The Third Day (33 page)

The guests raised their goblets. 

“In fact, she is such glorious sight that I’m tempted to enjoy her right now.” 

I struggled not to react.  Before Sharon’s arrival, a number of Herod’s guests had been doing exactly that with other women. 

To my great relief, Publius quickly stepped in. 

“Your highness, you surprise me,” he said. 

“In what way?” 

“I agree she is a glorious specimen, but I was led to believe that your Amazon was truly without blemish.  This one looks like she has been whipped into the hall.  Look at her face:  I doubt she can even see out of that eye.” 

“I did no such thing.” 

“I am certain that you did not, but perhaps those in your service were not as discerning.” 

The king didn’t reply, though I did see the first hints of doubt cross his mind.

“I could understand why a degenerate Parthian might have to resort to such means to obtain female companionship,” said the Roman, “but it is ill suited to a great king such as yourself.”

Herod stared forward, unsure of his next action.  Meanwhile, Publius laid it on thick. 

“Your majesty, we all know that when women encounter a real man, you cannot keep them away.  For instance, I am told that last night, the girls literally fought among themselves for the chance to leap upon your royal, um, presence.” 

A satisfied grin crossed Herod’s face.  “Indeed they did.” 

“When this one is able to see your manhood with both eyes open, she, too, will be unable to resist, but until then, she is a forced captive who does your reputation no credit.” 

Herod considered this as a reveler a few tables away cried out.  “I just get them drunk.” 

His retinue broke into riotous laughter. 

The king stared at her for a few moments, and then waved a hand at the eunuchs. 

“Take her back and salve her wounds.  I will enjoy her tomorrow night.  Her eye should heal sufficiently by then.” 

But before they could do so, something caught the king’s eye. 

“Wait,” he said.  “Bring her back.  Let me see her up close.” 

I saw a look of confusion cross the Roman’s face.  Publius wasn’t sure what was coming next, either. 

Herod reached up and ran his fingers across Sharon’s breast and then up toward her neck.  It was only then that I saw the pendant dangling, half caught in the golden collar. 

“What is this?” 

She glanced over in my direction, but there was nothing I could do.  I just stared ahead as Herod grasped the listening device in his fingers, trying without success to figure out what it was. 

At that moment, a man slid into the room from the nearby tunnel – Azariah, probably, if I had understood Sharon’s description correctly. 

“She values it for some reason, your majesty, though I cannot understand why,” he said.  “It is not made of a precious gem, nor of gold, yet she became very upset when we tried to take it away.” 

Herod smiled and reached to lift the pendant over her head.  Sharon had no choice but to let him have it, though her struggle to keep an even expression did not pass unnoticed. 

“Look at her now,” said the king.  “Parting with it is causing her great distress.”  

Herod then draped it around his own neck.

“She must not worry:  I am only keeping it a reminder of the pleasure we will enjoy tomorrow.  Afterwards, I will give it back, along with another one of pure gold.” 

This was unwelcome, to be sure.  Without her ability to guide us with the transmitter, our task of extracting her from the palace complex had become considerably more difficult. 

She glanced in my direction. 

I nodded as imperceptibly as I could, to acknowledge that I had observed what happened.  But I could do nothing else. 

Herod waved his hand as a signal for the eunuchs to lead her away.  Sharon, though, had taken only five steps when she suddenly stopped and turned around.  She made a deep, slow bow to the king, going all the way to the floor while extending her arms out to each side

Then she stood, raised her arms and sang – not shouted, mind you –
sang
– “top floor, middle tower; top floor, middle tower” before bowing again and turning away for good. 

***

Shortly thereafter, another naked girl bounced onto the king’s lap, and I could tell from their exertions that Herod wouldn’t spend another moment of this night pining after unrequited love; nor would anyone else at the head table, for that matter. 

Given the circumstances, the king’s jovial conviviality was easy to understand.  What followed, though, took me by surprise. 

As the evening’s festivities began to wind down, Herod leaned toward the centurion and glanced over to me. 

“Publius,” he said.  “Is this man a slave?”  

“No, your majesty; he is a free man, who now serves us as a physician.” 

“A physician?  Is he good?” 

“We have found him quite skilled.” 

“He looks like a soldier.” 

“He was, but he is now retired, as I hope to be in three years,” said Publius. 

The king called for a more wine, though he took only a half goblet this time.  After drinking it, he glanced in my direction again. 

“Since this man serves you well, I will give him a girl.” 

He pointed to the closest nearby woman.  “You there, see to this man’s, um, requirements.” 

Before the girl could comply, Publius shook his head. 

“I am afraid he is on duty, your majesty.” 

“Ah, duty.  You Romans all talk of duty.  You should learn to enjoy life more.” 

“Unfortunately, that is our law.” 

“Well, then, here’s what I’ll do.  Tell him to take her to the fort when you go back tomorrow morning.  You can send her back here the following day.” 

Publius considered this to be an altogether satisfactory arrangement and managed to pantomime the gist of what the king had in mind. 

I forced a grin – any servant who had been awarded such an unexpected boon would have done so – but at the same time, I realized that the king’s choice, a timid creature not much older than sixteen, just wouldn’t do. 

I gestured toward another woman dancing at the end of the adjacent
triclinium
– a dark-haired beauty in her mid-twenties. 

I’m not always the best judge of human character, especially at first sight, but she had alert, intelligent eyes.  More importantly, her spirit did not appear to have been crushed by her “responsibilities” in Herod’s service.  If anyone knew the ins and outs of the palace, she would. 

Publius saw whom I had in mind. 

“I believe he would rather have that one, if it is not too much trouble,” he said. 

“An excellent choice,” said Herod.  “You may take her when you go.”

Servants directed our party to our quarters through a series of narrow tunnels, which only compounded my belief that without inside knowledge, we’d never find our way through the palace’s tangled web of passageways. 

Publius sent the woman to a side chamber and then scribbled something in Greek on a wax tablet.  He gestured that I should take advantage of my free time to have a look around, which I did – though after half an hour of stumbling about in the dim light, I decided that I could accomplish more by getting a good night’s sleep. 

A slave woke us just before dawn and led us down to the stables, where I could see that my reputation for horsemanship had preceded me.  The Romans all laughed as one of the hands brought up an elderly mare only a step or two away from the glue factory. 

At least it wouldn’t throw me.  I hoped. 

We made our way around the northern perimeter of the city at a leisurely pace, though we sped up toward the end as the Romans sensed trouble brewing. 

They weren’t wrong in their assessment, either.  A crowd had begun to gather at the northern end of the plaza fronting the Antonia.  Though I couldn’t understand what they were saying, there was no mistaking the angry murmuring.  This was not a happy bunch. 

The interior of the fortress had turned into an anthill of activity as well.  As soon as we charged through the gates, grooms took our horses – mine to cut up for breakfast, in all likelihood – as a Roman messenger called out to Publius. 

The centurion directed me to follow him and shortly thereafter, I found myself once again in Pilate’s office. 

The governor was pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself.  Publius saluted and inquired about his foot, but Pilate just waved his hand as if he couldn’t be bothered. 

Seeing that no one paid any attention to me, I backed up to the wall and did my best to blend into the stone.  I tapped the earpiece’s transmitter so Lavon also could listen to the most amazing conversation I have ever heard.  To this day, I can recall every single word. 

***

Pilate finally stopped pacing and beckoned Volusus and the centurion to sit. 

“You might wish you had stayed with Herod,” said the governor, who was no doubt well aware of the standard operating procedure at the king’s feasts.  “We have a situation on our hands.” 

“What’s happening,” said Publius. 

“It’s that prophet,” said Volusus.  “The Temple police picked him up last night.” 

“They’re questioning him as we speak,” said Pilate.  “In order to overcome the objections of his sympathizers in their council, Caiaphas will provide him a final opportunity to renounce this kingdom nonsense, publicly and unequivocally.  If he does, I’ve agreed they can let him go.  If he does not … well …” 

“This is good, isn’t it?” said Publius.  “I thought you wanted to get rid of him.” 

“I do indeed,” Pilate replied. 

But the governor did not appear to display any real enthusiasm for the task – something Publius found confusing.

“The problem,” said Volusus, “is his followers.” 

“How many do we have in custody?” asked Publius. 

“None,” said Pilate.  “We weren’t involved in the arrest at all.  I thought it best that their Temple police handle the business.  I only sent an agent to observe.” 

“Well then, how many did
they
take into custody?” 

“Again, none,” said Volusus. 

Now the centurion looked really perplexed.  “Their soldiers couldn’t catch them?  Didn’t any of his followers try to resist?” 

“One of them took a half-hearted swing with a sword,” Volusus replied.  “He sliced off a guard’s ear or something like that; so I’m told.” 

“Only one?” 

Volusus chuckled and held up a finger.  “Yes;
one
.  A single, solitary man fought back for a brief moment.  The rest of them ran like rabbits.” 

“Where did they go?” asked Publius. 

“We don’t know,” replied Pilate.  “Like I said, we had no direct role in picking him up.  Our friends in the Temple have never demonstrated our customary
thoroughness
when handling this type of affair.  You know that.” 

Publius stared down at his feet.  Finally he looked up.  “You’re worried that this is a trick; a deception of some sort?” 

Pilate nodded.  “The whole thing was too easy.  Only a few days ago, at least two thousand people lined the road waving palm branches as he rode into the city.  They’re still out there.  Some of them may be inside the walls as we speak, waiting for a signal.” 

“Our intelligence networks are pretty good,” said Publius.  “Surely we would have picked up at least some hint of that?” 

“I would caution us all against overconfidence,” said Pilate.  “An assumption like that is a time-honored path to disaster.” 

“Herod, too, would have warned us if he had knowledge of trouble,” said the centurion.  “I heard nothing to that effect last night.” 

“That’s because your head was between – ”

Pilate cut himself off.  “Never mind,” he snapped. 

The governor stood up and got something to drink; then he started pacing back and forth once more.  As he did so, the two senior Romans talked quietly amongst themselves. 

I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but their faces visibly brightened.  Whatever they were cooking up, they seemed well pleased with it. 

“Perhaps, excellency, there is another solution,” said Volusus.  “As you know, a crowd is beginning to form to the north of the fort.” 

This got Pilate’s attention.  He stopped pacing and returned to his seat. 

“Did you find out what they want?” he asked. 

“We heard grumbles about Barabbas,” said the centurion. 

Pilate sighed.  “With this prophet business, I had forgotten about him.  What do you have in mind?” 

“We let him go,” replied the commander. 

“Let him
go
?” said Pilate. 

“Yes, excellency.” 

Pilate shook his head, vigorously.  “No.  Not a chance.  This man is directly responsible for the deaths of Roman soldiers. 
Your men
,” he added.  “He must die.”