VIII G IDES Sept – E Third
hour of the day 778
AUC
-
Machba`nel clambered up the rocky embankment on two good feet, with toes that pushed together the mud trapped between the newly reformed and restored digits. Throwing himself to the ground to lift up one foot and then the other,
to stare at them in utter disbelief, his wild whooping
cries answered by the ravens in the trees, drawn by
the promise of scraps left behind at the campsites during the day. Then he leaped to his feet, dancing like a man stomping
out stinging ants on the soles of his feet, whooping
still louder, utterly mad with joy and snatches of praise that included GOD’S forbidden name as often as some reference to Neptune’s navel! Or…one
of those Latin sounding gods.
Hilkiah wanted to reach out and touch the stranger as he passed, eyes downcast
respectfully before the might of Rome, but if he returned the gesture, even to support himself in the oddly fluctuating river’s
flow, he would be put to death! Nor could he explain the strange desire suddenly burning in his heart to
know about this young man and the oddly appealing figure to whom he handed the square of folded clothes as they moved away
from the clotted crowds to walk to the far shore of the river. The men standing on the eastern flank of the river fell back
in fear and awe, leaving them in a circle of humanity too numb to dare to speak to the rather ordinary man as he drew his
clothes over his damp form and ran his fingers through his shoulder length hair to pull it back out of his eyes as it dried.
“ Wait here for me until I return, my friend. “ Jesus repeated a second time, his face gentle as he watched the
struggle in his friend’s face. Had this been
the same youth he’d accompanied here, Hilkiah would have felt honor bound to argue, for the wilderness was no place
for a man to be alone, not with darkness coming!
“ Yes, LORD. “ He agreed meekly.
The
water was uncomfortably cold as he waded across a third time. Fires becoming more evident as twilight drew near. Although
it was spring and the weather was warming, one of the many rainstorms had clouded the distinction between evening and light’s
true failure and as he slipped on his clothing and wrapped his dusty cloak around his knees he was grateful for the empirical
summons from the newly healed Roman, who had a fire going and fresh fish roasting on thin splints of wood. Only a Roman would
have access to a fresh fish and Hilkiah found his mouth watering as he approached. ‘Surely’, he rationalized, as he moved toward the welcomed shelter and warmth,
‘if the man was deemed worthy of being healed by the Mighty One, Blessed be His Name, than he could surely be excused
for seeking brief respite beside him.’ He braced himself for a hundred questions but the man seated beside him
seemed too engrossed by his newly restored flesh, wigging his toes and poking at them with a short stick until the flesh indented.
Sharing slices from the wheel of cheese Judith had slipped into his knapsack, he sipped on the excellent wine the Roman
provided, who’d said with evident pride that it was from his mother’s own vineyard. The warmth of the water and
wine and the growing ease he was feeling with the scarred man, who unexpectedly had shared a Jewish upbringing they could
both poke fun at, Hilkiah felt comfortable enough to let down his guard toward strangers. Yet when their talk became personal
and deep, he didn’t turn aside as he usually did. There was something about the man who was only four years older than
himself, although he seemed decades older and wiser, that reminded him of his long dead father Jezreel, awakening an ache and sense of loss that he thought he’d buried with his second
child’s birth mantle.
“ Don’t ever call me Isaac. I mean when we sober up. “ The scarred warrior warned him unnecessarily, then he laughed
about how the recruitment sergeant had mistaken his description given by another who spoke a modicum of the popularly used
language for his name and he’d been Marc to his Roman friends and Machba`nel to the world at large for the last two decades. “ Tonight, I’d just like to hear it heard. For
on the morrow I shall be sober, and now that I am healed, however the great Prophet did it... “
He sighed and looked up at the darkness dripping off the front of the slanted cloth that was their roof. “
I shall take up my interrupted life. If Keren-happuch’s father hasn’t already married her off, thinking
me dead! “
He tried to rise to his feet, as if the urgency of his ride had suddenly imprinted itself on his drunken mind, but
he fell backwards against his companion, and they both laughed, the guard down between both of them. At least for the night.
Hilkiah was looking for a place to lay his spinning head when a gleaming sword was suddenly thrust under his chin,
forcing down the loose bile and bits of soured food that had pushed up in rebellion against additional wine, no matter how
sweet it tasted on his tongue! He was reaching up to push one of the three swords away from his throat
when the man crouched in the rain spoke in harsh angry tones that drove away the blur of wine and ease.
“
Tell me where you buried the man whose clothes and goods you’ve stolen and I might be persuaded to allow you
to live! “
Hilkiah swung his body to the right, thrusting his overheated brow out into the chill rain as his stomach emptied nosily.
“ Apulio! Apulio! It’s me! Ba’nel!
“
The stunned man gasped, trying not to be affected by the harsh sounds of retching on the other side of the tent.
“
It can’t be! Man, unhand me. It’s death to touch a Roman! “
Hilkiah watched and listened incredulous with shock as, the two soldiers had reaffirmed their relationship though none
of the offered explanations seemed sufficient to answer the burly sergeant’s questions, who simply dismissing it as
a mistake rather than a miracle. For the sake of the second hand sandals he’d freely shared while they were yet strangers,
the burly warrior pulled back the unconscious form and covered him with a rough blanket before moving to the front of the
tent, to squat in the dancing light cast by the flame as rational thought came over him with the slow evacuation of the wine
and shock. The only way they differed was his own inability to dismiss the rot and corruption that had nearly taken his life
when he’d crawled away to die rather than be seen in extremis by his long time friend and mentor. By mutual consent, Machba`nel and Apulio walked away from the men now squatting by
the fire, drinking up the remainder of the wine. There was scarcely room enough for one under the waterproofed
tarp so they left the front flap open and leaned against the inward curve of the rock to allow them to divide the small dry
space. For several minutes the only sound was the other man’s breathing and the thickening patter of raindrops on the hide roof.
“
Was it a trick, a test, Marcus? “ Apulio questioned, ready to accept any
answer, except the silence his glum companion offered.
Machba`nel
felt his companion tense in shame but he spoke in the darkness without touching the older man anywhere but where their flesh
touched naturally in the halving of the unequal space.
“
If it was, I hoped I passed His scrutiny. “
“
Xavier accepted you a long time ago, Calone! “ The bullock loo’ed over the leaned, scarred man’s internal wrestling’s.
Like the man of old struggling with the Angel of the LORD, who touched his hip and made him limp for the remainder of his
life, changing his name from Jacob, the Supplanter to Israel, one who contents with GOD. Perhaps his mother and
father misnamed him. But trying to say so to his brutish friend only added to Apulio’s confusion. “ There are many gods. I do not remember your Hebrew One,
but I’m sure, if Zeus is even a pale representation,
as your mother insists, then if you’re alive. You passed the test. “ He offered dryly.
Machba`nel
laughed out loud, the joy of life flooding in on him. He’d been afraid to breath too hard, to move too fast, for fear
the healing would disappear and he would be worse off than before, but a man who couldn’t remember which side of a numeral
you placed another to add to it or subtract from it had hit upon a cosmic truth with the simplicity of a child. On the pretext
of needing to relieve himself he allowed his friend to take the drier place where the rock reflected back the meager heat
of their bodies, and joyfully, because he’d been conditioned to endure many things on the battlefield, and he had obviously
been returned to this one, but this time, as Yahweh’s warrior, Blessed be His name!
The next morning, Apulio exchanged the golden stallion for the wearied but excited mare, promising to return to Jerusalem
as swiftly as he could without doing harm to the docile mare, so he could inform Machba`nel’s family of his shocking
return to health. Promising to return as soon as he was sure the young Nazarene was safe. Promising to return as soon as possible.
It was another three days before he left, however, tiring of watching the skyline at each movement of fresh pilgrims to come
to be baptized by John or to mock him. They would meet again; of this he was sure! Why else would he have saved a man useless
to Rome except to call him to His own service? A service he would give gladly, not for the healing alone, but how he felt
himself being near the gentle and remarkable carpenter from Nazareth.
-
*
-
Aenon, near Salim
=
As the dawning of the Sunday sun brought a second week into being, Hilkiah’s spirit was moved because his son
Noah was so restless. Tonight being the first day of celebration for Sukkoth, it did seem strange to him not
to be in Jerusalem celebrating the exuberant festival, or not to be building the familiar roofless booth on the sloping hill
behind the house with his wife and the many children of the house near by offering ‘suggestions’ that were at
odds with each other, and stranger still to have to purchase the four species of trees for the Lulav from
a startled stranger. But so many customs ordinary to his life had ceased the moment he followed the Master down the steep
trail from Nazareth to the Via Mares. For himself he was content to wait beside the river until the LORD
returned, for he had made this pledge when he was three years younger than his son Noah was now and not a married man with
a young wife and new baby to need to lord it over. But as hard as he prayed he saw no softening in own flesh and blood as
he had in the hard bitten Roman soldier, Noah was still thinking of Jesus as Joseph’s eldest son, who’d been in
authority over him at the carpenter shop in Nazareth, no matter what the whispers of his elders that this boys, and then young
man and now adult had been set aside by the Most High to one day rule over Israel as her rightful king. He
was seriously considering asking the boy to return home to ‘guard’ his mother and family when two familiar voices
rang out across the thickening scents of wood smoke as the people who had camped along the river woke to their morning routines
under the threat of another variable spring day on the edge of the great wilderness.
“ Abba! Abba! Noah, my husband! You are well? “
Little Jerusha’s voice called in the exquisite joy of being returned to the arms of her young beloved. She thrust
the sleeping infant into the arms of the good natured old woman seated on the plank supporting the driver and his passengers
and then leapt down toward the bony rumps of the two bullocks pulling the cart before they even had time to respond to the
pull on their wars and stop, with much head shaking.
“ Why shouldn’t I be, Woman? “ He demanded
roughly, seeing the familiar, taunting figure of Joseph’s middle son Simon leap from the back of the heavy cart. But
the next instant her warmed, sun browned arms were around his neck and her lips were pressed hard against his in joy and excitement
and even Simon’s mocking superiority at being ten months older was briefly forgotten.
The oxen driver was grateful for their help as they lead the two wearied brutes to the small sloping hill of brown
and yellowed grass where they could drink their fill from an amphora sized hole bubbling up from the ground that refilled
as quickly as it was drained, and there rest with no thought of the return drive as his owner was required to do. Once unyoked
they were content to remain. With a quick, vague promise as thank you, he rushed off to speak with three of the Baptists disciples
were clustered near a small smoking fire pit, heating up stones to bake their flat bread.
“ Kiah? Hilkiah ben Jezreel? Is that you, or has your son gotten a little older than
I expected to find him? “
“ Cousin Elizabeth? You look so young and rested, I almost didn’t recognize you
either? “ He teased, making no effort to make the lie sound sincere. She
groaned a little as she helped herself down from the cart while the two young men strove to be the one to unload
the most before the other could.A large smooth stone had to suffice to hold the tongue of the ox cart, for as
soon as he saw Mary’s older cousin Elizabeth he was already making plans to sleep under the cart with sixteen year old
Simon and allow her the rough but effective shelter under the goat’s hair tent he and Noah had constructed for their
own modest needs. Since she was doubtless staying in town with relatives, for the ox driver had a local accent, her age would
probably prevent her from staying in such a crude camp for only a day or two, long enough to visit with her son John. He
was surprised by the small groan that slipped out from between his cracked lips as he straightened from putting a stone under
the wheel to keep it from slipping backwards and perhaps ending up in the mud of the river bank.
“
The way Jerusha is sweeping out the tent, we may have enough dust to make our hillock, Cousin Elizabeth.
“ He teased mildly, looking over his shoulder.
“
Clean women enjoy making a fuss over the amount of dirt they can garner. Don’t trouble yourself, she is as dear
a child as your own sweet Mara. Did I pass on your beloved wife’s best wishes? “
“ Yes thank you, you do. “ He agreed shyly, blushing
a little. “ The kiss was as from my heart’s own lips. “
Elizabeth
smiled at the failed attempt at gallantry. Hilkiah was much better with his hands and bringing out the beauty of wood grains
than he was for words of flattery, however well intentioned. She watched the groupings of
richly appointed men on the side of the river that likewise pointed to them as being from Jerusalem, but she was no longer
in the habit of sharing her thoughts aloud since her aged husband passed on to his reward, and the quiet carpenter was like
a small hill, set to her side for her comfort, not needing hers in return.
“ How like you Noah looks, and yet in his actions, he’s Judith’s son. Those big
staring eyes, the knobby knees. You have been faithful these thirty years, Kiah. And now our sons begin the task for which
they were appointed and born from our wombs to fulfill. It almost makes up for the loss of a mother’s son. “
“ Almost. “ He agreed, thinking of his brother
Asa’s wife Sari and their dead infant son for the first time in nearly three decades. Sari had never been the same after
that night, but she remained a faithful and dutiful wife in every other manner but the risk of conceiving another
child to bloody a Roman sword, and Asa seemed content with his life in Bethlehem. As he had been in Nazareth
till a couple of weeks ago when he recognized an odd sternness as Jesus set his own tools and his father’s tools in
order on the work bench, and gave the key to the shop to James, as first born son. They’d only
walked across the muddy compound, keeping to the buried stone mounds to track less dirt into the tiny and already crowded
hose on the other side of the courtyard. It had once been a rich man’s house when Joseph inherited with
the passing of an uncle who had no living heir but his sister’s son. But even so, with three wives sharing it, in order
of their rank, first Mary, then his own Judith and the lovely Rebecka, who spent most of her time at her widowed father’s
house because James was ‘uncomfortable’ having her live in the same house as his unmarried older brother. Which
would have stopped the gossips tongues were the older brother anyone but Mary’s sweet tempered first born
Jesus!
“
She wonders if he will return for the marriage supper of their cousins Joshua and Bernice in Cana at next month’s
New Moon? Did he give any idea of when he wouldreturn? “
“ None. Nor did I dare to question…He had that look… “
Words failed him, but the older woman pressed the cold of her fingers against his arm.
“ I’ve seen it. I know it. He left us as mere youth to walk...out there. Content to
be alone with his God. Mary Understands, and so do I. But I thought I’d ask… “
She changed the subject to his oldest living girl Mara and her children, and his beloved sister Salome’ and her
growing family and Hilkiah never guessed he was being lead away so adroitly from a sadness her mother’s heart knew too
well to burden another with it needlessly. In the end if was another three weeks and seven days from the time the Roman left
them impatiently, by odd coincidence to repair his union with Job ben Shelmiah’s beautiful daughter Keren-happuch.
‘Or were such things ‘coincidence’
if they were planned for before the creation of man or time by the Most High? Who knew all of a man’s ways
and choices before he even placed him in his mother’s womb? ‘
But since he lacked the ability to articulate all of the wonder, doubts, and questions that were surging through him
as John began to gather people of every rank and color to him like a speckled mother hen drowns downy yellow chicks that look
nothing like her to the safety of her wings, he simply kept silent, confident that Elizabeth would speak to him if she needed
anything directly from him.
*
-
H KC Feb – E Twelfth
hour of the day
778 AUC
Judea
-
Though Apulio had ridden the stallion hard, simply to avoid being stopped and questioned, or killed, as he feared for
the magnificent beasts possession, the seven year old stallion was in the prime of his life and well grained. It was his own
sudden desire not to race back into anything that caused him to stop wherever the horse took an interest in the
hidden pockets of winter dried grass and clear water. He was at a kind of crossroads in his own mind, so taking the first
two or three days of the festival which coincided with keeping the Sabbath, which seemed a tactful thing to
do given the circumstances of his recent healing, he joined a large caravan headed south with their animals loaded with trade
goods who saw it a good thing to shelter even a lone Roman solider of such conspicuous rank to deter any would be thieves
who wished to make use of the face that nine of their seventeen armed guards were down with a bloody flux. A Tribune, who
wore dyed red horsehair plumed like the roached mane of a stallion, joined the Army by virtue of his high birth, a rich man’s
son, who went into the battle as an exception, whereas a Centurion, who wore his plumed helmet over the crown of his head,
was a man who’d earned his way up the ranks and stepped into the rarer positions of rank, as available, by reason of
his wits, his skill and his courage in leading men. Since his eldest daughter was fertile as the ass she rode on, he envisioned
a healthy male heir if only the gods would comply! The scars on this one’s legs and
arms weren’t mere claw marks from the pleasure of Roman wenches, as loose as he had heard their morals were. Only his
feet seemed odd, lacking the calluses one would expect of a man of his age, but of what difference did that make to him? It
wasn’t his toenails he wished to see reproduced and grow!
It was Wednesday before Machba`nel
could tear himself away from the perfumed arms of the lovely daughter of the caravan master, hoping that nothing remained
too visibly of the way in which she tested his mettle as surely as the mare Apulio returned to Jerusalem on had tested his
well rested stallion! He was sure the beautiful and pert daughter to whom he’d pledged his life as a means to be near
her aging sire, would neither understand not approve, but he had enjoyed himself fully and only winced when Titan’s
back humped in a good natured show of bucking in the chill, freshening air of approaching spring before they both settled
down for the long hard ride to Job’s massive estate on the outskirts of the little town only a half day’s journey
from the Master’s home in Nazareth. Perhaps he would find Jesus there. He would take the time to rest Titan and then
go see. Unless His family arrived early for the wedding they’d been talking about when the illness seized him…was
it one lifetime ago, or two?
On the outskirts of
Job’s massive holdings, one of the peasant boys tried to stone them, pretending that he was frightened of a ghost. Machba`nel
restrained himself with difficult, using the flat of his sword to slap and punish the boy. Any area of close human habitation
as this would have a network of voices and eyes that watch through lowered lashes, and sure enough, before he’d reached
the boundary of the field where the youth had been ostracized, digging out stones from a fallow field during it’s Sabbath
year of respite, two men and a man in soiled clothes were running to his defense. Hiding behind trees as he
rode past and waiting until his back was turned before raising their fists and undoubtedly whispering curses in Ancient Hebrew
for their greatest effect. He’d spent an entire
summer once attempting to form and animate a man from the river bank mud who could punish his older half-brothers and their
friends, but though he said the words correctly from the forbidden scroll of Cabal, no creature made by how
own hands rose up to defend him. He did grow an extra
three inches that winter, so he felt vindicated in his failed attempt. The result had been the same. They became a little
frightened of him and stopped hurting him with their ‘boyish pranks’. Lady Tyra punished him for lying to her, not for stealing the ancient text, and at least a part of him was grateful
she’d never know he used his warhorse against
an insolent but stick thin youth. This was hardly
a worthy use of the Life returned to him!
“ Machba`nel! “ Three voices exclaimed
in horror, as one voice, and the too thin woman fainted to the edge of her aged father’s couch.The dwarf man Sihon ben Job rushed toward him in unfeigned delight, allowing the tall,
scarred man to swing him up on the stallion’s back, facing him. Titan pranced nervously but with his master standing
there, he endured the humiliation of the short man’s kicking feet.
“ We thought you dead, Isaac! “ Sihon’s
father Job whispered harshly, like the croaking of
a black bird, but he began to weep in happiness as the tall man’s arms closed around him in loving embrace. “
The One who is above all and Jealously guards His son Israel, chose to return me to your
arms, and the warmth of the love of your children, though I know not why and I don’t pretend to think I am worthy of such an incalculable gift, Father Job! “
“ Who among us would dare to question anything of the Almighty, Blessed be His Name. “
The old man sobbed, pressing his dry lips against the taste of sweat and dust on the middle aged man’s forehead. Sihon had been born in answer to his mother’s
dreams, a mind the rabbi’s envied, a voice an angel would feel blessed to share, but this man would have been the emblem
of his dreams for a son, and luckily Sihon’s heart, though small because of his stunted size, was larger than the known
universe, and he loved him as the brother they feared to attempt after Keren-happuch’s birth. “It’s enough
that He chose to return you to our arms, my son! “
Job had to lie down as the pain against his upper chest drew his breath away, he wrung his hands over his swollen belly
and gave witness to the depth of his prayers of gratitude, and then he fell to sleep of exhaustion and age. Sihon steadied himself on the horse’s back using the edge of his
younger sister’s shoulder as Keren-happuch slowly pulled back from her embrace with the tall, weeping man. He was shocked
at how much thinner she was then even her affinity for Greek dress was able to display. But he held his silence with difficulty.
If he tried to talk with the Roman she’d simply talk over him and treat him with less civility than she would a slave
in the house. He would wait until they were alone, man-to-man.
Her lip trembled as he rebuked her gently, her great dark eyes filling with tears like a wounded fawn, and he instinctively
pulled her back into his arms though she complained about the stiffness of his body armor and the smell trapped in soiled
leather, and he laughed and allowed it, for she was a woman. Allowing her to flee to her rooms with her virgins that she might
be able to absorb such a shocking event as this. He welcomed this time alone in one of the few places in the world he felt
absolutely safe, so that he might be able to rest and examine the odd phenomenon too. That night at dinner in the main house, Job himself joined them on the center couch,
his hair freshly washed and anointed, his bone thin body oiled with costly perfumes, and his eyes alight with more vigor than
either of his children had seen in almost a year. He allowed the talk of the coming wedding to flow past him, his thin beard
trembling when any of the Trio looked in his direction. During the music and dancing he slept quietly, his head pillowed against
his bent arm, though Bernice danced with all the joy contained in her matron’s form. It was a love match so long postponed
she’d begun to fear it would never happen, arriving with the announcement of the spring’s New Moon at last, for
in the course of life a woman’s flow stopped without real warning, and then she’d be left without children, not
Joshua’s nor any!
After dinner, Keren-happuch called the slender matron into the house with her so they could giggle and talk away the
remainder of the night sky, but he choose to remain in sight of the stars as he groomed and stroked the placid golden stallion.
It pleased him to see Job’s firstborn walk up the steps of the mounting block so they could talk eye to eye while the
dwarf sat just beyond the stallion’s reach. Once he and Keren-happuch were married, Sihon would remain
in control of the vast farms and fields procured by Job’s diligence with his father’s inheritance, and they got
along so well they’d already divided the work load between them, choosing lots for those portions neither one of them
wanted freely. It was an odd sense of release for Machba`nel as he talked with the shorter, practical minded man,
for though he honored his beliefs, Sihon lacked the mysticism Lady Tyra had imbued in the Sacred Texts during her years of
tutorage, so the knowledge and the wise advice that acknowledged men could be beasts, for all of their heavenly origins often
helped him to find a middle ground in his own mind without having to surrender one or the other.
“ Sissy will think it a betrayal, but you need to return to Judea to speak to your family
and allow them the joy of proving your wellness to them, as you allowed us. I fear Shemi’s rage when she finds out you
came here first, Ba’nel. “ The shorter man admitted unwillingly. Shelomith bat Elnaam was a
formidable woman, not in the least loathe to use her size and full might against man or any lesser beast!
Machba`nel smiled shyly and paused in the rote passage of the bustles over the mare’s glossy winter coat
“ My mother thinks of you as I do, as family. With Rueben’s distaste for female flesh
I am her sole possibility for heirs to spoil and fondle and wrap with all her failed dreams for Sissy and I. “
“ You should have been a poet, Ba’nel. “
“ No thank you! I prefer the crunch of bone to the crushing of a spirit! “
Sihon looked up so sharply, the mare’s ears flattened against her poll and she began to prance nervously between
the woven leads.
“ If I have offended you, my friend, I apologize. “ He
said softly.
“ You’ll have a long ways to go past that to offend me, Little Man! “
“ I was talking to the horse. “ Job’s short-statured son replied, with a slight smile playing
on his lips.
-
Because he knew
how close to the end of his days he was, Job ben Shelmiah made it clear to his family and the people who helped to run the
complex farm and flocks given him by the Almighty for his loving care to keep all of His laws as he was able,
that even the youngest of the shepherd was to be allowed to return for a two day celebration in which the work of life would
be suspended as though this were a holiday festival.
“
I wish to honor my son’s new wife, Peinnah, the marriage of my daughter to the man I thought lost to us forever, and
the union of my dear servants who have waited so long for this day. Put out food for the animals and put on your Sabbath best,
we shall make this a New Moon festival we will all remember to the end of our days!
“
He smiled and reached for his younger son’s hand, but Uzziah, burning with resentment that he hadn’t been
named along with the old Patriarch’s legitimate heirs, managed to be too busy until Machba`nel stepped over to support
the old man as Job struggled to his feet. Managing to make himself look wounded that the middle aged warrior has ‘pushed
his way in’, though his sullen performance persuaded no one but himself; and again Job repented inwardly that the child
was so different from the shy mother who’d conceived Uzziah outside of marriage for of her love for him, then died in
giving him birth, like David’s unnamed son with Bathsheba.
When Machba`nel attempted
to speak with the tall, well-featured youth about seeing him on the banks of the Jordan, hoping to established a new connection
between them in having shared so extraordinary an event, Uzziah stubbornly pretended not to understand what he was talking
about, so Machba`nel turned away. Sihon, though crippled in body, was the better man and the better friend. He tried to pretend
an interest in Keren-happuch’s new delight in preparation for the coming festival, which was usually held at night to
prevent any work from being shirked, tradition saying that it was held under the stars to remind them that El Elyon,
Blessed be His Name, had lead Abraham away from his tents and daily cares to show him the stars overhead and tell him that
despite his beloved wife Sari being barren, his descents would outnumber the massive number of lights alive in the cohabit
night sky. Job seemed to sense how long it would take for his children to stop grieving his absence and begin to shoulder
the responsibilities he had lovingly shielded them from all their lives, for it was likely the marriage of the tenant farmer
Joshua, to his overly-patient bride Bernice might not take place unless his hands loosened the purse strings for such a lavish,
day long affair before the traditional marriage supper. Machba`nel wasn’t even sure why Keren-happuch or Sihon’s
new little bride put so much energy into the coming wedding of a hired hand, except to celebrate that no man was
safe from their plans, but the elderly patriarch himself seemed to put great store by the common, young man Joshua.
He was a distant cousin to John the Baptizer who had the entire country in such an uproar, expecting Messiah to reveal
himself from any number of men now alive inside the borders of Israel. Promising to return for the wedding
dinner on the first Thursday of the new moon of next month, Machba`nel found himself eager to return to Jerusalem once he
reclaimed Titan from the rural garrison who were casting lots to see who would possess the horse no had been able to ride
as yet. The Commandant was grateful to see him arrive and leave with only two broken angles and a sore hip to show for their
foolhardy attempts at tricking a war trained stallion! He rested himself and the golden stallion at one
of the inns partway between the rolling mountains between Jericho and David’s walled citadel.
If Xavier proved as emotional in reclaiming him from the dead, he wanted it to be in a neutral place where they could speak freely without being weighed and judged by the Procurator’s
spies. He groomed and cooled the heated horse by his own hand rather than risk the slovenly greed of one of the cringing men
who worked for the Inn. He enquired to the lively daughter of the innkeeper but was told she was intent upon the child she
would soon bear, and a part of him wished it was his own, for her Keren was far too sickly and thin to risk being put to that
strain. He’d already lost one young wife to his driven need for a son, he wasn’t going to risk another. He angrily
shrugged off the feeling that a mighty Eye might be watching
his use of returned life. He didn’t ask for it, he
hadn’t been instructed on how to use it, so what he did was a matter of his own conscience, he argued with the vapors
rising up from the steaming horse. He was startled to look up and see a stranger saluting him, though he wore no sign of his insignia on this trip south.
" Ave. I am ome
seeking Macha`nel, son of the Centurion Abishalom ben Judah. Clearly I was being mocked, for I was told to seek a dying man!
"
“ Ave in the name
of Ceasar Augustus, the heir of Julius Caesar. “ He answered cautiously, estimating
the openings the young soldier left in his defensive stance, should it become necessary to defend himself against attack.
“ To whom do I have the privilege of speaking, Tribune? “
The
young nobleman blushed; he’d exchanged his distinctive helmet for one of a lesser rank since he was traveling part way down the mountain without an escort.
“
My name is of no importance. I speak in the name of Pontus Pilate, who wishes you well in your speedy recovery. Do
I speak to the man or the ghost? “
“
Which one would you prefer? “
“
My name is Gainus Flavious, the third son of the second wife of the Lord Vitreous of The Lesser Nile. I count things,
very quickly, and I spy out when quarter-masters are hedging their accounts. I am considered a very necessary person without
being considered a person, therefore I was sent on a fool’s errand, because clearly you are well and hale, and I have been duped! “
Machba`nel broke one of his own firm rules and reached out to steady the young nobleman’s son as he crumbled,
thinking himself mocked by his superiors at the garrison. He’d been so eager as he saddle his horse, so sure of himself
and his babbled promises, and now he would return to the coarse and brutal laughter toward a rich man’s son. “ Let us care for your horse. A
soldier is only as sound as his mount. While I tell you a tale so incredible that you will have as much difficulty believing
it as I do, and I am the living proof of all I say! “
“ Am I being mocked further? “ Gainus exclaimed
in shattered pride.
“ Not by me. “
There was something in the man’s voice that reassured him and he turned to his own mount, wishing he had
earned a horse as fine as the stallion resting quietly under the older man’s hand.
“
I have been summons to Rome by the Procurator, my heart. “
Keren-happuch slapped his hand and turned her shoulder away from him.
“ What have I done now to offend you? And how may I make amends? “
“ You could take me to your mother’s house in Jerusalem! I don’t
want to live here, not with her gloating at me! And don’t tell me you don’t know what I mean! She may half my
size but Peinnah bat Adriel is every bit as much a woman as I am! “
Machba`nel
changed his tactic, smiling as if her little pout meant nothing to him. To remind him that the short statured woman from the
Decapolis was already married to her older brother would hardly soothe her when she had her heart set on shoving her role
in his mother’s face. An unwise thing, like mixing hot stones and water, seam would inevitably rise, and he
would be the one to be scalded!
“ To say she is every bit as much a woman as you, my sweet, elevates her, as dear a
little thing as she is. “
Keren-Happuch whirled and flung her arms around his neck, her eyes suddenly filled with tears.
“ We are married in the eyes of others, too. Yet you refuse to touch me! You
know I must show blood on the cloth at the door of the chuppah, but who can tell a bleeding’ roosters’
smear from that of first blood? “
“ Alright, if you insist! “ He pretended resignation to her whims, the easiest way to calm her and allow her mind to flirt to some other theme. Her eyes grew so wide he could see the white around her eyeballs and it took all of his will power not to laugh in her face. She would never forgive me!
“ Now? In the middle of the day? With no preparation? “.
Suddenly she stopped being amusing, as he realized there was no way other than divorce to end this little charade
that was wearing on his nerves in a way that hadn’t with her father as buffer between them.
“ Then when I get back from Jerusalem. “ He
warned in a cold tone, standing abruptly. “ Prepare yourself in advance of my return.
“
Her tears didn’t soften him, and she saw it too, watching him with new questioning as he strode away, her original
reason for being annoyed forgotten in the sudden fear that he meant what he had just said!
-
*
-
NON IDES – E First
hour of the night
778 AUC
The Walls of Jerusalem
-
Arriving on the cusp of dusk as he did when the process of closing and locking the gates had already begun, only the
fact that his horse was clearly spent and foamed with exertion caused the angry gatekeepers to allow him admittance. In the
Fortress, Apulio greeted him warmly and promised to freed and groom the exhausted stallion himself, the small private bath at the rear of the officer’s baths were empty
the last time he sent a servant to check and there was an open kettle of water for him to bath first. The ride had been as
difficult on him as on his horse, knowing that any summands by name from the Procurator of Palestine could auger no good for
the name of the man that rose to those speckled lips!
“ The spitz bath will have to do, and the physicians will have to do without my healthy
sweat for their potents, send no slave to scrape me, I haven’t time. When Pilate calls, he expects more than the birds
of Jerusalem to answer him! “
But despite his gruff reply, he stood in the puddle of mud longer than he needed, simply because it felt so wonderful
to have toes again and to be able to manipulate them in the squishy feel of the wet clay. By the time Apulio was free to help
him wash his feet and dress properly, he was a bundle of nerves at having to face the Procurator who surely had spies enough
to know that he hadn’t dallied at his mother’s residence before coming here, although Shelomith would be enraged
at his choice, but that he had gone to Cana first instead of returning here as soon as he was healed…or that he had
pledged his allegiance to a power destined to topple Rome from her empyreal place at the head of the universe! As he waited in the chilly antechamber, awaiting the arrival of the Pontius Pilate,
the formal authority figure for Rome this far south from the Governor’s estates in Syria, his new self dissolved in
the layers of sweat wherever flesh touched flesh. What would the arrogant Procurator do? What if they wanted
him to repeat such a trick on others? An army that could miraculously heal its wounded and return them to war would be invincible,
but if, on the other hand, he heard such an outlandish story he would refuse to believe such a thing could
happen, that either the person was a liar or a whimperer, shirking duty; either way it would strike a blow at his pride and
vanity to be treated with either, but he was a soldier. ‘What else was he to do with his life now that he was healed
and capable of service? The Nazarene was a soft-spoken advocate of peace and love between men, even enemies. What need had
he of a soldier whose healing he doubtless only heard about after he returned?’ He questioned
himself repeatedly, without finding an answer.
His worst suspicions became his reality as the
square jawed Procurator raced in, his mantle to his
toga thrown careless over his arm, as if on his way to the forum in Rome, forbidden to them both now by politics he hardly
understood and cared about less with each passing hour of healing.
“ Speak to me, sir! If you are an imposter I’ll know it in a second and run you
through with my own blade! “
The voice was so arrogant, so sure, Machba`nel instinctively fell to one knee, head bowed, his chest smarting with the force of the blow he gave in natural response to his enraged
superior.
“ It’s he, Pontius. I thought better of the son of Xavier than to dally from duty feigning
death! “ The Legate said in a bored voice that scarcely hid his exaltation at having victory over
his long time enemy, but Pontius Pilate silenced the wary general with a look.
“ If I simply wanted your opinion, I’d simply have summons you, not Marcus. Leave
us! Tertius Nectovelius! Publius “
“ Here, Excellency! “
“
Examine him for weapons and bring him to my chamber! “
“ Yes, Excellency!
“ The slightly out of breath Tribune agreed, trying not to stare at the sound pink feet
now encased in metal shod sandals so near his untrimmed toes
as the older man of lesser rank rose himself to his feet with an effort. .
“ I trust you can walk that far, Centurion? “ Pilate
demanded archly, pleased to see the stranger’s mouth quirked in the odd way only Xavier’s son dared to permit.
All else might be faked, but that smile was real, and it sent a wave of superstitious awe, followed by the thought of practical
application if such forces of raw nature could be harnessed by mere men, or Caesars; which were one in the same to him, though
he’d have torn his own tongue out by the roots before he admitted it, even in the privacy of his bedchamber! .
“
Keep your hands where I can see them! “ The rich man’s son warned
warily.
“
You took the very words out of my mouth, Tribune. “ The stranger so tautly
that he instinctively waited for his armed escort to catch up with him at the doorway to the windowless room before he stepped
too near the impassive, scarred warrior.
The
questioning was as intense as the scrutiny given his freshly bathed toes and ankles, for which he was grateful to Apulio for scrubbing them with a pumice stone. But for every question he could find an answer, the perplexed Procurator offered two more
that were beyond his ability to answer. The only thing for certain was the fact of the healed flesh, though
how remained as much a mystery as when the Centurion walked in!
“ No one has seen him for weeks, not since he left you and those others from his father’s
house at the bank of the river. Few men could survive so long in the wilderness without food or tools, water or shelter. Perhaps
we worry for naught. Perhaps even now he resides in the belly of some great beast! You’re quiet, Marcus? Do you disagree
with me? You’ve seen him, been near him, talked to him. He cared enough about you to heal you, did he say nothing of
his future plans? Marcus? “
“ What you’ve said has weighed my mind into silence, Excellency. “
Pilate pretended an effective smile by the deliberate curvature of his lips.
“ I feared for a moment that you would quote me one of your own proverbs, ‘Even
a fool may look wise, when he keeps his mouth shut.’ ! “
“ It would have to be a GREAT beast. “ Machba`nel replied to his inner conversation, missing the
hard questioning look from his supervisor. In the end, it proved as fruitless as he feared so having assured himself it was
real flesh and not come cleaver unimaginable trick, Pilate0 sent the stout, silent brute to the house in Upper Jerusalem where
his spies would inform him of more information than he could wrench from the brute by guile or pretended enthusiasm. Having
stepped hard on one of the toes and seeing it bruise put his mind at ease about flesh colored but it did little to relieve
his innate fear of stern faced men accustomed to blood and battle, or the continuing slide into humanity he feared he was
enduring in the once worshipful eyes of the famous Gaul-slayer.
-
*
-
His mother’s face was so pale as he approached in the booth constructed in the inner sanctuary
of the garden that the moon’s pale light made it appear as if she were made of immobile, glistening marble. Only then
did he realize that Xavier had abstained from telling her until he could verify it for himself. He cursed himself for being
seven times an idiot in simply racing in here, as from the dead. But the ache on his foot held him back almost as much as
his fear of sharp silences as she watched him enter, mouth agape. As he pulled his mother to her feet in
joy, Shelomith pulled back in his arms, having to lean against him for far greater support than he could ever remembering
her needing from him. Then she gave a small cry of recognition, seeing the raised scar on his neck from
where his eldest half brother had once impaled him on an iron spike meant to hold the new vine runners off of the moist soil,
and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing softly. A proper lady even in extremis. She mumbled what appeared
to be a spontaneous prayer that he shared silently, having steeled himself to never seeing or holding her again.
“ Today is Friday the 13th! “
She gasped, her eyes growing wider with shock and alarm.
Rather than rebuke her for having missed a day entire, Machba`nel put on his best smile. “
In whose culture, Ima? “ He asked in what he hoped would pass for a lighthearted
and jocular manner, and her eyes narrowed again in an all too familiar look of mistrust and willingness to suspicion his words
simply because of his gender.
“ Mine. “ She answered, in deliberate insult, then winced as
though she’d taken the blow herself at the look of pain he didn’t have time to hide. “ How
terribly cruel it was of you to make us think you were dying! “ She
charged, striking his chest painfully, but made no effort to break free of his strong embrace. It was as though she refused
to believe the testimony of her eyes any more than she did her other startled senses.
Before she could ask any further questions there was a charge by six of the older household servants. The ones
she trusted most were still at her lakeside estate in Capernaum but these old fools had known that the young master was leaving
for his final battle, with Death and Sheol, and they were as shocked as she to see him return, having already
endured the six days of Shiva in mourning for his loss. By the time the eldest woman could be dragged from his new feet, showering
them with kisses and the warm wetness of her tears, the other servants had composed themselves, and realizing this was not
his ghost faithfully returned to comfort his mother’s grief they belatedly brought warmed and fragrant water to wash
his feet, and fresh clothing, while others scurried about in the kitchen to fix a meal beyond the scant demands of their fastidious
elderly mistress. Amos knelt on a fold of sheepskin, having to keep his face downward to keep
from showing the shame of his tears at the shocking return of the young man he’d come to love in his won children’s
place. He had be earmarked for slaughter in the arena whenthen pompous and bold tongued Machba`nel the Wager
had taken pity on his pain, trying to purchase his three sons and daughter, but it had come too late. He had stayed with him
through the dark days when he wanted to end his own life to be with them, had taught him of his God Yahweh Elohim who would
hold such young souls innocent and allow them to sleep peacefully until he came there, at that far distant place he didn’t
fully understand, to wake them and taken them back into his arms, nevermore to be parted. The pain of circumcision,
to show his acceptance of this strange, single god faith, had been far more painful than many of the lance thrusts he received
in battle, but it was the promise in his own flesh of their reunion and his fierce devotion to this man’s god. He simply
had not expected proof of what they had taught him, as one raising from the dead! Truly their God was all that they claimed
Him to be!
“ Touch me not, Master. I am unworthy. “ He
begged, drying his hands on the clean woven cloth his adopted daughter Sarah gave to him, but he felt the younger man’s
lips touch his damp cheek in respect and his dignity was slowly returned enough to risk looking up.
“ Something has changed, Young Master. “
“ Nonsense! Nothing has changed “ Shelomith replied angrily,
wishing them to leave and stop taking up this time with her son. Xavier might stride through those doors at any minute and
claim him away from her, for all that he was supposed to be in Capernaum. At least, that’s where she’d sent that
coarse brute when he came here stinking of garlic and leeks, and sweat!
“ As you say, Mistress. “ Amos agreed equitably
as he stared into the taller man’s eyes.
She looked up in annoyance. It was dangerous close to familiarity, and that was one thing she did not permit of her
servants no matter how kindly they were treated here! There was no need for another revolt like the one lead
by Sparticus.
“ This king priest you speak of? “ She suggested
as they walked close to one another, she unthinkingly testing how safe the apparently healing might be. “
He gave sight to your sister, she who was born blind. The word came after you left, when you…” She
paused, looking at a winter bared fig branch, which had patiently borne its small kernel of life since the onset of the first
false hint of spring. “ Nothing would keep Tyra here when she heard the stories
about a prophet from the Most High, Blessed be His Name, “ She added perfunctorily, reaching over
to test the ripeness of a melon slice with her fingernail. “ And you know how tied that silly girl
is to her! “
Contempt dripped from her mouth like sugared venom. “ So she went
with her, being great with child, and the only grandchild I am ever to have of my own blood, but she thinks nothing of riding
down a bandit infested mountain and over hills where even a cloven hoof might stumble and fall! “
“ She’s blind, not the oxen. “ He said mildly,
as accustomed to his mother’s over fastidious ways as he was to being first in her thoughts and in her heart for having
been born the male heir Ezra required of her, or her vineyards and monies would have been his, to dispose of at will, as easily
as he could her.
“
You aren’t listening. You aren’t the only one who’s benefited from this miracle maker, this king
of the cabinetmakers. She’s no longer blind, he somehow gave her the means of sight,
and now she makes everyone’s life miserable, not the least of which is that repulsive little man Xavier made me allow
to marry her. Although the discomfort it causes that fat one who’s stuck to his side like a pimple, almost makes it
worth it! “
Realizing her son’s discomfort and shock as much at her malicious glee as in what she was trying to make him
believe, she quickly changed the subject, as if she hadn’t spoken of his spoiled, younger sister at all. Why bring up
the Black woman scholar who stood between them, more of a mother to her last two children than she had the time to be when
they were small and uninteresting, smelling of goats and dirt like the man whose touch she was forced to endure for her son’s
heritage’s sake. “ Tomorrow is a fast day. “ She
said at last, as if she’d forgotten her original intention, which he strongly doubted for all that her nickname meant
‘small’ or ‘secondary’ in nature. There was nothing less than the toughness of spirit that kept Zipporah
faithful to Moses when he turned to his God instead of to her, after her sacrifice of their son’s foreskins to save
all their lives from His stern wrath.
.
“ That’s Roman! I didn’t know you kept track of such things, Ima!
“ He didn’t have time to hide his shock.
”
I’m married to a Roman, for all that he remembers the Half-Torah better than your father Ezra
ever did. “ She gave a small, wistful laugh. It was so seldom she had anything good of the mere vintner
she married in the vain hopes of keeping her child-hood home. “
Besides, the goddess of childbirth is one that a mother of five might be forgiven for knowing about, eh son? “
She was determined to recapture him, showing him a side usually only other people her own age and class witnessed, but she
hungered to be near him and to scold or be shrill was a sure way to chase him from her again! “ I have a son who is the friend of a king. “
Shemi said breathlessly as they completed the circuit of the late afternoon shades of garden shadows. She tried to
make it sound as if she were dismissing him but was unable to keep the pride and affection
from her voice. And the result of it was the very opposite of what she intended. But when
she risked looking into her fourth son’s eyes there was no mockery there, as Xavier’s, only the tender acceptance
of her strong willed foibles and demands about keeping a kosher house in the midst of so many Gentile friends,
and it took her sternest act of will not to dissolve into tears for a second time.
“ Have I no propriety left? No dignity, with which to shield myself against
my love for you? “ She wailed, having to clasp him to her bosom with surprising
force. Her cry of despair frightened him a little, with its hint of vulnerability that
makes one old and infirm like Job ben Shelmiah. Words that he couldn’t risk associating with the implacable and stately
woman leaned hard against his bosom.
“ As much as you need, Ima. “
Meaning
it to comfort her but it had the opposite effect, causing her to stiffen and pull back in resistance.
“
I will speak to Claudia Procula in the morning, how rude of him to bruise flesh so newly healed! “
“ I wish you wouldn’t. Ima. “
“ Because he’s only a ruler appointed to Israel by man and not by Him? “
She mocked and his silence made them both uncomfortable.
“
You’re becoming more Roman than you think, Mater. “
“ Call me E’ma, it’s softer. “
“
You aren’t. “
“ Now you’re using your father’s tone of voice with me! “
He
knelt in humble apology. If he thought to attempt to distance himself from her control he was only fooling himself and angering
her in the process. The ties wound too deep, for he was her last hope, with his sister married to a effeminate man for all
that she was near to term with a child.
“ He is a king, Ima. Not only because the ancient texts Tyra taught to us
as children at your command, “ He added quickly as she opened her mouth to object. “ But because of what he is. Though raised in humble circumstances as a carpenter’s
son in Nazareth, men of all ages serve Him, willingly as I do, Ima. “
The pleading to be believed in his voice only annoyed her, for it held her too close to the years when he was pleading
to have a kitten against his father’s or a pet rooster’s life to be spared that Ezra had marked for slaughter
to ‘toughen him up’. Tightening her lips, she refused to be held silent by his idealistic
nonsense any longer.
-
-
End Chapter 6
