"What do you suggest Sister?"
"I suggest that you do not ask me to suggest anything, because I know that I will end up agreeing with you, with both of you, something too dangerous for us all."
"Please, Sister. You are older and wiser then we are. Tell us your thoughts." She wheeled around, giving the children a hard look. And that's what Maria and Yeshua were to her at the moment, children. Older and wiser? Two years separated Yeshua and Sarai, years that made no difference because they were all still learning the ways of the world. "You two got yourselves in this trouble, how will you get yourself out of it?" Unlike Yeshua, his sister was not one to back down, and she was highly argumentative. It went without saying that they had asked her how they were going to get out of the mess.
One of the reasons they had went to Sarai was because she was so strong. Women were supposed to be obedient, but not Sarai. She had watched as her parents were violently killed when she was ten; she had stood against her distant relatives, wanting her to marry a man three times her age, and she had protected her younger brother through all their years of life. She stood in front of, for all intensive purposes, the children she had raised; wondering what had gotten into them. "Well?"
"Sarai… you should know how I feel. I do not want to marry a man I do not know, a man that… I could not love."
"I understand your feels, Maria, but explain this to me: the Roman is only a year older then you, your father approves of him, and he can offer you a life that no other can. You could learn to love, could you not?"
"Sister, you must not talk like the old village women. The reason is simple; Maria does not love him…" Yeshua lost his voice under his sister's glare. "Yeshua… why do you answer for Maria? And do not compare me to the old women. Is there something that I am not being told?" Both children squirmed. That alone spoke volumes to Sarai, making her even more suspicious. They had come asking for help about how to avoid a marriage. When asked who for, they said Maria. It was already a story in the village about the Roman, and Sarai became suspicious. This made her even more so now.
"I would never answer something Maria did not want me to. I am looking out for my best friend, Sister." Sarai knew it was more then that. There had to be more to it. A small tap at the door announced an arrival. "You may come in." In walked the sorriest excuse for a solider anyone would ever see. Michael was a handsome man with brown hair and eyes, wearing the standard roman uniform. He was a guard of Phillaicus's, which meant he was also exiled for some deed. "Welcome to my home, Michael. What does Phillaicus want this time?" Sarai was friendly to Michael, opposed to the fact that Sarai would never have given the other guards a second glance. "Good evening Sarai, Kos-Mos, chaos. Sarai, you are one of the only people in the village not to give Phillaicus your new name... And he sent me to get it from you. My apologies for his rudeness."
There was a reason Michael made such a bad solider. He was too polite, and he disliked violence. Sarai once asked him why he was not a scribe. He did not answer. "Is that all?! Such a trivial errand, and I am sorry I have caused you trouble, Michael. Tell Phillaicus this: if he wants to know it, then he can come and get it himself." Michael bowed his head, stifling a laugh. Maria and Yeshua also turned away, overcome with laughter. You do not tell a Roman what to do. "I will tell him, Lady Sarai. Please, excuse me-"
"Let me ask you something Michael, before you leave." Michael stopped his turning movements, staring at Sarai, who was looking at her children. "What do you know of this Generals son?"
"Please do not trouble Michael, Sister. He no doubt has…" Yeshua stopped. The low wood table moved slightly, almost silently for neither Michael nor Sarai noticed. Maria had shoved the table into Yeshua, making him silent. She wanted to know. "I know only a little, Lady Sarai. But I can tell you this: he is a man who has always gotten what he has wanted. He takes what he wants with little regard for anything else. He is like a sunset; for he can easily leave you in darkness, forgetting you, but he is always there, beautiful, reminding you that you need him day after day. He fights like a possessed demon. He does not like his things tampered with." Michael looked at Maria as he said this. Her blue eyes met his brown ones, expression unreadable.
"Michael… you were a poet were you not? That part about the sunset was beautiful, even if you were speaking of a cobra." Michael nodded, for there was nothing more to say. A man who can write beautiful poetry is wanted in the Empire, but not if he writes outside of the Empire's wishes. "I will take my leave now, Lady Sarai. Good day, Kos-Mos, chaos." And he left, more silently the he came.
"Loves like that… from one who is possessive, cannot compare to the love of my brother, can it, Kos-Mos?" It was as if it was the final judgment. Sarai was opposite of Yeshua, long raven wing black hair gathered in a braid, dark eyes unfocused at the moment, crimson dress dirty and old from use, but not in just looks. She did not understand was it was like to love someone more then life itself. She did not know the fear that was involved with loving someone.
"My suggestion is this: Go to Maria's mother and open your heart to her. You are children who know love, which makes you wiser then most. Follow your hearts." Sarai spread her arms wide, wanting to hug the children one last time. Maria was on her feet in an instant, running towards the first person who had accepted their situation. "I will keep him in line Sarai, I promise." Maria buried her face in Sarai's neck, crushing her. Yeshua came more slowly, taking in the sight of the two women in his life, excepting each other more then they ever had.
"Mother and Father wanted to do this for you Yeshua, but it seems that it will be my duty now." Very gently Sarai moved out of Maria's embrace, taking both her hand and Yeshua's. She linked them together; her's on top of his. Sarai reached around her side, to her braid, taking the ribbon from its place as barrier, pulling it free. It was Sarai's prized possession, and she was passing it onto her children. She first laced in around their wrists, tying it in a very simple knot. "You may not receive Maria's family's blessings, but you have mine." They were children no longer.