'A huge man!' she said. 'Very tall and very tired and very wet; someone important, I think,' she added. 'I brought him in out of the snow.'
Fara followed her quickly. At the sight of the visitor, who stood waiting, she stared incredulously for an instant, and then rushed into his arms. 'Petros!' she cried. 'Is it possible? Is it really you?'
'Have I changed so much?' he asked.
She led him to the glowing fireplace and began tugging off his snow-covered robe. He sat down wearily and Ione knelt to unfasten the soaked sandal-thongs.
'Your hair!' exclaimed Fara. 'Your beard! Even your voice is different, Peter! I'm afraid you have suffered deeply. But—' she studied him candidly, intuitively. 'But—whatever has happened to you, it has made you great!' Her husky voice lowered to a tone of reverence. 'Did the Master leave you in charge of his earthly Kingdom?'
Ione stood before them, wide-eyed with bewilderment, apparently unable to decide whether to listen or leave. Fara said, in Greek, 'Petros, this is my dear Ione, of whom I have often spoken. . . . And Ione, this is the Big Fisherman whom Jesus named Petros.'
'A rock?' murmured Ione. 'Yes,' she added quickly. 'That is so! A rock! Yes—it is true!' Impulsively she knelt at his feet; and Peter, taking both her hands in his, raised her up gently.
'I am not to be worshipped, Ione,' he said, in her own tongue. 'I am only a man who has walked humbly beside a King. I give you his blessing.'
Ione supervised the preparation of a nourishing supper; and, after they had eaten, Peter and Fara sat by the fire talking earnestly until far into the night. Fara listened with increasing perplexity as Peter confided the nature of his errand in Arabia. A strange power had been bestowed upon him, he said. The Holy Spirit had enabled him to perform miracles of healing. He had made cripples walk!
Fara's heart raced as her intuition informed her of the amazing experiment he had in mind. He was going to try to heal Deran!
'No direct command has come to me,' Peter was saying, 'but surely it would please God, and advance the Master's Kingdom of peace and goodwill among men, if some act of kindness might cure the ancient enmity between the Arab and the Jew. Perhaps it is my task, by God's help, to do this thing.'
Fara made no comment; did not lift her eyes. After a moment's waiting, Peter continued:
'Would it not soften the heart of Arabia if a Jew should be the means of restoring the heir to their throne?'
'I do not know,' murmured Fara; adding, when Peter's searching look called for an explanation of her doubt, 'It has been a bitter enmity for ages.' She could not bring herself to tell him that it would be no great favour to Arabia to put Deran on his feet. Who was Fara—to discourage the healing of any man's paralysis? And how dared she pit her judgment against that of the man whom God had invested with superhuman power?
'Think you, Fara, that the Queen will let me see the Prince?' wondered Peter.
'I do not know,' she replied. 'The Queen is much overwrought by the recent afflictions. There's no telling what attitude she might take.'
'Will you go with me tomorrow,' entreated Peter, 'and tell her why I have come?'
'Queen Rennah is not friendly to me,' said Fara.
'Your Voldi is a Councillor,' said Peter. 'Could you persuade him to present me?'
'No! No!' exclaimed Fara. 'I couldn't ask Voldi to do that!'
There was a long, tense silence. Peter sat gnawing his bearded underlip in perplexity. At length he spoke almost sternly.
'Something tells me that you do not want the Prince to be healed! Is this true?'
There was no use trying to evade this query. Fara straightened for her task.
'The Arabians do not like Prince Deran, Peter,' she said firmly. 'From his childhood he has been detested for his selfishness and arrogance. They will want—and they deserve—another kind of King.'
'But if, by a miracle, the Prince should be healed, might he not change his ways and become acceptable?' argued Peter.
'It is not for me to say,' replied Fara.
'You remember what happened to the rich Zacchaeus? How the people's hatred of him was changed to loyalty and affection when Jesus redeemed him?'
Fara slowly nodded her head, without looking up.
'I'll go with you, Peter, in the morning,' she said.
* * * * * *
'A Jew, you say?' sneered Rennah. 'The Prince would not tolerate the sight of him!' She sat up indignantly. 'How like you Jews to mock us in our distress!'
Fara had experienced no difficulty in gaining an audience with the Queen, who was curious to learn what had induced the girl to visit her. Supine on her couch she had stared crossly without speaking when Fara was shown in. Wasting no time on insincere amenities, Fara had briefly stated her errand. A friend of hers, a man possessed of divine power to heal, had come from a great distance to see the Prince. The man waited without. He hoped he could help the Prince as he had helped other men. He wanted no money.
'And where did you become acquainted with this—this God?'
'In Galilee, Your Majesty. He is a Jew.'
That had brought Rennah up in a towering rage. With fine scorn she had voiced her opinion of Fara's impudence, and was pointing a trembling finger toward the door.
'There is a legend among the Syrians,' said Fara, undisturbed by the Queen's anger, 'about their famous warrior-king, Naaman, who contracted leprosy. Learning of a Jewish prophet, who had been endowed with the power to heal diseases, Naaman reluctantly besought this Jew to cure him, and was told to bathe in the Jordan River. This was an unthinkable humiliation to the celebrated Syrian, and he started home enraged beyond any words to tell of it. But—he was a leper and there was no help or hope for him, at all. So he turned back and bathed in the Jordan—and was healed.'
'Nonsense!' screamed Rennah. 'Get out of here! You and your holy Jew! Go—I say—go!'
Fara bowed and moved toward the door. Rennah suddenly rose to her feet and followed her, clutching her arm.
'No!' she muttered hoarsely. 'You shall not go! I forbid you to go!' She burst out crying. 'Bring him in!' With that, the hysterical woman rushed to the door of the Prince's bed-chamber and entered. There was the sound of voices, Rennah's softly wheedling, Deran's shrill with scorn; Fara stepped out into the entry and beckoned to Peter, who followed her through to the Prince's room, where the Queen nervously admitted them.
'Deran,' she said, steadying her voice, 'here is the Jewish healer who has come all this way from his own country to help you.'
Peter moved toward the bed.
'And since when,' stormed Deran, 'has Arabia sought favours from the Jews?'
'My son, I am not here as a Jew.' Peter's calm, resonant voice seemed to drive the anger from the Prince's sunken eyes. 'Nor have I come,' he went on quietly, 'to minister to an Arabian. We are two fellow men, both of us God's children. Let us forget our nationality now, and treat each other as brothers.' He reached out his hand to take Deran's. Instinctively the Prince recoiled, withdrawing his hand; but, on second thoughts, slowly and reluctantly offering it.
Rennah drew in closer. She was weeping quietly.
'You are in great trouble, Deran,' continued Peter. 'There is no earthly cure for your disease. If you are to regain your health and strength the remedy must come from our Father. I have no power of my own. Whether it is the will of God that you should be restored to rule your country, I do not know. Perhaps that decision rests with you.'
'What do you want him to do?' broke in Rennah.
'A King should desire and deserve the respect of his people,' declared Peter, ignoring the Queen's query and searching the Prince's eyes. 'As a Prince, you have been vain and froward of heart. My Master taught that whoever would become great among men should be as a servant, and whoever would be the greatest of all should be servant of all. You, Deran, have served no one but yourself.'
'Sir,' interrupted Rennah, 'that is no way to speak to a Prince!'
Deran made an impatient gesture in her direction.
'Say on!' he mumbled.
'Now if it should please God to heal you,' continued Peter, 'it will be a miracle, and if you should win the devotion and obedience of your people, that too will be a miracle. Are you willing to accept both of these benefits? If it is the will of God, you may have both—or neither. Will you promise that if your strength is restored you will serve your country unselfishly?'
Deran soberly nodded his head. There was an impressive silence.
'Be well aware,' cautioned Peter, 'that if, in the days to come, you forget your vow, and turn again to your unseemly ways, a worse affliction may befall you.'
Again the Prince solemnly nodded his head. Instantly Peter startled them by stretching forth both his huge hands. Clutching Deran's arms, he sat him up in bed; and, raising his voice to a tone of command, he shouted, 'In the name of God, stand up on your feet—and walk!'
No place had ever been so quiet during the brief moment that followed. Slowly, bewilderingly, Deran put his feet out on the floor, and stood erect. Rennah threw her arms around him and sobbed. Fara's eyes were wet. The Prince pushed his mother aside and walked slowly across the room. Peter sank heavily into a chair. His face was pale and great beads of sweat stood on his forehead. Fara moved to his side and laid her hand on his shoulder. Rennah, with tears of joy running down her cheeks, fell on her knees before him and cried, 'We shall repay you! Whatever you ask, we will give it! What would you have?'
'A drink of water, please,' murmured Peter huskily.
Little was said after that. Deran was pacing about, his face alight. Rennah was bringing his clothing and boots. They were too preoccupied with their good fortune to notice that Peter and Fara had slipped quietly away.
* * * * * *
He was visibly annoyed by the servants' stares when they came to serve luncheon to him and his mother. When the maids offered him dishes, at arm's length, he growled, 'One would think you were serving a ghost!'
'Please don't be impatient with them, son,' begged Rennah. 'It is no small matter that you are walking again.'
'I would have recovered—in time,' said Deran airily. 'I was feeling better. I lacked confidence; that was all. The old Jew pulled me up—and I found I could walk. That's about all there is to it.'
'Even so—if I were you I shouldn't resent it if the people are surprised to see you out again,' admonished Rennah.
'Why should I care what they think!' muttered Deran.
After he had eaten, the Prince swaggered out to the paddocks, to be greeted by the silent, open-mouthed awe of the stable-boys.
'This is amazing, sire!' exclaimed old Kedar, limping forward.
'Saddle my sorrel mare!' commanded Deran.
Rennah had followed him out. She stood soberly watching as he bounded into the saddle and rode away at a gallop. Then she turned and slowly retraced her steps, with bent head and drooping shoulders.
Back in her own room, she sat motionless, leaning far forward with her knuckles pressed hard against her teeth. Deran had no intention of keeping his vow to the Jewish healer. It wasn't in Deran to change his nature. It was too much to expect of him. He was a high-spirited, proud young Prince. It was his destiny to rule his people. Any sign of sympathy or friendship on his part would be mistaken for weakness. The Arabians needed a firm hand to govern them; not an outstretched hand, but a closed fist!
Yes; but the mysterious Jew was still to be reckoned with. In a few hours he would learn that Deran had repudiated his promise. Then what? If this miracle-worker had the power to put Deran on his feet he probably had the power to put him to bed again. He had solemnly declared that the Prince must keep his pledge, or a worse affliction might befall him. In God's name, what could be worse?
Rennah's mind was in tumult. Something must be done promptly or the potent Jew might put a curse on Deran! He must be got out of the country! Now!
She walked determinedly to her desk, drew out a sheet of papyrus, and wrote in large, sprawling letters:
'Fara: Much as the Prince appreciates the kindness of your Jewish prophet, we are aware, as you doubtless are yourself, that there is bitter enmity between the Jews and the Arabians. Already there is muttering among our people that our Prince shall not be beholden to a Jew for his recovery. For the old prophet's protection—for Deran does not want anything to happen to him—it is important that he leave the country forthwith! Let there be no delay! I am sending, with this note, a purse of gold. Give it to this man—and tell him to go! Perhaps it would be well if you accompanied him. You may not be safe here when it is learned that you brought the Jew to Arabia.'
* * * * * *
Less than two hours after the return of Peter and Fara to her home, Rennah's letter, accompanied by the bag of gold coins, arrived. Shortly afterward Voldi came. His face was serious. He had stopped at the royal encampment and old Kedar had told him everything. The three of them studied the letter. Peter's only comment was, 'God will not be mocked!'
'It is obvious,' said Voldi, 'that the Queen made this up. However, her advice should be taken. Peter is in danger not because he is a Jew but because he miraculously restored the Prince after Arabia was assured that he had been disqualified from acceding to the throne.'
'You are right, Voldi,' agreed Fara. 'And I shall go with him. It is quite impossible for me to remain here any longer.'
So it was decided that Peter and Fara should start early the next morning for Gaza and take passage on a ship. It was now at the height of the season for grain shipments to Rome and they might be lucky enough to sail without much delay on some craft that called at Piraeus, the port of Athens. Voldi impulsively resolved to go too.
'In his present mood,' explained Voldi, 'the Prince will not object to my absence.'
All through the night, preparations went forward for departure in the morning. Voldi rode to the royal encampment and confided their intentions to Kedar, who took it upon himself to organize a pack-train to carry Fara's and Ione's belongings to the port. Assured that the Queen had commanded them to clear out, Kedar felt himself on safe ground to give his full aid to their departure.