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… quite enlightened pared to ancient Eastern despotism； and yet there lay beneath all this the knowledge and customs and possibly the wisdom of the mysterious East。
The Romans had conquered Antioch early on because it was a huge trade center。 It was unique in this way； as Jacob showed to me； drawing a crude map with his wet finger on the wooden table。 Antioch was a port of the great Mediterranean because she was only twenty miles up the Orontes River。
Yet on the Eastern side she was open to the desert： all the old caravan routes came to Antioch； the camel merchants who brought fantastic wares from fabled lands … lands we know now to have been India and China … silk； carpet and jewels which never reached the markets of Rome。
Countless other traders came and went to Antioch。 Fine roads connected it in the East with the Euphrates River and the Parthian Empire beyond； and to the South you could go to Damascus and Judea； and to the North； of course； lay all the cities made by Alexander； which had flowered under Roman rule。
Roman soldiers loved it there。 It was an easy and interesting life。 And Antioch loved the Romans because the Romans protected the trade routes； and the caravans； and kept peace in the port。
〃You will find open places； arcades； Temples； all that you seek and such markets you would not believe。 There are Romans everywhere。 I hope to One Most High that you are not recognized by someone from your own background！ That is one danger of which your Father had no time to plan。〃
I waved it away。
〃Does it have teachers now； and markets of books？〃
〃From everywhere。 You will find books which no one can read。 And Greek is spoken by everyone。 You have to go out in the country to find some poor farmer who does not understand Greek。 Latin has now bee mon。
〃The philosophers never stop； they speak of Plato and Pythagoras； names that don't mean much to me； they talk about Chaldean magic from Babylon。 Of course there are Temples to every imaginable god。〃
He went on； reflecting as he spoke：
〃The Hebrews？ I think personally they are too worldly … they want to hang around in short tunics with the Greeks and go to the public baths。 They are too interested in the Greek philosophy。 It invades everything； all this thinking that Greeks did。 Not good。 But a Greek city is an inviting world。〃
He glanced up。 His Father was watching over us； and we were too dose together； at this table on the deck。
He hastily filled me in on other facts：
Germanicus Julius Caesar； heir to the Imperial throne； the official adopted son of Tiberius； had been granted the Imperium Maius in Antioch。 That is； he controlled all of this territory。 And Gnaeus Calpurnius Piso was the governor of Syria。
I assured him that they would know nothing of me or my old…fashioned family or our quiet； old house on the Palatine Hill； squeezed between so many other extravagant new mansions。
〃It's all Roman…style；〃 Jacob protested。 〃You'll see。 And you e with money！ And forgive me； but you are still beautiful at your age； you have fresh skin and you move your limbs like a girl。〃
I sighed and gave Jacob thanks。 Time for him to break away unless we wanted his Father ing down upon us。
I watched the ever rolling blue waves。
I was thankful in secret that our family had withdrawn from the parties and banquets at the Imperial Palace； but then I blamed myself for such thankfulness； knowing that our reclusiveness must have paved the way for our downfall。
I'd seen Germanicus on his triumphal procession through Rome； a gorgeous young man； much as Alexander had been； and I knew from my Father and my brothers that Tiberius； fearing the popularity of his appointed heir； had sent him off to the East to get him away from the Roman crowds。
The Governor Piso？ I had never laid eyes on him。 The gossip was that he was sent East to devil Germanicus。 Oh； such a waste of talent and thought。
Jacob returned to me。
〃Well； you go nameless and unknown into this vast city；〃 said Jacob。 〃And you have protectors of high character who are beloved of Germanicus。 He's young and sets a tone of vitality and gaiety in the city。〃
〃And Piso？〃 I asked。
〃Everyone hates him。 Especially the soldiers； and you know what that means in a Roman province。〃
You can look at the crashing； undulating sea from the railing of a deck forever； or just for so long。
That night I had my second blood dream。 It was keenly similar to the first。 I was thirsty for blood。 And enemies were after me； enemies that knew I was a demon and must be destroyed。 I was running。 My own kind had forsaken me； thrust me out unprotected to the superstitions of the people。 Then I saw the desert and knew I would die； I awoke； sitting up and crying out； but covering my mouth quickly so no one heard it。
What disturbed me so terribly was the thirst for blood。 I could not imagine such a thing when I was awake； but in these dreams I was the monster that Romans called the Lamia。 Or so it seemed。 Blood was sweet； blood was all。 Was the old Greek Pythagoras right？ Souls do migrate from body to body？ But my soul in this past life had been that of a monster。
During the day； I dosed my eyes now and then and found myself dangerously on the edge of the dream； as if it were a trap in my mind； waiting to engulf my consciousness。 But at night； that is when they came most strongly。 You have served me before！ What could this mean？ e to me。
Blood thirst。 I closed my eyes； curled up in bed and prayed； 〃Mother Isis； Cleanse my Mind of this Blood madness。〃
Then I resorted to plain old ordinary eroticism。 Get Jacob into bed！ No such luck。 Little did I know that Hebrews had been； and would be forever； the most difficult of men to seduce！
It was all made dear with great grace and tact。
I considered all the slaves。 Out of the question。 First off were the galley slaves； among whom no great 〃Ben Hur〃 was chained； waiting for me to rescue him。 They were just the dregs of the criminal poor； fastened Roman…style； so they would drown if the ship went down； and they were dying； as all galley slaves do from the monotony and the whip。 It wasn't a pleasant sight to go down into the hold of a galley ship and see those men bending their backs。
But my eyes were as cold as those of an American watching color television pictures of the starving babies of Africa； little black skeletons with big heads screaming for water。 News Break； mercial Break； Sound Bite； CNN now switches to Palestine： rock throwing； rubber bullets。 Television blood。
The rest on board were boring sailors； and two old pious merchant Hebrews who stared at me as if I were a whore； or worse； and turned their heads whenever I came out on deck in my long tunic with my long hair swinging free。
Such a disgrace I must have seemed！ But what a fool I was then； really； living in numbness； and how pleasant that voyage … all because true grief and rage had not yet taken hold of me。 Things had happened too fast。
I gloated over my last glimpse of my Father dispatching those soldiers of Tiberius； those cheap assassins sent by a cowardly； indecisive Emperor。 And the rest … I banished it from my mind； affecting the attitude of the hardened Roman man or woman。
A modern Irish poet； Yeats； best characterizes the official Roman attitude towards failure and tragedy。
Cast a cold eye on life； on death。 Horseman； pass by！
There was never a Roman born who would not have agreed with that。
That was my stance … sole survivor of a great house； manded by her Father to 〃live。〃 I didn't dare to dwell on the fate of my brothers； their lovely wives； their little children。 I couldn't envision the slaughter of the children … little boys being run through by broadswords； or babies bashed against the wall。 Oh； Rome； you and your bloody old wisdom。 Be sure to kill the offspring。 Kill the whole family！
Lying alone at night； I found myself amid more horrid blood dreams。 They seemed fragments of a lost life； a lost land。 Deep echoing vibrant tones of music dominated the dreams； as though someone were striking a gong； and others beside him beat solemnly on deep drums with soft coverings。 I saw in a haze a world of stiff and flat alien paintings on the walls。 Painted eyes around me。 I drank blood！ I drank it from a small shuddering human being； who knelt before me as if I were Mother Isis。
I woke to take the big jug of water by my bed and drink all of it down。 I drank water to defy and satisfy this dream thirst。 I was almost sick from drinking water。
I racked my mind。 Had I ever had such dreams as a child？
No。 And now these dreams had the heat of recollection！ Of initiation into the doomed Temple of Isis； when it had been still the fashion。 I had been intoxicated； and drenched in the blood of a bull； and dancing wildly in circles。 My head was filled with the litanies of Isis。 We were promised rebirth！ 〃Never tell； never tell； never tell。。。〃 How could an initiate tell anything of the rites； when you were so drunk you could hardly remember them？
Isis brought me memories now of lovely music of lyres； flutes； timbrels； of the high magical sound of the metal strings of the sistrum； which the Mother Herself held in her hand。 There were only fleeting recollection