hearty hug to each. Jerimoth emerged from the house and quickly gathered the ropes for their donkey’s and led them to the watering trough.

The three new visitors eyed Jerimoth and smiled at Pashur.

“So, Jerimoth is coming along to serve in the Temple. What a proud father you must be Pashur,” Obadiah said.

“Yes. He has grown so fast.” He replied.

Obadiah smiled, “Next time we serve, I will be bringing my young Korah to join his brothers and I.”

“Come, come. Let us go inside,” he said as he motioned for them to enter the house ahead of him. “You must be thirsty as a jackal in the desert on such a hot day.”

They all stepped inside to await the arrival of the rest.

© 2011 John Pearson All Rights Reserved.