Chapter 28

‘A Jew, you say?’ sneered Rennah. ‘The Prince would not tolerate the sight of him!’ She sat up indignantly. ‘How like you Jews to mock us in our distress!’

Fara had experienced no difficulty in gaining an audience with the Queen, who was curious to learn what had induced the girl to visit her. Supine on her couch she had stared crossly without speaking when Fara was shown in. Wasting no time on insincere amenities, Fara had briefly stated her errand. A friend of hers, a man possessed of divine power to heal, had come from a great distance to see the Prince. The man waited without. He hoped he could help the Prince as he had helped other men. He wanted no money.

‘And where did you become acquainted with this—this God?’

‘In Galilee, Your Majesty. He is a Jew.’

That had brought Rennah up in a towering rage. With fine scorn she had voiced her opinion of Fara’s impudence, and was pointing a trembling finger toward the door.

‘There is a legend among the Syrians,’ said Fara, undisturbed by the Queen’s anger, ‘about their famous warrior-king, Naaman, who contracted leprosy. Learning of a Jewish prophet, who had been endowed with the power to heal diseases, Naaman reluctantly besought this Jew to cure him, and was told to bathe in the Jordan River. This was an unthinkable humiliation to the celebrated Syrian, and he started home enraged beyond any words to tell of it. But—he was a leper and there was no help or hope for him, at all. So he turned back and bathed in the Jordan—and was healed.’

‘Nonsense!’ screamed Rennah. ‘Get out of here! You and your holy Jew! Go—I say—go!’

Fara bowed and moved toward the door. Rennah suddenly rose to her feet and followed her, clutching her arm.

‘No!’ she muttered hoarsely. ‘You shall not go! I forbid you to go!’ She burst out crying. ‘Bring him in!’ With that, the hysterical woman rushed to the door of the Prince’s bed-chamber and entered. There was the sound of voices, Rennah’s softly wheedling, Deran’s shrill with scorn; Fara stepped out into the entry and beckoned to Peter, who followed her through to the Prince’s room, where the Queen nervously admitted them.

‘Deran,’ she said, steadying her voice, ‘here is the Jewish healer who has come all this way from his own country to help you.’

Peter moved toward the bed.

‘And since when,’ stormed Deran, ‘has Arabia sought favours from the Jews?’

‘My son, I am not here as a Jew.’ Peter’s calm, resonant voice seemed to drive the anger from the Prince’s sunken eyes. ‘Nor have I come,’ he went on quietly, ‘to minister to an Arabian. We are two fellow men, both of us God’s children. Let us forget our nationality now, and treat each other as brothers.’ He reached out his hand to take Deran’s. Instinctively the Prince recoiled, withdrawing his hand; but, on second thoughts, slowly and reluctantly offering it.

Rennah drew in closer. She was weeping quietly.