Mary Magdalene: A Novel by Diana Wallis Taylor

and his brother and his sister-in-law were dead. He wallowed in his self-pity and continued to allow the merchant to refill his wine cup.
    As the sun set and the shadows crept up the walls of the street, he became aware of the merchant standing by his side.
    “My friend, perhaps it is time to return to your home. The shadows come and thieves are about. It is not safe for you to remain here.”
    A shot of anger rose. He would allow no one to tell him what to do. But just as quickly came the realization that Tubal was a source of much information and a trusted friend. Zerah couldn’t afford to offend him. Rising slowly with Tubal’s help, he straightened himself and began to walk unsteadily toward the door. Lost in his thoughts of revenge, he did not see the Roman soldier staggering down the street toward him. In a moment they collided and the soldier reached for his sword.
    “Jewish pig! You would accost a Roman soldier? I’ll cut you down where you stand!” The soldier stood over him, reeking of wine and weaving back and forth. His eyes were bloodshot and blood was running from a scrape on his arm.
    Zerah sank to his knees, shaking with fear, knowing his life was about to end. With sudden clarity he realized the position his bitterness and jealousy had put him in. He had nothing but a dagger to defend himself with and that was no match for the Roman broadsword. He closed his eyes, unable even to speak or beg for his life, and waited for the end to come. He could only cry out in his heart, Oh Most Holy One, blessed be your name, save me!
    Through the haze of his thoughts, he heard the voice of Tubal. “Ah, Linus, my Roman friend, you are hurt. Turn into my shop and let me tend your wound. I have fresh wine from the coast.”
    The sword wavered as the unsteady soldier listened to Tubal through a drunken haze. Zerah fell to the ground and prostrated himself, remaining motionless. Perhaps the soldier would think him already dead.
    Tubal’s voice came again, wheedling. “See, you have done away with the man. We will get rid of the body for you. Come, let me refresh you.”
    With great effort, the soldier resheathed his sword, and with a curse and a sharp kick that struck Zerah in the ribs, he allowed Tubal to draw him into the wineshop. As Zerah listened to their footsteps move away on the stone floor, he tried to think what to do. Then someone leaned down and whispered fiercely in his ear,
    “Get up, you fool, while you have the chance. He is not looking this way. If you are lucky, when he sobers up, he won’t remember the incident.”
    Zerah got up carefully, feeling the sharp pain of his bruised ribs. Tubal was tending to the soldier, who had his back to the entrance. He didn’t need to be told twice. Holding his side against the pain, he ran.

    Amazed that he had reached his home without being accosted or robbed, Zerah made his way painfully into the courtyard. His servants, Saffira and Jokim, a husband and wife who cared for his home, hurried to him and helped him to his bed. Saffira bound up his side. It was not the first time he’d come home after too much wine, but he had not come home injured before. They shook their heads and left him to sleep it off.
    Zerah woke in the morning to the smell of bread baking in the clay oven. It made his mouth water. He’d thought only of bread as a means to assuage his hunger to go on to better things, but now it soothed him. He lay quietly, contemplating what had happened. He had almost been killed. The realization brought fresh tremors of fear. Then he thought of the frantic prayer he had prayed to HaShem. Had his prayer been heard? He should have been dead, run through with the soldier’s sword, and yet here he was, safe and alive in his own home. What miracle had caused the Holy One to spare his worthless life? He didn’t deserve to live. He was a wretched man who had sinned greatly. In his mind he cringed as he recalled Mary’s bedraggled state and the torment she had