The Kingdom and the Crown

by Gerald N. Lund

  She gasped, eyes flying wide open as Simeon stepped into the room. For several seconds she stood there gaping, heart pounding like a great hammer inside her chest, her knees nearly buckling as the relief hit her like a torrent. “Simeon?” She took a step forward, her mind still not believing what her eyes were telling it.

  “I’m sorry I frightened you. I thought you were in your bedroom asleep. I called out a couple of times.”

  “But how—” She glanced at the open door, still dazed and bewildered.

  “I have a rope. I came down from the roof.” He grinned ruefully at her. “If you put down that poker, maybe we can talk.”

  Only then did Miriam realize that she still held the iron weapon tightly in her grip. She slowly lowered it to her side. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

  “Where is Livia?”

  Miriam shook off the shock. “Asleep.” She gestured with her free hand.

  He started back toward the open door to her room. “Let’s talk in here,” he whispered. “I don’t dare stay very long. Those guards of yours are very thorough.”

  She nodded, still half numb. She put the poker back in its holder, went to the couch and picked up the lamp, then followed him inside the bedroom. He shut the door softly behind her.

  She set the lamp on her dressing table, then turned. “I can’t believe it. You’re here.”

  He smiled, but his eyes were somewhat hooded. “Yes. We’re here. We’ve been here two days now.”

  “We?”

  “Ezra’s with me.”

  She let out a long breath and half-closed her eyes. “I knew you would come.”

  “We’re here to help you, Miriam, but I have to ask you some questions first.”

  “Two days?” It was like her mind was moving at half-speed. The joy in her was pushing every other thought aside.

  “Yes. We’ve been watching you, trying to find out what is going on. Ezra tried to get past the guards this afternoon. He told them he was your cousin, but like I say, your two watchdogs are pretty thorough.” He shook his head. “Haven’t you heard? Ya’abin is dead.”

  “Dead?”

  “Yes. We finally captured him and his band about three months ago. Pilate sold most of them off into slavery, but he had Ya’abin and three or four of his chief lieutenants executed almost immediately. I learned that just before we left.”

  “And you and Yehuda are all right? You’re free now?”

  “Yes.”

  She moved to the bed and sank down on it to steady the trembling in her legs. “I didn’t know. We haven’t heard anything.” Then her head raised. “So it is safe to go back now?”

  There was a curt nod. “Yes. Is that what you want?”

  Something in his voice made her hesitate. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Is it true, then?” he demanded.

  “Is what true?”

  “That you and Marcus are engaged to be married.” It came out cool and clipped.

  It felt like she had just been struck a blow. “You know about that?” she asked softly.

  “Only because Marcus flung it in my face,” he said sarcastically. “He was crowing about it like the whole world knew.”

  “I—”

  “So is it true?”

  “You think I would do that?” she whispered. The joy in her was dashed completely.

  “What other conclusion is there?” he shot right back. “In the only letter we ever got from you, it was Marcus this and Marcus that. Rome is so wonderful. Rome is so fascinating. The Didius family have been wonderful hosts.”

  She looked down at her hands, clasping them tightly together.

  “Well?” He walked over and stood before her. “Why didn’t you write, Miriam? We were all worried sick about you. Lilly and Ezra wrote. My mother wrote. Couldn’t you have at least answered? Or were you afraid that you would be a disappointment to all of us?”

  “So you never got my letter?”

  That stopped him. “What letter?”

  “About two months ago. We—” She shook her head, too hurt to want to explain. “It doesn’t matter.” Her voice was so low he barely heard her.

  “How could you do this, Miriam?” he cried, throwing up his hands. “How could you turn your back on everything that happened with Jesus? I know your father probably set the whole betrothal up, but don’t you realize that when we were baptized, we made a covenant with Jesus to always be faithful to him? To follow him no matter what circumstances confront us?”

  “No,” she said coldly, “I didn’t realize that, Simeon. Thank you for reminding me.”

  He dropped to a crouch before her so he could look straight into her eyes. His voice was pleading. “Ezra and I came to find out what is going on, Miriam. To help you.” There was a sigh of frustration. “Assuming you really want to be helped.”

  She looked up, her eyes flashing. “Sorry to frustrate such noble gallantry.” Her anger took over now. “We don’t need your help.”

  “So is it true? You still haven’t answered my question.”

  She was fighting back tears. She would not let him see her weakness. “Is that really what you think?” she asked again.

  “What am I supposed to think, Miriam! Why won’t you just answer me? Are you going to marry Marcus or not?”

  She stood, facing him squarely. She felt completely desolate inside. The euphoria she had felt when she saw who it was now tasted like bile in her mouth. “It sounds to me like you already have your answers, Simeon.”

  He stared at her. “And that’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

  “I think everything has been said that needs to be said.” She was like stone. “Good-bye, Simeon. I am very sorry that you came this far for nothing.” She bit her lip. “Tell Ezra I shall write to Lilly as soon as possible.”

  For a moment, she thought he was going to take her by the shoulders and shake her like a child, but then his mouth clamped shut and he spun away. He stalked to the window and stepped out onto the balcony. He turned and looked at her once more. His mouth opened; then he shook his head and turned away, reaching for the rope that hung down from the roof.

  “Good-bye, Simeon,” she murmured. “Give my love to your family.”

  III

  27 September, a.d. 31

  When Livia opened the door to the building and stepped outside, the two men there came quickly to attention. Their night guards had been replaced with the regular day watchers, a routine Mordechai had established. She nodded to them without speaking and shut the door behind her.

  “Where are the others?” the big man said. This was the one Miriam called Cain. He was large and completely bald. His manner was always very cool and professional, almost curt.

  “Miriam didn’t sleep well last night. She’s not going to go out until later. I have to go to the market and get some food.”

  “What about your brother?”

  “He’ll stay and get Miriam some breakfast when she wakes up.” That wasn’t completely true. Miriam always worked with the two of them in fixing the meals, but these two men would expect a subservient role for Drusus in this household.

  As she pushed past them, the two of them conferred quickly. In a moment, Livia heard heavy footsteps behind her. Cain was following after her. Abel would stay back to make sure that no one else left without an escort.

  She ignored the man as she walked swiftly down the street and onto the main thoroughfare that led to the vegetable market. O Lord, please let Simeon still be watching.

  Ten minutes later, as she selected carrots and potatoes from the back of a small cart, she realized someone was standing beside her. “Shalom, Livia.”

  Though she was hoping he would appear, and half expected it, she still jumped a little. She glanced at the figure beside her, then smiled faintly. “Shalom, Simeon.”

  “I need to talk with you.”

  She glanced quickly in the other direction. Cain had already seen the exchange and had started moving toward he
r. “Play along with me,” she said quickly, her voice low.

  Simeon looked startled. “Why?”

  They had been speaking in Aramaic. Now Livia switched to Latin. “I can’t believe this!” she exclaimed loudly. “Diomedes! What are you doing here in Rome?”

  “What?” Simeon said, totally bewildered.

  Suddenly Livia’s guard pushed between them. “Who is this?” he demanded, glaring at Livia.

  For a moment, she acted surprised at the interruption; then her face darkened. “This is someone I knew many years ago in Alexandria. Please excuse us.” She stepped around him to look at Simeon again. “Tell me, Diomedes,” she said, “are your parents still living?”

  “They are,” he said, catching on to what she was doing, though he wasn’t sure why. “And what of your mother and father? I haven’t heard anything about your family for many years.”

  Cain shouldered his way between them again. “Let me see into your bag,” he commanded Livia.

  Livia sighed wearily and held out the woven bag she used to carry her purchases. He pulled out two or three onions, rummaged around in the bottom for a moment, then dropped them back again. “Open the folds of your stola.”

  Livia looked annoyed, but complied. She turned out any part of her dress that might conceal something.

  His face still as threatening as a storm cloud, the bald man swung around to Simeon. “You do the same,” he said.

  “What is this?”

  “Just do it, Diomedes,” Livia said wearily. “He is a very suspicious man.”

  Simeon complied, opening the folds of his tunic to show that he was hiding nothing.

  “All right,” the man said, “but I’ll be watching.” He glared at Simeon. “Stay at least three steps back from her at all times so that I can see you clearly. Do not try to exchange anything.”

  He moved away, stopping about ten or fifteen paces back, still watching them very closely.

  “What was that all about?” Simeon asked, switching back to Aramaic.

  “Please stay clear of me as he said, Simeon. Don’t give him any reason to think we are more than old friends.” Then before Simeon could answer, she said more loudly, again in Latin. “This is a great surprise, Diomedes. Come. Tell me all about your family.”

  She pointed toward the nearest building. “Let’s go over there where he can see us clearly. Then maybe he’ll leave us alone for a few minutes.” She moved over to the steps and sat down. Simeon followed, careful to sit well clear of her.

  “What is going on, Livia? What was he looking for? Did he think I might hurt you?”

  “He was looking for letters, either from me to you, or the other way around.”

  “But—” Then his jaw dropped slightly as the realization of what she was saying hit him. “So they’re not protecting you? They’re actually guarding you?”

  She gave him a strange look. “Miriam said you told her that Ezra tried to come to us yesterday and was stopped by the guards. Why does this surprise you?”

  He was clearly reeling a little with this discovery. “Because we just assumed they were men hired by Miriam or her father because of Moshe Ya’abin. To protect you.” Then he paled, looking sick. “I thought that seemed a little strange, this far away from Ya’abin’s reach. So you are being confined? And that man is making sure you don’t send out any letters?”

  “Or receive them,” she said, forcing a bright smile for Cain’s benefit as she talked. “Mordechai’s instructions to these escorts, as they call themselves, were very strict. We can have no communication in or out.”

  Simeon raised a hand and passed it across his eyes. The distress was evident now.

  “Don’t do that!” Livia hissed. “Look happy. Talk to me. We’re pleased to see each other after so many years.”

  Simeon did so, tipping back his head and laughing for a moment. It sounded forced and hollow. He was clearly dazed. “Then . . . ”

  “Yes, Simeon. We are under virtual house arrest. We have been since Miriam’s father left for Judea four months ago. We have received no letters in that time and can send none out. When we tried, we were threatened with serious consequences.”

  He was dumbfounded. “But why didn’t Miriam tell me that last night?”

  She gave him a sharp look. “The way she put it, you were not very open to anything she had to say.”

  “But—”

  “Simeon, Miriam acted foolishly last night. She admits that now. But you hurt her terribly. You jumped to unwarranted conclusions. You questioned her integrity. You accused her of turning her back on Jesus—which couldn’t be further from the truth. You wouldn’t listen.” Then she smiled, not only for Cain’s benefit, but to soften her words. “Did I miss anything?”

  He groaned softly. “Oh, Livia. No wonder. What have I done?”

  “Listen to me, Simeon.” She was very serious. “Our time is short. That man over there won’t let us speak for very long. Miriam is not going to marry Marcus, and never had any intention of doing so. Mordechai and Marcus arranged it all. Mordechai didn’t even tell Miriam what he had done until much later. When he did finally tell her, they had a terrible fight. Miriam told him about Jesus, about us being baptized. Mordechai was livid. He threatened to cut her off, to disinherit her, if she didn’t renounce all of it. Miriam refused, of course, and told him we were going to leave. She said we would make our own way back to Judea.”

  He winced. “And that’s when he put you under confinement?”

  “Yes. He was in a towering rage, as you can imagine. At one point Miriam actually thought he was going to strike her. The next morning Mordechai was gone and we had guards outside our door. We’ve been under guard twenty-four hours a day ever since.”

  He shook his head, each new revelation hitting him like a battering ram.

  “We learned that Mordechai has seized all of Miriam’s funds, so she has no money. All mail in and out was forbidden. When we tried to smuggle one out, we were stopped. Over two months ago, Miriam was so desperate she even tried to convince Marcus’s mother to send off a letter Miriam had written to Lilly. It explained all of this. Evidently, it never reached Lilly.”

  Simeon felt physically ill. He shook his head. “We heard nothing. Ezra and I finally decided to come to Rome to find out what was going on. We—I!—thought you hadn’t written because of the marriage, that Miriam was too embarrassed to tell us she was staying here.” He blew out his breath. “I am such a fool!”

  Livia cocked her head. “You weren’t thinking I would contradict that, were you?” Then she forced a merry laugh. “Our friend is looking very suspicious, Simeon. We need to cheer up a little.”

  Simeon leaned back against the stone steps, as if relaxing. He smiled as happily as he could, casually looking in the man’s direction. Livia was right. The man’s expression was close to open hostility. Even as Simeon looked at him, the man started edging towards them.

  “There’s something else, Simeon.” Livia was rushing the words now. “Did you know that it was Miriam who convinced Pilate to let you and Yehuda go free?”

  He visibly jerked. “Ezra told us that you all had fasted and prayed about it.”

  “We did, but after Ezra and Lilly went on to Joppa, we learned that Pilate planned to torture you for the name of the person who betrayed them at the Joknean Pass.”

  He looked directly at her. “I would never have given them Miriam’s name.”

  “She knew that, but she couldn’t bear the thought of you facing the torture. She tried to convince both Marcus and Pilate to let you go because of what you had done for her and her father in Samaria. Pilate actually got a little impatient with her. That’s when Miriam came up with the idea for the exchange—you, Yehuda, and your two friends for Ya’abin and his band. It was brilliant. It was the only thing that could have changed Pilate’s mind.”

  “Father told me that Miriam had been part of getting us freed, but I had no idea,” he said softly.

  “She convinced
her father to side with her in presenting the idea to Pilate. Do you know how?”

  He shook his head.

  “She told Mordechai that she was the one who betrayed the plan to you. That if you ever were forced to give up the name, it would be hers that you spoke.”

  He jerked forward. “She didn’t!”

  “Yes. Mordechai knows. Is it any wonder that he is so angry with her? I think the betrothal to Marcus is partly his way of punishing her. From his point of view, this was the ultimate betrayal.”

  Simeon looked away. Finally he turned back. “But if all of this is going on, why would she say you don’t need our help?”

  “She said that?” That was something Miriam had not told her this morning. She shook her head. “If it is any consolation, she called herself childish and petty.”

  “It was my fault, not hers.” He was feeling very ashamed about what had happened.

  Livia drew in a sharp breath. “Our man is coming back. We aren’t acting like two childhood friends. Too grim, I think.”

  Simeon didn’t turn. “Then listen carefully, Livia.” He still spoke in Aramaic. He hoped that the guard would think they were speaking in Egyptian in case he overheard them. “Knowing you are being carefully guarded changes everything. It may take awhile for us to figure out how to do this, but we will be back. We’ll get you out of here.”

  “I knew you would.” Then she remembered something. “There are three of us. We found my brother Drusus. He’s living with us.”

  Simeon nodded. “We saw the young man with you and wondered who he was.” He thought for a moment. “No problem. We can take three.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. The bald man was moving closer, but slowly, still peering at the two of them. “One other thing. Will you not tell Miriam about today?”

  That took her by surprise. “But why?”

  “Tell her you saw me. That we’re going to help. And by the way, you will all have to be very careful now. Act natural. You can’t let them know that anything has changed. That will be critical. But don’t tell her that you told me all of this.”

  She nodded slowly, not sure she understood why.

  “She’ll think the only reason I came back is because you told me all of this. I was coming back anyway, to tell her I am sorry.”