He meant to remain here? I felt the bottom dropping from my stomach.
“And when I find work,” he said, “I’ll make a request of her father. We can’t get a license without his sanction. He’s a vinedresser in the village of Dionysias. I don’t know if he would give his consent to a foreigner.”
“I can’t imagine her father would refuse you. I’ll write a commendation for you, if you think that would help.”
“Yes, thank you,” he said.
“I need to know—will you still return to Galilee with us? Yaltha and I cannot travel alone; it’s too dangerous.”
“I won’t abandon you, Ana,” he said.
Relief flowed through me, then pleasure. I didn’t think he’d ever addressed me as Ana, not even after I’d pronounced him to be a free man. It seemed not just an act of friendship, but a quiet declaration of his autonomy.
“Don’t worry, I’ll find the money for your passage back to Alexandria,” I said, but the words had scarcely left me before I realized I had the money already. Letter or no letter from Judas, we had no choice but to leave when the money was depleted. We could simply depart earlier, before I was required to pay the last month’s rent. The surplus would pay Lavi’s passage.
“Now, go quickly to the market,” I said. “Go to the one near the harbor.”
“That is not the closest, nor the largest. It would be better—”
“Lavi, this is most important. I need you to also go to the harbor. Look for a ship from Caesarea. Seek out those who arrive on it—merchants, seamen, anyone. I wish for news of Antipas. It’s possible he’s no longer even alive. If he’s ill or dead, we can return to Galilee with peace of mind.”
* * *
? ? ?
I PACED ABOUT OUR QUARTERS while Yaltha read, pausing now and then to offer some commentary on Odysseus, who exasperated her by taking ten years to get home to his wife after the Trojan War. She was no less annoyed with Penelope, who waited for him. I felt a remote kinship with Penelope. I knew a great deal about waiting for men.
In the courtyard, the day was taking its leave. Lavi’s knock, when it finally came, landed with faint, rapid thuds. When I opened the door, he didn’t smile. He looked clenched and wary.
I hadn’t really expected to learn that we were free of Antipas—what was the chance the tetrarch had died in the course of a year? But I hadn’t imagined the intelligence Lavi gathered might be adverse.
He removed a generously sized pouch of gray wool from his shoulder and handed it to me. “The price was three drachmae.”
As he settled cross-legged on the floor, I poured him a cup of Theban wine. Yaltha closed the codex, marking her place with a leather cord. The lamplight flickered and snapped.
“You have news?” I said.
He looked away, the hoods pulled low over his eyes. “When I got to the harbor, I went up and down the moorings. There were ships from Antioch and Rome, but none from Caesarea. I could see three ships beyond the lighthouse approaching, one with crimson on its sail, so I waited. As I thought, it was the Roman cargo ship from Caesarea. It carried some Jewish pilgrims returning from Passover in Jerusalem, but they wouldn’t speak with me. A Roman soldier chased me—”
“Lavi,” I said. “What did you learn?”
He looked into his lap and continued. “One of the men on board didn’t appear as rich as the rest. I followed him. When we were safely from the docks, I offered him the other two drachmae in exchange for news. He was eager to take them.”
“Did he have word of Antipas?” I asked.
“The tetrarch is alive . . . and grows worse in his ways.”
I sighed, but the news was not unexpected. I retrieved the wine jug and refilled Lavi’s cup.
“There’s more,” he said. “The prophet that Judas and your husband followed . . . the one Antipas imprisoned . . .”