The Expected One (45 page)

Mary’s mind was racing. All of this was happening so fast. She was struck by a terrible thought. “Oh, Easa. But who? Who of our own would have the stomach to do such a thing? Surely you can’t think that Peter or Andrew would be able. Certainly not Philip or Bartolome. Your brother James would shed his own blood first, and Simon would shed that of others.”

The answer came to her then, and they said it in unison. “Judas.”

Easa’s expression was grave. “And that is where I must go now, my dove. I must speak to Judas and tell him that he has been chosen for this task because of his strength.”

He kissed his wife’s cheek as he rose to take his leave. She watched him go with a growing sense of dread for what the next day would bring.

They assembled the following afternoon, as planned, for their meal together: Easa, his twelve chosen, and all of the Marys. The children stayed in Bethany with Martha and Lazarus.

Easa began the evening with the ritual of anointment. This was his own version, a role reversal wherein he bathed the feet of each person in the room. He explained that this was to acknowledge each person as a child of God who had a special mission to preach the word of the kingdom.

“I have given you this example, that you will do to others what has been done here to you. That you will acknowledge others as your equals under God. And a new commandment I will give you this night — that you will love each other the way that I love you. For when you go out into the world I would have people recognize that you are Nazarenes by the way you love each other.”

When he had bathed the feet of each follower in the room, Easa led them to the table for the Passover supper. Breaking a piece of the unleavened bread, he blessed it first, then said, “Take this and eat, for this bread shall be as my body.” And taking a cup of wine, he said thanks over it before passing it around the table. “This is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for many.”

Mary watched quietly along with the others. Only she and the other Marys knew the full details of the events that were to come. When Judas was given the signal by Easa, he would leave the supper and go to Jairus. Jairus would take him to Annas and Caiaphas, presenting Judas as the betrayer. Judas would ask for thirty pieces of silver; this would make his betrayal appear authentic. In exchange for the money, he would lead the priests to Easa’s private retreat, where, away from the unpredictable crowds of the city, it would be easy to arrest him.

The tension was plain on Judas’ face for those with eyes to see it. The other disciples were not told of this plan as Easa did not want to take any chances. He did not want it argued, and he certainly didn’t want the men to resist. Later, Mary would weep for Judas and the unfairness of it all. She would defend him to the other disciples, who saw him only as the betrayer. But by then, it would be too late by far for Judas Iscariot. God had created a place for him, and he had chosen to take it.

Easa turned to Judas now. He handed him a piece of bread soaked in wine, giving him the predetermined signal.

“What you must do, do quickly.”

As Mary watched Judas retreat from the room, her heart sank. There would be no going back now. She looked up in time to catch the eye of the Great Mary, who was also watching Judas walk out the door with Easa’s fate in his hands. The two women held each other in their gaze in that moment, each praying silently that God would protect their beloved Easa.

The guards came in greater numbers and with a force that Mary had not anticipated. It was well into night when Judas appeared over the rise with the soldiers of the high priest. There was chaos as the commotion of the extensive and heavily armed arresting party appeared on the scene, waking the male apostles. The women were holding vigil at a distance by a fire. All but Mary Magdalene, who waited with Easa.

Peter jumped from his position on the floor, grabbing a sword from one of the shocked younger soldiers. “Lord, we shall fight for you!” he cried, and went after a man he recognized, Malchus, the servant of the high priest. He cut the man’s ear badly with the sword, and blood flowed freely from the wound.

Easa rose and walked calmly toward the group. “Enough, brothers,” he said to Peter and the others. To the high priest’s cohort he said, “Put away your weapons. No man here will harm you. You have my word.”

He went to Malchus, who had fallen to his knees, and held his robe against his ear to stanch the blood. Easa placed his palm over the ear and said, “You have suffered enough for this.” When he removed his hand, the ear was healed and the flow of blood stopped.

Easa helped Malchus to his feet and addressed him. “Caiaphas sends out this group of armed men against me as he would to a thief or a murderer. Why? When I came every day to the Temple he made no attempts to arrest me nor to indicate that I was a danger. This is indeed an hour of darkness for our people.”

One of the soldiers, a man wearing the badges of a leader, stepped forward and demanded in a guttural attempt at Aramaic, “Are you Easa the Nazarene?”

“I am,” he answered plainly in Greek.

Several of the followers yelled accusations and questions at Judas. Easa had advised him not to speak if this happened, and Judas remained obedient. Instead, he kissed Easa gently on the cheek, hoping that by this sign some of the disciples might understand what he had been charged to do.

The soldier wearing the badges of his rank read out the charges for arrest, and Easa was led away to his fate at the hands of the high priests.

Mary Magdalene kept vigil with the other Marys late into the night. They could not get too close to the men — it was too risky. Emotions were running very high, and the women could not let on how much they knew about the night’s events.

The Marys led each other in prayer and offered each other quiet comfort. It was deep in the night when they saw a torch coming across the Kidron Valley toward their retreat. It was a small party, two men and what appeared to be a small woman. Mary got up from her place as she recognized the Herodian princess. She ran to Salome, embracing her. It was only then that she realized the man carrying the torch was a Roman centurion in plain clothes — the blue-eyed man whose painful broken arm Easa had healed.

“Sister, there is little time.” Salome was breathing heavily. They had obviously rushed to get here. “I have come from the Fortress Antonia. Claudia Procula sent me to you with her kindest regards and her deepest sympathies for the unjust arrest of your husband.”

Mary nodded, encouraging Salome to continue and swallowing the swelling fear in her gut. If the wife of the Roman procurator was sending out royal messengers in the middle of the night, something was terribly wrong.

“Easa will go to trial before Pilate in the morning,” Salome continued. “But Pilate is under terrible pressure to put him to death. Oh, Mary, he doesn’t want to. Claudia says that Pilate knows Easa healed their child, or at least he is willing in his Roman way to try to accept that. But my abominable stepfather is calling for Easa’s death as quickly as possible. Herod goes to Rome on the sabbath. He told Pilate he wants this ‘Nazarene problem’ sorted out before he leaves. Mary, you need to understand how serious this is. They may execute Easa. Tomorrow.”

This was all happening too fast. None of them had expected it, not like this. They expected an incarceration and a period when Easa would have the time to argue his case before Rome and before Herod. There had always been a possibility that the worst could happen, but not this fast.

Salome continued breathlessly. “Claudia Procula has sent us to fetch you. These two men are her trusted servants.” Mary looked up and saw the light reflect off the face of the silent man behind the torch. She recognized him now. He was the Greek who had held the ailing boy outside of Jairus’ house.

“They will take you to where Easa is being held. Claudia has seen to the situation with the guards until dawn. This may be your last chance to see him. But we have to go, and quickly.”

Mary asked them for one moment, and went to the Great Mary. She knew the older woman would never be able to make the required haste to get to Easa in time, but it was respectful to offer her place to Easa’s mother.

The Great Mary kissed her daughter-in-law on the cheek. “Give that to my son. Tell him I will be there tomorrow, come what may. Go with God, my daughter.”

Mary and Salome hurried to keep up with the silent men, who were moving quickly to the eastern edge of the city. Mary had taken an extra moment to change the red veil that identified her as a Nazarene priestess for a plain black one, as Salome wore. The Herodian princess informed Mary as they walked. “I have sent a messenger to Martha. Easa wants to see the children; he told Claudia’s servant as much.” She indicated the Greek slave. “Easa knew that you would not have time to go out to Bethany and bring them back if you were coming to see him.”

Mary’s thoughts were racing. She didn’t want Tamar and John to witness anything traumatic on the morrow, yet if the worst were to occur, Easa would need to see his children one final time. Little John was as much his own as Tamar; Easa loved them both unconditionally. The protection and safety of all of them would be an issue when the sun rose. Mary prayed silently for a moment but had little time to consider these issues now. They had arrived outside the area of Easas’ detainment. So far, the darkness had sheltered them and they had attracted no attention, but they would be forced to walk down a long flight of external stairs that were well lit by torches.

The centurion whispered instructions to them, and they waited for the Greek to survey the area quickly. The slave ran to the bottom of the stairs and gave the signal to come forward. Salome remained at the top of the stairs to act as watch, while the Greek filled the same role below. Mary and the centurion hurried down the stairs and into the prison corridors. He held the torch ahead of him to light the way in the subterranean space. Mary followed quickly behind, trying to block the sounds of men in pain and despair that echoed from the stone walls around her. She knew none of these sounds came from Easa — no matter what pain was afflicted upon him, he would never cry out; it was not in his nature. But she felt deep compassion for the other poor souls who awaited their fates in a Roman prison.