The Prodigal Page #5

which of the human arts was the greatest.

Was it the intricate tapestry

of the weaver,

the haunting melody of the musician,

the pulsing rhythm of the dancer?

No.

This man found an art as delicate,

rapturous and sublime

as all of these put together.

He found it in the sanctuary of Astarte.

The art of...

The feel of your mouth upon mine.

She is returning to the temple.

But console yourself, young man,

console yourself.

The pearl remains.

Shall we discuss price?

Love potions! The best in all Damascus!

Powdered amber, mandrake root

and the dust of the moon!

Young man, you buy my love potion

and your wench will walk beside you.

But wait,

you asked too much for too little.

Delicious bird, plump and firm

and every mouthful, oh, a juicy delight!

One copper for a fat goose?

Robber, pirate, swindler, thief!

You can't...

Two pieces of silver! Much better!

Try, try, try again.

Remember, famine stalks the land.

The hungry grow hungrier every hour.

Two pieces of gold!

Oh, may you live 100 years

and die as fat as the sacrifices

in the temple!

Thank you. Help! Grab him!

Throw him in the dungeon,

the thief! You...

Try here.

Make way for Daja and his radiant bride!

Make way!

Make way for the bride and groom.

Make way.

The happy bride. The happy groom.

The blessings of Baal!

The blessings of Astarte!

The happy bride! The happy groom!

Make way! Make way!

Asham!

Asham, you are to leave at once

for my father's home in Joppa.

You are to take this to my father.

And return with what he gives you

as soon as you can.

Have your legs become

as useless as your tongue?

Asham, l... l shouldn't have said that.

May you return safely and soon.

- But you are not giving me full measure!

- The supply is down, the price is up.

You're holding up the line.

- Do you want the grain or not?

- Yes.

Look at them.

They stand in the rain

and they don't even grumble.

Unfortunately.

When the people stop grumbling,

grow too silent, too sullen,

that is the time to take care,

a time to divert them,

a time to make them grateful.

Grateful, master?

Now that the rains have come, the earth

will soon be ready for the planting.

And my starving people

will be most grateful to me

if I call upon my gods

to give them a rich harvest,

and so I shall, most spectacularly.

Citizens of Damascus,

know that your hunger

has not gone unnoticed

by His Godliness, the High Priest.

Know that on the evening of the third day,

a supreme high sacrifice will be held

so that Baal and Astarte

may end this famine!

Finally, know that

the High Priestess, Samarra,

will beseech the gods of fertility

in your behalf!

The golden Samarra herself

and a high sacrifice besides.

And the fertility rites.

Master, there is nothing like it

on the square face of the earth.

One of the guards

at the temple gate is my friend.

For 100 pieces of silver,

I could get you past the gate, except...

Master, how can you hesitate?

You who crossed the endless deserts,

the snow-capped mountains,

for this goddess of a woman.

Ask yourself, are you a man or a beard?

Father! Father! He won't eat!

David just sits here and won't eat!

- David!

- No, no, Father, don't.

- You'll spoil the boy.

- Of course.

One day you'll learn

that grandchildren are for spoiling.

- Now, young one...

- I won't eat.

I hate chicken. I keep seeing the feathers.

But suppose we had a roasted lamb,

would you still keep seeing the wool?

- That's very different.

- Why?

I like roasted lamb.

An honest answer

from an honest little head.

But this is no day for an empty stomach.

This is Succoth,

the Feast of the Tabernacles,

a holiday of gladness, of giving thanks.

Here, in the little house we build

with branches and flowers and leaves,

open to the soft wind and the stars

that wink and blink.

Tell me, young one,

do you know why

we build this little house?

Because 1,200 years ago,

when our people were delivered

from slavery in the land of Egypt,

they were wanderers in the wilderness.

They could only build little houses

like this of branches and flowers

that grew wild and...

May it be.

- Be who, Grandfather?

- Be Micah!

It is Asham.

Micah, is he well?

The scroll. What news?

Micah asks me to send him

all that is left of his portion.

The remainder of his portion! For what?

To squander on his temple harlot?

A portion you earned for him

during your lifetime?

No. Don't send it to him.

The gold is his

according to the laws of our people.

See that Asham is fed,

then bring him to me.

- But Father, he has no further claim.

- Now, Joram.

Make Micah know

that he has no further claim on me.

From this day forward,

I know not his name.

From this day forward,

he is dead in my heart.

O gods of fertility,

male and female of all creation,

let our sacrifice this night

soften your hearts,

yea, even as the rains you have sent

have softened the rich, good earth.

Abandon us not, I beseech you,

to the marauding tribes

who would destroy

what is left of our sustenance!

Let the light of your eternal fire dispel

the darkness which has come upon us!

She's what every blind man sees!

Why wait for Asham's return from Joppa?

Go to Bosra,

borrow the money for the pearl!

You can pay Bosra back

when Asham brings you your gold.

You have lived for this moment

without sin or blemish.

Go now to live forever

in the Four Halls of the Heavens!

The most valuable pearl in the worid.

Well worth borrowing the money for.

The terms of your loan.

Read it over line by line carefully.

The usual terms and the usual penalty

in the remote event my money

is not returned by the prescribed time.

I make it a practice to urge my clients

to read the document carefully.

Including the small writing.

The very small writing.

Let me sign and be done with it.

Such an impatient young man.

Always before men have come to me

in my temple.

Never before have I been alone

with a man outside the temple walls.

Are you a rich man, Micah?

As rich as a prince or a caliph?

In this moment

no man in the worid is richer than l.

Micah, what is wrong?

How well I know you by this time.

- Tell me what it is.

- Nothing.

You thought I was sleeping,

but I was watching you.

Do you still say there's nothing wrong?

Samarra, I thought that once I knew you,

you would be a wonderful moment

and no more.

I thought I'd no longer want you.

And now?

Now I want you more than ever.

I cannot share you with these other men

that you welcome so lightly, so easily.

I want you for myself, as your husband.

- I can never belong to any one man.

- Why not?

Because I'm High Priestess of Astarte.

For this I was trained ever since

I was half Yasmin's age.

I belong to all men.

Samarra!

Samarra, how can I make you understand?

But it is you who must understand.

You who must see with your own eyes

what it is like

to be the High Priestess of Astarte.

I've already seen!

You have seen me.

Now you must see me with my people.

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