Chapter 3
The Leper Bridge ~ continued from Chapter 2 | Brothers
Nitzevet played with a piece of bitumen that she held between her manicured nails and put the mortar firmly between two cracked, unbaked mud bricks in the small courtyard. She looked around her squat, two-floored home, swept the earth with her sandals and smiled.
David squirmed on the wooden stool as he watched his mother cook in a pot placed on a small clay top fed by a charcoal fire beneath.
“When?” the boy asked.
A goat “baaahed” in the back room of the first floor that was separated into three sections.
“Soon.”
She motioned him closer, and as she did her golden earrings glistened in the sliver of light that penetrated the darkness. Her bronze ram’s head bracelet moved gently.
“First you chop onions and garlic.”
She laughed as he turned away from the onions. “Then add okra, potatoes and tomatoes.”
David moved closer to the pot.
Nitzevet threw back her long, black hair and put it behind her ear. She watched him closely.
The sliver of light disappeared as the sun went down over the rolling hills and highlands that rose over the small village of Bethlehem.
“Come,” she said slowly. “Look and see.”
She whispered, “I am The Mystical Rose, the light of the burning bush that burns brighter than the sun. The light of The Rose will guide thee and the path of The Rose will lead you from east to west and beyond.”
David peered into the pot.
An early evening wind blew through the first floor of the house and lifted the corners of the reed mat that covered the earth floor.
“The Desert Rose,” David heard as he watched the pot spill over like the great sands over the desert.
Nitzevet took David gently by his head and peered into his eyes.
“I see all and will not let spirits or demons harm thee.”
David squirmed from his mother’s grasp and ran away.
Nitzevet removed the small piece of bitumen from the court- yard wall and played with it again before preparing the rest of the hulba. She broke up the vegetables, added just enough water to make a broth, then added salt and pepper.
Darkness crept upon her. The fire burned and the pot bubbled. She gently inhaled the steam that rose and felt it hot on her face and breasts. The heat took her back to her visions that at a young age drove her from her father’s tent and out to the great sands. She had taken the family’s goat and sold it to pay for passage along the eastbound trade routes that led to the city of Palms, home of Queen Zenobia. With the wind in her eyes, she pulled her headband against the breeze that blew her hopes and dreams across the sands.
She remembered the words, “Outcast to his family, a traitor to his king, divine to his people.”
Nitzevet shuddered as she stirred the pot and looked around the dark, quiet courtyard. She hesitantly glanced at the outer plaster walls made of lime.
As a young girl she did not fear the lions and bears that roamed the high plains and stalked men and sheep. She knew this and yet felt safe on her long walks in the lonely valleys, deep woods and high mountain passes.
“Nitzy,” said her father Obed as he rubbed her back. “Be careful.”
He smiled at her. He knew. The other village girls were relegated to sewing, cooking or whatever their mothers and fathers desired them to do. Their lives were hard and simple.
Nitzevet was untouched. She looked down at the stone and earth floor then sat thinking about her youth.
The Rose came full of mercy and dark judgment to Nitzevet and the caravan. The young girl ran between the slender pillars followed by the wind and sand that whispered, “You are mine.” She looked back, her long, raven hair blowing wild as she tried to escape.
“Nothing will harm thee for you are mine,” The Rose whispered. “You are mine and from you will come the one.”
Her spirit rose and she seemed to fly above the coming dark. She looked around, breathed as if never before and gulped in the sweet air that lifted her far above the world of men. Then quietly the sacred ibis perched on the stone courtyard wall and peered into the darkness. Her lips trembled as she pushed her hair behind her ears.
“Outcast, Traitor, Divine,” was scrawled on the wall. Nitzevet bowed her head and trembled.
Continue reading… Chapter 3 | Two Spirits of Man
[…] Chapter 3 The Leper Bridge ~ continued from Chapter 3 | Outcast-Traitor-Divine […]