By the time she was fourteen it was obvious that she outshone her father in her knowledge of the stars. When she spoke on Leucippus, Democritus, Aristotle, people listened and learned. It was said that the Patriarch consulted her regularly though death would come fast to any who reported such a thing. She was a pagan and said so loud and clear and her advice was plain to all.
``Read the forbidden texts,'' she would say. ``All words instruct the thoughtful mind.''
One day a christian mob would tear her to bits with the broken roof tiles from the burned down library, the library in which she spent her childhood, but now she still walked in honor in the streets and young men fell in love with her and she repelled them relentlessly.
But one boy dogged her footsteps day and night. Stood at the window of her home. Called out his undying love even in the presence of her husband.
Perhaps it was not so easy to resist him. It was said she remained a virgin. The boy was handsome and articulate. At first it was only her steps that were impeded by his presence, but when she found her thoughts disrupted she turned on him and reached under her clothes and brought out her menstrual cloth and flung it in the boy's face.
``Is this what you want?'' she screamed. ``Is this what you crave? Then take it! Take it! It is my bane and you are welcome to it!''
The boy fled weeping in the night. A small child picked up the bloody cloth. She took it from him and returned it close against her body.