To the man holding the oil lamp, Lydia said, "My friend was attacked by a bandit and has a nasty wound on his head. Is there a doctor, midwife or barber who can tend to him?"

The man nodded. "Yes, my grandmoder is a midwife. She is in the kitchen with my wife. If you do not mind your friend being treated by a Jew, she will see to him.”

Brother Matthew’s mouth formed a huge O. He was about to say something but before he could, Antone said, “Of course we do not mind.” To Brother Matthew he whispered, “Shut your mouth and help get Uncle inside.” To Lydia’s amazement Antone stood up. It seemed he had been miraculously healed of whatever had been paining him.

Brother Matthew and Antone helped lift James down. He was not steady on his feet. In the lamplight, his color looked bad. As they walked, the man told them his name was Rabbi Rashbam. Inside the house, he led them down a narrow hall to the kitchen. A young pregnant woman stood by the hearth. She wore a brown dress with a star sewn on it. The Rabbi told her, “Dear, these pilgrims were attacked.”

From behind Lydia, a familiar voice said, "The road is dangerous and will be more so, since Pope Boniface has declared this a year of Jubilee." A tiny woman brushed passed Lydia. She glanced at her. The old woman was familiar, and she knew Lydia. Dumbstruck Lydia could not believe her eyes! It could not be! Only in dreams and memory had she ever expected to see her again. It was Bab! Bab, the Jewish midwife, who had trained Aunt Rachel. She gave a slight nod to Lydia and then went to James. In her soft voice she said, "Well hello old friend. I did not expect us to meet in this world again. But then, life is like that.”

James gave her a weary smile. “Bab, it is so good to see you.” Tears stood in James’ eyes. Lydia had never seen him so moved by emotion.

Bab told Antone and Brother Matthew, “Lay him on the table." To her grandson she said, “Fetch me more light.”

Antone, and Brother Matthew lifted James onto the table. Rabbi Rashbam put a smaller table beside the kitchen table. On it he placed six lamps. Their flames wavered and smelled of olive oil. James hair was matted with drying blood. His wound looked much worse in this well lit room. Carefully Bab examined it. From a bag that was tied around her waist, she pulled various packets. One smelled like juniper. Bab held up the herb and said, “Juniper will staunch his blood, draw out the bad and prevent infection.” James had been attacked right beside juniper and Lydia had not known it could help him. Once again, she regretted not being more attentive to her Aunt Rachel. After Bab thoroughly cleaned the wound, she threaded a silver needle with stiff black thread. "James, sit, very still, just like you did when you were a little boy and I had to give you stiches."

“Aye, Bab.”

When the needle pierced James skin, nausea thundered inside of Lydia. She looked away. James grunted but that was all. Lydia could hear the needle as it moved in and out of his skin. If this lasted much longer she would be sick. Finally, Bab said, "There. All done. Eli, Brother Matthew, take him to my room.” To Antone she said, “Young man, let me take a look at those scrapes." She tapped the chair beside her. Obediently Antone sat down.

After his scrapes were attended to Bab sent Lydia, Antone and Brother Matthew to the back basin to wash up for breakfast. As they washed, Brother Matthew whispered, “Do you think it wise to break bread with Jews, the killers of Christ?”

Angrily Antone hissed, “Christ was a Jew, the disciples were Jews, Mary was a Jew. Paul was a Jew. You holy men stagger me with your religious bigotry. These people have offered us care and food. All things Christ told his followers to do. Have you forgotten your scriptures?”

Brother Matthew grumbled something but said no more.

*

Dusk would soon fall. At the front door, Rabbi Rashbam told Antone, "When our service is over, you and your friends can come outside and join us for a feast."

Through the window Lydia watched people file into a barn that served as their tabernacle. Every person, man, woman and child had one of those yellow stars sewn on their clothes.

James was still in Bab’s room. Last time Lydia had looked in on him, he was still pale but he was eating, and Bab said that was a good sign.

The colors of day faded and darkness covered the earth. One by one stars appeared. Lydia’s stomach grumbled. She was hungry. How much longer? Suddenly the night was filled with the sound of clacking stones. The barn doors flew open. A roar of human shouts poured out. Men, women and children raised their voices. Antone rushed to the door and flung it open. Lydia went to his side. In the yard a fire was being lit. Two young men carried a cloth dummy tied to a pole by its throat. The way it swung sent a chill through Lydia.

With a whoop, one of the men lit the dummy. It burst into flame. A cheer rumbled from the people. What was this strange celebration?

The crowd churned in the yard. Antone said, "Come on!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the night. Brother Matthew did not follow.

Music like Lydia had never heard before spiraled around her, begging her join the dancing. Skirts swirled, boots thumped and children squealed with delight. The musicians played their viols, flutes, timbrels and hand held harps. They sang as they played. Antone told her the language they were singing in was Hebrew. She asked, "Do you know what they are celebrating?”

Antone smiled at her and said, "Aye, the Feast of Purim. Have you heard of Queen Esther in Scripture?"

Lydia nodded.

“Then, you know how Queen Esther saved the Jewish people from being killed by the evil Haman. This feast is to honor her."

So the hanging dummy they burned was a symbol of Haman. Though she had not liked that part, it pleased her to know the Jewish people had a feast to honor the brave Queen Esther.

Antone leaned closer to her and whispered, "If only these people had a Queen Esther now. It will not be long before they are driven from this land too. In Paris they are not allowed to celebrate Purim. King Philip sees the feast as an act of insolence against Christ. Others see it as an act of rebellion.”

“Is it?”

“No, it honors the liberation of Jewish people, but I fear, some of the men are frustrated by the continuing confines set upon them by the crown. I have heard talk that when King Philip casts them out they will go to Mediterranean.” Antone had not said "if," he said "when." How awful to keep being cast out. Would Bab be exiled again before her life was over?

Though still close to her, Antone returned to his normal voice and asked, "Have you noticed the stars these people have sewn on their clothes?"

"Aye," she said. “What are they for?"

"King Philip decreed that they wear the star. It sets them apart from others and makes them easily identifiable as Jews."

“Why?”

Bitterly Antone said, “Fear, prejudice, ignorance. The human need to have a scapegoat to blame. The despicable belief that one people are superior to another.” He stopped. “Enough of this talk. This is a celebration. Shall we join the dance?”

Lydia shook her head. She did not know how to dance like a boy. He smiled at her and spun into the swirling crowd. His feet knew exactly what to do. His movements were as fluid as the music he made with his pipes. He twirled a girl. His eyes were laughing. Painful jealously filled Lydia. How she longed to be the one he twirled.

Turning away from the dancers Lydia went to the table that was covered with dried fruits and some foods she had not seen before. No longer hungry she went to the barn where Moses Aaron was stabled. The mule tossed his head and nickered at the sight of her. Lydia climbed into the stall and pressed her cheek against his. "You are a comfort to me, you old mule."

Moses Aaron snorted.

A little girl entered the barn carrying a lantern. She called, “Kit, kit, kitty, come here.” A tiny ball of orange and white fluff streaked up the little girl's dress and perched on her shoulder. With one hand, the child pulled the kitten down and rubbed it against her cheek. With the tenderness of a mother, she scolded her errant pet. When she finished, she looked up, saw Lydia and smiled. At once, Lydia was struck by the child's eyes, they were same color as Moder's. The little girl came to Lydia and said, “This is Ratter. He will kill barn rats when he is bigger.”

Lydia stroked Ratter’s soft fur. “He is very pretty.”

The child looked at her with scorn. “He is handsome. Girls are pretty, not boys.”

“You are right. I am sorry.”

“It is fine. He is almost pretty.” She kissed the kitten. “My mama, she tells me not to kiss the filthy cat. Cats are not filthy, Ratter is Jewish. He washes before every meal.”

Lydia asked, “Are you Jewish?”

“No, I am Christian." Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I wish I was Jewish. I would live in a clean house and say Torah. When I am big as you, I will learn. I will learn many things.” Her intelligent eyes were filled with determination. The girl asked, “Why are you hiding in here?”

“I am not hiding. I came to see Moses Aaron, is he not a fine mule?”

Skeptically, the little girl looked at the mule. “There is nothing fine about a mule.” She spun around and headed out of the barn. Lydia followed her.

The child’s pace was rapid. She pushed through the dancers and rushed out into the night. It was not safe for a girl child to be out alone! Lydia ran around the dancers and went to the dark edges of the yard. Through the vineyard the girl's lantern bobbed. Afraid the child would not make it safely home, she ran after her. Not far down the row Lydia tripped on a vine. When she stood, the little girl was gone. Where the child had been, stood an animal. Its body seemed to be made of pale silver. A single horn was fixed to its head. It could not be!