The City of Delight

The night following the wounding of Nicanor, John spent on his

fortifications expecting an attack. It was one of the few nights when

the Gischalan kept vigil, for he refused to contribute fatigue to the

prospering of his cause.

Sometime in mid-morning he appeared in the house of Amaryllis and sent

a servant to her asking her to breakfast with him. The Greek sent him

in return a wax tablet on which she had written that she was shut up

in her chamber writing verse, but that she had provided him a

companion as entertaining as she.

When he passed into the Greek's dining-room, the woman who called

herself wife to Philadelphus awaited him at the table.

When he sat she dropped into a chair beside him and laid before him a

bunch of grapes from Crete, preserved throughout the winter in casks

filled with ground cork.

"It is the last, Amaryllis says," she observed. "And siege is laid."

John looked ruefully at the fruit.

"Perhaps," he said after thought, "were I a thrifty man and a spiteful

one, I would not eat them. Instead, I should have the same cluster

served me every morning that I might say to mine enemies, with truth,

that I have Cretan grapes for breakfast daily. They will keep," he

added presently, "for it is tradition that stores laid up for siege

never decay."

"Obviously," said the woman, "they do not last long enough."

John plucked off one of the light green grapes and ate it with relish.

"Since thou doubtest the tradition, I shall not have these spoil."

"But you destroy even a better boast over your enemy. Then you could

say to him, 'We can not consume all our food. Behold the grapes rot in

the lofts!'"

John smiled.

"Half of the lies go to preserve another's opinion of us. How much we

respect our fellows!"

"Be comforted; there are as many lying for our sakes! But how goes it

without on the walls?"

"Against Rome or against Simon?"

"Both."

"Ill enough. But when Titus presses too close Simon will lay down his

hostility toward me; and when Titus becomes too effective, we are to

have a divine interference, so our prophets say."

"I observe," the woman said, "we Jews at this time are relying much on

the prophets to fight our battles. Behold, our stores will hold out,

we say, because it is said; and we shall fight indifferently, because

Daniel hath bespoken a Deliverer for us at this time!"

John, with his wine-glass between thumb and finger, looked at her.

"I should expect a heretic to be so critical for us," he said.

The woman sat with her elbows on the table, her chin in her hands,

gazing moodily at the sunlight falling through the brass grill over

the windows on the court. She ignored his remark, but answered

presently in another tone.