Chapter 7

‘No, no, my child!’ he protested. ‘What you have set out to do is utterly impossible! You are very brave, but this is something that no amount of courage can accomplish!’

‘Would you counsel me then to break my vow?’ There was disappointment and reproach in her query.

‘I hope you will not ask me to assist in sending you to certain death!’ he muttered.

Esther’s eyes widened. David didn’t want to be asked to assist. Perhaps that meant that he could—if he wished.

‘Please remember, Master David,’ she said entreatingly, ‘I have burned all my bridges to Arabia; I have no home in Jewry; I have sworn to avenge my mother; and that I intend to do. If I should lose my life, well, is it not better for me to die with honour than to live to no purpose at all—unwanted anywhere, an embarrassment to those I love?’

The old man sat for a long time with half-closed eyes, stroking his grey beard. After a while he surprised her by what seemed an abrupt change in their conversation.

‘My long-time friend and client, Jairus, informs me that the Tetrarch has recently acquired the entire private library of a bankrupt Corinthian. The scrolls—Greek classics, for the most part—have been long neglected, their owner having spent his recent years in a Roman prison.’

Esther had come to attention and was listening with wide eyes and parted lips.

‘Perhaps the Tetrarch will want someone to mend the broken scrolls,’ she said, ‘and put his library in order.’

‘Perhaps. We shall see,’ said David. ‘I shall inquire of Lysias, the steward.’

Deborah and Hannah were approaching.

‘Let me see you again,’ said David—’the day after tomorrow.’

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