by Warren Cain
The Order of the Redeemed
Warren Cain
ISBN: 978-1-54396-702-9,
© 2019. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Epilogue
Prologue
Heat waves appeared in the distance across the fields outside the town of Jericho as Thomas made his way to the moderate-sized home he and Zacchaeus had been working on for nearly a month now. Thomas was surprised to see Zacchaeus already putting mud into the brick forms to be used for the home.
“How long have you been here?” the large man asked, realizing Zacchaeus must have been well into his second hour of work by the amount of bricks he had already formed.
“I can’t wait on you all day, Thomas. We may never get all the work done if we started as late as you,” replied Zacchaeus as he stretched his small but muscular-framed body to relieve the soreness he was feeling from several days of forming the mud bricks. His blue eyes seemed to glow as he welcomed his friend.
“Some of us don’t have a wife that requires the kind of money I put out for your wages.”
“I think it would be fairer to say that some of us are unable to attract such a woman who would be willing to marry us, and I don’t want to hear how you can’t afford a woman because you pay me too much when the truth is I make you money. How was your evening, Thomas?” he asked, turning the conversation from the usual morning ritual of seeing who could win in a verbal combat.
“Not too bad. I visited my mother last night.”
“Didn’t want to cook?”
Thomas smiled. “How late did you work last night? We didn’t have near this much done.”
“Until dark. I could use the extra money.”
“Extra money is one thing. You didn’t have time for a decent night’s sleep. What do you want to work so many hours for?”
“We want to build a bigger house. We want to build one from stone,” mumbled Zacchaeus, slightly slumping his shoulders.
Thomas breathed in through his nostrils as though he were a dragon, preparing his next breath to expel fire. “You mean SHE wants to. Do you know how much a stone house will cost you? By the time you pay the stone masons you could have built three mud brick houses yourself,” scolded Thomas.
Zacchaeus stood with his head held down, his previously glowing eyes dimmed by the truth Thomas had spoken.
“I don’t mean to sound hateful, but I just can’t stand to see you treated so poorly. You’re my friend, Zacchaeus. Does she try this hard to make you happy? You spend every waking moment working, trying to make enough to satisfy her endless wants.”
Zacchaeus hesitated for a second as he fought back the urge to vocally agree with Thomas. He straightened up, trying to look as though he wasn’t tired from the long days he had spent working to make enough money to keep Ezra satisfied.
“Me and Ezra have a good relationship,” he lied.
The words didn’t sound convincing, and he knew it.
Thomas only pursed his lips.
“We need to get back to work. There’s a day’s worth of bricks that are solid enough to be laid,” Zacchaeus murmured, turning his back to Thomas.
I didn’t mean to upset you, thought Thomas, but you deserve better than this.
* * *
The walk home from work through the dimly lit street gave Zacchaeus time to contemplate the long days he had been working and the amount of truth he had heard in Thomas’s words. He just doesn’t understand that it would be nice to have a good house. He’s never had more than a small house his whole life.
He shook his head as he realized the argument was only to convince himself, and he wasn’t believing a word of it. I’ve never had a decent house. Probably because I don’t make enough money to buy one, but how do I convince Ezra of that?
The thought occurred to him as his current house came into view. He hesitated to admire the one-room home sitting on a growing mound created by the mud brick houses that had previously collapsed on which their house had been replaced.
I knew this house wouldn’t last forever. It was already fifteen years old. Hard to get much more than thirty out of mud brick. With my skills I could build her a home from mud brick that would be as large as any home in Jericho.
Zacchaeus looked at the large cedar door they had purchased to be used on the new house when it was built. He thought of the table and chairs in the middle of the room that were built for a much bigger home and took up any living space they had.
Everything’s too big for our little house. Every time she buys something it’s so we can have it in our new house but it doesn’t fit the one we have and it doesn’t fit any that we can afford.
Zacchaeus opened the door to find Ezra sitting at the large table with a man Zacchaeus knew well as James, the regional tax collector for the Jericho area.
“Did I fail to pay you enough taxes?” asked Zacchaeus sarcastically.
Ezra stood.
“Zacchaeus,” she scolded. Her dark eyes glared from underneath her harshly wrinkled brow. “I’ve asked James to come here to discuss you working under him as a tax collector.”
Zacchaeus looked uneasily at James. The thought of being a tax collector caused him to shiver and he was sure the other two in the r
oom caught the movement.
James stood.
“I’m going to put a bid in on the region to the east. I have word that with the offer I plan to make I should be placed in charge of that region also. I need some tax collectors to work for me. I’m short the way it is, and if I get the east region I’m going to need someone who lives in Jericho to look after it when I’m not in the area. Ezra tells me you would be good for the job.”
When Zacchaeus failed to respond, or even move, James continued.
“It pays three times what you’re making now and a little more if you charge extra.”
James and Ezra shared a look that, along with the comment, caused them to laugh almost uncontrollably as though they were both in on some joke. Zacchaeus stood looking at them, not sure if the joke was about charging extra or if it was about his wages.
Neither one seems funny.
“I need some time to think about it,” muttered Zacchaeus, tired from a long week of hard work and lacking the willpower to argue at the moment about his employment as a tax collector.
“I’m going to need an answer by next week,” said James as he showed himself to the door. “It means a lot more money.”
The door closed as the well-dressed James exited the house.
Zacchaeus sat down at the table, placing his arms in a folded position on the table and slumping his shoulders.
“What’s wrong with you?” Ezra shouted with irritation as she slowly moved towards him as though she were a lioness about to attack her prey.
The tone caused Zacchaeus to slide down in his chair as if it would protect him from the oncoming assault.
“You’re never going to make enough money to build us a house we can be proud of. Do you want to work as a stupid house builder your whole life? STUPID. That’s what building houses is.”
Zacchaeus stood abruptly. “IT’S NOT STUPID. I like what I do. We could afford it if we didn’t have to build it out of stone.” His voice rose. “I could build you a large house out of mud brick, one of the largest in Jericho. I have the skill for it. I’m sure Thomas would help me.”
Ezra backed up from the harshness in his tone. In all the years they had been married, she had always been able to force him to do what she wanted with intimidation. “I’m sorry, Zacchaeus,” she whispered, realizing she wasn’t going to intimidate him into what she perceived to be a more appropriate job for HER husband. “I didn’t mean to say what you did was stupid. It’s just that you work so hard and you deserve to make more.”
She put her hand gently on his shoulder and moved towards him until she was rubbing against him.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to make more money so we can have a nicer house? Don’t you want to take the tax collector job? For us?” She forced the frown from her forehead and replaced it with what she hoped would pass as a look that indicated she was feeling attracted to him. The feelings he held for her swept over him from the long overdue attention she was now showing him.
“I’ll think about.”
* * *
Zacchaeus made his way through the dusty streets towards the road that led from Jericho to Jerusalem.
“Looks like a good day,” remarked Zacchaeus to the two Roman soldiers assigned to ensure the Roman taxation powers given to Zacchaeus remained intact. The well-disciplined pair gave no indication to Zacchaeus’s comment as they kept perfect step with each other, as though they operated as one unit.
Zacchaeus shook his head slightly, failing to understand why the soldiers would not acknowledge any of his attempts at conversation. The trio made their way to the gateway on the edge of town, which marked the road that led to the marketplace.
“Sounds like the crowds are unruly today.”
The guards made no comment concerning the clearly louder than normal crowd.
Zacchaeus allowed the soldiers to move in front of him. The above-average height, long spear, and sheathed sword combined with the confidence of the well-trained pair caused the crowd to step out of the way towards the buildings, allowing the soldiers and Zacchaeus the luxury of walking down the center of the street without the inconvenience of pushing through the large crowd.
“The numbers are right. Your toll adds up to six pieces.”
Zacchaeus knew the voice belonged to Simeon, his newest and most promising apprentice.
Zacchaeus was amazed he took so well to overcharging. It had taken him two years before the pressure from Ezra and the other tax collectors allowed him to take more taxes from people than the specified amount. I might as well, he justified to himself. They accuse me of it anyway.
The first few times caused him lost nights of sleep, but gradually the overtaxing became easier and necessary to pay for the extra luxuries he became accustomed to. “You’re wrong about the numbers—my brother passed through here two days ago with the same amount of stock and was only charged four pieces,” exclaimed the man.
“What seems to be the trouble, Simeon?” asked Zacchaeus, assessing that the muscular man trying to pass through the gate had an advantage by knowing the tax amount from only two days ago.
“This man doesn’t wish to pay his tax. He’s accusing me of overtaxing him.”
Zacchaeus walked to the gate. The man stood a head taller than him, and his dark tan and muscular build would have been intimidating were it not for the two soldiers flanking Zacchaeus.
“What’s your name?” questioned Zacchaeus in a calm voice.
Anger was replaced with an inquisitive look as the question had its desired effect.
“Jerod.”
“What seems to be the problem, Jerod?”
A wave of relief passed over Simeon’s face as the more experienced tax collector diffused the out-of-control situation.
“My brother passed through here two days ago and was charged four pieces for the same amount of stock. Now I’m being told I must pay six pieces.”
“That’s right,” expressed Zacchaeus with no hesitation. “The extra tax is new. It’s a tax for new wells in the region.”
Simeon was impressed at how smoothly Zacchaeus made up an answer that sounded so believable. The crowd, who only seconds before Zacchaeus showed up were ready to force their way through the gate, now, within the few short seconds to ponder the decision, the explanation from Zacchaeus, and the presence of the two soldiers, stood quietly behind Jerod. The mood shifted as the people looked to their leader, waiting for his next move. They had stood ready to defy the injustice, feeling as though they were about to protest for all the times they had been overtaxed. Now, with the arrival of Zacchaeus and his authoritative certainty, it seemed their leader, Jerod, would offer little or no resistance.
Zacchaeus remained quiet, understanding from the look on Jerod’s face that he only needed a few more seconds to think about the situation before he would decide it wasn’t worth the trouble and pay the six pieces.
“Pay the six pieces,” demanded Simeon, stepping up to the gate with a look of arrogance as he now felt the argument he was losing only a minute before had turned in his favor.
No, thought Zacchaeus as he closed his eyes, certain that such a haughty demand would put Jerod on the defensive.
“How can you be so dishonest?” The words spilled from Jerod’s mouth like venom from a cobra. The hate in his voice stirred the crowd back to the mob twitchiness Zacchaeus had just calmed them from.
The crowd waited for Zacchaeus to make his move. He had been called dishonest in front of them, and Zacchaeus knew his next move would either diffuse the crowd or cause them to riot.
There’s only one choice.
Zacchaeus made eye contact with the soldier in charge. It was one of the few times since the soldier had been with him that Zacchaeus could remember him making eye contact. The soldier knew he would be needed to take care of this crowd. It was his chance to enforce Rome’s ultimate authority, and
he was ready to jump at this opportunity he considered an honor. A nod from Zacchaeus, and the two soldiers stepped forward and grabbed Jerod, allowing him no room for retaliation.
“No!” shouted Jerod, suddenly losing the courage he held only minutes before. “I’ll pay.”
The crowd stood quiet and afraid as they watched Jerod being beaten by the two soldiers.
* * *
Zacchaeus stopped halfway up the small road that took him around Jericho and to the backside of his home to avoid the shepherds that would be making their way to the well. He stopped to admire his recently built stone house that was by far the finest home in Jericho.
Ahhh. Good to be home, and what a fine home you are. A sense of pride overtook him as he viewed the large structure. His trip to Jerusalem had lasted only three days instead of the expected four, but he was glad to make it home to sleep in his own bed.
Zacchaeus opened the back door quietly and tiptoed into the house, hoping to surprise Ezra at his early arrival. A smile crossed his face as he noticed the large wooden table that now had a house more appropriate for its size. He tiptoed down the hallway towards the bedroom in an almost childlike manner.
His heart stopped for an instant as he approached the entrance to their stately bedroom. She lay in bed, her eyes closed with a look of ecstasy on her face. If her eyes had been opened, she would have seen him come into the room. He had never seen her face look so happy as her world of lies she had built around him crashed down. The man who was lying on top of his wife seemed oblivious to his presence. The thought of all he had done to try to make her happy, leaving his job with Thomas, becoming a tax collector, building this house for her. That was the betrayal. He worked so hard to make her happy—to remove that scowl on her face every time he was near her. Now, when she was unaware of his presence, the scowl was no longer there.
It’s me that she despises. The thought seemed to come from somewhere deep in his mind as though it had always been there—it only needed to come to the surface and be put to words.
Ezra opened her eyes, and her expression changed to a look of horror.
“No!” She pushed the man off of her.
James, thought Zacchaeus as he recognized his boss.
Zacchaeus turned and walked down the hallway, unable to put anything he was feeling into words. As he sat down at the table he could hear whispered murmurs coming from the bedroom.
