“Alexandra?” Nathan held a small loaf of bread out toward her. Concern furrowed his brows. “Are you unwell?”
She took the loaf and smiled weakly. She hated worrying him. “I just need to eat.” Turning a cold eye on Herod, she said, “I was just telling your friend not to underestimate me. I’m stronger than I look, especially if I feel threatened.” And a threat was just what Herod’s little talk was all about. She took a large bite of bread. The tasteless, glutinous mass swelled in her mouth. She chewed with dogged determination, praying she wouldn’t disgrace herself by vomiting or crying.
Nathan would not be rejoining the army. Not if she had any say in the matter.
***
The next evening the cavernous fortress-palace overflowed with guests. Musicians plucked at stringed instruments and blew into reed horns. But Nathan couldn’t hear a note over the din filling the great hall. The chance to lay eyes on Julius Caesar had brought every man of any consequence from hundreds of miles around to the banquet. Nathan had hated leaving Alexandra behind, but queens were the only women deemed worthy of the coveted invitation.
Antipater had been given a seat of honor on a raised dais. He was seated among richly dressed dignitaries who reclined on cushioned couches, eating and drinking off silver dinnerware. Nathan, Kadar, Herod, and Antipater’s three older sons sat at the back of the hall on wooden benches lining plank tables.
A palace slave set a platter of roast pigeon in front of Nathan. Already full, he pushed the dish in Kadar’s direction. Antipater’s oversized bodyguard grabbed a golden-brown bird by the leg and dropped it on his plate. He pointed a finger toward the head table. “Is Hasmond the one with the long, pinched face?”
Nathan grimaced and nodded. “I hoped I’d never have to see his rat face again.”
The blond-haired giant’s rumbling laugh attracted some stares. “Put some whiskers on him and he would pass for a nervous rodent.” Kadar turned his piercing blue eyes on Nathan. “I heard you were a soldier in Antipater’s army when they chased the rat out of Jerusalem with the help of a Roman army.”
Nathan plucked a red grape from a bowl of fruit. “Herod and I marched beside one of Julius Caesar’s nephews, Mark Antony. Have you heard of him?”
Kadar nodded and took a bite out of the crisp pigeon. “A hard-drinking, hard-fighting soldier.” The giant swallowed and licked his lips. “You must have gotten quite an education.”
Nathan popped the grape into his mouth. Those days were best forgotten. He jerked his thumb toward Herod, who was guzzling down wine as fast as his cup was filled. “Antony and Herod got along famously.”
Kadar grinned. “I bet they did.”
Nathan shrugged. “The coming trial has everyone on edge. And I’ve got the bruises to prove it.” He rubbed his upper arm where Herod had hit him with the flat side of his sword earlier.
Kadar’s white teeth flashed. “You’ve held your own in the arena and racing your horse. I’ll give you that, olive farmer.”
Disgusted by how satisfying he found the compliment, Nathan hid it behind a shrug. “Blame Herod. He runs his mouth until he gets me spitting mad.”
Kadar laughed. “Herod can’t pour enough venom on Hasmond. Do you think the rat can convince Caesar to execute Antipater?”
Nathan looked across the room to the man who had been like a second father. He exhaled heavily. “I wasn’t surprised when Antipater chose Pompey. Pompey headed the first Roman army to enter Jerusalem. The two men defeated Hasmond’s forces and set John Hycranus up as high priest.”
“I heard Antipater agonized over the decision.”
Nathan grabbed up his clay cup. “I’m sure Hasmond was ecstatic when he learned of Pompey’s defeat and death. The rat couldn’t get to Caesar fast enough to accuse Antipater.” Nathan drained the last of his wine. “Antipater’s success in Egypt ought to help his cause.”
Herod swung toward Nathan and joined the conversation. “Egypt? My father won the war for Caesar and Cleopatra.” Herod lifted his mug over his head. “More wine here!”
Nathan plugged his ears. “Yell louder. They might not have heard you in Rome.”
Herod gave him a companionable shake. “You should have been with us. You’d have loved it. First we sneaked through the desert and took the northern gateway of Pelusium. The big battle was even better. Outnumbered two to one and hit from both sides by the enemy, we fought our way out, held the flanks, and earned Caesar’s praise.”
A slave came around with wine. Nathan covered his cup.
Herod knocked Nathan’s hand aside and held the fat goblet up so the slave could fill it. Herod passed the cup back to Nathan and raised his own. Herod looked up and down the table. “Drink a toast with me. To Rome and Caesar.”
Nathan groaned and raised his cup.
“To Rome and Caesar,” the men around him shouted, but he made it into a soft prayer. “Save us from Rome and Caesar.”
Sextus, nephew of Julius Caesar, came strolling up. “Mind if I join you?” Herod and Sextus had struck up a friendship over the past few days.
Herod grinned. “Come to join the fun?”
Sextus stabbed his thumb back toward the head table. “They’ve been talking taxes for the last hour.” He turned his friendly smile on Nathan. “Nice race today. Your horse has real heart. I thought you were going to come back and win.”
“He is a good horse,” Nathan said genially, liking the friendly man.
Herod’s barking laugh turned heads. “Nathan’s horse almost beat the horse you bet on, didn’t it?”
Sextus waggled his brows. “I nearly soiled my tunic at the close finish.”
Herod clapped Nathan on the back. “Tomorrow you better bet on the olive farmer, here. He’s due for a win.”
The corners of Sextus’s mouth turned down. “Actually, I stopped by to tell you your father’s hearing will take place tomorrow.”
The table went silent.
A slave brought another tray of food. Herod knocked the platter aside, sending nuts and olives sailing overhead.
Nathan steeled himself for a long night.
***
Light streamed through the open window, promising a beautiful day ahead. Nathan hated the thought of getting out of bed.
“You’re worried about the hearing?” Alexandra asked sleepily.
He rolled over and pulled his lovely wife into his arms. Her slender back warmed his chest. “It’s that obvious?”
“You usually sleep like the dead.”
They’d been married long enough now for them to know intimate things about each other. The thought gave him pause. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this close to another person,” he said, running his fingers over the sprinkle of freckles midway down her upper arm. Outside of Lex’s mother or a nurse, he was likely the only person who’d ever see or touch the lovely light brown flecks. He brushed a kiss over the soft juncture between her neck and shoulder. “This is going to sound strange, but combat is similar to marriage.”
Lex laughed. “How so?”
“I mean it in a good way. It forms intimate bonds between the participants. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it. The intimacy.”
Lex rolled onto her back and studied him, her eyes wary. “Would you ever consider rejoining the army?”
His muscles tensed. “Why do you ask? Are you having an easier time picturing me as a soldier?”
She swallowed and nodded.
He relished the swordplay and the company of soldiers more than he liked to admit, and had wanted her to come to Syria for this very reason, wanted her to know the kind of man she’d married. So why did her unease prick? His breath left him in a rush. “The truth is, if Antipater’s army only went to battle against foreign foes like Parthia I might sorely regret quitting the army. But I fear our country is facing more internal warfare. Jews killing Jews. I won’t go down that path again.”
Lex’s brow furrowed. “Are matters so dire?”
Lonely despair
struck, the kind he’d experienced as a young man moments before scaling the walls of Jerusalem. “If Antipater is found guilty and crucified, Herod and his brothers will go to war. The Lord alone knows how many people will die then.”
“Do you think they’d go so far?”
“I know they will.” He brushed a knuckle along Lex’s jaw, needing the contact. The idea of disappointing or failing her was intolerable. “I don’t want to frighten you, but you need to be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice in case things go badly.”
He looked heavenward. I will kill whoever I must to protect the wife you gifted to me, Lord. I pray it doesn’t come to that. Please don’t let it come to that.
***
The fortress-like palace housing the governor of Syria served many functions. Today it was a Roman court of law. Seated in the front, Nathan had a perfect view of a servant unfolding Caesar’s curule. The chair’s curved golden legs formed a wide X, upon which a plush cushion was placed. The armless, backless design of the seat was meant to encourage the official using it to finish his business in a timely manner. And a quick end to this matter was just what was called for.
Nathan had never seen Herod so on edge. His friend was ready to jump out of his skin.
Caesar and a small cadre of tribunes entered the hall from a side door and climbed the steps to the top of an octagonal dais. Serious and decisive, Caesar plowed his way through case after case. Nathan could see why the whole world was abuzz over Julius Caesar. Of average height and build, it wasn’t his physical appearance that impressed. What separated him from his fellows was the way he conducted himself. He had a bold demeanor, revealing a man comfortable with welding power on and off the battlefield.
Finally the head tribune delivered the summons the assembled Jews had been waiting for. “The court calls on Antigonus Hasmond.”
Antipater’s accuser stepped forward. Herod growled menacingly. Nathan sat forward, ready to restrain his friend.
“State the charges you bring against Antipater of Idumea,” the tribune ordered.
Caesar’s eyes stayed on a paper he was studying.
Hasmond shuffled from foot to foot, looking unsure how to proceed. “I will wait until Caesar is ready to give the matter his full attention.”
Caesar looked up. Eyes twin black pinpoints, he stared Hasmond down.
Hasmond pulled at the neckline of his tunic. “Ahhh...I...ah...have letters from some of Jerusalem’s most prominent men accusing the Idumean usurper of using oppressive and intimidating tactics against the people.”
Idumean usurper? Nathan shook his head. The insult was a new one to him. The derogatory term referred to Antipater, of course.
Caesar waved Hasmond forward. A tribune collected the letters. The sovereign head of the world’s most powerful nation took the time to examine several of the documents. “I get the gist. Go on.”
Confidence returning, Hasmond spoke louder, “Antipater has attempted to have me killed.”
The audience murmured. Herod leaned forward. “If he tells any more lies about my father. I’ll do more than threaten him.”
“Easy, friend,” Nathan whispered, laying a hand on his arm.
Hasmond ticked his points off on his fingers. “Antipater paid Pompey to poison my father and to have my brother beheaded. Antipater took up arms alongside Pompey to defeat you.”
What could Antipater possibly say to the last charge, which was indisputably true and the most damning? The tension in the court climbed. People shifted in their seats.
Hasmond held a third finger. “Antipater stole the throne of high priest from me and gave it to my uncle.” The rat-faced schemer’s whiny voice grated.
Caesar must have thought so too, for he put his hand up, ending Hasmond’s testimony.
The head tribune’s deep voice echoed through the hall, “Antipater of Idumea, come forward and answer the charges against you.”
Wide-shouldered and solidly built, Antipater marched to the dais like a man without a care in the world. Nathan couldn’t help but smile.
Antipater laid out his case with military precision designed to impress a fellow soldier, ending with a charge of his own “I accuse Antigonus Hasmond with acts of sedition and of inventing lies. I, too, have sworn testimony from leading citizens of Jerusalem.” Antipater handed the documents to a tribune. “May I approach the dais?”
Caesar nodded his approval. Antipater stepped closer and proceeded to roll up his sleeves. Nathan had known the wily old man long enough to know he was up to something. Antipater held both arms out. “Here is my true defense. I shed blood for you.
Caesar set the papers down and examined Antipater’s arms.
Antipater turned and showed his arms to a rapt audience. Red-rimmed scars marred the old man’s tawny skin. “I shed blood for Rome and for Caesar.” Antipater’s loud, clear voice rang through the room. “What more need I do to prove my loyalty?”
Nathan remembered all the reasons he loved and admired Antipater.
Caesar stared back blank-faced. He waved a hand, indicating he had heard enough, then put his head together with his advisors to discuss the case.
Everyone held their breath. Nathan kept an eye on Herod. Fists balled and lips pursed tight, he couldn’t have looked grimmer.
The meeting on the dais broke up. Caesar set one bundle of papers aside in favor of another. He passed a single sheet to the head tribune. The man cleared his throat. “Antipater of Idumea is hereby acquitted of all charges.”
Wild cheers and loud groans filled the room and Caesar smiled for the first time all day.
The head tribune called for quiet. He proceeded to read from a prepared statement, one extolling Antipater’s every virtue. Hasmond twitched each time his foe was praised.
The document was too polished. Nathan wondered if the trial had all been for show, one designed to appease Jerusalem’s leaders. Or had Caesar, who was known for his thoroughness, prepared both a guilty and an innocent verdict, ready to swing one way or the other, depending on what he heard?
The head tribune traded the statement for a more official-looking document. His voice rang out again, “By decree of the Roman Senate, Antipater of Idumea is granted Roman citizenship.”
The incredible news set the audience buzzing. The hum grew louder when Antipater was named governor of Judea and John Hycranus was confirmed as high priest.
Herod clapped Nathan on the back. “This is it, olive farmer. We are on our way.”
Stunned, Nathan wondered where it would all lead.
Herod saw only the good. The family’s fortunes had gone from fair to a future with unlimited possibilities. A highly coveted honor, Roman citizenship brought rank and riches with it.
Nathan saw potential for plenty of trouble. Roman citizenship would serve to sink the family’s reputation to a new low among their fellow Israelites, who regarded all things foreign as suspect. Rebels like Hezekiah and Judas would use the news to stir up more unrest in Galilee. The Pharisees, who could rile up the people faster than anyone, would spew volcanic-worthy fury upon learning Rome meant to interfere in religious matters, especially on an issue as vital as who would sit as high priest.
The head tribune went on, “In honor of the Jewish army who fought valiantly in Egypt, Julius Caesar grants special status to the province of Judea.”
All the Jews present cheered.
Nathan’s worries dissolved. Favored nation status meant taxes would be greatly reduced. And no taxes would be levied for the sabbatical years when the Law decreed the fields must lay fallow. On the almost-too-good-to-be-true-list, all tribute collected would go to John Hycranus and not Rome. Jewish youths would not be forced to serve in the army. And the Jewish people would not have to feed and quarter Roman troops.
Soundly defeated, Hasmond slunk away.
Last on the official agenda came a list of political appointments. The most notable one named Julius Caesar’s nephew Sextus Caesar as the next governor of Syria.
&nb
sp; Court was dismissed. Herod and Nathan found Sextus and offered him their congratulations.
Pleasantries exchanged, Sextus said, “Herod, my assistance is yours for the asking.”
Herod bowed respectfully. “I will pass your offer on to my father.”
Sextus turned his sharp gaze on Nathan. “The same goes for you, olive farmer.”
Nathan smiled. “You know what I want.”
Sextus grinned. “Use of my private bath.” They all laughed. Nathan had been pestering Herod for a few hours’ use of the governor’s personal bath. Nathan wanted Lex to experience the luxury of a real Roman bath.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Sextus promised.
A call for order claimed their attention. Antipater stood atop the dais. “Caesar has been gracious enough to accept my proposal for dividing Judea into four districts, each of which will be administered by one of my four sons. My youngest son, Herod, is hereby named governor of Galilee. My son, Phasael—”
“Damnation,” Herod said through gritted teeth.
Nathan leaned closer to his friend. “I thought you’d be overjoyed.” He’d listened to Herod talk for hours about the great things he would do once he got the chance to hold an important office.
“My skills should be put to use in Jerusalem and not the God-forsaken backcountry. Galilee doesn’t own one respectable fortress. It will take months to bring the fortifications up to half standards.”
Nathan winced. The new governor of Galilee was likely to be busy and distracted for the foreseeable future, leaving him on his own in his quest to apprehend Judas the Zealot.
CHAPTER 14
The colorful pennants ringing the circular amphitheater snapped and waved overhead. Succulent smells of roasting meats and nuts competed with the smell of freshly spilled blood, the latter courtesy of the one-hundred plus animals slaughtered for sport at the start of the day’s entertainment.
Foreign as all this was to Alexandra, nothing compared to the sight of Nathan clothed in a short-sleeved, mid-thigh length roman-style tunic. His muscled arms and thick legs rivaled those of the marble statuary of the pagan gods dotting the city.
The Warrior (The Herod Chronicles Book 1) Page 13
