even the fish market. But this is the Canopic Market, and there's only one kosher grocer here. Not as many Jews live in this part of the city, you see."
"Do we have to stay in certain places?" There was a shadow of fear in her eyes, and he saw her hand tighten just a little on the baby's shawl.
"No," Dion said kindly. "Of course not. It's just that some neighborhoods are more Jewish than others. What does this cousin of yours do?"
"He's a cabinetmaker," she said. "Samuel the son of Reuben. He makes furniture. I thought that everyone would know him." She looked out over the square, where women and slaves alike were starting their shopping, the women calling to each other and greeting each other like long lost kin, when they'd probably seen each other the day before. "But now I see the city is too big. It's bigger even than Jerusalem."
"Alexandria is the largest city in the world," Dion said. "There are more than half a million people in the City proper. There are more Jews in Alexandria than Jerusalem, so you shan't lack for company." He smiled down at her. "I am Dion, and I am a scholar of astronomy, and a teacher at the Museum."
"Is that like a magi?" Something cautious lit in her eyes.
"Yes," Dion said. "You could call me a magus." He was rather surprised she should know what a magus was, country bred as she seemed to be.
"My name is Maryam," she said. "It's just that it's taken so long to get here, and my cousin's not really expecting us because there wasn't a way to send a letter. Everything is so much bigger and farther apart. We came by road from Pelusion, and we thought when we got to Pelusion from Gaza that we must be almost there, but then it's been another week and we were running short of everything…"
Dion blinked. "Why in the world didn't you sail? It's a much easier trip by sea, and cheaper really when you figure in the cost of travel." And easier on the baby too, Dion thought but did not say. The baby might be six months old, with his mother's wide dark eyes and sooty lashes. He was watching everything with fascination, pausing occasionally to throw out his arms and yell, "Ah ya ya ya !" If his mother had stinted herself in the journey, clearly she was still feeding him all right.
"We were afraid to," she said quietly. "King Herod's men guard the ports."
"Ah," Dion said as it all became clear. Since Herod was in his dotage, he'd gotten more than a little irrational. Living under a wretched old king was one thing, but one who had always had a bloody streak was just plain dangerous.
"Well, you are beyond Herod's reach now," Dion said proudly. "This is Alexandria, and it is still the freest city in the world. You can do anything or believe anything here. Well, anything as long as you pay your taxes to the man in Rome. I won't dignify that little pissant Octavian with the title of Caesar."
She looked confused.
"The Emperor Augustus," Dion said. "He used to be Octavian. He still is, as far as I'm concerned. Caesar's heir is dead these twenty four years."
Her voice was very low. "Aren't you afraid to say that?"
Dion laughed shortly. "My dear, this is Alexandria! If they threw in jail everyone who cursed Octavian, the prison should be full to bursting! You can believe anything you want here, as long as you pay your taxes. Octavian doesn't care for our blessings, just our money." He glanced toward the Roman guards on the gate. One young man, in scarlet tunic under his leathers, had rather nice legs.
"Oh," she said, and there was a furrow between her brows that did not belong on the face of one so young.
"It's a safe place to be," Dion said kindly. "A good place to raise a child. You can start him in rhetoric and mathematics sooner than you think. Five or six is good. A clever boy can become anything here — teacher, sage, doctor, scientist, voyager."
"I had thought he would learn a trade," Maryam said, one hand caressing his unruly curls. "I hadn't asked yet or anything, but maybe he could learn
"Do we have to stay in certain places?" There was a shadow of fear in her eyes, and he saw her hand tighten just a little on the baby's shawl.
"No," Dion said kindly. "Of course not. It's just that some neighborhoods are more Jewish than others. What does this cousin of yours do?"
"He's a cabinetmaker," she said. "Samuel the son of Reuben. He makes furniture. I thought that everyone would know him." She looked out over the square, where women and slaves alike were starting their shopping, the women calling to each other and greeting each other like long lost kin, when they'd probably seen each other the day before. "But now I see the city is too big. It's bigger even than Jerusalem."
"Alexandria is the largest city in the world," Dion said. "There are more than half a million people in the City proper. There are more Jews in Alexandria than Jerusalem, so you shan't lack for company." He smiled down at her. "I am Dion, and I am a scholar of astronomy, and a teacher at the Museum."
"Is that like a magi?" Something cautious lit in her eyes.
"Yes," Dion said. "You could call me a magus." He was rather surprised she should know what a magus was, country bred as she seemed to be.
"My name is Maryam," she said. "It's just that it's taken so long to get here, and my cousin's not really expecting us because there wasn't a way to send a letter. Everything is so much bigger and farther apart. We came by road from Pelusion, and we thought when we got to Pelusion from Gaza that we must be almost there, but then it's been another week and we were running short of everything…"
Dion blinked. "Why in the world didn't you sail? It's a much easier trip by sea, and cheaper really when you figure in the cost of travel." And easier on the baby too, Dion thought but did not say. The baby might be six months old, with his mother's wide dark eyes and sooty lashes. He was watching everything with fascination, pausing occasionally to throw out his arms and yell, "Ah ya ya ya !" If his mother had stinted herself in the journey, clearly she was still feeding him all right.
"We were afraid to," she said quietly. "King Herod's men guard the ports."
"Ah," Dion said as it all became clear. Since Herod was in his dotage, he'd gotten more than a little irrational. Living under a wretched old king was one thing, but one who had always had a bloody streak was just plain dangerous.
"Well, you are beyond Herod's reach now," Dion said proudly. "This is Alexandria, and it is still the freest city in the world. You can do anything or believe anything here. Well, anything as long as you pay your taxes to the man in Rome. I won't dignify that little pissant Octavian with the title of Caesar."
She looked confused.
"The Emperor Augustus," Dion said. "He used to be Octavian. He still is, as far as I'm concerned. Caesar's heir is dead these twenty four years."
Her voice was very low. "Aren't you afraid to say that?"
Dion laughed shortly. "My dear, this is Alexandria! If they threw in jail everyone who cursed Octavian, the prison should be full to bursting! You can believe anything you want here, as long as you pay your taxes. Octavian doesn't care for our blessings, just our money." He glanced toward the Roman guards on the gate. One young man, in scarlet tunic under his leathers, had rather nice legs.
"Oh," she said, and there was a furrow between her brows that did not belong on the face of one so young.
"It's a safe place to be," Dion said kindly. "A good place to raise a child. You can start him in rhetoric and mathematics sooner than you think. Five or six is good. A clever boy can become anything here — teacher, sage, doctor, scientist, voyager."
"I had thought he would learn a trade," Maryam said, one hand caressing his unruly curls. "I hadn't asked yet or anything, but maybe he could learn
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