by Tom Pollack
“Then I will see Mother again? If I’ll be with her, I am not afraid of death,” Quintus declared.
“Yes, but you have many years to go before that, little man. Now lie down and get your rest. We have a big day tomorrow.”
As he withdrew to the atrium, Cain marveled at his son’s courage. The prospect that his son’s life would be all too brief stood in stark contrast to his own longevity, and his ambivalence about it.
While Quintus slept during the late afternoon, Cain sent for the doctor who headed the team attending on his son.
“What is your prognosis, Junius?” he asked the physician, a trim fifty-year-old with close-cropped, slightly graying hair.
“The boy’s physical condition has deteriorated significantly since you left, sir,” the doctor answered. “It is possible that other organs besides the lungs have been affected. For two months now, his legs have not been able to support him. But his mind is vibrant. If anything, his interest in his studies has intensified.”
“And how do you think he will be six months from now?”
“His disease consumes bodily strength,” the doctor replied. “But the link between emotions—mind and spirit—and physical health should never be underestimated. Your son has tremendous willpower, sir. All I can say for sure is that his condition is chronic, not critical.”
***
Safeguarding his son’s happiness now became the guiding force of Cain’s existence. The doctor’s remark about Quintus’s emotional state lingered in his mind. He decided to do everything possible to give the boy a full and satisfying life, whatever its duration.
Father and son haunted the Circus and the stables, with Quintus taking more and more of an interest in the mechanics and nuances of horse training. Cain gave the boy Xenophon’s manual on horsemanship, written in Greek nearly four centuries before. Quintus absorbed every detail, amazing his father with observations on everything from how to break a colt to such esoteric issues as whether a colt should be fed with his halter on or off.
As the months slipped by, Cain received regular reports from Carthage concerning his blown-glass factory and from Herculaneum about his villa and repository. He limited his visits to Herculaneum, since without a hippodrome, Quintus found the place boring. When he felt his presence there was required, however, he left his son in the charge of Scorpus, whose relationship with the boy was now that of a mentor. Quintus accompanied the chariot driver to the horse sales and delighted in helping select new stallions for the Greens.
One day, at Cain’s prompting, Scorpus arranged for Quintus to take his own chariot ride—this time in one of the larger, ceremonial chariots used for the great processions of owners and drivers that were arranged two or three times every season. With the track clear of other chariots in the early morning, Scorpus glanced at Cain, who nodded approvingly. Scorpus then handed the reins to the boy.
“Go ahead, Quintus, urge them into a trot,” the driver said as Cain beamed.
Delighted, Quintus snapped the reins gently and the chariot accelerated. As they rounded the second turn, the boy exclaimed, “Just wait, Scorpus. In a few years I will challenge you to a race!”
Clapping his driver on the shoulder, Cain chimed in jovially, “You had better keep your skills sharp for that day!” Inwardly, however, he painfully contemplated the very different future his son faced.
***
Because Quintus’s condition seemed stable, Cain was able to travel on business each year. But here again he strove to make the trips as brief as possible, in order to maximize the time he could spend with his son. In AD 32, construction delays with the observatory in Herculaneum forced him to rearrange his schedule. The metal gears for the device that opened the oculus in the dome were not manufactured as specified. Cain, therefore, postponed his scheduled departure and endeavored to rectify the problems while the sailing season slipped by.
Then, late that autumn, when Quintus was going on twelve, Cain received a message from Carthage. As a result of a small civil uprising, there had been some light damage to the factory’s warehouses. Although a sailing voyage could be highly problematic at this time of year, Felix had extraordinary seamanship abilities. Cain determined that he would set out from Rome near the end of November, sail to Carthage, perhaps to Tyre, and then return to Judaea for a brief visit.
He needed to be back in Rome for the chariot festival parade in the beginning of March the following year. This, the most important of the periodic processions, was a huge gathering, where the owners and leading drivers of all the factions would appear with much pomp and circumstance in the Circus Maximus. Because he was the majority shareholder in the Greens, now the winningest faction, Cain’s attendance was expected. However, the desire to return to his son’s side was far more compelling.
“When I come back, we will start looking for a horse,” he told Quintus. “Not a sculpture this time, son, but a real horse. The stallion will be your very own. For your twelfth birthday.”
Quintus’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, Father, I will take such good care of him!”
“And what will you name him?”
His son’s lack of hesitation suggested he had pondered the matter for some time.
“I will name him Crescens, for under my care he will grow strong!”
May the name be a good omen, thought Cain, as he hugged his boy.
CHAPTER 62
The Mediterranean, AD 33
“IT’S GOOD TO BE back on board the Nostos!” Cain exclaimed to Felix, as the captain directed their departure from Ostia on an overcast morning with shifting, gusty winds. The Greek name of Cain’s cargo ship meant “journey home.”
“The weather may be chancy, sir. But your knowledge of these waters is unsurpassed.”
“You sell yourself short, Captain. I have always felt safe in your hands.”
Cain thought of his farewell with Quintus. Every time he left Rome, he had mixed feelings. He longed to take the boy with him, but Quintus’s health might not withstand a long sea voyage. It was far safer for him to remain in Rome, where the doctors could keep a close watch on his condition and the kindly Scorpus could offer strong moral support.
Heavy seas on the voyage to Carthage delayed them a bit. But after supervising warehouse repairs there and loading a fresh shipment of blown glass, they made Caesarea in fifteen days, a fast run aided by moderate seas and steady southwesterly winds in sunny weather. It took Cain only a few days to transact his business, so he decided in favor of moving on to Tyre, where he hoped to purchase a large quantity of Tyrian purple dye and a consignment of salted freshwater fish from the Sea of Galilee. Both were highly desirable commodities that would fetch high prices in Rome. The dye was unique, and the fish were coveted as a culinary delicacy.
As the Nostos approached Tyre, Cain couldn’t help but think once again of Tanith. Few people in his life had touched his heart the way she had. From the harbor, he glimpsed the balcony of the old estate that she and her sea-captain father Ahiram had once owned atop the hill. Time had weathered the stone, but it had not erased Cain’s bittersweet memories. He had lost her so soon after she found him.
“Oh, God,” he entreated silently, “please don’t take my Quintus as well.”
Curiously, the bazaar in Tyre had not changed much. This market was still one of the focal points of Mediterranean trade, the way it had been in the days of Ramesses and Moses. Although the sailing season was over, the bazaar still bristled with activity, with merchants concluding deals for overland trade ventures to destinations such as Petra, Antioch, and points east on the Silk Road. Cain had no trouble locating what he wanted.
Onshore winds meant that the visitors would have to remain in Tyre for at least a few days until offshore breezes favored departure. While Cain negotiated for the Tyrian dye consignment, Felix purchased supplies for the return voyage. He also identified a group of fishermen who had arrived in Tyre from a town named Capernaum, on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee. Having agreed with th
em on a price for a large consignment of freshwater fish, Felix plunged back into the bazaar to meet Cain.
“The vendors are two sets of brothers, sir. They are Jews from Galilee. I sampled the fish, and they are delicious.”
“Are they quoting a fair price?”
“I have negotiated that with them already. I am sure you will be pleased.”
“Well done, Felix. How soon can the fish be loaded on the Nostos?”
“It can be done immediately, sir. The fishermen are standing by at the dock. But I have one more matter to attend to before we leave—the new canvas awning you requested. I will search for it now and join you at the port in an hour or so. Would you mind paying the Galileans in my absence?”
“No, of course not. But don’t be too long. If the winds shift, we must leave as soon as possible.”
“I understand, sir. The fishermen have a treasurer named Judas. He’s the one wearing a yellow tunic.”
Nodding, Cain made his way back to the port. His 160-foot cargo ship was anchored parallel to the dock, and his crew was working amidships with the group of itinerant Galilean fisherman to load the fish on board. He had never seen these fishermen before, but standing near the Nostos was an onlooker whom Cain recognized at once: the carpenter who had interrupted his tile game three years before in Caesarea and to whom he had offered water. The man was exchanging casual chat with the Galileans.
“Jesus of Nazareth!” exclaimed Cain. “What are you doing here?”
Jesus took Cain’s hand. “Marcus Flavius Pictor, you have returned. How glad I am to see you!”
“Let us converse together in the stern of my ship. Come,” Cain urged Jesus toward the aft gangplank, bemused that the carpenter had a memory almost as acute as his own.
When the two men had boarded, Cain guided Jesus to a sheltered spot under the awning.
“You know the visiting fishermen, then?” asked Cain.
“Certainly. They are all my friends. Do you see the two men on the left in the light blue tunics?” Jesus pointed to the workers amidships. “Those are Peter and Andrew. They are brothers. And, closer to us on the right are James and John. They are also brothers. The one in the middle, in the yellow tunic, is Judas.”
“But when we met in Caesarea, you were a carpenter,” said Cain. “Have you adopted a new profession?”
“Yes, you might say that,” said Jesus with a grin. “These fishermen are a great help to me. But tell me, Marcus, about that house you said you were building. Have you completed it yet?”
“Well, no. I had expected to be finished by now, but some of the materials I ordered for the repository on the estate were not delivered up to standard.”
“I am sorry to hear that. What will your repository be used for?”
Cain felt curiously disarmed in Jesus’s presence. He saw no reason not to be candid.
“Well, part of it will serve as an observatory, but its main purpose is an archive. I have spent much of my spare time recently amassing a collection of great historical works. I am seeing to it that they are preserved for posterity.”
Jesus did not probe the matter but said only, “You are to be commended, Marcus.”
Shifting the focus, Cain asked, “In Caesarea, you mentioned that you would also be building a large house soon. Have you started yet?”
“Yes, indeed. It is almost finished.”
“Well,” said Cain, “I am always on the lookout for experienced carpenters. If you will travel to Herculaneum, I have the ideal next job for you. I recall very well the chairs and tables you built in Caesarea. They were top-quality furniture. I’d be proud to have such items in my villa.”
“That is gracious of you to say,” Jesus replied with a chuckle.
“Your work for me could become quite popular among the wealthy in Herculaneum. They demand nothing but the finest craftsmanship and materials.”
“Believe it or not, Marcus, I actually do my best work with common components. Thank you for your offer, but I presently have important work to do here in Judaea. Still, I would be delighted to accept a future invitation from you.”
“What is this important work you speak of, if I may ask?”
“My friends and I have traveled from Galilee to Tyre on a mission. Why not come and hear me speak about it to a gathering later this afternoon?”
Cain hesitated. He thought about staying, but during their conversation the wind had changed, and the ship’s flapping pennants showed that an offshore breeze had finally arrived. He realized that a window for departure was opening, but it might be of short duration, and he had to be back in Rome in time for the chariot festival.
“I, too, must decline for now, Jesus. We have been waiting on the wind for three days now. This time of year, with such unpredictable weather, we have to sail when we can. I am eager to get back to Rome.”
“Yes, of course,” Jesus said. “You have a family there?”
“My wife died young,” Cain told him. “But I was blessed with a son. Yet his health is poor. Every day is a struggle for him. The doctors say he has a chronic lung condition. Watching his body waste away, I would give up everything—my land, my houses, my ship, all my belongings—if only he could recover. He loves horses…” Cain’s voice trailed off awkwardly, as tears welled in his eyes.
“I understand the deep love you have for your son,” Jesus said, gripping Cain’s shoulder warmly.
The offshore breeze freshened, and Cain could see that all the fish had now been loaded. Collecting himself, he strode across the deck and delivered a pouch of money into the waiting hands of Judas before returning to where Jesus stood.
“You are ready to sail, then?” Jesus asked.
Cain looked amidships and saw that Felix had arrived and the crew had begun trimming the sails.
“Yes. But I hope we will meet again.”
“Nothing is impossible, Marcus. Have a safe voyage home.” Jesus stepped from the ship’s stern back onto the dock, then turned around to face Cain.
“Travel quickly,” he said. “For your son’s good health has returned.”
His words were almost lost in the welter of shouts and commands as the bowline was cast off and the ship glided forward. Cain waved his hand in farewell.
***
Cain had budgeted enough time for brief stops in Antioch and Athens. In Antioch, he would acquire more Silk Road merchandise and perhaps sell some of his Tyrian dye; while in Athens he would pick up the new telescope he had commissioned for his observatory. He would also see, for the first time, the renowned Parthenon, built on the Acropolis about thirty years after he had left the city for Persia. Many people had praised it as the world’s most magnificent structure.
On the first leg, about two hundred miles northward from Tyre to Antioch, Cain and Felix chatted over lunch, savoring some of the salted fish they had purchased. They were seated in the stern, under the fine new canvas awning.
“By the way, who was that fellow you were talking with here on the ship when we were getting ready to cast off?” asked Felix.
“Funny that you should mention it. He’s an interesting man from Galilee I met originally in Caesarea three years ago at the senet tournament. He knows all those men who sold us this fish.”
“What was he doing in Tyre?”
“Well, that’s the mystery of it. He had been a carpenter, and a very good one. But now he says he’s on some important mission with those fishermen. He wanted me to come hear him talk. I couldn’t quite figure it out.”
“What’s his name?”
“Jesus of Nazareth.”
Felix blinked and set down his fork. “That was Jesus of Nazareth? Sir, when I was in the Hebrew section of the market buying the canvas, this name was on everyone’s lips. Rumors were buzzing about how this man had supposedly healed a woman’s daughter. The girl was said to be tormented by a demon. Jesus praised the mother’s great faith and granted her request. Aside from the miraculous cure, many people were pointing out that this woman w
as not even Jewish. Jesus has apparently attracted a very considerable number of followers.”
Now it was Cain’s turn to be taken aback. What had Jesus said about Quintus’s health just before their departure? His answer to his captain was decisive.
“Felix, we must find out more about this man Jesus. Do you remember Demetrius in Antioch?”
“Yes, of course, sir. He is one of your most trusted cohorts in trade.”
“Demetrius owes me a large sum from our last transaction. When we arrive in Antioch, tell him I will forgive the entire amount if he will agree to go immediately to Galilee. He should interview people there, especially the fishermen, to find out everything he can about Jesus. Then, arrange to put Demetrius on a fast transport ship so that he can reach Rome before we do. I want to hear his report as soon as we arrive.”
“Yes, sir. I will see to it.”
As the prow of his ship smoothly cleft the turquoise sea, half of Cain’s heart questioned his decision to decline Jesus’s invitation in Tyre.
The other half strained with impatience to see Quintus.
CHAPTER 63
Circus Maximus, Rome: March, AD 33
WHEN CAIN REACHED ROME, the chariot festival was already beginning. As he crested the Palatine Hill, he could hear the roars of an overflow crowd at the Circus below. They were keyed up to cheer on their faction at the parade and at the races that followed, in which the charioteers would compete for the winter season championship. There was no time to stop at his estate on the way, and Cain knew that the house servants would have wheeled Quintus to a trackside seat earlier that morning. The boy would never miss an event such as this one. He wondered if his son, under the guidance of Scorpus, had begun to scout horses for the birthday present Cain had promised him.
