I followed him to Judas’s room, where he pointed to a half-full waterskin, mussed bedcovers, partially burned candles, and a fine linen coat tossed on a bench. On a table near the bed, two scrolls had been opened and marked in place with reading spools.
Haran’s emissary had arrived and made himself welcome in our house. No, not our house, I reminded myself. It and everything in it belonged to Haran now.
I walked to the table and glanced over the unfurled scrolls. One contained a list of names—officials and landowners—and next to them, recorded sums of money. On the other, a recording of the house’s contents, room by room.
“He could return at any moment. We should leave and return later when he’s here,” Lavi said. Careful, prudent Lavi.
He was right, yet as we swept past my parents’ room, I stopped. An idea suddenly sat in my head, sunning itself. The flick of a scaly tail. I said, “Wait on the balcony and alert me if you hear anyone.”
A protest formed on Lavi’s face, but he did as I asked.
I stepped into my parents’ room, where the sight of Mother’s bed halted me with a sharp intake of loss. Her oak chest was coated with a glaze of dust. I creaked it open and my mind swept back to my girlhood—Tabitha and I pillaging through the contents, preparing for our dance.
The wooden jewel box was midway down, beneath neatly folded tunics and coats. Its heft in my hands reassured me it was still full. I opened it. Four gold bracelets, two ivory, six silver. Eight necklaces—amber, amethyst, lapis, carnelian, emerald, and gold leaf. Seven pairs of pearl earrings. A dozen jeweled and silver headbands. Gold rings. So much. Too much.
I would have Lavi trade the jewelry in the market for coins.
Thou shalt not steal. Guilt made me pause. Would I now become a thief? I strode across the room and back, shamed to think what Jesus would say. The Torah also said love your neighbor, I reasoned, and wasn’t I taking the jewelry out of love for Yaltha? I doubted I could get her to Alexandria without a substantial bribe. Besides, I’d stolen the ivory sheet from Antipas—I was already a thief.
I said, “This is your parting gift to me, Mother.”
On the balcony, I hurried past Lavi toward the stairs. “Let’s take our leave.”
As we reached the floor below, we heard someone at the door stomping mud from his sandals. We broke for the passageway, but we’d taken only a few strides when a man entered. He reached for the knife at his waist. “Who are you?”
Lavi stepped in front of me. It was as if I had a sparrow caged inside my ribs, flailing about. I edged around Lavi, hoping the man didn’t notice my apprehension. “I’m Ana, niece to Haran of Alexandria and the daughter of Matthias, who was head counselor to Herod Antipas before his death. And this is my servant, Lavi. This was my home before I married. May I ask, sir, who are you?”
He dropped his hand to his side. “Your uncle in Alexandria sent me to dispose of this property, which is now rightfully his. I am Apion, his treasurer.”
He was a young man of brutish strength and size, but he bore delicate, almost womanly features—lined eyes, full lips, well-shaped brows, and black, curling hair.
The travel pouch strapped across my chest bulged with odd contours. I nudged it toward my back, smiled, and bowed my head. “Then our Lord has blessed me, for you are the one I’ve come to see. Haran sent word to me through the palace that you were in Galilee, and I came immediately with my husband’s blessing to beg a favor of you.”
The lies rolled from my lips, water over river rocks.
Apion’s eyes darted uncertainly from me to Lavi. “How did you come to enter the house?”
“We found the passage from the courtyard unbolted. I didn’t think you would mind if I found shelter.” My hand went to my belly, which I protruded as far as I could. “I am with child and felt weary.” The audacious turn