Soldier of Rome: Journey to Judea (The Artorian Chronicles) (27 page)

It was as they were finishing their conversation that the doors were opened once more. Artorius strode in, looking rather filthy and disheveled, still in full armor with his helmet tucked under his arm.

“By Juno,” Justus said, “Could you not have bathed and shaved first?”

“I would have bathed in Raphaneae, had we not been told to piss off as soon as we delivered the weapons,” Artorius
protested. He then spoke to Pilate, “We were forced to march straight back to Tripolis, without so much as being allowed inside the fortress. It would seem you have some enemies in the Fulminata Legion.”

“So I have,” Pilate acknowledged. “They did not appreciate my coming down hard on their rankers for lapses of discipline. But after all, that was why I was sent there in the first place. They are a good legion, mind you, though I think my patronage with Sejanus caused some ill feelings.”

“Yes, that was made very clear to me,” Artorius added. “Still, the weapons have been returned. Any word yet from that creature, Barabbas?”

“Not yet,” Pilate replied. “We’ve avoided outright torture for the moment, as
the information is usually unreliable if applied too soon. We did get him to confess to a number of other crimes, though.”

“Such as?”

“Horse thievery, as well as the rape of a rabbi’s daughter,” Pilate said with disgust. “He claimed they were lovers, though at the time the girl was only thirteen. She has vouched for his identity. It was two years ago and she has made plain that, her age aside, their relationship was not consensual.”

“Then the sooner we put him on a cross, the better,” Justus said. Having a daughter around the same age
and hearing this new revelation about Barabbas only sickened him further.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your chance to crucify him soon enough,” Pilate replied. “He will be coming with us to Jerusalem, along with whatever’s left of those zealots you captured. We’ll execute them as soon as we arrive, and perhaps save Barabbas as a special gift to the populace during Passover. No doubt seeing him hung from a cross will please the girl’s father.”

Chapter XX
V: Curse of the Damned

Jerusalem

March, 33 A.D.

***

Pilate loathed Jerusalem. During the Jewish Passover celebrations, the city’s population swelled to nearly a million souls, and as such, there were bound to be brawls and public incidents to quell. He left most of this to the Sanhedrin and their special police, augmented by his auxiliaries. Artorius and his legionaries were kept near the palace as his personal bodyguards, while also serving as a reaction force should things get out of hand in the city. As Rome’s representative, Pilate had the duty of addressing the populace and reminding them that, though given a certain amount of autonomy by grace of the emperor, they were still subjects of Rome. Passover afforded him the best opportunity to speak to the people.

There was also an obscure tradition of sorts where the Roman governor would release one condemned prisoner on the people’s recognizance. Personally, he felt the idea to be revolting. During his first year he had allowed one prisoner to be freed, in hopes of showing a bit of magnanimity to the people. The result had been that the man subsequently raped a merchant’s wife and stolen his horse.
After his recapture, Pilate had had the man crucified in the marketplace, as opposed to the rock of Golgotha. This caused an outrage amongst the people rather than prevailing to their sense of justice. Even the merchant, whose wife had been raped, cried out against the man’s punishment!

To add to his grief, the
emperor received word of the execution and strongly admonished Pilate for it, as under Roman law once a man had been given pardon for a capital crime, he could not subsequently receive the death penalty. Because of this, Pilate had immediately ceased the practice of releasing prisoners on Passover and all future executions were carried out at Golgotha. He was relaying this story to his staff when a pair of legionaries entered. Artorius raised his eyebrow when he saw they had his servant, Nathaniel, with them. The legionaries halted and saluted.

“Sir, this man claims to have knowledge of a possible Jewish rebellion within the city,” one of the men stated.

“Nathaniel, what the hell?” Artorius said. “I wondered where you’ve been!”

“Apologies, master,” Nathaniel replied, his head bowed.

“So he is your servant?” the other legionary asked.

“Yes, he’s my servant!” Artorius snapped.

“Sorry, sir, it’s just that one Jew looks the same as any other to us. We get a dozen of these ‘informants’ coming to us every week, Always trying to either fill their coffers with reward money or looking to eliminate some personal rival who was fucking their wives.”

“If this man has information, you would do well to listen to him,” Pilate asserted.
“He’s the one who discovered the arms smuggler, Barabbas, in the first place.” He waved the legionaries off, who saluted and started to leave.

“Fetch the other
centurions,” Artorius called out to the men.

“Yes
, sir.”

Artorius and Pilate then turned their eyes on Nathaniel, who raised his head and met their gaze.

“Forgive me, masters, I tried to come sooner, but I had to stay hidden for a time,” Nathaniel began. “I went to see one of the Nazarene’s disciples speak over near the slave market.”

“Dear gods don’t tell me your man is taken by this Nazarene as well!” Pilate interrupted with a glare towards Artorius.

“You said so yourself. We should respect the personal beliefs of all, even the Jews,” Artorius replied calmly. He nodded to Nathaniel, who continued.

“I was standing with my back next to an alleyway. Well
, I recognized one of his disciples, though I cannot remember the man’s name. He was met by a pair of rather surly looking characters in the alleyway. I noticed one of them was armed, and curiosity got the best of me. I followed them and hid next to a refuse pile when I heard the men speak.”

“Did you get a look at any of them?” Pilate asked.

Nathaniel shook his head. “No, master. But I did hear one of the men speak about ‘bar Abbas’ or maybe it was Barabbas. I’m not sure which.”

“Ah, yes, our friend Jesus Barabbas,” Justus stated as he and the other centurions walked into the hall. “The weapons smuggler and rapist who Artorius captured.”

“Jesus,” Artorius noted. “That’s the Nazarene’s name as well.”

“It’s common enough in these parts,” Pilate observed dismissively. “Asking how many Jews are named Jesus or Joseph is like going to Rome and asking how many are named Gaius or Titus.”

“Barabbas is an enigma to us,” Justus remarked. “Even his name is cryptic. ‘
Bar’ means ‘son of,’ so his name could be ‘Jesus son of Abbas.’ By the same token, ‘Abbas’ means ‘the father,’ sometimes in reference to their god.”

“I don’t give a vat of piss what his name means!” Pilate snapped with a scowl. “I know who Barabbas is
, I do sign the warrants, you know. He’s grown ambitious if he’s moved on from smuggling the occasional sword to plotting sedition and murder. I take it, then, that these men are his followers?”

“They are
, master,” Nathaniel asserted. “I heard one of them say, ‘it is time’. Many within the city are anxiously awaiting the Nazarene’s return to the city, and this is when they are planning to take the Antonia Fortress and freeing Barabbas.”

“This Nazarene,” Pilate interrupted. “He’s the supposed prophet who told the people to pay their taxes.”

“Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s,” Justus quoted aloud.

“He’s becoming more useful to us,” Pilate observed.

“Maybe so,” Artorius replied. “But he’s also proving useful to Barabbas’ followers. With the masses thronging to greet his arrival, his followers think we will be too distracted to stop them from taking the fortress, freeing him, and the others.”

“Then we should bar all the gates and make sure he cannot get in,” Cornelius said.

Artorius shook his head. “We’ll do no such thing,” he responded. “If we bar up the fortress every time there is rumor of unrest, the city would cease to function altogether.”

“I hate this fucking place,” Pilate grumbled as he rested his head on his clenched fist. “It’s only during this bloody Passover time that I have to be in Jerusalem.”

Artorius nodded in understanding and then turned to Abenader.
“The auxilia will oversee the Nazarene’s arrival and keep the crowds in order.”

“Understood,” the auxilia commander replied, notably refraining from calling Artorius ‘sir’. Though he had a far greater number of men under his command, Abenader still resented that Artorius was nominally his superior. The issue of seniority still continued to rear its ugly head, especially in light of the latest reprimand Abenader had received from Artorius regarding the persistent lackluster discipline of his auxiliaries.

Artorius then turned his attention to his legionary
centurions. “We’ll let Barabbas’ followers
in
to the Antonia fortress. Getting out will prove far more difficult.” He grinned wickedly at his last remark, eliciting some knowing chuckles from his men.

As Artorius left the meeting he was intercepted by Sergeant Cicero. Many of the lads still jested that he must be related to the famous orator of the same name. This was preposterous, as the Cicero whose death even his rival Julius Caesar lamented had come from a very wealthy and noble line. The man who mended breaks in their armor and kept their swords from cracking was a metal smith, as had been his father, and his father’s entire family for as long as could be remembered.

“Centurion Artorius!” Cicero called, waving his cohort commander down.

“I’m a little busy, sergeant,” Artorius replied, walking briskly down the hall. He hoped Abenader’s mounted scouts would get eyes on the Nazarene within the next day or so and give them enough warning as to his pending arrival.

“If it’s about the possible attack on the Antonia Fortress, you may want to see what I have to show you.” The armorer’s words stopped Artorius in his tracks.

“How long until the word spreads to the entire damned city,” Artorius muttered. He shook his head and then addressed Cicero again. “Alright, sergeant, you have my attention.”

“This way, sir.”

The centurions and options gathered in a semicircle around a pair of scorpions at the practice range. Cicero was proudly displaying what looked like a half moon blade on the end of an elongated scorpion bolt.

“The lads and I were trying to find a use for some of the scrap iron that’s been piling up in the smithy,” the
decanus explained. “Someone mentioned that the scorpions on the walls of the Antonia Fortress have terrible fields of fire and do us little good. So that’s when we came up with this.” He handed the bolt to Artorius, who turned it over in his hand.

“This is rather heavy for a scorpion round,” Centurion Magnus observed as Artorius handed it to him. “I see you’ve added a counterweight to the back end.”

“Yes, sir,” Cicero conceded. “However, the idea we came up with is for a shock weapon that can be used at close range. We had to lengthen the bolt so that the blade will fit. That, combined with the weight slows down the speed and accuracy at any kind of range. However…”

He nodded to four of his men, who cranked the torsion
ropes back on the scorpions. Artorius noticed they had set up straw figures in the shapes of men on the range. They loaded modified bolts into the weapons and fired. The heavy blades sliced through several of the targets before slamming into the far wall. Artorius and the other officers grinned in appreciation.

“Not bad,” Praxus remarked under his breath.

“That’ll ruin somebody’s day,” Valens added with a laugh.

“As you can see,” Cicero
continued, his face beaming, “At close range, the bolts still have plenty of velocity and can cut through a mob of bandits with ease. Any attack on our stronghold will doubtless have us at a severe disadvantage in numbers. I say we even the odds a bit.”

“My master will be arriving at the gates of Jerusalem tomorrow morning,” Judas said.
Their meeting place was a basement in an abandoned warehouse that was in serious disrepair. Few even acknowledged its existence, and the underground room was well hidden. A rebel called Yaakov grinned and turned to his assembled leaders.

“Tomorrow will be time for us to
free our leader and take Judea back for the Judeans!” he shouted, bringing a cheer from his men. He looked back at Judas. “A pity your master will not join us. His influence with the people could be quite useful.”

“He is a man of peace,” Judas protested.

“And a Roman sympathizer!” a man spat.

Yaakov
then grabbed Judas gently by the shoulder.

“Can he not see?” he asked. “His people are
here
, not in Rome! One word would be all he’d have to say.
Freedom!
He could rally all the tribes of Israel against the hated occupiers. Right now we are divided, leaderless. Barabbas’ hope was that once Jerusalem was in our hands, perhaps the tribes would unite, but we need a real leader. There are many who will not follow Barabbas, but they will follow the Nazarene.”