Authors: Isobel Chace
Gaston shrugged his shoulders.
‘
You see her as
a
little girl, but
she
is not that to me. I will look after her, Marion, and see she behaves as she ought but I think she can lo
ok
after herself very well. She has always had to look after herself and
she
has seen much of the bad
side of life.
Lucasta is nobody
’
s fool. She will be very careful before she finally gives her heart.
’
He didn
’
t have to add that he intended that she should give her heart to him. Marion knew that already. She looked at the young
man
with a new respect, realising that he had summed up his beloved
’
s life far more accurately than she had herself. Lucasta did have the robustness of a young weed, and the native caution of the neglected child who had
t
o bring herself up as best
she
could.
‘
I
’
m glad she has you,
’
she said aloud. She smiled at him, glad to lay her burden of care squarely on his shoulders.
‘
I
’
m fond of her, disruptive as she can be in any classroom. She
’
s like her un
cl
e in some ways, isn
’
t
sh
e
?
’
She wondered at his amused glance, but ignored it as of being of no importance. It had been a perfectly ordinary thing to say.
‘
Why didn
’
t you wait for Mr
.
Randall to bring you here
?
’
Gaston asked her.
She was tongue-tied, with a lump in her throat the size of a tennis ball
‘
He said he wouldn
’
t. He said nothing would induce
him
to bring me here
!
’
He hadn
’
t actually said that, but he had certainly
implied it.
‘
He could have told you all about it,
’
Gaston persevered in the face of her obvious misery.
‘
They have guides to do that,
’
sh
e answered.
The restaurant led out of the lounge. It had no windows and was lit by oriental lights
hanging
from the ceiling, their multi-coloured glass
fragmenting the light
against the plum-coloured walls. It was only when they were seated at their table that Marion realised they were inside a cave of sorts. The straight walls and ceiling had confused her when she had first looked round the room, but now she could see clearly the marks of the chisels as they had dressed the inside of the soft stone. Had this been one of the dwellings the Nabateans
had
carved out of the sides of
the hills?
Was
this
what she could expect Petra itself to be like?
Lucasta refused to be excited by her discovery.
‘
Tourist bait,
’
she scoffed. She put her head on one side, smiling across the table at Marion.
‘
You
’
re so
naive
!
’
she decided.
‘
Isn
’
t she, Gaston
?’
‘
Elle
est cha
r
m
ante
,’
he co
mmen
ted approvingly, but Marion could see that he agreed with Lucasta that she was easily impressed.
‘
Why shouldn
’
t it be genuine
?’
she demanded.
‘M
aybe it is,
’
Gaston said.
‘
The interesting thing is the formation of the roof. Can you see the different colours swirling into one another? It is pretty, no? And it tells much about the rock here. Did you know that Edom means red, that is how the Edomites got their name. Only afterwards did it become Petra, from the Latin word for
a
rock—
’
‘
Oh, Gaston, don
’
t you start! I don
’
t want to know about rocks and
things like
that! I want to know about the people who lived here. What do you know about them
?
’
Lucasta interrupted him.
Gaston grinned at her.
‘
What should I know but what your un
cl
e told me last night? He said that both the Edomites and the Nabateans claimed direct descent from Ishmad, the first sons of Abraham. He had two daughters, Bashemath and Nabaioth. Bashemath was one of the three wives of Esau, whom sly Jacob tricked out of his inheritance
. The
Edomites claimed descent from her, and the Nabateans from her sister. They must have been named after her.
’
‘
It was the Nabateans who carved the
city
of Petra out of the mountainside,
’
Marion added dreamily. ‘I
wonder who lived here
?’
‘T
o get into Petra you have to go through the Syq, a narrow passage cut by water through the hills. Ibis is outside and vulnerable to attack Perhaps someone was buried here.
’
L
ucasta shivered.
‘
In here? What a horrid thought
!
’
‘
Is it not
?’
Pleased with her reaction, Gaston forgot his role as an authority on the subject and started telling ghost stories instead until Lucasta was wide-eyed with fright arid Marion called a halt.
‘
Nobody is going to rattle their bones in here,
’
she
said firmly,
‘
or anywhere else for that matter. Be quiet, Gaston
!
’
He smiled gleefully at Lucasta
’
s white face.
‘
She is a little naive too
,
no
?
’
he said to Marion.
‘
Drinking in every word of the horrible events of the past
.
I
’
m sure she believes that
the
bloodthirsty Amaziah cast ten thousand Edomites to their death off the top of the mountain
!’
He shook his head.
‘
Not so.
N
ot even the Is
r
aelites were as cruel as that! The Hebrew word
alaf
can be translated as “thousands”, or “families”, “clans
’’
or “tents”—
’
‘
But some of them were killed
?
’
Lucasta interposed.
‘
Of course,
’
he said.
‘
T
he Israelites and the Edomites
hated each other. Even after David had claimed sanctuary with them when Saul was trying to end his life, he
still
sent his general Joab to do battle with them as soon as he came to the throne, and told his army to slaughter
th
em to a man.
’
‘
Who told you that
?
’
Lucasta breathed.
‘
Your un
cl
e, who else
?
’
he laughed at her.
Lucasta smiled faintly,
beginning
to feel a little bett
e
r.
‘
I fe
el
rather sorry for the poor Edomites,
’
she said.
Gaston chuckled.
‘
They were good haters, but
the
Israelites were better! The Hebrews excelled in their Songs of Triumph and loved to dance
on
the graves of their enemies. When Jerusalem
fell
to Babylon and poor King Zedekiah of Judah was led away with all h
i
s people into captivity, the Edomites, who
h
ad had nothing to do with their defeat, sang a triumphant song of their own. “Down with it, down with it
,
even to the ground,” they san
g
, delighted that Jerusalem, that hated symbol of Judean tyranny, had been reduced to rubble. But the Jews rememb
er
ed this humiliation over the years. In the 137th Psalm they called on God, “Remember, O Lord,
th
e children of Edom in the day of Jerusalem; how they said
,
Down with it, down with it, even to the ground”
!’
‘
Did Gregory tell you that too?
’
Marion asked him, laughing.
Gaston lifted his hands expressively.
‘
It was not the end of the story. The Edomites moved northwards and became the Idumites and were completely absorbed by their old enemies.
King
Herod was of their blood, and it was held against him, but he was nevertheless the last of the temporal kings of the Jews.
’
‘
So Edom remained unloved until the end?
’
Marion said sadly.
‘
I hope the Nabateans fared better
?
’
‘
You will see for yourself.
’
Gaston promised her.
‘
Mr
.
Randall says they had the seeds of greatness within them.
’
It was a highly satisfactory prospect to be setting out to see some of the towers that this ancient people had created, Marion thought
.
She was half in love with them already, if this cave was typical of their achievements.
‘
What are we going to do this afternoon
?
’
she asked.
‘
There are horses,
’
Gaston told her
,
‘
but I have made enquiries and it
i
s better to make one
’
s official visit in the morning, when one comes out of the Syq and there is the Khasneh, the Treasury, the most famous of all the buildings, with the s
u
n on its face. We
sha
ll have plenty of time in the morning to do this, and a guide will come with us then and explain it all to us. This afternoon, I thought we might walk through the Syq by ourselves and maybe climb up to the High Place.
’
‘
Marion won
’
t want to do that,
’
Lucasta decided for her.
‘
You and I can go up to the top and tell her what it
’
s like afterwards.
’
‘
And what is Marion to do
?
’
Gaston asked her drily.
Lucasta coloured guiltily.
‘
But you don
’
t want to, do you, Marion? There must be other things to look at
!
’
‘
I’ll
find something,
’
Marion reassured her.
‘
If
the hidden
valley inside the hills stretches for ten square
miles, I ought to be able to keep out of your way for an hour or so.
’
‘
You do
n’t mind?’
The younger girl looked so hot and bothered that Marion took pity on her.
‘
No, I don
’
t mind.
I’ll
have your company for the hike through the Syq, what more can I want?
Lucasta smiled uncomfortably.
‘
It
’
s a three-mile walk, there and back,
’
sh
e pointed out
.
Marion broke into delighted laughter.
‘
I’ll
try to keep up,
’
she
promised,
‘
my ancient bones permitting
!’