The Divining

     But something unexpected had happened at Daniel's Castle. Word had gotten out that Rabbi Judah was buried there, and that he was continuing to work miracles from the grave. How this happened, Ulrika did not know, but as word spread, and more desperate people visited the ruins, the risk grew that the priests of Marduk would discover Sebastianus's secret rescuing of Judah's body—against priestly orders.

     Ulrika looked at the shadows beneath his eyes and wished she could kiss them away—wished she could take his pain and disillusionment into herself and bring him peace. Sebastianus's faith in the stars had been destroyed. If Timonides had lied all this time, and if a great catastrophe was supposed to have happened, but instead his journey to China was a success, then what did that say of the stars? Although Sebastianus tried to assure Ulrika he was all right, there was a haunted look in his eyes, and at night, while Ulrika held him, Sebastianus wept in his sleep. Sometimes she would wake up and find him outside, looking up at the night sky. "If there are no messages in the stars, then what are the stars for? Are men just twigs being tossed willy-nilly on a raging river with no rudder, no way to steer their courses? And what of the star-stone that fell the night Lucius died? Was it not a message from him after all, but mere coincidence? Is everything a lie?"

     The stars had always been his comfort, his companions, his security. And now they were gone.

     The blue-glazed tiles on the towering walls of the Ishtar Gate gleamed in the noontime sun, and a hundred golden dragons stood in frozen splendor. But Ulrika was aware only of a pair of green eyes filled with grief. "Dearest Sebastianus," she said, "my sojourn in Persia taught me that everything happens for a reason. I know now, as you once told me, that nothing is random, that there is indeed order in the universe. When I look back to the day when I made the decision to leave Rome and go north to warn my father's people of a military trap, I was set upon a road by unseen forces, and everything that has happened to me since was for a reason, everything that has happened to us, my dearest Sebastianus, is for a reason. Even Timonides's falsehoods. Ask the Chaldean."

     "I love you, Ulrika," he said now, tenderly, laying his hand on her cheek. "I will see you before the sun sets."

     "And I love you." They kissed again and then Sebastianus drew back and signaled to Primo, who stood a short distance away. "Keep her close, Primo, and be watchful for temple guards."

     Ulrika was uncomfortable riding a horse, except for when Sebastianus was holding her, and as Daniel's Castle was only ten miles away, and the day was balmy and clear, they walked. Ulrika, Timonides, Primo, and six of his trained men followed the busy highway from the city until they came to a small offshoot road, and they took it out into the desert, away from villages and farms until soon they were trekking through desolation.

     At Ulrika's side, Primo strode in silence, his thick soldier's body and ugly face set in grim resolve.

     Quintus Publius, the ambassador from Rome, was due back soon from his visit to the queen of Magna and he had said he wanted to see no sign of the Gallus caravan. Mithras! Primo thought in frustration. If Quintus found Sebastianus still here, he would have the imperial authority, and soldiers to back it, to arrest Sebastianus and confiscate the caravan, taking them all back to Rome in chains.

     They were supposedly leaving tomorrow. Sebastianus had even given orders for the slaves to pack everything up and be prepared to depart at dawn. But even though his master had promised that no matter what the Chaldean in the Babel Tower said today, tomorrow they would leave forRome, Primo remained cautious. He had received departure orders before, and they were still in Babylon!

     "What is going on?" Ulrika said suddenly, stopping on the trail. "Look at all these people!"

     The desert track, normally deserted, was busy with traffic. "It is a mob!" cried Timonides.

     Ulrika stared at the donkeys and horses, wagons and carrying chairs. There was even a chariot, splendidly arrayed in shining electrum. "The rumors are true," she said. "Rabbi Judah's burial at this place is no longer a secret."

     Miriam and her family had established a camp at the oasis behind the ruins—a small outcropping of palm trees, bushes, and reeds fed by an artesian pool. As soon as Ulrika turned the corner of the castle, and she saw the disorganized mob, she turned to Primo and said, "Can you and your men get these people to leave?"

     He scowled. The crowd consisted of the elderly, people on crutches, impoverished women holding babies. Families had brought loved ones on litters. They carried beloved daughters and fathers, wasted by illness, and laid them beside the place where the well-known faith healer had been laid to rest. "These people are desperate," Primo said. "They have reached the end of their hope. If they believe they can find a miracle here, then all the war chariots in the empire will not budge them."

     Ulrika saw Miriam, at the forefront, trying to control people who were besieging her with questions: "Can you tell me where my son is?" "Will I ever see my husband again?" "Please cure my cancer."

     Primo went first, creating a path through the mob, and when Ulrika reached the distraught Miriam, she said, "How did this happen?"

     Miriam came forward with outstretched arms. "It is good to see you again. I handled it poorly! You said that, in your vision, my Judah said he wanted us to remember him. I told a few of our neighbors, and people in our congregation at the synagogue. They came here to pay respects and somehow, they started saying that miracles were happening."

     Ulrika's eyes widened. "Were they?"

     "Oh, Ulrika, who can say? Some prayed here and went away saying theywere cured. Some prayed here and went home to find something they had lost. Some prayed here and returned to the city to find a long-lost loved one waiting for them. Perhaps they were coincidences, perhaps they were the sort of miracles my Judah was empowered to perform in life. I do not know. But it has gotten out of hand and we do not know how to correct it."

     Ulrika looked around in dismay. This was far worse than she had imagined. The priests of Marduk would surely hear of this—people bringing coins and offerings that otherwise would go to the temples—and then they would learn of Sebastianus's involvement. "Primo," she began—

     "Help us, please. Help my little girl." A young woman carrying a small child pushed to the front of the mob, where Primo's men were using swords and shields to keep everyone back.

     "Please help us," the young mother cried out. "We sold our house. I sold my jewelry. When we ran out of money for physicians, my husband sold himself into slavery and I have not seen him since. My daughter and I are homeless and pe

     There was something in the woman's voice, in her eyes, the posture of her thin body, the tragic rags that hung on her emaciated frame, and most especially, in the way the child lay limp in her arms, that drew Ulrika to her. While others surged around, pressing against Primo's shields, the young woman held her child and pleaded with eyes that had gone deep into shadows from hunger and fear.

     "What happened to her?" Ulrika said, noticing that the child seemed to be alert, as she watched Ulrika with big eyes.