Chapter 5

Rybba lay on the hard cot that Andrew, Simon's brother, had made for her. It was made of flexible branches tied together with rawhide and wrapped with a thick wool pad. A large sheet sewn from several pieces of lambskin was stretched over that. A blanket made of soft animal hair was available to cover her and keep her warm.

"In heaven, they have beds that move when you touch them," she told the two brothers. "They adjust to any position for your comfort, and they are softer than lamb's wool." She realized she sounded like a commercial, except she couldn't remember what a commercial was.

Simon and Andrew had asked her other questions, many of a theological nature. Rybba was incredibly uninformed for a fallen angel, but they realized God had taken away much of her memory. She was sent here to learn, after all.

She did remember where she lived in heaven. She had lived in a beautiful room with light shining right through the walls. From her room, she could see images of anywhere in the world, and the music... 'Oh, the music was so alive and vibrant!'

And when she left her place and went out into heaven, she was surrounded by tall, slender structures that reflected the bright sunlight right into her eyes. They were so tall that they grazed the sky. She would get dizzy looking up, trying to see how far they went.

Rybba never once doubted Simon's explanation for why she was here on Earth. As the weeks and months passed, she learned to read the strange symbols they used to describe the images in their minds. She even learned to read and write in Greek and Aramaic, although she never really mastered them or the old language of the chosen people well enough to help the scribes in the community with their work of copying The True Words and sending them out into the world to fight Ambrose's lies.

During the years she stayed with Simon and the others, Rybba became very religious; an odd statement to make about an angel that was cast out of heaven. But she learned about Jesus and the message of hope and self-worth that He had tried to spread to a barbaric world. He was so pure that others – even those who professed to be His friends – coveted His blood because it could heal in a godly fashion.

She also learned about the advantages of having drunk the blood of The Christ, as they called Him. Those who had drunk from the cup of Christ, either during that last meal when He had revealed His secret to His followers or from the cup that was used to collect His blood as it flowed down from the wound in His side, were almost impossible to kill. Over the many years that followed, each discovered that they were immune to aging, as well.

Rybba came to realize that, somehow, she also had the blood of The Christ flowing in her veins. She had the same ability to heal herself as Simon or any of the others in the community. The appointed leader of the community, Thaddeus Lebbaeus, allowed her to be tested to determine if she were divine, as He had been, or merely a recipient of His divine gift.

Rybba was disappointed to learn that her blood could not cure anyone except herself. But she did have special status in the community because she could speak directly to others, in the same manner as He had, simply by touching them. The 'unfortunate' thing about that, as she learned when she accidentally overheard Thaddeus and Matthew discussing her was, basically...

She has nothing to say...

After some weeks, Rybba found her niche in the community. She began accompanying Simon and others when they traveled and needed to barter for goods. Rybba would flirt with the merchants, like a zonah, touching them and sometimes flashing her koos, as Simon called it.

Later, when her companion was bartering with the merchant, Rybba would be in physical contact, innocently holding her companion's arm. Because of her earlier contact with the merchant, she would still be somewhat linked to him, and she would mentally let her bargaining companion know when cheating was attempted.

Twice, over the years, their little caravan was attacked as they returned laden with supplies for the months ahead. Both times they fought off the thieves. Both times, Rybba was badly wounded. Both times, fortunately for Simon, it was he who was with her, and was the recipient of the incredible sex that Rybba seemed capable of only when she was mortally wounded. Simon was ecstatic to discover that Rybba's divine powers of recuperation didn't require the sacrifice of a victim's blood. She wasn't the abomination he had named her, after all.

After several years, when it became evident that God was not going to come down any time soon to retrieve his fallen angel, Simon took Rybba as his fourth wife. As a wife, she was disappointed to discover that she was no longer exempt from the mores of the community and was expected to keep her little koos to herself and, of course, be available for Simon.

Stoning was the accepted method of correcting errant morals, and, although Rybba was mostly un-killable, she didn't much like the idea of a bunch of angry townspeople throwing rocks at her. Besides, if she, a fallen angel, were caught in an adulteress situation, Thaddeus might make an example of her and cut off her head, sending her soul back to heaven minus her heavenly body. She was quite proud of that body and wasn't anxious to lose it. 'Oh, that's another sin, isn't it?'

Rybba never had any children with Simon. She really didn't want children because Simon had told her that any children sired by one who had supped from the cup of Christ would live an unnaturally long life and be cursed by the mortality of those he loved and cherished, watching them age and eventually die while he (or she) didn't.

Simon also believed that, as an angel, Rybba would probably never age. She would live to see Simon and any children she had, no matter how long they might live, die of old age long before she was recalled to heaven. Rybba could see in Simon's mind that this was the mantel that God had placed on her. She accepted it as she did everything she saw in Simon's wonderful mind.

She also knew that her independence and fierce pride kept her from being able to receive God's mercy, but she was, for now, unwilling to give them up as she felt those qualities were what made her who she truly was. She liked who she was, even if she didn't know her true name.

After another century, what Simon had foreseen for the angel came to pass. Rybba didn't age at all while Simon and the others in their long-lived community began to grow old and feeble. On his deathbed, Simon once again touched her and joined his mind with hers, trying to make her understand the harsh, lonely road ahead of her. She would suffer endlessly for her pride and arrogance until she learned to truly humble herself before Hwhy. Only then would she be permitted to age and die so she could return to heaven.

Rybba knelt by the side of his bed as they came and carried Simon away to be wrapped and placed in the caves with those who had gone before. Her head was covered, hiding the tears running down her face. She slowly and methodically tore her garment according to their custom. She didn't cry out her pain and anguish as was customary, for she had known, for the century that she and Simon had shared, that her destiny, her mowt, was to lose all she loved. She accepted that, and did not bemoan her fate.

But none of that meant that she hadn't learned to love him over the years they were together. Her mentor was gone. That which gave her life meaning was taken from her.

'Please, God, if you can hear me, please let me come home... '

She closed her eyes and wished hard. 'Bring me home... '

The air was suddenly warmer. Inhaling, she smelled candle wax. The incredibly loud sound of church bells blasted the grief from her mind for a moment. Her eyes flew open! 'I'm in a church!'

Stunned by the sounds surrounding her, she looked wildly around, beginning to panic. She held her hands up to her ears, trying to block out the sounds of the bells. After a moment, they stopped. She could only hear a voice, wailing loudly in protest. After a few seconds, she realized... 'That's me making all that noise!'

With an effort, she closed her mouth. Silence fell over her. A priest was approaching, half-walking, half-running. He didn't look very happy. As he drew near, he began talking to her. Rybba didn't understand the words he used, but he seemed to be scolding her. He was frowning and looking at her shepherd's clothing. His hand and arm motions were unmistakable. He wanted her to leave. Right now!

Rybba turned to flee and tripped over a padded railing. Her hood slipped, displaying her fiery golden hair. She turned away and half-rose to flee again.

"Attende!" the priest called out, suddenly more friendly. "Ne pas bouger!"

"Kalos?" Rybba asked, still frightened. "Asunetos..." 'What? I don't understand... '

"Ah!" the priest said, much more pleasantly. "You speak Greek!"

"Alla," Rybba replied, and nodded nervously. She was still backing away slowly, not knowing what to expect from this strange, dark-robed figure.

"Where am I?" she asked, not certain if she should give him that kind of an advantage over her.

"In Milan, of course," the priest informed her. "Specifically, you are standing in the Basilica of Saint Ambrose."

She blinked several times. The name seemed familiar.

"Where is your master?" the priest asked her.

"My master?" Rybba said, not understanding.

"Yes," the priest insisted. "Your master, your ... guardian?"

"Oh," Rybba replied. She cast her eyes downward. "Nekros."

"Ah!" he said, suddenly understanding her situation. "Then you are here to join the convent."

Rybba's eyes looked sharply upward at him.

"For your year of mourning, of course," the priest continued, clarifying his question.

Rybba mutely nodded, then waited. 'They can take care of me until I understand what's happened to me ... until I understand what I should do.'

The priest raised his arm and bade her to follow him.

In the convent, the section of the monastery set aside for women in seclusion, she found life very similar to the life she led in the hills above Murrabba'at. With mortar and pestle she ground herbs and small amounts of grain. She sewed; repairing frocks the priests wore and making garments for the children who lived in the church's orphanage. She also worked in the kitchens of the orphanage, and, if not there, then in the convent, itself.

Her name, Rybba, was not well accepted among the other women, as it was a word used by the blasphemers who lived across the Tyrrhenian Sea.

Rybba confessed that she did not know her real name, and that her master had named her when he took her from Pavia. When asked if she was an orphan, Rybba admitted that she believed she was, but begged the headmistress' forgiveness for her inability to remember where she came from or her lineage.