“They’re coming!” squealed Susanna. Dressed in fine Egyptian linen, her hair entwined with small white morningstar flowers, she jumped from her perch at the end of the street and jumped excitedly into Miri’s arms. The land was dark, but the full moon picked out the white roofs of Yerushalayim. And below them as they sat at the ridge of the Mount of Olives, all of Yerushalayim was alight with the bonfires of Lag B’Omer. The twinkling torches of the celebrants wound their way to various destinations, making it extremely difficult to determine if Chuza and his grooms were approaching. Suddenly Susanna’s little eyes caught an approaching wedding party crossing the darkened valley from the Lion’s Gate. Miri and Susanna hurried back to the house where her family awaited anxiously for news of the approaching groom.

     “He’s coming!” shouted Susanna. “He’s coming!”

     Immediately, the house erupted into a frenzy of preening and grooming each other and smoothing and rearrangement of clothing. This activity lasted at a frenetic pace for a short while and ended with all posing in order to receive the groom’s party. Of course, it was much too early for their arrival, and so a nervous flurry of grooming erupted again. A cycle was established.

     “Oh! I can’t stand this!” cried Yohanna, “I wish it was over!”

     Nonetheless, they had to wait. Susanna ran constantly back and forth to the end of the lane and to look out for Chuza’s approach. Her delighted squeal signaled the appearance of the Groom’s party, and the frenzied activity of preening began anew for the umpteenth time, but it was another groom and the procession passed them by. Moments later, though, the tramping of feet and a louder, more boisterous chorus reached their ears. Martha fussed about her mother. This time, though, Miri ran to Susanna at her post, and seeing Chuza and his friends finally coming, grasped Susanna’s hand and raced back to the house.

     “It’s him!” she gushed.

     This time, Martha lowered the wedding veil over Yohanna’s face.

     “Check the lamp!” ordered Yohanna.

     “It’s lit!” said Sister Miriam in annoyance, for it was not the first time Yohanna had ordered her to make sure the lamp was burning in the window.

     “Check it!” demanded Yohanna. The tension was building and it was her day to demand that all be perfect. Sister Miriam was stopped from having to perform the task by the sound of a bronze trumpet announcing the approach of Chuza’s party. The glorious sound of men singing reached their ears and a knock echoed in the courtyard.

     “He’s here!” whispered Yohanna, her excitement no longer contained, “I’m going to pee myself!”

     With that she disappeared, leaving everyone wondering what to do next.

     “Answer the door!” said Yusef.

     Eleazar ran to the wooden gate and asked rather formally, “Who is without?”

     The men outside began to chant, “Open the door! Open the door!”

     “It is Chuza bar Malichi, come to claim his bride, Yohanna of Bethany!”

     “You have the marriage contract?” Eleazar.

     “I have the contract!” replied Chuza.

     “You have the ring?” called Eleazar

     “I have the ring!”

     “Then enter, Chuza bar Malichi,” called out Eleazar as he slid back the bolt, “And claim your bride!”

     With that, he flung open the door.

     The men poured into the courtyard with a great cheer, and Chuza stepped forward to present the contract to Eleazar. Eli pretended to read the contract for he could not concentrate while the men of the groom’s party gathered about him and sang a rousing song about the Sons of Israel and danced arm in arm about him. He continually glanced about for a sign of Yohanna, but she didn’t surface. He smiled weakly at Chuza.

     “She’s not quite ready, yet,” he said meekly.

     “Not ready?” asked Chuza in shock. He had not expected his bride to be late for her wedding.

     “She,” said Eli slowly. “She had to pee!”

     There was an uncomfortable pause, not noticeable to anyone else in the courtyard, for the men still danced in their circle.

     “She’s really excited!” said Eli in a poor attempt to explain his mother’s bladder weakness.

     Chuza smiled expansively. “Then we shall wait!” he said magnaminously, and hugged Eli.

     The other men took this as a sign the contract had been accepted and they brought forward twin sedan chairs.

     Fortunately, Yohanna, dressed in white linens, silk and Damascus brocade, veiled and bedecked with gold coins appeared at the same moment in the doorway. Miri and the others, also dressed in white escorted her to her sedan. She climbed aboard and Chuza mounted his sedan and the women joined in the groom’s songs and the procession was on the way.

     It was a long way from Bethany to the Bezetha, the Hellene Quarter of Yerushalayim. The men took shifts carrying the bride and groom as the procession wound its way down the Mount of Olives, through the Garden of Gesthemane, in through the Sheep’s Gate and past the Roman fortress of Antonia. Beyond the old walls, they danced into the suburbs. Along the way, passers by waved and cried out blessings on the couple, and waved palm fronds at their passing. The night was one of great celebration and everywhere they looked, the Lag B’Omer bonfires blossomed like fireflowers in the dark night. Their passing brought cheers from the groups standing about nearby fires, and myrtle branches waved fragrant luck toward them.

     Miri was overwhelmed by the excitement the night brought. It was as though all of Israel had come out of doors in order to witness the union of her sister and her betrothed. Her eyes filled with tears. Finally, they arrived at Chuza’s home, where his father and mother stood by the gate awaiting the return of their son and his new bride.

     Chuza’s parents, resplendent in crimson and green, awaited the procession and the sedan chairs were laid before them. Servants pulled back the gates, and Chuza and Yohanna stepped forward to be welcomed by her in-laws. Bride and groom stood side by side, and turned to face each other.

     The crowd fell silent as Chuza lifted Yohanna’s veil, and they cheered as her face was shown to all. Chuza lowered Yohanna’s veil and Malichi, Chuza’s aging father stepped forward, using a cane and took Yohanna’s hand and placed it in Chuza’s outstretched palm. Another cheer went up and everyone followed the father, mother, bride and groom into their new home.

     Miri was amazed by the intricate decorations that festooned Chuza’s quarters. Garlands of flowers and myrtle hung from the walls of his estate, lit by thousands of flickering torches. Floral bouquets, both cut and living, stood everywhere. The garden was arranged for a great banquet and the tables piled high with food. It rivaled the best Imperial dinners she had attended, and the bridal canopy was a grand gold embroidered white linen tent in the Nabatean style.

     In an open pit before the canopy, a charcoal fire glowed burned bright red. The smell of rich incense wafted up from the pit. Miri had provided much of the spice that smoldered in the fire, even though Chuza had insisted upon paying her, she had agreed only to do so at cost, though she didn’t mention the actual sum for she had received agreement from Haritar for passage for the Heart of The Isis for ten per cent of the cargo and her silence as to the true source and cost of the spices she carried. Malichi threw a great handful of frankincense into the pit and the coals sparkled below as the stars twinkled above, and the bride and groom approached the fire. To the fire, he added sandalwood and cinammon.

     Yohanna stepped over the pit and holding Chuza by his left hand walked counterdexter about the fire. A grate was thrown down over the pit and Chuza stepped onto the metal. He stood stoically over the coals as Yohanna swiftly circled seven times about her beloved as he roasted his feet over the fire. He stood down and she settled to his right hand. Thrones were carried to the front of the canopy by two respected members of the Sanhedrin and bride and groom took their places on the thrones. Each elder placed a crown of flowers upon the head of the bride and groom. Yohanna and Chuza sat together as Eleazar approached, marriage contract in hand. Duly signed by his hand, he handed the contract to Chuza who passed it to each of the elders to be witnessed, and that done, it was handed to a cantor who literally sang out the conditions of the contract to the congregation. That done, the scroll was handed to Yohanna who rolled it tight and tucked it within her sleeve.

     Chuza took her hand and slipped a gold band about her right hand index finger.

     “My beloved, thou art thus joined with me under the laws of Musah, and the consent of Israel. With this ring, I pledge my allegiance to thee.”

     The crowd broke into cheers and clapping as both Yohanna and Chuza were presented with a large glass goblet of wine. They linked arms and began to drink to the chanted encouragement of the guests. It was expected that they finish the goblets in one draught, and though Chuza managed quite easily, Yohanna choked about halfway through hers and broke the connection between the goblet and her lips in order not to spill the deep ruby wine upon her pristine white robes.

     Though the theory was that the single draught predicted a long and harmonious marriage, its importance had long been ignored, and a ripple of laughter and more clapping ran through the wedding party. Yohanna knocked back the last of the wine, and in unison, Chuza and his bride threw the glasses at the fire. The glass shattered on the brazier and a cheer went up from the crowd.

     Immediately, the hired musicians broke into a rousing hora, and the crowd began to chant for the nuptials to begin.

     Yohanna and Chuza were now married. The chanting and rhythmic clapping increased and the two witnesses pulled back the curtain to the tent behind the canopy to reveal the white-sheeted bridal bed, bedecked with white and red flowers. To great encouragement, Chuza and Yohanna retired to the bridal chamber to consummate their marriage. Catcalls and good-natured teasing broke from the throats of the crowd, as the curtains closed.

     One by one the guests threw down myrtle branches and offerings to be burnt in the fire as the couple within were encouraged in their lovemaking.

     Within the tent, the sound from outside was thankfully masked by the hanging tapestries that acted as baffles and absorbed most sound. Chuza removed Yohanna’s veil, and gently stroked her hair.

     “I love you,” he said softly.

     “And I you,” replied Yohanna. “Kiss me!”

     They did not emerge for a full hour.

     “Where are they?” asked Susanna, “Can we go see them?”

     “We shall see them when they are ready,” replied Miri and enticed Susanna with a honey cake. She was however, undeterred and every few moments asked Miri, “Are they ready yet?”

     “Not yet, Lambkins,” replied Miri an interminable number of times.

     Miri tired of answering Susanna’s constant questioning, and decided to take her for a walk. She had no need to witness the blood soaked sheets, for she had prepared a vial of sheep’s blood for Yohanna to soil the bridal sheets to be displayed when the couple emerged.

     Sister Miriam noticed Miri and Susanna heading for the gates and intercepted them.

     “Where are you going?” she asked Miri.

     “”We’re going to see the bonfires,” replied Susanna.

     “I’ll go with you,” said Sister Miriam quickly. Miri sensed her niece was not comfortable, and she assumed it was the thought of her mother in the bridal bed.

     “It is not always as bad as it was for you,” said Miri gently.

     “Let’s go!” snapped Sister Miriam.

     The streets were alive with celebrants. Miri felt at home instantly, and there was no sense of danger in the crowds for the people were in family groups. There seemed to be a general direction that the crowds were traveling, so Miri went with the flow. They were in luck. They came within a large square beside a pool, and a grand bonfire had been built and blazed grandly within a circle of admiring participants. Within the circle a number of small boys sat while their hair was being cut. Once their head was shaved, their guardians were presented with an armful of hair to throw into the flames. Applause greeted each successful burning. Soon the crowd began to dance about the fire, and Miri and Susanna coerced Sister Miriam into joining them and soon even the dour Sister Miriam was laughing with the others as they danced this way, and then that.

     “We should get back,” said Miri as they took a break from the dance.

     “Are they out of the tent yet?” asked Susanna.

     Miri laughed. “I hope so!”

     “It’s disgusting!” complained Sister Miriam.

     “It’s how we all got here!” teased Miri.

     “I don’t think so!” said Sister Miriam.

     “Ah, so you’re the product of Immaculate Conception?” asked Miri as she lifted Susanna into her arms.

     Sister Miriam was irritated, but kept her silence.

     They turned into the street, and soon Miri realized she was lost. The narrow streets of Yerushalayim were so narrow and twisted about, their complexity completely confused the senses even in the daytime, but now in the dark, they were a sinister and befuddling maze of dead ends. For some strange reason, it seemed no one was about, and the entire city seemed deserted.

     “Where are we?” Sister Miriam asked.

     Miri looked down one alley and saw nothing, and neither the direction from which they came or the direction in which they were traveling seemed familiar.

     “We’re lost,” said Sister Miriam, crossing her arms, “Aren’t we?”

     “We’re lost?” asked Susanna.

     Miri sighed. “I think we’d better find our way back to the bonfire, then ask from there.”

     “Why are there no people here?” asked Susanna.

     “I’m not sure, Lambkins,” replied Miri slowly.

     “I don’t like this!” shivered Sister Miriam.

     Holding each other tightly they made their way through the deserted street. Every twist and turn seemed to take them deeper into darkness. Suddenly they reached a small gate tended by an elderly guard. He was fast asleep. Miri poked him and he awoke with a start.

     “Where are we?” she asked.

     “What?” he asked a little dazed. He was not fully awake.

     “We’re lost,” said Sister Miriam. “We have to get to the house of Chuza!”

     “The House of who?” asked the befuddled guard.

     “Chuza!” said Sister Miriam impatiently.

     “I have never heard of him,” said the guard.

     “In which quarter does he live?”

     “In the Hellene Quarter.”

     “Well, you can go through this gate and then to the right, but I would not advise young women to travel this way alone!”

     “We will take our chances,” said Miri, “Can you open the gate for us?”

     “I will need your names,” he said.

     “Miriam!” said Miri.

     “Of?” asked the gatekeeper.

     “Magadha!” snapped Miri, impatient at the delay.

     “Never heard of it!” retorted the guard.

     “Nor of Chuza,” replied Miri testily, “But they both exist!”

     The gatekeeper ignored her jibe.

     “And you?” he asked turning to Miri’s niece.

     “Miriam,” she answered.

     “Also of Magadol?”

     “Magadha!” corrected Sister Miriam.

     “I see,” said the gatekeeper, “And your business here?”

     “We are going to a wedding!” snapped Sister Miriam.

     “At the house of Chuza,” finished the guard.

     “They’re immaculately concepting!” piped in Susanna, “And we have to get back before they finish!”

     “Of course,” replied the gatekeeper. He slipped from his place in a niche by the gate, and slid back the bolt. The door was low and narrow, obviously designed to allow only one person at a time through it. Both Miriam and Miri had to bend to pass through the passageway through the city wall. Susanna scampered ahead.

     “Susanna!” called Miri, “Wait!”

     The little girl paid no heed, and disappeared into the dark corridor.

     Miri ran after her, but had not reached the end of the passage before the narrow cleft echoed with Susanna’s terrified scream. She and Sister Miriam exploded out from the wall and stopped short. Susanna stood motionless staring in horror up at a man hanging from a cross.

     He was still alive.

     “Help me!” he croaked, his voice barely audible.

     Blood dripped slowly from terrible wounds caused by flagellation, and in parts, his skin hung in tattered pieces from his torso. He had been nailed to the cross bar, and two iron nails were hammered through the flesh between the ulna and radius of his wrist. And his legs pinned by another iron stake through his ankles. His eyes had rolled back into his head.

     “Help!” he whispered hoarsely.

     “I can’t!” said Susanna, “I’m too small!”

     “Water!” the man said.

     Sister Miriam scooped the little girl in her arms. “We have no water!” she said defensively.

     “I thirst!” cried the crucified man.

     Overcome by his plight, Miri stepped forward.and touched the man’s leg.

     “I cannot help you!” she said.

     “I am dying!” he said.

     The executioner’s ladder still leaned against the cross, and Miri climbed it until her face reached his.

     “Kill me!” he pleaded, “I have no wish to die so alone!”

     Miri looked deep into his eyes, and was filled with compassion. “What is your name?” she asked softly. He had a thick Galilean accent

     “Yeshua!” he whispered, and began to cough. He spit up blood.

     “Then you shall not die alone, Yeshua!” she whispered, “Your sins are forgiven!” and took his head in her hands and kissed his dried lips. The moistness of her mouth relieved his parched tongue, and in a sudden rush he was relieved from his suffering. Her mouth filled with his blood, Miri’s hands wrapped about his neck and squeezed tight, and she held him there for a short time until he died. His Soul wafted up through her and he was free.

     No one spoke as she descended the ladder.

     “It is done!” she said.

     “You killed him!” whispered Sister Miriam in horror.

     “He was dying, and needed my help!”

     “You killed him?” asked Susanna.

     Miri shot and angry glance at Sister Miriam.

     She bent down and picked up Susanna. “He was almost dead, sweetie. He needed my help to pass through to the other side!”

     Sister Miriam snorted.

     “You think you’re above the Law, Miriam?” she asked. “It is up to God whether a man lives or dies!”

     “What would you have me do?” demanded Miri, “Have you water to quench his thirst? Bread to stave his hunger? Balm to heal his wounds? An eternal refuge for his Soul to rest? Shall we cut him down and give him shelter from his pain? Can you tell me that?”

     Sister Miriam remained tight lipped.

     “Say nothing of this!” commanded Miri, and carried Susanna northward away from Golgotha. Sister Miriam stood before the cross, staring after her aunt. Miri stopped and turned to her niece. “Follow me!” she called.

     Sister Miriam glanced briefly up at the corpse hanging from the cross. The man was dead, and the horror she had felt at his suffering no longer held her heart. Compassion for his end becalmed her, and she followed in Miri’s footsteps.

     The wedding party was in full swing by the time they returned. Yohanna and Chuza were dancing happily amongst the guests, and the great joy of the wedding party jarred the senses of Miri and Sister Miriam. Susanna, on the other hand squealed in delight and made a beeline for Yohanna to join their dance. Miri and Sister Miriam exchanged a brief look. Miri reached out to touch her niece, but Sister Miriam pulled away and melted into the shadows to avoid the crush of the party.

     Eli, a little under the influence of the wine, hugged Miri and pulled her into the dance. Though her feet were heavy, Miri managed to dance with her nephew, and then was passed from dancer to dancer until she could make her way to a table where she could dip a chalice into a wine crater. She swilled the first sip in her mouth and swallowed to rid her of the taste of blood in her mouth. It didn’t help. For some reason the wine tasted of blood and she took another sip. The second draught tasted of blood as well. She stared into the bronze cup. In the firelight, the wine was dark and deep, and even looked like blood. She swilled the liquid in the goblet and drank again. Blood. Again. Blood. She poured another. Still blood!

     She threw the goblet angrily to the ground.

     It clattered across the flagstones, and all about her stared in amazement at her anger. Her actions caught the attention of Yohanna, but her bride’s duties kept her from investigating the cause of Miri’s discomfort, but Miri’s anger caused a ripple through a perfect night, and Yohanna was concerned.

     She found Miri later in the night sitting alone in a private corner of the garden on a marble bench.

     “Most of the guests have gone!” she said as she joined her sister.

     Miri, her arms folded across her breasts, remained silent.

     “What is wrong?” Yohanna asked.

     “Everything!” growled Miri, “The world is cruel and inhumane!”

     “Oh that!” said Yohanna lightly. “So, are you going to change it?”

     Miri glanced up at her older sister.

     “Perhaps,” she said angrily, “Perhaps I will!”