Ulrika returned her attention to the two standing in the center of the silent crowd, and saw that the praying woman had begun to sob. Covering her face with her hands, she bent her head and wept. The Jewish wonder-worker laid a hand on her shoulder and said, "Do you understand now, sister?"
The woman nodded, too overcome to speak.
The small crowd began to shift and murmur. It was someone else's turn. Yet there was no pushing and shoving, no calling out or holding up coins. Ulrika wondered if they had been told ahead of time to be respectful of Judah, or if it was something they instinctively sensed.
The woman left—trying to give Judah coins, which he refused—and now the small gathering grew tense as each hoped the Jewish wonder-worker would choose her or him next. To their disappointment, however, the middle-aged Jew cleared his throat and said in a sonorous voice, "Brothers and sisters, mercy unto you and peace, and charity fulfilled. Remember this: nothing is lost, nothing is hidden. Ask, and it will be given. Seek, and it will be found. There is redemption in forgiveness, as a man should be remembered for his good deeds and not for his sins. But know this above alclass="underline" there is no death, there is only eternal life as long you keep yourselves in the love of God. And draw comfort, too, in the knowledge that God has a divine plan, the final goal of which is the highest good for humankind. We have only to obey his sacred Law and we will be redeemed."
The gathering broke up peacefully. Ulrika did not understand what had just taken place. There had been no dramatic demonstration of magic, no explosive powders, no transformation of water into wine, no spontaneous healing of blindness and paralysis, and certainly none of the attendant noise and cheering from the mob that one saw in other market squares with other wonder-workers.
She wondered why her wolf vision had led her here.
But in the next instant, the rabbi turned and looked right at her and Ulrika felt something fly across the small, sunlit square, brush against her eyes like invisible wings, and soar down through her body to the center of her soul. She gasped. She could not move.
Judah came toward her. He walked with a limp. He smelled of bread and onions, and Ulrika saw close-up, in the prodigious gray beard that fanned across his broad chest, a pistachio shell.
"Blessings, daughter," he said in Aramaic. "What is it you seek?"
Ulrika looked at the others drifting away from the small square, and wondered why he had singled her out. "Are you a mystic, honorable father?" she asked.
He smiled. "I am an unworthy servant of God, glory and majesty to Him."
She looked in the direction the weeping woman had gone, under a stone archway flanked by two Ishtar-egg vendors who were, at that moment, snoozing in the sun.
"That dear sister had lost something, and now she knows where to find it," Judah said, anticipating Ulrika's question. "But you seek something yourself, daughter. Can I help?"
Ulrika scanned the leathery face for signs of deceit. But Judah's eyes were open and honest, his middle-aged features clear of the slightest shadow of guile. And he had not asked for money, something all charlatans did before offering a service. It occurred to Ulrika that he might be a genuinely honest man—he made her think of Sebastianus—and so she said, "I am learning to meditate. But I cannot seem to concentrate. It is a form of prayer, I was told, and so I thought..."
He nodded. "Come, break bread with us."
Ulrika had expected to be in the company of a small family, a private affair, but the house of Rabbi Judah was open to all. The courtyard was crowded with people of all ages and social status. And the gathering was lively and full of joy, with singing and testimonials and spiritual revelations. Judah asked for silence and he preached to the excited company, a message centering upon the End of Days and a new age approaching, which he called "the kingdom."
The crowd burst into praise and singing while Judah moved among them, blessing them and thanking them for coming. When he reached Ulrika, he gave her a long, searching look and said, "Why do you wish to learn meditation?"
"Honorable Rabbi," she said, "I have been visited by visions all my life. They are inexplicable, they come randomly and seem to have no purpose. I seek a way to command them, and to learn how to put them to good use."
Judah said, "Many of our faithful are blessed with visions and spiritual phenomena. Some are even touched by the Spirit and then speak in tongues. Come, you will want to confer with Miriam."
Judah led her inside the house, which was quieter and with fewer people. A middle-aged woman dressed all in brown with a brown veil covering her hair sat upon a chair with several people seated on the floor at her feet. She was plump and reminded Ulrika of a rosy-faced partridge.
Judah said, "My wife Miriam is like Deborah of old, a judge who was also a prophetess. Like Deborah, Miriam is not one who foretells the future but who hears a message from God and passes it on to others."
When Judah introduced the young woman to his wife, Miriam reached for Ulrika's hands and said, "Do not be troubled, daughter, for you are blessed. God has given you a gift."
"But I do not know how to use it." Ulrika replied. "I have been practicing focused meditation, but I cannot concentrate long enough. I fall asleep, or my mind wanders. What else must I do?"
Taking Ulrika's hands, she looked deep into her eyes and said, "Do you fast before you meditate?"
"Fast? No."
Miriam said, "Fasting cleanses the body of the impurities that impede clarity of prayer. Fasting also keeps one awake. Hunger sharpens the senses, your mind will not wander. Do this, and you will be successful."
"Thank you, Honored Mother."
"I hear doubt in your voice. Let me tell you this, daughter: imagine your gift as a house filled with wonderful treasure. You do not know the way inside, but as you circle the house, you catch glimpses through windows, and you see fabulous things. Is this how it is with your spiritual gift?"
"Yes," Ulrika whispered.
"You need to find the door, daughter, and the key to its lock. Once you are inside, the treasure is yours."
"Key!" Ulrika said, recalling what the Egyptian seer had told her in the Street of Fortune Tellers. "Is meditation this key?
"I do not know," Miriam said. "But you are searching for a place, are you not, for the beginnings of your soul? You must find this place for it is essential to the spiritual path. I sense that you have strayed and must start again."
"That is what I have been told. Do you know where Shalamandar is?"
"I know nothing of Shalamandar, but there is one who does. He will take you there."
"Who is it?" Ulrika asked in rising excitement.
Miriam closed her eyes and, swaying in her chair, murmured words that Ulrika did not understand—it did not even sound like a human language but a kind of gibberish. When she stopped, the rabbi's wife opened her eyes and said, "You must go to Persia and save a prince and his people."
"A prince!" Ulrika frowned. "But how can I save a prince?"
"If you do not, his bloodline will end. His people will be no more."
"Is it this prince who will take me to Shalamandar? Will he give me a key? Can you tell me his name?"
"All answers lie in Persia. Go in peace, daughter."