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Authors: Jerry B. Jenkins

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BOOK: I, Saul
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He opened the door to her knock and she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.

“My love,” he said.

Still entangled, Sofia said, “Let me introduce you to Dimos Fokinos, who works with my father. His English is pretty good.”

Fokinos, who had remained just out of sight, appeared. The men traded pleasantries, Augie telling him his reputation had preceded him. Sofia's comment about his English proved an understatement. Though his speech was heavily accented, he clearly knew the language. He said, “Mr. Trikoupis tends to exaggerate.”

But he hadn't. Dimos was everything the man had said: tall, slim, with longish, black, curly hair. He was dressed almost as stylishly as Sofia. Genteel, however, he was not. As he shook Augie's hand he slipped past him and into the suite. “Come on in,” Augie said, the sarcasm plainly eluding Fokinos.

The Greek draped his jacket over the back of the couch, then sat. “We need to get down to business. Your man is all over the news and it won't be long before he is in custody.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Augie said.

“You need to be very careful if you don't want the same fate. Where is he, anyway?”

“You didn't see him in the lobby?” Augie said.

“Had I seen him, I would know where he is, wouldn't I?”

“His disguise is working, that's all.”

“I saw no one in the lobby,” Sofia said. “It was empty except for staff.”

“We don't have time for this,” Dimos said. “Your friend needs to stay out of sight, and we need to find the parchments.”

“We?” Augie said. “You're a guest here, sir. And our priority is not the parchments. It's our friend's life.”

“Which is as good as over, so don't play games, Dr. Knox. You're talking about an artifact which, if I can verify its authenticity, is priceless.”


You're
going to authenticate it?”

“That's why Mr. Trikoupis sent me.”

“Do you read Ancient Greek, Mr. Fokinos?”

“I thought that was your job. Mine is to evaluate the parchment itself. When can I see it?”

“All in good time. Right now I need to find Roger.”

Fokinos huffed and began pacing.

Augie texted, “where r u? they're here.”

Dimos pulled on his jacket. “Are we going to sit around here all day?”

“Where do you propose we go?” Augie said. “I'm not leaving until I reconnect with Roger.”

“Make it fast. If you really care so much about his eternal soul you wouldn't let him out of your sight.”

Augie shot Sofia a glance. She looked ashen. Was it guilt over revealing to Dimos her private conversation with Augie? Or had her phone been compromised?

28
Trouble

FIRST-CENTURY ROME

Though summer was almost over, the great capital city was as hot as it had been during the great fire. The sheer number of dehydrated government workers kept Luke from tending to the general populace, including many mothers and children. Well after the sun finally, mercifully, set, Luke had not had time to pick up his lamp and find something for Paul to eat. He prayed Panthera had been able to visit Paul and provide a little food and light.

But when Luke got to the prison, a young sandy-haired guard from inside patrolled the gate.

“Primus on break?” Luke said.

“No, Doctor. He's being disciplined, and—.”

“What for?”

“—if the gods favor me, he'll be discharged and I will get his post.”

What did he do?”

“Showed favoritism to a prisoner, and you know about whom I speak.”

“So he checked in on Paul. What was the harm in that?”

“Did you know he had been feeding the prisoner too?”

“A scrap now and then. What of it?”

“Worse, he was caught providing light. He may lose his position, sir. For now he has been suspended for a week without pay.”

“That's horrible.”

“It's policy, sir.”

“Then Paul has not eaten today—beyond the gruel, I mean?”

“Probably not.”

Luke hurried inside, surprised that even the guards manning the hole stood in virtual darkness. He could barely make out their forms in the dim light.

“Even
your
torches have been doused?” Luke said.

“Orders, Doctor,” one said. “They were sending light through the hole, and the prisoner's sentence calls for complete darkness.”

“But for months he has had that little bit of light.”

“And none of us cared much, except Gaius.”

“Gaius?”

“You passed him at the gate. He grew tired of Primus enjoying the privileges of position while violating protocol and reported him. Our superiors have reminded us—strongly—to enforce the sentence as written.”

“Why don't you just cover the hole? Why should you have to stand here in darkness?”

“A cover will be in place by tomorrow.”

“Must I visit my patient in darkness also?”

“I'm afraid so, sir.”

“A travesty.” Luke stepped closer. “Does this mean I cannot bring a little extra food for him either?”

“You will find us looking the other way, if you are discreet. We have become fond of him. We know nothing of his guilt or innocence, but not one of us doubts his sincerity.”

“But I have no food this evening.”

“I would give you some of mine,” the guard said. “But we've just had our break and nothing is left.”

“I worry about Paul living through the night.”

“The outside guards do not break for another hour. Perhaps one would slip you something.”

Luke knelt over the hole and poked his head through. “Paul!”

“Luke!” came the raspy reply. “The darkness torments me! And I'm hungry! Come quickly.”

“Hold on, friend! I'll be down soon.”

Luke rushed out to the new gate guard. “May I call you Gaius?”

“That's my name.”

“I need a bit of food for my friend. Some bread, cheese, anything.”

“I told you, he's not allowed—.”

“Do you have a price?”

Gaius hesitated. “You wish to put me in the same predicament as Primus? What kind of a hypocrite would I be?”

“Who would report you?”

“None would dare!”

“Then a bit of food?”

Gaius looked around, then spoke softly. “If, as you say, the price was adequate. You must not let the other guards know where you got it.”

“I am prepared to do my part for the life of my friend.”

“You could not afford me.”

“Try me, Gaius. Surely you could use an extra coin or two.”

“It depends on what those coins were made of.”

“I need food only for tonight. I can bring my own from now on.”

“Selling you food is one thing. Ignoring you giving your own to the prisoner is another.”

“I've never had to pay for that.”

“You can't tell me Primus was never accommodated.”

“Please. Your price.”

Gaius whispered an exorbitant amount, “which would pay for my ignorance for a month.”

Luke countered with half the price, “to cover this until his execution” Gaius surreptitiously shook Luke's hand. “I have another proposition,” Luke said. “I'll pay the full amount you asked for if you will not testify against Primus.”

“But I brought the charge! I will be the primary witness.”

Luke shrugged. “If you don't want the money ….”

“I do! But how will that look?”

“Just say that you feel the suspension was adequate for the offense and that you are confident that such a good superior as Primus will not repeat it.”

“But then I will not be promoted to this post!”

“Would it pay that much more than I'm offering?”

“No. But it comes with privilege and honor.”

Luke wanted to ask what kind of honor was due a man so easily bought. “The decision is yours.”

“And you'll pay me immediately?”

“Tomorrow.”
Unlike you, my word is my bond.
“But tonight, what do you have for my friend?”

“No bread, but cheese.”

“I need more.”

“A handful of olives.”

“Any fruit?”

“A few grapes.”

“And how will I get these?”

“I shall bring them to you after my break. I'll invent a reason to check on you and the prisoner.”

Luke's inclination was to thank Gaius, but he couldn't muster the words.

Inside he found Paul lying on the floor, the chain on his manacled ankle stretched to its length. “I'm just trying to get close to any hint of light, Luke. I can endure much, but not constant darkness. I don't know how long I can carry on.”

Luke promised to try to find a way to continue bringing his lamp. If they indeed covered the hole, perhaps he could then light it without the guards seeing. “And tonight I must wait to feed you until after the guards take their breaks.”

“The one they call Gaius is not our friend, Luke.”

“Have no fear. I have bought his favor.”

Luke helped Paul to the stone bench. The older man said, “So, he will be guilty of the very thing he reported about Primus. Hypocrisy knows no bounds. I hate to see him prosper by my predicament.”

“We both know he will not prosper in the end,” Luke said.

“I will pray for him. Will you too, Luke?”

“It won't be easy.”

“Was it easy for Jesus to pray for those who led Him to His death? He asked His Father to forgive them!”

“May God grant me the same grace.”

An hour later Gaius slipped nimbly down into the dungeon. “Approach, Doctor,” he whispered. “And speak quietly.” Luke reached for him in the darkness and accepted the food.

“Do I also have to hold my tongue?” Paul said.

“You should say nothing at all.”

“Fearing what consequence? Can you mete out a punishment worse than execution?”

“I could flog you, limit you to the gruel. Utter darkness will become your closest friend.”

“I am able to endure all things for the sake of the gospel.”

“I know, I know. Does saying that give you some sort of peace, make you feel better about yourself?”

Paul spoke between bites. “I consider myself nothing compared to the matchless perfection of my Savior.”

“I've heard this all before.”

“Why may I not see your face?” Paul said.

“You have seen me. I've been down here before.”

“You're the sandy-haired one, the one who never had anything good to say about your superior.”

“Primus was not really my superior.”

“No? He only outranked you and gave you orders.”

“But where is he now? Even he had superiors. And they listened to me.”

“I like to see the face of a man I'm speaking with. I need to ask you something, and I can't do it in the dark.”

Gaius sighed and moved back under the hole in the ceiling. “Hand me down a torch!”

“We're not allowed, Gaius! We were told—.”

“Just do it! I will answer for it. I need to check conditions down here.”

Luke and Paul covered their eyes until they grew accustomed to the light. Luke was stunned as the flame, so much larger than his lamp, illuminated Paul.

The man had become a faded image of himself. His dark eyes seemed more piercing than ever, staring out from his bony, emaciated face. Luke wondered how long the manacle would be secure on such a skinny ankle.

The physician was overwhelmed with memories of a young, vibrant Paul, traveling the world to visit the churches. He had never been a big man, but he had been muscled and wiry.

“All right, here I am,” Gaius said. “What is it?”

“I do remember you,” Paul said. “A handsome young man in the prime of life, lost in your trespasses and your sins.”

“How dare you?”

BOOK: I, Saul
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