Free Secret Magdalene by Ki Longfellow

these among you?” he asks.
    There comes a great stirring among the men of the settlement. Most of them know us; all know Seth and Addai. I cannot follow so many minds at once—what are they thinking? Simon has asked the men holding us to bring us closer. “Mere boys, eh? You would hear the talk of men?”
    Salome does not dare to open her mouth. If this man were to find we are not boys, but girls, what should he do? What should all these men do? Simon turns his huge face to mine. I am close enough to smell his breath, made rotten by the stump of a broken eyetooth. I am so close he can poke me in the chest, saying, “Speak up, boy!” As he touches me, there comes over his face a puzzlement. His thoughts have not caught up with what the flesh of his finger is telling him, but they might.
    “Tell me your name so I should not forget it. And tell me the name of this other, so that I might not forget his name.”
    Salome finds the strength and the wit to say, “His name is John of the family of Seth of Damascus. My name is Simon of the family of Seth of Damascus. He is my brother. Why do you question him?”
    I am amazed at how she sounds—like a proud youth caught in a prank.
    At the name of Seth of Damascus, the eyes of this Simon narrow. “Seth of Damascus,” he mutters more to himself than to us, “how comes young kin of a Maccabee to the wilderness?” And then, with a suddenness that catches me completely unprepared, he grabs my upper arm and shakes me, glaring about the campsite, picking out faces in the intently listening crowd. “Is there a Maccabee here? Is there another who is blood to such?”
    My thoughts scramble for grip. Seth is a Maccabee? Our Seth is come from the Great Family of Heroes who took back the Temple of Solomon and seized the throne of Israel for the first time since the days of David and Solomon! By all the stars, how wonderful! Is not Hanukkah observed to celebrate the rededication of the Temple by Judas Maccabeus? And yet how sad. For the Maccabee were later sought out and killed by Herod the Great. No wonder Seth is held in such high regard!
    A great fuss comes among the men of the settlement as someone pushes forward from the back. I pray it is Seth, and breathe again as they make room for his coming because it
is
Seth. Right behind him walks Addai. And though my joy at their arrival is immense, I find that I am still privy to the thoughts of Simon. This Galilean is a jumble of contradictions. He is both brave as a bull, yet craven as a stoat. He believes himself a man of vision, yet longs to see. He would follow the first man who promised him what his heart desires, but he could not name his heart’s true desire. He is full of hatred, yet yearns to know love. I pity him. I am afraid of him because he would crush my pity if he knew it. To him, Addai as a Samaritan is not worth a single thought, but he knows Seth. He fears him. He wonders: Could this man lead to the coming king? Could he be that king? Should he align himself with a Maccabee? Or shun him?
    I have never touched a mind so calculated and so conflicted.
    “I am kin, Simon Peter of Galilee,” says Seth. “Is there reason you find fault with John and with Simon? If so, I shall answer for them.”
    With a gesture, Seth requires Simon to loose his grip and I find I am as well released from Simon’s thoughts. The relief could not be more profound. As Addai gathers us up, pushes us away, my last glimpse of Seth is as he speaks to a man who has stood beyond the light of the fire, one who comes forward, and places his hand on Seth’s shoulder while all others give them room. Eloi, but I have seen him before! I have seen also the one who shadows him, as alike to his brother as one grain of millet is to another. The brothers have hair and beard of Thracian red, and I saw them last standing near to Simon of Capharnaum as he stabbed the Temple priest not once, but thrice. As I am pulled away, I hear Seth name them in greeting: