The Wolf and the Lamb (17 page)

Chapter XXXII

Gamaliel and Loukas descended the gentle slope from the city toward Loukas’ house. An agitated Sarai stood at his gate. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and looked up the street toward the Sheep Gate. Once she had them in sight, she rushed forward.

“Master, the Prefect’s wife needs you to attend her. She sends a messenger with a scrap of papyrus.” She handed him a crumpled and yellowed note.

“There is nothing on this.”

“No sir, there is not. It seems the woman was so nervous the dampness of her hands washed away the script, but she said the message was very important and though she could not read, she heard the urgency in her mistress’ voice.”

“Urgent, how urgent? What has happened?”

“The messenger could not say. All she said to me was that you should go to the lady immediately.”

“That is strange. Think. Rabban, we have been in the company of agents from the Fortress all day and no one approached us with any message.”

“Not so strange. The message from the Prefect’s wife and the surveillance are obviously neither related nor connected.”

“Do you think the message is from Pilate and he uses his wife as a subterfuge?”

“That would be my guess. Off you go, then, Loukas. I do not think I will wait for you here. If our trackers are still in play, it would be best if they did not follow you to the Fortress. I will leave first. I am now persuaded they are interested in me, not you. I will take them along with me to my house. If the news is important, you can stop by tonight and tell me what it is. Otherwise, I shall call on you tomorrow. Delay a few moments.” Loukas frowned. “Recite a psalm and then leave. Better make it a longish one. I am weary and the route to the Sheep Gate from here is all uphill. I need to sweep all of our new found friends into the city before you leave.”

“And if they do not all go with you? What if their interest turns out to be me instead of you, or both of us? What then?”

“In that case we will at least divide them. Don’t forget there were more than one set of them behind us today which implies several people wish to know what we are up to. And all of them still wait for you, or me, or both of us. Nevertheless, I am reasonably sure it is I who interests them. Still, you may be right. We will soon find out. Remember—recite a psalm.”

Gamaliel turned and climbed back up the hill to the Sheep Gate and disappeared through it. Loukas began to mumble.

O God, the heathen are come into your inheritance; they have defiled your holy Temple; they have laid Jerusalem on heaps. The dead bodies of your servants have they given to be meat unto the fowls of the heaven, the flesh of your holy ones to the beasts of the earth. Their blood they have shed like water round about Jerusalem; and there was none to bury them…

When he reached,
we will show forth your praise to all generations,
he stopped and glanced back up the street toward the gate. Except for a few people he recognized as his neighbors or at least local, the way to the gate was clear. Gamaliel had it right. Whoever these people were and whatever they were after, it concerned only the Rabban. He sent Sarai back into the house and retraced his steps up the slope and into the city and thence to the Antonia Fortress. It was time to find out what the Prefect needed to tell him, assuming it was he who bid him come and not his wife.

***

Gamaliel did not hurry home. He knew Binyamin would not have his supper ready for another hour and he wanted time to pray. He would make a trip to his
mikvah
and then he would eat. He felt the presence of his watchers as he walked. He managed to ignore them. Surely they could not be happy about their day’s work. He and Loukas had led them to the amphitheater, inspected the tower at the Joppa Gate and what was alleged to be David’s tomb. They wasted at least two hours at that and then took their shadows to the Water Gate, the Golden Gate, and inspected at least a mile of wall. While he and the Physician could enjoy an occasional stop to visit a colleague or have refreshment, the men lurking behind them had to keep constantly on the alert. Loukas had them make another quick turn which forced the men who were working in tandem to change places once again. They debated and then discarded the idea of spending the afternoon doing that maneuver.

“If we do it too often,” Gamaliel said, “they will know that we have found them out, and I really don’t want that to happen. I want them to think we are sublimely ignorant of their presence and their work. I believe that if they deliver a message to their master or masters as the case may be, it will be that we were wandering about aimlessly, and they will find that suspicious because they have determined that we are up to something.”

“What? Why would they think that?”

“Why else follow someone except you suspect they are about to do something revealing. Therefore they will assume that all this traipsing about has a significance that they must now decipher. It will keep them off balance for hours. So, walk on. We need to give them some things to discuss.”

***

Gamaliel had finished his supper when Loukas arrived. He refused Gamaliel’s offer of some lamb and greens but accepted a chalice of wine.

“What news from the fort?”

“It is confusing. As you suspected, Pilate sent the message, not his wife. Pilate, it seems, has been restored to his position, but the charges of murder have not been dropped. He may not leave the premises except to perform his official duties. His tormenters, the Tribune in particular, made it clear that he will be going back to Italia with them in a few days. Pilate, oddly, seems perfectly content with this arrangement. It is a puzzle.”

“Indeed. Did he have a message for me? Did he remember anything useful? More importantly, have we been dismissed from our investigation?”

“No, to the last. He wonders what happened to Marius and if we knew anything about the boy’s disappearance. His wife, on the other hand, seemed quite animated and queried me at some length about that horse. I claimed we knew nothing about the beast. The horse lives, by the way, no thanks to you.”

“We will celebrate the horse’s resurrection later. I know the Latins do love their animals, even dogs, which is incomprehensible to me. Indeed, only Arabs seem to hold horses in higher esteem. So, he doesn’t know what happened to the boy either. That is interesting, don’t you think? Why do you suppose he ran away?”

“The boy? Who knows? Too many beatings, too little food. I can tell you from personal experience that slavery is a hard life even when your master is kind. I can’t imagine that life in the Prefect’s house could be easy.”

“I know you are acquainted with slavery, so tell me, did that boy seem to be living a hard life, as you understand it?”

Loukas sipped his wine and stared hungrily at the side of lamb on the plate.

“Perhaps a slice. Do you mind?” Loukas cut a generous slab from the haunch and chewed a moment. He swallowed and emptied his cup. Gamaliel refilled it.

“No, he did not look like someone who had had a particularly hard life.”

“No, I would have guessed the same. Not easy, but not hard either. Another question for you, who would be in charge of the servants in the Fortress?”

“If Pilate’s house is managed like any other, he would have a steward. That man would manage all of the household accounts and keep track of the servants.”

“When the Prefect arrives in Jerusalem, his household staff would be merged with the local one, that is to say, the Fortress staff, would it not?”

“Yes, undoubtedly.”

“So, in the confusion of his arrival and the additional chaos caused by the arrival earlier of the entourage from Rome…” Gamaliel’s voice trailed off. He poured himself another small measure of wine and drank. “I wonder.”

“Wonder what? Are you suggesting that in the confusion one of the Tribune’s men, or in this case, the boy, managed to infiltrate the Prefect’s household?”

“That is one possibility, yes.”

“One? There are others?”

“Oh yes, several.”

“And they are?”

“Too soon, Loukas, my friend. I need to think about it some more. So, what did we learn about the theater this morning?”

“It was nearer noon and the answer is we learned nothing except that drama, whether Greek or Roman, is not popular in this city and the theater itself is used primarily for lectures, large meetings, and speech giving.”

“That’s all?”

“What else should I have learned? Dare I ask?”

“Actors, players”

“At the moment, there are none to speak of. A few itinerant players who must maintain themselves with other employment, the nature of which I’d prefer not to discuss.”

“Yes, but picture how the plays are presented when they are performed, Loukas—the broad
pulpitum
and the
scaena
behind it, the
auditorium
in front, and the actors, actors in their costumes. A purple costume means the player is supposed to be a rich man while a red costume indicates a poor one. Boys wear striped togas, soldiers short cloaks. A yellow robe means the character is a woman and a short tunic means the player is a slave. Then a yellow tassel means the character is supposed to be a god. So very convenient. It’s easy to identify your friends and your enemies in the theater. Then there are the masks. Think about it, in the play, it is one’s appearance and mask that defines character, not the person wearing them, or in the case of the mask, holding it aloft. I find that most interesting, don’t you?”

“You know something, don’t you?”

YOM CHAMISHI

Chapter XXXIV

Caiaphas stretched and contemplated the dawn of a new day. A day in which he would revel in the success of the previous night and plan the next steps. The hearing had not been easy. The Yehudah person had made a poor witness. He’d been happy enough to accept the silver, but hesitated when it came time to betray his teacher. And then, there was the usual second guessing by revisionist thinkers, dithering in uncertainty. “What is Law?” they had asked, as if it were debatable. He’d listened to the undecided among them and some others as they wavered and questioned protocol. He’d let them. It was all part of the plan. He had time on his side, time and history.

If there was one thing Jews live with every hour of every day, it is their history, that nagging sense that the Lord is constantly watching and judging them from time eternal. They are convinced that if they err from the path He has set for them, judgment will follow, sooner or later, perhaps, but inevitably. Caiaphas believed that if reason failed, the sweep of history would convict. One way or another he knew he’d succeed and he had. He’d only to wait until everyone had their say and then he’d stood and addressed them, relieved that Gamaliel was not there to interrupt him or sway the meeting away from its necessary conclusion. For, it was necessary that the Galilean be taken care of. Of that he had no doubts.

When the meeting had worn down and the participants were weary with what seemed endless testimony and debate, he’d begun his summation.

“We are given leave by our overlords, the Romans, to practice our faith as our fathers have, as we have through history. We may continue our sacrifices, our feasts, and worship, enforce our Law. In return, our conquerors maintain the roads, keep the peace, and protect us. For this, they collect taxes and extract tribute. It is not a situation we like or wish to continue. But the reality is, they are here and they will be here for a long time to come. Moreover, if they wish to, they could crush us like eggs. All of you have witnessed their willingness to strike out for the most trivial cause.”

Here he’d paused and pointed at Yeshua.

“Now, along comes this misguided man, besotted with messianic zeal. He started a riot in the holiest place on earth, in the Temple itself.” That part, Caiaphas knew was a stretch. The riot occurred in the area somewhat removed from the Temple where the money exchangers plied their trade. Still, he liked the image it evoked. “He threatens to bring the Temple down. He says ‘Not one stone will stand on another!’ He makes a mockery of the Prefect by entering the city riding on an ass with a reed for a scepter. Hundreds joined him in this foolishness. Do you suppose the Romans will put up with this? For how long? Is it even likely? You know they are a race with little patience for acts of disrespect and none at all with civil unrest. What this Pilate, whose reputation for cruelty is legend, is capable of. Even now Jewish blood stains the pavement outside these very doors, spilled by him and his soldiers.”

At this point in his speech, Caiaphas had travelled the length of the room and stood directly in front of Josef of Arimathea. Fixing him with a glare he hoped others would view as righteous anger, he continued.

“But, as great a threat as that is, there is an even greater one we must address.”

Caiaphas paused again, hearing his words resound off the stone walls, hoping they would carry the day. No longer was he to be seen as just a persecutor of country rabbis. Now he stood for the Nation, perhaps its only champion.

“Blasphemy! Oh, I know what has been said, ‘It is not unlawful to claim to be a messiah.’ That is correct. In the past, many have, some do now, and no doubt, many will in the future.”

When Caiaphas realized he’d just echoed Gamaliel’s words to him earlier, he’d almost tripped over the remainder of what he planned to say. Gamaliel would not approve of having his own argument used against him, although Caiaphas guessed he’d appreciate the irony.

“But this man is no ordinary prophet claiming to speak for the Lord. No, he claims to speak
as
the Lord. Understand, when he says he is His son, he does not mean, as we do, that we are all children of our Creator, he means His son, quite literally. In the Pagan world, he would be claiming status as a demigod. You can appreciate, then, the grave position he put us in. As more and more people are drawn into this spider’s web, I fear swift and certain judgment will come down on us. Consider when in our past when we strayed from the path of righteousness. How did
Ha Shem
deal with us then? Dare we forget the Philistines, the Amelekites, or Babylon? Listen, it is the Passover. Shall we forget the captivity or wandering in the desert for four generations because our fathers worshipped a golden calf instead of
Ha Shem
? How, I ask you, how will He deal with us now?”

The silence in the room, he thought, spoke volumes. Let Gamaliel with his temporizing refute that.

“So, we are confronted with a dual threat, you see? The Nation at risk, either from the retribution dealt out by Rome or from judgment dealt by the Lord. The Lord’s wrath or Rome’s—which shall it be? Either would be terrible, but both? Both will spell an end to us forever.” He’d spread his arms and gazed at the wall at the end of the room and boomed, “Is it not better, then, that this one man should die, than the whole Nation suffer?”

When Caiaphas said this, men leaned forward and, one by one, nodded. Only Josef shook his head, but with more “yes” than “no.” Caiaphas had won the day. The room remained hushed.

One man sitting at the far end of the hall said, “But ‘that this one man should die…’ Even if we were to find him guilty of all the things he is charged with at a trial, we may not condemn him to death, High Priest.” This comment set the room to murmuring. One or two of the Sanhedrin put their hands to their heads as if to ward off a certain strike by the Lord.

“Yes, yes, I know. But you agree, do you not, it would be appropriate,
if
we could?”

Most of them nodded and seemed relieved at the qualifier, the
if.
All, that is, except Josef who looked stricken.

“But a trial, Caiaphas,” he said, “there must be a formal trial. The Rabban will tell us that we have our Law to maintain even if, as you say, we only employ it with the sufferance granted by Rome, still, we must keep to it.”

Caiaphas had shrugged and turned away. “What must be—must be.” And the deed was done.

Caiaphas strode across the Temple Mount. He felt exhilarated. The sun had just cleared the eastern walls; the fires were still banked at the Altar of Sacrifice. He’d had his day. More accurately, he had his day and night and now he was free to proceed. It had taken a great deal of effort and some calling in of favors, but he had managed to convene the Sanhedrin and hold his hearing on the rabbi at last. Equally, he had managed to avoid any meddling the Rabban might have provided. That had been a lucky stroke. Apparently Josef of Arimathea had spoken to the Rabban the previous morning, but Gamaliel had refused to attend. He said, as Josef told it, that he could not be impartial at a trial should there be one later, if he also attended the hearing.

Caiaphas knew enough about the intricacies of Law to understand that the case against Rabbi Yeshua would not stand up to close scrutiny during a prolonged trial. True, there had been the riot in the chambers of the money changers and that would count for something, but it would not create the sense of outrage and fear needed. So, there could be no trial. It was one thing for people with a grudge against rabbis in general and this Galilean one in particular, to testify free of constraint, but quite another if asked to repeat their testimony in circumstances which carried penalties for perjury. No, he required a different approach and after making his speech in the hearing the day before, he could now proceed without any interference from the Sanhedrin or the Rabban.

Caiaphas hurried on his way. He needed to secure his prisoner soon. If the Sanhedrin could not permanently end this Yeshua’s nonsense, he knew that Pilate could. There was no love lost between Rome and Israel, but at the same time each understood the need for this forced symbiotic relationship. Pilate would solve his problem. He would make his case before the Prefect.