A few minutes later, a courier rushed into the office and handed Pilate a note. The governor read it and then immediately strode out with Publius and Volusus in tow. Since no one had spoken to me, I took the opportunity to slip back up to our room and rejoin the others.
The palace woman was waiting for me at the base of the stairs. I had become so engrossed in the conversation I had just overheard that I had completely forgotten about her.
We jogged up the steps, and as the servant opened the door, I saw that Markowitz was awake, though a bit groggy and suffering from the effects of a hangover.
“Can you get that servant to bring us some coffee?” he grumbled.
“Sure,” Lavon laughed, “you’ll only need to wait eight hundred years.”
Coffee, as it turns out, didn’t appear in the historical record until the ninth century.
Markowitz made a barely audible grunt while I introduced the woman to the others. Naomi examined us with the trained eye of a practiced courtesan. Then she stepped over to the bed and began to remove her clothes.
I hadn’t expected this — at least not yet.
“Tell her to stop,” I said to Lavon.
He did so, and we were all surprised by her puzzled reaction.
“You don’t like women?” she asked.
We all laughed after Lavon translated.
“Of course we like women,” I said. “Only women, we must emphasize.”
I, for one, wanted no confusion on that point.
Lavon told her what I had said, but she only grew more perplexed.
“Very well; I am yours all day,” she said.
I considered this for a moment.
“Tell her the day is early,” I instructed Lavon. “We have some things we’d like to discuss with her first.”
That seemed to satisfy her that we were ordinary, red-blooded men. She jostled with her clothes for a minute and then sat down on the bed.
Lavon sent our servant to fetch some breakfast, both because we were hungry and because we needed to be certain that we weren’t overheard. Once the kid had gone, he asked her what she knew about the Amazon.
“You know her?” she asked.
“We serve her father,” said Lavon. “She was taken to the king against our will.”
I couldn’t help but chime in. As goofy as it sounds now, it seemed like the thing to say.
“And I have sworn an oath to my God not to enjoy the company of women until we get her back. Surely you understand why this makes our task all the more urgent.”
At that, she smiled, though her face also reflected concern.
“I have heard the soldiers talk: the king is smitten. He will never release her.”
“We know. That’s why we need your help,” said Lavon.
“We have reason to believe she is being held in the Phasael Tower,” I said.
“Yes, she is being kept in a chamber at the very top. After her escape, the guards are taking no chances.”
“How did her face get bruised?” I asked.
“The tracker caught her sleeping. When he moved to seize her, she screamed and jabbed him in the eye. From what I heard, he punched her and threw her to the ground.”
So that’s what had happened.
“Was he punished for this?” I asked.
“I don’t think so. Herod requires the Bedouin’s services to track down fugitives. The man has never once failed to locate his quarry.”
“What about the guard she slipped by; the one atop the wall?”
Her face turned grim. “Herod had him flogged, for dereliction of duty. I think he survived, but I am not certain of this.”
This was unwelcome news.
“He has also forbidden wine on the walls.”
This was even more unwelcome. I explained to the others that Sharon would remain alive as long as she retained the king’s favor. The instant she lost it, she could expect nothing but the worst sort of abuse.
I suppose one had to be an old soldier to know.
Sharon’s escape had turned what had been a cushy posting into a tedious chore. The men would now have to endure inspections and drills for months on end, even though everyone, from the king on down, knew that nothing of consequence would happen on those walls for the next decade.
Lavon frowned; then he turned back to Naomi with a look of newfound urgency. “Will you help us?” he asked.
“What can I do?”
“You are aware of secret passageways through the palace, are you not? Tunnels, drains, water conduits — places a person could slip in and out undetected?”
“Yes, I have been through many passageways that few others know about.”
“Then you can lead us to her, and show us how to get away once we have rescued her.”
Her head drooped and she quit smiling. She didn’t say anything for a minute or two; then she glanced up at Lavon, with a sad expression on her face.
“I cannot,” she said. “I told you: the king is smitten with her. If he discovers my role in her escape, as he surely will, he will have me beaten.”
She shook her head and shuddered. A woman being thrashed was something she had undoubtedly witnessed, more than once.
“And if I survived that, Herod would order me sold — to a filthy shepherd’s brothel, or to a squad of soldiers, or worse. I cannot take that chance.”
No one could argue with her logic, so we spent the next few moments brooding in silence.
“We understand,” Lavon finally said, “but we can offer you another option. Once Sharon is free, we will go back to our country. You may come with us and live as a free woman, obligated to no one.”
She sat up straighter, clearly interested.
“How does your country differ from this one? What can I expect to see in your lands?”
“Wonders beyond your wildest imagination,” replied Lavon. “If you’d like, you can even fly through the heavens, like a bird.”
I shot Lavon a dirty look. We’d gain no advantage by pushing things too far.
“Fly like a bird?” she said.
Then she began laughing. “You are amusing, Lavonius. What will you say next? That men from your land have walked on the moon?”
Lavon glanced in my direction and smiled before turning his attention back to Naomi.
“I am serious,” he said. “If you choose to help our woman escape and return to our country with us, you will not have to worry about earning a living. Her father will reward you, in gold. He is very rich.”
“How much gold?” she asked.
Lavon looked around the room and finally pointed to the water jug, which looked like it held a couple of gallons.
“Do you see that jug?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Fill it with gold; it will all be yours.”
Her eyes lit up for a moment, but then I could see her grow skeptical. Whatever that amounted to in modern US dollars — roughly $5 million, I learned later — I knew Sharon’s old man had it. But once again, Lavon seemed to be overselling our case.
Naomi sat quietly on the bed, considering her options.
“I can’t believe she doesn’t jump at the chance,” said Bryson.
From the modern perspective, the Professor might have been right, but as I thought about it, her hesitation was understandable.
Despite her duties, Naomi lived in the palace, while most women of Jerusalem spent their days emptying chamber pots, or standing in line for water and carrying it half a mile, several times a day.
“You may find it hard to comprehend, but by their standards, she has something to lose,” I said.
That gave Lavon an idea.
“Naomi, how long have you lived in the palace?”
She considered this for a moment. “Fourteen years. Azariah bought me when I was eleven.”
“So you are twenty-five years old?”
“Yes.”
“What will you do when you get older?” he asked.
She paused to think. “I will oversee the palace women, when I am too old to serve men directly.”
“How can you be sure of this?”
“The king and his officers all favor me.”
“Yes; for now,” said Lavon, “but the king can change his mind, can’t he? Besides, kings die; and kings are overthrown, all over the world, all the time. If Herod were no longer king, you could just as easily spend the rest of your days scrubbing latrines.”
She frowned. I was certain that this had crossed her mind before; but as with other unpleasant truths, she had pushed it to the back of her consciousness. It was something I did often enough.
“Help us,” said Lavon. “We can spare you that fate.”
She sat there for maybe five minutes, weighing her decision, with her mind going back and forth.
I began to grow concerned: we had only a limited time window, and without someone who knew the ins and outs of the palace, our mission was almost certainly doomed.
As it turned out, it wasn’t the prospect of buckets of gold or flights through the heavens that saved us; nor was it her dread of an old age spent in degrading servitude.
It was a tooth.
She suddenly gave a sharp cry and reached up to her jaw with her hand.
Now I’m even less of a real dentist than I am a doctor — I don’t even play one of those on TV — but I made a great show of examining her, even if all I had to offer was a small tube of oral analgesic.
Luckily, it worked.
Lavon explained to her that if she came back with us, we could fix her teeth permanently and she would experience no more pain. As strange as it may sound, that did the trick.