The Galileans: A Novel of Mary Magdalene by Frank G. Slaughter

must be sensible, Joseph,” she said firmly. “I can’t possibly marry you. Not for a long time.”
    “But why?”
    “It’s a long story, but you deserve to hear it. Years ago Demetrius was the director of the Alexandrian Theater and the most famous musician in the empire. He loved a girl named Althea and trained her to be the leading actress there. She was his mistress, and he adored her, so he could not believe she would be untrue to him. But she took up with a rich Roman and tried to get rid of Demetrius by telling her lover that he was the leader in a plot against the Romans. Demetrius barely escaped with his life and a little money by joining a caravan going to Damascus, but some thieves robbed him in Capernaum and left him for dead in the lake. Simon found him and nursed him back to health. Since he had no money, Demetrius set up a shop for making lyres here in Magdala, but he lives only to return to Alexandria.”
    “Would it be safe for him to go back?”
    “Yes. Althea’s lover was really plotting to make himself ruler of the city and both of them were executed, but it was too late to help Demetrius. From what Simon tells me, he was about to kill himself when I came to him. Since then I have been his whole life. He taught me everything I know, Joseph, and he lives only for the time when he can make me the most famous actress and dancer in Alexandria. It will be his revenge upon Althea.”
    “But Demetrius loves you enough to want your happiness, Mary.”
    “Don’t you see?” she pleaded. “I have to do this for Demetrius, but I want it, too. Kings have deserted queens for women of the theater. What girl wouldn’t long to be as important as a queen?”
    “But suppose you are not an instant success?” he objected. “How would all of you live in Alexandria?”
    “Demetrius says I am more talented than Althea was and that I will only need to sing and dance before the director of the theater to be accepted immediately.”
    Remembering the living flame of her body when he had seen her dancing in the street at Tiberias, Joseph could understand the confidence of the lyre maker.
    “This new cithara Demetrius has made is far superior to the old ones,” Mary continued. “It is bound to be in great demand in a city the size of Alexandria, where there are so many musicians. We can live on what he makes from selling the cithara if we have to, but I would sing and dance in the streets to make him happy. No one but me can ever realize how much I owe him, Joseph.”
    Loving her as he did, Joseph could not find it in his heart to try to dissuade her. Having important plans of his own, he understood the fire of ambition that burned within her. “How much longer before you go to Alexandria?” he asked.
    Mary laughed and was herself again, gay and eager. “Who can tell? We have barely enough to eat now. But that day when I danced in Tiberias, the crowd threw more coins than I would earn in a week in Magdala or Capernaum, or even as far as Bethsaida.”
    “I wish you wouldn’t go back to Tiberias, Mary,” he said quickly.
    “You go there yourself nearly every day,” she protested. “If it doesn’t make you unclean, why should it make me unclean?”
    “I’m not talking about uncleanness. You are a beautiful girl, and you saw the way the procurator’s nephew, Gaius Flaccus, looked at you.”
    “Men look at me every day. Do you think I can’t read what is in their eyes?” She wrinkled her nose at him. “The tribune was a very handsome man and free with his gold. He gave Hadja twenty denarii.”
    “But you know how these Romans are. A young girl is not safe—”
    “Joseph!” she cried delightedly. “You’re jealous!”
    “Of course I’m jealous,” he admitted. “Didn’t I just finish telling you I love you and want to marry you? But just the same, the Romans are evil and not to be trusted.”
    Her face sobered. “I know all about Romans; my father was going to sell me to one of them. But they