Chapter 33 - The priestess

How many sought me and had not found me? How many sick people came to a stumble under the walls of Jerusalem to die there, while I was in Capernaum? People looked for me in Samaria, but I was in Galilee. It was rumored that I had arrived in Gischala, but I remained domiciled in Chorazin. The reason was my talentless doubles, plus the fact that there was no way I could settle quietly in one place. At times it seemed as if this collection of false Jezus would outlive me and its illusory existence would continue for centuries, changing skin color, facial features, habits and methods of deceiving people.

These non-valeurs were willing to serve anything but the truth: the state, the temple, the emperor in person, the heavenly legion, the blessed Februus and Sabazios, the calf of Aaron, and the kind of reverence behind which there was no higher purpose. A false Messiah would never be without canned wine, and without hot flat, barley sandwiches with honey, but could he even help someone heal an ulcer, step blood or pull a rotten tooth without someone subsequently dying from it?

Unlike many other people because the next woman wanted me in Chorazin, not because I had helped her, but to help myself. At least she meant it. And she approved of her visit with dignity.

One afternoon I returned from the lake, having caught some fish so that Gita would fry them according to her recipe, along with her wonderful fish sauce of oil, vinegar and flour. From afar I saw an armed crowd at the house and I was terrified, thinking that warriors of the tetrarch from Tiberias were coming to arrest me, or elders of the sanhedrin had sent an arrest unit from Jerusalem, to finally deal with me.

Already I wanted to throw my basket of fish more and flee into the impenetrable thicket on the northern slope in front of the city gate, and wait out the danger in the maze of paths and decide what to do next, but when I looked more closely, I understand that these people did not look like Jews or Romans, but in all probability were foreigners. Moreover, their camel days were as heavily laden as if they had been traveling for a long time.

And I pointed my modest homeward. A woman wearing an overgarment of blue sea silk detached herself from the crowd and approached me. I understood that she was the most important of these people. Her entourage waited at a reverent distance.

"Hello, Jesus, I am Tachmina, and I come to bring you the light of the world!" she said radiantly in Hellenic, and she smiled.

By way of reply, I smiled diffidently, surprised at the turn of events, and waited to see what she would say next. Her overgarment was constricted on her chest with a golden buckle shaped like the spread wings of a bird. Attached to her wide, woven belt was a bunch of tamarind sticks that tapped melodiously as she walked. At her dry feet were high boots of silver-plated leather. She was small in stature, with a finely carved figure and green eyes, in which green threads glittered, her gaze was enchanting, and I felt with amazement that it made me unspeakably happy to mother her just to look at me. With all my willpower I bear this temptation away from me, one was not allowed to fall like a log for the first magic woman.

'I am a priestess of the pale Ahura Mazda,' she continued. 'I made a trip to Rome, from the Kingdom of Kush, together with the envoys of our king, and on the way back I heard miraculous things about you in Damascus. The envoys went home, but I decided to make my appearance with you Jesus.'

"Illiterate members spread rumors about me that turn into fairy tales," I said. "Where are you hurting?

"No, I am in glowing health!" she exclaimed, and she laughed again, taking me by words with her gaze. 'I want to share the light of Ahura Mazda with you.'

I put the basket of fish on the floor. That was a surprise. I was rather curious to see what dialectical tricks this bewitching woman would play to get me into the nets of her little-understood deity. And I also thought that where in our community I would probably stare into Tachmina's eyes, I might well die of happiness. For that reason alone, perhaps it was worth accepting Achura Mazda's light in thanks....

'The goodness of Ahura Mazda is absolute!' my guests continued in hasty oppression. 'He is the greatest, he is the oldest and the youngest, he knows the past and the present, he is the personification of justice and love, he has created the space of the world... He is the ruler of thought who bestows humility, he is man to brother and father, such a loving father, and we must not forsake this possibility, because only Ahura Mazda is the key to salvation...'

"What makes Ahura Mazda better than the God of the Jews?" I asked, for I did find the conversation entertaining.

'He sent his son Zarathustra!' she exclaimed. 'And Zarthustra became a great prophet, through whom among the holy Scriptures have received...'

'Our God also sent a prophet to earth,' I replied.

"Then who?

"Me.

Tachmina's mouth fell open in surprise. She didn't know if it was my fear or if I was making fun of her. I grabbed my leaf-covered basket of fish, put my arm around Tachmina and said, "Let's continue the conversation inside, and you'll immediately eat a fish that God's son caught for you.

Gita and Tali left the service but did the most delicious delicacies for the female guest to crank out from their cellars, and even kegs of stubborn wine from Chios that went to our table had traveled a less long way than Tachmina did to see me.

She had servants standing by and a dozen powerful bodyguards who looked so fearsome that they probably could have taken a small town without a fight. Woe and death awaited the miscreants who wanted to raid Tachmina's caravans.

Her small army is looking for its tents in the garden next to the house.

At the dis, Tachmina started talking about her faith again, my students asking her a large amount of questions, and she answered them patiently.

Phillippus understood little of the Greek in which I was talking to her, and he asked me to ask her if they had houses of worship there with him. I translated his question.

"We have a crowd of magnificent temples where the holy light burns day and night.'

'That burns with us too!" exclaimed Matthew. 'Do you offer sacrifices? Do you slaughter lambs and calves?'

'No, we are against blood sacrifices.'

'Neither is our teacher for that,' Matthew said, speaking of his beard. 'Well, Jesus ...?

'Tachmina, tell me more about Zarathustra,' I requested.

'First, you must know that when he was born he did not begin to cry, but to laugh. He was washed with cow urine and baked in a sheepskin, his brain pulsed with such power that a hand extended to his head recoiled, that already foretold his extraordinarily great wisdom... With his laughter he slayed thousands of demons, and when he was great, he received the revelation of the sinful Achura Mazda... if you would come with me, Jesus, you could read that revelation, it is kept in the temple of the fire dog in the city of Mumbai. You could become one of our great priests, I see the reflection of the divine flame in your face...'

"Do you bend your knees for dogs?" I asked in amazement, which I found endearing.

'We honor the dogs, because they are without sin and that really is to their benefit,' Tachmina said.

Matthew started chuckling, and I was embarrassed for him.

"But why a firehound?" I asked.

'That is the unburnt dog who began to beam with delight when he saw Zarathustra, and he still burns. 'And we also honor the hedgehogs,' she continued, 'which are also sinful, but they are of no use to man, but it would be unjust not to honor him just because they do not serve man...'

Gita and Tali were silent, looking at her as the messenger from another world. That was true, by the way, because the land from which she had come to us was so far away that even the most greedy and purposeful Jewish merchants had not yet reached it. Months of travel on the stars, through dead deserts and along narrow mountain paths, through fords over rivers, in constant anticipation of the attacks of hordes of normals and bandits....

We talked all evening together, well into the night, but to my great disappointment, she did not light herself to sleep with me, but alone, in a small tent set up by her servants.

Since then, the fishermen of Galilee have caught a lot of fish large and small, the naked summit of Mount Hermon has more than once secured itself in the clouds, before the depraved human eyes; there have probably been a lot of prayer services held at the altars of the dogs of Kush since then, but I still think back to my defeat with shame and sorrow, when Tachmina slipped into her tent that night and one of her guards stood me up as politely as he was implacable. The following day she left, back to the Kingdom of Kush.