Author's Note: Titles suck. Don't judge me by my awful ones. –A.F.
The summer sun in Galilee was a harsh master; it lashed relentlessly at the backs of those traveling over the cracked dirt roads, providing a most oppressive and difficult burden to bear. John lifted his dust-coated hand to brush the perspiration from his forehead as he squinted against the sunlight, attempting to identify the dark shapes appearing on the horizon. Under normal circumstances, the journey from Nazareth to the outskirts of Galilee would hardly seem troublesome; although young, John was a man of strength and endurance, and a much longer trip than this one would be required to cause him such fatigue. However, trekking for miles along dusty roads in the summertime did not agree with him in the slightest. Glancing around at his companions, John felt some relief upon noticing their similar exhaustion. Peter carried a sweat-drenched rag in his hand and used it to sporadically dab at the balding spot on the back of his head, which glistened with dampness and was becoming increasingly red. Directly behind John, Thomas and Andrew muttered to each other with malcontent, panting heavily as they hissed, "Are we going to stop at any point today? I do not know how much longer we can go on..." Even Judas showed some signs of weakness under the extreme conditions; his dark hair dripped with perspiration and his swarthy skin showed some uncharacteristic redness around the cheekbone area. Craning his neck to view the figure walking at the head of the group, John could not suppress a wry smile; Jesus continued to stroll along at a comfortable pace, hardly seeming to notice the heat and discomfort. "Of course he wouldn't," John thought to himself, "he always seems to be above petty physical problems like this." A swell of admiration rose within John, heartening him enough to continue plodding along the seemingly endless path, wishing to follow the example of his Master.
After what seemed like hours, the men finally halted at the outskirts of a small village. Several of the apostles sighed with gratitude, sinking onto the parched grass of a seemingly forgotten garden and panting for breath. John, however, willed himself to continue standing; strength of spirit was a virtue, and he intended to prove himself worthy. Jesus seemed to notice John's efforts, for he flashed an encouraging smile toward the young disciple before addressing the group, "You all have endured this uncomfortable journey admirably, and I thank you for your patience. We will stop in this village and find refuge for a brief time."
"But Master," sputtered Thaddeus, leaning against a tree for support as he slowly rose from his sitting position, "where shall we stay? This village is unfamiliar to us all."
Jesus responded with a nod, accompanied by an understanding smile. "Yes, this much is true. But believe me, my friends, we will find hospitality in this village. Rise now, and follow me."
John heard the apostles mutter plaintively as they lifted their weary bodies from the ground and resumed their journey into the village. At the front of the cluster, John could see Judas whispering anxiously to Jesus, his brow furrowed with confusion, while Jesus replied by placing his hand upon Judas's shoulder reassuringly. Finally, Jesus drew to a halt, and the apostles glanced around with perplexity, murmuring, "Where has he taken us? What is this place?"
John surveyed the home at which they had paused, quite amazed by its size and cleanliness. This was by far the finest house in the village: large and comfortable, with well-tended grounds. However, John soon realized the attention of his comrades was not focused on the building itself. He followed their gazes to the well on the outskirts of the grounds, where two young women appeared to be gathering water. John felt his heart beat quicken as he caught a glimpse of the women's faces; both were uncommonly attractive. They both were garbed in simple but well-made robes, so it was impossible to discern any difference in their rank, although neither seemed to be a servant. One woman was slender and statuesque, with tawny hair and a face so finely chiseled that he could hear Thomas whisper breathily, "If you told me that girl was an angel...why, I'd believe you, I would." Her companion was far smaller in height; the top of her head barely reached the shoulders of the tall maiden. Although petite and slim, this woman's figure lacked the androgynous boy-girl common among those of her height; her body was delicately curvaceous and immensely pleasant to look upon. Her hair was dusky and abundant, flowing down her back in copious waves. Her complexion was darker than that of the tall woman, with bronzed skin and long-lashed eyes that almost appeared black. John, virtuous as he was, had never experienced lust for a woman, but he could not deny that the beauty of the two at the well pleased him greatly. Peering at his companions, he could tell that the feeling was not exclusive to him alone; Peter's mouth hung open slightly as he gaped at the women, and the other apostles seemed similarly entranced, with the exception of Judas, who stared at Jesus with puzzled bewilderment.
The sandy-haired damsel soon caught sight of the group standing at the gate, and she turned to her companion, tapping the latter's shoulder and gesturing to Jesus and the apostles. The smaller woman raised a dark eyebrow inquisitively, but approached the group without apprehension, her facial expression open and welcoming. Her voice was low in pitch and almost musical as she addressed them, "Greetings, travelers. My name is Mary Magdalene, and this is my home. Can I help you in any way?"
Fervent whispers buzzed through the group of apostles, but Jesus seemed not to notice the noise as his eyes met those of Mary Magdalene. Something akin to recognition was clearly present in his expression; he understood something about this woman beyond the speculation of a stranger. "We have journeyed here from Nazareth, and the road is hot and tiring at this time of year. We request your hospitality for only a brief time."
Mary Magdalene tilted her head slightly, her large ebony eyes studying Jesus' serene face for several moments. Her expression was one of curiosity and confusion, but a smile spread across her full lips nonetheless as she replied, "Of course. You all are welcome here; please come in." She unlatched the gate, stepping to the side in order to allow the apostles to file through. However, Judas paused at the entranceway, his tone blunt and almost indolent as he spoke to the small woman, "Isn't it the decision of the master of the house whether or not to allow guests?"
Mary Magdalene's expressive eyes flashed with indignation, but her voice remained steady as she replied, "I am the master of the house, my friend. My father left his home and fortune to me after his death; everything you see belongs to me alone." Judas appeared lost for words at such a response, and John could not stifle a quiet laugh at his bewilderment. Beside him, James began to whisper excitedly, "Oh, I've heard of her! Her father died several years ago, and she's been the benefactor of this village ever since. Never thought I'd meet the Heiress of Galilee." Bartholomew, standing directly behind James, snickered lightly. "Pretty little thing, isn't she? Strange that she has no husband...I wonder what's wrong with her." Fixing his gaze upon the vivacious young woman, John could not help but wonder the same. A woman of such beauty and wealth should have been married off very early; this Mary Magdalene looked to be in her late teens, perhaps even her early twenties. However, he put his curiosity aside for the time being, following the group through the gate and into Mary Magdalene's home. Glancing to his right, John could feel his stomach clench in an unusual manner at the sight of the light-haired woman, who was walking nonchalantly beside him. His eyes met hers for a moment, and she flashed a dazzling smile towards him, causing John's cheeks to burn with bashfulness.
Mary Magdalene ushered her guests into a large and comfortable room, tastefully furnished with silken pillows and finely woven rugs. "Please, sit," said Mary Magdalene, and the apostles sighed with relief as they collapsed onto the pillows. Seating herself beside Peter (causing the latter a small amount of bashful discomfort), Mary Magdalene smiled up at her fair-haired companion, who entered the room with a tray of wine. All of the men gratefully accepted the spirits, and as she handed John his cup, the blonde woman once again offered a radiant smile that made John's heart flutter peculiarly. Mary Magdalene's shrewd black eyes clearly noticed this interaction, for John could hear her low, distinctive voice speak, "This is Leah, my dear friend who lives here with me. Leah, these are my guests." Leah nodded with acknowledgement to the men, then seated herself beside John. As the group enjoyed their wine, Mary Magdalene began to speak in a conversational tone, "From whence have you come, my friends?"
"We all hail from regions of Galilee," began Jesus, his penetrating gaze once again fixed on Mary Magdalene, "with the exception of Judas here"—he extended his hand in Judas's direction—"but we have most recently occupied the town of Nazareth."
"Ah, yes, Nazareth," replied Mary Magdalene, clearly attempting to retain composure under Jesus' unwavering gaze. "Why does he look at her like that?" wondered John, but he kept his counsel. Sitting beside Jesus, Judas quirked his eyebrow at the Master before turning his attention to Mary Magdalene, "I hope I do not seem too bold, "he commenced, his eyes gleaming with something that John could not pinpoint but did not like, "but how have you come to live in this lovely home with only another woman as your companion?"
If Mary Magdalene was offended by Judas's question, she gave no indication of such feelings. Her voice was even and calm as she responded, "My father was a very well-to-do merchant, and his trade extended far beyond Israel. Before he...before he died, he wanted to ensure that I, his only daughter, was well cared for. Because he had no brothers and no sons, he decided that the only way to secure my well-being was to leave his fortune to me. And as for why I haven't married--"Ah, thought John, so she realized the true meaning of Judas's question. Clever girl. "—my father never felt the need to pressure me into marriage, and I never considered it to be necessary. I didn't want a husband who merely cared for my dowry....I wanted to...well, I wanted to be in love." Here she laughed wryly, and John noticed Jesus nodding his head with comprehension, his expression furtive but unreadable.
"She really is very generous." John nearly jumped with surprise at the sound of a soft, feminine voice beside him, and he turned to regard the beautiful Leah, who watched him out of the corner of her blue eye. "She takes care of the entire village," continued Leah, "buying food for the hungry and clothes for the poor. People like to laugh at her, to call her unfeminine because she lives by her own means. But I have never in my life met anyone more charitable and competent than Mary Magdalene." John nodded slowly, dumbfounded by the girl's eloquence. Noting John's surprise, Leah smiled amusedly, speaking in a knowing tone, "Magdalene's father made certain that she was well-educated and literate, and Magdalene taught me everything she learned."
So fascinated by Leah was John that he scarcely noticed the nature of the conversation around him. Somehow, the topic had shifted to theology, and Peter had entered a heated debate with Mary Magdalene, who appeared to be more than equipped to effectively argue with her male opponent. "Women should not be allowed to read the Gospels!" sputtered Peter, his bald spot turning a vivid crimson as his face contorted with frustration. "They cannot possibly understand the teachings of the ancient prophets! These words were meant for educated men!" Mary Magdalene regarded Peter with great intensity, her pretty face shadowed with slight annoyance as she replied coolly, "And what of educated women? They do exist, Peter. I have been reading the Scriptures since my early childhood, and I feel fairly comfortable in my knowledge of the 'teachings of the ancient prophets.'"
"Yes, Mary Magdalene, you have certainly proven to be as well-educated in the Scriptures as any man present," said Jesus quietly, and both Peter and Mary Magdalene turned their heads to face him. "So much so, in fact, that I believe you to be open to new teachings." With a warm smile to Peter, Jesus began to preach to the group, and they all soon became immersed in his words. Glancing towards Mary Magdalene, John was slightly startled by the intensity of her expression as she watched Jesus, her luminous eyes rapt with fascination. However, the spell was soon broken by the loud pounding of Judas's fist upon the wooden floor. "Why do you speak of such things in the company of such a woman?" demanded Judas, his eyes blazing with fury as he looked upon Jesus. "This Mary Magdalene lives lavishly, with no husband or male relations, and she even requires a servant to cater to her every whim!" Judas shot a venomous glare at Leah before continuing, "She is corrupt and un-maidenly, and you should not waste your words on her!"
Mary Magdalene cast her gaze to the floor, her expression becoming that of a stricken woman. When she spoke, she did so quietly, her voice trembling with anger, "You do not know how wrong you are, Judas."
Suddenly, Leah rose from her seated position, her beautiful blue eyes fiery and indignant as she spoke, "Mary Magdalene is not corrupt or lavish! She is charitable and kind and she takes care of this village! There would BE no village without her! And as for me, I am NOT her servant! My mother was a servant to her mother, but Magdalene has always treated me as her equal and her friend. How dare you speak of her in such a way, when she has accepted you into her home and treated you with such hospitality?" Judas seemed lost for words at this outburst, but Jesus turned his cobalt gaze towards Leah, speaking slowly and placidly, "What you say is true, sister." Returning his attention to Judas, he continued, "This woman has treated us with charity and kindness, and you repay her with offensive words? This is not the way, Judas." When a subdued Judas reseated himself with some embarrassment, Jesus addressed Mary Magdalene, his voice warm and almost affectionate, "Your goodness and love for mankind is evident, Mary Magdalene. I feel honored and joyous to have met you, my sister." Lifting her gaze from the ground, Mary Magdalene replied to Jesus with a bright smile that illuminated her pretty face, rendering her almost angelic in appearance. Observing the silent exchange between Jesus and Mary Magdalene, John recognized their reciprocal acknowledgement of each other's value and importance. "This Mary Magdalene has power," thought John with contemplation, "and Jesus knows it."
Choosing not to allow Judas's unkind words to thwart her hospitality, Mary Magdalene showed the apostles to several comfortable-looking bedchambers. All of the men were anxious to finally get a full night's sleep, but their happiness was somewhat dampened by Jesus' insistence that they leave at dawn. "So early..." moaned James, plodding towards the bedchambers behind Andrew and Peter. However, the group was too exhausted to expend much energy on complaining, and they soon fell into the deep variety of sleep that only comes in situations of extreme fatigue. Unfortunately, John's slumber was soon interrupted by frantic noises coming from the corridor. Sliding out of bed, he trudged towards the doorway, peering out into the hall to discern the sound's source. To his astonishment, he saw Leah, clothed in a flimsy night-shift, clinging to Jesus and sobbing almost hysterically. He could see the other apostles leaning out of their own doorways in an effort to hear Leah's weepy words: "Please, you must come help....it's Magdalene, they've got her again..."
"Who has her, Leah?" Jesus inquired calmly, placing his hands on the young woman's shoulders and attempting to look her straight in the eyes. Lifting her ethereal, tear-stained face, Leah whispered hoarsely, "The demons. She's had them since she was a child...I think there are seven, and they torture her so. Please, please help her."
Nodding, Jesus allowed Leah to lead him to Mary Magdalene's bedchamber, and John, driven by curiosity, quietly followed, along with several other apostles. "Demons, eh? Maybe that's why she's so damned opinionated," muttered Peter sleepily as the group reached the doorway to Mary Magdalene's chamber. Peeking into the darkened room, John saw Mary Magdalene spread-eagled on her bed, her small frame convulsing and twitching in a most grotesque manner. "Poor thing," whispered Andrew, shaking his head as he watched the tormented woman writhe and moan in a strange tongue that no one could decipher. Suddenly, John felt a trembling hand on his arm, and he glanced to his right to see Leah, tears still flowing silently down her cheeks. John's arm instinctively wrapped itself around her svelte form, and he stroked her hair comfortingly as she wept into his shoulder. "They hurt her so...I cannot bear to watch it..." she murmured. "Shhhh...do not fret, Jesus can help her. I'm sure of it," replied John, surprised at his own firmness of tone. As he held Leah in his arms, John watched the events occurring in Mary Magdalene's chamber with some amazement. Jesus had taken the shaking woman in his arms, holding her firmly despite her efforts to break free. He then pressed his mouth to hers, sucking the demons out one by one. Although he had seen Jesus perform exorcisms before, John had never witnessed such a struggle within his Master; the demons seemed very reluctant to leave Mary Magdalene's body. However, the task was eventually accomplished, and John turned to Leah with a smile. "See? All is well with her now," he whispered warmly, and looking back into the room, he was surprised to see Jesus' lips still upon Mary Magdalene's. "What is he doing?" muttered Thaddeus confusedly. "Just finishing up the exorcism, I suppose," replied Peter, but his face registered some perplexity as well. Finally, Mary Magdalene returned to herself again, clinging to Jesus as Leah had done and weeping profusely as she thanked him again and again. Looking up for the first time, Jesus noticed the apostles standing in the door, and he nodded to them soberly. "She is healed; you can return to your slumber."
Still murmuring with amazement, the apostles heeded Jesus' words, but John lingered for a moment, watching Leah depart down the corridor, her steps light with relief. Turning his head away, John returned to his chamber and put on his traveling garments. Gathering up his few possessions, he exited the house and stood by the gate, staring out at the horizon. Dawn was not far away; he could already see small beams of light illuminating the sky. Leaning against the gate, John thought on what he had seen in Mary Magdalene's chamber. After the demons had been exorcised, John once again noticed the strange connection between Jesus and Mary Magdalene, something intangible and extremely powerful. The encounter had caused John to believe that this Mary Magdalene would prove important in the future; she would not merely disappear from their lives.
After bidding farewell to Mary Magdalene (Leah was nowhere to be found, to John's relief, for he knew that parting from her would be a difficult feat), the group began their journey anew, their steps sluggish and reluctant as they departed from the village. No sooner had they arrived at the village's end did they hear a woman's voice crying, "Wait! Wait!" Glancing over his shoulder, John was immensely surprised to see Mary Magdalene hurtling down the dirt path, her black hair streaming out behind her. When she finally reached the apostles, her cheeks were flushed with crimson and her brow glistened with perspiration, but she moved undaunted through the group, pausing as she reached Jesus. Squarely meeting his eyes, she spoke in a clear, resonant voice, "Please let me join you. I have learned so much from you....you have saved me. I feel---I feel that I belong here."
"But...but what about your house? Your money?" Thomas queried, pushing to the front of the group to stare goggle-eyed at Mary Magdalene.
"I left it all to Leah," she replied plainly, turning to face the apostles. "I only brought enough with me to contribute to your resources, but the rest is Leah's. I know that she will use it well." Smiling at the group of men, Mary Magdalene once again turned her attention to Jesus, and John noticed that she was wringing her hands with some anxiety, as if she feared his rejection. However, her worries were soon settled when Jesus cupped her chin in his hand, his eyes filled with love and happiness as he responded, "We welcome you among us, Mary Magdalene." John heard bemused whispering among the apostles (and a loud scoff from Judas) as Jesus softly kissed the woman's brow and took her hand in his. "Follow me," he called over his shoulder to the apostles, and as they proceeded down the path, John noticed that Jesus had not released Mary Magdalene's hand, and he seemed to have no intention of doing so in the near future. He nodded with understanding at this observation, for it affirmed what he had so strongly suspected: this Mary Magdalene would prove to be very important indeed.
The summer sun in Galilee was a harsh master; it lashed relentlessly at the backs of those traveling over the cracked dirt roads, providing a most oppressive and difficult burden to bear. John lifted his dust-coated hand to brush the perspiration from his forehead as he squinted against the sunlight, attempting to identify the dark shapes appearing on the horizon. Under normal circumstances, the journey from Nazareth to the outskirts of Galilee would hardly seem troublesome; although young, John was a man of strength and endurance, and a much longer trip than this one would be required to cause him such fatigue. However, trekking for miles along dusty roads in the summertime did not agree with him in the slightest. Glancing around at his companions, John felt some relief upon noticing their similar exhaustion. Peter carried a sweat-drenched rag in his hand and used it to sporadically dab at the balding spot on the back of his head, which glistened with dampness and was becoming increasingly red. Directly behind John, Thomas and Andrew muttered to each other with malcontent, panting heavily as they hissed, "Are we going to stop at any point today? I do not know how much longer we can go on..." Even Judas showed some signs of weakness under the extreme conditions; his dark hair dripped with perspiration and his swarthy skin showed some uncharacteristic redness around the cheekbone area. Craning his neck to view the figure walking at the head of the group, John could not suppress a wry smile; Jesus continued to stroll along at a comfortable pace, hardly seeming to notice the heat and discomfort. "Of course he wouldn't," John thought to himself, "he always seems to be above petty physical problems like this." A swell of admiration rose within John, heartening him enough to continue plodding along the seemingly endless path, wishing to follow the example of his Master.
After what seemed like hours, the men finally halted at the outskirts of a small village. Several of the apostles sighed with gratitude, sinking onto the parched grass of a seemingly forgotten garden and panting for breath. John, however, willed himself to continue standing; strength of spirit was a virtue, and he intended to prove himself worthy. Jesus seemed to notice John's efforts, for he flashed an encouraging smile toward the young disciple before addressing the group, "You all have endured this uncomfortable journey admirably, and I thank you for your patience. We will stop in this village and find refuge for a brief time."
"But Master," sputtered Thaddeus, leaning against a tree for support as he slowly rose from his sitting position, "where shall we stay? This village is unfamiliar to us all."
Jesus responded with a nod, accompanied by an understanding smile. "Yes, this much is true. But believe me, my friends, we will find hospitality in this village. Rise now, and follow me."
John heard the apostles mutter plaintively as they lifted their weary bodies from the ground and resumed their journey into the village. At the front of the cluster, John could see Judas whispering anxiously to Jesus, his brow furrowed with confusion, while Jesus replied by placing his hand upon Judas's shoulder reassuringly. Finally, Jesus drew to a halt, and the apostles glanced around with perplexity, murmuring, "Where has he taken us? What is this place?"
John surveyed the home at which they had paused, quite amazed by its size and cleanliness. This was by far the finest house in the village: large and comfortable, with well-tended grounds. However, John soon realized the attention of his comrades was not focused on the building itself. He followed their gazes to the well on the outskirts of the grounds, where two young women appeared to be gathering water. John felt his heart beat quicken as he caught a glimpse of the women's faces; both were uncommonly attractive. They both were garbed in simple but well-made robes, so it was impossible to discern any difference in their rank, although neither seemed to be a servant. One woman was slender and statuesque, with tawny hair and a face so finely chiseled that he could hear Thomas whisper breathily, "If you told me that girl was an angel...why, I'd believe you, I would." Her companion was far smaller in height; the top of her head barely reached the shoulders of the tall maiden. Although petite and slim, this woman's figure lacked the androgynous boy-girl common among those of her height; her body was delicately curvaceous and immensely pleasant to look upon. Her hair was dusky and abundant, flowing down her back in copious waves. Her complexion was darker than that of the tall woman, with bronzed skin and long-lashed eyes that almost appeared black. John, virtuous as he was, had never experienced lust for a woman, but he could not deny that the beauty of the two at the well pleased him greatly. Peering at his companions, he could tell that the feeling was not exclusive to him alone; Peter's mouth hung open slightly as he gaped at the women, and the other apostles seemed similarly entranced, with the exception of Judas, who stared at Jesus with puzzled bewilderment.
The sandy-haired damsel soon caught sight of the group standing at the gate, and she turned to her companion, tapping the latter's shoulder and gesturing to Jesus and the apostles. The smaller woman raised a dark eyebrow inquisitively, but approached the group without apprehension, her facial expression open and welcoming. Her voice was low in pitch and almost musical as she addressed them, "Greetings, travelers. My name is Mary Magdalene, and this is my home. Can I help you in any way?"
Fervent whispers buzzed through the group of apostles, but Jesus seemed not to notice the noise as his eyes met those of Mary Magdalene. Something akin to recognition was clearly present in his expression; he understood something about this woman beyond the speculation of a stranger. "We have journeyed here from Nazareth, and the road is hot and tiring at this time of year. We request your hospitality for only a brief time."
Mary Magdalene tilted her head slightly, her large ebony eyes studying Jesus' serene face for several moments. Her expression was one of curiosity and confusion, but a smile spread across her full lips nonetheless as she replied, "Of course. You all are welcome here; please come in." She unlatched the gate, stepping to the side in order to allow the apostles to file through. However, Judas paused at the entranceway, his tone blunt and almost indolent as he spoke to the small woman, "Isn't it the decision of the master of the house whether or not to allow guests?"
Mary Magdalene's expressive eyes flashed with indignation, but her voice remained steady as she replied, "I am the master of the house, my friend. My father left his home and fortune to me after his death; everything you see belongs to me alone." Judas appeared lost for words at such a response, and John could not stifle a quiet laugh at his bewilderment. Beside him, James began to whisper excitedly, "Oh, I've heard of her! Her father died several years ago, and she's been the benefactor of this village ever since. Never thought I'd meet the Heiress of Galilee." Bartholomew, standing directly behind James, snickered lightly. "Pretty little thing, isn't she? Strange that she has no husband...I wonder what's wrong with her." Fixing his gaze upon the vivacious young woman, John could not help but wonder the same. A woman of such beauty and wealth should have been married off very early; this Mary Magdalene looked to be in her late teens, perhaps even her early twenties. However, he put his curiosity aside for the time being, following the group through the gate and into Mary Magdalene's home. Glancing to his right, John could feel his stomach clench in an unusual manner at the sight of the light-haired woman, who was walking nonchalantly beside him. His eyes met hers for a moment, and she flashed a dazzling smile towards him, causing John's cheeks to burn with bashfulness.
Mary Magdalene ushered her guests into a large and comfortable room, tastefully furnished with silken pillows and finely woven rugs. "Please, sit," said Mary Magdalene, and the apostles sighed with relief as they collapsed onto the pillows. Seating herself beside Peter (causing the latter a small amount of bashful discomfort), Mary Magdalene smiled up at her fair-haired companion, who entered the room with a tray of wine. All of the men gratefully accepted the spirits, and as she handed John his cup, the blonde woman once again offered a radiant smile that made John's heart flutter peculiarly. Mary Magdalene's shrewd black eyes clearly noticed this interaction, for John could hear her low, distinctive voice speak, "This is Leah, my dear friend who lives here with me. Leah, these are my guests." Leah nodded with acknowledgement to the men, then seated herself beside John. As the group enjoyed their wine, Mary Magdalene began to speak in a conversational tone, "From whence have you come, my friends?"
"We all hail from regions of Galilee," began Jesus, his penetrating gaze once again fixed on Mary Magdalene, "with the exception of Judas here"—he extended his hand in Judas's direction—"but we have most recently occupied the town of Nazareth."
"Ah, yes, Nazareth," replied Mary Magdalene, clearly attempting to retain composure under Jesus' unwavering gaze. "Why does he look at her like that?" wondered John, but he kept his counsel. Sitting beside Jesus, Judas quirked his eyebrow at the Master before turning his attention to Mary Magdalene, "I hope I do not seem too bold, "he commenced, his eyes gleaming with something that John could not pinpoint but did not like, "but how have you come to live in this lovely home with only another woman as your companion?"
If Mary Magdalene was offended by Judas's question, she gave no indication of such feelings. Her voice was even and calm as she responded, "My father was a very well-to-do merchant, and his trade extended far beyond Israel. Before he...before he died, he wanted to ensure that I, his only daughter, was well cared for. Because he had no brothers and no sons, he decided that the only way to secure my well-being was to leave his fortune to me. And as for why I haven't married--"Ah, thought John, so she realized the true meaning of Judas's question. Clever girl. "—my father never felt the need to pressure me into marriage, and I never considered it to be necessary. I didn't want a husband who merely cared for my dowry....I wanted to...well, I wanted to be in love." Here she laughed wryly, and John noticed Jesus nodding his head with comprehension, his expression furtive but unreadable.
"She really is very generous." John nearly jumped with surprise at the sound of a soft, feminine voice beside him, and he turned to regard the beautiful Leah, who watched him out of the corner of her blue eye. "She takes care of the entire village," continued Leah, "buying food for the hungry and clothes for the poor. People like to laugh at her, to call her unfeminine because she lives by her own means. But I have never in my life met anyone more charitable and competent than Mary Magdalene." John nodded slowly, dumbfounded by the girl's eloquence. Noting John's surprise, Leah smiled amusedly, speaking in a knowing tone, "Magdalene's father made certain that she was well-educated and literate, and Magdalene taught me everything she learned."
So fascinated by Leah was John that he scarcely noticed the nature of the conversation around him. Somehow, the topic had shifted to theology, and Peter had entered a heated debate with Mary Magdalene, who appeared to be more than equipped to effectively argue with her male opponent. "Women should not be allowed to read the Gospels!" sputtered Peter, his bald spot turning a vivid crimson as his face contorted with frustration. "They cannot possibly understand the teachings of the ancient prophets! These words were meant for educated men!" Mary Magdalene regarded Peter with great intensity, her pretty face shadowed with slight annoyance as she replied coolly, "And what of educated women? They do exist, Peter. I have been reading the Scriptures since my early childhood, and I feel fairly comfortable in my knowledge of the 'teachings of the ancient prophets.'"
"Yes, Mary Magdalene, you have certainly proven to be as well-educated in the Scriptures as any man present," said Jesus quietly, and both Peter and Mary Magdalene turned their heads to face him. "So much so, in fact, that I believe you to be open to new teachings." With a warm smile to Peter, Jesus began to preach to the group, and they all soon became immersed in his words. Glancing towards Mary Magdalene, John was slightly startled by the intensity of her expression as she watched Jesus, her luminous eyes rapt with fascination. However, the spell was soon broken by the loud pounding of Judas's fist upon the wooden floor. "Why do you speak of such things in the company of such a woman?" demanded Judas, his eyes blazing with fury as he looked upon Jesus. "This Mary Magdalene lives lavishly, with no husband or male relations, and she even requires a servant to cater to her every whim!" Judas shot a venomous glare at Leah before continuing, "She is corrupt and un-maidenly, and you should not waste your words on her!"
Mary Magdalene cast her gaze to the floor, her expression becoming that of a stricken woman. When she spoke, she did so quietly, her voice trembling with anger, "You do not know how wrong you are, Judas."
Suddenly, Leah rose from her seated position, her beautiful blue eyes fiery and indignant as she spoke, "Mary Magdalene is not corrupt or lavish! She is charitable and kind and she takes care of this village! There would BE no village without her! And as for me, I am NOT her servant! My mother was a servant to her mother, but Magdalene has always treated me as her equal and her friend. How dare you speak of her in such a way, when she has accepted you into her home and treated you with such hospitality?" Judas seemed lost for words at this outburst, but Jesus turned his cobalt gaze towards Leah, speaking slowly and placidly, "What you say is true, sister." Returning his attention to Judas, he continued, "This woman has treated us with charity and kindness, and you repay her with offensive words? This is not the way, Judas." When a subdued Judas reseated himself with some embarrassment, Jesus addressed Mary Magdalene, his voice warm and almost affectionate, "Your goodness and love for mankind is evident, Mary Magdalene. I feel honored and joyous to have met you, my sister." Lifting her gaze from the ground, Mary Magdalene replied to Jesus with a bright smile that illuminated her pretty face, rendering her almost angelic in appearance. Observing the silent exchange between Jesus and Mary Magdalene, John recognized their reciprocal acknowledgement of each other's value and importance. "This Mary Magdalene has power," thought John with contemplation, "and Jesus knows it."
Choosing not to allow Judas's unkind words to thwart her hospitality, Mary Magdalene showed the apostles to several comfortable-looking bedchambers. All of the men were anxious to finally get a full night's sleep, but their happiness was somewhat dampened by Jesus' insistence that they leave at dawn. "So early..." moaned James, plodding towards the bedchambers behind Andrew and Peter. However, the group was too exhausted to expend much energy on complaining, and they soon fell into the deep variety of sleep that only comes in situations of extreme fatigue. Unfortunately, John's slumber was soon interrupted by frantic noises coming from the corridor. Sliding out of bed, he trudged towards the doorway, peering out into the hall to discern the sound's source. To his astonishment, he saw Leah, clothed in a flimsy night-shift, clinging to Jesus and sobbing almost hysterically. He could see the other apostles leaning out of their own doorways in an effort to hear Leah's weepy words: "Please, you must come help....it's Magdalene, they've got her again..."
"Who has her, Leah?" Jesus inquired calmly, placing his hands on the young woman's shoulders and attempting to look her straight in the eyes. Lifting her ethereal, tear-stained face, Leah whispered hoarsely, "The demons. She's had them since she was a child...I think there are seven, and they torture her so. Please, please help her."
Nodding, Jesus allowed Leah to lead him to Mary Magdalene's bedchamber, and John, driven by curiosity, quietly followed, along with several other apostles. "Demons, eh? Maybe that's why she's so damned opinionated," muttered Peter sleepily as the group reached the doorway to Mary Magdalene's chamber. Peeking into the darkened room, John saw Mary Magdalene spread-eagled on her bed, her small frame convulsing and twitching in a most grotesque manner. "Poor thing," whispered Andrew, shaking his head as he watched the tormented woman writhe and moan in a strange tongue that no one could decipher. Suddenly, John felt a trembling hand on his arm, and he glanced to his right to see Leah, tears still flowing silently down her cheeks. John's arm instinctively wrapped itself around her svelte form, and he stroked her hair comfortingly as she wept into his shoulder. "They hurt her so...I cannot bear to watch it..." she murmured. "Shhhh...do not fret, Jesus can help her. I'm sure of it," replied John, surprised at his own firmness of tone. As he held Leah in his arms, John watched the events occurring in Mary Magdalene's chamber with some amazement. Jesus had taken the shaking woman in his arms, holding her firmly despite her efforts to break free. He then pressed his mouth to hers, sucking the demons out one by one. Although he had seen Jesus perform exorcisms before, John had never witnessed such a struggle within his Master; the demons seemed very reluctant to leave Mary Magdalene's body. However, the task was eventually accomplished, and John turned to Leah with a smile. "See? All is well with her now," he whispered warmly, and looking back into the room, he was surprised to see Jesus' lips still upon Mary Magdalene's. "What is he doing?" muttered Thaddeus confusedly. "Just finishing up the exorcism, I suppose," replied Peter, but his face registered some perplexity as well. Finally, Mary Magdalene returned to herself again, clinging to Jesus as Leah had done and weeping profusely as she thanked him again and again. Looking up for the first time, Jesus noticed the apostles standing in the door, and he nodded to them soberly. "She is healed; you can return to your slumber."
Still murmuring with amazement, the apostles heeded Jesus' words, but John lingered for a moment, watching Leah depart down the corridor, her steps light with relief. Turning his head away, John returned to his chamber and put on his traveling garments. Gathering up his few possessions, he exited the house and stood by the gate, staring out at the horizon. Dawn was not far away; he could already see small beams of light illuminating the sky. Leaning against the gate, John thought on what he had seen in Mary Magdalene's chamber. After the demons had been exorcised, John once again noticed the strange connection between Jesus and Mary Magdalene, something intangible and extremely powerful. The encounter had caused John to believe that this Mary Magdalene would prove important in the future; she would not merely disappear from their lives.
After bidding farewell to Mary Magdalene (Leah was nowhere to be found, to John's relief, for he knew that parting from her would be a difficult feat), the group began their journey anew, their steps sluggish and reluctant as they departed from the village. No sooner had they arrived at the village's end did they hear a woman's voice crying, "Wait! Wait!" Glancing over his shoulder, John was immensely surprised to see Mary Magdalene hurtling down the dirt path, her black hair streaming out behind her. When she finally reached the apostles, her cheeks were flushed with crimson and her brow glistened with perspiration, but she moved undaunted through the group, pausing as she reached Jesus. Squarely meeting his eyes, she spoke in a clear, resonant voice, "Please let me join you. I have learned so much from you....you have saved me. I feel---I feel that I belong here."
"But...but what about your house? Your money?" Thomas queried, pushing to the front of the group to stare goggle-eyed at Mary Magdalene.
"I left it all to Leah," she replied plainly, turning to face the apostles. "I only brought enough with me to contribute to your resources, but the rest is Leah's. I know that she will use it well." Smiling at the group of men, Mary Magdalene once again turned her attention to Jesus, and John noticed that she was wringing her hands with some anxiety, as if she feared his rejection. However, her worries were soon settled when Jesus cupped her chin in his hand, his eyes filled with love and happiness as he responded, "We welcome you among us, Mary Magdalene." John heard bemused whispering among the apostles (and a loud scoff from Judas) as Jesus softly kissed the woman's brow and took her hand in his. "Follow me," he called over his shoulder to the apostles, and as they proceeded down the path, John noticed that Jesus had not released Mary Magdalene's hand, and he seemed to have no intention of doing so in the near future. He nodded with understanding at this observation, for it affirmed what he had so strongly suspected: this Mary Magdalene would prove to be very important indeed.