by Ian Miller
"That's true," Jonathon conceded, "but if . . ."
"It would be wrong of me to state that this order will be overturned," Gaius shrugged, "but I have hopes. In any case, can it hurt to try?"
"And the statue?"
"Governor Petronius has ordered that it be made as slowly as possible."
"Good for him," came the sceptical response.
"He has told the Princeps that all construction will have to stop while the workers go home and bring in the harvest," Gaius continued.
"That does not correct the problem!"
"No, but it delays the problem and it gives me time to at least try to correct it."
"And why should I believe you will succeed?"
"I make no guarantee of success at all," Gaius said, "but does it cost to remain within the law until the statue is actually produced before the Temple?"
"I have sworn to stop the statue entering the Temple," Jonathon said.
"Currently, it is elsewhere, and will be elsewhere for as long as possible."
"Please yourself," Jonathon said, as he stood up. "What you do with that statue is your business. All I require is that it is not in my temple."
"In Jehovah's temple," Gaius corrected in a firm tone.
"Indeed," came the sour reply.
"In return for your promising not to carry out any seditious acts, and return as near as possible to normality, I promise to give you adequate warning of when the statue is finished. That way, everything can be defused until confrontation cannot be averted."
"How can I trust you not to sneak it in while our guard is down?" Jonathon asked.
"Read this," Gaius said, handing over the document he had been given in Alexandria.
"Do you know what this says?" Jonathon frowned as he looked at Gaius again, this time with a more penetrating stare.
"I cannot read the writing," Gaius admitted. "It could say almost anything, but the man who gave it to me wished to thank me, so I hope it says what I think it does."
"It virtually requires me to trust you," Jonathon continued to frown, as he handed the document back. "I find it hard to see how you could have earned this."
"Then trust me anyway," Gaius said. "I also wish you to do something else."
"And that is?" came the impassive response.
"You must write a statement to the Princeps, as diplomatically as you can, stating why you think the statue should be moved. Do not threaten, just simply state your religious beliefs."
"I can do that."
"You will show it to me first," Gaius commanded.
"To use as evidence against me?" Jonathon gave a hollow laugh.
"To remove from it any evidence of sedition," Gaius replied evenly. "You should be pleading, stating fact, and not making threats."
"As you wish. All I wish to do is see the end of that statue."
"If you really want that, you should make a significant donation to Caesar's coffers."
"That's extortion!"
"On the contrary, I know you have been bribing the local Roman officials. This time, you can make a donation to the greatest Roman official, as is your way, to get what you want. Not only that, it won't be a bribe, but it does seem to put Caesar in a good mood if it's obviously a significant donation."
"And you think a letter from me will change Caesar's mind?" Jonathon said with almost a despairing look.
"No, it won't," Gaius replied, "but it will help reinforce the rest." He paused, then added wryly, "I personally think the donation could be the greatest single influence."
"What is this rest?" Jonathon asked doubtfully. He was keen to avoid the issue of the donation, although Gaius knew quite well that the point had been made.
"Caesar has shown an interest in the metaphysical," Gaius shrugged. "The Alexandrian philosopher Philo is in Rome. Besides his acknowledged wisdom, he has a firm knowledge of Judaism and he has at least some respect from Caesar. I have met him more than once when I was in Alexandria, and I believe I can persuade him to plead on your behalf. I also have word from Governor Petronius that he will officially request that Caesar reverse this decision. Finally, I have a friend who happens to be a member of the Imperial house, who will at the very least arrange the most propitious time."
"Why should I believe this?"
"Because it costs nothing," Gaius replied. "If the statue isn't in the Temple, does it really matter? Or is there more to this?"
"If the statue stays away from the Temple, that will be the end of the matter."
"Then there should be no protest until the statue is to be put in place," Gaius shrugged, "to give us every chance to avert confrontation."
"There is truth in that," Jonathon stated.
"Then go back, and persuade your people to keep the peace," Gaius said. "If Caesar believes you are basically law-abiding, then you may well get your way. If he believes this is a symptom of an incipient revolt, the legions will be deployed, and many people will be killed, quite unnecessarily."
"The legitimate citizens of Jerusalem will give you no trouble," Jonathon said. This time, as he got up, Gaius made no effort to stop him.
* * *
Gaius made further dispatches to Damascus. Petronius replied that after spending forty days in Tiberias listening to Jewish complaints, he had sent a document and a personal plea to Caesar to reverse this decision.
Gaius also sent dispatches to Philo, reminding him of their previous meetings. He explained his understanding of Caesar's views on divinity and added that while he, Philo, may not agree with Caesar, he should humour him since saving tens of thousands of lives was more important than a day's philosophical purity. He also advised Philo to take advice from Claudius, who was knowledgeable about the workings of the Principate. He then wrote to Claudius and explained in detail what he had done, whom he was hoping would arrive and what the consequences of failure were. He sent the messages then he felt like praying. It was then, he thought wryly to himself, that here, in the hotbed of religious fervour, he had nobody to pray to.
A period of waiting followed. Definitely a problem for those who wished to conquer the world, Gaius thought. Bearing in mind the size of the world, messages from the far side could take a year to get to the capital, at which time the original problem would have passed. For all practical measures, other than the matter of the swearing of allegiance, whatever that really meant, a place far enough away had to be independent. On the other hand, if Rome did not conquer any more, then it had to do something more with what it had, or eventually 'the rest' would catch up militarily, and then Rome really could fall. Maintaining that lead had to involve more than running enormously expensive games for the masses.
Chapter 39
Jerusalem was one of the more distant districts, and currently one of the more troublesome. At present the city was so tense that it was becoming unbearable. All the citizens knew the legion was there for one purpose, to spill blood if required, and despite what the hotheads said, everyone knew that it would be Jewish blood that was spilt. The stares of fear mixed with hatred and religious self-righteousness forced Gaius to keep the legion from the city. The last thing he needed was for insults after one too many cups of wine to be the match to ignite a holocaust.
All the same, it was never desirable that soldiers spend their time doing nothing uncomfortably. Besides the continual drills, Gaius ordered squads of soldiers to march to various Jewish centres, to show the Roman presence, so that each soldier maintained marching fitness. Invariably they did nothing but march around, get hot, and suffer the disgruntled stares of the local population. As a consequence, the soldiers were continually grumbling about the waste of time and effort. This did not worry Gaius: grumbling soldiers meant that the legion was still functional.
It was then that he received a message from Caesar. As he took it his hands were trembling. This message could seal everybody's fate. He broke the seal, opened the page, and stared in disbelief.
Since you are in such a hotbed of religious fervour,
inform me of your views on the Gods. G.
What was all this? He could make a guess, and it gave him a chilling feeling. Fortunately he had received warnings through his correspondence with Claudius. It was then that he remembered the prophecy. Was this the time to deny, or the time to assert? Perhaps both! He took a piece of papyrus and a pen, and after putting down the suitable heading he wrote,
For me, there is no power above Caesar. However, I have had one experience. Following the orders of the divine Tiberius, I was sent to Rhodes, where, at a temple dedicated to Athene, I had a vision in which Athene promised me I would lead a legion that would be the most loyal of all. Legio III awaits your orders. G. Claudius Scaevola.
He then folded the paper, and arranged for it to be sent. He was quite apprehensive throughout the day; somehow he had come to the front of Little Boots' attention, and that was perhaps the most dangerous thing that could happen to him.
It was as much to avoid boredom as anything else that Gaius personally led the next squad out on an excursion. Most of these excursions were simple route marches through this depressingly parched land, but they did have the effect, Gaius noted as time wore on, of reminding the citizens that they were a conquered people. In many ways this was bad, but when they were considering insurrection it was, perhaps, helpful.
Usually nothing much happened, but this time Gaius ran into yet another potential religious flare-up. He led the two centuries to the outskirts of a small village, to see a mob in the central square. Backed against a tree a man was sheltering a young woman, while he was presumably preaching. A stone was thrown from of the mob and this just missed its target. The preacher continued, which obviously antagonized the mob, because another stone was thrown, this time striking the young woman on the arm. Gaius signalled the first century to advance, and he rode quickly ahead towards the mob.
The man seemed to be inviting the mob to throw more stones, saying something about when struck, you should turn the other cheek and let the sinner strike again. The predictable happened; another stone was thrown, striking the girl on the head, and drawing blood.
"I forgive you your sins!" the preacher said. Someone laughed and reached down for another stone.
"He might," Gaius roared, "but I am inclined not to."
The crowd turned to stare at him.
"One of your preachers once said," Gaius continued, "'He who is without sin, cast the first stone.' What more can I say, but add that in my opinion, casting the stone against a defenceless woman is a sin itself, and by so casting you negate any claim to perfection."
"How dare you quote that heretic!" someone yelled.
"Then look at it from my Roman perspective," Gaius said harshly. "I order you not to throw stones. To disobey that order is insurrection, and on this very spot I shall crucify anyone who so disobeys."
"You wouldn't dare!" someone said, although not with any special conviction.
"My next order is to disperse!" Gaius laughed a bitterly cold laugh. "Stick around and see if I dare. And do not worry that I might run out of nails. The legion is well-stocked."
The crowd stared almost belligerently, but then a few at the edges decided discretion was desirable. Before long, only a very few remained and seeing how alone they were, they turned and ran.
The preacher stared at Gaius. No thanks here, Gaius noted to himself. He asked their names, then ordered the preacher be taken to the other side of the square.
"Rebecca," Gaius nodded at the girl, "You stay!" He turned back to the preacher. "I won't hurt her, and my physician will tend to her wounds."
"Please don't worry," Gaius assured her, after the blood was cleaned from her head. "I just want to ask you some questions."
"About what?" came the cautious reply.
"From what I gather, you are what I believe is called a Christian?"
"My uncle and I follow the ways of The Master," came the simple reply.
"Why?"
"Because The Master was the truth and the light."
"Despite the obvious physical danger and, if you don't mind my saying so, the apparent lack of money?"
"Money isn't everything," Rebecca replied.
"It buys you food and clothes," Gaius smiled, "both of which you seem to need."
"The Lord provides."
"Not lavishly."
"Sufficiently."
"Perhaps," Gaius remarked. "Tell me, in your uncle's absence, why are you so convinced in your Messiah?"
"Because he is the truth."
"Yes, but forgive me," Gaius persisted, "there have been several hundred other would-be Messiahs making similar claims. Why do you believe that yours is different from the others?"
"He died to save us from our sins."
"The official version," Gaius pointed out, "is that he died for sedition."
"If you say so."
Gaius stared at her for a moment, then laughed. "It's not what I say, it's what's recorded."
"If it's seditious to tell the truth, to preach peace and forgiveness."
"Answer this truthfully," Gaius said with a quiet smile. "I am just trying to understand."
"You wish to follow the ways of The Master?" came the fascinated response.
"Not in the way you are thinking," Gaius smiled. "You Christians presumably hate us Romans."
"Why?"
"For executing Jesus."
"We could not hate you for that."
"Why not?" Gaius paused, then added, "That is what I don't understand."
"That was ordained," Rebecca replied simply. "The Master forgave his executioners, and if The Master could forgive, I could not do less." She smiled at Gaius' expression, then added, "Since he was the Son of God, he could have prevented that any time he wished."
"Then what was the point?"
"You asked, how was he different from other Messiahs? Well, that is one way."
"Others have died," Gaius remarked, "and others could have claimed they could have avoided it but chose not to. That is hardly proof of divinity."
"And the others did not rise from the dead," Rebecca said.
"You saw that?"
"My Uncle has spoken to James, the Messiah's brother. It happened."
"I see," Gaius said uncertainly. He most certainly did not see.
"No you don't," Rebecca challenged.
"You're so sure?" he asked quizzically. He could hardly deny it, but he was surprised at her certainty.
"I'm sure," she replied with the quiet simplicity of one who knows.
"Because I'm a Roman?"
"Thomas did not see at first," Rebecca said enigmatically, "yet he was there and saw with his own eyes. You have not seen with your own eyes, hence you see not."
"Perhaps I'm simply not suitable," Gaius smiled.
"Everybody is suitable for The Master's house."
"I'm a Roman," Gaius smiled.
"You're a person."
"I'm a soldier," Gaius added. "Your Master was a pacifist."
"The Master was a great teacher, but it is not what you do that matters. It is what your soul does."
"Meaning?"
"Being a soldier is not evil."
"Soldiers kill," Gaius pointed out.
"Today, you saved our lives," Rebecca said.
"So saving the life of a Christian is a compensating good?"
"No!" Rebecca almost shouted. "It is that you saved the life of someone weak," she added, then waved a reassuring hand towards her Uncle, who had started to get up on hearing the shout. She looked at Gaius, then added, "You should save your soul and follow the ways of the Master."
"I don't think so," Gaius said, and smiled as he stood up. "I want you to promise me something."
"I promise."
"You don't even know what it is?"
"The Lord has brought you to me."
"I'm not so sure about that," Gaius shrugged. He reached beneath his cloak and withdrew a small pouch of coins. "I want you to keep these, and buy yourself good food."
"A
s I said, the Lord has provided," Rebecca smiled.
"I think it was merely me," Gaius pointed out.
"But the Lord has touched your heart, and if you follow the ways of the Master, you will be rewarded."
"No," Gaius smiled. "I know there will be no reward. I simply want you to eat better."
"If you know there will be no reward, then like it or not, you are following the ways of the Master. May I leave now?"
"Of course," Gaius said, "and good luck to you."
"And may you walk in the path of light." She got up, and walked away.
Gaius stared at her as she walked away. Whatever else, she was a believer. She was following a very harsh path, yet she was far more content inwardly than he could ever be.
Chapter 40
A few days later, Gaius was drawn towards yet another religious gathering. Another Christian preacher. Gaius listened for some time, then turned to leave. There, under a tree, were several quite undernourished children, with quite deplorably shabby clothes. He found himself reaching for his pouch, counting the children, and he gave them two denarii each, until he reached the last, who had to receive the equivalent in sesterces. They thanked him profusely, and immediately ran off.
"You have come to learn our ways?"
Gaius looked to his left, to see Rebecca. "I was curious," Gaius admitted.
"That was James," Rebecca said, indicating where the preacher had been. "If you wish, I can take you to him."
"I don't think that's necessary," Gaius replied.
"That's true," she smiled, "but sometimes we do things because we want to, not because they're necessary."
"I wouldn't wish to waste his time," Gaius countered.
"The Master never considered any soul a waste of time."
"Possibly not," Gaius replied, "but you really don't want the likes of me."
"Whyever not?"
"Because I think your religion will last," Gaius said, "and I think that because it alone provides hope for the poor. There will always be poor, so there will always be need for you, as long as you don't succumb to the rich."
