Christ the Lord - Anne Rice [75]
There were offers of gold, offers of food, offers of wine for the road. I took nothing, except a final, delicious drink of water.
I looked down at my new tunic and my splendid robe. I looked at the finely crafted sandals. I smiled. “Such soft clothing,” I whispered. “I've never seen myself dressed in this manner.”
Dry hiss of the desert wind.
“It's nothing, my lord, it's the least, the very least,” said Ravid, and the others joined their declarations with his and he repeated them.
“You've been too kind to me,” I said. “You've dressed me as I should be dressed, because I'm on my way to a wedding.”
“My lord, eat slowly and very little each time,” said the woman who'd fed me. “You are gaunt and feverish.”
I kissed her fingers and nodded.
I started northward.
24
AS BEFORE, the air of jubilation gripped those at the river, encompassing the pilgrims who came and went. The crowds were even larger than before, and the number of soldiers had greatly increased, with bands of Romans standing here and there, and many of the King's soldiers watching warily, though no one seemed to take notice of them.
The Jordan was flowing swiftly here and full. We were just south of the sea.
My cousin John sat on a rock beside the stream, and watched his disciples as they baptized the kneeling men and women.
Suddenly John looked up, as if pulled out of his thoughts by some sudden realization.
He looked across the river at me as I came walking along slowly, slipping through the porous crowd, my eyes fixed on him.
He stood and pointed his finger.
“The Lamb of God!” he cried. “The Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.”
It was a trumpet blast turning every head.
My younger cousin John bar Zebedee gave over the conch from his hands into John's hands.
I held the eyes of John bar Zechariah for a moment. I glanced slowly, deliberately, at the masses of soldiers to my left and then at those to my right. John lifted his chin. He gave a small nod. I returned the nod.
A shiver passed over me. A darkness rose as if the distant mountains had climbed Heavenward and blotted out the sun. The gleaming river was gone. The radiant face of John was gone. My heart was cold and small. But then it grew warmer and I felt it beating. The sun struck the water again and set it afire. John bar Zebedee and another disciple were coming towards me.
The crowd thundered with its usual eager and happy voices.
“Where are you lodging, Rabbi?” asked John bar Zebedee. “I'm your kinsman.”
“I know who you are,” I said. “Come and see. I go to Capernaum. I go to lodge with the toll collector.”
I kept walking. My young cousin deluged me with questions. “My lord, what is it you want us to do? My lord, we are your servants. Tell us, Lord, what do you want of us.”
I answered all this with a soft laugh. We had hours before we would reach Capernaum.
Now my sister Little Salome lived in Capernaum. She was a widow with a little son, and lived with her husband's family, who were kin to us and to Zebedee. And I wanted to go to her.
But when we reached Capernaum, Andrew bar Jonah who had come along with John and me from the Jordan now went to tell his brother Simon that they had indeed found the Messiah. He went off to the edge of the sea, and I followed him. I saw his brother Simon bringing in his boat, and with him was Zebedee, John's father, who had John's brother James in the boat with him.
These men were startled by Andrew's excited words.
In the silence, they stared at me.
I waited.
Then I told James and Simon to follow me.
They came at once, and now Simon begged me, please, to come to his house because his mother-in-law was sick with a fever. Word had already reached the sea that I'd driven demons out of the famous demoniac of Magdala. Might I surely cure this woman?
I went into the house and saw her lying there, just sick enough not to care whether or not her children were making noise around her—talking to her of a holy man, and words spoken with great weight at the Jordan River.
I took her hand. She turned