ADVENTURES THROUGH TIME (2025 Edition) by Michel Poulin - HTML preview

CHAPTER 6 – YESHUA

 

16:36 (Jerusalem Time)

Wednesday, October 16, 2 C.E.

(24th day of the month of Tishri, year 3763 of the Hebrew calendar) Bethlehem of Galilee, Israel

Yosef felt ambiguous about the coming birth as he got out of his house, wanting a quiet moment alone to reflect on things. When he had found Miriam obviously pregnant five months ago, even though he had never slept with her, he had nearly abandoned her then. Only her desperate pleas of innocence had made him reconsider giving her a second chance. Having discussed already a marriage contract with Miriam’s parents, but not having married her yet, he knew what the loose tongues in Nazareth would say about this. After much indecision, he had spoken to Miriam’s mother, Anna, who then had promptly examined her daughter and, to their mutual surprise and disbelief, found her still a virgin. They had not publicized that fact, though, fearing that the villagers would accuse them of blasphemy. Having such a virgin pregnancy could only mean that the hand of God had been at work, or that of the Devil. Even formally marrying Miriam three months ago had not stopped the nasty rumors in Nazareth about who was the real father of the coming child. Some had even suggested that Miriam had somehow whored herself with a Roman soldier from the nearby garrison town of Sepphoris. Yosef, growing fed up with so much meanness, had finally brought Miriam to Bethlehem a month ago to make her escape the gossips in Nazareth. This being the native village of his deceased first wife, the neighbors had been much kinder with Miriam, greeting her warmly and taking care of her needs when Yosef had to go away because of his work as a journeyman and carpenter. Once the child would be born and circumcised, though, Yosef would have to return his present house and farming fields, which had been part of his first wife’s dowry, to his first parents-in-law. Then, as was the custom in Galilee, he would move to Miriam’s house in Nazareth with her and their newborn child, along with his two sons from his first marriage, Yaaqov and Josua. Even that short trip would be a problem for Miriam, who was going to be still weak from giving birth. Yosef had been looking for a donkey or an ass he could borrow

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or rent then for Miriam, but there were none available in the area right now. They were thus facing an incoming hard trip for Miriam to a place where their new child would be called a mamzer, a child of uncertain fatherhood, with all the ostracism that title implied.

Yosef was standing behind a low wall of loose stones, still thinking about the kind of welcome he and Miriam would get in Nazareth, when he noticed the approach of a horseman in the distance. Horses were rare enough in Galilee, save for those of soldiers, for this to attract his attention immediately. Yosef then remembered the gossips about Miriam possibly bedding a Roman soldier and anger flared in him. He stared hard as the rider got closer to the village, going at a steady amble along a footpath between two fields. The low sun glinted on metal which was part of the horse’s barding, reinforcing Yosef’s opinion about the rider being a soldier. The stranger was soon close enough to be examined in detail. Yosef’s jaw then dropped: the rider was a woman! Young and beautiful, she wore blue trousers, brown boots, a red shirt with white and gold geometric designs and a blue cloak. A leather headband was covering her forehead and numerous weapons were hung on her or her horse. Her long black hair floated in the wind as she approached Yosef, who was the only person visible to her on this side of the village. Yosef was both nervous and curious as the woman stopped opposite him on the other side of the low stone wall, then jumped deftly out of the saddle. She was very tall, nearly a giant, and dominated him by nearly a full head. To his surprise, she then spoke in fluent Aramaic.

“Good afternoon, good man. I have been traveling from very far and was wondering if I could draw water from your village’s well and pitch my tent nearby.”

“Uh, if you come from so far, how come you speak such good Aramaic, woman?” She smiled at his question, showing perfect white teeth.

“A legitimate question, Galilean. Years ago, I befriended a family of Jewish merchants in the city of Ephesus, on the coast of the Aegean Sea. I also learned about the Jewish religion from them and am on my way to Jerusalem, where I want to see the great temple and experience the true God.”

That last sentence pleased Yosef and made him relax a bit. Even if that woman was not Jewish, she was a God-fearer, someone at least partly acceptable to observant Jews like him. Looking at her horse, an idea then crossed his mind.

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“How much in a hurry are you, woman? My wife is about to give birth and she was going to face a short but hard trip back to her village soon. I was wondering if you could loan us the use of your horse for that trip.”

The stranger’s smile turned into a grin.

“I have been traveling for many months now. Two or three more weeks would mean little to me. If you would be so kind to be ready to give me shelter for the time being, then I would be pleased to provide you the services of my horse and of myself.” She frowned when her words made Yosef cringe.

“I meant my services as horse handler and nothing else, Galilean.”

“Uh, I would never have asked for anything improper, woman. Then, we have a deal?”

“A deal it is! If your house is already crowded, just pitching my tent besides it would be more than enough for me. By the way, when is your wife due?”

“Any time now. By the way, I am Yosef.”

“And you can call me Nauca.”

“Then follow me.”

The woman made her horse vault over the low stone wall, then followed Yosef towards the village’s water well. The excited shouts from a young boy who had emerged from one of the houses of the village quickly drew more people out. By the time Yosef and Nauca arrived at the well, half of the village was gathering around the woman and her horse, keeping a cautious distance while detailing both of them with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Nauca’s weapons in particular drew whispered comments. She ignored those while drinking from the well and filling her water flask, then smiled at the crowd around her.

“Shelama7! Do not worry: I come in peace. I was on my way to the great temple of Jerusalem, to learn about the true God. My name is Nauca.”

“Where are you from, woman?” asked an old, bearded man. “I never saw clothes like yours before.”

“I am a Sarmatian, from the plains West of the Caspian Sea. I however spent years in the city of Ephesus before starting on my present trek.”

“Do the Sarmatian always let their women go around with weapons, alone?”

 

7 Shelama: peace in Aramaic

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There was more than a hint of reprobation in the old man’s question but Nauca ignored that and kept smiling.

“Yes, they do! Sarmatian girls hunt and fight with their men, and we are free.” Many in the crowd stepped back, disturbed: in Galilee, like in the rest of Israel, women had no business traveling alone, let alone carry arms. Yosef then jumped in the conversation, trying to smooth things.

“This woman agreed to loan me the services of her horse to carry Miriam when I will have to bring her back to Nazareth. In exchange, I will shelter her until our departure.”

Heads bobbed up and down at those words: exchanging services was a way of life in Galilee, taking the place of the vilified gold, silver and copper coins of the Romans as a mode of payment. Yosef then led Nauca and her horse towards one of the groups of houses, still followed by the crowd. Before entering the courtyard of the cluster of buildings, Nauca took out of a saddlebag a long iron stake with a loop at one end and, using the back of her axe, hammered it deep into the ground. She next tied her horse’s bridle to the stake and untied her bags from the back of the saddle, throwing them over her shoulders. Yosef led her inside the courtyard, into which the houses opened, turning left and stopping in front of the second door before looking at Nauca.

“Just let me time to tell Miriam and my two sons about our deal. It won’t be long.” Entering his house, Yosef found Miriam resting on top of a sheep’s skin in the main room, while his two young sons played with clay toys in the next room. Kneeling besides his young wife of fourteen, Yosef gently took her left hand.

“Good news, Miriam: I have found someone who is willing to lend us a horse for your impending trip back to Nazareth.”

“Oh? But nobody in this village has a horse. Where did you find it?”

“A stranger just arrived while on a long trek to Jerusalem. In exchange, we will provide shelter and food until our departure.”

Miriam hesitated slightly before answering.

“But…I am about to have a baby. We can’t have a stranger in our house at such a time.”

“Don’t worry: she is willing to sleep outside, in a tent.”

Miriam’s eyes popped wide open in surprise at those words.

“She? A woman is traveling on a horse, alone?”

“She is a bit special; I will give you that. She is waiting outside right now.”

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“Uh, alright. Let her in, Yosef.”

Yosef quickly went to the door and opened it, signaling Nauca to come in. The Sarmatian left her bags outside and entered. She had to bend down to clear the doorway and her head was near the ceiling when she straightened up. Miriam stared at her for a moment, then smiled to her.

“Welcome, stranger. My name is Miriam.”

“And my name is Nauca. Thank you for your hospitality.” Nauca then looked around the small room, detailing as well the even smaller room from where Yosef’s sons were now staring at her.

“You already have little room to yourselves, especially with a baby soon to come. It would also be improper for a passing woman to sleep here, beside your husband. If this doesn’t offend you, I can camp outside: I have a small but sturdy tent with me.” Miriam smiled in appreciation at the consideration shown by the tall stranger. She seemed to be a decent person, notwithstanding her weapons.

“Are you sure that this would not incommode you?”

“Not one bit: us Sarmatians are accustomed to hardships. I will go set up my tent, then I will play a little music for you.”

“You play music? Which instrument do you use?”

“I have a lute, a flute and a lyre with me. I won’t be long.” Miriam watched Nauca leave, then looked at Yosef.

“She seems to be a good person. Besides, she could probably help entertain Yaaqov and Josua with the stories of her travels and her music. Uh, you don’t think that she is a…”

Yosef shook his head, knowing what Miriam was thinking. In Galilee, the traveling female musicians used by Jews who lived like the Romans were widely known for their libertine ways, many being not much more than prostitutes.

“I don’t think so. Remember the way she objected to sleeping besides me, even with you present. She is certainly a wild woman but I doubt that she is an easy woman. She told me that she learned about our religion from a family of Jewish merchants in some Greek city far from here and that she is traveling to Jerusalem to see the temple. I think that she wants to convert.”

“Will the priests accept her? She is so…different.”

“Frankly, I don’t know about that, Miriam.”

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Nauca, a.k.a. Nancy Laplante, returned twenty minutes later to find Miriam up and preparing a frugal meal for her family. Quickly putting down in one corner the lute and the lyre she had brought with her, she went to help Miriam with the heavy clay pot of water she was handling.

“Miriam, you should not exert yourself so soon before giving birth.”

“But I have to prepare supper for my family.”

“Then let me help you. Just tell me what you want to be done.” Yosef watched on, sitting in one corner with his two sons, while Nauca had Miriam sit down and took over the meal’s preparation. He wasn’t sure if eating food prepared by a non-Jew would make them unclean, but finally decided that, since the ingredients were pure according to the Jewish religion, the final result should be acceptable. As if to placate his fears, Nauca carefully washed her hands before starting to cook. In the days to come, Yosef was going to be struck by Nauca’s apparent obsession with cleanliness. The Sarmatian proved anyway to be an efficient cook who seemed to know well the traditions of Jewish cuisine. That, for Yosef, was evidence that her story about befriending a Jewish family before was a true one. Even the way she prepared the flat bread which went with the salted fish was identical with that used by his own mother or his first wife. The more he watched her act in his home, the more he thought of her as a Jewish woman in funny clothes. The Aramaic she spoke would actually have sounded at home in Jerusalem. The Jews she had befriended in a Greek city were thus probably from Judea.

They all ate silently at first after Nauca served the food, but Yosef could feel the urge in his sons to ask questions to the Sarmatian. That didn’t escape Nauca’s attention either.

“Well, how about some stories about my travels?” she said cheerfully, getting shouts of approval from the two young boys. Eating more slowly now, she spoke at length about her youth as the daughter of a Sarmatian man and of a Thracian female captive who had won her captor’s admiration and love with her sheer courage and resilience. She then spoke of her parents’ death from an epidemic while she was sixteen, how she left her decimated tribe to travel South, then West, to eventually stop in the Greek city-colony of Ephesus, on the coast of Asia Minor. Miriam looked envious as Nauca told of how she had educated herself in Ephesus, learning music, dancing, singing and even writing while employed as a mercenary by the local ruler. When

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Nauca started telling about her encounters with a family of Jewish merchants in Ephesus, Yosef carefully prodded her to see how much she really knew about Jewish religion and customs. The Sarmatian passed that test with flying colors, answering him as well as any Jewish woman would. Then, Nauca took her lute and started playing it while singing a ballad in a foreign language. Her first song, which drew frank applauds from Yosef and his family, was followed by another, this time in Hebrew.

Darkness was coming quickly when Nauca excused herself for the night and left the house with her musical instruments. Yosef had to raise his voice at his sons, who wanted to hear more songs and stories from the Sarmatian, then sent them to sleep in the smaller room of the house. Returning to Miriam’s side, Yosef caressed her huge belly, feeling the kicks from the baby inside.

“What do you think of her, Miriam?”

She caressed his beard, smiling and apparently content.

“I like her, Yosef. She may not be Jewish but she is a decent person. You did well to enlist her and her horse. I will have to see that beast tomorrow.”

“It is a big, powerful one. It will probably be able to carry you and both of our sons.”

“Yosef, do you still want to name our baby Yeshua, if it is a boy?”

“Yes! If it is a girl, then we will name her Sarah. Now, you better go to sleep: you tire easily with that belly of yours.”

She didn’t fight him on that, feeling actually spent from what had been a relatively quiet day for her. As she lay on her sheep’s skin, Miriam thought about the baby inside her. Was God really the father of it, or was it the work of some devil? How would the child be received in Nazareth, where the tongues had been hard at work in her back? She was still full of doubts when she finally fell asleep.

It was still pitch dark when violent contractions woke Miriam up, making her moan in pain. She tried to keep quiet and to ignore them, but she soon had to wake Yosef up.

“Yosef, it is coming…very soon.”

“By the grace of God! At this hour?” replied her husband, panicking in the dark.

“Yes! Please, get some help.”

“Let me light a lamp first.”

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That took a few long minutes, with Yosef fumbling around in the dark while Miriam moaned and held her belly. He was about to leave the house, a lit oil lamp in his right hand, when someone knocked hurriedly on the door. Yosef opened the door to find Nauca standing outside with a lit torch, worry on her face.

“I heard Miriam moan in pain. Is the baby coming?”

“Uh, yes, we think so.”

“May I help? I assisted births many times before.”

Yosef hesitated only slightly before answering: the blood from the birth process was going to render temporarily impure anyone who was going to touch Miriam or the baby, so having a non-Jew assist Miriam would not represent an offense to the Jewish religion…he thought. Of course, the Pharisees in Judea would probably object to that. They doubted the religious purity of Galileans all the time anyway.

“Please come in, woman.”

Nauca put her torch in one corner near Miriam, stuck vertically between three rocks, then knelt beside the pregnant teenager and rolled up the girl’s robe to examine her.

“I will need a pot of water and clean rags, lots of them. The water will have to be boiled.”

“Uh, we have no cloth.” Answered Yosef.

Nauca shook her head in frustration and got up.

“I have some I can spare. Get the water in the meantime and boil it.” She stormed out of the house, getting back after two minutes with a piece of rolled white cloth in her arms. She was ripping it in large strips with her dagger when Yosef returned with a pot full of water. He proceeded to light a fire in the central hearth, then put the pot of water over it. By now, Nauca was reassuring Miriam with soft words, telling her how to breathe and push with the contractions. The water in the pot soon started to boil.

“The water is boiling. What do I do now?”

“Let it boil for a short while, then take the pot off the fire to let it cool down, with a piece of clean cloth to cover it. Boiled water helps prevent infections if we clean the woman’s belly and groin with it before the delivery.”

Yosef had never heard about that before but did what she said nonetheless. Right now, he was a nervous wreck and couldn’t think straight by himself anyway.

The next few hours were nerve-wracking for Yosef, with each whimper of pain from Miriam making him jump. Nauca finally told him to wait outside and to get another

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woman to come help her. Yosef got out and realized that the sun was now up. Seeing the wife of his old neighbor, he went quickly to her and asked for her help, explaining Miriam’s predicament. The woman understood quickly and went inside Yosef’s house, leaving him to pace nervously around the central courtyard in the gray dawn while his two sons went to play with other children. Time seemed to slow down from then on for Yosef.

“I see the head now!” said Nauca excitedly, with the old neighbor looking on. “Keep pushing, Miriam! It won’t be long now.”

“I’m doing only that!” protested the teenager, exhausted and in pain. She did however keep up her efforts. She was soon rewarded by a scream from Nauca.

“I have it!”

The noise of two slaps was followed by a wail from the baby now held head-down by Nauca. Quickly wiping the baby clean with a wet cloth, she gave it to Salome, the neighbor, then made a knot in the umbilical cord and cut it with her dagger. She made another knot on the part still attached to the placenta, then handed the crying baby to Miriam after gently washing him.

“Congratulation, it’s a boy. How are you going to call him?”

“Yeshua. He’s beautiful.”

Nauca nodded gravely while staring at the baby boy. While the miniature multi-spectral camera hidden in her leather headband could not see it, she could see the spiritual aura surrounding the baby’s body, like the auras of all the persons around her. That was one thing she had started to see after being transformed by the old Semitic man in Colditz: every living person had an aura which varied a bit in intensity and color, depending on the strength and nature of their spirit. This baby’s aura was at least ten times more intense than that of any other person she had seen yet, apart from her own aura, and was pure white in color. She suddenly felt very humble. Washing Miriam’s groin, legs and belly with warm water and clean pieces of cloth, she then got on her feet and smiled at the old neighbor.

“My part is done, Salome. Since I have touched blood and am unclean now, I will go away for seven days. Once the rest of the placenta comes out, wash again Miriam with the warm water.”

Salome nodded her head.

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“For a stranger, you know our religious customs very well, Nauca. You also are quite good at delivering babies. You did well today.”

“I only helped a girl in need. Miriam, I will be back in seven days, I promise.”

“We will be waiting for you, Nauca. You are my friend now.”

“I am truly honored by that. Shelama, Miriam.”

Leaving the house, Nauca went to Yosef, who was standing in the center of the courtyard and was staring at her and her blood-covered clothes.

“You can now go see your wife and your new son, Yosef. I will now leave for seven days to cleanse myself.”

Yosef didn’t reply, instead running inside his house. Not staying further, Nauca went out of the courtyard to take down her tent and pack her things.

As promised, Nauca showed back in Bethlehem seven days later, in mid-morning. In reality, Nancy had simply ridden her horse to a location out of sight of the village, then jumped ahead by seven days. Her horse may have been a very convincing recreation of a real horse, but it was also a powerful time machine and could fly, if need be. A happy Miriam waved in welcome at her while sitting beside her house, little Yeshua sucking milk from her left breast. Galloping to her, Nauca stopped her horse in front of the teenager and jumped down before kissing her on both cheeks.

“You look well, Miriam. How is the baby?”

“Hungry all the time. He hardly leaves me any free time.”

“A hungry baby is a healthy baby. When will he be circumcised?”

“Tomorrow. We will be able to leave for Nazareth two days after. Uh, I’m afraid that the village elders are not ready to let you watch the ceremony because you are a non-Jew. I am truly sorry for that, but even I can’t attend: it’s a men-only ceremony.” Nauca shrugged, apparently unconcerned.

“Men! Always ready to believe in their superiority over women.”

“Nauca, what will you do once we are in Nazareth?”

“I will resume my trip towards Jerusalem and visit the great temple there.”

“And then?”

“I don’t know yet. I might stay there or I might keep moving on. It will depend on what kind of welcome I get in Jerusalem.”

Miriam suddenly looked concerned.

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“Nauca, you should know that women traveling alone are normally not thought well of there…or here. Be careful about how you will be perceived.”

“Miriam, I am a warrior and a musician, not a prostitute, and I will not give anybody any excuse to call me that way.”

“Still, be careful.”

“I will. I promise you. Now, can I hold your baby a bit?”

“Of course! He has finished sucking milk now.”

Miriam gently handed the baby to Nauca, who tenderly cradled him in her arms and kissed his forehead. Her apparent joy made Miriam remark on it.

“You look so happy with a baby in your arms. Maybe you should marry and start a family.”

Nauca sighed softly.

“If and when I get the time.”

07:22 (Jerusalem Time)

Sunday, October 27, 2 C.E.

(4th day of Cheshvan, year 3763 of the Hebrew calendar) Bethlehem, Galilee

Nauca effortlessly picked up five-year-old Josua and sat him across her horse’s back, just forward of the saddle. Miriam was already in the large saddle, with little Yeshua in a basket held in her lap, while seven-year-old Yaaqov sat behind the saddle, holding on to Miriam by her waist. Yosef, bearing his meager collection of tools on his back, was waiting a few paces in front of the horse. Nauca, in Sarmatian attire and with all her weapons on her, grabbed the bridle and spoke to her horse in Sarmatian.

“Forward, Pegasus!”

Yosef and his family exchanged last goodbyes with their neighbors and friends, then got on their way, with Nauca in the lead and still holding her horse’s bridle. Heading East, they adopted a slow but steady pace, with the two young boys squealing in pleasure at first as they experienced a horse ride for the first time. The temperature was just right, with a small breeze which helped cool the effect of the rising Sun.

The trip was to be a relatively short one, Nazareth being only eleven kilometers in a straight line from Bethlehem. There were however no roads or trails in the area and

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the hilly countryside made the trip a four-hour affair over rough, rocky ground. Yosef was secretly relieved to have the armed Sarmatian with his family: thieves were not rare in the hills of Galilee, waiting for the lone or defenseless traveler or, even better, a merchant laden with goods. They fortunately didn’t meet any band of thieves. What they met instead had the potential to be much worse. Three kilometers short of Nazareth, in a small, narrow valley, they came face to face with a Roman mounted patrol of nine soldiers heading North, probably towards the garrison town of Sepphoris. Yosef tensed up immediately at their sight: Roman soldiers did pretty much as they pleased in what was for them conquered territory. Some were relatively decent and honest, while others rarely missed a chance to supplement their meager pay. Roman soldiers actually had the authority to requisition goods or the services of passing Jews as they saw fit. Those foolish enough to protest often ended up with a good beating or worst. The decurion leading the eight mounted legionnaires concentrated his attention on Nauca and her weapons as he approached at a trot, his men behind him.

Nancy Laplante feverishly reviewed her options as the Romans approached. Having been a Roman centurion herself in a previous incarnation, she was well aware of the ways of the Roman Army and knew that the Pax Romana benefited only the Romans. She however could not afford to kill or wound seriously any of these soldiers, even though she could probably do just that easily. Attacking or resisting Roman soldiers here and now would bring big trouble to Yosef and Miriam, something that would turn her mission, and history, into a mess. Furthermore, those soldiers had or were going to have families, who would in turn have descendants who would multiply along the centuries. The untimely death of any of those Romans could upset the genealogic tree, with unforeseeable consequences. For Nancy, this was one case where she would have to be ready to die without a real fight if that was what it took to ensure the safety of Yosef, Miriam and their children. They were now at the mercy of the decurion now approaching them.

The Roman stopped his horse close enough from Nauca to be able to touch her. Looking quickly at Miriam and the children on the horse, then at Yosef, he returned his attention to Nauca and spoke in Koine, a sort of pidgin-Greek which was the Lingua Franca of the Roman Empire.

“Who are you? What are you doing with all these weapons?”

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Keeping a friendly attitude, Nauca bowed her head once and replied, also using Koine.

“My name is Nauca and I come from Ephesus, where I was employed as a mercenary by the local governor. I was on my way to Jerusalem when I met this family. The mother has just given birth and I offered her the use of my horse until she can be in Nazareth.”

“A woman mercenary?” said the decurion in a disbelieving tone. One of his men cut in with what he thought of as a joke.

“Maybe she’s one of those fabled Greek Amazons, Decurion.” The soldier’s remark made his leader stare hard at Nauca.

“An Amazon? I thought that they came from the plains North of the Regnum

Bospori8. Are you Greek, woman?”

“No, I am a Sarmatian.”

The decurion reacted as if receiving an electric discharge.

“A Sarmatian? Then, you are an Amazon, by Jupiter!”

The decurion grinned as his men looked at each other in surprise.

“Centurion Markus must be told about this. So, what is an Amazon doing in a hole like Galilee? Hunting for men?”

Nauca kept a straight face as the Romans burst out in laughter, answering calmly the decurion when he stopped laughing.

“We have enough true men in Sarmatia, Roman. The truth is that I met a group of Jewish merchants while in Ephesus. They taught me their religion and I decided to travel to the temple of Jerusalem. I am on a spiritual quest.” The decurion nearly fell off his horse from laughing on hearing this, while his men were bent over and holding their sides.

“A…a Jewish Amazon. That’s rich! Go your way and may you find your god, woman.”

Still laughing, the Romans then left. Yosef, who did not speak Koine, looked with utter confusion at Nauca.

“By God, what did you say to make them laugh so hard?”

“I simply told them who I am and that I was on my way to the temple of Jerusalem. They found the notion of me being a Jew quite funny.”

 

8 Regnum Bospori: Roman name for the Crimean Peninsula, on the North shore of the Black Sea.

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“Well, you are an oddity around here, Nauca.” said Miriam, smiling from the top of the horse. Nauca shook her head, still trying to slow down her heartbeat after this close call.

“If it can amuse the Romans and let us avoid trouble, then I don’t mind.”

They reached Nazareth safely an hour later and were greeted there by a rather lukewarm crowd of curious villagers. While Nauca drew much curiosity, mixed with a good dose of suspicion tainted with xenophobia, Miriam and Yosef got what amounted to a polite welcome at best, except from Miriam’s parents. The old couple insisted on holding little Yeshua and covering him with kisses while Nauca helped Miriam and the two boys down from her horse. Nauca slowly looked around her, letting the cameras in her headband film the villagers and the houses of Nazareth. Miriam’s father soon came to her, bowing politely to her.

“I thank you for providing a ride to my daughter, stranger. You are welcomed to the hospitality of my house.”

“I am honored, old man, but I would like to resume my trip to Jerusalem as soon as possible. I will help your daughter get her things inside her house, then I will leave.”

“As you wish, woman.”

Yoackim then left her and returned to Miriam and her baby. It took only a few minutes for Nauca to unload Miriam’s things and bring them to the small, two-room house that would be her family’s home. While standing inside, she mentally ordered the miniature computer implanted in her head to register the spatial coordinates of the house, so that she could easily jump spacetime to it if need be in the future. She hugged Miriam, Yosef and their children one last time, with Miriam giving her a hopeful smile.

“You will visit us again, will you?”

“Maybe, but it could take a while. May God bring lots of happiness to you and your family. Shelama, Miriam.”

“Shelama, Nauca.”

Getting on her horse, Nancy had a last look at the baby in Miriam’s arms, then spurred her mount to a gallop, leaving Nazareth in a cloud of dust. She had over 140 kilometers to cover on the rocky and dusty trail passing for a road here before getting to Jericho and then Jerusalem.

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15:41 (Jerusalem Time)

Tuesday, October 29, 2 C.E.

(6th day of Cheshvan, year 3763 of the Hebrew calendar) Outskirts of Jericho, east of Jerusalem

Kingdom of Judea and Samaria

Nancy stood immobile for a long moment on her horse, looking at the small village of Jericho ahead of her. Powerful emotions were running through her right now: Jericho had been twice her place of birth in history. The first time had been over 7,000 years ago, when her newly created spirit had inhabited for the first time a human fetus, that of a girl to be named Nataï. The second time had been thirteen years before the time she was actually in. Right now, a teenage girl named Magdala was living in Jericho and would marry a shoemaker in two years. Nancy could sense vaguely the mind of Magdala in the distance and see what she saw, if she concentrated on it. If Nancy got much closer to Jericho, Magdala would probably be able to sense her too. Jericho was on the road to Jerusalem, if one could call the trail passing through it a road, so Nancy would have to go through it, probably more than once during her mission. First, though, she had a place to visit. Spurring her mount, Nancy guided it to a vast mound of sand and dust just to the North of the village and close to the source that was the main water point for the people of Jericho. Her robotic horse easily went up the steep slope of the mound, helped by its anti-gravity field set on low power. Nancy finally stopped her horse at a precise spot on the mound and dismounted. Kneeling in the sand, she bowed low and touched the dirt with her forehead. She was now on top of what was left of her first house ever on Earth. After a good minute bent over, she straightened up and looked towards the cloud-covered sky.

“Thank you for all my lives, Great One. I will serve you till death.” Something she was hoping for but didn’t expect then happened: a voice boomed inside her head.

“YOU WILL BE ABLE TO SERVE ME EVEN AFTER YOUR DEATH, NATAÏ. THIS WILL BE YOUR LAST INCARNATION. AFTER THAT, YOU WILL BE PURE SPIRIT, LIKE ABRAM AND OTHERS.”

Nancy was deeply moved at the mention of her ancient husband, better known in the Old Testament as ‘Abraham’, who was now what most people would call an angel.

“I understand, Great One. Do you have instructions for me?”

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“KEEP PROMOTING MY WORDS AND MAKE THIS WORLD A BETTER PLACE. KNOW THAT PEOPLE FROM THE FUTURE WERE AT WORK

CONCERNING YESHUA. THEY WILL NOT COME BACK: I DEALT WITH THEM.” A stream of images then flooded her mind for an instant. When it ended, Nancy knew everything she had to know about the origins of Yeshua and what had made possible his birth. That knowledge made her both angry and overwhelmed. Angry because history had again been manipulated by people who had ignored common sense, even though they had been well intentioned. Overwhelmed because of her involuntary but crucial role in this. However, she couldn’t change one thing about it: a time causality loop of monstrous proportion was at work here.

“What shall I do about Yeshua, Great One?”

“NOTHING! HIS FATE IS ALREADY WRITTEN. GO IN PEACE, NATAÏ.” Her mind still echoing with the mighty voice of The One, Nancy stayed on her knees and meditated. She opened her eyes a long time afterwards, with her mind at ease and focused on what lay ahead. Getting back on her feet, she jumped in the saddle and guided Pegasus towards Jericho, intent on taking the trail towards Jerusalem. She was halfway through the village when what felt like a hallucination struck her. An image of herself riding her horse through Jericho was in her mind. Looking to her left, she saw a teenage girl dressed in a rough tunic who stood in a doorway, staring at her. Activating her headband cameras, Nancy filmed her, realizing that the young Jewish girl was Magdala, her incarnation in this time period. She then urged Pegasus to a gallop and put quickly some distance between her and the girl: they were not meant to meet.

Pushing her mount at a constant speed that would have killed a real horse, Nancy arrived near Jerusalem one hour later. Slowing down her horse to a trot in order not to attract too much attention, she looked around at the scenery, filming as she went. The Mount of Olives dominated her to her right, with Mount Scopus behind it. To her left lay the Hill of Bad Counsel, while the Valley of Kidron cut across her path ahead. Beyond the Valley of Kidron lay the city of Jerusalem, totally unlike what she was accustomed to in 2012. Surrounded by defensive walls, the city was dominated by the formidable mass of the Temple of Herod the Great in its northeast corner. The palace of King Herod, now occupied by his son Archelaus, was visible in the west end of Jerusalem, in the Upper City. Much less prominent than the two previous buildings but nonetheless the real center of power in Jerusalem, the Antonia fortress sat on the

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northern edge of the city, adjacent to the Temple. Nancy was much more wary of the Roman soldiers occupying that fortress than of the Jewish authorities of Jerusalem: Roman rule was both ruthless and selfish and Roman soldiers did pretty well as they pleased here. Her cover as a part-time traveling musician would undoubtedly put her in contact with some Romans in Jerusalem, probably high-placed ones too. Those Romans could in turn ask or expect services that Nancy was not prepared to provide to them. How they would react to her refusals was still an unknown to Nancy. Before she could establish her cover occupation, though, she needed to buy a vacant house. That was not going to be easy in such a crowded city.

Scanning visually the hills around her, Nancy saw only a few dozen dispersed huts and modest houses, all apparently occupied. Resigning herself to a long search, Nancy guided her horse towards the Essene Gate, on the southern edge of Jerusalem. The travelers, merchants and pilgrims going to or coming from Jerusalem and lining the trail she was on all stared at her as she passed them, with many exchanging whispered comments between themselves. That did not surprise Nancy, as she was the only woman in sight traveling without a male companion. Her weapons were also

undoubtedly attracting much attention. Ignoring the stares and the comments, she made her way along the southern walls of the city, finally stopping besides two Jewish soldiers guarding the Essene Gate, which led into the Essene Quarter and the Upper City. The two men, who were each lightly equipped with a bronze conical helmet, a short sword and a javelin, examined her with obvious curiosity as Nancy spoke to the nearest guard.

“Could you tell me where I could find a respectable inn in the upper city, good man?”

The soldier smiled to her while scratching his beard.

“Well, respectable and inn are normally two words which don’t go together, but an acceptable place would be the inn of Iram the Syrian, near the palace of the Asmoneans. Enter the upper city, then follow the main street North until close to the Jaffa Gate. You will then see the palace of the Asmoneans to your right and Iram’s inn to your left.”

Searching into her belt purse for a moment, Nancy threw a large copper coin to the guard, who quickly caught it.

“Thanks for the information. Shelama!”

“Shelama, woman!”

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Going through the large gate, Nancy followed the so-called main street, roughly paved and less than four meter-wide. She had to go slowly; the street being crowded with pedestrians and street vendors peddling their wares. Most of the houses and buildings lining the street were two or three story-high at the most and were made of either roughly cut stones or of clay bricks. While keeping an eye for potential trouble, like drunken soldiers looking for women, or chamber pots being carelessly emptied from an upper story window, Nancy carefully filmed the scenery around her with the cameras hidden in her headband. Jan Bella was going to be ecstatic about those recordings of life in an ancient city. If Iram’s inn was anything like she expected it to be, then the chief historian of the Time Patrol was going to get some eye-opening footage.

She found the inn easily enough, as it bordered a wide square with an old palace to its right and a city gate across the open space. The inn was in the form of an empty rectangle, with a large gate that gave access to the central courtyard. That courtyard also served as a stable, with pitched roofs covering a series of open stalls and piles of hay. Stopping her mount in front of the open gate, Nancy jumped out of the saddle and led her horse inside by the bridle. A scruffy young man in a dirty tunic ran to her at once and bowed respectfully.

“Is the lady looking for a place in this modest inn?”

“I am! Do you have a private room left vacant?”

“Let me ask my master, lady.”

The young man ran inside, returning less than a minute later with a small bearded man with a thick waistline. The bearded man was much older, maybe in his early forties, and had a jovial face. His eyes were lively, looking around constantly and taking note of everything before he bowed to Nancy.

“Shelama, lady! I am Iram, owner of this inn. I am pleased to tell you that I still have private rooms left. How long are you planning to stay?”

“I am not sure yet, probably a few days at a minimum: I am looking to find and buy a house in Jerusalem, if there are any available.”

Iram played with his beard with one hand while thinking.

“Hmm, that may not be easy to find: Jerusalem is quite crowded these days and any available housing is quickly grabbed. Your search may take weeks.”

“It will take the time it will take. Do you mind if I inspect your inn before making my mind about staying?”

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“Not at all.” replied Iram while bowing again. “You will find my inn to be clean and well kept. Follow me, please.”

Leaving her horse in the care of the stable boy, Nancy followed Iram inside the main hall of the inn, a large room with a ceiling low enough to make Nancy cautious about where she went. A dozen rough wooden tables with benches filled the room, which was occupied at the time by nine customers, a female servant and what Nancy pegged as a very young prostitute. They all stared at once at the tall, weapons-laden newcomer. Ignoring the stares, Nancy went up a creaky staircase behind Iram in order to inspect her room. What she saw would have both scandalized and horrified a typical tourist from the 34th century if he had found a hotel room like this one in a resort of the Global Council. For a seasoned traveler of the first century, the room was actually more than acceptable. While small, it was swept clean of dirt and dust and was furnished with a straw mattress on a wooden bed frame, a stool, a chamber pot and a small table supporting a clay washbasin and a water jar. The straw mattress was probably full of vermin but that was going to be a minor annoyance for her: she had insecticide products in her bag. Nancy nodded in satisfaction and smiled to Iram.

“This looks very adequate. How much per night?”

“A half shekel per night, meals not included. May I ask what kind of money you have with you, Lady?”

“I have Greek drachmas and Roman sesterces and denarii. I will take this room and pay you one week in advance. Here are twenty drachmas: that should cover for the care of my horse too. I will now get my things and bring them up.” The innkeeper made an embarrassed smile as Nancy got ready to leave the room.

“Pardon me for being impolite, lady, but may I ask what is your occupation? The people of this city are very prudish and may complain to the authorities if they suspect you of being a woman of small virtue. You are after all traveling alone, which is most unusual for a woman around here. Don’t get me wrong, though. I have an open mind.” Nancy slowly faced Iram, her expression neutral.

“First, you may call me Nauca. I am a Sarmatian warrior. I spent years in Ephesus, were I educated myself. I came to Jerusalem to see for myself if the religion of the Jews is worth embracing. As for how I pay for my traveling, know that I play a few instruments well and can sing. I do not sell my body around, however.” Iram repressed a frown with difficulty: female musicians and entertainers were widely regarded by Jews as being little more than prostitutes, even though they were in high

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demand with Romans and with the Jews who had adopted Greek customs and way of life. The public tongues would be going at it quickly with this woman. Iram was however in need of customers, especially ones who paid in coins, like her, instead of through barter. He decided to make the best of the situation and bowed to the tall woman.

“Point taken, Nauca of Sarmatia. May I give you a word of caution for your time in this city?”

“A person forewarned is worth two persons. Speak!”

“Be careful about the local authorities, especially the soldiers of Archelaus, the local ruler. Archelaus, who has been in power for six years now, is squeezing the people dry with taxes and levies raised on a whim. He, along with his soldiers, does about everything he wants, even if it violates the religious laws. Even the Romans are starting to find his rule excessive.”

“Now, that is worth noting. The Romans are masters at bleeding dry occupied lands for their profit. That Archelaus must be one mighty tyrant.”

“He is! He also isn’t above grabbing pretty women in the streets, to be used in his palace. If I were you, I would go around wearing a veil.”

“A judicious counsel, Iram. I will heed it. If you will now excuse me, I will bring my things to this room.”

“I will have Ephraim help you.” replied the innkeeper. Both of them then went down to the main hall, then out to Nauca’s horse, which was being given some hay by the stable boy.

“Ephraim! Help the woman bring her things up to her room.” The stable boy nodded his head and untied the saddlebags and other bags thrown over the horse’s back. Nauca, despite his protests, took everything except her bedroll and her saddle and, apparently without effort, carried them inside. Ephraim, sweating under the weight of Nauca’s wood and leather saddle, followed her upstairs, putting down his load at the foot of her bed with a sigh of relief. He left after catching a silver drachma thrown by Nauca, who then quickly organized her things. By then, Nancy was quite hungry and, looking through the window of her room, saw from the position of the Sun that it was suppertime.

Still wearing her Sarmatian clothes and her weapons, she went down to the main hall of the inn and sat at an empty table in a corner from where she could watch the main entrance. There were still eight customers in the room, along with the teenage

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prostitute and the servant. She signaled the servant to approach and gave her a friendly smile.

“What do you have available for supper?”

“Lentil soup and bread, lady. Would that be satisfactory?”

“It will do. Bring a cup of wine as well, please.”

The woman bowed and turned around, disappearing in the kitchen of the inn. Nancy then examined discreetly the other persons in the hall, who were themselves eyeing her discreetly. There was a middle-aged couple sitting at a table and eating with their two teenage sons. At a table near the entrance sat three men speaking animatedly in Phoenician between themselves. From their conversations, Nancy understood them to be merchants from the city of Tyre on a commercial trip to Jerusalem. The last customer was probably Greek and was quietly drinking wine at a corner table to the right of Nancy. The young prostitute, a gaunt-looking girl of about twelve years old, sat on the floor of the hall, her back against the corner near the Greek man. As the servant came back with Nancy’s food and wine, the Jewish family of four got up and left for their room. As soon as they were out of sight, the Greek made a discreet sign to the prostitute, who smiled and got up to sit beside the man, who promptly passed an arm around her shoulders and started fondling her left breast. While the three Phoenicians paid no notice to this, the servant gave a black look at the young girl before disappearing again inside the kitchen. Nancy frowned at the scene: the young prostitute, who was probably an orphan reduced to selling herself in order to survive, would be in for a lot of trouble if someone complained about her. Returning her mind to her food, Nancy tasted cautiously the lentil soup and was agreeably surprised: it was as good as any lentil soup she had tasted in Lebanon in the 21st Century. The Greek man and the teenage prostitute soon got up and went upstairs, leaving Nancy alone with the Phoenicians and the servant. The girl was back down in the hall twenty minutes later, alone. She opened wide her eyes in surprise when Nancy signaled her to come to her table, but approached anyway, eyeing cautiously the sword, dagger and axe worn by Nancy.

“Come here and sit down, girl.” said Nancy in a polite but firm tone. The teenager sat opposite her, still wondering what Nancy could want with her.

“Do you need my services, lady?” she asked timidly, making Nancy smile.

“No! I’m Nauca. What is your name?”

“Tabitha! Why?”

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“Because I am curious about why such a young girl would risk prostituting herself in Jerusalem. Where is your family?”

The girl’s face turned somber at that question.

“My parents died six months ago and nobody was left to care for me. I quickly grew hungry and did the only thing that could feed me. Why would you care?”

“I care about everybody, Tabitha. Did you try finding a job as a servant, or something else than prostitution? You are risking stoning, you know?”

“I know, but nobody wanted to hire me except to use my body: I am a Samaritan and had nobody to vouch for me.”

Nancy was silent for a moment. The Jews of Judea and Galilee despised Samaritans, whom they considered of impure blood and unworthy of being Jews.

“Why didn’t you return to Samaria? You must have some relatives left there who could help you?”

The girl shook her head slowly while staring down at Nancy’s food.

“I have no relatives left there: they all died in an epidemic. My parents came to Jerusalem because of that epidemic but died shortly afterwards. Can I go now?”

“Not yet! Are you hungry?”

“Yes!”

Nancy then waved to the servant, who came to her table while studiously ignoring the teenager.

“Waitress, bring a bowl of soup and a loaf of bread for this girl. I am paying.” The servant looked at Nancy with an incredulous expression.

“You are paying a meal for her?”

“Yes, I am! And bring a full loaf of bread.”

The servant shook her head in disbelief as she returned inside the kitchen, leaving Nancy to examine Tabitha. She would have been more than pretty if not for her emaciated face. Her worn tunic and headscarf had not been washed in a long time and the few strands of black curly hair showing from under the scarf were in need of serious grooming. Breaking a piece of her bread, Nancy gave it to Tabitha, who grabbed it quickly and bit hungrily in it. The servant came back soon afterwards and put a bowl of soup and a big loaf of bread on the table, in front of the teenager, then left without a word. The girl ate the soup with gusto, biting from time to time in her bread. Her obvious hunger broke Nancy’s heart: no child should ever go through so much misery. The fact that Tabitha’s fate was a common one in these times as well as in most times

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was truly saddening. Nancy started conversing with the girl, trying to see if there was a way she could lift her out of her hopeless existence. She soon realized that she could do very little indeed for the girl without blowing her cover up and bringing her back with her to the future. That brought another dilemma for Nancy: where did one stop and let destiny, however grim, run its course? She knew the answer too well: playing with history, even in minor ways, could have unpredictable effects, thus she would have to listen to her mind instead of to her heart. Feeding the girl and maybe giving her some money to keep her from chasing male customers was about all she could do for her. When the girl finished her soup, Nancy took a handful of silver coins from her belt purse and gave them to Tabitha.

“Tabitha, take this money. In exchange, I want you to stop chasing men and to keep looking for a decent job, like laundress or cooking assistant.” The teenager stared up at her with her big brown eyes, unable to believe her luck.

“I never met a warrior who cared for others before you. Why do you do all this for me, a complete stranger? You are not even a Jew.”

Nancy smiled meekly, thinking back about the last, hectic years of her life.

“Because I am a warrior who cares. Besides, one doesn’t need to be a Jew to show kindness and compassion. Keep out of trouble and keep me informed of your progress. Shelama and good night, Tabitha.”

“Shelama, Nauca…and thank you!”

Nancy felt better with life as she watched the girl leave, her loaf of bread tightly held in her hands. Getting up herself, she then climbed the wooden staircase leading to the upper floor rooms. Pushing the locking bolt of her room’s door in place, she shed her dusty clothes and poured some water in the clay washbasin sitting on the table. After a thorough sponge bath, she laid flat her bedroll in the corner farthest from the bed: she had no desire to wake up with vermin crawling on her. For good measure she poured some insecticide powder over and around the straw mattress before laying down on her bedroll. The night was going to be fresh enough for the average Israelite to use a blanket but, for a Canadian like her, the temperature was just perfect. She thus spent her first night in ancient Jerusalem naked on top of her bedroll, dreaming about a baby boy who was going to change the World.

Nancy woke up shortly after dawn but stayed down on her bedroll for a few minutes while thinking about the day ahead. Finally getting up, she used the covered

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wood bucket which served as a chamber pot, then put on a white cotton loincloth. A white, pleated peplos, a Greek long dress made of a rectangular piece of tissue, was on next. Sitting on the stool, Nancy laced on a pair of leather sandals and buckled on a brown leather belt that supported a long dagger and a belt purse. Next, she checked out her leather head band before putting it around her head: the memory crystal hidden inside it still had enough data space for over twenty hours of video and sound recording. Draping on a hooded cape made of blue linen which covered her head, she then hid under the straw mattress her sword, axe, bow and arrows before leaving her room. She barely beat the three Phoenician merchants to the main hall for breakfast, where she ordered and ate some salted fish and bread washed down with water. Nancy then left the inn, starting her search for a house to buy.

Going first to the upper city market, situated near the palace of Herod, she walked around the vending stalls, asking both passersby and vendors if they knew about any house available for sale in Jerusalem. At first, she drew blank looks from most people, while others were openly suspicious of a woman walking around alone and asking questions to anybody. Having no luck at the market, Nancy moved on to one of the narrow streets connecting with the market place. If anything, the persons there were even less helpful, with many refusing to speak to a female stranger. Mentally swearing about the scourge of xenophobia, Nancy went to the next street to continue her search.

The Sun was high when Nancy returned to her inn, tired and discouraged. She must have explored over half of the city in detail, with no results to show for except lots of stares. Stepping inside the inn’s main hall, she stopped cold at the sight of turned over tables and benches. Iram, Ephraim and the servant were busy cleaning up the mess and looked up at her as she surveyed the scene.

“What happened here?”

Iram came to her, a grim look on his face.

“That girl you tried to help yesterday: a mob chased her all the way to here, where she was trying to find you for protection. They took her out of the city, towards the quarry just outside of the Jaffa Gate.”

“When did that happen?” asked Nancy urgently, feeling sudden dread.

“You just missed them. Now, about…”

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Nancy didn’t listen to him, instead running out of the inn and across the plaza, towards the Jaffa Gate. A steady stream of people was already crossing the gate, all of them heading out of the city. That was a bad sign for Nancy, who accelerated to a dead run. Shouting to warn people out of her path, she still had to slow down and do a lot of pushing and elbowing to make her way through the city gate, oblivious of the protests from the men she had pushed away. She found a large crowd standing on the edge of the quarry just outside the walls, looking down into the wide pit. Many were shouting, shaking their fists or throwing rocks down the pit. Nearly blinded by fury and grief, Nancy elbowed her way through the crowd. The persons standing nearest to the pit were nearly all young men with the fanatical look of religious zealots.

“DEATH TO ALL SINNERS!” shouted one of the young zealots before throwing a rock down the pit. Looking down, Nancy saw a small shape lying at the bottom of the quarry, thirty feet below, unmoving.

“NOOO!” shouted Nancy, recognizing little Tabitha. She then jumped off the edge, to the amazement of all present. She used her power of levitation just enough to slow herself down and avoid breaking both legs on landing. The crowd above her grew silent as she hurried to the inert, bloody body of the teenage girl. Kneeling besides Tabitha, Nancy choked off her tears as she examined her. The girl was already dead; the left side of her head caved in and a number of bloody bruises all over her body. Caressing her blood-mated hair, Nancy bent over her and wept. A stone suddenly hit the ground near her, followed soon by another one. Looking up angrily, she saw that some of the zealots were now intent on stoning her as well. Getting back on her feet, she pointed an accusing finger at the crowd above.

“MURDERERS! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT COWARDLY MURDERERS! MAY GOD’S WRATH BE ON YOU!”

She then ran up the slope leading out of the quarry. The zealots, who thought at first that she was running away, ran along the banks of the quarry towards her but braked to a halt when she ran towards them after exiting the quarry’s pit. Nancy stopped ten meters from the crowd, her eyes fiery with indignation.

“YOU SELF-RIGHTEOUS BASTARDS MURDERED A CHILD!”

“WE KILLED A PROSTITUTE AND A SINNER ACCORDING TO THE LAWS OF GOD.” replied hotly one of the zealots. Nancy shook her head and pointed him.

“WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE IN THE PLACE OF GOD? THAT CHILD WAS AN ORPHAN WHO WAS STARVING SLOWLY TO DEATH IN THE STREETS. DID ANY

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OF YOU EVEN TRY TO HELP HER, TO GIVE HER A DECENT ALTERNATIVE? NO! YOU ARE TOO BUSY FINDING FAULTS IN OTHERS WHILE IGNORING THE COLDNESS OF YOUR OWN HEARTS.”

“DON’T YOU SEE THAT SHE IS A SINNER HERSELF?” shouted the zealot to the others. “I SAY THAT WE STONE HER AS WELL.”

The young man then bent down and picked up a fist-sized stone. He was about to throw it at Nancy when he screamed in pain and let go the stone while holding his right hand.

“The stone…it burned my hand.”

Another man picked up a stone but also had to let it go with a scream of pain. An older man looked with awe at Nancy, who was standing her ground.

“GOD IS WITH HER! LEAVE HER ALONE!”

The now subdued crowd slowly retreated inside the city, leaving Nancy alone near the edge of the quarry. Breathing deeply to calm down, Nancy then turned around and returned inside the quarry, where she delicately took Tabitha’s body in her arms. Walking out of the pit, she headed North, walking until she found a small cave by the side of a hill. Gently laying the girl’s body inside, she piled rocks over it to make sure that predators would not get at it, then made a silent prayer aimed at The One. A soft voice resonating inside her head then answered her.

‘’I will find a good incarnation for her soul, Nancy. I thank you for showing your compassion and caring like you just did. Continue on your present path.’’ Despite the praise from The One, Nancy felt hollow as she left the cave and looked at Jerusalem, a good kilometer away. In thirty years, she was going to have to let die someone she had helped bring into the World.

Iram came to Nancy the moment she entered the inn. The Syrian’s expression was much milder now compared to when he had informed her of Tabitha’s capture.

“I’m sorry about your young friend, truly. I was told about what happened at the quarry.”

He watched Nancy slowly sit down at a table, clearly still despondent and with her eyes gazing at nothing in particular.

“Would you like some wine, Nauca?”

“Please.” said Nancy softly. Iram hurried inside the kitchen and brought back a clay pitcher full of red wine and two cups, putting them on the table and sitting opposite Nancy. She looked at him questioningly as he poured wine in both cups.

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“Why would you want to drink with me? You thought that I was just a prostitute.”

“Not anymore, my friend. You tried to turn that girl away from prostitution, then risked your life for her like a true warrior. To your health!”

“And to Tabitha’s spirit.” replied Nancy, raising her cup and knocking it against Iram’s raised cup. Both then drank half of their wine. It was a young wine, like any wine made in ancient times, when airtight bottles didn’t exist and wine over one-year-old quickly turned to vinegar. Iram gazed at the tall, strong and beautiful woman sitting opposite him. Many Romans and Hellenic Jews living in Jerusalem would pay good money to be entertained by her and even more money to end up in bed with her. However, Iram now believed Nauca about not wanting to sell her body to others. Maybe he could work out a mutually beneficial arrangement with her.

“I heard that you had little success trying to find a house.”

“How would you know that?” she asked, suspicious.

“An innkeeper like me has ears. The people of Jerusalem are a conservative lot: they don’t tend to talk to unaccompanied female strangers. Maybe Ephraim could go around town in your place to ask about a house. What kind of house did you have in mind?”

Nancy thought for a moment about how wise it was to involve Iram in her affairs. She finally decided that he could actually save her a lot of time and effort at little cost to herself.

“A simple one, indeed. I just need a small place with two or three rooms, plus a space that I could use as a stable for my horse. As far as prices go, I have enough money with me for that to be of little concern. I saved quite a lot while in Ephesus.”

“Then finding something shouldn’t be a problem. Now, you told me yesterday that you were a musician, but you have yet to show up with an instrument. You won’t attract customers for yourself if you don’t sing.”

Iram’s argument finally brought a meek smile on Nancy’s face. She nodded her head and got up.

“You’re right, Iram. Watch my cup while I go get my instruments.” Going upstairs for a minute, she came back with her lute, lyre and flute and took place near the windows giving a view on the plaza. She grabbed her lute first, passing its carrying sling around her neck and testing the strings with her fingertips. After a moment of indecision, she chose to play a modern ballad she had adapted to Aramaic in the week before leaving for her mission. The lute, an ancestor of the guitar, was an

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instrument she had quickly mastered with the help of her past life experiences as a dancer and musician. Her melodious voice and music soon attracted a growing number of passersby, most of them men, who either looked through the windows or simply entered and sat at the tables. Iram, who was hoping for just that, quickly got his servant to go around and take orders from the men listening and watching Nancy. The next song from Nancy was a classic Hebrew song already a few centuries old which was well received by the audience. Switching to her lyre, she played a Celtic tune, singing in Gaelic. While the spectators didn’t understand the lyrics, most of them appreciated her singing, drinking wine while listening and making Iram happy in the process. Nancy was also enjoying herself by now, immersed in her music. Switching back to the lute, she started dancing and singing around the tables while being careful not to appear to tease the men in the room. Sexy dancing was best saved for a less conservative audience, especially today.

She took a break one hour later and was served some wine by Iram himself, who smiled to her while waving at the room now nearly full of customers.

“You are good for business, Nauca. We should become partners.”

“Thanks for the thought, Iram, but you would not find me a very reliable partner. I will be traveling around a lot once I am established here and will sometimes be gone for weeks.”

“Then, I will be more than happy to host you when you are in Jerusalem. You are really good at this, Nauca. You should be able to make a good living here.” Iram then left her to go serve some customers. Nancy rested for another five minutes, then grabbed her lute and got up, ready to resume her act. She was about to start playing when three clean-shaven men in red tunics entered the hall, bringing a chill to the audience. Nancy immediately guessed them to be Roman soldiers on their off time. Trying to distract the audience’s attention away from the Romans, Nancy started playing and singing while walking around the hall. While the locals present cheered her on, the Romans kept quiet at first, only half-listening to her singing in Aramaic while concentrating on admiring her body. Nancy soon switched to Latin and sang a Roman Army march song which would have reddened the cheeks of a prostitute. Showing surprise at first, the three Romans then roared in approval, laughing at the spicier lyrics of the song. They quickly ordered a pitcher of wine and kept listening to Nancy while drinking cup after cup. The song in Latin was followed by one in Koine, which half of the

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audience seemed able to understand. Nancy sat next and grabbed her flute, playing a few tunes originating from various centuries. She then announced a break for supper, drawing a few howls of disappointment around the room. Nancy barely had time to go back to her usual table in the corner facing the entrance when the three Romans came and sat opposite her. She gave them a cautious smile which the bigger Roman, a tough-looking man with a crooked nose, returned.

“I’m Sartorius and my friends are Flavius and Decimus. You sing very well. What is your name?”

“Nauca. Thank you for the compliment. What may I do for you?”

“First, could I ask you where you learned that marching song? Did you stay in a Roman camp before?”

“I did stop in Roman camps a few times to entertain soldiers. Don’t get the wrong idea, though: I only sing and play music. I do not sell my body to others.” While the companions of Sartorius showed some disappointment at those words, he himself kept a straight face, simply nodding his head in acknowledgement. He couldn’t help looking down in Nancy’s cleavage, which showed parts of her large, firm breasts.

“A true shame. You would tempt the emperor himself. You are not from Judea, I believe.”

“No! While I just arrived from Ephesus, I actually am a Sarmatian.” Sartorius raised an eyebrow in interest at those last words.

“A Sarmatian? You are one of those riders from the wide northern plains past the Regnum Bospori?”

“I am. What about it?”

“Nothing! I was just curious. Are you going to stay for a while in Jerusalem?”

“I actually am looking for a house to buy.”

The three Romans were obviously pleased by her answer.

“Then we will be able to listen to you again. Would you be interested in coming to play and sing for our comrades at the Antonia fortress. You could make good money there.”

“As I said before, I do not sell my body. Your comrades will have to accept that fact before I go there.”

“If I could get the word from our centurion that nobody will touch you, would you come?”

A devilish smile appeared on Nancy’s face then.

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“Do I interest you so much, Sartorius?”

“By Jupiter, you would interest any man. Even if I can’t touch you, listening and watching you will be nice enough. We have plenty of easy women at the Antonia anyway.”

“Wives or prostitutes?”

“Prostitutes, of course! Our wives are not allowed to follow us here. Talking of prostitutes, would you have seen a young girl named Tabitha. We were hoping to meet her here.”

Nancy’s face hardened at the mention of the dead teenager, grief and anger coming back to her.

“She is dead. A mob stoned her outside the walls today. I tried to save her but I was too late.”

“Those prudish Jews and their stupid religious laws. Too bad: she was a cute girl. So, will you come to the Antonia?”

“I will need the promise from your centurion first. Then I will come.”

“Then, we have a deal.” replied happily Sartorius. “I will come back tomorrow with an answer. Ave, Nauca!”

“Ave, Sartorius!”

The three Romans then got up and left the inn, making many of the other customers sigh with relief. Iram was next to show up at Nancy’s table, bringing a pitcher of wine and a cup.

“Let me guess: they wanted to hire you.”

“You guessed right. I told them that I would only sing and dance for them but no more than that. They will be back tomorrow, supposedly with a promise from their superior that I will not be touched while at the Antonia.”

The Syrian frowned at those last words.

“The word of a Roman to a non-Roman isn’t worth much, Nauca. Be careful with them.”

“Don’t worry about me, Iram. I will go there with my weapons, just to emphasize that I am no easy girl. Now, would you have some meat available for supper? We Sarmatians are big meat eaters and I am getting tired of this Jewish diet of grains and vegetables.”

“We have some chickens, if you want.”

“Sold! Bring a whole chicken. I am starving.”

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Iram nodded his head, then smiled to her with a hint of malice.

“You know, Nauca, for a traveling musician you forgot the most important part of your act today.”

“Oh? What would that be?”

“You didn’t put forward a bowl for collecting tips from your listeners. At that rate, you will grow poor quickly. Do not worry, though: I passed the bowl for you after your singing.”

Nancy slapped both hands to her face, shaking her head in frustration as Iram put a wooden bowl full of coins in front of her: so much for playing her identity cover correctly. Iram laughed at her discomfiture as he returned to the kitchen of the inn, leaving Nancy alone to drink her wine. Sifting discreetly through the bowl of coins, she smiled with satisfaction: there was the equivalent of seven shekels, or 28 drachmas, in it. She put the coins in her belt purse, promising herself not to forget again to collect her tips next time.

She nearly jumped on her supper when Iram returned half an hour later with a grilled chicken held on top of a large piece of flat bread. From the salty taste of the meat, she guessed that the chicken had been preserved by marinating it in a spiced, salty solution. Being truly famished, she devoured her chicken to the last piece of meat, enjoying the change to her diet of the last few days. She surprised a few nearby customers when she wiped her mouth and hands with a clean piece of cloth she carried with her, instead of using part of her peplos. Using a hand towel may not have been historically accurate but she could always claim that it was a Sarmatian custom. She doubted that anybody in Jerusalem would know better. Besides, she intended to follow as much of her normal hygiene practices of modern times as possible as a measure of self-respect and to stay healthy. Warmed up by the wine she had drunk, Nancy went back at her playing and singing with gusto, making sure this time to put her wooden bowl besides her.

The night was advanced when the last customers left the main hall of the inn, their walk unsteady from the wine they had drank. Nancy’s head was none too clear either, having being offered cup after cup of wine by a number of customers. Iram came to see her, a big smile on his face, as she was ready to go upstairs to her room.

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“Nauca, you are fantastic. I easily made four times my usual business today. How did you fare yourself?”

As an answer, Nancy showed him her bowl, nearly full with coins.

“It went well. I’d hate to think of what kind of success I would have if I ever danced in a lighter attire.”

Iram gave her a warning look.

“Be careful about that, unless you want a mob of young Levite thugs to return to this inn. The priests of the Temple do not laugh with public morality. If you have to do arousing dances, do it in the homes of non-observant Jews or, even better, non-Jews. You better go get some sleep now and don’t worry about waking up early to search for a house: I will send Ephraim to look around in your place tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Iram. You are a good man.”

“And you are a beautiful oddity, Nauca. Sleep well.”

Nancy heeded his advice and went to her room, her instruments and the bowl full of coins in her hands. She then took the time for a sponge bath before lying down on her bedroll and going to sleep.

14:10 (Jerusalem Time)

Thursday, October 31, 2 C.E.

(8th day of Cheshvan, year 3763 of the Hebrew calendar) Main hall, inn of Iram the Syrian

Jerusalem

Nancy was practicing her lyre in a corner of the main hall of the inn, which had few customers at this time of the day, when Iram and Ephraim came to her, both with big smiles on their faces.

“Good news, Nauca!” said Iram loudly. “Ephraim has found something that may interest you. A house has been put up for sale near the Damascus Gate, for non-payment of debt.”

“That’s great! Let me bring my instruments upstairs and I will go see it.” Nancy was back in less than a minute, her hooded cape on. Iram instructed his wife, who normally took care of the kitchen, to keep an eye on the inn while he was gone, then followed Nancy and Ephraim out in the street. Crossing the plaza and going into the new part of the city through the Jaffa Gate, they walked along the city walls for about

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300 meters to a block of houses sitting opposite the Antonia fortress. Ephraim guided her to a house built on the hollow square pattern typical of Judean and Galilean houses. There were however two soldiers of Tetrarch Archelaus standing guard in front of the house. Iram touched Nancy’s right arm, stopping her.

“Let me do the talking, Nauca: I am familiar with how to deal with those soldiers.” Nancy didn’t protest, curious to see how Iram would proceed, and stayed a few meters away while Iram stepped close to the soldiers.

“Shelama, good men! My name is Iram and I heard that this house is for sale.”

“You are right.” replied gruffly one of the guards, looking bored to death. ‘’The previous owner didn’t pay his taxes and has been evicted, while his wife and daughters were taken in as slaves by the Tetrarch as partial payment for his debts. So, you are interested in this house?’’

“Maybe. Would it be possible to visit it first before offering a price for it?”

“I will have to get a palace scribe for that: I am not authorized to arrange such deals. The day is getting old, though. You may have to wait until tomorrow before getting a scribe.’’

Iram, who seemingly expected such an objection, flipped a silver coin into the guard’s hand.

“I would like to see one this afternoon. Tell the scribe that I have more coins for him if he shows up quickly.”

“In that case, I will go to the palace and see what I can do.” said the guard in a polite tone before leaving. As he was walking away, the other guard spoke in a low voice to Iram while pointing discreetly Nancy.

“Is this your wife?”

“I wish!” said the Innkeeper, grinning. “She is a friend.”

Not wanting to talk further with the soldier, Iram went to Nancy and Ephraim. Nancy looked glum, which prompted Iram to ask her why. She swallowed hard before answering.

“I feel like a leech, that’s why. I may be buying the house of a family that is now broken and enslaved.”

Iram stared at her, trying to understand that strange, beautiful woman. Strong and apparently tough, she was at times of a sensitivity towards others that many would find a weakness, even in a woman. It was hard to believe that she was a hardened warrior.

“Are you saying that you don’t want that house, Nauca?”

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“I do want it, Iram. Don’t get me wrong. It is just that I wish that I didn’t have to profit from the misery of others.”

“Well,” said Iram in a near whisper, “with a tyrant like Archelaus around, you will see a lot more misery around you in the weeks to come. You might as well get accustomed to it now.”

Nancy looked away, not replying to that. They were mostly silent for the next half hour, until the guard came back from the palace with a middle-aged man wearing a fine linen robe and holding a wooden box under one arm. The latter one went to Iram and bowed his head to him.

“Shelama! I am Josiah, scribe in the service of our Tetrarch. I am told that you want to buy this house.”

“Actually, my friend here is the one who wishes to buy it. I came to help as an intermediary. Would it be possible to visit the house before discussing the price?” The scribe looked for a moment at Nancy, who towered over him by a head, then nodded.

“It is a reasonable request. Please follow me.”

Going past the guards, the group entered through a large set of double doors giving access to the house’s courtyard. Josiah pointed at two doors on their right.

“Nearest the entrance, you will find a latrine sited over a deep pit. Next to it is the storeroom. To our left is the vestibule, which leads to the reception hall. At ground level, you will also find a kitchen, a bath, the two main bedrooms and a covered space that the previous owner used as a barn for his donkey. Above the main bedrooms are a loom room and three rooms for servants and children. Feel free to see for yourselves.” Nancy, followed by Iram, did just that, touring the house in a quick but thorough inspection. As she somewhat expected, the house was bare, whatever furniture it had contained having probably been seized to help pay the debt of the previous owner. The house was however in a good state of repair and had no obvious faults or problems. Nancy was about to join up with the scribe to discuss a price when she noticed what appeared to be a wide brownish spot on the pavement of the courtyard. The scribe saw what she was looking at and made a dismissive gesture with one hand.

“Do not worry about that spot: rain will wash it away soon enough. The son of the previous owner was foolish enough to try preventing the guards from doing their duty.”

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Iram, who was watching closely Nancy, thought that he saw murder for an instant in her eyes. She however spoke to Josiah in a calm, even voice.

“I am satisfied with the house. How much for it?”

“Its estimated value is 1,500 shekels.”

Nancy quickly whispered to Iram, who answered in kind. She then spoke again to Josiah.

“I am ready to give 800 shekels.”

A spirited session of bargaining followed, concluding with a final buying price of 1,200 shekels being agreed upon. Nancy surprised Josiah with her next question.

“Would you accept gems as payment?”

“Uh, I believe that it would be acceptable.”

Searching in her belt purse, Nancy took out a small leather pouch and undid the leather string closing it. She then rolled in her left hand a half dozen large rubies and emeralds and selected three of them, presenting them to Josiah.

“I believe those stones easily represent 1,200 shekels. Do we have a deal?” Josiah took the time to examine carefully the polished gems before nodding with a smile.

“These will indeed do! I will now prepare the property act.” Moving to a stone bench sitting in a corner of the courtyard, the scribe then opened his wooden box, revealing a writing set. Grabbing a piece of papyrus, a pen and an ink bottle, he started scratching down words in Hebrew.

“May I have your name and that of your parents, plus your place of birth?”

“I am Nauca, daughter of Kurgan and of Zenia. I was born in the territory of the Roxolani tribe of Sarmatia.”

The scribe, being a well-cultured man, knew about Sarmatians and gave her a cautious look as he finished writing the property act.

“You are a long way from home, Nauca.”

“Home is where I happen to be. Should I sign the act?”

“You know how to write?” asked Josiah, more than a little surprised, like Iram and Ephraim. Nancy gave him a disarming smile.

“As you may have figured by my financial means, I may be a barbarian by name but I held a position of importance in my tribe and was well educated. Do not believe everything people say about Sarmatians either: we are more than simply a bunch of roaming looters and murderers. So, where do I sign?”

“Uh, here, please.”

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Both Iram and Ephraim looked over the scribe’s shoulder while Nancy quickly signed the document in Hebrew. Josiah then applied a seal to it and handed it to Nancy.

“This house is now yours, Nauca. Congratulations!”

Nancy took out a gold denari and gave the coin to Josiah.

“Thank you for coming quickly. Shelama!”

“Shelama, Nauca of the Roxolani!”

Iram waited until Josiah was out of hearing range to speak to Nancy, who was examining the layout of the house.

“You are well educated indeed for a so-called barbarian, Nauca: You sing in at least five languages and can write. Are you sure that you are not some sort of princess?”

Nancy smiled to him and playfully pinched his cheek.

“Actually, I was one of the leaders of my tribe, but something was missing in my spirituality, so I came to experience the god of the Jews. I am now all by myself. Now, let’s go back to your inn before your customers miss me too much.”

19:04 (Jerusalem Time)

Inn of Iram the Syrian, Jerusalem

When Sartorius showed up again at the inn, it was in legionnaire’s armor and uniform and with eight Roman soldiers at his back. While Iram and his customers froze in near panic, Nancy simply stopped singing and gave him a big smile while still playing her lute.

“Did you come to lead me to a party or to escort me to a cell, Sartorius?” she asked in Latin.

“Please don’t mind the show of arms, Nauca. I was just completing a routine patrol and came here on our way back to the Antonia in order to get you. By the way, my tribune, Antonius Decius, guarantees your safety in the Antonia.”

“Your tribune? Wow! There must be quite a lot of talking about me in there if your tribune heard about me.”

The decurion grinned from ear to ear.

“How often does one see a real Amazon in Jerusalem? All our men are dying to see you. Do you need to change before going?”

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Sartorius said these last words while eyeing her Greek peplos, as if he found it still too conservative. Nancy grabbed her instruments and her coins bowl and walked by Sartorius and his men, on her way upstairs.

“I will go change in my room. I won’t be long.”

Effectively, she was back in the main hall in less than ten minutes. Sartorius smiled in approval when he saw that Nancy now wore a short pleated tunic which came down well short of her knees and put in value her long legs. The blue hooded cape she had draped over her shoulders only partially hid the bronze molded breastplate that both protected and enhanced her generous chest. While titillated by her dress, Sartorius still took good notice of the sword slung across her back and of the dagger and war axe hanging from her large leather belt. She was also wearing a leather headband inlaid with polished gems, like the first time he had seen her. In her arms were her lute, her lyre and her flute. Sartorius pointed at her headband.

“You seem to always wear this headband. Is it a mark of rank or status?”

“It marks me as a leading warrior in my tribe. Shall we go now?”

“Yes! Just follow me.”

Sandwiched between Sartorius and his men, Nancy walked with them across the plaza and through the gate connecting the upper city and the new city. Their group attracted a lot of stares, mostly hostile or fearful, from the Jews who saw them on their way to the big fortress that was the siege of power for the Romans in Jerusalem. The Roman soldiers ignored the stares, keeping wooden faces and walking in cadence with the discipline which had made them famous around the Mediterranean. While Nancy had no love for the limitless greed and the brutality of Rome’s rule, she still respected the Romans for being the tough, well-trained soldiers they were. They soon arrived at the foot of the wide steps leading up to the main arched entrance of the Antonia, a rectangular-shaped fortress with massive square towers at each corner. The four soldiers guarding the double doors saluted Sartorius as the patrol and Nancy entered the fortress, following a short tunnel before emerging into a large rectangular courtyard. It was getting quite dark by now and torches had been lit around the courtyard and along the passageways. Sartorius led Nancy and his men through a large door and into a big hall where hundreds of men were either eating, drinking or playing various games to pass the time. There were also a number of women, some very young, who were

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obviously of the easy kind, going around the groups of Romans and trying to interest some of them in exchange for a few coins. Sartorius waved one hand around the room.

“The refectorium, where our men spend their spare time. You will be free to sing and dance around but, first, I have to present you to our tribune.” First dismissing his men, Sartorius then led Nancy to the upper floor of the Southeast tower, where a male servant made them wait while he went inside a room. The servant was back quickly, bowing to Nancy and Sartorius.

“The tribune will receive you now.”

Sartorius went in first, Nancy at his back. A thin but athletic man in his late thirties and wearing a white tunic was waiting for them, sitting in a wooden armchair. He nodded once to Sartorius.

“You may go, Decurion.”

Sartorius didn’t reply, simply bowing low before leaving. Antonius Decius then

concentrated his attention on Nancy, eyeing her with cold interest. He finally spoke to her in Koine.

“So, we now have a legendary Amazon with us in Jerusalem. You certainly look the part, Nauca. Know that I served in Greece and that I have heard a lot about the Sarmatian raiders who devastate regularly the Thracian coast. Those barbarians are also the enemies of Rome, whether they are male or female. What tells me that you are not here as a spy?”

Nancy stayed calm, smiling at the Roman.

“So far from Sarmatia, Tribune Decius? We may be good warriors but we are not crazy enough to try to conduct raids so far South. Know that I left my tribe at the age of sixteen and have spent most of the years since then in Ephesus, where I met a family of Jewish merchants. I came to Jerusalem to see the great temple of the Jews and to see if their god is worth embracing.”

“A spiritual quest? That is most unusual…for a barbarian.”

“I am not a barbarian.” replied a bit dryly Nancy. “I was well educated while part of my tribe and I improved myself further while in Ephesus. I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Maybe. Are you planning to stay long in Jerusalem?”

“If fate is good to me, yes. I just bought a house today in the new city part. I intend to make my living here as a musician. Don’t get me wrong, though: I will not rent my body to men.”

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“A pity! You would turn many men crazy, Nauca. Be careful that you don’t catch the fancy of Tetrarch Archelaus.”

“I will keep that in mind, Tribune. May I go now and entertain your men?”

“You may, but know that I will keep an eye on you, Sarmatian.”

“I will keep that in mind as well, Tribune.” replied Nancy, bowing low before leaving the room. Sartorius, who was waiting in the hallway, hurried to her.

“So, how did it go?”

“Better than I expected, actually. Your tribune didn’t put me in chains right away for being a Sarmatian. Well, your soldiers must be impatient to hear me sing…and to have opportunities to grab my ass. Let’s not make them wait longer.” Sartorius laughed and eyed quickly her body.

“You certainly look reality in the face, Nauca. I like that. Follow me!”

Most of the Roman soldiers filling the big refectorium had finished eating by now and the dozen prostitutes present were now busy earning the most out of their charms, with the soldiers using much of their meager pay to buy some company. Admiring comments and exclamations went around the hall when Nancy took off her cape and, jumping deftly on top of a table, started playing her lute and singing in Koine, giving the soldiers sitting at that table a good look up her short tunic. Jumping from table to table, she sang a variety of songs, switching between Koine, Latin, Greek and Hebrew. The rowdy Roman march songs were most liked, with soldiers singing along while drinking wine. Nancy made sure to give them an eyeful, shaking her bum and letting the occasional hand caress her legs. One of the prostitutes, angered at seeing the soldier she was trying to entice throw a bronze coin to Nancy, shouted at her.

“Hey, if you are not ready to show your ass, then let us working girls give some real entertainment to these men.”

An approving roar came from the close to 400 soldiers in the hall.

“WELL SAID! SHOW SOME SKIN, AMAZON!” shouted a half-drunk soldier. The hands around Nancy’s legs suddenly became a lot more insistent. Nancy stopped singing immediately and stood straight on the table.

“LISTEN UP! YOU WANT TO SEE MY BODY? FINE! BUT NO TOUCHING UNLESS I WANT TO! DO WE HAVE A DEAL?”

While some were ready to agree, others taunted her.

“WHAT’S THE MATTER, AMAZON? GETTING PRUDISH?”

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“I AM A WARRIOR AND A MUSICIAN, NOT A PROSTITUTE. YOU HAVE ENOUGH OF THEM HERE ANYWAY, WHILE I DON’T SEE THEM PLAY OR SING.”

“WOMEN CAN’T BE WARRIORS.” shouted back a Roman. “THEY ARE ONLY GOOD FOR THE KITCHEN AND THE BEDROOM.”

For a feminist like Nancy, that was like waiving a red flag in front of a bull. She pointed a finger at the soldier who had just shouted.

“FIND A PAIR OF PRACTICE SWORDS AND I WILL SHOW YOU THAT I AM A WARRIOR.”

Half a dozen soldiers immediately rushed out to get practice weapons, with one coming back first after a minute with a pair of heavy wooden swords. Jumping off her table, Nancy went to the corner where her cape lay and put down her lute. Then, with whistles of admiration from around her, she took off all of her clothes except for her loincloth and her headband before grabbing one of the practice swords and running to the center of the hall. Her opponent, a mean smile on his face, joined her there, his sword held at the ready.

“You would make a fine slave, Amazon. Maybe I should take you, after beating the crap out of you.”

“I am nobody’s slave!” raged Nancy before stepping forward and starting a furious assault on the soldier. The Roman, overconfident and also a bit drunk, was quickly overwhelmed by her speed, incredible strength and superior swordsmanship, ending up on his back and with the blunt tip of Nancy’s weapon on his throat. To everybody’s surprise, she then threw down her sword and motioned her opponent to get up.

“You wanted to beat the crap out of me? Then let’s finish this with our bare hands.”

Roars and shouts of excitement and encouragement erupted around the hall as the Roman, feeling humiliated by his defeat at the hand of a mere woman, got back up and raised his fists.

“I will crush that pretty face of yours.”

The man, shorter than Nancy but stoutly built and with the moves of an experienced street fighter, swung a fist at her, putting all his strength in it. Waiting for him in a karate stance, Nancy easily deflected his swing and retaliated with a single lightning punch to his right eye, making the man stagger back. Now enraged, the Roman screamed and charged her. Stepping aside and grabbing him as he ran past her, Nancy pivoted a few

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times on her heels, making the man rotate around her before slamming him violently against a nearby table. The table and the soldiers sitting around it toppled in a heap, Nancy’s attacker shaking his head before getting back up. More cautious now, he advanced slowly on her, trying a few punches which were all deflected and followed by lightning blows from Nancy. Now bleeding seriously from the nose and mouth, the man tried to grab her in a bear hug, only to earn a knee in the groin. Grunting in pain and collapsing to his knees, the man was then knocked unconscious with a hand chop to the neck from Nancy. After an instant of silence, the crowd erupted in cheers, with Sartorius coming forward to congratulate her.

“That was fantastic, Nauca! I will certainly have a healthy respect for Amazons from now on.”

“Thanks! Let’s go back to having fun now. Can anyone here play the flute?”

“Flavius is pretty good with a flute.”

“Good! I need a fast tune for my next dance.”

Sartorius turned around and shouted at his subordinate.

“Flavius, get your flute and play us a lively tune!”

Within a minute, the legionnaire was playing a spirited tune, accompanying Nancy as she danced, still nearly naked, from table to table. Being far from a prudish girl, Nancy started enjoying herself, dancing in a provocative fashion and giving an eyeful to the soldiers while staying mostly away from their hands. She ended her show a few minutes later by jumping into Sartorius’ lap and giving him a quick kiss, making others laugh. She then got up and went around the hall with a wooden bowl to collect donations. The bowl quickly filled with bronze, copper and silver coins thrown by enthusiastic soldiers. Next, she dressed up and put back on her weapons and her cape. Seeing the disappointed look on the face of Sartorius, she went to see the decurion and caressed his face with both hands, smiling warmly to him.

“Don’t look so downcast, Sartorius: I will be back some other day, to show you where my new house is. See you then.”

She waved goodbye at the soldiers while leaving the hall, feeling satisfied: the Romans should now accept her more easily around Jerusalem. The streets of the city were dark when she emerged from the Antonia.

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Twenty minutes of cautious walking through the nearly deserted streets brought her back to her inn, where an anxious-looking Iram ran to her the moment she entered the main hall.

“Thank Ishtar, you are safe! How did it go at the Antonia?”

“Very well, my dear Iram. My purse is much fatter now and I didn’t need to bed any Roman for that. Tomorrow, I will start buying things to furnish my new house. If things go on like this, I should be able to do well here.”

“Still, beware of the Tetrarch and of the priests of the temple: they could be trouble for you.”

“I will keep that in mind, along with other warnings. Good night, Iram.” The Innkeeper shook his head as Nancy went upstairs, unsure about what she had meant about ‘other warnings’.

The next day was spent by Nancy going around the city markets and shops, buying things for her new house. She kept her shopping to a minimum, not wanting to appear too rich and thus attract thieves to her. Her last task of the day was to pack up her things at the inn and to load them on her horse. She exchanged warm goodbyes with Iram before leaving, promising him to come sing regularly at his inn. She made it to her house less than an hour before sundown and the start of this week’s Sabbath. Taking the time to lock the gate and the doors of the house, Nancy then got back on top of her horse, speaking to him in Neo-English.

“Pegasus, prepare for space-time jump back to base according to preset coordinates Gamma. Safe hover mode.”

“Instructions understood.” replied the robotic beast. The horse and its rider then floated up to an altitude of two meters off the ground as a control stick and a small instrument panel emerged from the collar of the horse, just in front of the saddle. Nancy grabbed the stick and verified the coordinates on the panel, then pushed a large red button. She and Pegasus then disappeared in a flash of white light.

11:31 (North America Central Time)

Friday, January 1, 3385 ‘A’

New Lake City University campus

American Great Lakes area

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One of the five students walking along one of the paved paths leading to the sociology faculty suddenly stopped and shouted while pointing skyward.

“Hey, what’s that?”

The other four teenagers also stopped and looked up, in time to see an impossible sight: a woman on a flying horse. They stared at the flying rider as she lost altitude and disappeared behind the sociology faculty.

“That was an Ancestor woman. She must be with the Time Patrol.” suggested a girl.

“What about the horse? Is it also a member of the Time Patrol?” replied another girl, getting a frown from her friend.

“It must be a machine, obviously. Still, I wish that I could have filmed her.”

Ingrid Weiss, listening like the other apprentices of the Time Patrol to a lecture on orbital mechanics, suddenly saw from the corner of her left eye a rider approach the headquarters building, where she and the others were. Her heart jumped with joy when she recognized who it was.

“NANCY IS BACK!”

Her shout immediately made the rest of the class rush to the bay windows. Mike Crawford smiled with pride as he watched his wife ride at a gallop, her long hair and her blue cape floating in the wind.

“That’s my girl!”

“Yeah, lucky bastard!” said Jim Milner, standing next to him. The teacher, a specialist in space operations, knocked a few times on his lectern to get the attention of his students.

“May we continue, please? We have only fifteen minutes left before lunch break anyway.”

Ingrid and Mike reluctantly took back their seats, like the others, but they only half listened to the rest of the lecture, their minds on Nancy. As soon as the class was declared over, everybody rushed out of the classroom and down to the reception area. The receptionist, a young giant woman, raised both hands as the 45 Ancestors were about to overrun her desk.

“Nancy Laplante is in conference with Doctor Tolkonen and Doctor Bella right now. She will brief all of you right after lunch.”

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The disappointed group of apprentices was about to leave for the cafeteria when Mike Crawford saw Nancy’s horse, waiting patiently outside.

“Hey, why not get the story from the proverbial horse’s mouth?” Amelia Earhart, who didn’t know about the true nature of Pegasus, gave him a funny look.

“Mike, I think that you spent too much time with horses on your ranch in Montana.”

“Ah, but that horse is special, Amelia. Follow me and you will see.” The group, led by Mike, went outside and crowded around Pegasus, who gave them a phlegmatic look.

“Howdy, partners!” it said in modern English tainted with a strong Texan drawl. “I suppose that you want to know how it went for Nancy and me?” Amelia’s jaw dropped wide open, while Mike and a few others burst out in laughter. That drew another remark from Pegasus.

“What’s the matter? You never saw a talking horse before?”

“A talking horse with a sense of humor. That’s rich!” exclaimed Jack Crawford while trying to control his laughter. Mike ignored the others and looked into Pegasus’ eyes.

“Did everything go well, Pegasus?”

“Everything went according to plan, Mike. Nancy has bought a house in Old Jerusalem and is already quite in demand as a musician. She did a gig for the Romans at the Antonia fortress last night and they appreciated, or so Nancy says.”

“A house in ancient Jerusalem, at a time the temple stood. I wish I could go.” said dreamily Samuel Goldman, an American Jew from 1941 ‘B’. Mike looked at him, thoughtful.

“Do you know Aramaic, Samuel?”

“Luckily, yes, along with Hebrew, Latin and Greek. To be able to pray at the temple of Jerusalem would be like an impossible dream come true for me.”

“Well,” said Amelia, “seeing a film of the real baby Jesus would be plenty for me. I hope that Nancy was able to get some footage of him.”

“She did!” replied Pegasus. “She actually helped give birth to Yeshua.” Many of the apprentices looked at each other with awe.

“That lucky Nancy!” exclaimed Katya Budanova, an ex-Soviet Air Force fighter pilot from 1943 ‘A’. “To be able to hold baby Jesus…”

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“Well, I’m sure that she will tell us all about it.” cut Mike. “Let’s go eat now. Maybe we will meet her at the cafeteria.”

That caused a near rush to the cafeteria, situated in the adjacent residential tower which also contained their apartments.

12:07 (North America Central Time)

Office of the Chief Administrator of the Time Patrol

‘’A possible war across time in a near future?’’ said Farah Tolkonen in a hesitant voice, frozen in her chair as she stared at Nancy, with Jan Bella sitting beside her and also staring at Nancy. The latter nodded once her head, her face somber.

‘’That is what the mental images sent to me by The One suggested, as he explained to me how Yeshua was conceived. It seems that my first, involuntary trip in time to the year 1940 was the start of a causality loop of monstrous proportion. Basically, my actions in 1940, apart from splitting time and creating Timeline ‘B’, will result in the eventual formation of a time travel-capable civilization in Timeline ‘B’, a civilization which will then manipulate history to make Yeshua possible. The fact that we did not detect their ship over the Palestine of the 1st Century demonstrates that this civilization may possess like us multi-spectral cloaking devices. Worst for us, this civilization was preceded by another one, also capable of time travel but being as well a militaristic, highly aggressive society. The connection between those two future civilizations from Timeline ‘B’ was not clear, but an image I saw showed one of our scoutships engaged in combat with an enormous time warship.’’

Farah exchanged a worried look with Jan Bella before facing again Nancy.

‘’Do you have something else than those mental images from The One to corroborate what you just told us? The High Council will want something more concrete before believing you…or taking any action about it.’’

Nancy clenched her teeth, knowing how difficult to believe was her story.

‘’Unfortunately, no. However, we now know at a minimum that another

civilization has traveled to the past to make Yeshua possible, thus influencing in a major way the history of Humanity. We will have to let that go as is, since Yeshua is now firmly part of history.’’

Farah shook her head in frustration.

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‘’Too bad that our space-time surveillance network was still not operational in the 1st Century. We could then have caught those people in the act.’’

‘’And do what then? prevent the appearance in history of one of the most influential religious prophets to have ever existed? This however reinforces what I told you two weeks ago, about the need for us to move our base to the distant past. Have you been able to convince Grand Administrator Kern and the High Council about that, Farah?’’

‘’It took some time, but yes, they finally accepted the logic of it and agreed to allocate us supplementary funds for such a mobile base. We will also get a heavy transport ship and an armed cruiser in a few months. In view of what you just told me, I will also ask for more combat robots. All this will however mean that we will need more members to crew all those ships and facilities.’’

‘’I can delay my return to Palestine if you want, in order to help you in that, Farah. After all, I could spend a year here and still return to Palestine at the date of my choice.’’

‘’Hurray for time travel!’’ replied on a sarcastic tone Farah, the weight of her responsibilities becoming ever heavier. ‘’Well, how do you plan to proceed with your mission, now that you have this house in Jerusalem?’’

‘’I intend to live there for the next four years, until the Romans take down the local king and announce a new census for Palestine. That census and political takeover are significant events in the Bible.’’

‘’Four years?!’’ exclaimed Farah, shaken. Nancy hurried to reassure her.

‘’In appearance only, Farah. In reality, I will appear at intervals, pretending to go on frequent trips outside of Jerusalem to go play in other cities. I will spend at most a few months of my biological life in Palestine during those four years. I promise you to keep a detailed accounting of my time there for your bean counters at the pay section.’’ Farah gave her a critical look.

‘’Nancy, you know that I am not the cheap type. Your pay will reflect your real time spent in Palestine. Anything else?’’

‘’Yes! Once I return from Palestine, I will try to find more quality recruits for us in the past. I have in fact a few prospects in mind already. Then, I will go live for another year my life as a war correspondent in the 21st Century.’’

‘’More wars, after all that time in that barbaric past?’’ said despondently Jan Bella. ‘’Aren’t you afraid of going crazy by seeing so much violence all the time, Nancy?’’ To that, Nancy shrugged her shoulders with an innocent smile.

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‘’Hey, didn’t you know already that I am an adrenaline junkie, Jan?’’

06:53 (Jerusalem Time)

Tuesday, April 11, 6 C.E.

(25th of Nissan, year 3766 of the Hebrew calendar) House of Nauca, Jerusalem

Kingdom of Judea, Samaria and Idumea

Nancy was coming back from fetching water at the public fountain and was about to enter her house when a Jewish man ran down her street while shouting.

“ROMAN SOLDIERS ARE OCCUPYING HEROD’S PALACE! THEY HAVE ARRESTED THE TETRARCH!”

While most of her neighbors who were within sight hesitated or seemed incredulous, Nancy knew immediately what was going to happen and hurried inside her house, pouring the water from her buckets in a clay basin before throwing a cape over her shoulders and going out again. She locked her front door with her key before walking out in the street, not wanting to attract attention on her by riding a horse. She also didn’t take any weapons with her, for the same reason. People were already running or walking from all over the city towards the palace of Herod Archelaus, from where a growing noise was coming. Soon arriving at the upper market adjacent to the palace, Nancy was able to see above the crowd thanks to her height and started filming right away with her micro-camera headband. The scene around the palace was one of utter confusion, with excited Jews milling around and trying to find what was happening, while over 200 Roman soldiers did their best to keep them away from the main gate of the palace. More Roman soldiers were visible through the gate, while dozens of Herod’s soldiers sat as a group under Roman guard, disarmed and looking dejected. The crowd of Jews cheered wildly when Herod Archelaus, without his customary gold crown and purple cloak, rode out of the palace under tight Roman escort, his hands shackled in iron manacles. A strong column of Roman infantrymen then opened a way through the crowd for the cavalrymen escorting the dispossessed king, going through the nearby Jaffa Gate. A richly dressed Roman soon appeared afterwards on top of the walls, above the main gate of the palace, and shouted to quiet down the crowd. He could soon be heard by most in the crowd, including Nancy.

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“PEOPLE OF JERUSALEM! FOLLOWING NUMEROUS AND REPEATED COMPLAINTS ABOUT THE RULE OF THE TETRARCH OF JUDEA, SAMARIA AND IDUMEA, HEROD ARCHELAUS, THE GREAT EMPEROR AUGUSTUS HAS DECIDED TO STRIP HIM OF HIS POWER AND AUTHORITY AND TO EXILE HIM TO GAUL. AS OF TODAY, AND BY THE WILL OF THE EMPEROR, JUDEA, SAMARIA AND IDUMEA WILL BE RULED DIRECTLY BY ROME AND WILL BE PART OF THE PROVINCE OF SYRIA AS THE AUTONOMOUS TERRITORY OF JUDEA. I, MARCUS GAIUS

COPONIUS, WILL ADMINISTER JUDEA AS YOUR PREFECT FROM NOW ON.” Whispers and exclamations went around the crowd at that announcement, drowning the new Roman prefect and forcing him to stop talking until the noise subsided again. Nancy, filming all this, was jubilant: she was now recording live a significant historical event. Jan Bella was going to be ecstatic. Coponius then started shouting again.

“BE ASSURED THAT THE RULE OF ROME WILL BE FAIR AND JUST, AS ALWAYS. YOUR TAXES, WHICH HAD BEEN WASTED AWAY BY HEROD

ARCHELAUS FOR SO MANY YEARS, WILL NOW BE USED EFFICIENTLY AND FOR THE COMMON GOOD. HOWEVER, PAST IRREGULARITIES IN THE TAX SYSTEM IS MAKING IT IMPERATIVE TO REVIEW IT ENTIRELY. THUS, A TAX CENSUS WILL SOON BE CONDUCTED, TO ASSESS FAIRLY THE TAX LOAD OF EACH CITIZEN OF JUDEA.”

Nancy nodded in appreciation: Coponius was doing a good job of explaining and justifying something that was bound to raise the hire of all Jews: direct taxation by Rome. The problems started right away for the Roman prefect, with a man in the crowd shouting back at him.

“ONLY GOD CAN RULE ISRAEL! WE DON’T NEED PAGANS LIKE YOU AND YOUR EMPEROR!”

Nancy saw Coponius turn red with anger as the crowd cheered the man, who added fuel to the fire.

“LET’S NOT PAY TAXES TO THE ROMANS! WE WILL PAY TAXES ONLY TO THE TEMPLE! DOWN WITH ROMAN RULE! WE WANT THE RULE OF GOD!” The crowd cheered even louder and started pushing against the line of Roman infantrymen protecting the gate of the palace. On a command from their centurion, the legionnaires lowered their javelins at the ready, making the crowd back away a few paces. The prefect used that break to join with his officers by the gate and get on his horse. His legionnaires, pressed on all sides by the hostile crowd of Jews, had a hard

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time protecting him as he retreated towards the Antonia fortress. A few Jews who tried too hard to break through to Coponius were stabbed by Roman soldiers, further angering the crowd. The same man who had shouted back at Coponius then shook his fist over his head.

“LET’S PURGE JERUSALEM OF ALL PAGANS! HUNT DOWN THOSE WHO CAVORT WITH THE ROMANS!”

Nancy swore quietly, wishing that she could shut up that fanatical idiot: he was going to start a horrible bloodbath if the others kept listening to him. It was not however her place to intervene now: she had to stay strictly neutral in this and let history run its course. As unfortunate as all this was, it was actually going as dictated by history. Then, things started to turn ugly for her. A young, bearded man near her pointed her to others around him.

“THERE IS A PAGAN, A FOREIGN WOMAN OF LOW VIRTUE! LET’S STONE HER!”

Nancy didn’t wait to see how others reacted to that: she immediately rushed towards the nearest street entrance, pushing away anybody in her path. The speed of her reaction probably saved her, as at least fifty men shouting wildly went after her after a moment of hesitation. However, even with her superhuman strength, pushing one’s way out from the middle of a dense crowd was no easy feat. Her cape was quickly ripped away from her as countless hands tried to grab and hold her. Fighting her way out like a devil in holy water, Nancy was struck and punched from all sides, with a man making her scream in pain when he roughly grabbed her left breast and pulled hard on it. She elbowed him in the face, breaking his nose and making him release his hold. The top of her tunic was then ripped off her shoulders, leaving her bare-chested. Only her wide leather belt prevented her from ending up nearly totally naked. Now desperate, she started punching around her as well as pushing, knocking out many of the men in her way. Seeing an opening to her left, she rushed in that direction, with a street opening less than twenty meters away. As she was about to break free from the crowd, she felt a sharp blow to her lower back, followed by a sharp pain. She ignored it and sprinted down the street, the screaming crowd still behind her and in pursuit. While wiping away blood from a cut on her forehead which was partially blinding her, she turned a street corner to head towards the new city part. Seeing a dark corner nearby, she went to it and, momentarily out of sight of her pursuers, activated her time distorter, disappearing in a flash of light. She reappeared in her bedroom, sighing with relief: that had been a

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close call indeed. She suddenly felt dizzy and had to momentarily lean against a wall. Passing her left hand in her back, she found out that what was left of her tunic was now covered with blood.

“Damn! I must have been stabbed back there.”

Nancy took a minute to concentrate and mentally heal the worst of her wounds, then took off her torn and blood-stained tunic to wash herself quickly. Inspecting next her camera headband, she was relieved to find it intact: the recordings just taken by her cameras, while they had nearly cost her life, were now historical documents of very high value.

Once washed, she put on a Sarmatian outfit of trousers and long-sleeved shirt, then donned as well her bronze helmet and scale-mail battle armor before arming herself with all her weapons. She packed quickly her spare clothes inside her bedroll, then walked out in the courtyard of her house and climbed the stairs to the upper floor at a run to go to the locked room she used to keep her valuables. She unlocked the padlock on the door of the strong room and put it inside her pouch, then entered and grabbed a wooden box hidden inside a large chest full of clothes and pieces of cloth. The box, of advanced construction despite its antique appearance, contained her electronic equipment and two stun pistols, plus a small fortune in gems and gold pieces. As she came out of the room with the box, Nancy saw many columns of smoke rising from various points inside the city. Guessing that the rioters were attacking and burning down the houses of those judged as pro-Roman, she ran down the steps and started loading her things on her horse. She was running inside her house to go grab her last things of value when the double doors of her courtyard’s gate were shaken by multiple fists knocking on them, accompanied by a concert of hateful screams. One of Nancy’s neighbors, who was standing on the roof of his house, shouted down at the crowd outside her house.

“THAT PAGAN PROSTITUTE IS STILL INSIDE! I CAN SEE HER AND HER HORSE!”

Nancy gave the man a dark look.

“So much for being a good neighbor, you Joachim bastard!” Running to her bedroom, she grabbed her saddlebags and her bedroll and brought them out to her horse. She quickly but solidly tied her things on her horse’s back, paying particular care to her treasure chest. While she didn’t really care about the gold and the

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jewels inside it, the transit probes and stun pistols inside were another matter. The last items she packed on her horse were her musical instruments. By now, the gates of her courtyard were shaking under a series of violent blows, probably from an improvised ram. She got on top of her horse just before the gates gave up, crashing open and letting in dozens of wild men yielding clubs, sticks, knives and lit torches. A few even had Roman shields and weapons evidently taken from overwhelmed soldiers. Her normal exit route now impassable, Nancy decided to take the only way out that would not appear magical to the rioters.

“Pegasus, climb the stairs and jump!”

The machine, which was actually quite intelligent, understood immediately and climbed the stone steps of her courtyard’s wall, watched by the incredulous crowd. It then jumped one level down into the side street bordering the house’s eastern façade and galloped away with Nancy, leaving the rioters behind in a cloud of dust. Sweeping aside with the flat of her sword the few rioters she encountered along the street, Nancy made Pegasus head at a gallop towards one of the gates of the city.

As she was emerging into the public square adjacent to the Antonia fortress, Nancy saw a small group of persons who were running towards the fortress. The group comprised two men, a woman and two young children and was clothed in the Roman fashion. Nancy recognized the man leading the group as she galloped towards them: he was a Roman wine merchant who had once invited her to play and sing in his house. The man was probably leading his small family to the safety of the Antonia. Unfortunately for him, a large crowd of screaming Jewish rioters was pursuing the Romans, brandishing a panoply of improvised weapons. The rioters caught up with the fleeing Romans as they were still over a hundred meters away from the fortress. According to the rules of the Time Patrol, Nancy would normally have no other choice but to let the tragedy unfold without intervening. Two things however pushed her into action: first, the rioters were now blocking her own path of retreat; second, her conscience would not let her refuse her help to innocent persons. Besides, the battles and massacres which would follow in Jerusalem meant that the rioters she was seeing were most probably going to die in the days and weeks to come. The Roman answer to popular revolts was always brutal and merciless.

‘’YAH! CHARGE, PEGASUS!’’

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The robotic horse accelerated at once to full speed, guided by Nancy towards the Romans. The wine merchant and the other man in the group, probably an employee or a servant, were frantically slashing around them with short swords, trying to protect the woman and two children from the rioters. From the corner of one eye, Nancy could see Roman soldiers observing the scene from the top of the ramparts of the fortress. The legionnaires were however powerless to intervene, their short bows having insufficient range and precision to shoot without risking to hit the family of Romans. Grabbing her lance with her right hand and taking it out of its leather holder on the right side of her horse, Nancy pointed it and pushed a savage war scream as she was going to plow in the crowd of rioters. Sarmatian warriors, apart from being expert horsemen and excellent archers, were known throughout the Ancient World as masters of the lance. Nancy proved it by jabbing repeatedly at the rioters around her while Pegasus ran over or violently pushed aside the Jews in its path. Excited by this battle, which reminded her of her epic charges against English soldiers when she was Joan of Arc, Nancy quickly plowed her way through the rioters, soon coming side by side with the Romans and shouting in Latin to the wine merchant while killing a rioter with her lance.

‘’GET YOUR WIFE AND KIDS ON MY HORSE, QUICKLY!’’ The merchant, who was bleeding from the forehead, did not hesitate and grabbed at once his six-year-old son by the waist to give him to Nancy. Letting go her bridle, Nancy took hold of the child with her left hand and sat him in front of her. As she was hoisting behind her the merchant’s wife, the man accompanying the family crumbled to the ground, a butcher’s knife in his chest. Nancy threw her lance at once, killing the rioter who had stabbed the Roman. Taking out her sword, she grabbed next the nine-year-old daughter of the merchant and sat her against her belly in the saddle before shouting to the merchant, who was slashing madly at the rioters around them.

‘’HANG ON TO MY LEFT FOOT! I WILL OPEN A PATH TO THE FORTRESS.’’

‘’NO! I WILL ONLY SLOW YOU DOWN. SAVE MY FAMILY! GO!’’ Nancy clenched her teeth, realizing that the merchant was right: the rioters had reorganized themselves after Nancy’s furious charge and were now closing their ranks around her. The merchant then charged the rioters blocking the way to the fortress, killing a number of them and making others recoil. Nancy was prompting Pegasus in that direction when the merchant was submerged by the crowd and disappeared from sight, making his wife scream with horror and anguish.

‘’LUCIUS!’’

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Slashing without mercy the rioters around her, Nancy pushed her horse to a full gallop, trampling down dozens of rioters before breaking through their ranks and gaining a clear path towards the Antonia.

On top of the Northwest tower of the Antonia fortress, Sartorius was watching with Prefect Coponius, Tribune Decius and a number of legionnaires the progress of the rioters, raging at his powerlessness to stop them. They unfortunately had too few troops in Jerusalem to do much against the thousands of fanatical Jews now filling the streets and spreading mayhem in the upper city and new city. A new pillar of smoke then started to rise over the new city, less than 250 meters away from the Antonia. Sartorius noticed it and felt dread when he realized from where it came: Nauca’s house was burning. The Sarmatian would have of course been an obvious target for the Jews as a known pagan female musician, a combination that equated with sin to them. The trouble was that Nauca was one musician he cared a lot about lately, having spent some very good times with her during the last four years. He had even asked her once to marry her, to which she had gently said no. The shout from a soldier then attracted his attention to a small group of Roman citizens being pursued by a crowd of Jewish rioters. Sartorius clenched his teeth as the rioters surrounded the Roman civilians, expecting those unfortunate souls to be cut to pieces quickly. His heart then jumped in his chest when a female warrior on a horse and wearing armor charged the rioters, her lance pointed.

‘’YEAH! HIT THEM, NAUCA!’’

He followed the savage fight that ensued with a mix of anxiety and pride, watching the Sarmatian woman show her valor and combat skills. He shouted with joy like the other legionnaires when Nauca broke free of the rioters and galloped towards the entrance of the fortress, a woman and two children mounted with her on her horse. On the directives of the Prefect Coponius, Antonius Decius ordered the main doors to be opened before running down from the ramparts, four soldiers behind him. Sartorius had to stay up on the wall and watched with Coponius Nauca’s approach, ordering his six archers to start firing arrows in the crowd of Jews in order to cover her.

Nancy made Pegasus go up the stairs leading to the fortress’ main gate, stopping just in front of the massive wooden doors as those opened slowly from the inside. She however did not go inside, lowering instead from her horse the two children

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and the wife of the wine merchant. Tribune Decius, surrounded by legionnaires, then went to her.

‘’Well done, Sarmatian! I see that I badly misjudged you four years ago. Come in: I am offering you the protection of my fortress.’’

‘’Thank you but no, Tribune Decius. I just lost my house here and will go to Galilee, time for things to quiet down here before coming back. I am sorry if I wasn’t able to save the father of these children.’’

Decius looked briefly at the two children, who were crying while being held by their mother, before eyeing Nancy with gravity.

‘’Many people will unfortunately die today, Sarmatian. I don’t have enough soldiers here with me to stop those cursed Jewish rioters. Would you be ready to carry a message to our garrison in Caesarea?’’

‘’It will then have to be an oral message, Tribune Decius: the rioters are soon going to block all the gates leading out of the city and I must hurry if I want to be able to leave Jerusalem.’’

Antonius Decius thought for a moment before taking a decision and turning to face a centurion.

‘’Marius, run and go get your horse! The Sarmatian will escort you to Caesarea, where you will give the alert and ask for reinforcements to retake Jerusalem.’’ As the centurion was running inside after saluting him, Decius took a small purse from his belt and threw it to Nancy, who caught it with one hand.

‘’For your coming travel expenses and for your valorous services, Sarmatian. You have done well in the eyes of Rome today.’’

Nancy smiled to him before giving the purse to the widow of the wine merchant.

‘’Thank you, Tribune Decius, but this poor woman will need this money more than I do. To help punish those who burned down my house will be enough reward for me.’’

Decius nodded once, liking her answer.

‘’I will place a good word on your behalf with the Prefect. If you ever want to join us as an auxiliary, you will be most welcomed then.’’

‘’I will keep your offer in mind, Tribune Decius.’’ replied Nancy, unwilling to commit herself. Centurion Marius then showed up on his horse at the gate, nodding to Nancy.

‘’I am ready, Sarmatian.’’

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‘’Then, let’s hurry before all the gates are blocked. Ave, Tribune Decius!’’

‘’Ave, Sarmatian!’’

Followed closely by the centurion, Nancy guided Pegasus down the steps, then disappeared with him in a side street leading towards the Gate of the Sheep. Decius made the woman and two children come inside and ordered the doors closed and barricaded before going back up on the wall to report to Coponius.

‘’Centurion Marius is now on his way to Caesarea with the Sarmatian, Prefect.’’

‘’Excellent! Let’s hope that they will get there without problems. We will need a lot of reinforcements here if we want to retake the city. Those damn Jews will pay dearly for their impudence, by Jupiter!’’

Sartorius, who was listening discreetly while keeping an eye for Nauca, shouted joyfully a few minutes later.

‘’PREFECT, CENTURION MARIUS AND THE SARMATIAN ARE NOW OUTSIDE THE WALLS!’’

To both his surprise and joy, Sartorius saw Nauca suddenly stop her horse, then look squarely towards him before waving at him, as if she had heard him. He waved back, then watched her gallop away with Centurion Marius, tears filling his eyes.

“RIDE, NAUCA, RIDE!”

16:29 (Jerusalem Time)

Sunday, April 16, 6 C.E.

(30th of Nissan, year 3766 of the Hebrew calendar) Village of Nazareth, Galilee

Yosef was returning to his house with a few other villagers, sweaty and dirty after a hard day of work in the fields, when he saw a rider approach in the distance. The horseman was coming from the South and was riding hard, something that alarmed Yosef and the others. They ran to their houses, warning the women and children to get inside. Yosef did encounter a problem with his son Yeshua, though: the four-year-old boy wouldn’t budge from the spot behind a low stone wall from where he was watching the rider approach the village.

“Yeshua, you have to go inside, now!” insisted Yosef, about to lose patience. His little son looked calmly up at him with a disarming smile.

“Why, father? The woman is simply happy to see us again.”

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Yosef froze, mostly for two reasons: first, his son was acting up again, predicting something he couldn’t possibly know; and second, a riding woman who knew them could equate to only one person. Looking carefully, Yosef soon realized that his son was right…again. The rider was effectively the tall goyim woman who had lent him the services of her horse four years ago. Yosef looked down at Yeshua, perplex: his son kept amazing him all the time, sometimes in a scary way. Most other children refused to play with him, finding him spooky, while rumors flew thick around the village about the boy. Yeshua then said something he didn’t understand.

“Father, the woman shines much brighter than you or the others in the village. Why?”

“I…I don’t know, Yeshua. Maybe you should ask her later. Let’s greet her.” Yeshua jumped up with joy and would have run towards the rider if not restrained by Yosef. The woman finally stopped her horse a few paces from them, flashing down a smile at them.

“Yosef! And this must be Yeshua. Am I happy to see you again.” She jumped down from her horse and led it by the bridles, going to Yosef and patting his right shoulder.

“Still as solid as four years ago, Yosef. How is your little family?”

“Well and growing.” Answered Yosef in a reserved tone. The other villagers were starting to come out of their houses now, many armed with tools or blades. The woman paid them no attention, crouching to face little Yeshua and caressing his head.

“And you, my little Yeshua. You grew nicely since the day I helped deliver you four years ago. You can’t remember me, so please call me Nauca.”

“Nauca, why do you shine brighter than the others?” asked innocently the little boy. Yosef grimaced in embarrassment, while Nauca looked confused at first before smiling.

“That’s a secret I keep, but I will tell you later, just to you.” Yosef felt better: the woman had been quite skilled in answering Yeshua in a way that would quiet him down without offending the boy.

“You look quite tired and dusty, Nauca. Let’s go inside my house, so that I can offer you something to eat before the start of the Sabbath at dusk.”

“Thank you, Yosef. I appreciate that very much. In exchange, could I give your children a sweet I have: it is a mix of nuts and grains, coated with honey.”

“That sounds fine to me, friend. Come!”

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Yosef studiously ignored the fact that Nauca was wearing men’s trousers as he led her to his house, little Yeshua holding the hand of the stranger. The other villagers threw scandalized looks at her and her weapons, staying away from her and watching her as she tied her horse to a wooden pole. She took down a pair of saddlebags and a small chest from her horse before following Yosef and Yeshua inside a courtyard onto which five houses opened up. They then entered a stone and mud house which formed one of the corners of the courtyard, stepping into semi-darkness. Miriam, busy distributing bread into clay bowls, grinned with joy at the sight of the Sarmatian.

“You came back after all, Nauca. This is a great occasion. Please, sit down and share our supper.”

“Not before I wash, my dear Miriam. I will then pitch my tent quickly before sundown comes, so…by God, you are expecting!”

Miriam touched her prominent belly with pride.

“Our fifth child is due in a month. That will be my third pregnancy. Little Miriam is resting in the corner behind you.”

Nauca squealed in pleasure at the sight of the toddler girl lying in the middle of a thick sheepskin and went on her knees to admire the child. That made Yosef smile: women were the same everywhere, especially when it came to small children and babies. After a minute of playing with little Miriam, Nauca excused herself and went out to pitch her tent before nightfall, leaving inside her saddlebags and her wooden chest. Yaaqov, now eleven, went to the latter and, out of curiosity, tried to lift the top of the chest, drawing a rebuke from Yosef.

“YAAQOV! You have no business examining the belongings of a guest.”

“Yes, father. This chest is heavy, though.”

“As I just said, it is none of your business, Yaaqov. Nauca is not a Jew but she is a good person. Be respectful with her.”

“Father, how could a goyim be a good person if she doesn’t believe in God?” Asked nine years old Josua. Yosef paused, measuring his answer.

“Son, don’t forget that God created all men and women, not only us Jews. They were in essence like us, but many lost their ways and prayed to false gods and idols. Some, like our guest, see past those gods and suspect that the true one is waiting for them. Such goyims are called God-fearers and can be nice persons. They simply need a chance to find God. Nauca went to Jerusalem four years ago in order to find God.”

“Then, is she a Jew now?” asked Yaaqov. Yosef shrugged, unsure.

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“We will have to ask her later. I am sure that she will have many stories to tell us after supper. I will now go wash myself as well before eating. Be patient and don’t touch her things.”

Yosef came back a few minutes before Nauca. Once both were inside, Miriam served everybody bread, olives, figs and salted fish, with water to wash down the food. They ate in silence at first, until Nauca spoke softly to nobody in particular.

“I had to flee Jerusalem last Tuesday, when the city erupted in riots. The Romans had just deposed Herod Archelaus and had declared Judea a Roman territory, with taxations to be raised directly by Rome and with a tax census to be conducted soon. That was when the Jewish population rioted and attacked the Romans and other non-Jews in Jerusalem. I was attacked myself and my house was burned. I was barely able to flee the city with what I now have on my horse.”

Yosef, Miriam and the two older boys stopped eating and looked at each other with consternation.

“Is Jerusalem in Jewish hands?” asked Yosef, hopeful. Nauca shook her head gravely.

“Not really. The rioters killed many foreigners but the Romans were still holding the Antonia fortress when I left and will most probably retake the city as soon as they can receive reinforcements. Those riots may spread for a while but I believe that they will eventually be quashed in a horrible bloodbath.”

“How could the Jews of Jerusalem lose?” replied hotly Yaaqov. “God is surely with them.”

Yosef looked at Nauca, afraid that his son could have offended her, even if he tended to agree with Yaaqov. Nauca simply lowered her head, speaking in a resigned tone.

“I am a warrior, young boy, and I know about military things. As for God’s help, this would not be the first time that Jews lost a battle or even a war despite their prayers. Think about the destruction of the first temple and the deportation of the Jews by the Babylonians. Believe me: there will be a lot of sorrow in this land in the days and weeks to come.”

“Why did they attack you, Nauca?” asked cautiously Miriam. “Didn’t you go to Jerusalem to try becoming a Jew?”

That brought a wry smile on Nauca’s face.

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“That didn’t work out the way I expected. I was considered too different, too much outside the norms. Also, I found that certain aspects of your religion, like in many other religions, went deeply against some of my personal values and beliefs, like the way women are treated here as inferior to men in nearly all respects. I believe in God, but I am not ready to demean myself just because a priest says I have to. I know that what I say may shock you, but I believe in telling the truth.”

“Then, what will you do now?”

“I have been thinking about that while riding North, Miriam. I will probably go establish myself in a city which will be more tolerant about my kind, where I will live according to my beliefs, using my talents as a musician and singer. Even though the temple priests would not accept me, I will keep God close to me…in my head.”

“But God would have to accept you first.” objected Yosef. Nauca stared into his eyes.

“He has already accepted me, Yosef. That much I know and no priest will tell me otherwise.”

Ignoring his shocked look, Nauca went to search for a moment inside her saddlebags, taking out a cloth bag and pouring some of its content in her open left hand. She then presented her hand to the children.

“Take some: this is a mix of nuts, grains and honey. It is very tasty and filling.” The two older boys tried some cautiously at first, while Yeshua was quick to grab a handful of granola cereals and to eat it. Nauca next gave some to Miriam and Yosef, who tasted the granola and liked it. Everybody took seconds, to Nancy’s satisfaction. Yosef patted his stomach.

“You are right, Nauca. This mixture is very filling and sweet. The honey in it must have cost a lot.”

“Not really. Now, I believe that I had a secret to tell to Yeshua. Yeshua, come in my tent outside for a minute.”

Miriam and the two older boys looked questioningly at Yosef as Nauca and Yeshua went outside. Yosef smiled reassuringly at them.

“Don’t worry: Nauca earlier stopped Yeshua from asking weird questions by promising to answer him in secret. She can be a good storyteller, apart from singing and playing music.”

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Nancy closed the flap of her small tent’s entrance before sitting cross-legged and lowering little Yeshua in her lap, facing her. Her micro-camera headband was still recording, as this could well be one of the crucial points of her mission. She smiled warmly to the boy while caressing his hair with both hands.

“Yeshua, you said earlier that I shone more brightly than others. Does everybody shine to you?”

“Yes, but you are much brighter.”

“And can you hear the others inside your head?”

The boy nodded his head gravely.

“I do, but they all laugh at me when I tell them that.”

“Yeshua, what I will tell you now is very important. You must not talk about those strange feelings and sights to others. If you do, they may grow to dislike you and even hurt you. You must keep your abilities to yourself, for your own safety. If you have to use them, then be discreet.”

“But you don’t know how I feel.”

“Yes, I do, Yeshua.” said calmly Nancy. “You also shine much brighter than the others, like me, and I also can hear others inside my head. We probably have a lot in common in a certain kind of way. We are different from the others and that is why we both shine more brightly.”

“Are we better than the others, then?”

“Not necessarily, Yeshua. We have special abilities but we will be better only if we use those abilities to help others, not if we use them to hurt or dominate others. You must use those abilities to do good deeds. Do you understand that?”

“Yes!” said sheepishly the boy before staring into her eyes. “Did God make you special?”

Nancy hesitated, and then nodded.

“Someone very powerful visited me some time ago and helped me. Now, promise me that you will not repeat any of this to others, even your family. They would not believe you anyway.”

“I promise.”

“Good! Now, let’s go back inside your house, where I will tell stories and sing. Would you like that?”

“Oh yes!” replied Yeshua enthusiastically.

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Nancy stayed only two nights in the house of Yosef and Miriam, waiting until the Sabbath was passed before making her goodbyes to the family. She gave a particularly warm hug to Yeshua, then got on her horse. She was about to spur her horse forward when Miriam touched her left foot, looking up at her.

“Will we see you again, Nauca?”

“Probably not, kind Miriam. Our lives are too different and I must go live where I will be accepted. I will pray God for the welfare of you and of your family, though. Shelamah!”

“Shelamah, Nauca!”

The family watched her trot away in silence, then returned to its house to prepare for the day’s work. Miriam was quick to notice Yeshua’s long face and caressed his head.

“You miss Nauca already, Yeshua?”

“Yes, Mother. She was special.”

“That she was. But you don’t need to be sad: she left you a nice gift.” The boy took hold of the gold Star of David pendant hanging from his neck by a long gold chain and admired it for a moment.

“I will always wear it, mother: I promised her that.” he said proudly.

09:05 (North America Central Time)

Sunday, January 17, 3385 ‘A’

Time Patrol headquarters, New Lake City University campus American Great Lakes area, Global Council

Farah Tolkonen, waiting in the reception lobby of the headquarters building with Jan Bella, Mike Crawford and Lori Kano, smiled when she saw Pegasus land in front of the building at the preplanned time, Nancy on its back. The robotic horse then trotted through the snow up to the main entrance doors, with Nancy jumping down and running inside to exchange a long, passionate kiss with Mike. She finally stepped back from Mike and hugged in turn Farah, Jan and Lori.

‘’The second phase of my mission is now completed, Farah. Yeshua is now four years old and still lives in Nazareth with his family. Miriam had a baby girl named Sarah in the meantime, with Sarah now being two years old. Miriam is also expecting another baby. Tetrarch Archelaus was deposed by the Romans on April 11 of Year 6 and the Jews of Jerusalem then revolted. My house was burned down but I was able, barely, to

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escape the rioters, who were killing the non-Jews in the city. I recorded all that and my films should captivate you, Jan.’’

The chief historian grinned with anticipated pleasure.

“Excellent! I can hardly wait to see those recordings. The first batch of recordings from phase one of Nancy’s mission was already fascinating.”

“I have to agree with Doctor Bella.” said Lori Kano. “The extracts from those first recordings in the past proved extremely popular with GNN viewers. They are thirsty for more.”

“They won’t be disappointed, Miss Kano. The deposition of Archelaus and the riots which followed were dramatic…and bloody. Before leaving Nazareth for here, I gave a gift to Yeshua, a gold pendant containing a radio beacon. We can now send a shipborne tracking team to follow him for the next eighteen years via probes, with short, periodic checks to document his life until the point where he will start gathering disciples. At that point, I will return to Palestine and follow Yeshua closely, to get to know his disciples.”

Jan nodded, having already planned for that phase of the mission.

“The team has already been designated and will depart Monday morning on the BABYLON. What’s next on your agenda, Nancy?”

“First, I will go give my recordings to our team of analysts and technicians. Then, I will have a long, hot bath. Later this week, I will go check on how things are going in 1941 ‘B’. With some luck, I will be able to grab some quality recruits then.”