The Making of the Lamb (9 page)

“Those would be the Cymbri,” said Nehemiah. “They were Gauls slaughtered by the thousands when the Romans came to this province more than a hundred years ago. It was the handiwork of a general named Marius. He’s the same general who built this canal to bring supplies to his troops up in Arelate.”

“Why make fences out of bones?” Jesus asked.

“They had one hundred ninety thousand dead Gauls on their hands,” Nehemiah answered. “That’s just the soldiers killed in two battles. The rest, even the women and children, killed themselves rather than be taken as slaves. There were too many to bury, so the farmers used the bones to make fences.”

“It’s like something out of Ezekiel,” said Jesus.

“Are you going to prophesy to these bones?” Daniel asked. “I don’t know how dry these bones are; they probably stayed a little damp this close to the swamp, actually.”

“Don’t be funny, Daniel. I don’t think these bones are from the Lost Tribes. It just seems so brutal the way the Romans killed so many people and then used the bodies. The lives of the slaughtered do not seem to matter to them. I think it’s important to know that while our people suffer under Roman oppression, we are not alone.”

“That’s all very interesting, Jesus.” Joseph strode purposefully across the deck to join them. “However, I will thank you to keep such thoughts to yourself while we make our way across Gaul. We are crossing Roman lands ahead, and such words can put us in grave danger. We are only an hour or so away from Arelate, and I will have some business with the legate. He is a good and decent man, but never forget that he is first and foremost a Roman and proud of his country. I cannot afford to offend him.”

Joseph led Daniel and Jesus up the brick pathway that led to the home of his friend Septurius, the legate of Rome. A fine dommus, the home had iron bars on the windows. Joseph greeted the porter who guarded the vestibule, protecting against thieves, beggars, and any other urban horribles who might threaten or offend the tranquility of the interior.

They were shown to the atrium. There, marble and bronze statues surrounded the
impluvium
at the atrium’s center. Out of the baking sun, the air felt cooler and fresher, almost as if a patch of pleasant countryside had been transported to town. As the Romans put it,
rus in urbe.

Daniel showed Jesus around among the statues, also pointing out the ducks, swans, fish, and all manner of aquatic plants depicted in the mosaic floor.

Jesus looked up at the rectangular patch of open sky. “Uncle, why is part of the roof missing?”

“To allow rainwater to fill the pool,” Daniel answered before Joseph had a chance. “That’s why they call the pool an
impluvium.”

“It’s quite impressive with rainwater falling in,” said Joseph. “It’s something to see at night in the light of the oil lamps.”

“I bet it splashes on the floor a lot,” said Jesus. “I guess the Romans need to keep their minions busy with the mopping.”

Joseph raised an eyebrow in warning. “Remember what I said aboard the ship?”

“I’m sorry, Uncle. I will just stand behind you and Daniel. I will be quiet as a mouse when we meet your friend.”

Septurius strode into the atrium and embraced Joseph. Merchants of lower social rank were required to wait and then, when summoned, approach the legate as he sat behind a table on a raised platform in his office. But as a
noblis decurio
, Joseph was entitled to the courtesy of having the legate come from his office and greet him in the atrium. Besides, the two were longtime friends.

“Greetings, my friend,” Septurius said in Greek.

Only a thin purple border on his white toga signified Septurius’s office. The simplicity of his garb was a marked contrast to that of Joseph. Romans were not put off by distant travelers appearing in native dress, so Joseph had on his best cloak, a subdued shade of red with gold fringes at the hem and at the ends of the wide sleeves. It was loosely draped over his shoulders and open in front, revealing the long white tunic bound with a gold-colored sash around his waist. His skullcap was light green, with its turned-up edge revealing a gold-colored lining.

“Daniel, how you’ve grown over the winter,” said Septurius. “What has it been, eight months?” He turned back to Joseph. “So, my friend, how long will you be in Arelate?”

“Just a few days at most, to hire a wagon team and possibly trade some of my olive oil for other goods,” Joseph replied. “I need to see what wares the local craftsmen have.” Joseph took the legate’s cue as the two continued in Greek.
Clever of him to forgo Latin for this occasion.
That showed a bit of culture while also keeping the conversation private within the earshot of household slaves.

“Ah, you’re in need of trinkets. You must be off to trade with the Britons again.”

“Yes, but it is becoming a sorry business to deal with the Cantiaci tribe around Dvrobrivae. They know how much Romans dislike sailing across open seas, and they occupy the only place on the other side of the
Oceanus Britannicus
that you can reach while staying within sight of land. So, they take advantage by exacting heavy tolls. On my last expedition, I went out to a place called Yengi. Have you heard of it?”

“Isn’t that the old Celtic trading port on the southern coast of Britain? They still export slaves from there, don’t they?”

“Yes. Some merchants also go there to pick up iron ore. They find it lying around the beach.”

“There’s not much money to be made in iron,” Septurius said. “And you don’t have armed retainers to control slaves. Jupiter knows you would need them. I tried purchasing a Briton earlier this year, and the cheeky bastard struck another slave. I had to sell him off to the workhouse at a great loss. If he had done that to a freeman, I would have been forced to have him crucified. I’d have lost my entire investment.”

“I go in search of more profitable metals,” Joseph said. “A little tin will strengthen ten times as much copper into a strong bronze alloy. When I was in Yengi last time, I came across a chieftain who had several large tin ingots that he didn’t know what to do with. I bought them for a song. I paid heavy tolls to the Cantiaci and several other tribes just to bring the ingots through their provinces back to our ship. It cost me more for the tolls than for what I paid for the ingots in the first place. Nevertheless I made a nice profit selling them in Judea.”

“Yes, I have heard that it’s a sorry business dealing with those British kingdoms.”

“But looking around this room, I am reminded of how the good people of Rome love bronze. You have a lot of bronze items right here, and you cannot make bronze without tin. Even with the tolls, there’s money to be made from tin if I can locate a reliable supply, and even more profit if I can figure out how to avoid the tolls.”

“I see where you are going with this, and you may be onto something. There are many places to get iron and copper, but few places to get tin.” Septurius paused. “You know, I might be interested in making an investment if you need capital for this venture.”

“I am not far along enough to take your money for that—I must first secure the supply. This is an exploratory voyage, but there will be ample opportunity for investment if it works out. In the meantime, I was wondering if you might be interested in exporting a partial shipload under our usual consignment terms.”

Septurius glanced about the room. “Let’s discuss that tomorrow.”

“Very well, we’ll talk business tomorrow. But now, before the day wanes, I must be off to find rooms at one of your local inns.”

“Nonsense,” said Septurius, “I will not hear of it. There is plenty of room in my home for an old friend, and as legate of this city I command it.” He laughed and turned to Daniel. “You seem to be old enough for your own room now.” A slightly stocky, pimply faced boy of about fourteen approached as Septurius continued addressing Daniel. “You remember my younger son, Longinus?” Septurius looked at Jesus and then turned back to Joseph. “I will have the slaves make room for your servant boy, too.”

Joseph turned to Jesus and saw the reason for Septurius’s mistake. Between the rush to get him out of Galilee and the quick stopover at Salamis, there had not been any time to obtain decent clothes for the boy. He was still dressed like a peasant, in the same worn homespun cloth in which he left Nazareth, except that the voyage had taken its toll in the form of several large tears in the fabric. Daniel was turning red, but Jesus smiled. Joseph quickly explained their relation, though not the reason for the boy’s abrupt departure from home.

Septurius beckoned Jesus forward. “Terribly sorry, I had no idea...”

“Sir, there is no need to apologize,” Jesus said. “You were quite correct; I am indeed a servant, of my God and my people.”

Septurius let out a hearty laugh and slapped Jesus on the shoulder. “Well said, lad!” He turned to Joseph. “With a wit like that and such a sense of public duty, I bet your nephew will be a consul in Rome someday.”

“I see that the town prospers,” Jesus said. “I saw on the walk here from the ship that you have started building an amphitheater and a chariot circus. You must rule here with wisdom, and the emperor will surely recognize that soon.”

“Oh, he’s good!” Septurius remarked to Joseph with a grin. Then he responded to Jesus. “Actually, the citizens here have Julius Caesar to thank much more than me. He’s the one who stripped Massilia of its possessions and gave them to Arelate after Massilia took the wrong side in Julius’s war against Pompey. As for me, Arelate is likely to be my final posting—but a long one, unless I do something either phenomenally stupid or great to get the attention of my superiors. Nonetheless, life is good here, and I have no complaints. As legate of Rome, I maintain the peace and see to it that the taxes are collected. Arelate is an important port, but it is not even a regional center of the province. My jurisdiction ends at the town walls. A posting such as this is not given to men of strong ambition.”

Joseph smiled.
Perhaps I was too hard on Jesus earlier, on the ship.

There was something unsettling about the way Longinus kept glancing over to Daniel and Jesus as Joseph and Septurius wrapped up their conversation. Daniel detected a hint of a smirk that the boy managed to conceal from his father.

Septurius broke out in Latin as he turned to his son. “Be a good host now, and show these young men to their room. You will look after them for the next few days while they are our guests.”

“But, Father, what of my lessons?”

“You can put those aside for a few days. As far behind as you are, I doubt it will make much difference.”

Now it was Daniel’s turn to conceal his smile from his own father. Seeing Joseph beginning to raise his eyebrow, he feigned a cough and brought up his hand to conceal the lower part of his face.

“Good. That’s settled then. “Now that you have this unexpected holiday, I am sure that you and Joseph’s boys will become great friends.” Septurius turned to Joseph. “Come; allow me to show you to your room.”

“Follow me.” Longinus led them toward the rear of the house. The walls here were adorned with fresco paintings. A peristyle colonnade leading to the bedrooms surrounded an interior garden under an open roof.

Daniel now had to share the room he would have had for himself, but he did not mind. It was large and magnificently appointed. Longinus left to give them a chance to freshen up for dinner, and a slave stayed behind to attend to them. Daniel had made a fool of himself by teasing the household slaves the first time he had visited Septurius’s household, but Jesus did not appear even to be tempted.

A few minutes later, Longinus returned with a tunic in his hand. “Father said to find something more suitable for you to wear than those rags. Here, I’ve outgrown this, but it probably fits you.” He tossed the garment to Jesus and folded his arms. “Yes, that should do fine. You’re a little young to wear a toga, and you’re not really Roman.” Longinus smiled and left before Daniel had a chance to say anything.

“I don’t know why he’s so full of himself when he still wears the
praetexta
,” Daniel said once they were alone.

“Do you mean that broad purple stripe on his toga?”

“Yes, Roman boys trade it for a plain white toga
virilis
when they reach fifteen or sixteen. It is a big celebration. I just do not like the way he looked at you all high and mighty.”

“He’s a Roman. His country rules the known world, and we are from a conquered province. Of course he is going to look down on us. Look around this room. Back in Nazareth my family shares one small oil lamp to guide us through the darkness of the night. Here they have enough lamps in just this room to turn the night into day. By the way, what is going on with Septurius? He seemed secretive about dealing with Uncle Joseph.”

Another young slave came in bearing Daniel’s bag.

Not wanting strangers going through his things, Daniel signaled the slave to leave it on the chest. “It’s too bad you didn’t get a chance to bring anything from home. I’m sure Papa will get what you need now that we have a few days here.” Daniel got up and began sorting out his clothes. “Anyway, Papa explained Septurius’s story to me the last time. He comes from an aristocratic family, but he is not as rich as he appears to be. This house does not belong to him; he just gets to use it because of his position. The statues are all copies; there is not one Greek original among them. He only receives a modest salary, but he is expected to live on a grand scale to represent the wealth of the Empire. Aristocratic Romans in government service are not supposed to be involved in commerce, but many have no choice.”

“Is it against the law?”

“No. It’s just something that isn’t done. Aristocratic Romans are supposed to live off their estates. Dealing in commerce is not wrong or illegal, but it is something an enemy would make use of. Even Senators in Rome conduct commerce, but they do it secretly through an intermediary.” Daniel pulled out a blanket that needed folding.

Jesus started to get up to help his cousin, but the attending slave beat him to it. “Septurius is putting a great deal of trust in your father.”