Ulrika watched him cross the hall and slip into his own room. Closing her door, she stayed with her back to it and whispered to the gods, "Please take care of this man. Watch over him. Bring him safely back to me."

     Sebastianus didn't even have to knock. Ulrika already knew he had come back, that he stood now on the other side of her door. She opened it and there he was, the cloak gone, bare chest and arms exposed, a look of hunger and uncertainty on his face. He held out his hand and Ulrika saw the scallop shell from an ancient altar in Galicia. "Take this," he said. "It holds great power."

     She took the shell, vowing to wear it always.

     "I need to touch you," he whispered.

     She looked up into his eyes and felt them embrace her, draw her inside, into his mind and heart. "And I, you," she said.

     They reached for each other at the same time, arms gliding perfectly against each other, slipping into and around the right places, with Ulrika delivering herself into a refuge she had yearned for and Sebastianus drawing a sweetness to himself that he had hungered for. Their mouths met in heat and passion. Each tasted the other. Hands hurriedly explored, grasped, kneaded. Words came whispered breathlessly through clenched lips: "I want—" "I need—" "You are—" "We are—"

     Ulrika pressed herself to Sebastianus and felt his hardness. She burst into flame, or so it felt, her skin so hot now and damp and wanting to be devoured by the Galician's mouth. And Sebastianus wanted to delve into her, to join his body and life force to hers, to become part of her, making her part of him.

     But then they heard a crash, and heavy footfall, and the grumpy voice of Timonides in the next room as he was apparently packing his bags and complaining, and speaking very loudly of the urgency with which they must be going.

     Reluctantly, Sebastianus drew back. "It seems we are not to know amoment alone together," he said, glancing toward the wall which almost vibrated with the energy of the astrologer's industry. "Timonides meant it when he said the stars have commanded us to hurry."

     Why? she wanted to ask, hating the feel of his withdrawal, the cold air that rushed between them, the awful emptiness that now filled her arms. And the burning of her lips, the tingling on her tongue. She did not want to stop.

     "Ulrika," Sebastianus said as he drew her close one last time, "I want to stay with you, be with you. But Timonides is right. I must go. To love you and to enjoy your love in return—such a privilege and luxury cannot be mine, not now that I am under Caesar's command."

     He bent and kissed her forehead.

     "Ulrika, Ulrika," he said, filling his mouth with her name. "It is said that Eros, the god of love and desire, is continually taking humans apart and putting them back together. And it is true! My former self has been utterly shattered and re-shaped. The man I once was, so guarded in his feelings, so in control of his heart, no longer exists. Why Eros singled me out for this particular joy, I do not know, but I still firmly hold that I am not deserving of it.

     "I do not want to leave you! But I must do as the stars dictate, for it is the will of the gods. No man can defy his stars, for they map out his destiny. This I believe most passionately and with all my heart: there is an order to the universe. And if the gods deem we not join again in Babylon, then I pray that you find what you are looking for, and the answers to the mysteries within yourself. And when I come back from China, and surely I will for the stars have promised, I will search for you, and I will find you, my dearest Ulrika."

15

THE PUNGENT SMELL OF lamb's wool and goat hides mingled with the scent from the oil lamp as Ulrika struck a flint and lit the wick.

     Flickering light illuminated the tent, which was still dark inside as the sun had yet to rise. Soon, sunlight would flood the tent and cooking aromas would invade the cloistered atmosphere of her private tent.

     As Ulrika combed her long hair, she paused to lay her hand upon the scallop shell on her breast, its presence a reassuring promise of her reunion with Sebastianus. She and her escort had left Antioch weeks ago, but in the time since, she had been unsuccessful in finding her mother in Jerusalem. And so Ulrika had given orders to Syphax to take her to Babylon, where she would join Sebastianus's caravan.

     Her heart raced at the thought of seeing him again. When they had said farewell in Antioch, to follow their separate roads, Ulrika had not been prepared for the terrible feeling of emptiness that had filled her in the days that followed. As she had ridden in the covered carriage, in the escort of Syphaxand his men, following an ancient road southward, an unaccustomed sadness had enveloped her. She had needed to tap into all her will power to keep from giving orders to turn back and join Sebastianus.

     She could not bear to be parted from him.

     She and her escort had left Jerusalem the day before and stopped for the night at the base of the hills that looked out upon a bleak, arid region of unending rock and sand. Their next stop was Jericho, from which they would take an ancient trade route across the desert to Babylon. Ulrika trembled with excitement. She had spent every waking moment thinking about Sebastianus, their last night together in Antioch, their passionate kiss. She would close her eyes and feel him again, his body, his power. His touch. His taste. In Babylon, Ulrika and Sebastianus would be free to love at last.

     And then Sebastianus will go to China while I search for Shalamandar and its crystal pools. My love and I will be reunited after that, of this I am sure.

     Stepping out of the tent, Ulrika was surprised to find, in the crisp pale dawn, a deserted campsite. She looked around. Syphax and his men were nowhere to be seen. Had they gone hunting, perhaps? Or in search of fuel for the fire? As sunlight broke over the ragged cliffs, illuminating the campsite, Ulrika saw that the horses and pack mules and tents were gone.

     Turning in a slow circle, she scanned the wilderness, the sharp wind in her face, and all she saw were barren cliffs and dun-colored hills. Golden rays of dawn were dissolving shadows in their path, leaving a tawny wilderness to stretch in all directions beneath a clear blue sky. There was little greenery, despite the spring equinox having just been celebrated. This barren land was populated with rocks and stones, boulders and sand, canyons and plateaus—but no people.

     Ulrika knew why the men had snuck off into the night: she had told Syphax she was out of money and that he and his men would only be compensated when they re-joined his employer's caravan. Ulrika knew the sort of men Syphax and his comrades were: men who followed the nearest coin. They had grumbled about going to China and falling off the edge of the earth. This would have been their chance to cut ties with Sebastianus Gallus and find safer and more profitable employment elsewhere. Nodoubt they had heard of more lucrative employment while they were in Jerusalem.

     At least, Ulrika saw with relief, they had not left her without provisions. At the doorway of the tent were a sack of lentils, a bag of bread, and a generous waterskin. And they had left one donkey, its tether tied to a rock while the beast munched on weeds.

     As the sun crested the hilltops, Ulrika took her bearings. Jericho lay a few miles to the northeast. Directly ahead, although she could not see it, lay the Sea of Salt, the terminus of the Jordan River. I will go east, she decided, and turn northward when I reach the sea. At Jericho I can join a caravan to Babylon.