Dark Resurrection

by Frederick Preston

  Chapter Five: Callicles of Athens

  Joseph arrived at the marketplace shortly after one, marveling at items trader Callicles had for sale.

  First on his list were windows, of which he purchased ten, six for the house and four to be used as replacements. Borrowing a slave, he carefully loaded them in the wagon, placing woven straw padding between. A pair of iron plows was bought, along with stylish bronze oil lamps, glass tableware, crystal wine goblets, silver dining utensils, articles of clothing, and an exquisitely crafted leather covered down stuffed couch with two matching chairs and table. Sturdy shoes were another item purchased for he, his wife, Jesus, and the Magdalene. Expensive tools were bought for carpentry work and farming. Joseph was spending money like a drunken sailor, buying items he had always wanted but could never have afforded in the past. Having spent 950 denarii by five, next on his list were draft oxen. Several pair were available, offered at the incredibly low price of 50 denarii. Two pair, a set of males and a set of females for breeding fit the bill, Joseph paying Callicles Roman silver for the animals.

  Shortly after dusk, Jesus and consort strolled up while his father sat in the wagon eating spiced barbecued pork, washing it down with a bottle of Gaul’s finest. The oxen were tethered to the wagon, feeding on hay.

  “Hello son,” said Joseph while Jesus inspected the oxen.

  “These are fine animals,” Jesus replied, “How much did you pay for them?”

  “50 denarii for each pair, practically a steal!”

  “I’ll say, I figured they’d be at least 100 a pair.”

  Prefect Gavinal and merchant Callicles walked up while Jesus was inspecting the windows. “Julius!” Gavinal exclaimed, taking Jesus’ hand and shaking it firmly, “Have you met friend Callicles?” The prefect smelled like a brewery, wine heavy on his breath, he and Callicles having continued their drinking during the afternoon.

  “Not yet,” answered Jesus, “Maria and I have just arrived kind Gavinal; this is my father, Julius Chrysippus the elder.”

  “Greetings Julius the elder,” said Gavinal while they shook hands.

  “I’m Callicles,” the merchant announced, he and Jesus shaking hands firmly. For having been drinking all day, the man was surprisingly sober, his reddish complexion, especially on his balding head, revealing that he was a very heavy drinker.

  “You carry fine merchandise,” said Jesus as the others conversed in the background.

  “We try,” Callicles replied, “So Julius, my nephew told me you’re interested in slaves,” slapping his hands together, ready to do business.

  “Yes,” said Jesus, “Four would be nice, six would be ideal.”

  “I have thirty-six available, mostly Nubians, Egyptians and Greeks, but prices are steep,” Callicles replied, waving a hand toward the slave wagons.

  “Name your price sir.”

  “They start at 600 denarii, complete with chain, lock and shackle. My highest priced slaves are 800 each.”

  “Six hundred, let’s see, that times six makes thirty six hundred,” said Jesus.

  “Yes.”

  “Tell you what, I’ll go five hundred each for six in total, that’s three thousand denarii.”

  “Cash?”

  “Cash is all Bacchus Julius Chrysippus ever deals with,” Gavinal interjected.

  “Bacchus, the god of wine,” said Callicles.

  “Epicurus’ favorite god,” Jesus replied, Callicles smiling broadly.

  “Julius was a wine merchant in Etruria, from Vesuvii,” said Gavinal.

  “Volsinii,” Jesus corrected.

  “Whatever Julius, I’m drunk.”

  “That explains the name, do you imbibe Julius? Callicles asked, “I have fine wine from northern Gaul.”

  “Of course, my father and I are very fond of wine.”

  “Excellent, we’ll have some together; you said three thousand cash for six slaves?”

  “Yes.”

  “You have a deal,” Callicles declared, motioning toward the slave wagons, “Shall we pick them out?”

  “Why not,” said Jesus, looking to his father and winking.

  Returning the wink, Joseph and Mary continued to converse with Gavinal while Jesus headed to the slave wagons with the trader. The slaves were contained in several cage wagons, Jesus surveying the lot. Many were Greeks or Egyptians, along with exotic Nubians and a small number of Jews. An attractive young Jewess was also imprisoned, sitting quietly in one corner of a wagon.

  “What are those black slaves in the other cage?” asked Jesus, never having seen Negroes.

  “Nubian barbarians, from south of Egypt.”

  “Like Ethiopians?”

  “Similar, but much more exotic and savage,” said Callicles. “Due to their rarity in Anatolia, my Nubian slaves are 800 each, the males are strong as an ox and make great gladiators.”

  “Their color looks similar to the people of India, but the facial features and hair are much different from anything I’ve ever seen,” Jesus observed, shocked at their appearance.

  “Well, they’re Nubians,” said Callicles, “Tell you what Julius, if you want to buy some, I’ll cut the price to – ”

  “I’ll stick with Greeks,” Jesus replied, still staring at the unfamiliar Nubians.

  “Okay, if you’d like to purchase a group of six, all used to each other, I recently bought a lot from an estate on the Mediterranean coast. They’re all Greeks, all skilled, and one is a teacher. One woman is a midwife; I forget her name, but she’ll definitely come in handy to the owner for delivering children or veterinary work.”

  “Really?” Jesus asked, walking to a separate cage, six slaves within. Inside were four men and two women. Looking at the group, Jesus noted all seemed strong and healthy, with one, obviously the teacher, an older bearded man sitting on a bench. “These slaves look fine to me,” he said, “I’ll take them.”

  “They’re a damn good deal at 500 each,” a frowning Callicles replied, thinking he may have made a mistake offering slaves to Jesus at so low a price. “They were with their former master for over ten years, so there’s no need to break them in, and like I said, each one is skilled.”

  “Sold,” said Jesus, looking to the group.

  “You six, get your asses out here,” Callicles barked, opening the cage door. All obediently exited, the trader chaining them together.

  Glancing to the other cage, Jesus saw the imprisoned Jewess sitting quietly.

  Making eye contact with his Hebrew kinfolk, the vampiric Christ took pity on her. Turning to the trader, he asked, “How much do you want for the Jewess?”

  “Oh yes, look at her, she’s only fourteen years old and a virgin, she’d make a perfect whore wouldn’t she?”

  “I suppose,” said Jesus, looking to the girl.

  “I know,” a chuckling Callicles replied, “Jew broads are great pieces of ass, I’ve laid a slew of ‘em. A friend of mine bought her near Galilee and traded her to me in Damascus for some horses. I reckon eight hundred will do it, she’s gorgeous isn’t she? You know, I’d screw her if I had the time, I’ll bet she’s tight as a knot, but I’m a businessman, and cute pussy’s as common as sestertii.”

  “Make it five hundred and I’ll take her too,” said Jesus, hiding his disgust at the trader’s remarks.

  “Five hundred?”

  “Yes, thirty five hundred for all.”

  “But she’s a fine piece of – ”

  “I don’t care, thirty five hundred denarii or nothing,” said Jesus, “I can go to Rome and buy slaves like this for half the price you’re asking.”

  “How about thirty six fifty? She’s a fine looking girl, and I have to make a profit on – ”

  “I’m sure you're making a profit friend Callicles, thirty-five,” said Jesus, holding firm.

  “Deal,” Callicles replied aft
er a reflective pause, shaking Jesus’ hand firmly, a bit saddened that he had driven so hard a bargain for some of his finest slaves. “You’re going to screw her aren’t you?” he asked, unchaining the Jewess from an iron bar.

  “I have a wife,” said Jesus, “But my father may need a concubine.”

  “That old man? I don’t mean to offend, but he must be sixty.”

  “He’s fifty five and my mother is forty nine, would you believe she’s pregnant?”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, at 34 years of age I’m going to have an infant sibling.”

  “It’s not unheard of, but is very rare; I imagine the midwife I just sold you will come in handy after all,” said Callicles, chaining the Jewess to the other slaves and fastening the free end to one of the cage bars.

  “Bring them to the wagon, then I’ll pay you.”

  “Sure, I have to head to my office to retrieve the titles, I’ll meet you there in a bit.”

  Jesus nodded, walking to the wagon, where his father, Mary and Gavinal were still engaged in conversation. Drusus the Illyrian had dropped by, enjoying a pitcher of strong Egyptian beer, making comments on occasion while constantly ogling the Magdalene. “We have seven slaves father,” Jesus announced, nodding to Drusus.

  “That’s two more than I have!” Gavinal exclaimed, “I guess I’ll have to buy a pair to keep up with you friend Julius!”

  “He still has thirty or so available,” said Jesus, looking to the prefect.

  “What kind?”

  “Mostly Egyptians, Jews and Nubians, I think I bought all the Greeks he had.”

  “I only buy Greeks, maybe next time,” said Gavinal.

  Callicles arrived with the slaves, shackled in chains, following behind him. “Here are the titles,” he said, handing seven parchment documents to Jesus, “Everything’s in order, signed by the prefect of Chrysopolis and his notary. I suppose since Gavinal’s here he’ll be witness for the transfer.”

  “So noted,” Gavinal replied with a nod, looking to Jesus, “Don’t worry Julius, I’ll have Marcus notarize them tomorrow.”

  “Thanks,” Jesus answered.

  “No problem,” said Gavinal, turning to Joseph and the Magdalene.

  “Climb on the roof of the wagon slaves,” Jesus ordered, “From here you’re going to our farm, there I shall inform you of your duties.” Young Demosthenes had been correct; the slaves understood Latin perfectly, and obediently climbed aboard the wagon. Reaching into a leather satchel, Jesus produced 3,500 denarii, handing a heavy bag of Roman silver to the trader.

  Shaking Jesus’ hand, Callicles said with a broad smile, “Thank you Julius, you drive a hard bargain. No matter, I’ve made a hell of a lot of money today, the only others who spent more than you were friends Gavinal and Marcus!”

  “I know Marcus, he’s the town notary,” replied Jesus.

  Noticing the Magdalene, Callicles asked, “Who is this beautiful creature friend?”

  “My wife, Maria Hittica.”

  “She's lovelier than Helen of Troy,” said Callicles, bowing to Mary.

  “Thank you sir,” Mary replied, disdaining the remark, finding Callicles a man that she simply didn’t like.

  “Care to get drunk?” asked Callicles, thirsty for wine.

  Looking to his father, Jesus asked, “Will you run the goods to the farm?”

  “I’m going to need a hand with the oxen and slaves son,” answered Joseph, “Could we come back later?”

  “Hold on a minute folks,” said Callicles. Calling a mercenary, he instructed in Anatolian, “Fetch a slave and have him bring a Gallic wine cask and a brick of cheese here for my friends.”

  Nodding, the mercenary found a slave, who carried the heavy cask to the wagon while the mercenary brought along the twenty-pound brick of cheese. “A present for you and your family Julius,” said the trader, “Fine Gallic wine and sharp cheese from Hispania.”

  “Thank you Callicles,” Jesus answered, again shaking his hand, “You’re a good man, and if you wish to stop by our farm you are welcome. We have cured meat in our smokehouse, fresh water in our well, wine in our cellar and now, seven fine slaves to serve us.”

  “I may visit later,” Callicles replied, making a mental note that wine was available at the Chrysippus farm.

  “He lives just up from Marcus’ place,” said Gavinal, “Right on the Euphrates.”

  "Are you coming back to get drunk with us?” Callicles asked.

  “Definitely,” said Jesus, looking to his father, who nodded eagerly.

  “Stop by Gavinal’s office when you return, that’s where we’ll be,” Callicles advised, Jesus, Joseph and the Magdalene climbing aboard the heavily laden wagon with the oxen in tow. Looking to the prefect, he added as Gavinal smiled, “We’ve had a binge going for the last day or so, and I’ve been working so hard tonight I’m almost sober, can you believe it?”

  “At times sobriety can be a curse, we should see you in a few hours,” Jesus answered, taking the reins and pulling out.

  “I’ll need another twenty gross of roof tiles for the store, Julius the elder bought all I had a few weeks ago,” said Drusus, drunk on Egyptian beer.

  “Okay, Demo will fix you up,” Callicles answered, grabbing a bottle of wine from a slave.