He swept his hand toward one of the couches. “Please rest.”
I plopped onto the cushion, wrinkling my nose at the fusty air that came wafting up.
“Speak your favor,” he said.
I quickly gathered my thoughts. He’d accepted my lies easily enough, and he possessed a kind way—would I need the bribe? Should I forestall until I’d traded the jewelry? I studied the man. His curls were oiled with expensive spikenard. A gold scarab ring encircled his finger, the one he no doubt used to imprint Haran’s seal onto documents.
“May I return tomorrow?” I said. “I find myself too tired.”
What could he say? A woman with child was a mysterious creature.
He nodded. “Come at the sixth hour, and present yourself at the main door. You will find the passageway from the courtyard locked.”
xxix.
The next day we returned at the designated hour. I felt confident. Lavi had traded my mother’s jewelry for six thousand drachmae, the equivalent of one talent. It was an unexpected measure of riches. Minted in silver, the coins were so voluminous, Lavi had purchased a sizable leather bag to hold them. He’d paid out more drachmae for a room at an inn, choosing himself to pass the night in the alley. I slept only a little, dreaming that Jesus returned to Nazareth on a spitting camel.
If Lavi was shocked I’d taken the jewelry, he’d hidden it well. Nor had he appeared surprised when I explained I had no child in my womb, only a false tongue in my mouth. Indeed, he smiled a little. His spying and subterfuge in the palace for Judas seemed to have given him a certain appreciation for cunning.
“I would offer you food and wine, but I have neither,” Apion said, opening the door. “Nor do I have much time.”
I sat once again on the musty couch. “I will be quick. Haran’s sister, Yaltha, has lived with me for many years. She knew your father and remembers you as a boy. She helped you with your Greek alphabet.”
He gazed at me with a hint of wariness, and it occurred to me he probably knew a great deal about my aunt, none of it favorable. He would’ve heard the rumors in Alexandria that she’d murdered her husband. If so, he would know Haran had banished her first to the Therapeutae and then to Galilee. Some of that fine, bright confidence I’d felt earlier paled.
“She’s old, but in good health,” I continued. “And it’s her wish to return to the land of her birth. She wishes to go home to serve her brother, Haran. I’ve come to arrange for you to take her with you to Alexandria when you return.”
Still, nothing.
“Yaltha would be a pleasant and docile traveling companion,” I said. “She’s never trouble.” This was an unnecessary falsehood, but I uttered it anyway.
He looked impatiently at the door. “What you’re asking is impossible without Haran’s permission.”
“Oh, but he has given it,” I said. “I sent a letter of request to him, but it reached him after you’d departed. In his return message, he expressed his wish for you to see my aunt safely back to Alexandria.”
He hesitated, uncertain. There had hardly been time for such an exchange. “Show me the letter and I will be satisfied.”
I turned to Lavi, who stood a few paces behind me. “Give me Haran’s letter.”
He looked at me, confused.
“You brought it as I instructed, did you not?”
It took a moment. “The letter, oh, yes. Forgive me, I fear I left it behind.”
I made a show of anger. “My servant has failed me,” I said to Apion. “But it’s not a reason to ignore my uncle’s consent. I will pay you, certainly. Would five hundred drachmae suffice?”
Now we would see if he loved money the way I loved words.
The arches of his brows swept up. I saw it the moment it came into his eyes: greed. “I would require at least one thousand drachmae. And I would expect no mention of the transaction to Haran.”