 
### THE SECULARY OF A

### WANDERING JEW

### A History in Seven Sins

− Book I −

### ENVY

by

Paulo Barata

SMASHWORDS EDITION

*****

PUBLISHED BY:

Paulo Barata on Smashwords

The Seculary of a Wandering Jew - Book 1 - ENVY

Copyright 2012 by Paulo Jorge Barata Santos

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### Contents

PREFACE

THE MAN

THE MISCREANT

THE MERCHANT

THE PATRON

THE COUNCILLOR

THE PATRIOT

THE FATHER

THE PIOUS

THE HUSBAND

THE TRAVELLER

THE DILIGENT

THE POLITICIAN

THE AMBASSADOR

THE REPROBATE

THE ENVIED

LIST OF CHARACTERS

GLOSSARY

" **Truly I tell you, some who are standing here will not taste**

death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom."

Matthew - 16:28

PREFACE

The less sagacious will look on this book as a mere diary. A record of many and many days. Of too many days. Days that breed into weeks, multiply into months and years and spread through the centuries. And truthfully, this is a _seculary_ — a word undefined until now, superfluous for human chronologies — an epic of happenings, illustrated with the reminiscences of a traveller in Time and History.

Time, that fiend of all that is created, the ever lasting nemesis of all existence, be it man, animal, plant, planet or universe. And so it was that our ancestors, always insightful, knowing of its inexorable existence, deified it as Chronos, one of the many names of this unbegotten god, self-created and extant before all that became, an omniscient creator of the cosmos, of earth, of water, of fire and of heaven, incessantly devouring his own creation in perpetual anthropophagy.

For many many years, I often pondered, uncertain of ever being able to tell what I now begin to write, and I hesitated because I wanted to recall stories with a beginning, a middle and an end.

The beginning was not difficult, I must admit, but without an end in sight, I had to be particular about the middle. I needed a conducting thread, something identifiable to us all. And what could this illusive expedient be ? Aware by experience that morals, values and virtues were transient through the ages, I decided to use sins " and let us be frank, is there anything more recurrent, subconscious, instinctive and intrinsic to our humanity than the act of sinning ?

It was thus that I devised these natural partitions to my seculary, to my stories. For each period its sin, each nothing more than the anathema of its own age.

As with everything that is created, there will always be critics, convicted skeptics and the radical doubters " certainly an overwhelming majority, but I also believe that there will be some, guided by their imagination, will surpass logic, science and reason and come to accept these improbable stories.

It is for these, heroes of such faith, that I now write.

Ahasver ben Simon

2012ce

THE MAN

Every beginning is significant, not because it defines a story or the plot and much less any ending, but it is in the beginning, in the overture, when all gets prepared for what it naturally follows. It is the clamor of the first chords, the initial soundings, the sheer tones and motions of creation.

We begin this tale in Jerusalem, more than 20 centuries ago, more precisely in the year of the Consulates of Servius Sulpicius Galba — a future Emperor, no less — and Lucius Cornelius Felix — an unknown throughout the ages. The Romans, masters of the then known-world, were not keen in numbering years, and it was also the eighth year of the mandate of Pontius Pilate, our provincial Prefect, a mere 30 years after my own birth, and, to be more exact or even pedantic, 3793 years since the very beginning of all, the creation as recorded in the opening passages of the holiest of books.

Year 33

Jerusalem has always been a city of many and for many, and always will be a city of faith, a city of temples and religions, a city more enduring and belligerent than Rome itself, the capital-state of that pagan empire that ruled us all.

The bustle, the confusion, the commotion of a thousand sounds in semitic languages. The dust, always the dust, the smells, the crowds. Imagine the disquiet of those who are by nature restless in their faith, in their creed, and in their rituals, and more so at a time of _pesach_ , when, once again, there is talk of a new messiah. A messiah like so many before, risen from the aridity of forgotten fields, followed by the usual cadre of dusty and naive acolytes. Another believer, a pilgrim who had come to the festival, just one of the many thousands that arrived each day through barren roads with no beginning or ending.

I had not seen him or heard of him yet. After all, if he truly were a messiah, then someone forgot to sound the divine trumpets, to shake the city walls and rattle the colonnades of the temple. Was not that prophesied ? And his army ? The same that would liberate us from the tyranny of our enemies and punish the dammed and the unfaithful ? Nothing like that had been seen, and of the armies, only the ever indefatigable Romans were still parading the streets, to the beat of their marching orders.

But, improbable as it was, his presence began to be felt. There were rumors of miracles, amazing tales of acts that were performed, dead that had risen and the infirm who were healed by his hand, his will and command. Benign speeches and unpretentious preaching, unusual with our customary messiahs. In the past, those others had arrived shouting imprecations and vociferous threats, invoking divine retribution to punish the sins of each and every one. And it only ended when they were consumed by the military ire or by the opprobrium and exhaustion of their own followers.

This one preached love to each and every one, encouraged fraternity towards all, praised humility and poverty. Simple teachings for ordinary people and all so understood and accepted as is today.

In my case, I admit that it had not caught my attention at first. I had always looked at religion as more of a habit than a blind devotion. But I profoundly believed in our Lord, attended the Temple, and, like most, I had been provided with sufficient tuition on the scriptures to understand and respect them. I always endeavored to obeyed the sacred laws, but in all, I could not claim to follow strictly and faithfully all the commandments, and there were many. I respected the _Shabbat_ , followed the daily rituals of prayer, ate what was permitted. I had been circumcised in the age of infantile apathy, and above all else, I kept the Lord as my one only and true god. I was never an active defender of zealous convictions nor did I have the inclination to lose myself in profound religious discussions. I just accepted what was usual and normal in those days. I was not, nor did I aspire to be a Pharisee, a Saducee and much less an Essene.

Since we are at that point of who I am and how I am, let me elucidate you. My name is Ahasver ben Simon, an unusual name even in those days. According to father, it was the name of an illustrious ancestor, one that came down from Babylon to the land of the Canaanites and rose through his own sapience and rectitude, remembered by all as the first in the family to rise to the councillorship of the Sanhedrin. Obviously, there was a time when father must have had high hopes and ambitious plans for me. The story goes that mother was not too pleased with this name for her firstborn, but came to accept it when father promised to choose more appropriate names for the remainder offspring, which ended up just being my brother Isaac, adequately named in honor of the illustrious prophet.

But still speaking of religion, there were those in the family who were real devotees, and took a keen and too active interest in such matters. My father Simon, son of Ezekiel, not only claimed to have been educated by the most distinguished sages and doctors of the Mosaic law, but also kept reasserting his extensive and inspired knowledge of all political and religious hues of the day — and considering the many and different ideological currents of the time, this was no easy task, and certainly not one for amateurs.

Regrettably, the good fortune of the family was forfeited in the time of his late adolescence, when various relatives were implicated and condemned in a palatial plot, never satisfactorily explained to me. This marked the end of the abundance and also of the family's ephemeral preeminence. Nevertheless, guided by his infallible instinct for survival, as he used to say when retelling his saga, he managed to rise once more and became a prosperous merchant, owner of a large cloth emporium and tannery. And although his reputation never again rose to the heights of yesteryears, he still managed to save enough for an early retirement from such an occupation, unworthy of his illustrious ancestry.

Now, aloof from such mundane affairs, and also a widower, father filled his time with daily pilgrimages to the Temple, vigorously devoted himself to prayers and the nurture of friendships with scribes, some priests, and mostly with sages and interpreters of the law. Knowledge that he generously imparted to us during our vespertine conversations.

The other keen observer of religious affairs and a devoted Zealot was my brother Isaac.

Younger than I, Isaac was always a fervent practitioner of the rites. A moneychanger by profession, and more so by vocation, he was not much of a talker, unless the conversations were about religion, exchange rates or other topics where he could add his utter disdain for Romans, pagans and blasphemers. He was also a self-proclaimed Saducee, one of the two religious groups that had always run the Temple, the other being the Pharisees — these latter more agreeable to father. While the Pharisees were more lenient with the interpretations of the sacred books, the Saducees were too elitist and fanatical about the literary meaning of each and every word meticulously recorded by Moses, rejecting any and all human commentary to these.

Unlike me, Isaac was of short stature and always wore a dense blackish beard, highlighting his dark eyes and his usual fixed gaze. A typical Syrian face, claimed some, but father preferred to call it Babylonian, distinctively Babylonian. A true virtuoso in accounts, he was the joy and pride of my father, who, notwithstanding his religiosity, had an almost sublime respect for certain metals. _Drachmae_ , _shekels_ , _denarii_ or _aurei_ , all these he exchanged with masterly confidence, and even his distaste for the Romans did not preclude him from having important clients amongst them, justifying this servitude to the heathen by charging them high rates. And I will not deny that sometimes, more often than I would have liked to, he came to my rescue with some _shekels_ , in the more darker days of too few customers. But overall our relationship was not the most affectionate, and rightly or wrongly, I always detected some condescension from him with my mediocre aptitude for numbers and arithmetic.

At this time, we all resided in father's house, up in the heights of the city, not too distant from Herod's grand palace. A house built on three levels, ascetically plain, without the frivolity of the new rich or the embellishments of the Hellenists. Not counting the servants and the few slaves, there were five of us in that house: father, Isaac, myself, my wife Ruth and my son Yeshua — still a toddler. In the lowest floor, we had the servant quarters as well as the stables, where two lazy mules and two old horses took residence, and a noisy dog, irritatingly keen to contribute to the early morning chores of the neighborly roosters.

This we called the new house, since we had all lived before in another, located in the lower town, above the emporium, close to one of the main stairs that climbed towards the Temple in parallel to the west wall. The sale of father's businesses had lifted us all to the hill of Zion, neighboring the elite, the oligarchs, the priestly families, prosperous functionaries and other notables of our walled-in society.

Without the emporium, Isaac and I had to look for a profession of our own. Isaac, encouraged by father's will and patronage, acquired a stand at the Temple and became a money changer, trading all sorts of coinage and goods for Tyrian _shekels_ , the only currency accepted in the Temple itself. My part of the deal was barely enough to purchase a small shop in the newest part of town, close to the Roman fortress of Antonia, but far from home.

As the eldest son and the least gifted, I ended up following on father's footsteps, inheriting part of the stock of the tannery and a few of his former customers. To be frank, I was no artist. My products were robust, but the confection lacked the refinement and the details that some of our wealthier customers valued most, and this lack of talent and some personal apathy with my career reduced much of my work to repair and service footwear and other leathery goods. Not a very profitable business anywhere and heavily dependent on the religious festivals when the city filled up with pilgrims and potential clients.

_Pesach_ was now a few days away, and the city was exceedingly crowded, full of pilgrims, not only Judaean believers but also many Gentiles who came into the city for the festivities, usually arriving in the week before and using their time in Jerusalem for shopping. My workshop was well located, in the main _decumanus_ north of the Temple that linked the city to the roads of Caesarea and Damascus, close to one of the main markets in town, also extremely active in those days when everybody bargained for lambs and doves for the sacrificial rites.

It was also a time for family, and our house was usually filled with relatives from all over the province, all equally and magnanimously received by father who only demanded their faithful observance with the sacred rites of the festival to ensure their hospitality and a place at the _seder_. Close uncles and distant cousins came to us in those days, some sleeping in the yard under makeshift tents, and others laying about the _atrium_ and other more quiet parts of the house. Some I recognized from previous years, but others were complete strangers. After all, to be lodged with us all they had to do was to invoke some known relative and father would take them in — I often had had serious doubts that some of them were even related to us. But, once again, these were happy and festive days when affinities grew around discussions and conversations on friends, Romans, politics and religion. And in those days of fervent religious feelings, I remember someone mentioning that a new messiah had arrived in the city. Not just any liberator this time, but a self-acclaimed son of the Lord. Truly, I was not at first too impressed with such news, after all we had had several messiahs in the recent past, but I could not think of one having claimed such divine ancestry. It was something new and too blasphemous for the _Kohanim_ to tolerate.

"Father," I asked brusquely, "is this known to the priests?"

The answer was not immediate. Father had this annoying habit of ignoring questions that were not entirely to his liking, withholding answers while he pondered on multiples responses, putting on airs of profound reflection.

"There are stories... people speak of a prophet that has come to the city with a group of acolytes. But you know, it is not the first time that he is in Jerusalem. There are those who have seen him before, but with fewer followers. But the Kohanim know who he is."

"They accept that he calls himself the son of the Lord?"

"They are just rumors for now. No one has yet proven that he actually said that, and besides, he seems harmless enough. Preaches peace. No one has heard him speak harshly of anyone, which is unusual with these preachers who always want to change everything and everyone. For now he is just another eccentric and no one is paying him much attention, besides, the priests are too busy with their duties these days."

"But is it known who are these followers?"

"What I have heard is that they are simple people, fishermen, craftsmen, all from the north. There are some who claim that they are Essenes. Much of what he preaches is similar to what they follow, and the Essenes themselves are also called Nazarenes."

"But there are those who claim that this preacher has a sizable number of followers up north," added Isaac, "they say he performs miracles, has cured illnesses and even raised the dead, here close to the city, in Bethany. At least, that is what I heard in the Temple."

"Just tales! The Essenes also claim that they heal by the laying of their hands."

"I wonder if he is here just for the _pesach_ ..."

"Well, he is here, let us see if he does follow the rituals. The Essenes do not heed our sacred rites."

"Well, that should reveal his intentions. If he is in the city at this time, and does not go to sacrifice in the Temple, then what is he doing here? He would do well not to incite any mutiny. Pilate has already shown that he will not tolerate any sedition, much less at a time like this when the city is full of pilgrims."

At this point, it is not extraneous to recall that our city has always been targeted by greed, envy and rivalry among religious sects. It might have been a holy city, but its inhabitants were certainly too human. Even the Gentiles feared our intolerance in everything that had to do with our covenant with the Lord and the commandments. Not only with the personal ones — that ruled our every day behavior as individuals — but also with all the others that affected the collective life of the city. Through violent means and deeds. we had repeatedly shown the world our intolerance with idolatry and other practices that were offensive before the eyes of the Lord.

Pontius Pilate had been Prefect of Judaea for almost eight years, and he was considered a stubborn, intemperate and belligerent man, but then again the same was said of most Romans, a most arrogant people. It was still fresh in our memories the sad episode with the ensigns and effigies of the legions that he had wanted to bring into the city. After several mutinies and too many deaths, only through the personal intercession of the Emperor did he desist with his intent. But even such a rebuke did not stop him from grabbing part of the _korban_ of the Temple and to use it in public works. The result was inevitable, another mutiny in the marketplace and more than 100 dead protesters.

Nevertheless, it was not just the Romans who governed the city at the time. As Prefect, Pilate had limited judicial power, and to enforce he had no more than 3000 legionnaires spread throughout the entire province. It was still up to the Sanhedrin to legislate, implement, and enforce the civic and religious laws of the day. But we all knew that our own Council was subject to the ultimate acquiescence of the Empire, and many decrees and rulings had to be approved by the Romans. But as long as the Publicans were sated and the _pax romana_ unaffected, Rome preferred not to interfere.

A few days before the start of the festival of that year, I went down to the city on my way to the workshop very early in the morning. I was hoping for a good day of good business. As I came to the hippodrome I saw that all the streets that led up to the Temple mount were already filled, and not wanting to get bogged down by the crowds, I took to the more sinuous alleys that lead to the gate of Ephraim. All accesses to the Temple were congested, and the sound of the crowds dampened the soundings of the horns that marked the hours in the Temple.

Close to the Decumanus Maximus, I suddenly came across a quiet crowd following a man mounted on an ass going southwards towards the lower city. Strange, I thought, someone important would be going in a litter or a palanquin, but never in a donkey.

As I arrived at the shop, some of the staff were already waiting for me, and I asked Jona, one of the apprentices, who was the man that had just passed by with the crowd.

"Master, it was the prophet Yeshua and his followers."

"Who?"

"Yeshua", he repeated, "also known as the Nazarene. They were saying that they were on the way to the Temple."

"The Nazarene ? You know him?"

"I do," answered Asher, one of my older employees, "I have heard him speak in the olive grove on the other side of the valley of Cedron, close to my parents house. They have camped there for some days, him and his group of followers. They were few in the beginning, but now many other pilgrims have joined with them."

"Is this the one who calls himself the son of the Lord?"

"That I don't know, Master. But he has a lot of followers, that I know," replied Asher conclusively.

"Have you heard him preach?"

"Yes, Master. I think he is a good preacher. He spoke of the kingdom of the Lord... he said that we all could be saved from the _sheol_. The kind and the pure of heart," and he added, "and the generous and good..."

"And not just the rich..." someone else added.

"The good and the pure?" I asked as I opened the front door, "and are there a lot of those around?"

"Master, according to him, all those who accept the divine truth and live by the holy rules..."

"Whose rules? The Lord's laws?"

"I believe so, Master. But he also warned us not to blindly trust the priests. Many of them are corrupt and concerned only with their own well-being and worldly goods" and he went on, "Master, the prophet told us that when we die our spirit may rise to the heavens to join with the Lord. Only the spirits of the wicked and the false go down to the _sheol_ , to the land of nothingness."

"And the souls of misers too..." someone else added.

"All that was promised by this genuine son of the Lord?", I asked sarcastically.

"I heard that said, Master, but I am not sure if it was by him or by one of his disciples."

"Very well, Asher," and finally getting the door opened, "Let us all get to work and follow my laws here."

But I could not relinquish the notion that the day would not be as calm as I had hoped for, despite the slow movement in the streets and the few customers who came into the shop. Regrettably, neither did the day seemed particularly auspicious for business.

Towards the end of the morning I noticed a significant increase of people passing in the street, some hurriedly walking towards the city gate. Soon after, one could hear the cacophony of an approaching mob. Despite all the altercation, I could not perceive the nature of the turmoil. It did not seem that they were being persecuted by anyone, and many even stopped by the fountain to drink and wash the dust from their faces. Certainly, any sign of trouble would be heavily handed by the Romans, and they might even close all commerce in the area. Curious and hesitant with what to do, I sent Asher to find out what was coming our way.

"Master, they are all talking about the Nazarene."

"Him again? What about it?", I asked sourly.

"The same one who passed here in the morning..."

"Yes, Asher, I know !" interrupting him, as I knew all too well how Asher could be verbose if not contained.

"... on the way to the Temple."

"And what happened? What's all the noise about? Was there some trouble?", if so, the Romans would certainly intervene. We all knew how truculent they were during the festivals.

"They are saying, Master, that he rebelled against the moneychangers and the bird sellers that stay in the courtyard of the Temple. And a lot of those who followed him took to rioting and stole money too. They also freed a lot of doves when they broke the cages. They must have caused quite a loss to those merchants."

"All that and he was not arrested?"

"No, Master. The Temple guards could not get to him because his followers barred the way. They are all on their way here, returning to their camp."

"And the Romans?"

"I don't know. No one mentioned them."

"Well, if the Romans didn't intervene, maybe it will not affect us here."

At this point, all I hoped for was not to witness one of the usual profane rituals of the _pesach_ , a riot, and suddenly, it occurred to me that Isaac could have been one of the victims of the violence in the Temple. Since I couldn't just leave the shop, I sent one of the apprentices to enquire after him.

Meanwhile, the street was now packed with the inquisitive and the curious. Some would stop, looking behind them for the source of the noise, and eventually continued their way. Others looked for refuge from the noonday sun beneath the porches of the various shops, breathing in the dusty hot air, and waited for the outcome of the commotion. With the shop now empty of customers, I too went out into the street and met with some of the neighbors who were standing by the sidewalk watching the crowds. In the marketplace, on the other side of the _decumanus_ , one could also see the various merchants emptying their stalls in anticipation of possible pillages from the unruly crowd. Following their example, I also stored the merchandise that I usually kept exposed in the porch, and with nothing else to do, we all waited for the multitude to pass by.

Suddenly, there he was, the preacher.

He came on foot amidst his followers, and his apparent tranquility was a stark contrast with the exuberance of the surrounding crowd. Wearing a plain beige tunic, he was of medium height with long disheveled hair, and an erratic short beard on a face marked with the hue of too many days under the relentless sun. Dark and inquisitive eyes flowed over the crowd, and a hidden smile was broken by short conversations directed to those nearest to him. Very strange, nothing more than an ascetic. Nothing in his bearing distinguished him from most of the others. He surely must have had some hidden talents, or be a highly persuasive speaker, to captivate so many followers. And, given my professional interest, I even noticed the state of his sandals. Used, very used.

"He looks just like one of those Essenes that live in the desert" I heard someone comment.

The Essenes, another of our religious groups, like the Pharisees and Saducees, lead isolated lives in small groupings, where they shared all they had amongst themselves. But it was unlikely that he belonged to such a group. They did not pay much interest to the Temple, nor to moneychangers, but I must admit that I did not know much about their ways either.

"I don't think he is an Essene," replied Eloy, one of my neighbors and the owner of the pottery works located next to the fountain, "I have met a few of them, and they would never do this. Especially now that they have stopped going to the Temple. For some time they have considered it unclean, and do not believe that the Lord still keeps His presence there."

Someone else added.

"They are heretics, of course. What else?"

As the crowd passed, other comments could be heard, all in the same tone of indignation. It was known to all that our covenant with the Lord left no ambiguity for heresies, and those who placed themselves above the laws, so clearly enumerated and repeated in our scriptures, would be subject to punishment by human will or by the ire of the Lord himself.

"I have also heard him acclaimed as the messiah!"

"Another messiah?" someone added with obvious scorn.

"There are those who say that he is a descendent of King David!"

"Such nonsense! How can a peasant, born up country, be a member of our royal house?"

"I was told he was a carpenter!"

"No, no. His father is a carpenter."

And Asher still added. "I heard him speak. He claims to be a fisherman, and so do most of those that came with him from Galilee."

I was surprised! Everyone seemed to have an opinion about this preacher, until yesterday a perfect stranger to me, and I remembered father's words.

"I've heard it said that he performs miracles" I contributed.

"I have heard that too."

"I would like to see that" someone else added wistfully.

"The scriptures do mention miracles," explained another one in our group, "but let us be aware and not forget what Moses had to say about the heathen priests of Egypt who also performed miracles before their King. Miracles alone are not a sign of divine grace when heathens can also perform them at will."

"That is true" someone added judiciously.

Eventually we lost sight of that noble Messianic fisher and miracle worker, who totally unaware of all these opinions, continued placidly down the _cardo_ towards the East Gate, enshrouded in his cortege of sound and dust. I was positive that he was leaving the city for good. After all the commotion he had caused, it was doubtful that the Romans or the city guards would allow him back into the city.

Gradually, the street returned to normalcy, but still too few stopped by the store to enquire after our merchandise and even less bought anything.

I was frustrated! The festivals were extremely important to me. The only time in the year when I could do a bit more business than the usual, and such disturbances so close to the _pesach_ were not a pleasant augury for the coming days. Even more so when I still had to contribute for the _seder_ , pay my part of the sacrificial lamb and leave an adequate contribution in the Temple. I sincerely hoped that nothing serious had happened to Isaac. It seemed that I would have to borrow some _shekels_ from him, necessary to pay for these festive days.

Soon enough, it was time to close shop and go home. The apprentice that I had sent that afternoon to enquire after Isaac had not yet returned, but I was not surprised. He would return in the morning, complaining about the crowds in the town, how much he had struggled, and that he had finally arrived when the workshop was already closed, or such similar excuses. But there was nothing I could do, so the best thing was to get on the way. The night was not the most propitious time to walk around town, especially in such days, when the religious fervor of some did not contain the cupidity of many others.

The streets were now quite empty, and one could easily see the flickering lights of the evening through open doors and windows, illuminating the all too normal routines of a day's end — shops being closed, the women tending to the fires where meals were to be cooked, and the bawls of the children reluctantly dragged into their homes. All the usual and comforting sounds and sights of normalcy, and soon enough I got home almost breathless after rushing up the hill, concerned about Isaac. But even there, all seemed peaceful and calm. The servants at their tasks, the fresh straw laid on the courtyard, the smells and the aroma of food being prepared, and even some of our guests already laying in their usual postings.

With Ruth waiting for me, I took a quick bath, changed my clothes and went up to the roof terrace, where father usually laid resting on his divan, or busy himself with small talk with one of his guests.

"May peace be unto you, father."

"With you too, Ahasver. How was the day?"

"Not good, father. Turmoil and confusion, and what about Isaac? Is he home? I did hear about the riot in the Temple."

"Yes, he is home, in his room. But he will soon join us here."

"Do you know what happened at the Temple, father?"

"Yes, Isaac told me. That preacher Yeshua went this morning into the courtyard and started to yell imprecations against the sellers and the moneychangers. While he was shouting to any and all, he toppled some of the stands with a shepherd's crook, and even hit some of the merchants with it. Naturally, when the crowd saw what was going on, they rushed in and knocked down more tables and cages and stole a lot of coin."

"Was Isaac attacked? Is he hurt?"

"No, no, but in all that confusion his table was also knocked down, and quite a bit of money was stolen."

"A lot?"

"Well, so he claims, but the worst part was that some of his journals and notes were lost in the turmoil, so it will be hard for him to collect some loans."

"And still they claim to be believers and fearful to the Lord, stealing in the Temple itself. What will happen to this preacher? Are they going to arrest him?"

"I am sure that the moneychangers would like that. And also the priests. There are those who want him arrested for sedition and blasphemy, but with so many people in the city it will be hard to find him."

"Maybe not so difficult. Asher told me today that they are camped on the other side of the Cedron valley, in an olive grove."

"Out of the walls, even more difficult, and with so many followers and pilgrims thereabouts, it won't be easy. But I think he won't come back to the city. Do you know that he once more claimed to be the son of the Lord ? He said so before the crowd, and that the Temple was the house of his father."

"Well, not as harmless as you thought, father. So typical of these messiahs. They start by preaching peace and lofty promises and soon enough they turn to violence."

Isaac arrived, announced by his heavy footsteps echoing through the stairs.

"Good day to you, Ahasver" he greeted.

"And to you too, Isaac. I have heard of the day's incidents."

"Yes, most unfortunate," Isaac was never a man of deep and profound words, "and how was your day at the shop?"

"Not particularly good, either," I complained, "unfortunately that same preacher went by the _cardo_ at the most inconvenient time, dragging an unruly mob behind him."

But Isaac was not paying too much attention, nor did he enquire further.

"Father, later I am expecting some of my colleagues to call here. We are planning to draft a petition to the Council so that this man may be punished for his actions, and some of the priests will also want to accuse him of heresy. This fanaticism must be curbed and quickly too, otherwise, who knows what he may be planning to do next."

"Well, the problem will be to find him. I was just now talking about that with father."

"His followers know where he is staying. All we need is to find one or two, and they will talk, even if we have to pay for such information."

"You are right, Isaac. Now let us go and eat, I want to get to bed early. These festive days are extremely tiresome."

"Yes, father, lets."

But we still had to wait for the meal to be finished, and for some of our relatives who had not yet arrived.

After a too prolonged dinner, where everyone had something to say about the day's events, some of Isaac's colleagues started to arrive, and the conversation livened up with promises of retaliation and justice.

I also ended staying with them, curious to know what they were planning to do, although I had no intention of getting too deeply involved. Eventually we all moved up to the terrace, when the room where we were turned out to be too small to accommodate the latest arrivals.

After a brief and heated discussion, it was agreed that one of them, a scribe by profession, would draft a formal petition.

"How long will it take for you to prepare it, Menahem?"

"Well, if we can agree on all the relevant facts tonight I believe that by the end of tomorrow morning I will have it ready."

"Menahem, it is urgent, you know! Tomorrow he might not even be in Jerusalem anymore. I am sure that he wont be staying around knowing that he could be arrested anytime for his deeds. We have to be quick and act now!"

Isaac suggested. "I do have some parchment in my room. We could start writing it now."

"Well, we could." answered Menahem, "I will need some more lamps here. There's not enough light."

"But why such a rush?" someone asked, "we can only deliver the petition to the Council officer in the morning. Then we still have to wait for a gathering of the Council, and that is unlikely to happen so close to the _pesach_."

"We certainly cannot let that happen. If the Council acts after the festival we will never see him again."

"Isaac, aren't we close to the house of Joseph Caiaphas? The High Priest?"

"Yes, it's not far."

"Well then, let us write this petition now, and we can leave it with one of his secretaries tonight. By tomorrow morning it will be in his hands."

"You think so? They will accept a petition at this hour?"

"I believe so, especially if we write it up in the name of the guild, and I suggest that we add to this document our most profound indignation that these barbaric acts were committed by a heretic who claims to be the son of the Lord. That will certainly fire him up!"

"What an excellent idea!"

It certainly was. One thing is to accuse someone of sedition and violence, but a much more serious accusation for the priests would be to lay on top of it some heretical deeds. Since I had not yet contributed with any ideas, I suggested also that they pay the secretary to ensure that Caiaphas would receive the petition in that same evening or at the earliest time possible in the morning, and so give him time to call for a meeting of the Council. This was also unanimously accepted.

After all, everyone knew too well the power of the shining metal. In regards to the persuasive powers of their own guild, it was too well known the weight they carried in the actual Sanhedrin. Even the Romans respected them, all too aware of how much tax revenue they generated, and many of the Publicans, employed by the empire, were also members.

When I finally retired, I left them in lively conversation. I went down to my room, where Ruth and Yeshua were already fast asleep, despite all the noise that percolated through the window panes.

Ruth was two years younger than I, and we had been married for almost nine years. Slightly shorter than myself, she was not fat nor slim, but a rounded figure, very matriarchal, I had always thought. She was a merry and lively person with bright gray eyes, long silky hair, a comely smile, and a devoted mother to our only child. A difficult and hazardous pregnancy had ended our hopes for further progeny.

Yeshua, the only child in the house, was too spoilt by everyone, but even more by his doting grandfather, totally committed to providing the very best education possible for his grandson. He wanted him to become an illustrious man, worthy of his ancestors. A fabled doctor of the law, maybe a just politician, a fair judge, or even a well-loved member of the Sanhedrin.

Ruth, however, came from a humbler background — or so she usually claimed with a rueful smile — but not inferior in wealth, having being born in Jericho to a family of rich traders in balsam goods. We had met during one of her family trips to the holy city, and a few years later we got married, both very happy and very much in love. To quote father, the most judicious act that I ever made or would ever make. I totally agreed although, at the time, I had thought that her dowry could have been more generous, but I also understood, after all she had two brothers and three sisters!

What I most appreciated in Ruth was her disposition. Always happy, always content with everything and everyone, be it friends, relatives or even servants. The only woman in the house, since mother's death, she had been a mother, a daughter and a sister, to everyone's delight and contentment.

THE MISCREANT

Year 33

After a decent night's sleep, I waddled down the stairs for breakfast, when Isaac, too vivacious for such an early hour, sprang up on me.

"It has been delivered!" he cried out.

"What?" I asked still half-doped with sleepiness.

"The petition. We had it delivered to Caiaphas last night."

"Ah, right. He received you?"

"No, no, it was too late when we finished, but we handed it to one of his secretaries and asked to be given to him early in the morning."

"What follows next?"

"We are sure that he will convene a meeting of the Council," he answered with iron certainty, "we do have some friends and he knows who we are, and if he doesn't act today we will raise it with the guild."

Father, who had just sat at the table, also added. "You should have given this matter to Gamaliel, after all he is the _Nasi_ of the Council."

" _Rabban_ Gamaliel?" asked Isaac ?

"Yes."

"He is too much of a moderate, father."

"No, Isaac, not so."

"At least that's what one hears about him."

"Do you expect Caiaphas to send for this preacher? To arrest him?"

"They still have to find him," I mumbled.

"There are some who know of his whereabouts. With the right incentive and yes, I am taking about money, almost anything can be arranged."

"By the way, Isaac, I think I will need a small loan from you." Nothing like the right time, and he seemed to be in a particular magnanimous mood.

The hunt was on. While for some the excitement and fervor of a trial for heresy would be a strong motivator, for Isaac it was clearly a case of retribution for an attack on his person and on his colleagues. It was too well known that moneychangers were one of the more preferential targets of many villains, and they had to be relentless to those who threatened their profession, never allowing for any offense or attack to pass without righteous retribution.

Another working day and hopefully a profitable one. I had initially thought of taking one of the mules as I was feeling a bit sluggish to walk all the way to the shop, but thinking of the crowds that I would encounter on their way to the Temple or to the markets, I decided to go afoot.

On the way, between Herod's theatre and the old Hasmonean palace, I came across Joseph of Arimathea, a well known and most influential merchant, and one of father's dearest friends.

"Peace be unto you, reverend Joseph." I saluted him, and he waved to me from his litter.

"With you too, Ahasver. Are you on the way to the shop?"

"Yes, reverend, duty calls. Are you on the way to the Temple, sir?"

"No, Ahasver. But come with me, we are both going in the same direction."

Joseph was a truly affable man and a frequent visitor at the house, especially after his wife's passing. His widowhood, something in common with father, brought them even closer, and they usually spent a lot of time together, be it at the Temple or in mild discussions at each other's houses.

"Your father is up?" he asked.

"Yes, he was taking breakfast. Aren't you both going to the Temple today?"

"Later, perhaps, but now I have some business affairs to deal with. And how goes the business, Ahasver ? With all these people in town, business must be brisk."

"I do hope so, sir. But yesterday wasn't a good day. You, of course, heard about the riots..."

"Of course, everybody knows of it. But that was in the Temple."

"Yes, but the crowd followed the preacher down the _decumanus_ and ended up disturbing all the businesses on their way."

"Yes, I can imagine that. But tell me, are you happy with the shop? Simon tells me that business is slow and far from your expectations."

"Reverend, we have some good and some not so good days. I expect that everyone feels the same. Sometimes I think that it was a mistake going into business on my own, but father wanted me to be a tradesman and not just someone else's employee."

"I think that is normal, Ahasver. Fathers always have the highest expectations for their children. I wish I could!"

Joseph was childless and according to father, his family, originally from the small town of Arimathea, was small and spread throughout the various cities of the Levant.

"That I can understand, I too am a father."

"Oh yes, and your son Yeshua will be a great man, I'm sure. Not as sure as his grandfather," he said smiling.

"Father exaggerates. Yeshua is getting too spoilt, and now father wants to find a full-time tutor for him, so that he can start with his studies of the scriptures. But he is only eight years old!"

"He told me all about it too. I even recommended someone I know. And Ahasver, let me tell you that if you ever decide to look for another job, I would gladly take you in. You are an honest and diligent worker, and these days it's getting extremely hard to find someone worthy of our trust. But it's up to you, if you ever get tired or disillusioned about the shop..."

"I thank you, reverend Joseph, but I am still hopeful. Things will improve, I'm sure."

As we were now almost at the corner of the great marketplace, Joseph continued on his way to the Fish Gate. The day proved to be calm, with no disturbances and on the whole, a profitable day. I had to close the shop later than usual, much to the chagrin of everyone, and when I finally got home night had already set in.

"Well? Has anything happened with your petition?" I asked Isaac, while we both climbed the stairs up to the terrace, where we could hear father talking with someone.

"Yes, yes, the information we have is that the Council drew an accusation for heresy and another for disturbance of the peace and violence. As soon as they catch him, he will be taken to the Council for questioning. But he couldn't be found today. Apparently he spent the day in Bethany, but it is now known where they are staying in the mount."

"And at the Temple? All was quiet?"

"Yes, sort of. Some good business, but tomorrow will be even busier with the start of the rites. Plus the Romans were very much present once again, up in the cloisters watching us all. Pilate must be worried about yesterday's incident, and even some of the Publicans came up to us to enquire whether we needed additional protection. I think they are afraid to lose some of their tax revenues."

"By the way, Isaac, about that loan I mentioned to you?" slippery as ever, Isaac still had not yet confirmed my request.

"Not to worry, Ahasver, of course I can."

Father and his friend, Pinchas, were both deep in conversation, and as they saw us arrive, they changed the tone and continued over more mundane issues. Not too long after that, Pinchas retired, and father, morose and taciturn, did not add much to the conversation that I kept going with Isaac.

"Is there a problem, father?" I asked, sensing his brooding.

"No Ahasver, just thinking. I had a conversation with Joseph this afternoon. I met with him in the Temple, and he seemed disquieted. He told me that Caiaphas and Gamaliel had summoned the Council and that the session was somewhat tumultuous."

"That was expected" said Isaac gravely.

"But why?" I asked.

"According to Joseph, all the talk was about this preacher Yeshua, and they brought some witnesses who know him and who have been following him for some time. The Council's opinion is not unanimous in setting a trial for heresy. Most of the members would prefer a simpler accusation for violent behavior."

"But why is that ? Is it not blasphemy when he calls himself the son of the Lord?" I enquired.

"As I understand it, there is no reliable source to indict him under that charge. And some of the members would prefer to question him only after the _pesach_ and not do anything until then."

"That can't be!" exclaimed Isaac fiercely, "He will be gone by then ! The Council has to act now. If he's not punished it will create a truly dangerous precedent for us in the guild. Besides, I don't understand the reluctance. Many of us heard him name the Temple his father's house! What else is needed? We can't allow him to get away unpunished. The guild will not accept it. I tell you!"

"Calm down, Isaac."

"Sorry, father, but this is all hugely upsetting."

"Well let me finish. As you have just said, many of the members of the Council also think that they can't afford to wait too long. That is also the opinion of Caiaphas."

"So, who is actually slowing things down, then? The _Nasi_ Gamaliel?" Isaac asked bitterly.

"I am sorry, but I don't get it. Isn't this preacher being accused of both heresy and sedition ? If the issue is finding someone who can reliably testify that he calls himself the son of the Lord, then I believe that the solution is simple. All that is needed is that during the trial the judges themselves pose the question. If he confirms it, then he condemns himself. And if he denies it, then he will be publicly exposed for what he truly is, and all his followers will finally know the truth."

"I think that is it!" smiled Isaac, "well put, brother. But let me tell you, at this point I don't actually care whether he is accused of heresy. The important thing for us is that he be publicly punished for what he did in the Temple! That must be made known to all. Only then can we be safe from similar threats or violence in the future."

"Well, Isaac, there is a considerable difference between both. One is a potential beating, and the other is a stoning to death. Let us not forget that. But Joseph believes also that the problem is aggravated with the rivalry between the families of Caiaphas and Gamaliel."

"Well, that's why the Council's reputation and efficiency are being questioned by all," sentenced Isaac.

"Both Joseph and Gamaliel want a public trial and a just and unquestionable sentencing, otherwise we could risk inflaming the crowds and create a martyr. A condemnation without proof would be seen as a revenge of your guild for the rioting in the Temple. And we must not forget his followers. If there is a riot, it will be ruinous for all, and the Romans will not hesitate to intervene."

"That is true," I agreed.

"Besides that," father still added, "let us not forget that Antipas might have to get involved, since the preacher is a Galilean."

"In conclusion, it doesn't seem that they made much progress today, right father?"

"Well, Isaac, they have issued a warrant to question him. That is something."

"Didn't Joseph come here today? I met him in the morning," I asked.

"No. I invited him over, but he was in a foul mood. I think he is upset with this situation of the preacher. He spent the morning looking for anyone who knew this Nazarene. He says he wants to know more about him."

"The problem with Joseph is that he doesn't have enough to do with his time. He has grown too rich and has too little to do. Either that or Gamaliel is behind this sudden interest," said Isaac.

"Whatever for?" I asked.

"I don't know. But they are very close, you know."

"But, father," I asked, "is Joseph against the arrest of this preacher?"

"Not at all. As I have told you, he wants the Council to question him, but all must be done publicly and with real evidence and witnesses."

"They have to find him first, I've told you," I added.

"I don't think that's an issue anymore. Joseph told me that they have some sort of an agreement with one of his followers."

"They bought someone," deduced Isaac.

"But it won't be a reliable witness. No one will believe the word of an informer."

"Ahasver, the crucial thing is to catch him, drag him into court and punish him for causing the riots in the Temple. None of us is feeling extremely safe these days until everyone sees what happens to those who dare to assault us. After that, I would leave it to the _Kohanim_ to charge him with heresy."

"Strange, Isaac, you don't seem particularly upset to see some shabby preacher calling himself the son of the Lord..."

"Of course I am, father. But false prophets and shady messiahs abound in our land. At this point, I am much more worried with fanatics and villains who threaten our very livelihood."

"I hear you," replied father, "almost every year we see these charlatans rising from the unlikeliest places with their followers and only after the violence and the deaths do these sects disappear."

"It's usually enough to kill the leader, father. Headless, these movements quickly disappear."

"Yes, Isaac, we have seen that, unfortunately."

"So ? For such known maladies, we know the cure."

My brother was truly inspired! But we didn't progress much further on the subject. We still talked about other subjects, but father soon retired, and we both followed. The next day would be long and tiresome, not just an ordinary day of work, but also the day of the start of the Passover, when we all went to the Temple to sacrifice the lambs and fulfill the other rites of the _pesach_.

"They caught him! They caught him last night!" Isaac broke the news early in the morning, and he could only be referring to the Nazarene.

"How did you hear about it?" I asked.

"Joseph came earlier looking for father, and they both went to the jailhouse where the preacher is being held waiting for the Council to meet.

"And father went with him?"

"Joseph asked him to accompany him. He left his litter and his servants down in the courtyard, and they both went afoot. I think I'll go there too, find out what is going on before I go to the Temple."

"Well, I can't. I have to get to work. It's going to be a busy day, I can feel it. Don't forget that this afternoon we are all going to the Temple."

"Of course not, I know that. Don't worry," answered a grinning Isaac.

I was not to witness what followed after the arrest of the preacher, but father patiently retold it to us later.

"They brought him for questioning once they had gathered sufficient quorum in the Council."

"They took him into the Council chamber?" I asked.

"Yes, Ahasver. I stood in the back, but Joseph took his seat and I stayed there watching the proceedings. Not all the chairs were taken, but there was a lot of people in the room and many more stood at the back watching."

"And then?" asked Isaac eager to hear more.

"Caiaphas started to question him. About his activities. What was his purpose in Jerusalem."

"He answered?"

"Yes. He answered by saying that he was in the city to preach the Lord's words. But there Gamaliel interrupted Caiaphas and asked the Nazarene why he had attacked the moneychangers in the Temple."

"Did he explain ?"

"Yes, well, sort of. He said the Temple was being desecrated with the presence of so many salespeople, not just the moneychangers, but also the dove sellers and other tradesmen. Caiaphas asked under whose authority he acted against something that was approved by the Sanhedrin itself."

"And?"

"Well, that was when he condemned himself. He said he could not tolerate such vile commerce in his father's house."

"Really? He actually said that?"

"Oh yes ! We all heard him quite clearly, and from then onwards it was chaos. A general outcry. Many just stood up and tore their tunics, other just prostrated themselves in penitence, shutting their ears with their hands and pleading for the Lord's forgiveness for having heard such blasphemy. Others just stood up and left the room, shouting to everyone that heresy had been committed right there and then. I was stunned, I must tell you."

"All reacted with such vehemence?"

"Well, Ahasver, if not all at least a very noisy majority, I can tell you. Something that had never been seen in that room I was later told."

"But, father, was he then condemned?"

"Of course, what else ? Caiaphas started shouting for silence and quiet in that booming voice of his, and gradually people calmed down, not much, but enough to get back into the order of things. And some started to demand that the Council pass sentence quickly, and the more radical even asked that the preacher be taken outside and stoned right away."

"And Joseph. Did you see him, father?"

"I can't say I did. You see, I was extremely upset also, really distraught with all that was going on. Besides, everyone was now standing also."

"But did they pass sentence?"

"Sure. Caiaphas once more demanded silence and finally sentenced the preacher for blasphemy against the almighty, and asked all the presiding judges to concur with the condemnation."

"They all did?"

"Yes everyone, and even Gamaliel agreed."

"Well, I can imagine that was not to his liking. He is too weak to be the _Nasi_ , father."

"No Isaac. Gamaliel is a truly wise man, but strongly opposed to violence of any kind."

"Caiaphas is the only real strong voice in that Council. Well, him and Annas, I would say."

"And then?" I asked.

"Gamaliel asked that the defendant be allowed to speak. He invoked the right of defense for all that are accused. But they wouldn't let him speak, as the shouting restarted once again."

"They didn't allow him to speak?"

"Wait, I will tell you."

"Sorry, father..."

"As I was saying, again everyone starting shouting incoherently, but Gamaliel did not sit down, and kept asking for everybody to be calm and Caiaphas had to intervene once more. Then Gamaliel asked the accused whether he had anything to say in his defense."

"And did he ?"

"Yes, surprisingly. First he started to speak in a very low tone. No one could hear him. But suddenly he raised his voice, and turning his back to the presiding table, looked at the audience and smiling said that he was not surprised with his condemnation, as everything was to be as had been foretold in the writings of the prophets, and even quoted some of the writings of Isaiah."

"And?"

"Well, everyone was quiet at that point. Then the Nazarene, turning his back on us, asked Caiaphas to continue the trial, for no one there could stop the Lord's will. He would be condemned to atone for their own sins."

"He really said that?"

"Yes, you can imagine the turmoil that followed. Neither Gamaliel nor Caiaphas could now silence the assembly. They had to call on the guards to take the preacher away before they lynched him right there."

"It ended there?"

"For me, yes, it did. Caiaphas asked that all who were not members of the Council to vacate the room. I still saw Joseph deep in conversation with one of his colleagues, the merchant Nicodemus, I think, but I had to leave."

"Do you know what happened next?"

"Later, when I met Joseph outside, he told me that the Council did pass a sentence, and agreed on what to do next. Caiaphas's supporters wanted to take the accused outside the city walls and stone him."

"But, father, that's not possible anymore," said Isaac, "we all know that nowadays only with the Prefect's permission can someone be executed."

"Precisely, and as Gamaliel pointed out to the Council, it would also be necessary the acquiescence of Antipas, as the preacher was his subject."

"So?"

"Joseph believed that Caiaphas feared that Antipas would postpone any decision for after the _pesach_ , so he suggested that the accused be taken to Pilate instead. But the idea was not well accepted. Once more Gamaliel reminded them that the Romans were quite reluctant to get themselves involved in our religious affairs, and besides that, this was a matter of our own faith and it should be handled by Judaeans and not by the Gentiles."

"Gamaliel was right in that," sentenced Isaac.

"I told you, Gamaliel is a wise man."

"And so, what did they decide after all?"

"Well, Caiaphas did not give in so easily, and Annas suggested that the Nazarene be taken to the Prefect for claiming to be a liberator of the Judaean people."

"But isn't that also a religious issue?"

"No, not in that sense. We all know how the Romans have always fought these movements, especially if they fear a riot when the city is full of pilgrims."

"Yes, that's true," confirmed Isaac, "I remember when father told us of the rebellion perpetrated by that Yehuda from Gamala in Galilee."

"For example. But finally they all agreed with Caiaphas, although not everyone was persuaded that it was the right thing to do."

"But don't they fear that the preacher's followers might also rebel?" I asked.

"Well, as far was we know there aren't too many of them," ventured Isaac.

"And that brought the session to a close."

"Then?"

"Calm down, I will tell you. Let me take some water first."

"Here, father..."

"Well, as I was saying, Joseph was a bit discouraged with the outcome, quite upset with the proceedings and asked me to accompany him. So we followed the other councilors and we went to the Pretorium."

"And the preacher?"

"I didn't see him. The guards had taken him away."

"Pilate received you?"

"Yes, but despite all the rhetoric of Caiaphas and Annas, Pilate just ignored then. Even when Caiaphas spoke of a possible mutiny in the city during the festival, Pilate was not moved."

"That's strange, I wonder why?"

"He started to say that Rome was known for her tolerance to all creeds, and that it had always been the policy of the Senate and of the Emperor, not to get involved in religious disputes, as long as these did not conflict with their own gods. And he quickly concluded that he had already received information on the activities of this preacher and that his followers were few and insignificant. He finished the audience by offering to keep the Nazarene locked until the end of the festival, and then to have him banned from the city. But, he said, if it was the wish of the Sanhedrin, he could have the accused flogged for the disturbances that he had caused in the Temple."

"Well, he already knew about that then," said Isaac.

"Of course, your guild is not known for keeping quiet about such disturbances."

"We cannot afford to do otherwise. The people think we are all wealthy, and we know how much they rejoice with other people's misfortunes. Envy is a terrible vice."

"That's so true!"

"That was it ?" I asked.

"Of course not. Do you seriously believe that Caiaphas would give up so easily ? Imagine his standing in the Council. And he did manage to infuriate Pilate."

"How?"

"He went on arguing, doing it in the worst possible manner. He called on the Prefect to do his job, reminding him of the agreement between Rome and the Council."

"That was tactless of him."

"The man was almost convulsive, deranged, I think. But Pilate was too, angry with such a public reprimand, and dismissed them all, telling them to go off to Antipas, since all this commotion was about a Galilean and therefore out of his jurisdiction."

"In other words, he just washed his hands off the matter."

"Did Caiaphas follow his advice ?"

"He was furious still. Adamant that the issue be settled there and then. But Pilate was clever. He asked Caiaphas and Annas if they were asking him to relinquish one of the most fundamental laws of the empire, namely that of citizenship, which gives every citizen the right of appeal to his rightful sovereign. And sarcastically suggested that they should think real carefully before answering, as the wrong answer would be very costly to all those who did not enjoy Roman citizenship."

"How did Caiaphas respond to that?"

"He might have been distraught, but he is not mad. He did calm down, and in a more amiable tone he explained to the Prefect that all they wanted was justice, and adherence to the law. He ended by asking the Prefect if he would abide by the decision of the Tetrarch Antipas. To that, Pilate agreed."

"They managed to speak to Antipas ?"

"Well, not me! I was tired and fed up with all that, and I told Joseph that I was leaving and coming home."

"Do we know what happened next? " I asked.

"Yes, later Joseph told me all about it."

Defeated in battle, but not in his war, Caiaphas asked for the preacher to be brought along, and all went to the residence of Antipas. By this time, a small crowd, curious with all that was going on, had joined them too.

According to Joseph's narrative, Antipas was reluctant to sentence anyone on the day preceding the _pesach_. Caiaphas presented several arguments, but none seemed to persuade the Tetrarch as to the urgency of a condemnation. Caiaphas, by now totally vexed and not understanding the reason for this reluctance, ended by accusing the preacher of calling himself the legitimate and only King of the Judaeans.

Antipas, son of the former King, took note of this accusation, and finally interrogated the Nazarene. But Yeshua kept his silence and did not answer any question of Antipas. In the face of this mutism, Antipas briefly consulted with some of his advisers and concluded by telling Caiaphas that this so called messiah was nothing more than a smiling and deranged idiot, and closed the audience alleging that he had more urgent matters to attend to.

Dismayed, the delegation now faced a real predicament. Suddenly, what had seemed so obvious to them didn't appear relevant to others. But if they just gave up now, the prestige and authority of the Council would be weakened, especially since the trial had been public and everyone was aware of the sentencing. Even Gamaliel agreed with this line of reasoning.

Someone then suggested that the best course to follow was to incite the crowd to claim for justice and once more take themselves to Pilate. He would not refuse to receive them once he saw that the people were supportive. So once again they went off to the Pretorium.

At first, Pilate did not even want to see them, but the mob was now howling for justice, and he finally received them. Caiaphas knew now that any argument that was not political would again be rejected by the Prefect, and this time he charged the Nazarene with sedition and acts of vandalism in the Temple itself. Abominable acts, perpetrated on holy ground and too dangerous to ignore in a city already caught in religious fervor. Lastly, he accused the preacher of calling himself King of Judaea, a clear affront to Roman power and prestige.

After this, Caiaphas passed the word to Annas, a more formidable man and well connected with Rome. Annas now pointed out to Pilate that not only the people were claiming for justice, as could be heard, but also the guilds, heavy contributors to the public purse, also demanded punishment for the assault on their members in the Temple. And if the Prefect kept ignoring their requests, there could be serious risk of rioting with nefarious consequences for all, especially the welfare of the thousands of pilgrims now within the city walls.

With such arguments, Pilate now seemed to vacillate, probably thinking of how his inaction would be interpreted in Rome, and he finally accepted their request. The preacher would first be whipped for sedition and also condemned to death for claiming to be the King of the Judaean people. Also, to dispel any future misunderstandings as to his decision, he ordered that a sign be made with the motive of the crime, and to be affixed in the place of execution as a warning for all those who dared to challenge the might of Rome.

Finally, the delegation was sated, and so was the crowd, and Pilate dismissed them all as the preacher was taken to the dungeons after a relentless flogging in the courtyard of the Pretorium, witnessed by all.

Joseph told us that he was not too surprised with the sentencing, but with the method of execution. Crucifixion was one of the most horrid forms of punishment, and usually applied to those guilty of heinous crimes. But since it was already programmed for that afternoon the execution of several criminals by that method, Pilate just added one more to the event. The Romans always liked to perform executions close to the festivals, when the city was full, firmly believing to be a strong deterrent for any possible upheavals.

Soon enough the news spread throughout the city. A pretender to the throne of David was to be executed that same afternoon, and a good part of the crowd that had followed the delegation of the Sanhedrin stayed on at the gates of the Pretorium waiting to see the condemned. They were to be taken by the legionnaires to the place of execution, outside the walls on the western side of the city, close to the Gate of Ephraim.

Unaware of all that was going on in the upper city, I began to be aware of some restlessness in the crowds that passed by the shop later in the morning. I couldn't believe it! It had been a good day for business, and there were still a couple of hours left before closing time.

"Ahasver, Ahasver!" someone was calling me from the doorway.

"Yes?" it was Eloy, the owner of the pottery works next door.

"Ahasver, you'd better close the shop, there's a mob coming down the cardo, and legionnaires too!"

"What's going on?"

"Must be that gruesome ritual of theirs. I just knew that we would have that today."

"What ritual? What are you talking about, Eloy?"

"Ahasver, don't you know that they usually execute a few criminals on this day, just before _pesach_?"

"Yes I do, and that's why I'm asking. Usually no one pays any attention to it, and you are saying that today there's a crowd following them?"

"I don't know what's happening, but everyone seems to be quite jittery today. I'm just warning you," and he went off hurriedly.

Aroused by his jerkiness, I went out unto the street, and I could hear the noise and agitation of a crowd far down the cardo. It was clear that I had no other option but to close the shop again, and quickly too.

Just as Eloy had foreseen, an unruly mob soon came down on us. Not a very large one, but certainly a very noisy and enthusiastic grouping that the legionnaires tried to contain and control. But even so, some of these got close to one of the condemned and I could hear their abusive words and derisive attitudes to this man, calling him a King and mockingly asking him to free himself by performing some sort of a miracle. Only then did I realize that the prisoner was no other than the Nazarene, Yeshua. So, the Sanhedrin had delivered! Isaac would be pleased.

As they came closer, I saw him stumble, dazed and curved under the weight of a wooden beam that he was carrying on his shoulders.

"He is going to be crucified!" someone exclaimed in surprise.

And in the midst of all that commotion and the shouts and screams of the mob, Yeshua lost his balance and fell to his knees right in front of me, dropping the wooden pole that rolled right up to my feet. One of the soldiers told me to pick it up and hand it to the prisoner. It was a heavy beam. Struggling with it, I got close to the Nazarene, now kneeling and facing the ground, trying to get his breath back. When he saw my shadow, he lifted his face and looking straight at me asked.

"Water," he mumbled, pointing towards the fountain in the sidewalk, "water.. there in the fountain..."

Looking to where he was pointing, all I could see was the sullen legionnaire that was frowning on us.

"I can't," I replied, still struggling with the plank, "take this and go on your way, you have made me lose enough time and money already."

And there and then, staring straight into my eyes, he calmly said.

" _Time... thou shall not want for time... thou will have all the time in the world until my return..._ ", and once again, grabbing the wooden plank and casting me a last glance, he was pushed onwards by one of the legionnaires.

And that procession of the doomed continued on its way.

"What did he want, Ahasver ?" asked Eloy.

"Water, just water," I said, already regretting my harsh wording to the preacher, "but you saw it, Eloy, there was no way the soldiers would stop and allow for that."

"No, of course not. What was his answer?"

"Piffle. Something about time and that one day he will return. The poor man was almost moribund and could hardly carry that wood."

"Return? What can he mean by that? These religious fanatics do like to speak in riddles. He's on the way to certain death, and he's talking about returning!?"

Suddenly, someone in the crowd grabbed my arm. It was Joseph who had been following the cortege. A Joseph as I had not seen before, wearing a darkish hooded cloak, and what seemed to be a tunic of rough homespun cotton. I would never have recognized him in that state.

"He spoke with you, Ahasver?" he feverishly asked.

"Reverend Joseph! What are you doing here?" and staring at his attire, I asked, "What's going on?"

"What did he tell you? Yeshua."

I could see that he was really distraught, and I quickly told him of the words spoken by the Nazarene.

"Are you sure, Ahasver? Did he really say return? His return?"

"Yes, he did," I answered, "but what is this all about? Why now this interest with the preacher, reverend Joseph?"

In a single breath he quickly mumbled. "Ahasver, I met today with one of his followers and he told me all about the preaching and the messages of this Yeshua," and he continued, "I don't think he is a messiah, nothing like that, but there's something truly wonderful in his teachings. New messages of hope for us all. But I must get going now, I don't want to lose them. We'll speak later, Ahasver."

With that I lost sight of him in the crowd that continued to flow towards the city walls.

How strange, very strange. What an awkward behavior. One of the wealthiest men in the city, dressed in rags, there among that restless and unruly crowd, following a heretic to his death, and all within a few hours of the beginning of the _pesach_. Where was the sanity in that?

Not long after, the _cardo_ was once again back to normalcy, and I reopened the shop. But the business of the day was already done. Most of the neighboring shops had closed, and even the marketplace was now rapidly emptying. Everyone was now anxious to get to the festivities and to the customary rituals in the Temple.

On my way home, I could not stop wondering about Joseph. His strange behavior and that feverish run after the Nazarene really marked the day. And why was he dressed like that?

The few words I had exchanged with the preacher had not affected me much. Sure, I felt some pity for him, not for being sentenced, for he had shown in the Temple that he was after all a violent man, but with the method of execution. Crucifixion was a truly horrible way to die, really worthy of the Romans, and the terror of any criminal. To be suspended on a wooden cross with large nails hammered through hands and feet, suffering unimaginable pain for hours and sometimes days... even the most insensitive person would shiver before such a prospect.

Who would have imagined, later in that vespertine hour, as we humbly prostrated in the sacred stones of the Temple, amid the thousands of devotees, listening to the sounds of the bleating lambs and the odors of the immolated meats, all part of that millennial celebration of our covenant with the Lord, that everything had now changed in our world.

In the following morning, a holiday since it was the _Shabbat_ of the _pesach_ , father woke up indisposed and did not come down to have his morning meal with us, staying in his room under the care of Ruth and her tisanes. The previous day had exhausted us all. Every year the city seemed to be more packed with pilgrims, and waiting our turn to sacrifice the lamb was a veritable exercise of patience and tolerance. It was not easy to be so devoted.

Isaac was also in his room, as there was no commercial activity in the Temple on _Shabbat_. He usually stayed at home or visited some friends in the afternoon, afterwards going to the Temple with father. I was not so zealous, and I preferred to spend these holidays with Ruth and my son Yeshua, or in mild conversations with our relatives and friends who used to come by the house.

I recall that during that night I had some weird dreams, where Romans, slaves and asses played some role, certainly influenced by recent events, and no doubt, also helped by the late digestion of the lamb of the _seder_.

"Ahasver," it was Benjamin calling, a distant cousin of Ruth who lived close to Caesarea and usually stayed with us during the festival, "a man called Joseph came by this morning looking for father Simon."

"So early? That's unusual. Did he leave any message for father?"

"No, no. He just asked whether father Simon was awake. He seemed very nervous, very upset. But he did mention that he would return later this afternoon."

It was not usual for people to pay visits so early in the morning of the _Shabbat_ , much less after the _seder_ , which usually lasted late into the night. But then again, his furtive way of yesterday had already left me apprehensive.

Later in the day, a languid and dry afternoon, I was in the terrace with Ruth and Yeshua when Joseph returned.

"Ahasver, may the peace be unto you on this _Shabbat_ ," he arrived coming towards me and embracing, also greeting Ruth and fondling Yeshua's hair.

"Reverend Joseph!" returning the customary greetings of the day.

"Father Simon went to the Temple?" he asked.

"Yes, he did, and Isaac too. I thought you might have gone with them."

"No. I am a bit tired today. If you don't mind, I'll rest a bit on this couch and keep you two company."

"Of course, do so."

I offered some refreshments, and we quietly talked of trivial matters. But Joseph was clearly agitated and morose. Ruth even questioned about his health, but his replies were vague and spaced with long silences.

"You went to Temple yesterday?" I asked.

"Yes" he muttered.

"We did not see you, reverend Joseph." commented Ruth.

"No, I was delayed," looking now at me, "and I went later than usual."

Another period of silence. Yeshua, who had until then been busy with whatever amuses small children, became more restless, and Ruth took him down to the courtyard to check on the horses, something that we all knew he enjoyed doing.

"Ahasver, that preacher, Yeshua, he was crucified yesterday," said Joseph suddenly.

"Yes, Joseph, I saw him pass by the shop."

"Of course. We met," he replied absent minded. "Ahasver, I am afraid that we have made a terrible mistake. It shouldn't have happened like that!"

"But Joseph, he was a violent man. He was rightfully judged by the Council."

"Don't you think that I know that? I also condemned him. It's true that he caused some upheaval in the Temple, we all know that, and he deserved to be punished, but no one deserves to die like that."

"You witnessed the execution? Did you really go all the way to that place? That terrible place..."

"Yes." He almost whispered.

"Did he suffer for long?"

"Any suffering is always too long. When we are in pain, time slows down. But he didn't last long on the cross, fortunately. The good Lord was merciful and took him. The other two were still alive when I left."

Crucifixions were really long and painful executions and the victims usually died of thirst rather than as a consequence of the pain or the loss of blood. A truly cruel penitence.

"Ahasver, I rescued the body. There was no one else. I gave some coins to the legionnaires, and with the help of some people that were standing there, I placed him in my tomb, which is not far from that cursed place. And I confess that I have lied also."

"You lied?" I asked amazed with such a spontaneous confession.

"Yes, I did not go to the Temple yesterday. I did not fulfill the rites. When I arrived home it was already too late for me to go."

"But Joseph, what's all this about? He was a criminal, you said so yourself."

"That, I must admit is a mystery to me too. When I think of it rationally, I really have no reason for behaving like that. But there was something more. Something that drove me to it. Stronger than reason, stronger than my will to go to Temple. Nothing at that moment seemed more urgent or more appropriate."

"Joseph, it doesn't make sense..."

"I know that, Ahasver. But I just couldn't leave the body lying there throughout the night to be tossed in the morning into any common grave for criminals, especially on a _Shabbat_. We all know how little the Romans respect our beliefs."

"Joseph, there are executions almost every week. Why worry so much for this particular one ? You didn't know the man."

But Joseph was apathetic. Irrational and he was speaking his own mind.

"After the _Shabbat_ I will go to look for a sepulcher for this preacher, Ahasver," he went on in an increasingly gloomy voice.

"Is this why you wanted to speak to father, early this morning?"

"Yes. I wanted to get it off my chest, share this with him. He has always been most helpful in my moments of doubt, uncertainty and sorrow. A true rock your father, Ahasver, always true and a firm believer in the faith."

"Father won't like it," I warned him, "and much less when he knows that you didn't go to Temple yesterday."

"I know that. A man of strong convictions, your father."

"He is a stubborn man, yes." I agreed with him.

"More than that, I'm afraid. I think that if he was any younger he would be a serious candidate for zealotry. But you, Ahasver, you are more like your mother. She was always the most tolerant of souls, always accepted the weaknesses of others. Always with words of comfort."

"You knew her well, Joseph?"

"Oh, yes. We were sort of relatives."

"I didn't know that. Father doesn't speak much of her."

"Yes, that is true. One of the few subjects that silence him."

Still baffled with Joseph's attitude and behavior, I went on.

"But we were talking of the Nazarene..."

"Yes."

"What did you see of different in him?"

"As I said, Ahasver. At first glance, nothing! As similar as all the other ascetics that come around to this city. But the difference is in his wordings. His teachings. What he spoke of, something new, different, and the more I think of it, the more wondrous it seems to me."

"But why? What's so special?"

"Life, Ahasver. The promise of an eternal life, something beyond the _sheol_. And at my age, it is something to look for. Can you imagine? Time is drifting by, getting us closer by the minute to our last moments in this world, and our way of living never prepares us for such a moment. Is there anything more tempting for an old man than to think that the end is just another stage, a stepping stone to something higher and more rewarding than life itself?"

"Joseph, I am not a sage, nor have I ever pretend to be one. I actually believe that my thoughts in those matters are pretty rudimentary, and I certainly couldn't recite as many sayings and passages of our Torah as Isaac can. I'm a plain man, a simple man. Such issues are complex, and many of the readings I hear are not too understandable to me. But I do know that you Saducees don't believe in the afterlife. Even father has doubts, as do many of the Pharisees. I personally find it hard to grasp such concepts."

"Ahasver, good sense is not exclusive to the learned and the highly schooled. The followers of Yeshua are mostly simple people."

"And doesn't that tells us something about his preaching? If there are no scholars or learned people in their midst, then it's because his sayings aren't appealing to more sophisticated minds."

"But the real truth seldom is complex or difficult to grasp."

"Well, I learned that we cannot go wrong by obeying the laws. How can we err when one follows the commands of the Lord?"

"I agree with you that the law is absolute, but men have a tendency to interpret them for their convenience and to suit their purpose."

"But those are learned men, who studied, and have been inspired by the Lord to be His interpreters. This Yeshua was an unknown. What do you really know of him and his accomplishments?"

"Even so, they are men like us. I know many of them, Ahasver. I know how fallible and weak most of them are. Man is a compulsive sinner who falls into the most obvious temptations and entrapments. Do you really believe that any of our _Kohanim_ would give their life for the sake of their beliefs or to defend their faith ? But Yeshua did. Ahasver, these times we live in are not the days of heroes. Those days of prophets of unshakable conviction and little learning are gone forever."

Truly, I had never known in detail the ideas and religious opinions of Joseph, and I was now amazed. I wondered if father shared some of these too. They had always been the best of friends, but I had never heard these same doubts from father, and much less any criticism about the _Kohanim_.

"So, Joseph, in your opinion, this Yeshua is some sort of a hero, a martyr."

"Well, at least he fought and conquered one of our most profound fears, the fear of death. His belief was stronger, and that is to be admired and revered. I only wish that one day I could have some of that faith."

And our conversation paused. We were both silent for some time, immersed in our own thoughts.

"Ahasver?"

"Yes, Joseph."

"Would you mind coming with me to my tomb, the day after tomorrow? I need to remove the corpse and look for another tomb. I don't think I can remove the stone door on my own, and I doubt that there will be anyone there who can help me. I certainly don't want to take any servants. They always prattle too much."

It was our custom to revisit the tombs of the recently deceased within three days after their death. An old and practical ritual which had saved countless lives before. The interred were not always truly dead.

"But of course, Joseph, I will go with you."

"Tomorrow I will look for another tomb. In that region there are always some for sale."

And that afternoon just drifted on, immersed in these momentous affairs, and soon enough, father and Isaac returned from the Temple, both surprised to find Joseph there. And the two of them went downstairs for a private talk, while Isaac interrogated me about Joseph and our conversations. But I wasn't up to repeat our dialogue.

As expected, Joseph did manage to purchase another small sepulcher close to his own, and sent me word that he would be waiting for me in the morning of the day after the _Shabbat_. Father, aware of the plan, was fearful with my involvement.

"You have to be careful, Ahasver. Joseph is not well, and it could be dangerous this enterprise of his."

"I see it as an act of charity, father." I replied.

"More an act of defiance. Let us not forget that his colleagues sentenced this man as a criminal. Who knows what may happen if word of this leaks out? A member of the Council showing charity to a heretic?"

"Would you prefer if I don't go ? He doesn't trust anyone else."

"No, of course you must go. He is a dear friend. All I am saying is that you both have to be discrete about it. Don't take a litter. Take one of the donkeys and wear something used. And see that Joseph does the same. Another thing, don't talk of this with Isaac. You know how he feels about this Nazarene."

Under a vermillion sky of the early morning, I took to Joseph's house, where I was already expected, and we both got on our way downtown with the two mules, making rapid progress through the empty streets. At that early hour, the city was still slumbering, and we soon reached the Gate of Ephraim where the few legionnaires on guard hardly noticed us.

We then proceeded to a small hill, where Joseph showed me the tomb he had purchased. It was a simple single-chamber sepulcher, dug into the hillside, and we spent some time cleaning it and getting the stone portal in place, ready to receive the preacher's corpse. And with everything ready we proceeded towards the northern side of the hill and to Joseph's tomb.

As we got closer to the site, we began to see some people walking down the path while others rushed by us climbing in the opposite direction.

"What's going on?" enquired Joseph from some of them.

But we were mostly ignored, and some, shrugging their shoulders, cried out. "The prophet has risen! The prophet has risen!"

"What was that?" I asked, "What are you saying?"

But no one stopped to give us further details. I looked at Joseph, but he was also puzzled, and we both stepped up our pace, pushed onwards by curiosity.

"What can it be, Joseph?"

"I really don't know, Ahasver," but I could see he was agitated.

Before we saw them, we heard the distinct sound of a crowd, and after passing a curve on the path, we came across a clearing partially hidden by some cypresses, where an unruly group was looking towards the cliff side.

"It's here?" I asked.

"Yes, on the left side. Come Ahasver."

But it wasn't easy to get across that assemblage.

"You go on, Joseph. I'll stay here and look after the mules."

Still people continued to arrive and a few others leaving, everyone curious. I was curious too. What could all these people be doing at this hour in that dreary place, so far from any road? And they kept on about the dead man, and I finally understood that they were talking about the Nazarene, and that the body was not in the tomb. Some were claiming that he had risen from the dead, while others opined that the tomb had been profaned.

From the crowd, Joseph returned, now in the company of two women and a youngster, stuttering incoherently that he had really risen.

"Who are they?" I asked pointing to the others.

"They are followers of Yeshua. They helped me place the corpse here, and they had asked to come today to prepare the body for burial. Ahasver, I need one of those torches. We need to look inside the tomb."

"But, Joseph, what are all these people doing here ?"

But the women grabbed him once again and pulled him into the crowd.

I got a torch from the saddlebag, and pushing my way through, I followed them up to the entrance of the sepulcher. I could see that it was open, and on the sandy floor there were large chunks of broken rock that must have come from the stone door that was used to seal the entrance. Lighting it and holding up the torch, I cautiously entered the first chamber, probing the shadows for any evidence of what had happened there, but I could see nothing unusual. It was empty. Moving on to the second, the actual burial chamber, I then saw under the tremulous light, a piece of cloth, a cape or some a sort of robe. Suddenly, pushed inwards by some of the more inquisitive onlookers who were following me, I dropped the torch, and once again deep blackness invaded that recess. Since I could not find the torch again, I pushed my way towards the dim light of the entrance, bringing with me the piece of cloth that I had found.

Joseph was at the entrance with the same two women and asked me in a low voice.

"The corpse is not there?"

"No, nothing. Just this piece of cloth."

This confirmation prodded the women into new and incoherent exclamations. Turning to Joseph, I asked.

"And now?"

"Ahasver, I don't know what to tell you or what to do!" he answered in a short burst of indecisiveness.

"Someone must have taken the body," I suggested.

This was heard by the youngster, who indignantly responded.

"No one took the body. The Messiah has risen, resurrected, just as He announced He would do."

Once again I looked to Joseph who seemed rattled by this revelation.

"Joseph, it's obvious that the body was removed. Look at all the stones by the entrance. That door was broken, and no one could do it single-handed, or without some tools," and I added, "even if this preacher was not dead when you placed him in the chamber, it would have been impossible to break the door from the inside."

"But Ahasver, who could have done it? Who knew that he was here?"

"These women knew," I said pointing them out.

"Did you speak of this to anyone?" asked Joseph from them, "we had an understanding. No one was to know about this tomb."

"We did tell some of our brothers," confessed one of them.

"Where are they now?" I asked.

"In our camp. They're waiting for us to return."

"Joseph, only they could have done it. Who else had any interest in this?"

But the women were adamant.

"But don't you understand?" asked the eldest in a frantic voice, "He has risen. The prophecy has been fulfilled!"

"What nonsense!" I couldn't stop saying.

"Listen to me, Ahasver. They told me that this would happen, but I didn't believe them."

"Joseph that can't be true. Listen to yourself!"

"Ahasver, he did bring some people back from death. Everyone saw it."

"Where was that?"

More people continued to arrive, and the noise was now louder than ever.

"In several places where he preached."

"Tall tales, Joseph."

"I don't think so. Not anymore. I told you. This preacher was special. I always felt it. All this was prophesied before!" and Joseph was now fully aroused, "and see, if he brought the dead to life, then why not himself?"

"Joseph, I told you. Most probably it's the work of raiders, bandits. They saw the tomb closed, no guards close by... a tomb recently used, and they broke the door and pillaged it," but I was guessing. I really did not know what else to tell him, and Joseph wasn't even listening to me anymore, now busy in deep confabulations with the two women.

In truth that was an unlikely scenario. That necropolis always had some vigilance, and there hadn't been talk of any tombs being broken into for many years. I believed that it was very unlikely that the Nazarene was still alive when the Romans brought him down from the cross. They knew their business, so the most obvious explanation was that someone had removed the body. Nothing else made any sense, despite the denials of those women who kept saying that not even the preacher's closest followers knew where the tomb was located.

Given the level of the noise of the crowd, soon some guards arrived and started to disperse everyone.

"Joseph, we have to go. There's nothing to do here," and I grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the others towards our mules. But the women followed us and gave him the cloth that I had retrieved from the tomb.

"Here, please take your robe. He is amongst us now, he won't need it."

And let me confess, at that point I even thought of the absurdity of someone getting out of a sepulcher and walking away naked!

"Where are you going now?" asked Joseph from them.

"We are going back to our place and spread this joyous news to our brothers and to all", said the youngest.

"Yes, we have to bear witness to this most exalted event."

"As the scriptures foretold!"

"He truly is the Messiah, sent by the Lord to save us all."

"Woe to the sinners and the unbelievers for the day of judgment is upon us."

And they went on in this vein.

"Ahasver, I am going with them too," Joseph suddenly told me, "won't you come with us?"

"No, Joseph. What can you mean... I cannot .. to do what ?"

"Know more about this prophet! Can't you see, Ahasver? He resurrected from the dead. Everything is possible now, all is different."

"Joseph, it's too dangerous. Can't you see how fanatical they are? You have to be careful. What if someone recognizes you?"

"Ahasver, you are not listening to me! Nothing of that means much now, not when we are close to the end of days and our final judgment."

"Joseph please. Don't go. Come with me. I'll take you home. You need to think this over. Speak with father. You are not thinking straight."

But it was useless. Seeing that he couldn't persuade me to follow him, and afraid to lose track of the women, he just went off and left me with the animals. And under the inquisitive gaze of the Romans, I took my leave from that ghastly place and went to work.

"Father have you heard of what happened today?" I asked later in that afternoon as I joined him in the terrace.

"Yes, Joseph told me all about it."

"Joseph was here ?"

"I met him in the Temple, this afternoon. He was most enthusiastic about that preacher."

"Do you think it's possible, that he is alive?"

"Of course not. It's absurd, and I said so to Joseph. But I was not that surprised to hear that the body is missing."

"How come?"

"Joseph told me that they believe that his death was predicted by the scriptures. Also, that the preacher knew and accepted the inevitability of his own death. His rise from death would prove his divinity beyond any doubt, and would also bring on the days of judgment and reckoning. If the body had been found in the tomb, then it would be the end of that sect. Now, without the body, his followers can go on with their preaching and claim whatever they want to impress the ignorant and the credulous."

"I did tell Joseph that someone had removed the body."

"That's my thinking too, but Joseph is skeptical. Really, I don't understand him. I've never seen him like this, I can tell you, Ahasver, that I'm worried. He is not old enough to be going senile."

"Do you know if he spoke to the _Kohanim_ about this?"

"No, I don't think so. I don't think he will either. After all, they are the ones who condemned this preacher."

"And if this Nazarene is seen again by someone?"

"Do you believe that to be possible?"

"No, I don't. It's as I said, neither the prophet nor the body will ever be seen again. They got rid of that corpse, for sure."

In truth we did not hear anything more about this episode. Despite some far fetched rumors that popped up from time to time, this Messianic movement seemed to have faded away, just as it had happened before to others.

THE MERCHANT

Year 34

Joseph, an usual visitor to the house, increasingly became a rarer presence. He was still meeting with father, usually in the Temple, but we could see that the relationship between them had become strenuous. What they had in common, had weakened, and we were taken aback when it was known that Joseph had resigned from the Council.

"He is rarely at Temple, these days. I met him the other day, and he hardly spoke to me. This news about his resignation, I had to hear it from someone else."

"But why did he do it?"

"They told me that lately he had altercations with some of his colleagues, and it was suggested that he resigns. To top it all, I've heard that he has given shelter to some of those followers of the Nazarene."

"The one who was to rise from the dead?"

"That's the one. Do you that some are saying that he was seen after his execution. Seen alive, that is."

"Who said that? Joseph?"

"No, not him. I heard it from someone."

"He should appear at the Temple. That would be a sight to see," I said jokingly.

"Don't blaspheme, Ahasver. You know I don't like it."

"Sorry, father."

"I can't understand Joseph. A man who has devoted all his life to the service of the Lord and the Temple, and now joins this sect of heretics. Even Gamaliel was telling me the other day, how strange Joseph was behaving now, almost a recluse. It's not only me who he has been ignoring."

I could see that this incongruence was really affecting father. It was an unexpected and unmerited behavior from someone who had been close for so many years, and not just in their professional life, but on an almost daily basis.

"This sect is an abomination. People are saying that the preacher commanded them to drink blood during their rituals, although some also say that it's just wine. Even worse, there are rumors that some Judaeans are now following them too. Apparently, Joseph is not the only Saducee or Pharisee that has joined with them."

"Anyone we know?"

"Just between us, I heard of Nicodemus Ben Gurion. But don't mention it to anybody. It could be just slander."

"Do I know him?"

"He has been here at the house a few times. He's a good friend of Joseph and also a member of the Council."

"I would never have imagined it, father, how Joseph could be so credulous."

"Ahasver, you know I don't believe in such things, but I've often wondered if somehow they could have cast him a spell."

"How can you think that, father?"

"I know. But I can't think of any reasonable motive for Joseph to have adhered to this sect. And, let me tell you, this idea is not as improbable as it sounds. There are precedents."

"I find that hard to believe."

But father would rather believe in mysterious and reasons of the occult than in the simple credulousness of his old friend.

Later on, I learned that most of the followers of the Nazarene had disbanded after his death. Some had returned to their homes after the festival, others stayed in the city, and a few went off to preach in towns and villages throughout the province.

We also came to know that Joseph had provided some of them with a place to stay in one of his buildings on mount Zion, where they also met to perform their rites. Apparently, this building was now a place of veneration for them, claimed as one of the places where their messiah appeared to his disciples and followers after his death, thus fulfilling one of his divine promises.

It was after that moment when these same followers started to spread the words and tales of Yeshua throughout the city, concealed in remote alleys and the more peripheral neighborhoods. In these groupings they preached to anyone, naive enough to listen, of the wondrous life of the prophet, his deeds and his teachings, in simple words and stories for all to understand, as most of their listeners were uneducated and credulous folk.

But none of this was as much of a surprise to father, as the fact that the movement was still alive. It was not normal. In examples that he provided to us, all such sects and cults, born under the leadership of more or less enlightened leaders, had faded away into oblivion after the disappearance of the original instigator.

So, one had to wonder what was different with these.

One morning, a few months after the incident at the tomb of Joseph, I was on my way to the shop when I was accosted by a man with a rather peculiar aspect, sporting a short beard and wearing a dark tunic of rough tow and without a cloak.

"May peace be unto thee." He saluted.

I returned the greeting and waited for him to state his business.

"You are Master Ahasver, son of Simon?" he asked.

"Yes, and who might you be?"

"My name is Simeon, son of Clopas. I was sent by Joseph of Arimathea who asks that you visit him tomorrow at his home."

It had been some time since I had last heard of Joseph.

"Is your Master in good health?" I enquired politely.

"He is not my Master. He is our brother in the true faith."

"What are you talking about?"

"The faith in Yeshua, the Messiah. The One who was put to death by men and resurrected by the Lord for the redemption of our sins."

"You are a follower of Yeshua? " he was the first that I had met, "and you are saying that Yeshua really rose from the dead? Did you see him?"

"All of us, His companions, have seen and felt His presence and His power."

"Joseph too?" I couldn't stop my curiosity.

"Joseph is one of our most devoted brothers."

Why the invitation, and in this manner, I was wondering. Joseph knew where I lived. Why had he asked this Nazarene to approach me in the street? I was curious, I must admit, and could it be true that Joseph had seen the Nazarene preacher after we found that empty tomb?"

"Very well, tomorrow I will call on Joseph, after I close shop," and casting a last look and salutation, I continued on my way.

Joseph's house was an elaborate affair, located on the southern side of mount Zion, with a great view of the southern walls and the fields that spread up to the horizon. It had four levels and was foremost a house for business, rather than just a residence. In the enormous terrace, he had built several pergolas laden with luxuriant plants, vines and flowery creepers. Despite an almost fortress-like appearance, at least for those who looked at it from the outside, the house was filled with many architectural details, mostly of Greek inspiration, and also a rich set of furniture and floor mosaics, adornments common to the wealthier since the time of the great Herod.

Received by a porter, I was taken to the terrace where Joseph and two other men were deep in conversation, interrupted by my arrival. One of these was the same Simeon who I had met the day before.

"Ahasver! May the peace be with you, my dear friend." Said Joseph, embracing me.

I answered his kind greeting, and replied also addressing the others who were now looking at me suspiciously, and clearly annoyed with the interruption.

"Ahasver, this is Simeon and Stephen, brothers in the faith of our lord Yeshua."

I acknowledged them and sat in one of the couches.

"Joseph, I don't know the reason for this call, but I do hope that we are not going to be talking about your preacher. You know that I do not share your belief, and much less do I believe in the divinity of this prophet of yours. I am here at your call because of our friendship and my respect for you."

"This is the brother who spoke to the Messiah on the way to the crucifixion?" asked Stephen.

"Yes, yes. Ahasver, I understand what you are saying," replied Joseph, "but what we have to talk today is very important. Please listen," and sitting down he quickly added, "the Sanhedrin is deliberating my arrest. I have been accused of collusion and of defending the teachings of the Messiah."

I was surprised that the Sanhedrin was taking such a radical step, but in view of his militancy, I could understand the reasoning behind their decision.

"Have you? I mean, have you been preaching heresies?"

"No, but the movement has been proscribed as heretical. Everyone who is seen to be associated may be sentenced for sedition and heresy."

"Everyone?"

"Well, Judaeans at least. No one cares much for what the Gentiles think anyway," replied Simeon.

"They want to arrest Joseph because he has spoken on our behalf and they want to silence him," added Stephen, "he is an embarrassment to the Council."

"If he is caught advocating our teachings he could be accused of blasphemy too. And we all know what that means."

"But how do you know all this?" I asked Joseph.

"Well, Ahasver, I still have some friends..."

"But Joseph, if you know all this, why not leave the city for a while? You have properties and businesses in other places."

"Run away ? No, never. If I did that would be an admission of guilt and shame, and a denial of my faith. That would never do."

"There is more, brother Ahasver," observed Stephen earnestly, "if Joseph is accused and brought to trial before the Council, it will be an unique opportunity for us to spread the teachings of the Messiah before those councilors and the crowds that usually follow such trials. Imagine that!"

But they are fanatics! I immediately thought. They are willing to sacrifice Joseph so that the sayings of a heretic may be repeated to a number of judges and sages of the law. What could they hope to achieve?

"This is all very upsetting, truly. But what can I do, Joseph?" I asked, not yet understanding what was expected of me, "Do you need me to testify on your behalf?"

"No Ahasver, nothing like that. On the contrary, I don't want you involved in this quandary. But I do need you."

"Well, you know you can count on me for anything. Just don't ask me to place my family in jeopardy. I couldn't do that."

"Nothing like that, I assure you," and he went on, "but I do need you to come to work for me."

"But Joseph, we have spoken of that before. I have my business, my shop. I can't just leave it. It would be a blow to father."

"Yes, I am aware of all that, but my proposal is plainly simple. I will buy your business, and you can come to work here. You just let me know how much you want for it, and I'll pay. Simple as that."

"Joseph, that's just crazy. Name a value, you say? I don't know. I have no idea."

"Ahasver, please listen. I have no family as you know, but I do know you and yours for many years. I know how honest and capable you and your brother are. And both of you will be more than able of running this business. You are diligent and a hard worker, and your brother is well known for his accounting abilities. I could not wish for better partners."

"Isaac? You have spoken with Isaac?"

"Not yet. I wanted first to talk with you. Besides, I think it will be difficult to take Isaac away from his money changing business, but he can give you some help, especially in the beginning."

"I don't know Joseph. I have to think on all this."

"Of course you do. But I truly believe it will be for the best. I know you were not happy with the shop, you told me so a few times. Now you have a new opportunity."

But I was reluctant. It would be a very demanding job. Joseph's businesses were spread throughout Judaea and also in Samaria and Galilee. Even in cities and places further away.

"I think he is afraid to get involved, Joseph" said Stephen, with a curt smile.

"That's not it at all," I replied, "had I been afraid, I wouldn't have come here today. Joseph, as I said, let me think about it and also talk to father and Isaac. It's the only thing I can promise at this point."

"Sure, Ahasver. I did not expect an answer right away. But be quick. I don't know how much time I have left, and we do have a few things to prepare before."

"Brother Joseph, is it not relevant at this point to let brother Ahasver know of your dispositions with the brotherhood?"

"In good time, brother Simeon."

"What do you mean?" I asked, "What arrangements are those?"

"Ahasver, I will tell you later."

"No, Joseph. I need to know. I think it's important. If there are conditions that involve the Messianics, I would rather know them now than later."

"Messianics?" asked Stephen, "Is that what they are calling us now? Did you hear that, brother Simeon?"

"Yes, I have heard it before, brother" answered Simeon.

"Very well, Ahasver, I will tell you now. I have been contributing to the movement, mainly to ensure that the teachings of our Messiah reaches other places and other peoples, as He commanded us to do. Some of the brothers have already left the city to do exactly that. I want it to continue, and for that we will need funds."

"You have been giving them money?"

"Yes, Ahasver. We do not have temples nor a _korban_ , so we depend on the donations of our wealthier brothers. Unfortunately, we are few, and most of us do not have many means. Another thing, some of my properties here in the city are currently being used by the brotherhood. This must also continue as is, and that's all there is to it."

"I understand, Joseph."

"Think carefully, my friend. The risk is minimal for you, and I am prepared to be very generous with both of you. I believe that you won't regret it. And if you are reluctant in selling the shop, then don't. Rent it to someone. I might not even stay in jail for a long time."

"But Joseph, if you are formally accused of heresy, won't you risk being stoned?"

"That will never happen. I do have some guarantees. Ahasver, these things are all thought out long before anything actually happens. This will be just another political case involving Caiaphas and his drive for power. I have hurt his pride. He was so very proud of getting the Messiah convicted and will never stomach that a former member of the Council has now challenged him, especially one as close to Gamaliel as I am."

"Are you saying that all this has little to do with our faith?"

"Almost nothing. Caiaphas, despite all his rumblings, believes that the movement is moribund and will not last long after the death of the Messiah."

"In the meantime, we will continue to spread the word, do some conversions and get new followers, right brother Simeon?" added Stephen with an air of satisfaction.

"Brother Stephen, I have already told you before. We cannot measure our success just by the number of new sympathizers," answered Simeon sternly, "our main task is to convert the hearts and souls of men."

"But, brother Simeon, a conversion is the most irrefutable proof of the belief in our Lord Yeshua. What good comes of converting hearts if people do not change their old habits and practices ?"

"Brothers, please," asked Joseph, "may we speak of this later?" and turning again to me, "Ahasver, this is my offer and my most humble request, my good friend. I do hope you will accept. Please do."

Such a proposal was certainly very tempting. It would certainly benefit me in many ways, and not just in terms of money. The only blemish was this association with the Nazarenes. But there was little more to add at that point, and I left them deep with their plans for the coming days.

Needless to say, that at home everyone was very surprised with the news. I don't know if more confounded about Joseph's imminent predicament, or with the proposal he had made to me.

Isaac, a skeptic at first, soon changed his mind and gave me his support after I told him that he would be a part of the deal and would certainly earn some serious money for his labors. Father, however, was less enthusiastic, aghast with the news about Joseph.

"I don't like it, Ahasver. Not a bit! If Joseph is arrested for being a member of this sect, who knows what the Sanhedrin will do? And even if they do nothing, how will we be seen in the midst of all this? They will see us as supporters or sympathizers of a heretic. Have you thought this through?"

But with the help of Isaac we managed to surpass this objection. But he kept on.

"Ahasver has this something to do with you and those followers of the Nazarene?"

"What do you mean, father?"

"Have you gone over to their side?"

"Father!?"

"I don't know. I simply cannot understand this proposal of Joseph."

"Do you really think that I would sell my convictions for money?" I challenged him.

He didn't reply, thankfully, or defy my assertion, so he presented one last argument.

"Ahasver, can you really do it ? You are not experienced in that sort of business. You have never dealt in bulk trading and have never been involved in such a large enterprise," and looking at me and Isaac, he added, "and see here, boys, Joseph's business is huge and goes beyond Jerusalem and even Judaea. What if it goes wrong ? What if you do some serious damages and lose deals ? Who is responsible ? Don't come asking me to fund your follies. It would be very wise to get all this well talked over with Joseph," and still going on, he added a final touch, "that man has gone crazy!"

If I didn't get his full support, neither did I have his total disapproval. Certainly there were a lot of issues and even legalities to clear, and a few talks with Joseph and Isaac solved most of these doubts. It was a risk, but not a major one. My own business had never been too prosperous and considering all, I finally accepted Joseph's offer.

The only thing I kept from Isaac were the dispositions that I undertook to carry on for the Nazarenes. It would have certainly upset him and made it all more difficult for me. Sometimes, ignorance is the best medicine.

Year 35

For some time, I received no further news of the Nazarenes, although I knew that they would eventually call for their money. I knew of their activities, rumors of their preaching in town, and Isaac also told me that they had started to go into the Temple in small groupings to preach under the very eyes of the _Kohanim_. And they eventually came, announcing themselves as companions of Joseph and bringing a letter from him.

It was Simeon, who I had met previously in that same house.

"Master Ahasver, I bring you this message from Joseph. He asked that it be delivered to you after his arrest."

Opening the roll of parchment, I could see that it was indeed Joseph's meticulous handwriting. In this letter, Joseph reminded me of my promise to abide by his wishes, and enumerated them: to provide the brotherhood with a monthly stipend; to provide shelter in his properties to any of their faith who may need it; not to persecute or dismiss any servant or employee who converted to their faith; to help in any way possible any of the brothers who might be accused or arrested for their religious convictions; and a few more. He ended his message by once again reminding me of my pledge, and that he hoped to welcome me soon into their brotherhood.

"Everything is perfectly alright, Simeon. I did promise, and I will do my part. But tell me, how is Joseph? Have you received any news from him lately?"

"Not recently, but we know and believe that all is well. Notwithstanding his ordeal, I am sure that he is in our Lord's grace and comforted in the darkest hours of his anguish..."

It was curious to see how these recent adepts to that sect were now starting to speak with the same flamboyance and embellishments as the most experienced priests.

"Very well. I can give you now this month's allowance. I do have it here with me," quickly interrupting him before he continued with that litany.

"We deeply appreciate it, Master Ahasver. Some of our brothers will soon be leaving for Caesarea, and others want to go even further, maybe to Syria. We are all committed to spreading the word of our Messiah to the Judaeans of the world and to set them on the right path to salvation, redemption and..." once more preaching.

I did not care for knowing more of their plans, and I had already decided that the less I knew the better, and once again I cut him short.

"Is it you, Simeon, who will come every month to collect this money?"

"My mission is to stay in Jerusalem, preaching the word to all who want salvation..."

"Very well then, I'll look forward to seeing you soon..." I interrupted again.

"Maybe someone else might come, Master Ahasver."

"I don't think it wise to hand such an amount to anyone who calls on me. I suggest that whoever comes to collect, brings this same letter."

"We will do as you suggest. Very wise, yes. But, maybe you could come and visit us one of these days, Master Ahasver. We are for the moment staying in that house that brother Joseph has kindly made available for our use."

I knew where it was. Joseph had told me all about it, but I certainly had no wish to visit them anytime soon.

"Who knows, Simeon, I just might do that one of these days."

I must explain here, that I was never a person who lied easily. But one of the foremost abilities to manage a business was the art of ambiguity, repeatedly taught to me by my brother Isaac. And if he, a much more devoted person than I ever was, used it daily in the Temple itself, I felt justified to do the same.

With time, I became more confident with my abilities in running Joseph's businesses, and Isaac assured me repeatedly that all was going relatively well. And if I had any doubts, all I needed to do was look at the Publicans' contentment when they came around to collect their dues. Although I was fairly fluent with Greek _koine_ and latin, I decided to further my studies in these languages, as many of our regular customers were unfamiliar with our Aramaic tongue.

After all the incidents and events of the recent past, Jerusalem now seemed to be a much calmer town. Signs of prosperity were plainly visible to all, and the Temple continued to attract an ever growing number of pilgrims, and not just during the religious festivals. Gradually, I was also able to dissuade father from his assumptions about myself, not only in regard to my capability with running the business, but also about my religious beliefs, especially in regard to my sympathies for the Nazarenes.

But they were still very much present, discreetly preaching in the Temple, in small gatherings under the colonnades, and also in the more remote alleys down in the city, busily and peacefully trying to convert the more naive. In truth, we hadn't yet heard of any disturbances or commotions provoked by them. So it came as a surprise to hear that the Sanhedrin was once more going to bring one of them to trial, and his name was Stephen.

Immediately, I reckoned that I had to find out if this Stephen was the same man that I had met before. There was a risk that I could get involved or charged with complicity in all this. But I also had to be very discreet. The general mood had turned, and suddenly everyone was again very antagonistic towards the sect.

I thought it dangerous to send someone to ask for Simeon, the only other Nazarene that I had met so far, so cloaked under some circumspect clothing, I took myself to visit them at the house that Joseph had provided.

This place was also on mount Zion but on the opposite side to Joseph's house. It was a solid stony construction with a longish facade and two floors. It looked like some kind of warehouse, but the top floor had an array of windows which showed that it also had some living quarters.

Carefully watching the movement in the street, which at that late hour was negligible, I quickly walked to the enormous front door and knocked heavily. To my surprise, the door suddenly opened, and I was forcefully pulled inside. In the half-light of an enormous chamber, I found myself surrounded by three burly men.

"Who are you? I don't know you," said one of them, "and what do you want here?" grabbing my arm while the others carefully watched me.

"My name is Ahasver. I am looking for Simeon ben Clopas. Is he here?" I asked as I pulled my sleeve away from his grasp.

They exchanged some looks, and one of them asked.

"What's your business with him?"

"I need to speak to him. He knows me. Call him if he is around. Tell Simeon that Ahasver wants to speak with him now. As I said, he knows me."

In the meanwhile, one of them went off to the front door, and opening it slightly, peeked out into the street.

"There's no one else outside" he said calmly.

"Right. You wait here. I am going to call Simeon" said the earlier one, departing into the shadows.

It didn't take long to hear hurried steps coming in our direction.

"You come with me," and turning towards the others he explained, "Simeon says he knows him, and it's alright for him to go up."

Surrounded by two of them, I climbed the large stairs that lead to the top floor coming to a large room partially illuminated by a brazier in one of the corners where some more men were standing, and I recognized Simeon.

"Welcome, Master Ahasver," he greeted amiably, "we were not expecting visitors at this hour, and much less such a distinguished one as yourself." and turning to the others, he explained, "This gentleman is Master Ahasver, brother Joseph's successor and our friend. I believe I have spoken of him to some of you."

With everyone now calmer and more anxious, I saluted them too.

"Simeon, I am truly sorry to intrude on you at this hour, but I was told that one of your brethren has been arrested and stands for trial any day now."

"Yes, brother Stephen, whom I believe you have met."

"I'm sorry for him, but I fear there might be repercussions for myself and Joseph's business if he talks of our agreement. I would like to know, and Joseph would also want me to, if there is anything we can do for him. Money, anything..."

Well, I must admit that my main fear was to be personally implicated if the Nazarene talked too much. I had no idea of how the Sanhedrin interrogated such dissidents.

"It's kind of you, Master Ahasver, but there is nothing we can do for brother Stephen at this point. He is in the Lord's hand. And be assured, Stephen will not inform on any brother."

Truthfully, I was not much assured by his words. But what else could I do? I asked if they knew whether a date for the trial had already being set, but they were not aware of it. They told me that he was caught preaching to some Greeks, as Stephen was very fluent in that language, and was now accused of spreading heretical ideas.

Not having much else to speak to them, I began with my farewells, as it was also dark night outside. I never liked to walk the streets at night. A phobia of mine, I guess. But then, one of the others came up to me.

"Master Ahasver, my name is Cephas, and I am a truly blessed man for I was one of the first disciples of our lord Yeshua. Simeon once told me that you met our Messiah and even exchanged some words with Him on His way to the cross."

But those were not words to be repeated there, for sure.

"Yes, that is true. I saw him on the way to his execution. He was hobbling and fell right in front of where I was standing, and dropped the wooden plank he was carrying. He asked for some water, but I could not help him."

"You didn't?" one of the others asked indignantly.

"I could not!" I replied sharply.

"Calm down, brothers," advised Cephas, "but tell us, did you feel His divine grace?"

A strange question. How does one feel such a thing?

"To be honest, I don't know what you mean," and instead of shutting up, I went on frowning, "what are you talking about?"

"The Lord's Spirit. All of us here have experienced it, and were blessed with such grace. We had a revelation in this very house after He resurrected."

I wondered if these were the ones who claimed to have seen him after his death.

"He appeared to you? In this house?" I asked doubtfully.

"Yes, we all saw Him, in the splendor of His greatness."

"And signs of fire and flames" someone else added fervently.

"We all exalted His glory in mysterious and unknown tongues."

"Well, I certainly didn't perceive any such feelings, I can assure you" I replied amused with such elaborate demonstrations.

"You felt nothing?" asked Cephas once again, inconsolable with my answer.

"I felt pity, that I did. No one deserves such a severe punishment and death. Trust the Romans to invent such torments."

"But surely you know that it wasn't just the Romans who condemned Him. It was us all ! All of us had a hand in it, and for us He suffered in the cross, and with His suffering, all men are now redeemed. So it was written, and so it had to happen for our own salvation."

How insistent and prolix they were with that idea.

"I understand your devotion, but I am a Judaean, a faithful follower of the laws of Moses, as written down in our sacred Torah" I added before they could get on with further enunciations.

"Our most urgent mission, Master Ahasver, is to spread the word of our lord Yeshua, as was His will. Let me assure you that we will continue with this holy task, even if we all have to give our lives for this purpose. We were twelve disciples in the beginning, for the twelve tribes of the Judaea, and our land will be filled with the knowledge of the Redeemer, as the waters cover the oceans, so it shall be, as was written and prophesied by the prophet Isaiah."

"One day we might convert you too, Master Ahasver" offered Simeon meekly.

"Who knows?" I complemented ambiguously.

"I have no doubt," said Cephas, "you have been a faithful friend of Joseph and also our friend. The grace of our lord Yeshua will be with you forever."

Thankfully, we stopped at that point. I was beginning to think that they would retain me there until I converted to their creed, but I finally escaped unto the street and hurried back home, under cover of a moonless night.

Stephen was judged and almost immediately was stoned to death by an unruly mob that had gathered as he was taken to the Pretorium. This time, it was not necessary to involve the Romans. The Sanhedrin has learned to arouse the crowd and allowed religious fanaticism to carry out the sentence.

Fanatics killing one another.

Curiously, it was also at this same time that the Nazarenes started to show themselves even more. Stephen's death did not seem to intimidate them, nor did it deviate them from their tasks of converting other Judaeans to their cult.

Simeon was still coming by the house every month, volunteering information about their activities. He was especially proud of the many converts they had gathered in the city, and in other cities throughout Judaea and Galilee. He also told me that part of the money that Joseph had given to them was being used to pay the scribes who were annotating Yeshua's words. He claimed that their oral preaching was adequate for the city, but they feared that distance and time would distort the true words of their messiah.

He also asked me if I could send some money to their brethren in Caesarea and Damascus, knowing that Joseph also had businesses in those cities. I didn't know the person in charge of the emporium in Damascus, but I managed to transfer some funds through an associate banker and friend of Isaac. I was not too happy with that, but I kept my promise to Joseph.

In the meanwhile, the Sanhedrin kept on debating over the legality of the activities of the Nazarenes and the nefarious influence they were spreading in the city. The more moderate of them still defended some tolerance towards the sect, after all they were Judaeans, just misguided in their faith. But it turned out that what had been the pride of Simeon — the number of proselytes who had succumbed to the cult — was also the reason invoked by the Council to prohibit, once and for all, their preaching, and declaring the movement to be heretical, blasphemous and enemies of the true faith.

Under such conditions, my own situation was perilous. My connections and the financing of their activities were now a personal risk and dangerous for the businesses themselves. I questioned myself on what Joseph would do, since I wasn't able to visit him on those days, but deep down I knew that he wouldn't falter with his pledge. Nevertheless I took some measures to minimize the risk. First, in relation to the house that they were occupying on mount Zion, I managed to pass the ownership to Ioanis, one of my more faithful employees and a Gentile, so the Sanhedrin wouldn't touch him if they found out. It wasn't a difficult task once you greased some publican's hands. The other issue, was the monthly transfer of funds, and once again I used Ioanis to deliver the money to their house.

At this point my regular contact with the Nazarenes ended. I still sporadically heard of them, altercations somewhere in the city, some conversions, but not much else. But the Sanhedrin turned out not to be too efficient with this purge, since there was no unanimity within the Council and some advocated a more cautious approach since many of the Romans and the Gentiles did not look favorably on religious persecutions, especially when these were among Judaeans themselves. For all purposes, the Nazarenes were to everyone else just another sect of Judaeans.

Father Simon, also became less intolerant in regard to the Nazarenes, although he never ceased from criticizing Joseph for the option he had taken, and his unyielding attitudes in benefit of the sect. It was something beyond his grasp and understanding, the negation of a lifetime of subservience to the dictates of the Mosaic Law. And so he passed away, with no apparent illness, laying in his favorite couch in his cherished terrace. Quietly he was gone, a departure as peaceful and serene as the smile he left us on his lips.

Isaac, inconsolable and now the only one residing in the new house, came to live with us for a while.

Year 36

It was during the period of mourning for father that I received news from one of our emporiums about a great upheaval and an insurrection in Samaria. The details were scarce, but once again we heard talk of another Messianic prophet. But it was severe enough to affect trading and some of the activities in the region.

Pilate this time acted promptly. He took some of his troops from Caesarea, mainly the cavalry, and marched northwards where he violently fought and destroyed the majority of the rebels. There was talk of hundreds, even thousands, of deaths, and the actual Governor of Syria, Lucius Vitelius, had to intervene personally to stop his indiscriminate killing spree. Such relentless violence had its consequences, and Pilate was dismissed by the Governor and taken to Rome for trial. With his dismissal we soon had a new Prefect, Marcellus.

Now, without Pilate's support, Caiaphas was also dismissed by Antipas and replaced by a new High Priest, Jonathan, his brother-in-law and son of the old but still powerful Annas.

THE PATRON

Year 37

The Sanhedrin, still not totally recovered from the dismissal of Caiaphas, and also in unfamiliar ground with the new Prefect, decided to call a meeting to which I was also summoned. It would be my first time before the Council, and I to admit that I was nervous, more so as the summons did not explicitly state the reason for my presence.

In that afternoon, as I arrived at the large meeting chamber, I found some colleagues and even some of my competitors, as well as the usual number of priests, scribes and a profusion of functionaries. The hall was filled with the richest and the more illustrious of the city.

As there was not enough space for all to be seated, we gathered in small groups awaiting for the arrival of the main councilors, the _Nasi_ Gamaliel and the High Priest Jonathan.

"Gentlemen," called out Jonathan who had suddenly arrived amidst a host of functionaries, and not even sitting down, continued, "we thank you all for your presence here today," and turning to Gamaliel, he ceded the word and discreetly exited the room without further ado.

I had seen Gamaliel on several occasions at Joseph's house, the respected head of a much prestigious family of sages and interpreters of the laws. His family had occupied the presidency of the Council for many years, and despite his fame and rank, I had always admired his restrained, agreeable nature and courtesy to all. A laudable and rare quality in the mighty and powerful.

"We have asked for your presence here to announce the imminent visit of the illustrious Governor of Syria. It will take place during the next harvest festival. It is the wish and the will of this Council, and also of our most noble Tetrarch Antipas, to hold a magnificent reception for this most exalted personage, as a token of our gratitude for his recent intervention against the heretics and rebels in Samaria and Galilee."

And looking over the assembly, he carried on.

"To guarantee a most dignified event, we would like to count on your full support, and a small pecuniary contribution. A committee has been formed to define the necessary values and once again I endear you to cooperate fully with us on this important matter."

If, on the one hand, I felt flattered for being included in such a distinct group, on the other hand, I could foresee the cost of such a privilege. In truth, life has amply shown me that the more we have, the less we like to give away.

Gamaliel did not add much to this initial speech, and soon afterwards he also left the chamber followed by his acolytes, other judges and councilors, leaving the committee to do its work. There had been no time and space for any counter arguments or discussions. They had decided to hold the feast, and someone would now have to pay for it.

There are those who claim that Judaeans talk too much. It is not true, we just discuss a lot. Especially when the subject is about voluntary contributions. The committee only had a list of names and the total amount that was deemed necessary to hold the reception. So I was not at all surprised when at the end, long after the beginning, we all left dissatisfied with the final outcome of the proceedings.

As I was on my way out, one functionary of the council came to me and asked me to follow him. One of the councilors wanted to have a word with me. He did not add further details.

I was taken to a side room, not a very large chamber, but richly decorated, where an old man was waiting seated on a large chair. It was Gamaliel. As he saw me approaching, he stood up and embraced me warmly as friends do who had not seen one another for a while. I reciprocated awkwardly but respectfully too, and he asked me to take a seat.

"Master Ahasver, I asked for you here to let you know that I am working in freeing our good friend Joseph. It has been some years since he was locked in that fortress, and I believe that I can now get the support of our High Priest and of some other influential friends to get him back."

" _Rabban_ that would be truly wonderful!" I said.

"Really? Even if that means that you will lose some of your current prestige?"

"I am afraid that you exaggerate, _Rabban_. Far from illustrious or rich, as some claim, the truth is that I am an employee, receiving a salary just like so many of Joseph's other functionaries. And, the truth be said, I have not aspired to more" and I was being really truthful and with no ambiguity whatsoever.

"I believe you, Master Ahasver. Your behavior has been exemplary and discreet. Very discreet, I must admit. Others in your place would not have been so. But Joseph always had a gift for surrounding himself with righteous and honest people."

"But is it truly imminent, his release?"

"I do believe so. Maybe a matter of weeks at most. The arrival of the Governor will also help our cause. There will be some in his entourage who know Gamaliel because of his businesses in Syria, and they will exert some influence with the Governor. Anyway, I wanted you to be the first to know, as I expect there will be matters to attend to in this regard. But do not say or do anything until I tell you more."

"Of course, _Rabban_ , and I do thank you for trusting me, and please do let me know if there is anything I can do. Anything, and obviously, money is not an issue."

A few days before the arrival of the Governor Lucius Vitelius to the city, Joseph of Arimathea was released from captivity, as Gamaliel and his supporters got the Council to approve his liberation. This was also made possible through the intercession of a Greek, by the name of Erasto, who was at the time one of the governor's secretaries.

This Erasto was a relative of Joseph's agent in Antioch, and he interceded with the Governor for Joseph's freedom. The Governor, known for his just disposition and integrity, ordered Erasto to write to the Sanhedrin regarding Joseph's situation, presenting the argument that the prisoner was being held, not because of any criminal activity, but due to religious divergences, and such matters were not agreeable to Roman policy. He also added the argument that Joseph was an important member of the business community in the regions under his control, and ended his message by informing the Council that the Prefect, Marcellus, would not continue to hold such prisoners, as Pilate had done before.

It was a joyous and emotional day when we went to collect Joseph from the fortress. I gathered some of his closer friends and also a small escort to accompany us. I feared that his release could provoke some hostility or commotion from the more radical Judaean and Nazarene elements.

The city was pristine, as I had not seen it for a long time. Almost shiny, clean and filled with banners and ornaments of flowery and geometric patterns, and hanging in many of the windows, tapestries and colorful cloths made a strong contrast against the sandy and brownish hues of the edifices. All was being prepared to receive the Governor, but for us, it was also the visible celebration of Joseph's freedom.

It had been some months since we had last seen each other, as visitation had always been problematic. As we finally met, we embraced very emotionally under the careful gaze of some of the legionnaires, and of the many passers-by. To my surprise, Joseph was in good shape physically, and the years spent in that jail did not seem to affect his disposition nor his spirits. The same bright and intelligent gaze, the same courteous mannerisms, all reflected his joy with his new found freedom. There was a lot of talking to do and of decisions to take, but all that could wait.

I managed to get him into the litter, emphatically denying him his wish to go afoot, and before we headed home, he asked to be taken to the Temple to give thanks to the Lord for his release. Despite my attempts to dissuade him due to security concerns, he was not moved, and with a twinkle in his eyes he told me that his going to the Temple would be favorably looked at from all those who were watching him now.

The rest of the day was spent in the company of his many friends, who called on him and offered words of comfort and joy for his release. Colleagues, employees, customers, scribes, judges and priests, all wanted to see him and all he warmly received. It was only after dusk that we managed to get some peace.

"Ahasver," he said in a voice of happy fatigue, "what a wonderful day ! A day I had never expected to have again."

"Many good days are yet to come, Joseph."

"I do hope so, but I had many moments of doubt and uncertainty in that jail. Only my faith kept me going, and every day I thanked the Messiah for His words of comfort and relief."

The sudden look I cast him, made him smile.

"No, Ahasver, I did not see the Messiah. Nor am I senile yet. Nor was I fortunate enough to have an apparition."

"So? " I chuckled with a thin smile.

"I received a few letters from the brothers during this time, with words of consolation, and many of these were quotes of the wordings and teachings of Yeshua when he was among us."

"They were able to pass these letters to you in prison? I am surprised."

"Yes. We do have some brothers among the servants and other officers in that fortress. The humbler ones, I would say. It was through them that I received these messages."

"I did not know of this. No one has ever mentioned to me."

"One has to be discreet in these things. Besides, they were always a bit wary of you."

"Of me? But why? I did all that we agreed on. I have not even spoken of them to anyone, not even to Isaac."

"But you did not convert to the faith."

"Joseph, you know how I feel about their messiah."

"Mine too."

"What?"

"My Messiah too, Ahasver."

"Joseph, I have the highest regard and gratitude for you, but don't expect me to give up my faith in the Lord, and believe in the divinity of Yeshua or his resurrection."

"You saw the empty sepulcher."

"Yes I did, just as you did. But since when is that proof of anything?"

"Faith is not built on proof. He did appear later to some of his followers."

"I did not see that, nor you, as far as I know."

"No, I was not worthy, but I do believe it to be the truth. Ahasver, you must really hear and understand His teachings, the purity of His morals and the humility in all that He did. The cures, the sermons, the miracles, and then you would understand."

"Joseph, I do hope you are not criticizing me for my weak capabilities as a thinker," I said smiling and trying to bring that talk to an end, "that all that is beyond my intellectual understanding."

"Not at all, that is nonsense, Ahasver. See here, our most devoted followers are the less educated, the simpler folk. Yeshua always said that His message was not for the mighty and the powerful, but for the meek, the humble and the purest of heart among us."

"If there is one thing that I know, Joseph, is that the less educated and humbler are also the more gullible and naive. You are well aware of the many prophets and messiahs who have claimed divine inspiration throughout our history. And you also know who are the usual followers and the inevitable victims of these charlatans. It's the people, the common people, who first rise enthusiastically behind these movements and are then devoured by the violence provoked by these phony sages."

"This is different. Such movements had nothing in common with us. Those others always chose the path of violence, to topple the established order and any who opposed their ideas. Yeshua never defended such a course. He never advocated violence. Do tell me, in all this time have you ever heard of the brotherhood being involved with any violent deeds?"

"No, I admit to that. But Yeshua himself provoked a riot in the Temple. Let us not forget that. Isaac certainly has not forgotten."

"That event in the Temple was premeditated. Yeshua knew he would be accused and condemned because of it."

"Are you saying that he provoked that incident with the purpose of being punished?"

"We now believe so. He is part of the Lord, so the future or the past holds no mysteries to Him."

"But what kind of man would do that?"

"Someone with no reason to fear, and who knows beyond any doubt that death is but a stepping stone to an eternal life."

"A fanatic, I would say."

"No, Ahasver."

"Yes, Joseph. I see you all too concerned with life after death. So what is our purpose in this world? To grow old waiting for the inevitable?"

"It is not a question of waiting for death, but rather of preparing ourselves for that day, and those who do not follow the right faith in this world are condemned to suffer in the next."

"So you convert these people by fear. Fear of what is to come if they don't follow you now."

"Ahasver, only those who do not have a clear conscience for their actions and beliefs in this world, may fear the afterlife."

"The ones that do not sin, you mean, for let us be frank, Joseph, we all sin."

This dialogue still went on for some time, but it was more than evident that Joseph's faith in the Nazarene sect was now rock solid, and nothing would move or change his ideas. In all my previous meetings with the Nazarenes I had never had a discussion about their beliefs and not one of them had approached me in order to convert me to their faith. I expected the same from Joseph, and I told him so.

"In a way, Ahasver, that only enforces my trust in you. We have always being open and true with each other. Someone else might even try to ingratiate himself with me by pretending to accept my faith, and not because he really believed in the Messiah. But not you."

These were kind words that somehow appeased my fears with his return.

Obviously I questioned myself about my future, now that Joseph was back. I took some comfort in knowing that I had now quite a bit of money put away, but I did not look forward to going back to business on my own. At the very least, I hoped to remain under his employment.

The following days, more tranquil and with fewer visitors in the house, we finally had the time to inform Joseph about all that had happened with the businesses during his time in captivity. Joseph heard us and did not comment much. Isaac showed his numbers and reports, and in the end gave him a written summary of the balance and of the cash situation, what was in the safe downstairs and what was deposited in the Temple. I knew there would be discrepancies between his numbers and the actual values that were held, as Isaac had never been aware of the values that I had passed to the Nazarenes.

In the end, Joseph announced to us that he was fully satisfied, and that nothing would change with his return. I would still be in charge of the business, and Isaac could also stay on, if he wanted to. Joseph wanted to remain free from the daily chores of the emporium.

"Basically I can tell you that I will be traveling," he said, "I want to go to Caesarea, Damascus and also spend some time in Antioch. I am also very pleased with you two. I could not have found better and more trustworthy partners."

Unnecessary to say how relieved I was with this praise and his decision.

Getting him away from the city, from the influence of the Nazarenes and the vigilance of the Sanhedrin, was the surest way to keep him free. Since his convictions had not changed at all, I was positive that if he stayed in Jerusalem he would again get embroiled with the Nazarenes, and the Sanhedrin would surely react to that. The sad and tragic destiny of Stephen was still too fresh in my memory.

But I was not aware at that point, that his travel plans had everything to do with the Nazarenes.

Finally the long awaited Governor Vitelius arrived in the city. His entrance was triumphant, and the whole town went out into the streets to welcome him. Jonathan, still feeling insecure in his position as High Priest, went to extremes to appease, please and make this illustrious guest feel welcomed by all.

Vitelius entered the city with a small retinue of his officers, and his two legions set up camp outside the walls. Marcellus, the Prefect, received him in the Pretorium, and later in the same day, also in the company of Antipas, they proceeded to the Temple to pay the usual homage to the Lord.

The city was brimming with people, recently arrived for the harvest festival, also know as the feast of the Tabernacles, and Vitelius used the occasion to announce some reductions in taxes and duties, which made him even more popular. A large reception and a feast at the Herodian palace was also programmed for that evening, but the news of the sudden death of the Emperor Tiberius interrupted the festivities, and Vitelius hurriedly left to join his troops and make them swear the usual vows of allegiance to the new Emperor, Gaius Caligula.

Before departing from the region, Vitelius once again returned to the city and replaced the High Priest Jonathan with his brother Theophilus. Later on, Joseph told me that this was requested by Jonathan himself, naming his own brother as his successor.

Meanwhile, Joseph kept himself busy preparing for his own departure. He claimed that he was now fully recovered from his prison ordeal, physically fit and eager to start on his journey. He had already dispatched much correspondence to his contacts in the cities that he would be visiting, and all was now ready.

"Did you know, Ahasver, that Damascus was the city of Abraham before he came to Judaea?"

I did not know or remember. Certainly it was written somewhere in the scriptures.

Joseph was an ardent admirer of Antioch. Its temples, the luxuriant fields of the city surrounded by high hills and distant mountains with their summits covered in perpetual snow, all laid out in a fertile valley with a river crossing it in half. A city of pagans with good taste, as he described it.

"Yes, Antioch is a magnificent city, one of the largest in the empire."

"Are there many Judaeans in the city?"

"Oh yes, but many more Gentiles, especially Greeks, and we do have some brothers there already. Allegedly it was founded by the great Alexander, just like Alexandria itself, but there are those who doubt this," and with sparkling eyes he went on. "it will be very good to revisit some places and see some old friends again. Ahasver, that is truly the best thing one can do in these travels."

"I've never been outside of Judaea, only to Caesarea a few times on business."

"Well, I recommend that you do some traveling when possible. Get to know this world. Enlarge your knowledge and open your horizons."

"Maybe some day."

"I'm sure. You are the kind who is curious enough to enjoy exploring new places."

"Are you meeting with the Messianics there?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm taking with me some correspondence from the brothers here in Jerusalem. Also, some notes with sayings of our Messiah. Ahasver, there is a great thirst in that city for the right kind of messages, and many want to know more of our lord Yeshua."

"Do you really think they will believe it? The resurrection and all, I mean."

"Always the skeptic, Ahasver. Fortunately there are many who believe in it, and even more who will come to believe it in the future, for His word will spread to all nations..."

"I've heard that expression..."

"You see ? The word is spreading, have no doubt! Some even believe that soon we will have some Gentile brothers too. Those who erroneously believe in pagan gods and the cults of Rome and Greece."

"You mean people who are unfamiliar with the scriptures ? Who do not keep the law and the holy commandments? I don't understand..."

"Yeshua commanded his followers to spread His word to everyone, all nations and tribes, and not only to the Judaeans. I believe that will happen. Ahasver, the Messiah was not just a Judaean, He is for all men and for all peoples. That is the nature of his message. He was condemned for the sins of all mankind."

"You are saying that anyone, man or women, can adhere to the cult?"

"I believe so, and so do many others of our brothers."

"Joseph, all this traveling you are now planning is in the service of the Messianics ?"

"Also," he smiled, "but not only for our faith, I need to do it for my own sake too."

From this conversation, I could gather that the cult now had the will and the means to spread to other lands, not only by encroaching on the believers of the true faith, but also accept converts who did not know or follow our scriptures and our rituals.

Soon came the day of Joseph's departure and together with the servants, the carriages and all the luggage, I followed him to the Sheep's Gate to say our farewells amidst promises of maintaining regular contact through the post and by mutual acquaintances. It would be a long and risky journey. They would be joining a large caravan, but in those days, danger lurked in those long and winding routes. I was feeling very negative that day, filled with dark premonitions.

His departure brought on an emptier house, the repeated routines of daily chores, less visitors and a longing for our afternoon talks, even those of the more impious kind.

Year 38

"Master Ahasver, there is a man at the gate that claims to have a message for you."

"Well, ask him to give it to you."

"He wants to deliver it to you in person. He would not give it to me. I asked him..."

"Very well, tell him to wait in the courtyard. I'll be down soon, but be vigilant, Ioanis. We never know..."

Many knew that this house was also a place of work, with money and other valuables stored in it. And it was true. Joseph had built a solid and hidden safe that few were aware of. But it was always wiser to be careful than sorry.

The stranger who called on me was a robust man, tall in stature, wearing a tunic of faded color under a dusty grey cloak. Penetrating dark eyes under exaggerated eyebrows, a prominent chin and thin chapped lips completed this austere character.

"Master Ahasver, my name is Saul of Tarsus, and I bring you a message from brother Joseph."

I should have guessed, another Nazarene. That sort of attire was almost an uniform with them. But the important thing was to receive news from Joseph.

"I welcome you then," and I asked him to come into the _atrium_ , where we sat in the couches that were laying close to the pond.

"Brother Joseph is now in Damascus, from where I arrived yesterday, he is well and in vigorous health, I am pleased to say. By the grace of our Lord, his journey was peaceful and uneventful.

"I am pleased to hear that. I'll be sure to let everyone know of such good tidings."

Without further ado, he handed me a roll of parchment, written in Joseph's calligraphy.

"He asked that you read it presently before I leave, and to wait for your answer. But if it is inconvenient, I can return tomorrow or at a more suitable date."

"No, please. I can read it now."

Joseph's letter was not long, and in it he informed of his trip from Caesarea to Damascus, where he arrived well and with no mishaps. He was staying at the house of an old friend from Jerusalem, and would stay there awaiting for Saul's return, and then both would go on to Antioch, following his original plan. He mentioned the success the Nazarenes were having with new converts, numbering over 30 in that city alone. He asked me to write back to him, and ended the letter requesting that I give Saul a half-talent of gold now and another half on his return to Damascus.

I was not surprised with this request, since I had long known that Joseph was financing the activities of the Nazarenes, but the amount now requested was exorbitant, and I almost told so to the messenger. But then again it was not my money and Joseph could dispose of it as he best saw fit.

"Saul, you are aware of Joseph's wish as by this letter?"

"Yes, brother Joseph confided in me its contents."

"A request from Joseph is an order in this house, but I have to warn you of the dangers of carrying this much coin around."

"I am well aware of that. I can tell you that one half-talent is to give to our congregation here in the city and the rest I will take back to Damascus with me."

"Joseph must really trust you."

"Brother Joseph knows me well. He knows of my dedication and of my integrity."

"I can hear from your accent, that you are not from Jerusalem."

"No, I was born in Tarsus, but I received my instruction in this city. My parents were Pharisees, friends of a friend of Joseph, _Rabban_ Gamaliel, who was also my teacher for some time. I studied the scriptures in his school."

"Are you now living in Damascus ?"

"Antioch is my home."

Given the time and the rules of courtesy, I invited him to share a meal with us, but he declined the invitation.

"I am sorry that you have other commitments for the day. In any case, I must ask you to return tomorrow to get the money. I do not have such large amounts here at the house" I lied.

"I am at your disposal, of course, and tomorrow I will bring some of my brothers with me. It will be safer."

Late in the evening I took 30 _minas_ from the safe, the amount equivalent to the half-talent that Joseph has requested. How life had changed, I thought, while I wrapped the coins in an old cloth bag. Thirty _minas_ to hand over to heretics.

In the next morning, Saul and two of his Nazarene brothers returned to the house.

For civility sake I asked them to take some refreshments, and we all sat once again in the _atrium_. I asked one of the servants for the drinks, and while we waited, I was surprised with the following statement.

"Master Ahasver, are you aware that in our community it is known that our Messiah spoke with you when He was on the way to his martyrdom? Can you tell us how it was? We would very much like to set down the details."

"Yes, Master Ahasver, please do tell us" asked one of the other Nazarenes by the name of Joseph.

"You mean you want to write it down?" I asked, "I can't allow that, for everyone's sake, especially Joseph and our business here. It cannot be made public our involvement with you or our support. It would be very bad for business and besides, as you well know I do not subscribe to your beliefs."

"Master Ahasver," replied Saul, "naturally we will respect your wishes. Our brotherhood has almost completed a short book on the works and the teachings of the Messiah. Everyone who witnessed his deeds have voluntarily given testimonials of his stay among us."

"Everyone who accepts and sympathizes with your faith" I corrected him.

"Yes, all who were touched by His divine grace and have converted to our faith."

"I have to insist that is not my case."

"But one day soon the Spirit will awake within you and you will come to accept our Lord. We have no doubt that one day you will recognize the truth" affirmed one of the others.

"Your support has been invaluable to us and to the spreading of the message of Yeshua" continued Saul.

"My support is Joseph's support, I just carry out his wishes on this matter."

"Your modesty commends you, Master Ahasver. You could have refused to support our cause a long time ago, when Joseph was in prison and with no perspective of freedom. You could have denounced us all to the authorities when the Council was persecuting us in those days. But, by the grace of the Lord and the Messiah, you remained silent and allowed us to go on with our preaching and our teachings. For us, you will always be remembered as a friend and a supporter, even if you won't adhere to our creed."

How arrogant they were, when all that had happened was by the will of their messiah, as if we all were mere players in the grand plan of their savior. And stubborn too.

"Please, won't you tell us? We will not divulge your name to anyone, that we can promise in the name of Yeshua."

"Well, in that case I can tell you that our conversation lasted just a few seconds, and nothing worthy of note was exchanged. Your prophet was exhausted, thirsty, and he asked me for some water. I could not attend to his request as the legionnaires intervened, and he had to continue on his way. I am sorry to disappoint you, but that was all that really happened on that day."

"Do you recall His exact words?"

Time... thou shall not want for time... thou will have all the time in the world until my return...

"Regrettably not. He was very weak, and with all the shouting going on around I could not understand much of what was said."

"What a pity, Master Ahasver, and at such a crucial and significant moment" sighed Saul.

"Master Ahasver, brother Cephas sends his greetings and his thanks for your diligence and continued support. He also asked me to invite you to come to share our rites. Just to listen to the messages of Yeshua. It is not only the converted, and the faithful who can participate, also the Gentiles and unbelievers are welcome.

"Anyone can attend?" I asked surprised by such a notion.

"Of course," answered Saul, "our faith welcomes all who want to hear the words of the Savior."

"A strange cult," I commented, "where anyone can participate."

"Anyone can hear the words of the Lord, but only the faithful understand and receive the Spirit of the Lord. We are not a pagan cult where only acolytes can participate. We do not have secret rites reserved for the initiated only."

"Just for curiosity," I asked, "it is said that you drink blood during these rituals. Is it true?"

"Yes and no" answered Saul.

I could see that this Nazarene also liked ambiguity. I wondered if he was or had been a tradesman too.

"The blood and the flesh of the Messiah are the only mysteries we practice in our rituals as He commanded to do in the last supper He had with his disciples. But be assured, it is not real blood or flesh, just symbols that represent to us His sacrifice. But do come one of these days to hear His word, and you will see for yourself what we mean."

"Maybe one day," I could also be ambiguous, "and now, if you forgive me, we have to part, I do have some other urgent matters to attend to."

I gave them the money, and they hurriedly left, and I found myself thinking. If in Damascus they had already made over thirty conversions, how many had they achieved in the city? I still saw them occasionally preaching in the Temple, but the groups who were listening to them were not numerous, and were mostly made up of foreigners and pilgrims. But overall, my curiosity did not extend as far as to attend one of their meetings.

Year 39

Since diligence is the mother of experience, I now hardly depended on Isaac anymore, and he seldom came to the house since his marriage with Rebecca. And some months later, too few according to Ruth's calculation, we once again had a Simon around the house, certainly smaller, but much more vociferous and restless than the previous one.

My own son, Yeshua, continued to dedicate most of his time to the scriptures, tutored by Master Mordechai, and was now starting with his first lessons in Greek and latin, two languages that I was still trying to master. Although Ruth was not totally in favor of the teaching of these pagan languages, as she claimed, I had already learned through experience how useful both of them were for our daily activities, especially for those of us who worked with the Gentiles. Isaac also agreed with me on this. Father Simon certainly had had his shortcomings and vanities, but we all agreed that he made his best in providing us both with a good education.

I also started to travel for business with more frequency, calling on customers and our own emporia in other cities of Judaea and Galilee. But it was in Caesarea where I bought my first house. Recent disturbances in that city had led some Greek and Syrian merchants to move to Sidon and Tyre, and as a consequence, property prices went sufficiently down to justify my investment.

Ruth was not too pleased with this, considering it an extravagance, but, truth be said, she was not totally against it, and little complained when I took the family to the seaside to spend some days in that sunnier and milder city. Only Isaac was adamant that he could not understand why anyone would want to spend any time away from the holy city and much less in a city that he considered to be the meretricious Babylon of Judaea.

Life was good and pleasant. We had everything we needed and more, and I was increasingly seen as the natural successor to Joseph. And from Joseph I learned that he had finally arrived in Antioch. Through his letters, I could feel his enthusiasm and happiness with his new life, free as he had never felt, so he claimed. The Antiochenes were mostly descendants of Greeks, heathen and hedonistic, but they did not force their convictions and religious beliefs on anyone, and the city tolerated all religions, sects and cults.

Joseph also commented that most of the Judaeans were of Greek origin, and very receptive to the messages of Yeshua, probably due to the distance from the Temple and our sacred soil. He kept mentioning some of his new friends in these narratives, and there were always references to Saul, now a committed preacher and one of their faith's most arduous defenders. And every time I heard of anyone traveling to Antioch, I would also send letters to him, describing the more noteworthy events in Jerusalem. Not just regarding ourselves, the businesses and his friends, but also about the Nazarenes, once again visibly active with their preaching. This was partially due to the feebleness of the Sanhedrin, weakened when Antipas took a great number of the more senior and wiser councilors to Rome, to help with his defense before the Emperor in regard to several accusations brought against him.

THE COUNCILLOR

Year 40

On a late morning I was interrupted by one of the servants, visibly shaken, announcing that an important official was at the gate. Intrigued and curious to know who it might be, I went down and almost collided with Ioanis who was climbing the stairs to call me.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Master, it's the _Nasi_ , _Rabban_ Gamaliel !"

"Here? Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course. One of his servants announced it when I enquired."

"Well then, clear the courtyard and open the gates. And tell someone to make sure that the _atrium_ is made ready."

It was indeed Gamaliel who stepped out of the litter.

" _Rabban_. May peace be unto you."

"My friend Ahasver, and with you too in this lovely morning."

"I am indeed honored to receive you, _Rabban_."

But we did not go into the _atrium_. Gamaliel preferred the terrace.

"I've always liked this place. Joseph did a wonderful job in this terrace," as he sat down in one of the couches, "I have spent some very pleasant afternoons under these shades. And, by the way, how is our dear friend these days?"

" _Rabban_ , it has been some time since I last heard from him, I suppose it is not easy to find bearers for messages from Antioch. But I have recently received some goods I ordered, and I assume that all is well with him."

"Let us hope that he returns to us soon. His absence is a loss to all."

And we continued with mundane chatting while the servants brought some refreshments and appetizers.

"But let me tell you of the reason for this unannounced call. As you know, and in this town almost everything is known," he said with a mischievous glance, "our great Council is at the moment incomplete with the departure of so many of our members for Rome We have been having a few problems dealing with some pressing issues."

He went on after a quick sip of water.

"For this reason, some of us have been charged to draw up a list of candidates for membership to the Council, and I thought of you, Ahasver. That is if you accept of course."

I was surprised, pleasantly surprised. It was a great honor to be part of the Council, and I believe my astonishment was all too visible to Gamaliel.

"Why so surprised?" he asked amused.

"Well, yes, of course, yes. I don't know what to say..." I stuttered.

"That suffices or now, my friend. If you accept my proposal, I will put your name forward for consideration by the other judges and councilors."

"Of course, _Rabban_ , how could I refuse the honor?"

"But I still need to know something from you," staring at me with arching eyebrows, "you are not a member of that Messianic sect, are you?"

"No!" I denied it vehemently, "But may I know why you ask?"

"I have heard some say that you have converted to this cult, or at least you sympathize with them, and also, that you have received them in this house recently. And," he added, "it is known that some of the servants here are proselytes. I told you, in this town little escapes our attention."

" _Rabban_ let me be as forthright as you. I keep my faith, and I am a devoted follower of our laws. I will not deny that I have had dealings with some members of the sect, but also in the strictest confidence, this has happened because of Joseph. I do believe you understand of what I am talking about. Besides, I do know enough of this sect's rites to find them abominable, and let us not even mention their messiah and his resurrection."

"I do believe you, Ahasver. But it is important that you are not seen to be associated with them. Please do your best to ensure this. I'm sure that you will agree with me when I say that in these matters, it is more important the illusion than the reality. And since you have accepted my proposal, I will add your name to my list of candidates. Of course, I cannot guarantee that you will be accepted, but you will have my full backing."

" _Rabban_ , I am not sure..."

"You have doubts?"

"I know little of law and legal affairs."

"My friend, right now we need sound practical sense in that council. We have enough legal doctors and masters of the laws, and besides, Joseph was a member, and not as a scholar, but for what he was and did for this city. It is only fair that you take up his seat."

It was only when I received the summons for my first meeting as a full member of the Council that I realized what I was in for! I went to Gamaliel for some hints and instructions of the proceedings. Kindly, he helped me.

In that morning of my first attendance in Council, I left home very early in the company of Ioanis, wearing a brand new outfit. A cloak of light blue linen with stripes in a darker shade of blue and a tunic of smooth beige cotton of good cut, and embroidered with some delicate needlework in silvery thread. Ruth had been tireless in her search for the finest cloth and insistent when I protested with all her fuss.

On our way up to the Council chamber, I came across Gamaliel, not very talkative that morning, who was in the company of other members, and together we entered the large hall where some of our colleagues had already taken their seats.

Received by the chamberlain, each was directed to our rightful seats. Mine was almost at the back, since I was one of the junior members of the house. I recognized some familiar faces, some of whom I did not even know were members, and soon enough, with the entrance of the senior councilors, the _Nasi_ and the High Priest, the session began.

On this particular occasion, the only issue under discussion was relative to a piece of news that had recently arrived in the city, that the Romans were building a statue of one of their pagan gods, Jupiter, I think it was, with the purpose of placing it within the Temple enclosure. The problem was aggravated, if such could be possible, since it was known that the statue was a request of the Emperor himself to the Governor of Syria, Publius Petronius, and a famous sculptor in Sidon had been commissioned to build it and was already working on it. Only someone completely ignorant of our customs could have thought of such an obscenity.

As soon as Gamaliel ended this announcement, everyone was quite astonished and the silence was total — something remarkable in that chamber. It was still fresh in our memories the riots that had broken out when it was known that Pilate wanted to bring into the city the ensigns of his troops. A statue of a pagan god in our holy city, and in the actual Temple, was unimaginable to us all. It would be a devastating catastrophe, that could only lead to a war against the Romans, and our own doom.

The ominous silence stretched on for minutes, until suddenly some started to raise from their seats, asking for permission to speak, while others removed their coats and silently tore their vests and tunics as a sign of profound indignation with such news. I kept still and quiet. I certainly did not want to speak nor did I want to tear my new garments.

To describe herewith the number of hours spent listening to everything from almost everyone, is pointless and exhaustive, but finally a most wise decision was taken, also something a bit unusual in such gatherings and in such heat.

It was agreed that two delegations should be formed. One was to be sent to Antioch, to make the Governor aware of the folly of this imperial command, and of the violence that would ensue if the whole thing was not contained in time. The other would go to Tiberias, and seek an audience with Agrippa, a Judaean and a known friend of the Emperor.

And suddenly I also had an idea. Since one of the delegations was to go to Antioch, I would offer myself to be part of it. I must admit that my main purpose was not to add my voice to the general indignation of the mission, but, influenced by the stories and narrations of Joseph, to visit that city and meet up with Joseph himself.

Hiding my less altruistic motives, and emphasizing my full aversion with such infamous imperial command, I offered myself to Gamaliel as a delegate.

"Ahasver, I can certainly recommend you, although you are very new to these affairs, but I believe it will be accepted. And you get the chance to meet with Joseph, over there, am I right?" he said smiling at my too obvious interest. I was very transparent in those days.

" _Rabban_ , you are a true sage in human nature!"

"I try to, but let me warn you, it's a long trip, and it could be hard. No one knows how the Governor will react to our demands. Yes, I do think it will be difficult indeed."

"My inclusion or the mission, _Rabban_?"

"Yes" he ambiguously answered.

"Well, I can assure you that I have no fear to set out on such a long journey, and I believe I can be pretty persuasive at times. After all, I've had some experience in trading with some pretty sharp customers."

"I don't doubt it. And, I must say, your age is also a good reason. Time has been generous to you my friend. I actually believe we will have a hard time finding some members who are young and willing enough to go on such a journey. Yes, you are right, you should go" he concluded.

Believing that Gamaliel's conclusion would ensure my participation, I immediately started with the necessary preparations for the trip. There was a lot to do to leave everything in order, estimating that I could be away for at least four months. I had to buy provisions, tents, recruit an adequate escort, exchange money, and finish off some outstanding deals. And not less difficult and time consuming, I had to persuade Ruth of the importance of the journey and of my participation. Not just to me, of course, but for the welfare of us all.

So, I was not at all surprised when Gamaliel confirmed my inclusion in the delegation.

We departed from the city on a windy and dark morning, under the blessing of a priest, heavy rains and attended by some of the Council's officers who came to see us off, including Gamaliel. He expressed his farewell with a warm embrace and some advice, as he gave me a large pack of correspondence to deliver in some of the cities that we would pass on our way.

My delegation consisted of five delegates, their servants, two guides and some guards to escort us during the long journey. The other had more members of the Council, as it had been considered that the mission to Agrippa would be more relevant for our cause than the one to the Roman Governor.

The two groups set out together on the road to Caesarea, and near to Dor, our delegation continued northwards through the Via Maris, while the other branched inland towards Galilee and Tiberias where Agrippa was holding court.

The journey up to Caesarea was the hardest for most members of the delegations, unused to ride on horseback for hours on end, up and down those serpentine paths. Already used to that route, I also complained to whoever listened about the complaints of the others. And I was impatient. I wanted to reach the coast where the road was better, the scenery was new to me, and the topography of the land more leveled and pleasant.

But still we were retained in Caesarea for almost two days, mainly for the anatomical recovery of the other delegates. Once again on the road, with everyone now more used to the rigors of travel, we actually started to make good progress and were soon in Tyre, where we were received by the local Judaean community. From there to Sidon we took two days, and decided to spent the _Shabbat_ in that city and at the same time find the sculptor and check on the progress of the infamous work.

Some quick investigative work took us to the workshop of Laertus, a Greek artisan and sculptor, who proudly showed us his work. It was, to be frank, a very beautiful statue, all done in a most white marble, which once ready and fully setup would be at least four to five meters tall, and we did panic when we saw that it was almost ready. Laertus complained bitterly that his work was late, as well as his payment, as he was still waiting for a bust of the recently deified Caesar to complete the head of Jupiter.

Now, even more disgusted with the whole thing, we left more determined than ever to make haste for Antioch. If it was unthinkable to have a statue of Jupiter in our Temple, we could hardly imagine what it would be like to have one of the new god Caligula!

In that same evening it was even suggested by some that we should attempt to destroy the work already done by the sculptor, but in the end we agreed that it would not solve anything, it would just delay the problem. Our hope was with Agrippa and the Governor.

More frenetic, we quickly set for Berytus and Byblos, cities where there were also large Judaean communities, to whom we would inform of our mission. Arwad, Antaradus and Laodicea were the next cities, and nearly forty long days after our departure from Jerusalem we finally reached the gates of Antioch.

The city is laid out in an immense valley and has nothing, but nothing, in common with my Jerusalem. It is a green city, a humid, lushly, sweet-smelling green, with coniferous trees doting the landscape, spread throughout the low hills and up the slopes of the surrounding mounts. In the far distance, in days of good visibility, it is possible to see snow-capped violaceous mountains, and throughout the plain, the city reaches far beyond the river course in whose margins one can admire magnificent and luxurious villas in Roman and Greek styles. After that long journey, it was not just our destination but a veritable oasis.

Having sent one of our guides ahead of us, we were received by a small entourage, who were aware of our mission and took us into the Kerateion, the Judaean quarter, where we took quarters in the residence of a wealthy merchant. On the morning of the day after our arrival, one member of the local council was dispatched to the palace to seek an audience with the Governor.

Simultaneously, I started to make enquiries after Joseph. I was eager to see him and to deliver the correspondence that I had brought. But it wasn't an easy task to locate him. Joseph was a common name, and I was given many leads and possibilities, but after some more detailed questioning, none proved to be the right person. I sent some servants to look for him in the warehouses and emporia close to the river, more to the east, and I visited some of our temples enquiring after him.

I then remembered the Nazarenes. The city was very diverse, and there were many temples dedicated to various divinities, and not just Greek or Roman, but of other more obscure religions. Through his letters, I knew that the Nazarenes were well known in the city so I decided then to look also for Saul, as Joseph had also mentioned that he was now a known preacher in the city.

Curiously, my Judaean friends knew very well who Saul was.

While we waited for a date to be set for an audience with Publius Petronius, I had time to spare and to explore the city. I was delighted with its extensive gardens and parks, the statuary, the fountains and the general voluptuousness of Greek architecture. How rudimentary, it seemed to me then, our city of Jerusalem! How provincial were our clayey edifices and heavy construction when compared to the lightness of those temple arcades, the airy loftiness of basilicas and palaces in rosy and white marble. How beautiful the statues that seemed to secure immense balconies, flanked majestic porticoes and complemented colonnades in perfect harmony. I have no doubt that it was in Antioch that I became an ardent and enthusiastic admirer of Hellenic aesthetics.

Also the cosmopolitanism of the city was to be seen in the different races sporting splendorous attires, promenading those wide avenues and arboreal boulevards. Faces of all kinds and complexions, wearing silky clothes of too bright colors, dyed beards, eyes highlighted by hennaed ornaments and hairdos set in exquisite statuesquely shapes. Proud officials in their togas of pristine white, Phoenician merchants grouped in agitated conversations, ebony muscular slaves and even tattooed Germanic warriors.

Once I knew the whereabouts of the Nazarene temple — yes, to my amazement that is exactly what I was told! — I rented a sedan chair and I was driven to a brick building of indiscernible style, that was located on the side of a marketplace. Seeing that both doors were wide open, I walked into a large chamber filled with different sized chairs and stools, all lined towards a small dais.

In one side of the hall, people were sitting in a circle around someone. Some looked Judaean, judging by their attires, and some others seemed to be Parthians, due to the style of their meticulously cut beards.

When they saw me approaching, one of them stood up and came towards me.

" _Khaire_ , peace be unto you" he saluted, partially raising his arm.

I greeted him back and came closer to the group.

In the meantime, the person they were listening to, also stood up, and it was Saul, clearly astonished to see me there.

"Master Ahasver! Brother Ahasver. I can't believe it. You in Antioch?" he repeated effusively, apparently happy to find me there.

"Yes, Saul. As you can see!"

"Welcome in the name of Jesus, the Christ, to our first _ecclesia_."

"This is your main temple?" I asked.

"Yes, Ahasver. It's where we gather to hear the teachings and perform our rites."

"An empty hall. Not even an altar?"

"Why would we need one?" he enquired, amused with my perplexity.

"For the solemn rituals?"

"We have very few of those, brother."

"No offerings or sacrifices?"

"No, no" he was now smiling, amused with my questioning.

"I would have thought you had them in your main temple."

"Ahasver, we believe that our prayers are quite sufficient for the Lord. Why sacrifice innocent animals?"

"Well, you continue to sound blasphemous to me" I said grimly.

"Not at all. The immolation that is performed in the Temple in Jerusalem is an inheritance of the olden days, when we lived in the darkness of our ignorance of the Christ. Just like the pagans still do."

"Well, I believe in what I read in the scriptures and such offerings and sacrifices are clearly commanded by the Lord."

"And there has been no higher sacrifice than that of our Christ."

"If you say so, Saul. I am just a believer in what is written in the scriptures. I don't interpret them, unlike you, who insist on doing it."

"Ahasver, let us lay aside our differences for now."

"You're right, I apologize for my comments. Anyway, I'm looking for Joseph."

"Yes, of course, I thought so. When I saw you now, I didn't think you were here as a brother in our faith."

"Of all place in Antioch?" I replied smiling.

I dispensed with the sedan chair, per Saul's suggestion, as the house of Joseph was not far from that temple of theirs. Saul looked much leaner now than when I had met him, and signs of age were more pronounced in that face of his, now beardless, but his eyes still had that stubborn gleam. And I finally met with Joseph, who seemed to my eyes to have aged considerably, looking even more debilitated than when I had seen him leave the prison at the Antonia fortress. The years had not been too gentle with my friend.

After the first reactions and emotions of our reunion, amidst profuse embraces, we eventually sat down and began one of the many conversations that would be repeated throughout the next days. Despite our regular exchange of letters and messages, words were always easier and fed longer discussions. Joseph wanted to know about everything and everyone in Jerusalem. I was curious about him and his activities, his projects and future endeavors.

He was still very much in the known about the situation in Judaea. He maintained regular contact with his friends, not only in Jerusalem, but also in Caesarea, Tiberias, Damascus, Corinth and even Rome and Alexandria. He was also well aware of the delegation that had gone to Tiberias, telling me that Agrippa had accepted the commission to go to Rome and speak on our behalf to Caesar.

"You know, Ahasver, even the Governor here is reluctant in fulfilling the orders of the Emperor in regards to that statue. He has done his utmost to delay the whole thing. Even the bust of the Emperor is still here in the city, despite the fact that he was supposed to have it sent to Sidon on its arrival."

"You mean to say that our trip was unnecessary? We are not going to accomplish anything?"

"No, no. It's important. The Council was wise in sending you here. Politically speaking. It could be problematic if you had only appealed to Agrippa. Jerusalem is dependent on this Governor and owes no formal allegiance to the Tetrarch of Samaria and Galilee."

"But surely he knows of the mission to Agrippa and of his departure to Rome."

"Yes, he was there in Tiberias too. But you can claim, and with reason, that your trip took longer to get here. He'll understand that. The important thing is that you are here now."

"But Joseph, how do you know all this?" I questioned him puzzled.

"Through friends, of course. We do have friends in the palace," and he added smugly, "brothers, Ahasver, brothers in our faith."

"Messianics?"

"Christians, is how we are known in the city. Disciples and followers of Jesus the Christ."

We were talking in our common Aramaic, but these new words were said in _koine_.

"Why all this Hellenism with words?"

"Saul," asked Joseph, "you can explain it better to Ahasver."

"Of course, brother Joseph. In the beginning, Ahasver, we started our conversions with our Judaean brethren, mainly with those who were disappointed with our religion, who were tired of a message that had not evolved in the last thousand years nor had improved the conditions of the chosen people."

"But Saul," I argued immediately, "first, the truth is timeless and the word of the Lord is immortal and everlasting. It's not supposed to change with the passage of time or to accommodate the restless..."

"I agree up to a point, Ahasver. The scriptures have always announced the coming of a savior, a messiah, an age that would bring peace and prosperity for all. And the Messiah has come! It is Yeshua, who preached peace, a message of hope for all, not only in the context of the Torah, but going beyond it."

"So you keep interpreting the sacred commands. Like most heretics, you also modify the scriptures to suit your beliefs."

"We are faithfully applying the teachings of the Messiah. He is the only one who can interpret the messages of His Father. None of us denies the divine origin of the Torah, Ahasver. We all follow the Lord. But you need to understand that the Messiah, as the son and an integral part of the Lord, has much more authority to interpret it than any other prophet before Him."

"Right, but you still haven't explained the Hellenism. You know that the Torah is written in Hebraic and should not be translated from its original language, it's too sacred for that."

"That's not quite true. Are you not aware that there is a Greek translation of the Torah? They call it the Septuagint and some temples have been using it."

"I didn't know that, I must admit."

"And, Ahasver, I can tell you in confidence that we have converted some Gentiles to our faith. Even now Joseph was mentioning some of our brothers in the palace, and yes, it is true, we have some staffers and scribes and even servants who are converts. They are new Christian Judaeans. They have followed all the commands and the rituals required for conversion. It is for them and for the other Gentiles that we are translating the messages of Yeshua, and also for the Judaeans, the ones who are Greek speakers, here in the city and throughout the empire."

"Ahasver," said Joseph softly grabbing my shoulder, "I still believe that one day you will join us in our faith."

"Joseph, I think you know me well enough to know that I am satisfied with my beliefs. You see, I have no doubts about my faith. Don't ever take my tolerance for acceptance. I will not betray the faith of my fathers and of my ancestors who were expelled from Babylon for their religious beliefs in the Lord."

I believe I was very emphatic with Joseph on that day, and we seldom returned to discussions involving religion again.

Still waiting for the gubernatorial audience, I visited him every day, and he was a tireless guide.

Together we strolled in leisurely pace the giant portico that starts in the eastern gate and goes on for over ten _stadia_ until it reaches the _forum_ , a most impressive and splendid sight to behold. We visited the main island where the imperial palace is located, and we saw some games in the hippodrome next to it. How the Antiochenes were fanatical about those games ! We admired the architecture of the new temples in the recently built _forum_ of Tiberius, and watched with morbid fascination the bloody slaughter of a bull on the altar of Jupiter. We explored the Syrian quarters, on the other side of the island, where I tried some of their exotic delicacies, and also attended the presentation of some hilarious comedies and plays in the theatre of the Caesars, built almost on the hillside of mount Silpius.

But I must say that it was in the _agora_ where I spent most of my time, listening to discourses and lectures of true masters in rhetoric and oratory, proffered by well known orators from the cities of Greece and Rome. I have no doubts at all, that it was there, where I learned to be even more curious and inquisitive with all that surrounds me. Even Joseph, at first reticent, came to agree with me that some of those locutions were brilliant and truly insightful. There we heard of the cosmos, of the universe, and of the nature of celestial bodies. And it was also there that I first heard the word philosophy, probably the most beautiful word that I know of, coined by the famous Pythagoras of Samos.

I don't know for how much longer I would have remained in Antioch, if it had not been for the news of the murder of the young Caesar. We now had a new Emperor, his uncle Claudius. A scholar, according to Joseph, but also an eccentric, in Saul's opinion.

By coincidence, or probably not, almost immediately we were called to the palace where the Governor thanked us for our efforts in bringing the message from the Sanhedrin to his attention, and informed us that the statue would not be placed in Jerusalem. He added that his new instructions from Rome were to destroy the existing statue. He also informed us that Agrippa had been proclaimed King of most of Palestine by the new Emperor, and so Judaea and Jerusalem were no more part of his domain of Syria.

Jubilant with this news, we congratulated ourselves on this unexpected success, and some even went so far as to discreetly thank the Lord for the removal of such a deranged enemy of our faith. Mission accomplished, we immediately started with the arrangements for our return home.

Even more difficult than that hard and long journey, was now having to say goodbye to Joseph. It is said that departing is always a loss, and Joseph was very taciturn on that last afternoon that we spent together. The last time we had said our farewells in Jerusalem, I had had strange and evil premonitions, but fortunately nothing bad had happened.

"Joseph," I asked as we sat on one of the marble benches next to the temple of Saturn, "don't you ever think of returning home?"

"Ahasver, I am home."

"I meant Jerusalem."

"Who knows what the future may bring?"

A question answered by another question. I could see that I was not the only one attentive to the oratory in the _agora_.

"I do think of returning. I hope to. I still have the two tombs over there" he answered smiling.

"Where did that come from?"

"I learned the other day, through some Thracians, that elephants know when they are dying, and at that time they embark on a journey to a certain place in the south. The same place where previous generations also went to die."

"Are there elephants in Thrace? Or is this one of your wild tales?" I asked smiling, trying to dissipate his dark mood. I have never seen such creatures, but I had heard of them from father, when he retold us stories of the adventures of our Babylonian ancestors.

"I don't think there are. But these Thracians were mercenaries in Ctesiphon, and the Persians are known to use these beasts in their wars."

"And thus, you who are not even an elephant, have also chosen your ultimate place of rest."

"Sort of... yes... when my time comes, I'll do as the elephants, and go south."

THE PATRIOT

Year 41

For our return to Jerusalem, we agreed on a journey by sea, traveling in one of the many grain ships that went down the coast to Alexandria. It would be a much faster journey, although we knew that our speed would depend solely on the strength and direction of the prevailing winds. Unlike the triremes and other military vessels, merchant ships usually had no rowers because of their high costs.

On the day of our departure, we left the city in a small caravan and headed to the port of Seleucia Pieria, near the mouth of the river Orontes, where we later embarked on a ship headed initially for Byblos.

It was my first time at sea. I had never before traveled by boat, and I must say it was not as peaceful and relaxed as I had imagined. The sea was stormy and very choppy during most of the journey, and the constant swaying almost did not allow us to keep to our bunks for long. I eventually found a place on the upper deck, where holding to the cordage and the railings I somehow managed to survive the nausea and the seasickness. But I was so frail and unsure of foot that I fell down a few times when I came on shore in Byblos.

There we stayed for two more days, waiting for the gale to weaken, and again on board, this time pushed on by a mild southerly breeze we soon reached Tyre, and eventually Caesarea, fifteen days after leaving Antioch.

Coming to the entrance of the port of Caesarea, we saw that the harbor was filled with ships, many of them triremes and Roman galleys, and we had to wait another full day until we could berth at one of the piers. We were then informed by the Publicans that came on board to assess the cargo, that all the activity was due to the departure of a legion from Judaea to Syria.

We found the city in a festive mood. The colonnades of the harbor and the lighthouse were adorned with flags and colorful banners, and also the _forum_ and the palace up on the promontory were embellished. Crowds roamed peacefully through the streets and squares, and we could hear the enthusiastic clamor of the spectators in the hippodrome. But all that was not for us, intrepid journeymen, but to welcome the imminent arrival of the new King, Agrippa.

Once again, by the desire of most of my colleagues — and not to my liking — it was decided to stay in the city for a few more days, so that everyone could fully recover from the afflictions of the trip, and since no one could find any lodging nearby, we all ended up staying at my house.

Later in the day, as we went to the temple to give thanks for the safe journey, I could not help noticing that the building itself was as colorless and barren as usual, with no signs of any adornments. It was also noticeable how tense were some of the priests and functionaries, waiting for the arrival of a delegation from the Sanhedrin who was coming from Jerusalem to formally welcome the new monarch. According to the usual rumors that always precede such momentous affairs, this delegation counted with some very important officials, maybe, even the _Nasi_ himself. And right there, once more not to my liking, it was decided to wait for their arrival, and at the same time, we would take the opportunity to express our personal thanks to the King for his intervention.

Again, I had once more to wait for others, suddenly aware that waiting had actually been the main task of that delegation. Restless with all the festivities going on around me, I took to the hippodrome. I had always liked chariot racing, and I could get as aroused and fanatic as the more fiercer supporters, and I enjoyed gambling. I knew that it was frowned on by most of the community, but even Isaac did it sometimes, and he was a much more devout man that I, so why couldn't I do it too? And besides, I never spent large sums with such fickle addictions.

Eventually, the delegation arrived and so did Gamaliel, who was leading it. Although it was not easy, we managed to have a quiet conversation on the following afternoon.

"Ahasver, tell me about your trip, and of Joseph. How goes our dear friend? And also about those friends of our friend and what they are up to" he asked with some malice in his eyes.

I told him about the journey, by land and sea, of my impressions with the cities we had passed, the different customs and finally about Joseph.

" _Rabban_ , I do have a letter for you from Joseph, but I can tell you that I found him in health and in an amiable disposition. But still very much involved with the Messianics."

"I can believe it. Joseph always struck me as a man of strong passions. Although it's still a mystery to me why he embraced that faith."

"And they? Still preaching in Jerusalem too?"

"Yes, more than ever, I'm afraid. Endeavoring to convince people about their messiah and his promises of an ever lasting life in the beyond. Just nonsense. And in Antioch? Are they also preaching these same messages?"

"Yes, _Rabban_. But not so much in the streets anymore, now they have their temple, an _ecclesia_ , as they call it. They are becoming totally Hellenized. Even Joseph has difficulties with some Aramaic words. They also seemed very pleased with themselves. Allegedly they have managed to convert quite a lot of people.

"Yes, I had heard some rumors from our community there."

"Are they also converting people in Jerusalem?"

"We hear of it. They have a temple there, you said?"

"Yes, _Rabban_."

"They are really evolving as a separate religion now. But you know, here in Jerusalem most of the converts are former Essenes. For these it's easier, since they already have some common beliefs. After all, there are some who still claim that their messiah was an Essene."

"What about the other Judaean groupings? The Saducees and the Pharisees."

"There was Nicodemus, you know him?"

"The merchant?"

"Yes. We eventually expelled him from the Council. And this time I managed to do it discreetly, with no trial, and he left for Damascus. A loss for us, unfortunately."

"So Joseph was not an exception."

"Certainly not, just the first one. But you know, Ahasver, I am still amazed that this cult remains so active after all these years since the death of their leader. They are proving to be very resilient, these Messianics."

"What could explain that?"

"There must be several factors, surely. But I would say that the main reason is probably this stubborn tenacity, or fanaticism, in spreading their messages and recruiting adherents. Plus they are relatively peaceful, when you think of it. Most other Messianic movements ended in violence."

"I think it is also due to their simple creed, their sayings are fairly straightforward and thus popular with the less educated. And let us not forget their alleged miracles."

"What miracles?" asked Gamaliel.

"They are constantly talking about miracles. Their messiah cured the sick and the lepers, raised some dead and, of course, we mustn't forget his own resurrection."

"Yes, I heard of that resurrection. I do believe that it was at that point that Joseph went over to them. Didn't he ever explain to you what made him a believer in this sect ?"

"He did mention that it was some force, something within him that drove him to them."

"Yes, he told me something similar too."

"It doesn't make any sense, _Rabban_."

"Sometimes, I think that nothing makes much sense these days."

"Nothing?"

"Well, very little, almost nothing..." he concluded with a sad grin.

The arrival of Agrippa took most of the town into the vicinity of the port. Thousands lined the thoroughfares and filled the piers to watch him disembark from a golden trireme — allegedly the Emperor's own ship. Received and escorted by the military and his retinue, he first went to the _forum_ where the Roman Prefect was waiting for him. After the usual formal greetings and the platitudes of such events, Marullus said his farewells to the crowd and departed on that same day for Rome. Amidst all the noise and joy of the populace, we were now free from Roman dominion.

After the departure of the Prefect, Agrippa made a short speech where he expressed his satisfaction for finally being at home, mentioning also how honored we all should feel with the decision of the Emperor to grant us our freedom, confident that from now on the Judaeans would know how to govern themselves justly. He briefly recalled the history of the city, founded by his grandfather Herod, assuring all that Caesarea would remain a place of tolerance, where everyone was welcome, not just Judaeans, but also Romans, Greeks, Syrians, Egyptians and any and all who came in peace. He finished this discourse by reaffirming to be a devout Judaean, a dutiful follower of the Mosaic Laws, and announced that he would soon go to Jerusalem to sacrifice in the Temple and to give his thanks to the Lord for all that He had now bestowed on his people.

It was obvious by the clamor of the crowds that Agrippa had truly pleased them, and was now very popular, seen as the main responsible for our new found independence. This satisfaction was also evident in the faces of us all who now followed the cortege up to the palace, as it had been confirmed that Agrippa would see us on that very same day.

Herod's palace was set up on a promontory south of the harbor. It was a magnificent Greek-inspired building, almost sculptured in white stone and marble, and topped by a bright red tiled roof supported by Corinthian adornments and details. On one of its sides there was also a luxuriant garden filled with palms, orange and pomegranate trees, and a very large pool surrounded by an elegant colonnade amidst innumerable statuary.

It was in these lush grounds that we were received by the King.

Agrippa was a typical Herodian of dark complexion, just like his Idumean ancestors, and looked very much like his revered grandfather, or so some claimed. He received us in a resplendent gown of silvery cloth, wearing a richly embroidered toga in Tyrian purple, a sign of royalty in those days. He welcomed us in fluent Greek and broad smiles — in that, someone remarked, he was not at all like his grandfather.

Gamaliel, as _Nasi_ of the Sanhedrin, was the first to speak — also in Greek, as we had been advised to do since it was known that Agrippa spoke very poorly our own Aramaic — rendering the usual courtesies due to a royal personage. He also thanked the King for his timely intervention in regards to the issue of the Roman statue and pointed us out as the delegation who had been sent to Antioch. Agrippa thanked the Sanhedrin and confirmed once more his intention to visit Jerusalem as soon as possible.

Other delegations, mostly from the city, also intervened, and dusk was imminent when we finally left the palace and returned to the celebrating city. And although the merriment and the festivities would go on for several more days, we set off for Jerusalem with some speed. It was now urgent to organize the reception for Agrippa in the holy city.

After an absence of more than five months, I was quite emotional when I once again embraced my family and friends at home. Ruth had prepared a small reception, and Yeshua, my son, in a melodious voice almost free of puberty, sang a beautiful song of welcome and appreciation for my safe return. Five months away and all seemed fresh and also familiar. The pergola on the terrace greener and more lush, the house brighter, the servants more solicitous and the son more adult. It was good to be home.

The next few days were days of many stories. All wanted to know about the journey, the places where I had been, the different people I had met, how they lived and what they did for a living, also what they ate — I was now the intrepid traveler, an explorer of land and sea.

But soon enough the affairs of ordinary days soon took care of the routine.

In my various incursions into the city, I could see how little it had changed. It was still dusty, dirty, hot, cluttered with numerous and never ending construction works, and also the constant flux of pilgrims, clear signs of a forthcoming holiday. True, I could not see as many Romans as before, but they still maintained a garrison on the Antonia fortress, and many still paraded themselves up on the Temple's cloisters, where I found myself searching for Nazarenes.

Joseph had asked me to deliver to them a bundle of letters and even some manuscripts. It was not exactly the pleasantest of tasks for me, but I could not refuse it either. And soon enough I spotted a few of them under the south colonnade, clearly distinguished by their ever shabby attire.

Asking for Cephas, James or Simeon — those were the names that Joseph had mentioned — I was subject to a short interrogation, and had to give my name and explain the reason for my search. Almost reluctantly, they informed me that only Cephas was in the city at the moment, and I could find him there in the following morning.

And again we met. Luckily he did recognize me, for he had aged so much that I would not have been able to do the same. It had been more than five years since we had last seen each other, and this Cephas had very little in common with that robust and determined man I had met before. He was now ascetically thin with an almost entirely white beard and nearly hairless. And more than his appearance, his voice had also changed. It was now more portentous, almost like an orator, with the same intensity that I so admired in the speakers of Antioch when they proffered those allocutions of rhetoric and philosophy.

"Brother Ahasver! May peace be with you always" he greeted me ,while embracing as if we were long lost friends, under the curious scrutiny of his other brothers.

I replied with similar courtesies. I had always liked Cephas and his humble and kind disposition, and we gradually separated from his other brethren.

"Cephas, I have brought from Antioch some messages for you from Joseph."

"Master Ahasver, when brother John told me last night about your enquiry, I immediately thanked our Messiah, for I had thought that you were now ready to convert to our faith. We have all been looking so much forward to it."

His tone of voice, more tuned for preaching than for intimate talk, brought his brothers back, as they heard of conversion.

"Cephas, how wrong you are still. After all this time and you still keep your hopes. Well, let me tell you that I am here just to bring these, as I said" and I handed him the parcel as I prepared to walk away.

"Master Ahasver, I apologize for my enthusiasm, but may we talk for just a moment?" indicating to the others to leave us, "I assume that you don't want to be seen with us, so maybe we could talk over there, by that column."

"Only if it's not about my conversion..."

"No, I just wanted to ask how did you find brother Joseph and our congregation of Antioch. I'm sorry, but it's just that we haven't received any communication from them for a while now."

"I am sure that you'll find what you are looking for in these letters."

"Yes, I do hope so, but tell me, did you see our temple? Is it large?" he hastily asked, afraid that I would leave before he had a chance to question me further.

I did tell him what little I knew. He listened avidly, eyes reflecting the fervor and the anxiety of the devoted and the obsessed. And as I spoke he would almost involuntarily utter praises and thanks to the Lord. I don't know if they did it instinctively or to annoy us, but for a Judaean, the mere invocation of the Lord's name was never to be used lightly. To associate the most sacred of names in mundane dialogue and attach it to their messiah, was true heresy and hard to hear without some repulsion.

No wonder they would go on persecuting them.

Years 42 - 43

The advent of the harvest festival also brought the visit of King Agrippa to the holy city. This was the appropriate time for grand ceremonies and gestures, not forgetting that our first Temple was dedicated by King Solomon during this same feast. Aware of our traditions, Agrippa followed all the traditional rituals and even offered a heavy chain of pure gold, previously given to him by the Emperor, to be part of the _korban_ of the Temple. As a member of the Sanhedrin, I attended most of the ceremonial events of that week, personally witnessing how popular the King had become amongst the masses and even with the priestly class.

We now had, finally, a King who had ended the tyrannical rule of the Romans, and some even started to call him a messiah. Not to my liking, considering all that had happened before to those who claimed such epithet.

Agrippa was an astute politician, and he took several actions to ingratiate himself with the population in general, but he also cared for more personal interests, starting with the Saducees to whom he now gave the high priesthood, replacing Theophilus with Simon Cantheras, a very old and prosperous member of the Boethus family. With this appointment, Gamaliel asked to be relieved of the presidency of the Council, but Agrippa refused to accept it.

But I did leave the Council, and my recommendation that Isaac should succeed me was accepted. It was now time for another of father Simon's sons to distinguish himself.

Isaac, initially elated with his appointment, eventually turned out to be an ungrateful brother. A few months later he was complaining of the time he was wasting in endless meetings for no practical purposes.

I was now forty years-old, almost wealthy and a respected member of the community. I was the unofficial owner and manager of a business that had spread to the main cities of the Levant. We now traded primarily in grain, wine and cloth, and the nature of our activities had made our establishment in Caesarea the largest of all, even supplanting Jerusalem. So, I decided to move to this city, increasingly wealthier and more relevant politically, as the King's court held residence there for most of the year.

Also, not withstanding the efforts of Agrippa to soothe and contain the various religious groups, the intrigues and quarrels were on the increase in Jerusalem, especially the ones perpetrated by the Zealots who now focused their unrelenting fury on the Nazarenes, Essenes and disbelievers in general.

In that respect, Caesarea was much more tranquil given its more heterogeneous population, made up mostly of Gentiles from the various provinces of the empire. It also benefited from a milder climate, a very busy port and the proximity of the fertile plain of Sharon where most of the city's produce was grown. The plurality of its citizens also meant that the city was very liberal in terms of religiosity, with none of the impediments inherent to Jerusalem. There were numerous festivals, mostly of pagan origin, and a much used hippodrome where famous charioteers came to dispute large rewards and glory. And for those less intrepid, there were also the more amenable plays and dances, held regularly in the theatre and the _agora_.

I knew that, for Ruth and Yeshua, the first months would be cruel. They were leaving Jerusalem, their friends and their routines, but soon they would adjust and easily make new acquaintances and develop new interests. At this time, Yeshua was already helping me with the simpler chores at the emporium, and he tenaciously dedicated himself to improve his skills in _koine_ and latin, soon losing the slang and guttural accents of Jerusalem.

My reputation as a businessman and a former member of the Sanhedrin, propelled us to the highest echelons of the city, not just among the Judaean community, but also with the Greeks and the Syrians. The anonymity that I had always preserved in Jerusalem was now impossible to maintain. Unlike the holy city, the elites of Caesarea did not originate from religious or ancestral reputation, but rather from culture and prosperity. It was not strange then that I was often invited to become a member of the city council, but I always refused, as I knew that such bodies had little sway and were largely ineffective.

I confirmed my interest and delight with rhetoric and philosophy, acquired during my stay at Antioch, and I would go as often as possible to the _agora_ to hear discourses and lectures of the works written by the Greeks Plato, Socrates and Epicurus, or by the Romans Cicero and Lucretius. In the theatre, I learned to savor the wonderful declamations of the poems of Virgil, Horatius and Ovid, to applaud the tragedies of Sophocles and to laugh with the comedies of Menander and Antiphanes.

Unfortunately, Ruth did not share this passion for words, as she would call it, but Yeshua and Alexander, the son of Ioanis, usually accompanied me to these events, and eventually also became devoted admirers of the art of good speaking and better thinking. And with each new discovery, so increased my esteem for Hellenism, with the exception of their deplorable religion, based on a cadre of capricious gods who behaved as the weakest of humans, eternally seduced by the most profane vices of lust, jealousy and power. Compared with the rigidness and rectitude of our own millennial beliefs, the religions of the Greeks and the Romans always seemed to me as just another one of their tragedies.

But nevertheless, in temple, our priests would advert us constantly about the pagans and their corruptive influence in our customs. We were instigated to zeal for our faith and to be aware of the corruption of our youth and the levity of the more voluble of us. We were also warned about the Nazarenes, recently arrived in the city in large numbers, and that these, although some would call them Judaeans, were our enemies and adversaries as they continued to preach heretical teachings within our own community. And there were many who defended a more intolerable stand against them. While the Gentiles were the lost children of Abraham, the Nazarenes were originally all Judaeans and owed their allegiance to the true faith and the Temple.

There was also talk of new purges in Jerusalem, now with the King's knowledge and patronage, seeking to end the preaching and remove the key leaders of the Nazarenes, either by banishment or by condemning them as heretics, and therefore subject them to harsher punishments.

Yeshua, always precocious and with the curiosity natural to his age, sometimes asked me about the Nazarenes, and so did Alexander. And one day, both came to me to ask about the afterlife and what happens to us when we die.

"What happens? What do you mean?" I asked intrigued by the question.

"Yes, father. What happens to us?"

"Well, when we die our spirit goes on to the _sheol_. And there it stays. It's the land of nothingness and from where nothing ever returns. But surely you know this from your studies."

"All of us? The good and the bad go into the same place?" asked Alexander.

"Yes, everyone."

"It that fair, father?"

"Of course. But it is not the end. With the coming of the true messiah, we will all be judged for our deeds in life, and only then we will be released from the _sheol_."

"And that's when the good people are rewarded?"

"I don't understand what's all this about. As I have said, the true messiah will bring with him a new era of peace and prosperity for all, the living and the dead."

"Even for us, the nonbelievers, Ahasver?" asked Alexander once again.

"All, Alexander. But Yeshua, you have surely read all about this. Why these questions now?"

"Father, the Messianics claim that when we die the good people go to a different place from the bad ones. Some into the darkness of the earth and others rise to the light of heaven."

"Who said that to you?"

"Master Mordechai."

"Your tutor in Jerusalem?"

"Yes, father."

"Was he a Messianic?"

"I don't know. But he mentioned this several times."

"Did he ever speak of the coming of the messiah?"

"Yes, father. He did, especially when we studied the sayings of Isaiah."

"Well, that time has not arrived, despite what the Messianics claim" and I was a bit more relieved that they had not discussed the preacher Yeshua.

"We do not believe in messiahs, Ahasver."

"I know you don't, Alexander."

"But we do have our own _sheol_ , you know. It's called Hades. And it has rivers in it, and a ferry also to take the spirits across to hell. But you have to pay a coin."

"What?" asked Yeshua.

"My father told me. That's why we have to place a coin in the mouth of the deceased, to pay for the ferryman."

"I would not pay! That's complete nonsense and irrational. Who is foolish enough to pay someone to take him to hell?" asked Yeshua indignantly.

I had to laugh ! I could see that someone was learning from those lectures in the _agora_. It certainly seemed to be a total farce these beliefs of the Greeks when even children could detect their incongruence.

Year 44

In an environment of an ever growing religious antagonism, I was not surprised when some of the Nazarene leaders were jailed in Jerusalem, and the Sanhedrin called for their condemnation as heretics and punish them accordingly. Agrippa, at the time in Caesarea, in hearing of these arrests departed to Jerusalem, personally interested in questioning them. I believe that this sudden interest was more of a political nature than for religious reasons. Agrippa had recently being humiliated by the Romans when they forbade him to reinforce and extend the ramparts of Jerusalem, and in Tiberias he was also admonished by the Governor of Syria, Vibius Marcus. A personal campaign against heretics in the holy city would certainly be a popular gesture and even applauded by some of his critics, who had been complaining of his largesse towards some cities where he had funded the construction of temples to Roman divinities.

In Caesarea, Agrippa's departure, also motivated the more zealous to search for local Nazarenes, and some were caught and jailed to await trial. But the jailers were careless, and most of them escaped, raising suspicions of collusion amongst the local militia. Such sloppiness could only be explained as a sign of tolerance for their creed, as it was known that the majority of the Nazarenes were almost mendicants, and could hardly afford to bribe officials.

Meanwhile in Jerusalem, the trials were quickly over, and based on the testimonials of several witnesses, James was convicted as one of the leaders of the Nazarenes in the city. The other prisoner, an old friend of mine, Cephas, mysteriously escaped, and without delay, Agrippa ordered this James to be executed by the sword, and the good news to be spread throughout the whole kingdom. On that same day, an ordinance was read in the _forum_ in Caesarea, forbidding once and for all any more preaching of the sayings of Yeshua. Immediately, riots broke out in the seedier parts of town, and the Zealots, now under the cover of legality, once more started their persecutions in earnest. But the Nazarenes did not desist so quickly and, along with their preaching, they also started to augur divine punishments for their persecutors, including Agrippa and his minions.

Despite the violence that kept sporadically erupting in town, our community was relieved with the position taken by Agrippa, and I believed that we were now seeing the final days of the Nazarene sect. Without a presence in the main cities, the brotherhood would eventually enter a final stage of clandestinity and would disappear just like it had happened before with all the other previous movements. If, on the one hand, it was something to rejoice, on the other, all I could think was of Joseph, unaware of these portentous events. I wondered if the sect would survive in the distant lands where they were already present.

So I decided to write to him with these latest news. Certainly influenced by my recent penchant for philosophy, I even added some conjectures about the inevitable downfall of Messianism and recommended that he should reflect and ponder about his choice. With our new strong monarch leading the people and the faith, it was only a matter of time before Judaea was free from heretics and dissenters.

Surely, Joseph would come to reason, and we would get him back into the path of righteousness.

The return of Agrippa to Caesarea was once more triumphant, and this time the Judaean community was the more boisterous, out on the streets exalting the victory over the heretics and blasphemers, and loudly saluting the King as a true defender of the faith. The Gentiles, caught by surprise with all this unusual exuberance, also joined the festivities. I can say that I was extremely proud and also shared the moment and the joy enthusiastically, jubilant with all the clamor around us. I felt, at that particular moment, that we were really free and independent. I did not recall the time of King Herod, as I was too young to remember it, and all this patriotism was totally new to me, having been raised in a city always dominated by foreigners. I was not naive to think that the Romans were totally out of the picture, but at least, we now, more than ever, really had the fate of our people in our own hands. We could, and would again, be the chosen and free people of the Lord, united in our beliefs and in our own land.

Those were days of pride and elation. I had not realized of how the Nazarenes had really affected me all this time. Although I hardly saw them now, they were always an annoying presence, a remote discomfort, especially as I was surrounded by Joseph's belongings and remembrances, and his defection to their creed was a constant reminder of their insidiousness. And somehow, I also suffered pangs of guilt and some remorse for having supported them, even if involuntarily. And I pitied Joseph also, earnestly praying that somehow he would relinquish and return to the true faith.

And suddenly, it all started to fall apart.

What had been so far one of the happiest years of my life, would soon turn into a nightmare worthy of the most harrowing prophetic visions.

It all began on a sunny and cloudless morning, with the distant sounds of enthusiastic crowds roaming the streets of the city. It was the first day of a festival offered by Agrippa to commemorate the anniversary of the Emperor Claudius, and the whole town was ecstatic with the number of exhibitions and activities programmed for those days, including the usual games and competitions, but also gladiator fights, horse and chariot races, allegorical marches and dances in the streets, and even laudatory discourses, plays, and declamations in the theatre. Agrippa, after having fallen out with his old friend Claudius, wanted now to make amends in the strongest way possible, unequivocally demonstrating his allegiance towards the empire, and for that, he didn't care for expenses or effort.

When we entered the hippodrome, on that first day of the festival, most of the seats were already taken by the clamorous crowds, and the excitement was palpable in anticipation of the races and games. Banners and flags of garish colors, pennants with patterns and military standards, all fluttered in the cool breeze of the early morning.

In that immense space there were no factions. There were no Romans, nor Judaeans, nor Greeks, nor Syrians, nor Egyptians, we were all just spectators, all united by our lust for entertainment. And the booming reception given to Agrippa was the evidence of such union. As he entered the royal box, the whole hippodrome stood up, and the acclamation echoed for long minutes. I had never seen or heard such enthusiasm. I imagined myself in one of the great arenas of Rome, among frenzied multitudes saluting one of the mighty Emperors, rather than this King of one of the smallest protectorates of that vast empire.

Agrippa was now, more than ever, the King of us all, the incarnation of our contentment, a dazzling figure, and not just in a figurative sense, but real, enveloped in a halo of light created by the sun's reflection on his silvery garments.

The spectacle began with dances, giving time for the spectators to settle down, and soon started the first fights. Initially these were wrestling matches, without any weaponry, where the nimbleness and skill of the fighters was rewarded with thunderous applause, flowery garlands and coins thrown into the sand. Then the races started. The first was the speed trials where the mastery of the riders over their horses brought shouts of encouragement and howls of pleasure, followed by the chariot races, my favorites.

Once the second race was done, and the victorious Blues came to pay homage to Agrippa, a deep and low hum echoed throughout the stands, as the crowd noticed his absence. Although I was close to the royal box, I had been too immersed with the race to see him leaving, but someone confirmed that he had been gone for some time. It was strange. There were still some of the main attractions to come, especially the much anticipated fights that had brought some prominent gladiators to the city.

"What is the problem, father?" asked Yeshua with all the impatience of a nineteen year-old.

"The King has left the arena for some reason."

"Will the races stop now?" asked Alexander.

"We have to wait and see."

"Father?"

"Yes, Yeshua."

"Have you ever seen a gladiators' fight before?"

"I saw them practicing once in Antioch, but I haven't yet seen a real fight."

"Ahasver is it true that they can be killed in these fights? The ones who lose?"

"It depends. If they are wounded, they can be spared if they fought bravely. But some are killed, yes."

"Are they paid?" asked Yeshua "Or they fight because they are criminals?"

"Both type. I would say. There are some who are freedmen, and others are slaves and criminals" I answered not too sure either.

"Will there be animals too?"

"What animals?"

"Sometimes they fight animals. Lions, bears, father told me."

"Really?" asked Yeshua.

"Where is your father, Alexander? Why didn't he come?"

"He said he wasn't feeling too well, but I think that mother didn't want him to come" said Alexander smiling.

"Why is that? He didn't seem in bad health this morning."

"No, but he bets badly."

So the fights finally began as programmed, but without the usual salute to the King, as he had not returned. It was not a spectacle that I particularly enjoyed, but it certainly was one of the crowd's favorites, with the shouting and the screaming increasing as the fights became fiercer amongst the Murmillones, the Retiarii and the Thracians, with these last carrying the day. But the boys certainly enjoyed it, given their shouting and restlessness.

But something was wrong, and the audience could feel it too. While some continued to voice their enthusiasm, others started to question the unexpected absence of the King. Suddenly, faster than the gust of any breeze, the news spread that the King was unwell. And since no one knew exactly of the nature of his ailment, ignorance soon bred the most improbable rumors. A simple and plain indisposition. A light fever. Something that he ate. Food poisoning. Poisoned. Moribund. Dead. But in fact, nothing was disclosed at the time, and the crowds were now too restless to be appeased by mere gossip, and soon were calling for Agrippa, shouting his name and rising to their feet repeating incessantly for his return, until finally a tribune announced that the King was indisposed, and the games would continue.

In the next few days, with no further news as to his health, groups were formed and informal delegations were sent to the palace to know of his condition, but little was disclosed, and all we knew is that he was still ill and abed, but the cause or the nature of his ailment was not known.

The games still went on for the next two days, but with much less enthusiasm. The city was now averse to euphoria, and many gathered by the palace gates in search of fresh news and to pray for divine intervention. And the same went on in the pagan temples, where numerous animals were immolated for the pleasure and appeasement of the gods. With equal fervor, and the same purpose, we also gathered daily in the temple and even some priests were rushed to Jerusalem. But it was too late. On the same day that a delegation from the Sanhedrin arrived in Caesarea, it was announced that the King had died.

It is not easy to describe in mere words the general feeling of us all in those days, but the signs of grief were all too evident throughout the city. While the Judaeans tore their vests and gowns in mourning, the pagans intoned mournful hymns and dressed themselves up in white or black vests, according to their own religious customs. Prayers were heard in temples, the _agora_ and in the _forum_ , and elegiac discourses were proffered with fervor and devotion. Priests were called to the palace, and the funereal preparations were quickly performed. According to the King's desire he was to be interred, in accordance with our own custom, in the mausoleum of the Herodes and a mourning period of ten days was decreed.

During this time much was said and even more was rumored about his death, and the general opinion pointed to poisoning, given the state of decay of his body even before he was dead. But who could have done it? His natural successor and son was in Rome, and too young to be considered as a viable replacement, and so our suspicions tended towards the Romans.

Soon enough we started to feel the lack of authority, and despite the attempts by some generals and officials to guarantee the continuity of government, the Romans began to challenge some of these measures and impose others of their own. During the period of official mourning, the tribune in charge of the garrison in the city began by restricting and limiting the assembly of large groups in the _forum_ and the _agora_. Such measures, they claimed, were needed to guarantee the peace and the safety of all citizens.

These actions did not put an end to the suspicions of the people who increasingly considered the Romans responsible for the king's death, and I admit to being one of the many who also stood by this opinion and fearlessly voiced it to whoever was willing to hear it. I was genuinely concerned with our condition as a nation free from Roman rule.

The more radical and extremist groups also spoke of divine intervention and punishment. Agrippa

had been too lenient with the heathens, some claimed. The games had not been to the liking of the gods, said the frivolous. Also, that some had proclaimed him a god, and he had not refused the epithet. And, as if these were not sufficient, even the Nazarenes claimed that he was punished for killing one of the brothers of their messiah.

Again the Romans took over. In an edict published in the _forum_ , the Governor of Syria, Vibius Marcus, announced that the Emperor had now decreed that Judaea would become a Roman protectorate, and the Procurator in charge had already been appointed and would be arriving in Caesarea soon.

We were, needless to say, inconsolable with this news.

Only a month before we were a free people, governed by a just King, an adept of peace and tolerance, a faithful defender of our beliefs and customs, and now we were once again subjects of a pagan Emperor.

It was no surprise that the news was received with deep despair, and while the Judaeans mourned the loss of its King and country, the other communities cautiously distanced themselves from us, fearful of our reaction and of the imminent risk of mutinies and rebellions.

THE FATHER

Year 45

In the midst of all this, I was struck with the most fateful and calamitous affliction that can happen to any family. Even today, after so many long and countless years, it is still almost unbearable to recall those dreadful days. Long days, days of opposites, days of hope, of fear and dread.

Yeshua, my son, had always been a precocious and curious youth, and our staying in Caesarea had freed him from the constraints of the rigid education he had received from his grandfather Simon. In this freer environment, he diligently applied himself to the study of languages, philosophy and the sciences, in collusion with his companion and friend Alexander, the son of my secretary Ioanis.

He was as stubborn as a scholar, according to Ioanis, and this was not said in praise but in reprimand for some chore that he had failed to do at the emporium, or when the two of them escaped to the _agora_ or the _gymnasium_ to listen to some visiting orator. Often, Ioanis even suggested that I should pack him off to Alexandria to be locked in that big library of theirs until he was fed up with philosophical trifle. But that would never happen.

Though I was very aware of these peccadilloes, I was the last to discourage him. I believed that I had more than enough time to mold him to the needs and the vicissitudes of life. Let them be, I would say to a frustrated Ioanis, and in time they will learn just as we all had to do.

But despite all this too obvious verve, I only became aware of his more introspective nature when, during a dinner, he abruptly claimed that we Judaeans were in general unappreciative and intolerant of free thinking, and even disdainful of the importance of logic and reason. We were, in his opinion, constrained by too many laws that limited our intellectual growth, and we had not evolved much culturally, specially when compared with the achievements of the Greeks or even of the Romans. Portentous thoughts indeed !

Even Ruth, who had never ceased from spoiling him shamelessly, was stunned with these statements.

"But what is this now?" she asked "Do not be disrespectful, child!"

"Mother, how many times have I asked you not to call me a child? I'm almost nineteen. I could even be married by now."

"You know that you will always be my child" she said it tenderly.

She did it on purpose, of course, knowing all too well how much it flustered him.

"Father, don't you agree with me?" casting her a final stare of indifference.

"Your father always agrees with you. That doesn't mean that you have any right in saying those things."

"Father? Say something, please" he pleaded wistfully.

"Let your father eat his meal in peace."

"Ruth, let him speak. What is it, Yeshua?"

"Father, you are always speaking of Antioch, how beautiful the city is, how courteous the people are, and you even mentioned that the Judaeans there are more tolerant to other religions and cults. A city where everyone is accepted for what they are, and that is why it is one of the largest in the world. And we don't even need to go so far. Even here in Caesarea everyone is more relaxed and tolerant than in Jerusalem. I'm sure that you agree with me, otherwise I very much doubt that we would be living here."

"So, what's your point?" I questioned him.

"Am I wrong?"

"Eat, child. Why don't the both of you discuss this later, up in the terrace, since your father allows you such liberties. In my time..."

"Mother, in your time you couldn't even speak at the table. Grandfather wouldn't allow it. We all know that."

Few things are worse for a woman than to be reminded that her time had passed.

"But tell me," I interrupted what I knew could become a long winded rant between mother and son, "is this something you picked up in the _gymnasium_? With your Greek friends? Or is this your own opinion?"

"Ahasver, really! And since when does the boy have such opinions?" she added indignantly.

"Mother!"

"Yes, I know. I know nothing!" she interrupted him abruptly, "Just because the other day you were talking about one of those Greeks that I thought was a friend of your father."

"Who was this?" I asked curiously.

"I was talking to Alexander about the suicide of Socrates, and mother got all upset about it. She thought it was someone else."

"Imagine that, Ahasver, he was all upset because I didn't know who this Socrates was."

"Ruth, but I have spoken of him before, a great philosopher..."

"How can I remember all of them, there are so many" she quickly flared.

"I see, I wonder if you actually listen to me sometimes" I complained jokingly.

" _Patera_?" Yeshua went on, now in _koine_ knowing that Ruth could hardly understand it.

"No, no... I have told you. If you want to go on with this talk, you wait until we finish dinner, and then you and your father can talk for as long as you want up there. And, by the way, Yeshua, it is most disrespectful speaking in that language at this table. I'll not have it!"

Partly because of my own enthusiasm for Greek culture in general, I had encourgaed Yeshua to enroll in the local public _gymnasium_ , funded by the Greek community. This _gymnasium_ , besides being a place where physical activities were encouraged, was also a school for the teaching of medicine, astronomy, rhetoric, oratory and philosophy. And usually, the three of us would sit in the late afternoons on the terrace and discuss what they had learned on the day - by the three of us, I refer to Alexander, not to Ruth.

She very rarely joined in, alleging that she had not received such proper learning that allowed her to participate in our discussions, or, as she would mockingly claim, she was not as sophisticated as us, and at the same time criticized us for being too Greek, so much so that Aramaic was now seldom spoken in the house. Of course, invariably I was the guilty one, by not keeping them sufficiently occupied with the emporium, or for allowing for this useless chatter when there so many other things that they could be busy with.

And when these discussions turned to religion, those were even less tolerated by Ruth, bitterly complaining that the pagans at the _gymnasium_ were corruptors of the faith of the young and the innocent. I had a different position altogether. I had always thought that the religious beliefs of the Greeks and the Romans were so ludicrous, and such a farce, that nobody in their perfect mind could ever believe in so many gods, demigods and divine bastards that they had gathered over the centuries. On the contrary, I actually believed that the more the Greeks exalted their religion, the more sensible and believable was our own ideology.

But the recent demise of Agrippa had abruptly changed some of these habits. The _gymnasium_ now closed much earlier than before, and in the _agora_ there were less lectures and even fewer who attended them. We were all living under uncertainty, and talk of rebellion against the Romans was still heard throughout the city. The Romans, all too aware of this, now more than ever continued with their repressive attitudes and did not allow any gatherings. The temples were closely watched, and to augment the local garrison, the tribune recruited a local militia of volunteers, mostly made up of civilian Romans and Greeks. Eventually we had two distinct factions, and all too frequently, disturbances occurred between the two groups. Fights began with verbal assaults from both sides, and if not soon dispersed, they would turn into nasty scuffles and even the throwing of stones.

It was now dangerous to be out in the streets at certain times, something that I had never seen or felt in Caesarea, and when I had to leave the house I usually took with me one or two of the servants. Ruth, always more of a recluse, would not go to the market or even to the temple, but it was Yeshua who worried me the most, insisting on his usual outings.

"And where are those two going now?" asked Ruth looking out the window.

"Who?"

"Your son and Alexander."

"I don't know. They didn't say anything?"

"No, and soon it will be time for dinner."

"They know that. Since when those two were ever late for a meal? They have probably gone over to Ioanis house."

"That Alexander is a bad influence. Too restless."

"What are you saying? Alexander is a good boy."

"He always wants to go out to the _gymnasium_ with Yeshua. I hear them speak. And, by the way, Yeshua must go to temple more often. It would do no harm to him to learn more of the scriptures."

"Well, that's not the case today, is it?"

"You should make him go, Ahasver."

"To the temple?"

"Yes!"

"All right, I'll take him one of these days" once more being ambiguous.

But we never went.

On that same day they brought him in.

It was late in the afternoon, a dusk filled with the ever eternal murmur of the sea, the soft whining of breezes perfumed by the chinaberries, and the almost aggressive trill of the blackbirds retiring to their slumber. All the smells and the sounds, the signs of the living, of existence. And not all the moments I have lived since, nor all the good and ugly remembrances I carry, will ever hide the first sighting of that cruel wound on his forehead, or erase the metallic smell of his blood-soaked hair, blood that was too black and dense, obscenely streaming down his face to the throbbing pulse of final gasps and erratically blinking eyes.

And the loud wailing that received that body also masked that same breeze, the trilling and even the sweet smells of the berries. All that remained were the sounds of spastic breathing, and the recriminations and regrets that my imagination now insisted in carrying. Suddenly, I saw my real enemy and his name was Time.

How clear was that revelation!

How was it possible that I had never before understood so well the true and horrifying value of Time? And this Time, that fraction of that very moment, I could not let escape. I had to hold it. Secure it. Make it eternal and everlasting... Everything else now seemed superfluous, for as long as I could hold onto Time, hope would live. There would be a tomorrow. There would be a Yeshua.

_Time... thou shall not want for time_ — Who said that? Where was he who promised me that? Was it real or just another of life's cruel jests?

And amidst my feverish thoughts I caught erratic shapes that came and left, dull-grayed shadows that carried him to a bed, and arched eyebrows that stared at me with haunted eyes. I also felt Ruth feverishly holding unto me, shaking me, adamant in bringing me back to that unwanted haunted reality.

The succeeding hours lasted just seconds... or was it centuries? What was real? Where was reality?

There are some who claim that time drags on in the more difficult moments of our life. But I can guarantee that this is not true! The more we want it to slow down, the faster it moves and moves. It was that fast, in two so short days and nights — two miserable seconds it seemed — when I could hold it no longer, and it departed carrying my Yeshua. And too cruelly, it just as quickly returned, alone, when I had no further need for it in that house. It was back, more ominous and more present in those interminable days and immeasurably long nights of mourning and loss.

I don't really know how long that turpitude lasted, centuries or eternities, but I do recall of how amazed I was when I came out of that pit and saw that the world was still there. So similar to what I remembered of it.

It was as it had always been.

The same Ruth. The same scattered furniture. The same servants, and even the same house. How do we lose a part of ourselves and all remains the same, alien and indifferent to our loss? How was it possible that there was still a sky, a sea, the same trilling, the same ululating winds and the same whispering leaves?

Ironically, it was also my old enemy, Time, who in the end softened the senses and numbed my feelings, helped by Ruth who had stubbornly held unto the reins of reality.

Today I know that I managed to hold unto sanity because of her.

Ruth was my anchor, my safe haven in that inconsolable storm.

She began by being an ever present shadow, always near, always vigilant, a presence that interrupted my nightmares, and held onto me, both of us glued by feelings and tears, whispering words of encouragement and sweet nothings.

Thus, little by little, I returned from that dark place, that oblivion of feelings and senses.

Poorer, cruder, more melancholic, and wretched with envy for all those who seemed secure and firm in this reality we inhabit.

Slowly I crawled back and took to explore every stone, every route, every road and street of that city, searching for that magical moment of recognition, when memory suddenly resurrected what had once existed, granting me glimpses of happier times. And sometimes I would be so engrossed and abstract in that unconscious search that I would find myself lost, when I got pulled back into the real and the now.

It was at such an awakening, somewhere in that city, that my eyes focused on the gaze of Cephas.

"Cephas!" I gasped in surprise to find a familiar face amidst my turmoil.

"Brother Ahasver, may peace be unto you in this difficult moment" he greeted me in that so pleasant oratorical voice.

"Cephas, how long..." searching for words that made some sense, still inebriated with that sudden return from where I knew not.

"It hasn't been that long. I've seen and greeted you a few times, but I don't think you noticed or wanted to acknowledge me."

"No, no... I do apologize, it's only that I have been inattentive. Sometimes I think I see familiar faces, but not always sure if they are real or just my imagination playing some trick."

"I understand, you are in mourning, I can see that your gown is torn, but not as much as your spirit, I think. But I would like you to believe that your son is safe, close to Yeshua."

"How do you know about my son?"

"We have heard about it."

"Cephas, listen, I need to ask you something... something that has been on my mind for a long time, that has been tormenting me."

"Certainly, if you think I can help..."

"Please, do help me as I've always helped you..."

"Brother, but of course..."

In short and fast sentences, I told him of the words that his messiah had said to me on that day, and I asked if he had any opinion about their meaning. Why? I do not know. I guess I was holding to straws, considering all possibilities, as far fetched as my imagination and my irrationality could afford.

"Brother Ahasver, our Messiah very often spoke to us, and to his followers, through parables and allegories. I can assure you that His words were of wisdom and sacred significance, and He did not speak in vain or of trifling matters. I am sure that these words that you have just told me are also relevant in some way."

"Is there someone in your brotherhood who could interpret them?" I asked eagerly, fervently and irrationally, hoping that the Nazarenes, amidst their stranger beliefs, were also proficient with augurs and divinations.

"There might. Someone enlightened by the divine Spirit" he answered meditatively.

"But they might not mean anything at all, as well..." I offered, almost regretting having started that conversation.

"Everything He said is important for us sinners," he confirmed with that expression of conviction and confidence that I envied right there, "and if you allow me, I'll share these words with my scholarly brothers. Some are closer to His wisdom."

That meeting with Cephas was, somehow, rewarding. It shocked me back into reality, and I returned home determined to share my questions and doubts with Joseph, someone who I had forgotten during my despair.

THE PIOUS

Year 45

Once more we had a Roman ruler, Cuspius Fadus, the new Procurator of Judaea. Recently arrived with military reinforcements he quickly pacified the various communities, and lifted the civil restrictions that had been imposed after the death of Agrippa.

With time, now my ally, memories and moments gradually faded from conscious remembrances, and life resumed its delicate order, just as I had hoped and expected. After all, we Judaeans should never dedicate excessive time for our dead, and a too long period of mourning was frowned upon by the community. But I continued to wear mostly black, a color — if it can really be called so — that I had always detested. Colors now seemed offensive, too vivacious, and even redundant for a life now lived in hues of black and white.

Still with Time on my side, I returned to older habits, and started once more to attend lectures in the _agora_ , searching in discourses of logic for possible reasons for what had struck me. And it did help, I started to feel more at ease with the inevitability of fate, and I could finally hear of Yeshua almost with the impassivity of the resigned.

"Ruth, did you know that the Greeks have a god for time?" I asked her after returning from the _agora_ where I had been listening to a discourse by a famous scholar of Alexandria.

"I didn't know, but I'm not surprised. After all, they have gods for everything."

Although she did not sound too interested, I wanted to tell her more. I was actually happy in having identified and personalized this old adversary and companion of mine.

"His name is Chronos, and he was the creator of all."

"So, is he their supreme god now? I thought that was Zeus."

"Zeus is the King of gods, as they call him, but Chronos came first."

"These Greeks are really inventive, aren't they? I am surprised that you still pay any attention to such trifle," and she went on, "and, by the way, do you know that the Messianics are now talking of you?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"They are saying that you were the last person to speak to their messiah."

"Who told you that?"

"I heard it... " and by her tone I could feel that she had regretted having said it.

"Since when do you know any Nazarenes?"

"And if I do? You are the last one in this house who can criticize me for that."

"Well? Do you?"

"Yes I do! And I'll tell you something else. I take comfort from their sayings."

I could not believe it! My Ruth, my pillar...

"Ruth..."

"Ahasver tell me! Do you really think that our son deserves to be in _sheol_? That he will have to stay there, suffering just like any criminal in that land of nothingness, waiting until the end of days for a messiah that was promised to us since the time of Abraham?"

"Ruth, it is written so!"

"Ahasver, Isaiah prophesied the coming of the messiah. It has happened just like he said with the coming of the prophet Yeshua."

I did not know what to answer her. I was astonished with this sudden attitude, her emphatic words, for knowing Nazarenes and even their creed! How had that happened? And she went on.

"Ahasver, how do you think I learned about them? It was Yeshua, our son, who told me about them. He believed in them. He believed that there was an afterlife. I don't know if influenced by Alexander and their ways, but he didn't accept _sheol_. And I'll tell you something else, you are also responsible for this, it's on your head too!"

"How?" I stammered.

"Yes, Ahasver! Don't you remember how he used to question you about an afterlife? How Alexander was always saying that it wasn't fair that the just and the bad should receive the same reward after death?"

"How do you see me involved in that?"

"Well, you certainly were very liberal with his religious education. You preferred to see him in one of your lectures or at the _gymnasium_ rather than attending temple. And let us not forget Mordechai! That tutor of his was for a long time a scribe in the service of the Messianics in Jerusalem, and he wrote a lot of things about their messiah. Some of those he passed on to Yeshua."

"You never mentioned any of that to me."

"I thought you knew, or at least were not too concerned about it. After all, Mordechai was a friend of Joseph and recommended by him to your father."

"Well, yes, but I had no idea that he was a Nazarene. If I had known I would never have accepted him. Yeshua never hinted at it either."

"Yeshua never understood you. He saw you receive them, supporting them, even if you never spoke any good about them."

"You know very well why I had to do it. I never hid it from you."

"Yes, I did know, but Yeshua liked the stories that Mordechai passed on to him. He was a child, credulous and gullible, awed with their miracles, their courage and their sayings."

"Why didn't you do something about it? It seems to me now that he wasn't the only one who liked those stories."

"Well, in the beginning I wasn't too happy, but the stories that he repeated to me were quite harmless. I did come to admire their convictions, their messages of solidarity, and the promise of an eternal life. True or fabricated, they were morally sound. I saw no harm in him hearing them."

"Really? Even the miracles?"

"Those I played down. They were just stories witnessed by gullible people, without any or much education, and I told him exactly that."

"And that was it? No one converted I hope" I said sarcastically, desperately hoping that she would laugh it off.

"No. Neither did Yeshua don't worry."

"Well then, so that you know what is my opinion, I will not tolerate any deviation from the true faith in this house. I hope that is clear."

"Ahasver, you are the master of this house, and as your wife I swore to obey and to follow your rules. Of course, I will do as you wish, just as I have done all these years."

"You must, above all, follow the commandments and the scriptures, and they are very clear about worshiping and following false prophets. Not to mention a heretic who called himself son of the Lord, and who is now being deified by his followers just like any Roman Emperor. And I think that it is time that we go to Jerusalem and to the Temple. I will not stand idly by and allow you to lose your faith."

The arrangements for our journey to Jerusalem were quickly done, since it was not my intention to say there for long. Even so, those days dragged on, and I could not stop myself from recalling some of the bitter words we had exchanged. If Ruth had not converted to that faith, and I believed her, at least she seemed receptive to some of their ideas. How does one lead with apostates in the family? If I had to follow the laws of our faith, I would have to renounce her, even expel her or worse. If I accepted it, then I too would be an accomplice, and not just of a public misdemeanor but of offending the Lord.

And Yeshua? Was it a life wasted if he died believing in the damnation of _sheol_? From my lessons and the teaching of the scriptures, I knew that once we die our spirit was taken to that land of nothingness, and there it would roam until the final judgment. All those who had not been faithful and true believers and practiced good and honorable deeds during their lifetime would be destroyed forever. There was no room for a paradise, as the Nazarenes claimed, in our afterlife. If Ruth had any doubts about this, then I could understand why the Nazarene creed had some appeal and offered some comfort to her.

This trip to Jerusalem was just an excuse to do what seemed to be the only possible and reasonable thing at the time. I was hopeful that a visit, the rightful devotion in the Temple and the practice of our rituals would bring her some peace and even some closure.

During our journey, we were often questioned by other travelers about a prophet that had come from the desert near the city of Jericho. At first, I even thought that they were speaking of Yeshua again, but I then understood that this was another of our messiahs, announcing that he would divide the waters of the river Jordan for his followers to pass through, just as Moses had done when he came from Egypt.

I took the opportunity once more to admonish Ruth about false prophets.

"You see this ? Another fool followed by fools."

"Ahasver, do not say that, don't do it. Are you also calling our benefactor and friend Joseph a fool? Have you forgotten how much we owe him? His kindness?"

"No, I haven't, and I always did my utmost to fulfill his wishes, even when I had to deal with heretics. Because of him, I have risked my reputation and of being identified with that cult."

"Well, we have been well paid to do it."

"Are you speaking of money or of something else?"

It had crossed my mind more than once, that Yeshua's death could have been some sort of punishment for my involvement with the heretics. But I could not believe that our Lord could be so heartless.

Bitterness and resentment, more than rocks, olive groves or sheep, I encountered on those winding roads, and never the roads to the holy city had seemed so inhospitable and barren.

I missed my Ruth, right there beside me, enshrouded in silence.

I missed Yeshua, ever more distant in my memory and in the anguish and pain of the departed. Each crevice, hill and turn of the path brought back memories of another journey, when the three of us had impatiently rushed to a new and joyful life in Caesarea. And even before reaching Jerusalem, I wanted to return to what had been and would never again be.

The urgency that had brought me to Jerusalem was the same that took me on our arrival to the house of Gamaliel, even before I considered going to Temple. I was totally lost, entangled with indecision, and Gamaliel, a wise and learned man, was the right person to hear of my predicaments. At that point, more urgent than fulfilling my duties as a devoted believer, I had to understand what could be salvaged in Ruth.

"Ahasver, it has been awhile since we last saw one another in Caesarea. You have suffered the greatest of tragedies. Let no one doubt what a tragedy it is for a father to survive a son. Our children are a part of us, the guarantors of our immortality, the seeds we leave in this world. I know that words of comfort are easy to utter, but seek comfort in our faith, and remember the words of Menander when he, so wisely, taught us that too soon depart those who are most loved by the gods."

"Thank you, _Rabban_ , for your words of wisdom and comfort" I mumbled.

"Ahasver, the designs of the Lord are and always will be a mystery for us mortals. Some of us do try to interpret them, actually we all do it somehow and often, but we'll never know His true will and purpose."

"Certainly, _Rabban_ , and you are indeed an inspired interpreter."

"I am not so sure. Sometimes I think I could use the muses of the Greeks and the aid of their oracles. Yes, yes. Surprised with my pagan reveries?" he asked shrewishly and with a little malice in his voice.

"There's little these days that surprise me, _Rabban_ " I also answered with a smile.

"Well, I am not only interested, nor do I only study that in which I truly believe. I have learned over the years that to recognize what is right we must also learn the wrong. Greek and Roman paganism doesn't mean anything to me, and I am grateful for knowing it. But their wisdom and knowledge are undeniable. What I read and saw in Alexandria, when I was a younger man and even more curious than now, left me astounded. Do you know why?"

"No, _Rabban_."

"Because the mysteries that the Greeks unraveled, the ingenious solutions they found, and the sagacity with which they explained the phenomena of nature, could only have occurred with the help of an enlightened godhead. At the time I questioned myself. How could such people, estranged from the true faith and the belief in our Lord, be so wise? And the evidence was there, all around me, in those rolls, those parchments and papyri, already yellowed with age and use."

"And you came to a conclusion?"

"Yes and no. And such an answer could only be dubious."

"I don't understand" I had to confess.

"Ahasver, the Lord has confirmed the Judaeans, countless times, as the chosen people, chosen to maintain the faith alive, to keep His word and His commandments. This is our covenant with the Lord."

He continued. "But no one doubts that every tribe and nation is also the result of the Lord's creation, placed in this world to fulfill a role defined by our Maker. By His will, some excel in warfare, like the Romans, others in exploration, like the Phoenicians, others in the arts and architecture, such as the Egyptians and the Greeks, and so on."

"So, _Rabban_ , you have reached a conclusion. You are saying that whether these people worship the Lord or not, they achieved what they did because such was our Lord's desire."

"I came to a possible interpretation, that is all."

"What you are saying is that everyone, believers and pagans, are guided by the Lord?"

"Yes, Ahasver. Once we recognize that He is omniscient and the one and only true Lord, how can then we negate that everything is done by Him and through Him?"

"But, _Rabban_ , surely there is something called freedom of choice. The Lord gave us that too."

"That is why there are other religions, Ahasver. The divine is an inborn trait of the human soul. That is also why I admire the Greeks and their search for the rational, for their attempts in finding reason in divine purposes and in humanizing their gods."

"Are you talking about oracles?"

"Philosophy. I believe that their religion will not resist for much longer to philosophy and reason. Soon enough their Olympic paganism will be as buried as the animal gods of pharaonic Egypt."

"And then?"

"They will adopt another creed. Probably one with a single deity. It could be our Lord or something like the Zoroastrianism of the Persians, for example."

"Is that why the Messianics are so eager with their conversions?"

"I think so, Ahasver. I don't know if it is premeditated or instinctive, but if they are successful they could one day replace the paganism of the Greeks and the Romans."

"A tragedy, _Rabban_!"

"Not so much..."

"No?" I exclaimed surprised with his serenity.

"Although we will never accept their prophet as our messiah, and time will prove us right, at least there will be more followers of our own Lord. It's better that, than they following Ahura Mazda or some other Arian godhead."

"It is a pessimistic vision, _Rabban_. Is there nothing we can do?"

"But what ? We have already done with their messiah. And if our more radical elements have their way, we might even sentence a few more of them."

"I meant with this issue of conversions. Why don't our own priests also convert more people to our faith?"

"Very few even try it. We are too inflexible and reluctant to allow Gentiles to become part of our faith. It is not only the Lord who is a jealous god, but the _Kohanim_ too. Many don't even accept the translation of the Torah, much less to go on missions of conversion."

"I think I understand, _Rabban_ , but my main worry now is Ruth."

"The issue with Ruth could become a general problem for us all. Your family is not the first, nor will be the last where there will be discord because of religion. I think it is a growing issue in our society."

But that did not bring me any consolation.

"But what should I do, _Rabban_? Allow Ruth to take this path into heresy?"

"The problem, as I see it, Ahasver, is that Ruth's faith at this moment is weak, partially explainable because of your recent loss. It is all too human to question divine purpose when it personally affects us so profoundly and intimately. The why is the most human question there is, and the answers are most often incomprehensible to us, and at such times only blind faith can offer any comfort."

"But, _Rabban_ , what do you recommend I do now?"

"Ahasver, I know you. What can you do? Forbid her from following her own way? How can one prohibit another person from thinking what they really want to think?"

"But surely there must be something to be done."

"I advise you not to do much now. The two of you go to Temple, speak with some of the more reasonable _Kohanim_ , go and listen to the scriptures, don't distance yourself from her, but support her, be understanding. And above all, trust the Lord."

Nothing too different from what I had planned. And we went on, with other subjects.

" _Rabban_ , I've been hearing about this other messiah."

"Yes, the Sanhedrin has deliberated, and once more we had to vehemently condemn this new heresy. Only credulous and ignorant fools could ever believe that this opportunist, an ascetic with no past, could ever command the waters of the Jordan. We have warned the Romans, and I believe they will intervene if the situation gets out of hand."

"A story that keeps repeating itself."

"As long as there are ignorant people, there will always be someone to exploit their credulity."

"You mean that misplaced faith helps create them?"

"Always, Ahasver, always. As long as men need to be saved from themselves, there will always be this sort of messiah."

"Except the Nazarenes, those have had their messiah."

"Even them don't seem too satisfied, and now claim his imminent return."

Time... thou shall not want for time... thou will have all the time in the world until my return...

"And you, Ahasver? Will you be staying in Jerusalem now?"

"Not for too long, _Rabban_ , I have grown fond of the seaside. I like Caesarea."

"I understand. By the way, I don't know how you do it, but you don't seem to grow any older. Not fatter, not thinner. How I envy you, my friend. I am almost bald, my beard grows erratically, my eyesight deteriorates daily, and even my hand starts trembling when I write for long periods of time. But you..."

"It must be because of my workload, _Rabban_. Don't they say that work brings health?" I smiled embarrassed with his remarks.

"Yes, some say it indeed. I suppose that is why some of my dearest friends, true altruists that they are, don't cease to give me work" he said it grinning too.

By the time we had finished, night was falling and I rushed home to Ruth.

But that evening I never saw her. She was resting in her room, recovering from the journey, and according to one of the servant girls, she had hardly eaten anything. I was eager to speak to her about my conversation with Gamaliel, but it would have to wait.

Also, Isaac arrived, knowing that I was in town, and we sat in the terrace and caught up with our conversations, as I had not seen him since Yeshua's burial.

Recalling Gamaliel's remarks, I observed my brother attentively. Isaac was looking older, as expected really, his beard grayer, a face more deeply wrinkled and gaunt.

"Isaac tell me something. How do you find me? I mean in physical terms?" I asked interrupting him, "Do I look much older to you?"

"What? What do you mean?" he asked puzzled.

"Well, I don't really know. But I was talking to Gamaliel earlier on, and he mentioned that I was looking well, I mean, my aspect... I didn't seem to have aged since we had last met."

And looking attentively at me, eyes half-shut as one does when we want to focus on minutiae.

"Yes, I see what he means. You are looking good, Ahasver, indeed. How old are you now ? Forty something...?"

"Almost forty three."

"Well, you don't look it. You are keeping yourself fit, certainly the result of an easy life" he added.

"You think so ? Well, I have been working hard, a lot to worry about these days. And yes, Isaac, I feel that I have aged a lot these last few months. Yeshua was a shock to us."

"I can't imagine it and anyone who looks at you even less. Time has been generous to you, brother," while sipping a sweet wine from Galilee, "but you know, it is not proper for you to continue to dwell on his death. This black clothing you insist on wearing. The scriptures are very clear on this, and mourning in excess can be disrespectful to the Lord."

That is all I really needed at that moment, a reprimand from my own brother.

"Pray and fervently implore the Lord for you never to experience such a loss" I answered bitterly.

That shut him up and drove him again to the wine cup. And amidst that awkward silence, I recalled the words.

Time... thou shall not want for time...

Year 46

Regrettably, my talks with Ruth lead nowhere. I did not demand anything tangible from her, and she promised nothing, and I could feel us growing more distant each passing day. Our visits to the Temple were long walks of silence, interrupted by curt answers to remarks I made on everyday issues. More than disbelief, gloom had settled on that house, as dark as the black dresses that she wore since the days of our misfortune. Friends came to visit and quickly departed. They were civilly received with all due courtesies, but also constrained with her short answers and long silences. That mutism enveloped me constantly, although I tried to ignore it by keeping busy with repetitive tasks and the usual outings, but it was that same silence who welcomed me back at the end of those afternoons.

I tried tenderness, but there was no reciprocity, I tried to talk, but I went unanswered, I tried and I tried, but nothing got through that wall of indifference. Even when I did receive some return, it was just colorless sounds deprived of any emotion and little reasoning.

Almost in despair and as glum as her, we searched for advice from the more tolerant and wiser priests and councilors, some highly recommended by Gamaliel, with whom I continued to share my anguish. But it was of no avail. Ruth would fix her answers on banalities and never really participated wholeheartedly in those sessions. And they would invariably recommend the very same remedies of prayer and penitence, concluding that the Lord would certainly intervene and reinforce her faith in time.

Long stretched those days, hard days spent in the company of Chronos, distracted and unyielding as ever. It was then and there that I personified time with the old pagan god, and by naming it, I gave him presence. It was not heresy. I certainly did not find anything divine in him, just a companion, silent and stable, and more present than Ruth.

I gradually realized that there was not much else to be done, and I decided to return home to Caesarea, as Ruth was also keen to go home. Once more I started with the usual preparations for our trip back.

" _Rabban_ , I am leaving for Caesarea" I announced when I went to say my goodbyes to Gamaliel.

"I understand, Ahasver, and I am sorry to see you go so soon. I will miss our talks"

"Well, I think it is time to return. Ruth also wants it. She is increasingly morose and closed in herself. I am worried about her. She hardly talks these days and doesn't seem to get much sleep either."

As perceptive as ever, Gamaliel came out with the crucial question.

"Ahasver, and what if she found peace and solace in the Messianic creed? Would you accept it?"

It was not a question that had not already occurred to me, but I had not yet forced myself to dwell on it.

"I really don't know how to answer that at this point. I've thought about it, yes indeed. But I have always tried not to consider it, even when I do see her so remote, so forlorn..."

Gamaliel interrupted me.

"My friend, place your trust in the Lord. What has to be will come to be."

"But, _Rabban_ , are you saying that I should do nothing, even it means that she will be condemning herself to eternal damnation?"

"No, Ahasver, all I am saying is that Ruth is already lost to us. We are too late."

" _Rabban_ ..."

"Ahasver, just the other day we spoke about our destiny as a nation. Since the time of Moses we know for certain to be the chosen people of the Lord. Chosen to keep the faith and the truth until the very last days. How many times have we demonstrated this devotion and suffered to sustain it ? We are few when compared to the world out there, and for our faith to be unshakeable, we have to be strong and steadfast in its defense, and so some call us fanatics, belligerent, in constant turmoil with others and even amongst ourselves."

Without pausing, he went on. "On the other hand, we now see this sect of heretics that claim to be followers of our Lord, preaching compassion to men who do not know or even follow the divine commandments, announcing to their followers that they are saved because their messiah gave his life for all sinners."

" _Rabban_ ..."

"Ahasver, let us be honest with one another. If you were not a true believer, totally convinced of the righteousness of our faith, would you not choose such a path as the Messianics now offer ? Isn't it easier to believe that our misdeeds will be forgiven when we leave this world, and that death does not lead anymore to _sheol_ but to some heavenly bliss?"

"I do believe that's the opinion of Ruth too."

"Yes, indeed, just as you told me before, and I'm saying to you is that Ruth's faith is too weak to resist such temptation. That is why she is already lost to us. Not just her, but many others who are tempted with such delusions."

I shook my head in negation, I could not resign myself to such an inevitable course.

" _Rabban_ , I can and I will fight it."

"My dearest friend, I see every day the weaknesses of the human spirit, I see it because they are in me too. As friends, believe me when I say that all I want is for you to be aware of them, so that you may not fall into the same temptations. Remember that it is natural to have doubts and questions, and when you find yourself at a crossroad, search for the true path in the scriptures for you will find it written there."

It was quite a farewell speech! Once more I was touched by his eloquence and clear thinking. A sagacious mind, but also very human with all the human doubts and questions that we all carry with us. I could feel some angst with the inevitability of future clashes with the Nazarenes. If half of his colleagues in the Council had a similar opinion, we would once again see the return of the purges and persecutions.

How relieved I felt, when once again I stared at that vast ocean limiting the greenery of the plain of Sharon and the whitewashed glow of my city of Caesarea. How good it was to be back, gulping that humid and salty air, that breeze of relief. How much prettier it now seemed my own house, the geometric precision of the decorative friezes over the intricate inlaid woodwork of the front door, details that had always been there, but at that moment it almost seemed like a revelation to my flustered gaze.

I had some correspondence waiting for me, including a letter from Joseph who was still in Antioch, informing me of the latest news, with questions about the recent unrest near Jericho and enquiring about the business and about Ruth.

In time, life returned to some normalcy and I anxiously watched Ruth's behavior and moods, looking for signs of some improvement. Her silences had diminished somewhat during the latter stages of our journey, and back home she started to see some of her usual friends, but did not abandon her mourning habits nor stopped with her muted prayers and lamentations when alone in her room.

We returned to the Temple and the normal rites of two dedicated believers. I went back to the _agora_ in the company of Alexander. I saw the Nazarenes again, once more tolerated by the Romans and the other Gentiles in the city, gathered in their usual groupings and openly preaching. I visited the tomb of Yeshua, alone in my grief, and I recalled once more the words of Gamaliel, longing for some comfort in his strong convictions.

I continued to question myself about the future, in muted monologues, and of the paths that the future would bring. I questioned priests in regard to some obscure details of the scriptures, searching for solutions to imagined problems. I spoke of trivia to friends, but not really interested in their answers or opinions. I retold burlesque incidents to Ruth, who heard them with guarded smiles and fleeting gazes. Overall, I was at that crossroad that Gamaliel had mentioned, living in the apparent normality of an uneasy truce.

"Ruth, are you feeling better, more resigned? We have hardly spoken lately..." I asked at dinner, trying to hide my anxiety so that she would not grasp how important her response was to me at that moment.

"Ahasver, I have had some help from your friend" she replied with downcast eyes.

"Who?" I asked, baffled with her answer.

"Time, that Greek god you mentioned the other day."

"Oh, you mean Chronos."

"Yes, that one... your friend."

The irony was obvious.

"Hardly a friend... why do you say that?" I asked uneasily.

"Because you are relying on him to heal our wounds and bring on forgetfulness."

"Hasn't it helped? Hasn't it softened our loss, our grief?"

"No, Ahasver, not at all. I still keep counting the days, and the hours since Yeshua is in _sheol_ , and every second that goes by only adds to his suffering in that land of darkness."

"Ruth, we are all destined to that same fate. It is written, it is the word of the Lord."

"Ahasver, your son was always a good child. How can you honestly believe that his spirit deserves to share the same fate as the basest of thugs? I don't! The Lord would never allow it. Never!"

"Now you doubt the scriptures? How can you have faith in the Lord and not in His words? I will not tolerate apostates in my house!" I replied indignantly and much too loud.

"Are you... are you going to expel me?" she stuttered.

I did not answer, limiting my response to cast her an accusatory glance and I stood up.

"Ahasver..."

"I will not speak further on this. One day you will thank me. It is not my Ruth who is here now, grief and sorrow are speaking for you."

But was I right? Was my Ruth someone else, someone who had left me in an afternoon just like any other, before a boy's casket? After all, how many were interred in that dark tomb?

Our wound festered again and apathy took over the house once more. A place for shadows, where light seemed so vague and almost imperceptible. And, in the company of my old friend Chronos, my nights stretched into pale dawns of poignant odors brought on by the low tides. And I would torment myself in lethargic inactivity, disinterested in anything except a solution, an answer, and despite Gamaliel's dictates, I began to doubt that all our solutions could be simply found in the sacred writings.

Once more I ran to the comfort of a long letter to Joseph, minutely describing my state of mind. I realized that I had no one else I could trust with these bitter thoughts that were slowly eating away my will. In moments such as these, we never have enough friends, and those in whom we most trust are the very same who we do not want to distress with our own problems. In long sentences I unloaded unto those pages not only my anguish, but also the events, the talks I had had with Gamaliel, the disbelief of Ruth, and my doubts and questions, a very long list.

Although embittered with the situation at home, I was determined in bringing some degree of order into my daily routines, taking refuge in the affairs of the emporium, going to temple regularly, paying more frequent visits to friends, watching the races and the games, now held more regularly under the patronage of the Romans, and even actively participating in discussions at the _agora_.

The nights I spent reading under the light of flickering lamps, some furtive nocturnal visits to a nearby house, and enthusiastically savoring wines and liquors bought from merchants of the region and afar. The different aromas and bouquets were enjoyed by the senses, and as a bonus I would even get some restful slumber. So I learned of Dionysus, a fierce rival to my Chronos.

But my understanding of the Greek pantheon still included another god, or to be more precise, a goddess, Aphrodite, personified for my delight in the beautiful Demetria — in my defense for this stage of licentiousness, I do blame most emphatically my wife, just as most men have done since the beginning of time. I will not claim that she was the one who took me to Demetria, that was my friend Adad, but her stubbornness and disregard for her marital duties were certainly major contributors to these lustful episodes.

Demetria was beautiful and sensual, a true courtesan, not to be confused with those dissolute that walked the insalubrious areas of the port, waiting for the arrival of some ship. She was a refined woman, exotic even, who attracted her admirers by her physical prowess and retained them through her intellect. An excellent conversationalist, always in the know of the more brazen events in town, spiced by very flowery and illustrative descriptions. She was a creature of the shadows, almost unknown, rarely spoken of and never seen in daylight. It was exactly what I needed at the time, irrefutable pleasures and lusty satisfactions.

With her I learned new arts and stood in awe with the splendor of the feminine body, until then only glimpsed in silhouettes of Ruth against the jalousies of nights of full moon. In her company, my desire took shape and sound. With her, I learned to savor the moments and the movements, and also the pleasures of voluptuousness. And to her I would return regularly and remorseful.

But even with all these efforts to keep mind and body occupied, there were always moments of idle solitude, unaided by those personal gods of mine.

Years 47 - 48

Long months went by without any news from Joseph, or at least so it seemed to me. But eventually something did arrive, brought by an unknown Nazarene. A bulky package, too big to be just a plain letter, and on opening it, I saw that it was some sort of a manuscript with pages sewed together and written in _koine_. I later learned that it was called a codex, a recent invention of the ever creative Greeks.

In the accompanying letter, Joseph began with the usual compliments and personal news and rapidly went on to my own issues. He stated that he understood my dilemma, but I should also show some sympathy with the issues that tormented Ruth. His arguments were based on some of our scriptural sayings, and he offered some of his own, clearly drawn from Nazarene sources. He claimed that even if I did not believe in Yeshua as the true messiah, I should at least try to accept his messages of tolerance and understanding. And such messages could be found in the book that he was enclosing, a compilation of the deeds of the prophet as witnessed by his closest followers.

He ended his letter with words of encouragement, comfort and even some philosophical considerations, reminding me of the brevity of life in this world and the importance of preparing ourselves for eternal life in the company of the Lord. Like Ruth, Joseph did not believe in the _sheol_.

Contrary to my expectation, Joseph did not offer any practical advice. He did not indicate any solution or even a compromise, except to read a book with the sayings of a dead preacher, through which I would find answers and comfort. I was disappointed, realizing that I could not count on him for any relevant spiritual guidance.

As to the book, I did not know what to do. If, on the one hand, I had some dim hope of finding something relevant to comfort Ruth, on the other, I was not too keen in reading heretical sayings. But in the end, plain curiosity won the day.

The book in itself, was nothing more than a fable, recounting the life of preaching of Yeshua. It was not even a biographical work. There were no mentions of his birth, childhood, education, nothing that could tell us more about the man. The story began when Yeshua was acclaimed by the Lord during some baptism performed by an ascetic named John, an unknown figure to me. Apparently, his divine acclamation was heard by a very large crowd. This was as new to me, as heretical to any one of my faith.

From this momentous event, the story went on to describe the many miracles, the cures and the stories told by the prophet to any who wanted to hear him, including very peculiar interpretations of our own scriptures that he made known to some of our priests and sages. And it all ended with his crucifixion and the inevitable resurrection and ascension to his own Nazarene heaven.

If this was one of the pillars of that doctrine, or their preaching manual, it did not seem that harmful to me. In truth, there were few heretical sayings and I could agree with Joseph that some of the teachings were tolerant and ethical. For this preacher, all men were sinners and all could be saved, the thieves, the most heinous of criminals or the sinful, all forgiven by simply accepting and regretting their deeds on their death beds. Naturally, all the dead would resurrect at the end of days and be judged for their faith. And the spirit of those who repented would again exist in perpetual jubilation and in the company of the Lord and of his son Yeshua. The _sheol_ would only occur for the renegades, the worst of men, a place of infinite torments similar to the infernos of the Greeks.

Such was the faith of Ruth, and the reason was obvious.

It was also strange and curious to me, reading in those lines about some of the events that I had somehow witnessed. The procession of their messiah to the cross, entering that empty tomb of his in the company of Joseph, and in truth, those women had been there on that day.

The book was not long and I actually read it a couple of times, applying logic and reasoning to find inconsistencies and flaws. Unfortunately, only many years later I came to understand how such methods were fallible when one wants to extract reason from religious dogmas. But I even took some notes of events that seemed completely nonsensical or exaggerations. If I did a good job I might even convince Ruth to give up her obsessive thoughts on the whole thing. How I wanted my Ruth back !

Since we now only met during meals, it was at such a moment that I mentioned it to her.

"Ruth, I received a letter from Joseph" I began.

Without raising her eyes from the table, she commented, trying to show some interest. "Is he well?"

"Yes, he sends his regards and also a manuscript," and I went on, "a manuscript about the prophet Yeshua."

I could now see the glint of some curiosity awakening in her.

"He sent it to you? Why?"

"I wrote to him about your convictions."

Now furtively glancing at me, she asked.

"Why did you do that? You know he is a Messianic, we all know. What did you expect?" and suddenly she stared at me, "A manuscript? About the Messiah?"

Well, now she had it. "Yes, a book about his teachings."

"Joseph wrote it himself?"

"No, he says that they are accounts of witnesses and followers. Maybe the same that Mordechai once wrote down."

"From Antioch! They are speaking of Him in Antioch... did you read it?"

"Yes."

That brief questioning ended there. I had expected some more questions, some more interest from her. So I continued.

"You don't want to know what are my thoughts on it?"

"I don't know, I don't know if I want to know. Your opinion was always very clear, even when your actions seemed contrary."

"Ruth, we have spoken about that."

"Yes, I know. I apologize."

"Ruth, what can I do? It's too difficult to keep this going for much longer. Your apathy for everything, your silence and your accusatory looks..."

"I only want the best for us, and when I say us, I include our son. I want to be with him in spirit, to see him together with the Messiah," and she went on questioning, "doesn't this book speak of salvation? Doesn't it say that whoever converts to the truth of Yeshua will live forever?"

"Something like that. Right along with miracles of lepers being cured, the dead brought to life, the wine jar and the bread loaf that fed the hunger of hundreds of people..."

"Ahasver, don't! Don't mock it. Can I see the manuscript?"

"You can, but you won't understand it. It is written in Greek."

"I don't understand. How can it be an account of His teachings if it is in Greek?"

"It's probably a translation of another book. There isn't much point in having an Aramaic version in Antioch, is there?"

"Yes, it makes sense. But you could translate it for me, if you wanted to..."

"I don't know..." I hesitated while I thought about it. Could that book bring her some comfort or would it feed even more her belief in the Nazarene?"

"I see. I think I understand..." in a tone that clearly contradicted what she was saying.

If I translated it for her, I could mitigate some of those passages, although she already knew most of what they claimed, even the more absurd tales.

"No, I'll do it. I'll read it to you" besides, I would make sure that I would give a very slow reading, and we would do it in the terrace as we did so many times in happier days. All I really wanted was to get my Ruth back!

As I later wrote to Gamaliel, that text was not long or difficult to read, and it was filled with moral lessons and numerous descriptions of their miracles. Strangely, he showed some interest in also reading it, if I had the opportunity of sending it to Jerusalem or taking it with me during one of my trips.

Shameless, for I believed in the justness of my motive, I can say that I took a few weeks to finish reading it for Ruth, and I admit that I did not distort too extensively those stories. I did exaggerate some parts, using them to ridicule some of the descriptions, and I tried to minimize the fervor of other deeds and words. I recalled once more to Ruth my brief encounter with the preacher, not disclosing the words he had said to me, and although she had already heard the story before, I could see that she was enthralled with that brief encounter. I also spoke of that morning journey with Joseph to the burial grounds and our findings.

Finally, late one night, we finished. And as fate capriciously does, in the next morning Joseph knocked on our door, just arrived from Antioch in the company of a retinue of servants, animals and other travelers, among whom I recognized a familiar face, Saul.

THE HUSBAND

Years 47 - 48

With great joy and affection I welcomed them all — even Saul — and the embraces I exchanged with my great friend and mentor were long, tender and emotional. Ruth too, was delighted to see them, and the smiles I saw on her face made my day. How I had missed that exuberance that was so natural to her and since that unfortunate day I had never seen again.

Joseph, however, after those brief and emotional moments, stared at me with awe.

"Ahasver! Ahasver! How you look, Ahasver!"

I didn't understand him, and I followed the gaze that studied me attentively.

"What is it, Joseph?"

"Ahasver, you look the same. You look as you did when we parted in Antioch," and still flabbergasted he went on, "I thought... well, after all this time and all that has happened, I would find you different, definitely different, older I would imagine."

"I don't understand you..."

"Ahasver, just look at you! Not a wrinkle, not a hair that has gone gray. There's not a mark on your face, and you look as fit as ever."

Recently I had heard almost the same, but was it my fault that I had a healthy constitution?

"It might not look it, my friend, but I've grown older, not sure of wiser, but still..."

Ruth seemed to agree with him.

"It's true, reverend Joseph, Ahasver is as youthful as ever, at least on the outside" she said grinning.

Saul, who in the meantime had also entered the _atrium_ , also commented something, thanking me for receiving him in my house, to which I answered with some trivial phrase of welcome. I was not entirely pleased with the presence of the Nazarenes there, but in consideration for Joseph, I could not really refuse shelter to any friend of his. Two other companions had also come in, named Barnabas and Silas, who I greeted, and the others, the servants, remained outside looking after the litters and the luggage. Immediately I ordered for the gates to the courtyard to be opened so that all could come in to unload the animals, and take them into the stables. Likewise, Ruth took on herself to prepare the rooms and baths for everyone.

Joseph, amid all this, retired to a room with his valet, eager to bathe and rest after his long journey, while his companions went into town.

As agreed, we all met later in the evening for a meal, where amidst the various dishes and idle talk, I showed off my knowledge of the local wines, encouraging everyone to try them all, while Joseph recounted some of incidents of the trip. But tiredness soon settled in, and everyone took to their quarters, and even Ruth didn't stay for much longer in the terrace. A calm breeze, the quietness of a city in repose, and the company of Dionysus eventually carried me into a deep slumber. When I awoke, disquieted by the gadflies of the early morning, I could see the faint translucence of dawn in the east, the herald of a new day.

In that same morning, Joseph suggested that we meet right after breakfast. Thinking that it had to do with business, I prepared some material, and I began to show him the accounts and summaries of purchases and stocks, the usual stuff that I used to send him by mail. But this time, it did not interest him.

"Ahasver, that is all very well. Listen, I want to sell it all, I want to close my businesses as I have just done in Antioch. The time has come to get out of this life of deals and trades and whatever. I want to do other things, and I just hope that I still have a few years left, in good health and spirits, to dedicate myself to new missions without distractions. Basically, that is the purpose of my coming to Judaea now.

I cannot say that I was too surprised to hear it. For some time, I had become aware of his rare comments when I sent him my reports. Most of the time, he did not even mention them in his writings. Something that had puzzled me for a while, not knowing whether he approved or not some of the decisions that I had taken.

"I want you to buy from me what is of interest to you. The rest we'll sell it. There are always buyers for good businesses."

"Joseph, naturally I'm interested, but I don't have enough coin..."

"I know that," he quickly answered, "and if you hadn't said so, I would be worried."

We both smiled with the innuendo and we did reach an understanding. I would purchase the trading posts and the other properties in Caesarea, Jerusalem, Jaffa and Tiberias. The others, in Gaza, Hebron, Tyre, Damascus and a smaller one in Samaria, I was to sell as soon as possible.

"What are your plans? Will you return to Jerusalem or stay in Antioch?"

"Ahasver, I could never return to live in Jerusalem. It is too stifling for me now. I want to go out into the world, do some traveling while I still have the strength and energy for it. And, by the way, did you read that codex I sent you?"

"Yes, I did. A few times actually. I also read it to Ruth. She can't read _koine_."

"You're right. I had forgotten that."

I very much doubted it. Joseph was too shrewd to have forgotten it. He wanted me to read it to her, that way he would make sure that I would read it too."

"And how did you like it?"

"Joseph, it is just a biographical story, right? Stories about the prophet, some of his teachings, but honestly, I think there are too many miracles. It discredits it on the whole. I believe that it will be seen as a fable, a book of legends."

"But it is the truth, Ahasver. We couldn't omit the wondrous events that so many had witnessed."

"Joseph, I think that many of those who will read it will also reject it right at the beginning, and won't even finished it. And it is a pity. I do admit that there are some wonderful sayings in there. You know, I wrote to Gamaliel and told him about the book. He is interested in reading it too. Why don't you go to Jerusalem and visit him?"

"I do want to go to Jerusalem, Ahasver. Soon we will have the festival of unleavened bread and I want to go to the Temple. It has been too long since I made a sacrifice to the Lord."

"You know that the house is available at any time and for as long as you want it."

"We should make preparations. I would like for us all to go."

"Saul and the other brothers are also going?"

"Yes. I was the one who joined Saul on this trip, as he had to come to Jerusalem to meet with our brothers."

After the death of Agrippa, and once more under Roman rule, the persecutions of the Nazarenes in Caesarea had almost ceased, but not in Jerusalem.

"Joseph, it can be dangerous in Jerusalem. The Zealots are once again on the war path against the Romans and their collaborators, and I've heard that they are after the Messianics too."

"Ahasver, I don't think I told you this before, but Saul was once a Zealot, a follower of that sect founded by Yehuda of Gamala.

"That Yehuda who fought the Romans at Sepphoris?"

"Yes."

"Another claimant for messiahship, I heard."

"You were too young then."

"Yes, I don't remember it, but father often mentioned it. So Saul was a real Zealot then?"

"Yes, it was a miracle his conversion," and ironically asked, "but you don't believe in miracles, do you?"

"Well, if one follows such logic, then there must be many who also believe that your conversion was a miracle too. After all, if it hadn't been for your loyalty and support, who knows what may have happened to the brotherhood?"

Staring at me with complacency, he answered.

"I have no doubt that it was, Ahasver. And every day I thank the Lord for such a blessing."

We had never spoken at length about the reasons for Joseph's conversion, and now, concerned as I was with Ruth's situation I wanted to know more of what had actually happened to him.

"Joseph, if I may..."

"Yes?"

"How did it really happen? What drove you into this faith?"

"It just happened, Ahasver. It was not something sudden, unlike Saul who had a vision. My conversion was gradual. It started when I learned about His messages and teachings. I actually think it came about when I saw Him on the cross. His willingness and His resignation to give it all up for our sake. And then, when we both went to the tomb that morning and found it empty. Yes, at that moment I knew for sure."

"But how does one know? How can we feel that certainty?"

"Physically I don't think I felt anything at all. I just knew. My spirit had changed. I felt the Lord's presence in me."

"The Lord?"

"No... I don't think it was the almighty Lord of Moses, but a representation of the Lord. I can't really describe it... it was like the burning bush, the cloud and the thunder, a whole, a manifestation of His power..."

"Some sort of a vision then?"

"Not in that sense. Not a vision for the eyes to behold, something that happens to your spirit. And the beauty of it is that I still feel it today and every day."

Solid feelings and strong words, how not to question them? Was this the same spiritual drive that was also tormenting Ruth? Was I right in forbidding something that was impossible to limit and contain?

"Joseph, you mentioned that a vision had appeared to Saul?"

"Yes, he was blessed with an apparition of the Messiah which blinded him. After that he stopped persecuting our brothers, gave up his evil ways and dedicated his life to the Messiah."

Very strange. I had always considered Saul a rational man, and not one given to visions. I went on.

"All the other disciples also had some visions? Is that what drove them to Yeshua?"

"No, Ahasver, not visions but faith, indomitable faith. Yeshua's messages were much stronger than the faith that had sustained them before."

"Yes, that's what I see in Ruth. Her true faith is too weak these days."

"Why don't you let Saul speak with her? He has converted a lot of people, but I can also tell you that he has refused many, when he sees that what they seek is not what our faith has to offer."

"Women, too?"

"Many, Ahasver. Our faith is particularly strong among women."

"Let me think about "it nothing new to me. That's all I had been doing for the last few months.

On our trip to Jerusalem we passed through the small town of Emmaus, now a holy place according to Saul. Yeshua was seen there after his resurrection, and there were a few believers kneeling in prayer around some stones that marked the spot of the apparition. Some of the brothers wanted to stop for praying too, and after a small delay as we continued with our journey as Saul came up to me.

"Brother Ahasver, Joseph told me about your conversation... about the conversion?"

"Your conversion?"

"Also," he replied smiling, "but I was actually referring to Ruth."

"Saul, that is something that I don't really want to discuss right now."

"I understand, but I believe I can help."

"Help me or her?" I questioned him with some bitterness.

"Help you!" he emphatically answered.

"Help me with a decision?"

"Help your conscience when you come to accept it."

"According to you then, a decision has already been made" I answered in an ironical tone.

"I do believe so. I was told that you both shared the book, the epistle of the life and of the teachings of the Messiah."

"Yes, we did. Once more, Saul, I must tell you that it confirmed my conviction of the heretical nature of your creed."

"Because?"

"Well, your messiah as the son of the Lord?"

"Ahasver, you didn't read correctly. It is the Lord who acclaims Yeshua as His son, not men and not Yeshua either. It's all there, right in those first pages, and witnessed by many."

"Yes, one of your miracles."

"You don't believe in miracles?" he angrily asked, "Or you doubt the veracity of the account of some many?"

"Saul, I have never seen a miracle, how can I believe in something that I have never seen?"

"You have never seen the Lord, but you do believe in Him."

"Yes, I do. I've never seen Him nor am I worthy of ever seeing Him, but the scriptures are all that I need for believing in Him. We are not talking of a book recently written by scribes relating events witnessed by credulous bystanders, but a holy book, proven by its longevity and accepted as the word of our Lord by the most exalted and wise of our sages. Personally written down by our greatest prophet as dictated to him by the Lord."

"Ahasver, I have no doubts regarding the holy books, but tell me, if you saw a miracle would you then believe in them?"

"It all depends on what you mean by a miracle. You mean a cure?"

"Maybe something more personal."

"Something that will happen to me? Or to Ruth?"

"I believe that it has already happened, but you haven't yet seen it" and he did not wait for a reply, drawing away due to a narrowing of the path that we had to go through at that point.

Now closer to Jerusalem we came upon long queues of pilgrims who were also going into the city for the festival, some on foot and others riding their asses and horses, and also some who were being carried in sedan chairs and litters, all following the trail of true faith.

On our arrival in the city, it was decided that we would all stay in the house, the same that had belonged to Joseph. Almost immediately I went to see Isaac to decide on our forthcoming arrangements for the week.

Every year, since the time of father Simon, it was our custom to accommodate relatives that came into the city for the festivals, but now with Joseph and the other Nazarenes, I had decided it would be too risky to do it that year.

"Well, Ahasver, it is your house," he commented sourly, "but expect some to criticize and comment on it. It is not good... you are in Caesarea, and I'll be the one who has to hear it."

"Isaac, first," I answered sharply, "it is as you say, the house is mine, and there is your excuse, but let me tell you right now that you are not been charitable at all with Joseph. It seems to me that you have forgotten how much he has done for us all."

"But this Joseph is not the same Joseph we once knew..."

"What're you saying?" I interrupted abruptly, "He is and will always be our most dear friend."

"No, Ahasver, he is an apostate..., and he brings with him other heretics. Do you have any idea of what people are saying about this sect?"

"Isaac, I thought you wiser! Don't you know that in this town there's always something to be said about everyone? The Zealots criticize the Pharisees, and these the Saducees, and none of them tolerate the Essenes, expelled from the city as impure."

"There are divisions in our faith, I will not deny it."

I did not want nor was I in a mood for religious discussions with my brother. I had learned that when it came to talk about faith, rational arguments weighed almost nothing, and Isaac was obviously the wrong kind of believer to be dissuaded by reason.

"Well then, I leave it to you, to do as you wish. I just wanted you to know that the house is unavailable this year, but I would like us, as a family, to be together for the rituals, as we have always done."

He finally gave in, but, not before making it known that he would not tolerate any Nazarenes for the _seder_ , and by the tone of his voice he obviously meant Joseph too.

If Isaac was my real brother, a companion since childhood, Joseph was almost a father, and it was sad having to choose between one and the other. But Joseph, after I gathered sufficient courage to break the news to him, was as understanding as Ruth had predicted, accepting well the situation.

"Let us not forget, Ahasver, the _pesach_ is above all else a time of remembrance, to be celebrated in family. Since the time of Moses, it has been our custom to share the rituals and the _seder_ with one's own. And don't you concern yourself with me. After all, I now have many more brothers than you, a truly large family."

In those few days, almost all spent in the company of Joseph, we took time to revisit the city, where I showed him some of the more recently completed buildings, and also visited the Temple almost daily. I also took him to see and meet with some of his older friends, including Gamaliel, who received him enthusiastically. I found it odd that their long talk was mostly about worldly matters and neither talked at length about religion and beliefs. Later, when I asked the _Rabban_ why he had not tried to reason with Joseph about his erroneous faith, he replied that it would have been a waste of time and a strain on their friendship. It was too clear to him that Joseph was way beyond any hope of returning to our true faith.

On the day before the _seder_ , during one of our visits to the Temple, we spotted Saul and his companion Silas, seated by the stairs under the colonnade, in lively discussion. Joseph did not want to interrupt them, but they saw us and hurried over.

"Brother Joseph!" a visibly agitated Saul waved as he stood and came up to us dragging Silas along.

As they came nearer I could see that Saul was not only nervous but was also stammering. Certainly something very significant had happened for him to be in such a state.

"We did it, brother Joseph! We have just arrived here. I wanted to thank the Lord immediately."

Whatever it was, Joseph was aware of it, as he smiled and silently nodded in satisfaction, and the three embraced, a very unusual behavior in that particular space. Soon others started to comment and looking sharply at them. Suddenly aware of the stares, they separated, and both Saul and Silas came to greet me and went off towards the inner courts to pray.

"Joseph, what is it?" I asked, too curious to wait for any voluntary clarification.

"Ahasver, a true miracle!"

That surprised me, but then I immediately remembered how voracious the Nazarenes were for miracles and such like. As common in their ideology as rare in all others.

"A true miracle, you say ?"

"Yes, Ahasver."

"Someone was cured? Or is it another resurrection?" I asked mockingly.

"The world!" saying it with conviction, "Now we can save the whole world."

I certainly didn't get it. And as he looked at me, he could see how confused I was with his answer.

"Ahasver, let us sit there. I feel a bit weak" pointing to a stone bench close to one of the Temple's entrances.

I waited for him to explain more, but he really seemed short of breath and all too reluctant to proceed.

"Ahasver, we better talk later, this is not the right place, it is hot, and I think I should lie down for a bit. These walks of ours are taxing my resistance."

"Of course, Joseph, whenever you want, and we should return home. Ruth is very particular about meal times and I do believe she has a surprise for us today."

We rented a litter to take us up to the house, as Joseph was in no condition to climb all the way.

Later in the afternoon, Saul, Silas and Barnabas came by the house, and they all retired to Joseph's quarters until dusk. When I saw them again they were in the courtyard, and Joseph called me over to join them.

"Ahasver, we are leaving now, and we'll be back after the _Shabbat_."

I was a little surprised with this sudden departure, as Joseph had not mentioned before that he would be going away that evening, and we said our farewells and wished one another a good _pesach_.

The next day was the beginning of the festival and of the sacrifices, and we all went to Temple as a family to fulfill the traditional rites. As night fell we went to Isaac's house for the _seder_. When I returned home with Ruth, we stayed for a while up in the terrace, and I told her about the day's events at the Temple. She didn't have an opinion either of what could have possibly happened for them to call it a miracle, but I could see that she was determined to find out.

On the day of _Shabbat_ , I stayed at home during the morning, and later in the afternoon I went with Isaac to the Temple, now filled to capacity with the faithful and with many Gentiles who usually came to visit and sightsee at such occasions.

"It's strange. I can't see any Messianics here today," commented Isaac nervously, "and so many Gentiles today..."

"They could be anywhere. There are so many people here."

"They are usually over there," he said, pointing out, "and Joseph? Is he back?"

"No, he said he would be back after the _Shabbat_."

"I do hope they are not up to some of their tricks. The Romans are always jumpy at these times."

"Seems to me that they aren't the only ones" I answered looking at him.

Joseph did return in the next day, this time alone. As we greeted, he enquired about the _pesach_ and asked when I was planning to return to Caesarea.

"I usually stay in town for about two weeks. There are always things to do, but why? You want to go back already?"

"Saul wants to leave as soon as possible."

"For Antioch?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Are you going with him?"

"Yes, Ahasver, I'm going with them, and if the Lord wills it, I'll go with them in their missions to spread the words and teachings of the Messiah."

"Well then, we'll go too, if that's your wish, but give me two days to wrap things up here."

Once agreed, I soon let Ruth know of our imminent departure. I had noticed that she wasn't too keen in staying in Jerusalem for much longer. And that night, the three of us once more laid up in the terrace after dinner.

"Reverend Joseph, can you tell us about the miracle?" she asked.

I could see that he was caught unaware by the question. Our conversation so far had been of a more mundane nature, but he reluctantly agreed to answer, which also surprised me. He had been so emphatic about it on that day.

"I did speak of a miracle, didn't I, Ahasver?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Joseph. You were very enthusiastic about it" I answered with some irony, as it now looked as if the so called miracle was not all that wondrous.

"Well, to understand it and what it really means, I have to go back in time and explain what we have been doing in Antioch, or to be more accurate, what Saul and Barnabas, have been doing with the Lord's blessing."

He went on, as neither of us wanted to interrupt his train of thought.

"Our Messiah said in various instances, and I think it is stated very clearly in that codex that you both read, that all men are worthy and deserve to be saved, and not just our Judaean brothers."

"Yes, we have heard of it, you are talking of conversions" said Ruth.

"Exactly, and many have converted indeed. Saul and Barnabas have traveled extensively, preaching the word in many lands, in Cyprus, in Lycia, in Cilicia and even in Galatia."

"Joseph," I interrupted, "but why all this effort and urgency with these conversions? I don't see other religions doing it so keenly, certainly not our Pharisaic or Sadducean brethren doing anything like it."

"It's very simple, Ahasver. These others you mention are nothing more than sprouts of the same tree, and what they basically profess is just slight variations of the same belief, like details in regard to interpretations of the scriptures, differences in behavior towards some rites, and so on."

"Isn't your faith also one of these sprouts?"

"Of course. Let us not forget that Yeshua too was a devout believer."

"Well then..."

"The difference is that Messianism is the result of the personal sacrifice of the Messiah, and His promise goes far beyond the narrow course of our traditional beliefs. The very same beliefs that those others claim to be the only and true religion."

"But..."

"Wait, Ahasver, let me finish. The second reason is the Spirit, our divine inspiration, the certainty of the right path to salvation. That is the path that those who believe in Yeshua must follow, but to do so they must understand the way. And that is why we have this divine mission to teach everyone on how to achieve it. Through His words and His teachings."

I could understand that it was pointless to contradict him. Once more, my path, a path through reason and argument would lead us nowhere.

"But, reverend Joseph, what about the miracle?" insisted Ruth, not satisfied with his meandering thoughts

"This miracle I mentioned," clearing his throat and reluctantly continuing, "well... it is basically the fact that our brothers have accepted Saul's argument that we should allow for the conversion of the Gentiles without them having to fulfill all the commandments of the scriptures."

"What? Which ones do you mean?" I asked, fearing an even more heretical answer.

"Some that are stated in the Torah."

"To keep the _Shabbat_ , for example?" I ventured.

"No, our main concern is with circumcision."

I was stunned! And I couldn't help asking scornfully.

"That is the miracle?"

"Yes, Ahasver. It is a miracle ! This is the miracle that we are taking to Antioch, to the Levant, to Greece, to Rome, to the whole world!"

It was truly abominable. How could they even have thought of such? But Ruth, always more sensible and less volatile asked.

"But Joseph, why is that so important?"

"Ruth, all Gentiles dislike and abhor circumcision, and if we continue to demand it from the newly converted we will not achieve our aim." and he went on, "We cannot forget that our Messiah asked us to redeem all men. We cannot do it in time if we continue to demand for circumcision."

"In time?" I asked intrigued.

"Time is against us, Ahasver. We know that the return of Yeshua is to be soon, and when the time comes all will be judged, and all who believe in Him and accept Him will be saved. How will we answer when He asks us why so few have heard of His word and follow His teachings?"

"But that is going against the most sacred commandments," I answered, "we are the chosen people because we follow the commandments of the Lord," and I added, "all commandments, not just the more convenient or the easier ones."

"Yes, Ahasver, it is written, and was written many many generations ago, and followed with the utmost rigor so far, but even so, where are we as the chosen people? We are practically slaves of the Romans in our own land, spread throughout the world in communities that barely tolerate us, persecuted and imprisoned by conquerors, ruled by tyrants and despots... it is all too obvious for us that the Lord is not pleased with His people."

"If I were you, Joseph, I would not venture to interpret the will of the Lord. Anyway, our destiny is unaltered. We may have to suffer, but we do know that our messiah will come to save us, it is written."

"It is indeed, and the prophecy has come true in Yeshua. By His words we know that we have gone astray from the true path, and to His followers He has given the mission to prepare all mankind for His return. It is the voice of the Lord spoken by His son Yeshua."

It was the voice of heresy I was now listening to. The same absurdities that I had heard before.

"And this miracle was granted by Yeshua? Or was it the men, the brothers, who have now decided to ignore a holy commandment?"

"They are His disciples, Ahasver, mandated by Him to speak in His name, and divinely inspired by the holy Spirit. Only them can speak and decide under His authority."

Once more Joseph's credulity supplanted any possible counter-argument.

"You mean to say that our scriptures can be changed by these followers of Yeshua?" it was my last attempt to reason it out. Even I began to think that if this conversation lasted much longer, I would start blaspheming too.

"Once we accept the nature of Yeshua as the son of the Lord, then any such change can only be by His will and desire."

"But you just said it was done by his disciples."

"Ahasver, not as mere mortals, such as you or I, but through the Spirit who instigates and inspires such deeds."

"In other words, these brothers believe to be divine too, appointed as such by this spirit" and with some repulse, and not even waiting for further comments, I stood up "Joseph, I am truly sorry but no one capable of rational thinking could ever believe such trifle."

But I was really astonished, and I couldn't understand how a man, such as Joseph, could ever accept an argument so divergent from our most profound beliefs, and all because of some divine inspiration by a group of almost illiterate men who followed the teachings of another who was executed for sedition and heresy.

It suddenly dawned on me, from the logic of that dialogue, why there were fanatics, men and women who were emotionally able to willingly stone someone to death in the name of religion. At that instant, I could almost sympathize with them!

As we all gathered on the morning of our departure for Caesarea, Joseph understood, as old friends always do, that I was still disturbed with our conversation of the previous night, and despite an apparent cordiality among all, we set off in awkward silences and evasive glances. The day promised to be warm and sunny, and the road was packed with pilgrims returning to their homes. I felt pity once more for Joseph, and even extended this feeling to his other companions, because I knew that they were wrong and that such errors would damn them all to eternal oblivion. And most of the journey was spent in innocent chatter and short dialogues.

In Caesarea, they once more stayed at the house and busied themselves with the arrangements for their journey to Antioch. Alleging urgent matters and impatient customers, I saw little of them during those days, but I was still feeling anguished with Joseph, recalling other moments and reliving memories of better days, simpler days. I lived with a sentiment of impotence, often looking at him as one looks at a condemned man, someone who was now way beyond any help, whose fate was already set, and far from the grace of the Lord.

Nights were spent in idle chatter, recalling other moments, speaking of friends, discussing the Romans and the Greeks, listening to his views on business issues and drawing plans and ideas for lucrative deals. His other companions seldom joined us, and Saul kept himself away more than the others, busily writing his long letters.

On the night before their departure, and as was customary, we were all laying on the couches in the terrace, when Ruth simply announced her desire to convert and that she would like Saul to baptize her.

Silence followed. Deep dark silence.

And then I couldn't hear anything, neither the wind, nor the sea, or any other sound. It was if I had departed from that reality. I wasn't there. I was nowhere. And it was their silent gazes, and not their words, that brought me back from that terrible limbo. And as my senses returned, my first impression was of loss, a loss so intense as the death of a beloved one. My second feeling was of anger, rage... I had lost the battle for Ruth.

If the death of my son had been the result of cruel and inevitable fate, the situation with Ruth was a personal defeat, overpowered, not by the inclemency of destiny, but taken away from me by the words and the promises of a long dead preacher, whose followers I had reluctantly helped, them who I now despised and hated, the very same who were there at that moment, under my own roof.

"Ahasver..."

It sounded like Ruth, it seemed to be her voice, but who was that woman who now stared at me? That face seemed familiar, but who was she, really? Had I ever truly known her? And those words... they wanted to drag me back, pull me again into a reality from which I wanted to escape.

"Ahasver..."

Joseph had now stood and came to me, visibly worried with my catatonic state. I stood up too, and I stumbled down the stairs in hurried and erratic steps. I wanted to leave, get far away from that instant, I wanted never to have been there, in that terrace and in that moment.

I called for the servants, asked for a horse, and I rode out.

I went towards the port, dodging pedestrians and carts, passed by the temple of Augustus where I glimpsed men decorating part of the porticoes for some forthcoming festival. I felt the wind riding against me, and the smells of the marketplace following me, and I finally got off in the pallid sand of a murky and deserted beach where I sat staring at the erratic dances of lights on a ship sailing off on those viscous waters. I wanted to join them...

I eventually fell asleep on that humid and cold ground, a deep slumber, a dreamless shivering sleep, and when I woke, I realized that it was cold, a dense and gluey cold. It was still night, and now without my ride, I started on my way back into town, towards home.

Close to the harbor, I found some of the servants who were looking for me, and when I did arrive at the house, both Ruth and Joseph were waiting by the gate, both looking troubled and anxious and worried. But I just ignored them. I didn't hear their words or questions. I went up to my room and laid down fully dressed, without prayers or ablutions. I dreamed this time. A vivid dream, in blood-red hues, with shadows and shapes and indistinct characters speaking in muffled voices, all in an insane kaleidoscope of shapes and movements, and when I woke again, I just laid still, exhausted and sweaty.

Ruth came and left.

Joseph also came by and watched over me for a while.

They brought food and drink, and took it back untouched. And I kept to that lethargic inaction.

I did fall ill, physically. The cold of that night by the seashore did affect me, and for some days I lived under a blessed stupor, feverish and silent, occasionally interrupted by the presence of Ruth, who came to keep me company and to force on me some hot broths and medicinal teas. Some times I felt Joseph near, holding my hand or my arm, in muted support for my plight.

How old he looked.

How I pitied and hated him in those days.

My return was gradual, and for that I am grateful. Little by little I grew aware of what surrounded me, and reality slowly took shape again, bringing back the senses, the colors, the sounds and the odors. The darkness was abandoning me, faces were discernible once more. Chronos had once again come through for me.

Once more able to sit at the table, where we usually ate when there was just the two of us, Ruth told me that Joseph had departed, anguished for having to leave without seeing me well, and unable to say a proper farewell. I didn't comment, and somehow I was relieved. I had never liked partings.

Seeing that I kept my silence, Ruth did not add anything more. Later on, I much regretted not having said my farewells to Joseph.

Later, I looked up at Ruth and announced.

"I am going away..."

She got up from the table, turned to leave, and answered.

"I know."

That was what Ruth had always meant to me. She knew, even before I did, what I intended to do.

"Please sit." I asked her, "If it is your desire to convert, I will not stand in your way. As your husband, I always understood that I had to care and protect you from harm. I obviously failed. Nor could I stop Yeshua from leaving us. I can clearly see that I cannot stop you from joining this sect. A sect that I brought into this house. I failed, and I will have to live with that guilt."

"Ahasver..."

"No. Let me finish, and when I do, I will not speak of this again, ever."

And I continued. "I have just told you that I will go away, and when I return I will go to live in another house. I am going to ask Ioanis to find me a place somewhere near. We will still see each other, I won't stop looking after you, it is still my duty. But I cannot, and will not, live in the same house, in the company of my most dear friend who is now also my greatest failure."

Nothing more was said between us that evening.

THE TRAVELLER

Years 49 - 50

To travel without purpose is always an escape. We believe that distance and absence will soothe the reason that leads us to leave. We hope that new sights will feed and expand our consciousness, and the distractions we encounter will dull the memories we leave behind. And my escape had to be immediate. I didn't spend much time with arrangements. Every moment wasted only added to the uncertainty of my decision. Time, time was scarce, and in good time I found myself in the company of Alexander, once more staring at a city that was growing smaller and hazier in the bluish distance

As soon as I had mentioned to Ioanis of my desire to visit Alexandria, he immediately offered me the company of his son. He would not allow me to travel on my own.

"Ahasver," he assured me, "not only is Alexander old enough to help you in any situation you might find yourself, but it is also an opportunity for him to get to know his mother's relatives in Alexandria."

So it happened. I was not very optimistic, nor sure that such a remedy would alleviate the infirmity or ease the pain, but at least I now had a purpose and a goal.

Since the earliest times when I had started to attend the lectures at the _agora_ , I had heard of Alexandria, as most of the speakers that came to Caesarea originated from that city. Their colorful descriptions of its beauty and culture were reinforced in conversations I held with merchants that arrived in the granary ships, filled with barley and corn, lovingly describing what was the most wondrous place in the world. Rome could be bigger and be the center of all power, but Alexandria was the pinnacle of culture, the light of the world, and not just metaphorically. It was in that magnificent city that had been built the tallest lighthouse that the world had ever seen.

I believed that getting to know that city would be a kind of high point of my curious and restless nature, once before dazzled with the splendors of Antioch. If I had left a significant part of myself in Caesarea, who knew what I would bring with me from Alexandria.

After a journey of two days, we docked in the port of Jaffa, an old city, built over large rocks and in the recesses of steep bluffs, a city discolored by the sands, indistinct from so many others in Judaea. The harbor, smaller and shabbier than our own, was filled with ships of various sizes and shapes, most of them revealing their Egyptian origin.

On our arrival, we went up to the local temple where I gave thanks for our safe journey, and we then took ourselves to my local emporium which I had not visited for some time. Received by Hevel, the local overseer, we spent the rest of the day in repose, although Alexander was eager to visit the old town. But there was not much to see, and after two days he was quite satisfied with what he had seen. But we still had two more days to wait until the ship was loaded with the merchandise that was being carried to Egypt.

Irrespective of how short a journey is, one's eagerness to arrive always seems to extend it beyond reason, or so we feel, but finally, pushed onwards by generous gusts of dry and hot winds, we saw the distant glow of the lighthouse long before we sighted the city. Since it was too late to make our way into the inner harbor, we spent the night close to one of the moles by the island of Pharos.

The lighthouse, revealed in all its grandeur by the morning light, was truly impressive. As we sailed towards the docks and passed by its side, I would never have imagined that something so high could actually be built.

On the whole, it resembled a square fortress, with fortified walls surrounding the existing tower that rose to a height of almost a _stadium_. This tower was made up of three different stages. The first reaches half of the full height and is square in shape. The second was octagonal in shape and narrower than the base, and finally a round tower, almost like a large column, narrower than the previous one, rises to the top, where it is capped by a small dome where is located the mirror that reflects the sunlight and where at night a fire is lit.

Although it is built in an Egyptian style, we could also see adornments and statuary clearly of Greek origin. A meeting of two millennial cultures and truly colossal. The Greeks were undoubtedly geniuses, confirmed the Greek Alexander by my side.

On the opposite side of the inner bay, high above the port, magnificent buildings and pavilions could be seen among the foliage of gardens that extended down to almost sea level. Given their magnificence and splendor it could only the palace complex. Compared to those, Herod's palace in Caesarea was a mere shadow. Awed by these sights, Alexander once again praised his own.

We could hardly wait to disembark and further explore the wonders of the city, hidden behind those piers and granaries of the port. When we finally stepped off the ship, Alexander went to look for a litter to take us to a house in the Judaean quarter, known as the Delta, where I was told there were several Judaean boarding houses.

Although Ioanis had suggested that we should stay with his relatives, I believed it would be inconvenient for us and them. After all, I was only too aware that my own religious practices and restrictions might not be understood and even tolerated by Gentiles, especially the Greeks who were the eternal rivals of the Judaeans in that city. Besides, I had no idea for how long we would stay in Alexandria.

But we did visit his relatives, and were received with the utmost civility, notwithstanding the usual acrimony between Greeks and Judaeans. I was even praised for my fluency with their language and my limited knowledge of their culture and customs. I explained about my admiration for the eloquence and the rhetoric skills of their orators, who often visited Caesarea, even comparing some of their differing styles, and willingly they offered to take us to the _agora_ and to explore the Temple of the Muses, close to the Great Library.

"And the Serapeum," I asked, "can it be visited too?"

"Well, it can... but it is a temple" replied Markus hesitantly, Alexander's uncle.

"Is there a problem?" asked Alexander.

"It is a sacred temple to the god Serapis, a sacred place. I don't think I've ever seen a Judaean there, and it is fair to warn you that it could be a problem."

I could see that, but what I really wanted was to visit the library there, as I knew that the Great Library at the _museum_ was out of bounds for non-scholars.

"It is a shame. I would have liked to see it."

Alexander, impulsive as any youngster, asked Markus. "What if Ahasver dressed up as a Greek? Could it then be arranged?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, you could wear some clothes that don't give you up as a Judaean, more in the local style of the Greeks. We could go together... I don't look like a Judaean."

Well, it didn't take much to convince them, and we all decided to try it anyway. Talking Greek, dressed as a Greek and in the company of Greeks, I guessed it would pass. After all, there was no discernible physical difference between me and most of the other Greeks that I knew in Caesarea. So we did buy some clothes, a tunic that was too short for my comfort — but most adequate for that hot climate — and one of those effeminate sandals with too many straps.

It was in that library at the Serapeum where I spent most of the time while we stayed in Alexandria, reading some of the better known rolls and manuscripts of authors that I knew, and also in conversations with some of the curators and librarians.

Although the library was mostly filled with readers and scholars, it was inevitable that our presence would be noticed some day. There weren't all those many travelers who visited daily, or sat quietly and attentively during lectures, unlike most of the other attendees who repeatedly interrupted with questions and comments. When I enquired about the possibility of having one or two platonic discourses copied, one of the younger librarians, named Nikolaus, asked me if I was a scholar and from where I was. I did invent a bit, but did not deviate much from the truth either. I told him was I was from Caesarea Maritima in the Roman province of Judaea, and I was a merchant who was a keen collector of books and manuscripts.

But Nikolaus, grabbing me by the arm, whispered.

"I don't think you are Greek. Not with that semitic accent."

Undecided whether to be honest, I interpreted his whisper as positive, and I opted for the truth.

"You are right, I'm originally from Jerusalem, but I am an admirer of Platonism and of rhetoric, logic and Greek eloquence on the whole. I hope that's enough to justify my presence here" I replied also in a low tone.

"But of course!" he exclaimed into my ear, "Forgive me for asking, but we do get very few visitors who are not Greek or Egyptian... we do see some Romans sometimes and one or two Antiochenes, but that's about it. But, you are wise in being discreet. Judaeans are not all that welcomed in here.

So it started that friendship where we both profited from each other's knowledge and opinions. Nikolaus, although much younger that I, was already a traveler of some repute and a pupil of one of the most learned sages of the _museum_ , a famous scholar by the name of Aristarchus, author of several books on mysticism and the Babylonian cults. It was on a visit to Babylon that he had spent some time in Jerusalem and learned to identify my semitic accent.

"In truth," explained Nikolaus, "master Aristarchus is a theologian, an enthusiast of the rites and dogmas of religions, and an expert in some of the most mysterious rituals."

"I must confess that I didn't know that word or science. I'm sure that it's not easy to study several religions" I ventured, as I thought of all that I had had to learn about my own religion.

"Actually, it is an ambiguous word. There are some who use it to characterize the type of poetry that is written on the behavior and the nature of the gods, but here we use it in the context of the study of religions, also how Plato used it. Master Aristarchus has also studied your religion, and he has a few Judaean friends in the city. But of what I have learned, I think your faith is very restrictive, full of rules and too many restrictions.

"Why do you say that? Isn't it the same with religion in general? Don't gods limit our scope, our actions and activities?"

"In general, all gods expect some sort of obeisance, that is true, but not as much as your god, I think. That is very evident for us outsiders, when we consider how truculent and committed your people are in defending your one godhead."

"Well, I know that my opinion is biased and of little value to you, but I have always thought that our rituals are very clear and explicit, after all, they are clearly written down in our scriptures.

"Yes, I do know that. Ahasver, we have here a copy of the Pentateuch in Greek, the five books of Moses."

"I had heard of a Greek translation. Not a very accurate work, I was told."

"Come, let me show you" and standing up we went towards one of the lateral reading rooms, where one functionary took down my name after Nikolaus explained the purpose of our visit.

And that's where I first saw the Torah in Greek, five thick rolls of papyrus.

"This is the Septuagint, the name by which we call this translation. Your sages did not allow us to call it the Greek Torah or the Greek Law, so we came up with that name that refers to the seventy scholars who did most of the actual translation work."

I understood such reluctance. After all the Torah was the most sacred book, and it was never supposed to be altered from the original form.

"The translation was done here?"

"Yes, in Alexandria. You see, some of your priests do use it, and it was them who originally asked for its translation, as most of the Judaeans in the city are not familiar with the Hebrew language anymore. But it was quite a task! As I said, your people can be very assertive in these matters."

I could have explained that Judaism was not meant for everyone, and we all knew that there were many obstacles for conversion. It was exactly that difficulty that made it special, that separated it from all others, as expected of the religion of the people chosen by the Lord, but I nodded in agreement, and just answered him that there were also religions where the initiation rites were secret, mysterious and limitative.

"Yes, but not as restrictive as yours," he commented, "and none that I know of, forces their followers to such a barbarity as circumcision. I'm sorry, I might seem rude, but we Greeks feel very strongly about the mutilation of such a sensitive part of our body."

This could lead to a long discussion on customs and cultures, as I had also noticed in the city many Egyptians displaying tattoos, a desecration of the body forbidden by our own Law. But I could also understand the viewpoint of Nikolaus. I believed that what was repugnant to him was not so much the incision, but rather the part of the body where this was performed.

"I understand, Nikolaus, but once again it is a commandment of the Lord, and very clearly expressed in our scriptures," I replied pointing to the Septuagint, "and I can assure you that it is totally innocuous."

"I'll take your word for it, Ahasver," he said, maliciously smiling, "and as far as we know, with no impact whatsoever in terms of your people's fertility."

Conversations or remarks over sexual issues always left me uneasy.

Impure thoughts or a too vivid imaginary was frown on, and even condemned by the scriptures, and there was a whole set of rites to cleanse us spiritually of such thoughts. But not so with the Greeks. Their own culture extolled the libido in all its forms and shapes. Statues of naked women and men were exhibited not only in temples, but also in residences and public places. Vases and amphorae were grotesquely decorated with intimate and provocative scenes, not to mention pederasty, which was praised by philosophers and practiced earnestly by statesmen, warriors and scholars.

Many were the days spent in that library, so many that Alexander soon abandoned me. Bored with all the many parchments and manuscripts, and in the company of his cousins, he started to attend the enormous public _gymnasium_ , which was undoubtedly the biggest and most beautiful that I had ever seen. Also, tired with our lodging in the Judaean quarter, we rented a small house closer to the Serapeum and to Alexander's family.

With the exception of _Shabbats_ , I went almost daily to that library, occupying myself with reading some of the works that Nikolaus would point out to me, or listening to classes that were open for anyone interested in attending them.

My friendship with Nikolaus grew in those days and weeks, cemented by our mutual interests and the passion for literature on the whole. I was enthralled to be there, reading comedies of Aristophanes and Menander, and the melodramatic tragedies of Euripides and Aeschylus. But also delighted with our walks about town, where I was shown the splendor of the temple of Poseidon, the femininity of the temple of Isis, and the lushness of the gardens in the palaces of the Ptolemy, heirs of the old King-gods of past ages.

During those weeks, I met a few of his friends, mostly scholars at the Great Library, and also his former mentor and one of the most famous philosophers of his time, Master Aristarchus. Nikolaus, given the unusual circumstances and exoticism of my presence at the Serapeum, was keen to show me off, and the old Master, with the natural tolerance of the wiser, was extremely courteous and cordial.

Nikolaus highly praised my enthusiasm for the Hellenic culture on the whole, pointing out my transformation into a native Greek, and maliciously implied how hard that must have been for a devoted Judaean from Jerusalem.

"I must admit, Master Ahasver," said Aristarchus, "that I was surprised when Nikolaus recently described you to me. Not because you are a Judaean interested in our culture, that is not so unusual. We do have a few here in Alexandria, Philo, for example, but because you are a trader, a merchant. That to me is what makes you unique."

"Master, I'm afraid that one of my vices is curiosity."

"I wouldn't call it a vice, but a virtue," and he concluded, "as long as we use it for purposeful ends and not for the collecting of mundane gossip."

As is usually the case in conversations among relative strangers with conflicting interests and degrees of knowledge, our conversation was mostly about trivial matters, but Nikolaus, all too aware of the theological interests of Aristarchus, led us to speak about the religious divergences between our two cultures.

"Master," addressing Aristarchus, "I have shown Ahasver the Septuagint."

"Oh, yes, the famous Greek Torah that half the Judaean community abhors and the other vehemently refutes" sighed Aristarchus.

"You're being too negative, Master. We do know of temples where it is used."

"Yes, yes... to be read to Judaeans who are too lazy to learn Hebrew, or so say most of your priests, Ahasver. And there are those, quite a few actually, who accuse us of subverting your culture. And others accuse us of heresy and conceit for having it translated."

"As I said, Ahasver," commented Nikolaus, "yours is a difficult people to content."

How could I deny ?

"I somewhat agree with you on that argument, but you mustn't take it personally. Even within our own religion there are contentious groups."

"Oh yes, Master Ahasver," said Aristarchus, "We do know about them too. Your own philosophers also disagree on some interpretations of your law, the Saducees, the Pharisees..."

"Exactly, Master, but there are no arguments over the scriptures. It's the interpretations that are sometimes distorted to suit specific purposes, and, as if all that was not enough, we also have the false prophets who claim to be bearers of the divine will and end-up distorting the commandments."

"Oh yes, and your messiahs too, the so called liberators."

"Yes" I agreed with Aristarchus.

"Most complicated, isn't it?" sentenced Nikolaus.

"Not so much Nikolaus," smiled Aristarchus, "after all they only have the one god. What is that compared with the Babylonians who have more than sixty thousand deities? But tell me, Master Ahasver, have you ever heard of Jesus, one of those liberators who was executed by the Romans ?"

Until that very moment, no one had yet mentioned the Nazarenes in the city.

"Yes, Master, I have indeed," and propelled by vanity, I bragged, "and I've had some dealings with them in the past."

I could see that Aristarchus was eager to know more.

"But tell me, Master Aristarchus, how did you hear about them? Are they preaching here in Alexandria too?"

"I first heard of them from an old friend with whom I keep regular contact in Jerusalem. I would say about ten to fifteen years ago. Then, when we were in your city," pointing towards Nikolaus, "must have been about seven years, wasn't it... yes, well, I heard of them again, which at the time surprised me, as these Messianic movements are usually very ephemeral."

He went on. "I don't recall if I commented it at the time," looking to Nikolaus, "well, it doesn't really matter. But I was curious, yes, I must admit. Again in Damascus we heard of them from the Judaean community there. But I actually never met any of them or know what they profess. But their longevity is most intriguing, and because of that I am curious to know what is so different about them, when compared to the other groupings that rose in the past."

We spent most of that afternoon talking about the Nazarenes, and Nikolaus, asked by Aristarchus, took notes of some of the events and facts that I recalled about Yeshua. At some point, Aristarchus interrupted me.

"Master Ahasver, are you a follower of this cult ?"

"No, no."

"But how do you know so many details about them?"

I then mentioned Joseph's book, not disclosing Ruth's intentions to convert, which I assumed that by this time she had already done so.

"Do you have this manuscript with you?"

"No, Master Aristarchus, it's at my place, in Caesarea."

"How unfortunate..."

But Nikolaus, whose interest had also been roused by our conversation, suggested. "Ahasver wouldn't it be possible to have it copied and sent to us? I am sure that Master Aristarchus would reciprocate your generosity with a copy of some book here in the library."

Aristarchus agreed readily, and suggested that I take one of Plato's discourses, since we had been talking of the afterlife and the dogmas defended by the Nazarenes.

"The book I refer, Master Ahasver, is Plato's dialogue between Phaedo and Echecrates, where they discuss the death of Socrates and the nature of the afterlife. As you know, Socrates was also condemned to death for not believing in the gods, so there is an interesting parallel to this Yeshua. I believe it will be a fair exchange, don't you?"

I would not think that, rather the opposite. It would be far more interesting to read about Socrates than about the Nazarenes, but I kept this opinion to myself and just nodded in assent.

"It will be my pleasure, Master," and I added sardonically, " I do hope you will enjoy the miracles, most enlightening..."

"Miracles?"

"Yes, miracles. The book is very repetitive in enumerating miracles."

"Well, that's even more interesting. I suppose these are miracles performed un public, witnessed by many?"

"Yes, so they claim. Is it really that interesting to you?" I wanted it confirmed as I could hardly believe that such a distinguished scholar could take miracles seriously.

"Oh yes, of course It has been years since we have heard of miracles here. Not since the last Pharaohs and the arrival of the Ptolemy," and he added with the hint of a smile, "I believe that we Greeks killed that practice."

"Master, you exaggerate" commented Nikolaus amiably.

"Not at all, Nikolaus. Don't you know what is the nemesis of a miracle?" and not waiting for an answer, he continued, "Knowledge... philosophy exterminates them!"

It would take four weeks at least, to have the dialogue copied. Alexander was not pleased, confessing to me that he was homesick and fed up with his relatives, a bunch of libertines, as he described them. Feeling somewhat guilty for having neglected him for some time, we went out more often, visiting some of the sights, attending the theatre and the games. But the high point of all this exploration, at least for me, was the long awaited visit to the _museum_ , also known as the Temple of the Muses, guided by two of his cousins who were attending classes there.

The various buildings that made up the _museum_ were done in a less adorned style than the surrounding temples and palaces, since they were built in the initial days of the Ptolemy dynasty, and still showed the usual characteristics of the older Egyptian architecture. They were located not far from the sea harbor, close to the royal palaces, and amongst them the more impressive edifice is the Great Library itself. Although it was easy enough to enter the _museum_ — paying a small entrance fee — we could not visit the Great Library, only accessible for registered students and the resident scholars.

Aristarchus, notwithstanding his cordiality, had never mentioned the library to me, and despite my curiosity I never enquired of him about the possibility of visiting it.

I can frankly say that the day proved to be as fascinating as I had expected. Our guides, familiar with the contents and the layout of the various buildings, were tireless and eager to show us as much as it was possible.

We saw true wonders, starting with the cosmological model of Aristarchus — another Aristarchus, not the scholar I had met. Amazed with all that surrounded us, we visited rooms where intricate apparatuses were on display, solar clocks of complex design and dubious utility, ingenious clepsydras moved by water, and engines working with steam. We furtively looked on rooms filled with students hearing of anatomy, medicine and astronomy. We visited halls where scribes, sitting in long tables, meticulously copied texts of different languages, and we finally went out into the gardens to admire exotic species of plants brought from all over the known world. We also gazed at animals that I had never seen before, including elephants, truly magnificent creatures. Even Joseph, a well traveled man, would have been amazed by their size, recalling a conversation we had in Antioch where these beasts had been mentioned.

Overall I was awed, exhilarated with all that I had seen, the variety, the scope of inventiveness that was displayed there, and the actual size of the whole complex. So, I was not at all surprised when someone mentioned that there were more than a thousand scholars, from all over the world, permanently residing in that most impressive temple devoted to learning.

As soon as Plato's work was copied and ready, we started with the arrangements for our trip back home, and I went to say my farewells to Nikolaus.

"It has been a very great pleasure to have met you, Ahasver" he vowed as he kissed me Greek-style.

"I will never forget you my dear friend. If there is ever a way for me to return your kindness, you know where to find me. Always!"

"Who knows what the future reserves us?"

"Probably only one of your famous oracles" I replied smiling.

"Delphi is too far for me, and anyway, the Sibyls are silent these days. Maybe nearby in Buto, on the Nile delta, Uadjit might be more responsive."

It was not difficult to find a ship, destined for Sidon but stopping at Caesarea too. Overall our stay in the city had lasted for more than six months, immersed in wonder with all that I had seen, read and heard. And only on the very last day, before our actual departure, did I get rid of those Greek sandals and returned to my usual attire.

We now had a long journey ahead of us, but I was not too eager to arrive, despite the longings that long journeys always bring on us. I was not looking forward to what waited for me at home.

At our arrival, I was once more surprised that nothing seemed to have changed in the city during our absence. The port was still the same, the movement in the docks as regular as ever, the same welcoming columns in the moles were still there, the temple to the divine Augustus as immaculate as always. Even the palace, abandoned once again, was as haughty as it had always been in that promontory. I was the one who had changed, older, and I hoped, wiser because of my stay in Alexandria. And since no one knew of our arrival, we had to arrange for transportation for us and for our voluminous luggage. I had brought presents for some friends, some of the staff, and even for the older servants, as well as some clothing and Egyptian jewelry. Also a heavy bust of Pythagoras for Ioanis, knowing how he liked the old philosopher.

Alexander, exuberant to return home, and by some of his conversations, I deduced into the arms of his beloved, had been a most helpful assistant, and on the way I appointed him to be my secretary, following on his father's footsteps. Despite his youth, he had amply demonstrated his resourcefulness, and in truth I was very fond of him, seeing in him much of what I had hoped to find in my Yeshua.

When he finally got to the house, almost everyone rushed to welcome us, hugged by tight embraces and the soft sobs of the women. This was a reception worthy of two intrepid travelers from one of old Homer's odysseys, as Ioanis later commented, visibly relieved with our safe return.

But Ruth wasn't home. And Ioanis, before I could comment her absence, soon explained.

"Ahasver, mistress Ruth wouldn't stay in this house."

"What do you mean? Where is she?" I asked anxiously, "What's wrong?"

"I did find a house, as you asked me to, but mistress Ruth didn't want to stay here and took residence in the other one."

"Did she explain her decision?"

"She said that this house was too big for her, and since it was close to the emporium it would be more convenient for you to continue to live here. Also, because it was also known to all to be your place of work."

Yes, I knew that too. One of the reasons for wanting her to remain in the house was so that I would be able to see her regularly.

"Where is this house?"

"Not too far, close to the temple of Isis."

"Did she take some servants with her?"

"Yes, she asked for two of the girls, nobody else, but I sent her a boy from the stables to be her porter."

"You did well, Ioanis, as always. I'll go there later on. Now I want to take a good bath to get this salt off my skin and some lighter clothing. Later we'll talk more, I want to know what is going on in the city and how we're doing business-wise."

The house that Ioanis had bought was the former residence of a Greek broker who had hurriedly left the city when Agrippa died, believing that the Judaeans would soon rebel against the Romans. Ioanis had bought it at the time. I liked it, and I would have enjoyed living there. It was comfortable and airy, open to the breezes that rolled off the seashore.

Surprisingly, I was effusively received by Ruth, more than I had hoped for, and we sat on the small _atrium_ , richly decorated with a magnificent floor in mosaic, and to the sound of water bubbling off some fountain deeper within the house.

"Are you well?" I asked amiably.

"Yes, Ahasver, very well," she almost mumbled in reply, still visibly moved by seeing me, "and now much relieved with your safe return, thanks to the Lord. Ahasver," she quickly added softly, "I was afraid!"

"But why?"

"I had evil premonitions," she meekly added, "Bad dreams..."

I had to admit that she didn't look too well, and I could not help feeling some guilt for having left her for so long. She was still wearing those same blacks gowns, a vision of widowhood. Her face, once ripe and shiny with health, was now a map of sadness, where deep wrinkles framed those teary eyes and encircled colorless lips.

"But are you well?" I insisted once again.

"Yes, more consoled, more at peace, certainly. And I missed you, your company..."

And quickly added. "But I know all too well that you will never forgive me for my conversion and I ache for that too."

"So you went ahead..."

"Yes, Ahasver, I told you. I believe, unlike you, that we all deserve an eternal life of bliss and not in _sheol_."

"Well, it's your decision. You'll have to live and die with it" I said more bitterly than I originally intended.

"It was also for you, and for Yeshua..."

"Please do not bring me into it."

"Ahasver..."

"Yes?"

"Ahasver, be brave, Joseph has died..."

Joseph ! My dearest friend, my second father and brother! I could not believe it. I did not want to believe it.

"Ahasver, Saul sent a letter. Ioanis has it."

Abruptly, I stood up, shaken, stunned, and casting a last look into Ruth's mournful eyes I went out into the street, blinded by that harsh midday sun. Suddenly I was back in time. Again in a day of interments, of odoriferous death and colorless caskets. Again in that cursed place, wearing the same anguish, reliving the same morbid moments and black sentiments. And I cursed. I cursed against the inequity of fate, of injustice... I cursed Chronos... and mostly the Nazarenes who had taken him down to the path of _sheol_ where his spirit would now roam forevermore in eternal damnation.

I returned home literally in tatters, under surprised gazes of passers-by. Ignoring all, I went up to the terrace and sat on one of the couches looking at nothingness, totally abstracted, immersed in fading light, waiting for the coveted dark of night. I recall someone coming up the stairs and enquiring after me, but I do not remember the answer, and there I laid for the remainder of that evening, that first night of my return home.

Saul's note, written in too flowery _koine_ , explained what had happened. Joseph had fallen ill during their return trip to Antioch and passed away as they arrived in Tyre, in peace — so he claimed — comforted by their almighty messiah. His last words had been to the Lord, appealing for the salvation of his soul and the grant of eternal life in Yeshua, and ended this piece of prose assuring me that Joseph was now seating — whatever that meant — in heavenly bliss, by the side of their savior.

Not too comforting those words, at least for me, but that was Saul, a serious demagogue, too long anchored in his convictions. And the message was short and little else added, ending with promises to write more as soon as he arrived in Antioch.

And since misfortune delights in repetition, I still had to read in another letter, this one from Jerusalem, that Gamaliel had also died. Another loss and we were all so much poorer.

I gradually fell into a state of apathy, with no will and motivation to sustain me. I attempted several times to read that pristine copy of Plato's dialogue between Phaedo and the other philosopher with a complicated name, but I could not concentrate enough to make anything of it. I wandered among the phraseological structure, the grammar, the orthography and, in better days, I even tried to decipher some of the semantics.

Ioanis and Alexander came by almost every day. There were things to do, they claimed. Urgent things, they reinforced. They sent Ruth also. I found myself telling her about Alexandria, and of the more picturesque episodes of our journey. We talked much, but I recall little. And, one day, I began to awake from that turpitude.

I reread Plato once more, determined to wrest from that manuscript the sapience of Socrates, but I finally gave up. The very first pages were nothing more that the justification and preparations for a suicide. Not the most adequate reading for that particular moment. Maybe some day I would give it another try.

Year 51

The next few days and months were spent in the normal affairs of a merchant. I handled the sale of the businesses of Joseph, as we had agreed, and waited for word from Antioch in regard to his final testamentary dispositions.

A copy of his will, sent by Saul, and duly recognized by the authorities, stated that all his assets were to be given to various Nazarene congregations in Judaea and Galilee. Saul had also informed me that Joseph had been interred in a tomb in the city of Tyre, in a sepulcher belonging to a Nazarene, and that his final wish had been for his body to be laid in Jerusalem, in the same tomb that he had previously used for their messiah. But, added Saul, it would not be easy to do so, for there would be strong opposition in Jerusalem for the use of this most sacred place.

Indignant with this opinion, I wrote to him informing that I would retain all of Joseph's legacy until this final wish was fulfilled. I also added that I would gladly pay for the transfer of the corpse from Tyre to Jerusalem, and asked him to make his brothers in Jerusalem well aware of my intentions. Furthermore, I added that I knew all too well where the tomb was, in case someone thought of using another for this purpose.

Nearing the month of _Nisan_ , I suggested to Ruth that we should go to Jerusalem for the _pesach_ , but she refused, alleging that she was not feeling well enough for such a trip. For some days, not too willing to go on my own, I was also undecided, and it was Alexander who persuaded me to go.

"Ahasver, why don't you? I would like to go..."

"You? How come? Are you thinking of converting to my faith?" I enquired with a hint of a smile.

Timidly, not knowing whether I was being ironic, he replied. "No, Ahasver, but I haven't been to Jerusalem for many years, and I would like to see your temple. Father never took us to visit it, and besides..."

"Yes?"

"Father doesn't want you to go alone."

"Really? Why is that? Am I too old to go on such a perilous journey all by myself?" I asked mockingly.

"No. I'm sure it's nothing like that but there could be dangers on the road..."

"And you are the one who will gallantly protect me?"

"Of course, if it's necessary!" how rash are the young !

I promised to think on it, but shortly afterwards I was already issuing orders for the preparations. As we were still a few days away from the festival, I decided that we would initially take the road to Arimathea, the birthplace of Joseph, which I had never visited before. One of his dispositions allotted 20 _minas_ to the brotherhood of Arimathea. Despite my decision of not handing anything over to the Nazarenes until we settled the issue of Joseph's funeral, I relented in this case of his native town. Since I would be taking Alexander with me, I would not even have to concern myself with it.

Arimathea was a small hamlet, with the virtues and defects of a town almost forgotten in that arid geography. In the public house where we spent the night, almost everyone knew of Joseph, and we were well received once they became aware of our relationship, and mournful once we passed on the sad news of his demise. We did have some difficulties in finding Nazarenes, and we were cautious in enquiring after them, not knowing how well accepted they were in the town. But once again, due to Alexander's resourcefulness we did find one that lived close to an Essene community on the outskirts of the town.

Surprised to know that there was a Greek believer in town looking for him, Abiram came looking for us, even more surprised when Alexander told him of the reason for wanting to see him. Naturally we explained that this was Joseph's bequest to his brotherhood, and he stared at us speechless, either from hearing that the famous Joseph was a Nazarene, or because of the large amount that he was now receiving. There certainly weren't many Nazarenes in that town, but at least now there was a wealthy one.

Once again in Jerusalem, once again at home, the same where I could still feel Joseph's presence. In all those years, since I had taken residence there, I had not changed most of the furniture or the disposition of the house. In the study there were still many rolls and parchments annotated in his careful calligraphy.

I informed everyone of his passing, and as expected, all were consternated with the news, and most went up to the Temple with their clothes tattered and faces covered in ash. The rites of mourning and the solace we find in the habits and customs of our faith.

Isaac came over too, and so did Rebecca and little Simon, now a boy, and so much like the Isaac I remembered from my own childhood. And after the usual family prattle, we took ourselves to the terrace where we partook of refreshments and some appetizers.

"I am sorry that Ruth decided not to come this year" vowed Isaac.

"Yes, I did insist," I replied, "but she said that maybe next year she might come, she wasn't feeling well and I didn't want to force her either."

"A lot of maybes in there" he teased.

"Yes, well, you know how she is..." I reminded him.

"Yes... and now, with Joseph's death, what is going to happen to all this?" he asked gravely.

"Well, the proceedings from all that is to be sold, as I mentioned to you on that last letter, is to be given to his heirs. The rest I had already purchased from him."

"I didn't know of any heirs."

"Yes. He had drawn a will in Antioch. I received a copy."

"A legal will?"

"Yes, all legal and proper, dully recognized by the magistrates and appointing me as executor for the province."

Isaac had always been transparent. His interest in the will was clearly to see whether he had been included. Maliciously, I admit, I made it quite clear that he was not, but that his son, Simon, was one of the inheritors.

"Really? And what does he get?"

"Well, the will states that he would get this very house after my death, but I'm afraid that it doesn't apply anymore as I have bought it from Joseph since the time the will was drawn."

"Oh! I see. So he gets nothing, really" he concluded sourly.

"Cheer up, brother! Have you forgotten that I don't have any direct descendants of my own? I will not forget him, rest assured."

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about, he just has to wait..."

"Don't go morbid on me now. By the way, you are looking well, Ahasver. You are looking younger than I. I don't know how you do it... time just doesn't seem to pass for you." and gazing at me intently, "Is it some potion that you found on one of your trips? You can tell me, I won't spread it..."

I could only laugh at that. Such a pious and devout man believing in the effectiveness of potions.

"Don't be silly, of course not."

"I'm serious, Ahasver... it's not normal. You are nearly fifty!"

"Forty-eight" I corrected him.

"Well, whatever it is, people will soon start noticing it and commenting."

"What people?"

"Friends, acquaintances, whoever has known you for a while. Actually, Rebecca has made some remarks on it already."

Trust Rebecca to do such, always vain. I was sure that she would certainly appreciate a potion, but, unfortunately, I couldn't help her. We ended with the usual arrangements for the festival. This time I asked Isaac to buy the lamb, I wasn't in the right mood to look for one nor to haggle over pricing.

One or two days after arriving in Jerusalem I received a message from Simeon, the son of Gamaliel, asking me to visit him as soon as I had some free time. Not knowing him personally, I asked Isaac about him.

"Simeon ben Gamaliel? Of course I know him. I am surprised that you don't! He replaced his father as _Nasi_ of the Sanhedrin. Every one knows it."

I knew that Gamaliel had some sons, but I didn't recall their names or faces, and I wasn't, in those days, too aware of who was who in the city. Naturally, I could not refuse his invitation.

In the house that had been Gamaliel's, I was received as an old friend of the family. Simeon looked very much like his father, the same posture, the same vivacious gaze and almost the same tone of voice.

"Master Ahasver, I can see that you don't remember me, but we have met before when you were a member of the Sanhedrin, and I waited on my father."

"I'm sorry, but I really don't recall."

"Well, I believe you, it has been some years. But let me tell you, I would recognize you anywhere. You haven't changed much since then. Amazing!"

"Well, thank you. I have been told that..."

"But you must be curious why I asked for you to call on me, and the reason is very simple. My late father left you a letter. When he fell ill, he soon realized that he would not live for much longer, so he took the time to write a few letters for his dearest friends. When I heard that you were in town, I decided to give it to you personally."

I thanked him again, and our conversation flowed into other subjects, and I even mentioned my recent trip to Alexandria.

"I can easily imagine how gratifying it must have been for you. Alexandria was father's favorite city, I can tell you. He actually considered moving there, if it weren't for those constant riots between the Greeks and the Judaeans. I haven't visited it yet, but I hope to do so someday."

"I certainly hope you will do so, and I am sure you will be well received there," and I added, "I met some Greeks who are most tolerant with our practices and our beliefs, and you do know that they have a Greek version of our Torah?"

"Yes, it is known, the famous Septuagint."

"Yes, and according to them, not so well received by some of our priests and sages."

"Well, there are various opinions regarding it, but in the end I believe that the essence of the Lord's message is the same in any language. Naturally, in Hebrew it is closer to the original, and carries all the subtlety of the sacred language, but I find it preferable that our believers know of it in Greek than not knowing it at all. But as I say, opinions diverge. And on the whole, what say our people over there?"

I could not really elaborate much as I did not recall any commentary of any Judaean that I met over there on that subject.

"Unfortunately I didn't have an opportunity to speak of it to any of our brothers over there. What I heard was from a Greek scholar that I met at the Serapeum."

"You visited the Serapeum? How interesting. A devoted Judaean in one of the great pagan temples of our age" he observed amused.

Ignoring his remark, I continued.

"Well, their position is that we are too rigid and even belligerent in regards to our faith."

"I can imagine that, yes..."

The arrival of a secretary interrupted our conversation, reminding the _Nasi_ that he had another imminent appointment.

"Master Ahasver, it was a pleasure to have seen you again, and I thank you for this most enjoyable conversation. If you remain in Jerusalem after the _pesach_ , I would be very pleased to meet again and continue our conversation. I am most interested in hearing more about Alexandria. Unfortunately, I have to go to the Temple now.

Gamaliel's letter was not extensive, and it clearly was a message from someone who knew that this was a last conversation. He briefly recalled some of our meetings, discussions about faith, about dissidence, on losses and options. He continued to recommend moderation, and to keep the faith with our beliefs, reminding me of the Lord's justness, even when his designs seemed questionable and cruel for us mortals. He ended the note showing his conviction that I would still have important missions to carry out before we met again at the end of days.

It was his last goodbye, eloquent as ever. I would miss him, his cordiality, his open-mindedness and his sagacious advice. Not only I, but all Judaeans.

After our noonday meal, I went to the Temple with Alexander, an exercise of both patience and of physical persistence. The usual crowds filling the same alleys and staircases, made it almost impossible for us to get into the great courtyard. We tried to locate Isaac, who I knew was there somewhere, but it was useless in the midst of that multitude. Only the Romans patrolling the cloisters seemed calm and serene.

Alexander, upon my insistence, had dressed up as any normal devotee, and always curious, wanted to follow me in the various rituals, mimicking prayers and acclamations. I was not too pleased, but at least he did it well and didn't raise any suspicions from those closer to us. He was obviously a devoted adherent to the art of pantomime, and why not, it was one of the classic forms of expression of his people.

On our way out, I recognized some familiar faces among the crowd, but it was useless to try to approach them, much less have any conversation there, and I just waved in recognition and continued with our struggle to leave that area.

As we reached the bottom of the great eastern staircase, we were suddenly flooded by a furious clamor that came down from the Temple. A most disturbing sound echoing through the walls and entrances of the great enclosure.

Immediately, I figured it could only be some disorder in the courtyard, and grabbing Alexander's arm, I pulled him down the remaining stairs and walked as quickly as we could manage towards the lower part of the city. Whatever it was, I had no intention of getting caught in some riot. And the crowds continued to flow around us, some going up to the Temple, mostly driven by curiosity or fervor, and others following our direction. Through the commotion I could understand some words that came down from the Temple... sacrilege... indecency... Romans... heretics... vengeance... and others intoned in this same vein.

Alexander, visibly agitated, asked me if this was usual, all this enthusiasm, but I just ignored him, determined to get out of that street where we could hardly move. Finally we managed to cross the bridge that gave unto the small public square close to the theatre of Herod. The roar and the clangor from the Temple continued to rise, and we could now see the stairways completely jammed with people, loudly complaining in voices that reached us distortedly. Some, having managed to escape the turmoil, joined us and stayed there wondering about all that was happening.

On the opposite side of that square where we stood, was the old Hasmonean palace, for some time occupied by Agrippa during one of his stays in the city. Unused since then, it was now assigned to the Sanhedrin, and guarded by a small garrison of city guards. These, attracted by all the commotion, were now gathered at one of the entrance gates by the side portico, and clearly undecided with what course of action to take. One of the officers came towards us and enquired for further information, but we did not know the reason or the cause for all the upheaval.

Still we could hear the loud and frenetic shouting and the crowds ululating in sympathy.

Alexander, approaching and questioning all that passed by us, soon gathered that there had been some provocation from the Roman soldiers stationed within the Temple, and that the people who had witnessed this had reacted with indignation and vociferous protestations.

If the reaction did not go beyond that clamor, probably the Romans would not act further, or with violence, as they were physically separated from the crowd within the Temple itself. Hopefully, with the coming dusk and the imminent closing of the Temple, the mob would disperse naturally.

In the meantime, the guards that were by the palace gate were called within, and shortly afterwards we saw them marching out towards the Temple and the crowds. Almost simultaneously the bustle seemed to decrease slightly, and as we looked upwards to the main entrances of the Temple, the movement of the crowds in the stairs seemed even more erratic and frantic, now shifting direction downwards towards the lower city.

Suddenly the tone of the clamor changed. It was not just the frantic shouts of indignation but also the howling and screaming of desperation. With horror we now watched the mob, even more compact than before, running down the staircases, a torrent of people trying to escape some foe that was not visible to us. All the clamor had now turned into howls of despair. The crowd, ever more convoluted, collided with itself, forcing its passage between protests and fighting.

I was horrified, imagining the desperation of all who were caught in that blind and wild flux. Even more so when I saw that the mob now hesitated with the direction to take. The explanation was the Romans who had now arrived in large numbers at the bottom of the stairways, climbing and clashing violently against all who stood in their way. It was a massacre. There was nothing human in all that noise, just the cacophony of butchery echoing through the city.

And more Romans arrived.

Some in the upper crowd managed to get back into the Temple, but were soon seen retreating. Something or someone was also within, barring the entrance and forcing them out of the courtyards.

We then began to see the first survivors passing us by, running and inciting us to follow them. Soon enough, I saw the Romans marching in our direction, brandishing short swords and using their shields to push others off their way, and I grabbed Alexander by his arm and started running up the hill towards the mount and home, pursued by the howling that was now slowing fading in the distance.

In that rush, I could not help but to think of Isaac, Rebecca and little Simon, somewhere up there in the Temple.

We later learned, in horrid detail, what had actually happened. An obscene and unnatural act by a crude legionnaire caused one of the deadliest incidents in the city. There was talk of over 3000 dead and maimed, and others mentioned ten times this number. Even one would have been too many.

When we finally reached home, the rioting sounded almost over, and the screams, the shouting and the clamor were now faint murmurs in the distance. Night was falling, and my primary concern was with the family who I knew were at the Temple that afternoon. As soon as I saw the streets almost deserted, I went over to Isaac's house, but they were not back and no one had yet heard from them. Alexander wanted to go and look for them, but I could not allow it. He was under my responsibility, and neither of us had any idea of what was happening in that part of the city. Two of my braver servants offered to go, but they came back with no further information regarding Isaac and family. Tormented by this involuntary inaction, I feverishly searched for anything to do and all through the night we waited for further revelations.

It was known that the uprising had now ended, and the Romans, helped by the city guards, were removing the bodies from the stairways and the streets, and carrying them in carts to the hippodrome, apparently under the direct guidance of the Procurator Ventidius Cumanus and his tribune Celer. The Temple was also firmly shut, and the priests themselves were forced to collect the bodies that had laid in the inner courtyards.

The next day, after a very short and restless sleep, I decided to go search for Isaac, employing all endeavors, even the help of the _Nasi_ Simeon, if necessary. But thankfully, I received word that Isaac and his family had just arrived, safe and unhurt, at his home.

Now calmer, we finished the morning meal and rushed off to Isaac's place. The streets were now deathly quiet, especially for such a period of festival, and the city seemed cloaked under an eerie silence.

"Ahasver, it was a massacre! A true carnage! I've never seen so much blood in my whole life. I think that not even all the thousands of lambs that are usually sacrificed could ever match such bloodshed. There were hundreds of bodies..."

"Thousands..." added Rebecca visibly shaken with the thought.

"Yes... you're probably right. Thousands actually... and when we left they had already removed most of them, but we could see and smell that blood... puddles and pools of blood. Oh Lord ! The horror..."

Isaac and the family were in the women's enclosure when it all happened.

The legionnaire, without reason — and what reason could justify such actions? — climbed the railing of the gallery where they usually stood watching the crowds in the inner courts, and exhibited his private parts, calling on everyone's attention with gross claims and gestures.

In any place, at any moment, and for whatever reason, such gestures would be unacceptable and abhorrent. A soldier, belonging to an oppressive and hated army, doing that in our holiest ground, during one of our most sacred feasts, and in the presence of so many men, women and children, was beyond the most implausible imagination. The outcome could not have been different. To such despicable gestures, verbal insults were proffered from all who saw it, and soon enough, stones were thrown indiscriminately towards the soldiers who stood idly by, amused and sharing their comrade's jocosity.

But when the first legionnaire was struck down by a stone, all the others immediately took refuge, but the clamor did not diminish at all, and they quickly exited the cloisters. Soon enough other soldiers returned, this time with shields, while others entered the Temple grounds from the direction of the Antonia fortress with the purpose of scattering the masses, and they were equally received by another barrage of rocks. Unfortunately, stones were aplenty in that Temple, always undergoing reforms and other construction jobs.

Isaac, according to him, undecided as to the wisest course to take, took refuge in a corner of the women's court, and familiar with most of the priests, was given refuge in a chamber where they locked themselves. They were lucky. Almost everyone who had been in those same courts were either killed, wounded, or violently expelled — men, women, children and even some of the more unfortunate priests. The Romans, once more, proved themselves insensitive to the plight of the people.

When I returned home at the end of that morning, there were more people and movement in the streets, morbid, silent, almost funereal, with the few who spoke doing it lowly, and all wearing black. It looked as if the city had been invaded by giant silent crows, aimlessly drifting downhill towards the hippodrome.

In an edict, proclaimed that same day in the main squares and streets of the city, the Procurator forbade any type of gathering, promising severe punishment against any and all who instigated any kind of sedition and violence. In another, he announced the reopening of the Temple, with controlled and limited access, patrolled by legionnaires stationed at the entrances and spread amongst the faithful in the outer courts. Nothing was mentioned in regard to the previous day's barbarism. I had no doubt that that day would be well remembered by all, and that the Zealots would most certainly retaliate violently against the Romans for what they had done.

With all that had happened, the question now was if in the next day, the day of sacrifices, it would be prudent to observe the rituals. Isaac would not even consider not attending, but I had some doubts. But I was persuaded to go, more in solidarity for his determination, than by my own convictions. The Temple was not as crowded as usual, and all who attended were subdued and mournful, fulfilling the rites under the bored and vigilant gaze of the many legionnaires present.

All the attention and the heartfelt devotion of those days took place in the hippodrome, where bodies were identified and taken for burial by friends and family. Unfortunately, with so many pilgrims from out of town, most were buried by the guards in large ditches excavated for this purpose outside the city walls.

Yes, one day we would retaliate, one could hear it whispered in the streets.

I have no doubt that it was on those days that the seeds of retribution were planted that would lead to the future destruction of so many lives.

The next few days were still days of mourning, and although we, as a people, were not given to profound manifestations of sorrow, the horror and the dismay were patent in every face. At the end of the festival, right after _pesach_ , the city seemed abandoned, and even the Temple, according to Isaac, was almost deserted. Taking advantage of such an exodus, I began with my preparations to return home. I sent a message to the _Nasi_ Simeon announcing my departure and inviting him to visit us in Caesarea. I later learned that some of his relatives had perished in the incident. I am sure that if Ruth had been there, she would have claimed to have been a miracle that none of us, or any in the family had been hurt in the commotion.

But, that same year yet reserved us some further unpleasant surprises.

First there was an incident involving the assault and robbery of Roman citizens on the road to Jerusalem.

When the Procurator heard of this, he immediately sent some soldiers to locate the assailants. After searching various villages and hamlets, frustrated by not finding any evidence of the robbers or the loot, the soldiers themselves took to raid some of the wealthier homes, and during one of these robberies one soldier set fire to a Torah.

Immediately, a delegation was formed and sent to Caesarea to demand justice and the appropriate punishment of the perpetrators. Cumanus, who had been in Judaea for some time, knew too well how the Judaeans reacted to such affronts, and he did not hesitate in finding and executing the responsible legionnaire. For some days, Cumanus was a popular man, but no one had forgotten his involvement with the killings in Jerusalem.

The second incident happened shortly after, when a Galilean pilgrim, on his way to Jerusalem for the festival of the Tabernacles, was killed on the road by Samaritans, apparently for no known reason.

This time, most of Galilee rose up in revolt, and although some had asked the Procurator to intervene, he preferred not to attend such a call. Only when alerted by the Sanhedrin, where news of the revolt interrupted the festivities, did he decide to act.

But it was too late. Although he captured and punished some of the responsible parties for the mutiny, the Samaritans had also appealed to Gaius Quadratus, the Governor of Syria, and he did not hesitate to come down to Galilee and crucified the main instigators, both Samaritans and Galileans. As he came to realize the seriousness of the situation, Quadratus dispatched the Procurator Cumanus, his tribune Celer, the High Priest Ananias and some other Samaritan and Galilean leaders to Rome for a hearing before the Emperor.

In conclusion, Claudius decided to punish the Samaritans and banished Cumanus. The entourage of Ananias returned to Jerusalem, with the tribune Celer, who was executed in the city by his own peers.

The news of the replacement of Cumanus by Marcus Antonius Felix, brother of the secretary of the Emperor, was jubilantly received by all, and a lot was expected of the new Procurator. Descendant from former Greek slaves, from a family of freedmen, Felix could only be more tolerant and just than his predecessor.

THE DILIGENT

Year 52

Home once again, I still had the case of Joseph's funeral to settle and fulfill the dispositions of his legacy, but for this, I had to wait for further information from Saul, who arrived in Caesarea with a few of his Nazarene brothers. I was not too pleased to receive them, and I demonstrated it. For me, more than anything else, they were the reason for my failed marriage and for Ruth's conversion to that heretical sect of theirs.

"Ahasver, I received your letter where you mentioned your intention to inter our brother Joseph in his tomb in Jerusalem."

"Yes, Saul. As you know I've been waiting for an answer from you for almost a year now."

"I understand, but I only recently received your letter. We were away in a mission to evangelize the people of Asia and Greece. We have just come from Ephesus."

"What is that, evangelize?" I hadn't heard such a term before, how creative were these Nazarenes !

"An ancient Greek word that we use to describe our missions of spreading the words of the Christ to the Gentiles."

"You mean, preaching?"

"Yes, one can call it that too."

Always learning...

"So, when can I start with the preparations for the interment of Joseph in Jerusalem?"

"Ahasver, I must admit that I have not yet had the opportunity to discuss this issue with my brethren in Jerusalem. But as I mentioned before, I think it will be difficult to do as you wish."

"Saul, it is not my wish. It is Joseph's. It is the right thing, and the most commendable thing to do for him. I do not want him buried in some sepulcher in Tyre. I'm sure you agree with me on this."

"Ahasver, his body is an empty vessel now that his soul is with our Christ."

"I do not wish to enter into a theological discussion with you right now," wondering if he knew the word, "there wasn't much I could do for him when he was alive. He was a father to me, and the least a devoted son can do is to fulfill his last wishes and forever remember him in my prayers."

Saul was obviously divided in regards to this issue, and I did not want to bring up the bequest unless it was absolutely essential to carry out my plan. But Saul hadn't forgotten.

"Ahasver, we also have to deal with the testament and Joseph's dispositions. You have the monies that are due to us and you know that it is illegal to retain them."

"You are partly right on that, but it won't be the law who will stop me from doing what I believe to be morally just."

"Ahasver, you will challenge the law and Joseph's will because of this?"

"I'll challenge the whole lot of you, if necessary. May I remind you that I am the executor of Joseph's will and it is within my purview how and when to distribute the values to your congregations?"

"Yes, we are aware of that, of course."

"Well then, let me ask you, who represents these congregations? How and to whom do I deliver the amount that was left by Joseph to Caesarea? Who is the legal head of your group in Tiberias? There's another thing. I wonder if the Romans, not to mention the Judaean councils, recognize your groupings as legal entities?"

"Ahasver, we do not have a formal hierarchy in our congregations. Our leaders are acclaimed and chosen by the brothers. The leadership is something natural and divine, it happens through the will of the Spirit."

"I'm sorry, but that doesn't answer my question at all. How do I know who is the right person? Just by asking around? Will I have to search for such a one in all of these cities? Do you know? Is there someone who knows?"

"I believe it would be easier for all, if you handed the whole inheritance to James in Jerusalem. That way you wouldn't have to trouble yourself and the money would be distributed by ourselves to everyone."

"To do that I would have to trust this James, whom I have never met. And there's something else too, Joseph asked me to do this personally."

"I understand, Ahasver. I only suggested it because it would be simpler and easier course for you too."

In conclusion, nothing was agreed at that point, and some days later Saul departed for Jerusalem, assuring me that he wouldn't take long in returning with a mutually acceptable solution.

I also knew that he visited Ruth. She came to see me, asking me to be more lenient with the question of Joseph's burial.

"Ahasver, no one is against the burial of Joseph in Jerusalem."

"Yes, they just don't want it to be in that tomb that is now sacred to you."

"Ahasver!"

"Yes?"

"Think like this... would you think it just to bury anyone in King David's tomb?"

"Actually, I think there are a few buried there, family, as far as I know."

"There you have it. No one would place a stranger in there."

Holy patience ! "Woman aren't you people always speaking of Yeshua as a brother?"

"Yes?" now eyeing me suspiciously.

"Now then.. Joseph is part of the family too. Actually, you are all brothers, you can all be buried there. And do tell me, is that tomb empty or not?"

"Ahasver, you are mocking my faith" and without further, she stood up and left.

And there were some who called me intolerant !

Notwithstanding the position of the Nazarenes, I had made up my mind to start immediately with the transportation of Joseph's body. I could not bear the thought of him abandoned in some hole in the middle of nowhere. I owed him that and much more. If the Nazarenes continued to resist for much longer, I would bury him in some other sepulcher in Jerusalem.

I also knew that moving a corpse would be a complicated business, and I wondered if there was a need for some special disposition or permission from the Romans or from the Temple authorities. I decided to write to Simeon, the son of Gamaliel, and ask for his advice.

He promptly answered, sending me a message brought by a young priest, named Isaiah, who informed me that he had been chosen to accompany and help me with the transport. Simeon recommended that the best way to do this was by sea. Not only would it be faster, but I would also avoid the legal issues when crossing territories under different laws and entangled bureaucracies.

In the end, I sent Alexander, the young priest, and some servants to Tyre, on a small ship that I chartered for this purpose. And on the night of their leaving, I was relieved and slept the sleep of the appeased.

Within a few days, Saul was back from Jerusalem, and this time he came alone. He brought with him the brotherhood's approval for the usage of Joseph's tomb — which at the time I thought it highly presumptions, as they had never had any right to it. He seemed pleased with the decision and was now concerned with the question of the endowment and its distribution.

The difficulty I had encountered in Arimathea to find the right Nazarene, was not a fortuitous omen for my mission. It wasn't difficult to find Nazarenes, but I would always remain in doubt if the one found would be the rightful receiver.

Saul was now waiting patiently for my decision, but I was still unsure of what to do. I decided to be clear with him on this, explaining my dilemma and asking for a few more days to make up my mind. In the end, the issue was one of trust, and unsatisfied with my conclusion, I opted to take the task into my own hands.

It seemed to me that Joseph, although affiliated with them for many years, did not trust the Nazarenes in this issue. Naturally, the simpler and easier solution would have been to give them all the money and let them distribute it among themselves, but I was determined to fulfill the last wishes of my dearest friend and mentor.

It was now clear to me what I had to do. I would go to Jerusalem with the corpse and provide for a proper burial, and in that same trip I would give them the money that Joseph had left to the congregation there. I would then travel on my own to the other cities and distribute the remainder of the bequest.

I believe that Saul was already expecting such a decision. He didn't show much surprise or discord when I told him. So we agreed to meet again in Jerusalem for the entombment of Joseph.

When they returned from Tyre, Alexander and Isaiah with Joseph's corpse, I had almost everything ready to leave. I had even hired a small group of former city guards who were used to escort caravans and travelers.

Much against Alexander's will, I did not want him to come with me on this journey. The company that I had gathered was large enough, and more would only draw unwanted attention from bandits and assailants that still roamed the more deserted roads of the province. Also, I wanted him to continue with his apprenticeship under his father, already interrupted with his trip to Tyre.

Isaiah, the priest sent by Simeon, accompanied me to Jerusalem, where I dismissed him. I didn't want him to participate in the burial, as I suspected that the Nazarenes would want to be present when the time came for the burial.

On the day after my arrival, I went to look for Joseph's tomb, together with some masons and servants. I had to see if there was any work to be done on it, and also provide for the materials and the necessary preparations for its definitive closure.

It wasn't difficult to find it, although it had been more than twenty years since I had last been in that area, and I found around the site a small almost silent crowd. What at the time had been a pedestrian path, was now a large clearing, and on the slope of that small hill numerous paintings and phrases were sketched and carved on the rocks.

The tomb itself was without a door, and appeared to be empty of people. Some of the more devout were kneeling by the entrance and timidly looking into its interior, faintly illuminated by the fluttering light of what appeared to be oil lamps and candles.

Both I and my companions were surprised with the unexpected multitude and the eerie silence that enveloped that all area.

I had never expected that the tomb would attract so much attention, and perplexed, I began to realize of the impossibility of my task. I could see no way around it, as all those devotees would never allow the tomb to be used by its rightful owner. I could see now why the Nazarenes had so quickly agreed to my demands. I had been deceived.

Disappointed, I even tried unsuccessfully to find the other tomb, and in the end I returned home.

Without an alternative, I began to search for another tomb, and with the help of Isaac we were fortunate to find one available. and finally fulfill the very last wish of the man who had been almost a father to me. It was not the place that he would have wanted, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances. Outraged as I was, only Isaac and I were present at that final moment. I didn't want any Nazarene or any other priest to attend to it. I wanted him to be left alone and to rest forever in peace.

After that, I returned to the tomb that had been used by Yeshua and told one of the Nazarenes there to tell Saul that I was in the city, and I would be waiting for him to call on me.

This time Saul came with two of his brothers. Simeon, whom I had met many years before, and another who looked as if he had just arrived from a very long and arduous journey, not only because of the decrepitude of his attire, but also of the squalidness of his body and an overall appearance of exhaustion. His name was James, a brother of Yeshua and the leader of the Nazarenes — apparently he was really a blood brother of the prophet, but as far as I could recall, he didn't look much like his more distinguished relative.

Saul and Simeon greeted me with the familiarity of two long acquainted friends, and James, holding both my hands, mumbled the customary courtesies of someone who had just been introduced.

I asked them in, and we all sat in the _atrium_. As we laid there, I noticed how Simeon kept on looking fixedly at me, and at last he confessed his admiration with the way I looked, something unexpected from someone with whom I had little familiarity. Now turning his attention to James, he explained that we had met before in that same house, and that I had seen their messiah on his very last day among them, and even exchanged a few words with their liberator.

Apparently this was old news to James, but feigning some interest he enquired.

"May we know what was said by the Messiah?" in a tone of voice as thin as his body.

"Master James," I replied lying with due deference, "it has been too long, we were amidst the crowd, too much turmoil. I regret that I cannot recall anymore what was said, but it was the briefest of exchanges, I assure you."

"But I do know. Joseph retold the incident a few years ago" exclaimed Saul.

"And what was it?" insisted a more curious Simeon.

"For some time, both Joseph and I were intrigued with the meaning of those words. But the last we were all together in Caesarea, Joseph came up with the possibility that Ahasver had been blessed with a miracle."

Suddenly, they all stared at me. I returned a gaze of deep disdain to Saul, but he went on.

"Yes... " looking both at James and Simeon, "Ahasver is the living proof of the divinity and power of our Messiah Yeshua. To him was granted the grace of longevity and continued youth. That is what Yeshua told you that day, wasn't it, Ahasver?"

"A miracle... ?!" muttered James, visibly distressed.

Simeon just gaped. Saul maintained his gaze, studying me.

I kept my pose, and since none reacted, I said. "Saul, that must be the greatest piece of trifle that I have ever heard, and let me tell you that I have had some experience..."

Still the silence continued, so I added. "And incongruent ! Everyone knows that I don't believe in your messiah and even less in miracles."

It was absurd. Truly.

"Maybe it is, Ahasver," continued Saul, "time will tell... well, no... time will reveal it!"

Of all of them, Saul was the more serene one. The others continued stunned and speechless with this revelation. It was Simeon, apparently regaining his wits, that asked Saul.

"Are you saying that Ahasver is not growing old at all?"

"Isn't it obvious, Simeon? You met him even before I did. And tell us, has he changed? Has his appearance changed since then? How many years ago was it?"

"It was in the year of His resurrection."

"Twenty years! In twenty years the man hasn't changed at all. Is that normal...?"

"It is remarkable, I grant you that," answered James, "but it can happen, Saul. We all mature at a different pace."

But Saul was relentless.

"Brother, the normal thing is a for a man to show his age. We have all grown old, some more than others," obviously referring to James, "you have had to carry a very heavy burden in all these years since our Messiah left us. But this man..."

I had had enough. I was now been dissected as if I wasn't even there.

"Gentlemen!" I abruptly interrupted Saul, "I am beginning to resent this whole conversation. It is absurd and ridiculous. We all know how much you enjoy extolling the miraculous powers of your messiah, but I will not have it. I won't have my name mixed with your credulous claims. You already have enough miracles as it is."

Clearly Saul wanted to answer me, but James intervened.

"I apologize, Master Ahasver, you are absolutely right, and our purpose here today is to deal with Joseph's bequest. Please forgive us if we have trespassed on your hospitality."

Dismissing the incident, I went on.

"As I'm sure that Saul mentioned to you, my initial intention was to inter Joseph in his tomb, but, unfortunately, your followers have taken it over, and by the way they behave, I soon realized that it wasn't possible to do it. so I had to find another location where he is now at rest.

"You shouldn't have done it with consulting us" scolded Saul.

Since I didn't even look at him or remark on his commentary, he continued. "And where is this sepulcher?"

"Not far from the other" I answered dismissively.

"We would like to know the location, Master Ahasver" said James.

"That I won't tell you" I answered peremptorily.

"What... ?" gasped Saul, "Why not?"

Once again ignoring him, I continued.

"Shall we go on?" I enquired of them.

"Please" said James resignedly.

"Now," I hurriedly continued wanting to quickly conclude that long conversation, "I have with me the full amount granted to Jerusalem. I can have it delivered to you, or you can send someone to collect it here at the house. And, by the way, I have also included the amount due to the congregation of Bethany.

It was there agreed that in the next few days someone would come by the house.

"The other matter at hand is in regard to the distribution of the remainder of the bequest to the other cities, namely Caesarea, Tiberias, Jericho and Jaffa. As I mentioned to Saul, I will personally deliver these values as per Joseph's wish. I will need from you the name of the person in each of these cities to whom I should give the money to."

Simeon took on himself the task of drawing this list, and there we ended our meeting.

At the end, as they were leaving, I pulled Saul apart.

"Saul, I would very much appreciate if I didn't hear anymore about this so called miracle. Are we agreed?"

"Ahasver rest assured it will be as you wish. Actually and to be quite frank, I think I exaggerated."

"I believe so too" I answered more relieved, but he went on.

"Maybe it was not a blessing" and in that angry, vague and flat tone he joined the others.

It was to be our last conversation.

As soon as I had in my hands the list of Nazarenes drawn up by Simeon, I left Jerusalem with the guards I had hired in Caesarea and a few servants, and headed for Jericho, a short trip of about a day. In Jericho, a very old city and partially ruined, I had no difficulty in finding Thadeus, a most devoted young man who insisted in converting me once he knew that I was not one of his brothers. Unsuccessful with his endeavor, he still tried his luck with some of my accompanying staff.

From Jericho, where we stayed for just one night, we took a northwards route, following the course of the river Jordan, through decrepit and inhospitable roads. Meandering through valleys and hillocks, we passed small towns and hamlets, where it was quite evident the damages caused by the drought of the previous year — emaciated youths, squalid animals, yellowed fields of soil and weed, flocks of one or two skeletal animals and houses rapidly dissolving into the beige earth. An all too obvious squalor, vividly contrasting with the exuberance of nature of that placid river, indifferent to human vicissitudes.

Not finding any dwellings on our way, we made camp by the river margin, lulled by the soft murmurs of passing waters and the shrieking crickets. In that night, under a dome of stars nailed in ethereal clouds of milky clarity, I pondered on the words of Saul.

It was too absurd to take his story seriously. But there was an inescapable fact, my own self! As much as I wanted to ignore reality, the bizarre stared at me when I saw myself mirrored in some polished surface or even in the liquid reflection of a cup.

Could it really be happening? But just the doubt was too implausible to contemplate.

It was known that prophets and other holy men had lived for hundreds of years. It was written. It was undeniable, but all that belonged to former eras, and always in accordance with some plan of the Lord. Nothing to do with me. Or could I be part of some divine design? Something that I would have to do in the future? It was ludicrous. It was absurd. How I used and abused that adjective that night.

Harassed by heavy rains that came at us from all directions, we continued the next day our journey towards Tiberias, and by the middle of the afternoon, with the sun now reflecting on its placid waters, we came to that sea of Galilee and soon passed under the city gates on our way to the local emporium.

Tiberias was a city that I knew reasonably well, and once more under Roman rule, it had grown prosperous after several years of drought and a deathly famine that had scorched the countryside. Mostly because of its location, it was now a bustling trading town, offering articles from various regions, especially from Damascus, and this wealth was visible in the people, the housing and in the large markets where a wide variety of goods and merchandise were available. Relatively new and built under the patronage of the Herodians, it reminded me of my Caesarea, but without the salty and fresh breeze from the sea. On the contrary, it was oppressively hot.

The emporium was located close to the fishermen's port, a discrete brick building where we stored grains from the south and wines from the north. Adjacent was the house of my overseer, Ammon, an old friend and a former employee of Joseph that I had retained, and where we would be lodging.

As expected, our initial talks were about Joseph. Ammon wanted to know more about his death, although I had previously informed him by letter of what had happened. I couldn't add much more to satisfy his morbid curiosity, so I just told him about the burial and of his bequest.

"Ammon, were you aware that Joseph had joined a new sect?"

"The Messianics? Yes, I knew. He told me all about it the last time I saw him in Jerusalem. They were here also, not too long ago."

"Here in the emporium? What did they want?"

"To convert me to their faith" he said grinning.

"With no success?" I jested.

"I'm too old to think of new gods, or rather, divine messiahs... honestly, I didn't even understand what they preach."

"Well, Joseph left some money for them..."

"Why didn't you let me know. I could have handled it here, there was no need for you to come all this way. You do know that the roads are not too safe these days."

"Yes, I guess I could have asked you, but I opted to do it myself. Joseph asked me to."

"I understand," he said, "if you want, Ahasver, I can send a boy to bring them here. They are always around, preaching, arguing..."

"I have a name. Philip."

"I don't think I know him. But tomorrow I will make some enquiries. We'll find him, they have a house by the shore."

"They have a temple here in the city?"

"So they call it. Not sure if it's a real temple. But they gather there."

"The _Kohanim_ leave them in peace then."

"Well, after the death of Agrippa they started to claim that it was a divine punishment because the King had ordered the execution of some of their brethren."

"Yes, I heard about that too."

"But when a few of them were stoned, they left the city for a while."

"Some were killed?"

"No, no. A few rocks were thrown at them, that's all. But they soon returned, anyway. Usually people ignore them, and they only bother those who are foolish enough to pay them any attention. Just like the Essenes that used to come into the city."

"They are gone, the Essenes?"

"We haven't seen them for some time. After that rebellion of Theudas and the incidents with the Samaritans, it seems they have gone south towards the Dead Sea."

"I never met an Essene."

"Just sad blasphemers, Ahasver. They didn't finish them off yet because they are too insignificant to bother. They live in these impoverished communities, and most end up as mendicants and beggars. I remember, during the time the city was under construction, of finding many of them laying about the streets, too weak to stand. Many died in those days..."

"And the drought of the last years? Was it very difficult here?"

"Yes, very. Most of the villages around here were abandoned, and most of those people came into the city until the Romans intervened. They started to close the city gates, and many were expelled. It was horrible. A lot of robberies too. They even tried here, but with no success I can tell you. Is it a lot of money, Ahasver?"

"What?"

"The money left to them by Joseph."

"About three thousand _shekels_."

"It is a lot! I wonder what they will do with all that money..."

"How do they live now? They work for a living?" I asked.

"I don't really know, Ahasver, but I think so, at least some of them, but just as the Essenes, they also divide everything amongst themselves."

"So their followers don't contribute with some stipend?"

"I couldn't say. They are very poor, that is known."

"Let's hope that all this money won't corrupt them."

"Unlikely, in the end it always does."

Since I did not wish to prolong my stay in the city, having yet to go south to Jaffa, I asked Ammon to find this Philip urgently, and on the following afternoon, one of the servants arrived with two Nazarenes.

Philip greeted us suspiciously, not knowing the reason for his calling, but soon calmed himself when I mentioned Joseph and that his name had been given to me by Simeon of Jerusalem.

"Master Ahasver, I met brother Joseph once — may the Lord, and the Messiah retain him in everlasting peace — in Jerusalem."

"Some time ago then."

"Yes it was. I was one of the first to be baptized, about the same time that he was too. I was once a scribe at the Temple, and then Cephas and James asked me to write about the life and of the messages of the Messiah, so that His word could be spread to all the tribes of the world."

"After that you came to Tiberias?" I enquired disinterested.

"Yes, indeed. I came to found the congregation and continue with the missionary work in the region, originally undertaken by the Messiah himself."

I wondered if this was the author of the manuscript that Joseph had sent me. I actually thought of telling him that his work was now at one of the most celebrated libraries in the world, but I desisted. Such news would undoubtedly convert a few more, and would even be proclaimed as a miracle. So I just mentioned the purpose of my visit to Tiberias.

"A miracle!" he soon announced "A true miracle by the grace of the Lord."

"Joseph, you mean."

"Through the intercession of the Lord, Master Ahasver" he patiently explained.

"The will of Joseph and some effort on my part" I added morosely.

"All in accordance with the Lord's will. Even your presence here, Master Ahasver, is by the design and under the protection of the Messiah."

Ammon, who was with us, smiled benignantly and looked at me with the condescendence of someone who had quickly grasped how much it bothered me such pietistic eruptions.

"Well, whatever," I capitulated, "I do hope you will use it wisely."

"It will all be done according to the divine will and purpose of the Lord."

Fulfilled my mission, I quickly dispatched him before he tried to convince me that my conversion was also within the will and design of his messiah. Later that afternoon I went to temple, desirous of some good sense and rationality.

Before I left the city, I visited some of the newer buildings in the _acropolis_ , but I didn't find much activity nor any festival or lecture announced. After all, it wasn't a very cultural city, and the Roman and Greek populations were a minority and rarely seen. And I left on the following day.

This time our path took us south towards mount Tabor and the city of Nazareth, where apparently the prophet Yeshua had been born, or had lived there for some time. Actually, little was known of his origins, and I was even surprised that Joseph had not bequeathed anything to that town.

Nazareth was a poorly poor city, set amongst hillocks and where everyone seemed to be a Messianic, given their colorless attire and shabby appearance. Here the drought had ravaged the countryside, and the large valley that could be seen from the town, looked more like a desert, with some erratic patches of greenery disclosing a late harvest. Certainly, as they would say, all in accordance with the will and design of the messiah too.

In the next day, after a night lodged at a farm close to Meggido, we came to the Via Maris, now only a few hours from Caesarea, and gazing at the immensity of that luxuriant valley, the infinite blue of the sea and that horizon filled with puffs of erratic cottony clouds, I decided to go home, leaving the trip to Jaffa for a later date.

I was tired.

Every return home, after a longish absence, was always for me a blessing, a true gift. To see familiar faces, to feel the smells and the sounds of each day, to hear the same news and listen to repeated gossip. It was there that I belonged, my place in this world.

But I had not forgotten my duties, and now in Caesarea I would hand over the legacy of Joseph to the local Nazarenes, and for this the ideal solution was to employ Ruth to find Zacheus, the man indicated by Simeon.

Our reunion, much similar to other recent ones, was quite stoic and reserved, as with each time we met the more apart we grew.

After enquiring about my travels and the habitual trivialities, Ruth agreed to send for Zacheus, and she also mentioned Saul, who had called on her before he left Caesarea.

"He told me all about your conversation in Jerusalem."

I was not surprised. I assumed she was referring to the question of my miraculous gift.

"Saul not only has a most vivid and fertile imagination, but also believes he has the right to disturb others with his reveries."

"Ahasver, look at you!"

"Ruth... and don't I? Do you really believe this nonsense that I was blessed with a miracle from a messiah in whom I have no faith whatever? You know, it's not even absurd now, it's infantile!"

"Ahasver, I have been thinking, you know."

"Yes?"

"Do you remember how we used to live? How it was? Your work, our daily struggles, all the help and assistance from your father, the loans from your brother..."

"Of course I do. Every day I give thanks for the generosity and the friendship of Joseph. Why? Did you really believe that I had forgotten? You think that I don't know how much we owe to that man? What do you think this trip was all about?"

"I know you do, Ahasver, you have always done everything you could for him. I know it, and he knew it too. I'm not doubting that at all, but listen... do you recall when it all began?"

"Yes, of course. I don't suffer from memory lapses."

"Then you do recall that it all began at the same time that the Messiah came to Jerusalem..."

"More or less, and...?"

"You went with Joseph to the tomb, you witnessed His resurrection..."

"No! I've never said that. Don't you start and make up things that never were there."

"I'm simply saying that all happened at the same time. In a few days, you went from a small shopkeeper to a very wealthy tradesman."

"Not a few days and not so wealthy at the beginning. I think that you are the one with memory issues. So, what do you conclude? That all this was by the divine intervention of your messiah too? Another miracle? Is that your thought or Saul's?"

"No, it's what I think."

"Well, frankly, you should think more on it, a lot more."

"So you believe that all that happened was just coincidence?"

"It's either that or believe in miracles" I pointed out sharply.

"I do believe..."

"Ruth..."

"I believe!" now more emphatic, staring at me with those olive eyes where I had seen myself reflected so many times.

"Ruth, I've told you once, and I'll repeat it again. I cannot command your feelings and beliefs, as idiotic as they are to me. I accepted your conversion, and it was difficult, believe me. I knew then that I had lost you, not to another man, but to a dead man and his creed."

"Ahasver, you expelled me from my home."

"Yes, I did. Imagine if we were living together still. I've been here for a few minutes, and we're already arguing once more. Do you call that living? I took the right option, I've no doubts whatsoever."

"Maybe you are right," she admitted meekly, "and don't think I am ungrateful..."

"I simply did what I could do, you didn't give me any other option."

"You did more, you gave me freedom to follow my faith, and I'll never forget it. That is why I worry about you. I worry when you leave on your journeys, when I know that you are all alone in that house."

"You know perfectly well that I'm not alone, there are at least ten people in the house" I said it smiling, trying to soothe the conversation.

"You know what I mean. And I know that you are discreet."

What was this now?

"You do know what I mean, Ahasver?"

"Yes" Greek goddesses, I imagined.

"Well, never mind that. You probably think that it's all my fault anyway. I do know that men have needs, especially young and robust men like you."

"We are back to our initial talk about my age?"

"We are back to reality, Ahasver. It's in you."

It was a vicious circle. Impossible to fight such convictions. For her, reality was doubly true, visible in me and confirmed by her credulity in a miracle that had brought fortune and youth to me. Or was it two miracles now?

"Ahasver, you have been truly blessed..."

Under that blessing I quickly departed, too irritated to fight irrationality.

I returned home cursing against Saul, Ruth, and even myself for realizing how important I still considered her opinions, and firmly determined to end once and for all my ties with the Nazarenes. I couldn't imagine ever again having anything to do with them, once I finished with Joseph's bequest, and I shouted for Alexander, demanding that he once more went out and searched for Zacheus.

But it was useless. He wasn't in the city, and I didn't want to give the money to some other Nazarene. Without an option, I looked for a ship to take me to Jaffa. I didn't want to go by road.

This time I took Alexander with me, just the two of us, without servants and guards. I expected the trip to be quick and uneventful.

But it didn't quite well happen that way.

A storm hit us on our journey, and the ship ran aground on the sandbank of a small rivulet, a deserted area with no signs of human presence. After a careful inspection, no apparent damage was done to the hull, and all we could do was to wait for the rising tide. It was an adventure, and we had been lucky too. A few more leagues southwards we could see the cliffs and rocky bluffs that spread towards Jaffa. It turned out to be a miracle too, so claimed some of the sailors, obviously Nazarenes.

"Alexander," I remarked as we sat on that warm sand with our feet dangling on the water, "it's like a tide..."

"Where, Ahasver?" he questioned me brusquely.

Smiling, I calmed him down.

"No, Alexander, I haven't seen a tide rolling in. I'm saying that these Messianics are beginning to be like a tide."

"Why? That's a strange remark."

"Have you ever seen a tide?"

"Yes, every day there are tides."

"But have you ever seen it coming?"

"Yes I have, I mean, one sees it, little by little, the sea rising..."

"Exactly, stealthily it comes in..."

"Yes, of course, not wavy-like," he confirmed, "it's almost unnoticeable."

"Well, there you have it, just like the Messianics. Little by little they come, they grow, they invade..."

"I understand, Ahasver, but tides also recede."

"Yes, it's true. But if they are strong they leave chaos, and ruins behind."

"Well, let us then hope that the Messianics are a weak tide, don't we?" he remarked amused with that demonstration of his wit.

By nightfall, the tide finally came in and gradually we managed to push the ship once again into deeper waters. From there onwards, with the help of the oars and the weak current of the stream, we finally placed the ship at a sufficient distance to turn it southward and raise the main sail. And by early morning we were before the port of Jaffa where we quickly disembarked on a lateral quay, at that time still empty of workers. Our immediate destination was the emporium, close to the central market where we glimpsed the early merchants setting up their wares for the day's business.

Too tired for anything else, after that restless night, we slumbered until the early afternoon when I asked Hevel, the local overseer, to send someone to find a Nazarene by the name of Timon.

After waiting for two days, Hevel brought us the information that the Nazarene had been killed on the day before our arrival by a violent mob in an alley close to one of the Judaean temples. According to his informer, this Timon had already been warned several times not to spread his heretical ideas in that area, but ignoring the warning, the local Zealots had lynched him and had thrown the body into the ocean.

"But," I asked, "are you sure this is the same Timon? It is a common name."

"Yes, Master Ahasver. When they attacked him, he was with another brother and that one managed to escape. He confirmed to a friend of mine that the victim was Timon."

"Do you know who is this other Messianic, the one who escaped?"

"Yes, I do know the brother."

Something strange there. Hevel kept mentioning brothers, not Messianics or Nazarenes.

"Hevel, are you a Messianic?"

"No, no" he blurted emphatically.

"You don't need to hide, you know. I'm not a Zealot and no one here has forgotten that our dearest Joseph was a Messianic."

"You can talk freely, Hevel" encouraged Alexander.

"Very well," he replied dully, "I admit that I am, Master Ahasver. But I only converted because I witnessed a miracle, until then I had never believed in them. A true miracle, I assure you."

"Another miracle? What kind of miracle was this?" I asked.

"A cure, Master Ahasver. A real miracle, I assure you."

"Tell us about it, Hevel" asked Alexander.

"Yes, Hevel, do tell us all about it. Alexander loves to hear about miracles" I said winking to Alexander.

"Well, some time ago I received a letter from Antioch from Master Joseph. At the time, the emporium still belonged to him."

"Yes, go on."

"In this letter, Master Joseph asked me to give two hundred _shekels_ to a man here in the city."

"To this Timon?" I asked.

"No, Master Ahasver, to Ephraim. That was his name."

"But you never mentioned this before, Hevel. Wasn't I in charge at the time?"

"No, Master Ahasver, I didn't. Master Joseph asked me not to mention it to anyone."

"And how did you manage to take such a sum without my knowledge? As far as I know, your accounts were always correct."

"Master Joseph always kept some reserve money here at the emporium. For an emergency or to pay off a Publican, that sort of thing. That was the money I used."

"I didn't know that. Where is this reserve? Is there still some money left?"

"No, Master Ahasver. The reserve was always kept at two hundred _shekels_."

"I hope you are telling me the truth, Hevel."

"Of course, Master Ahasver, it is the absolute truth."

I had my doubts, but what could I do? It was not all that different from what I had done in Jerusalem. But then I was in charge!

"All right, and what happened after you gave the money to this Ephraim?"

"Master Ahasver, Ephraim was a most learned man, he had once been a priest of the temple."

"Yes, but the miracle?" asked Alexander restless with the round-about story.

"We all knew Ephraim. He had been one of our most devoted priests, and when he converted, many followed him."

"Well, not so devoted then..." I muttered.

"Devoted to the Lord, not to the temple, as he used to explain. As I was saying, Ephraim used to preach almost every day, in a small square near the public baths, and there was always a large crowd listening to him. After I handed him the money he started to distribute it to some of that people."

"He was giving away the money you had given him?"

"Yes, Master Ahasver, he would give a coin or two to some of the poorer folk."

"And then?"

"Well, when this became known even more people came to hear him."

"I can imagine. Did you used to go and hear him at that time?"

"Once or twice, but there was always too many people and I often desisted."

"And the miracle, Hevel?" insisted Alexander.

"The miracle happened on a day when there weren't so many people there. Ephraim had run out of money by then. But there were still quite a number of listeners. Among the crowd there was a women holding a small child on her lap, we could see that she was very sick, very pale and thin, either sleeping or unconscious. The woman approached Ephraim and started to speak with him. Obviously I couldn't hear what they were saying, and then the woman lowered the child and laid her on the floor. Ephraim picked the child's arm, placed his other hand on her face, and closing his eyes he intoned a prayer, asking the Messiah to cure her ailment."

"And then?"

"The crowd went almost silent, and after he finished his prayer, Ephraim asked the woman to lift the child."

"The child was cured?" asked Alexander.

"The child wasn't moving. But when the mother bent down to lift her, she suddenly rose by herself to the amazement and wonder of us all, especially the mother who immediately began to shout that it was a miracle."

"This was the miracle?" I asked.

"Yes, Master Ahasver, undoubtedly. This child had not stirred for years, she was crippled in body and mind. She almost couldn't speak, couldn't move, and suddenly, after that prayer she stood up by herself!"

"And this is what led to your conversion."

"But of course, Master Ahasver! It was a miracle, I witnessed it there, right before my eyes. We had all heard the Messianics speak of miracles, but this I saw."

"Hevel have you forgotten what is written in our scriptures?"

"What do you mean, Master Ahasver?"

"You all seem to have forgotten of what Moses witnessed in Egypt. The miracles that were performed, not by the devoted or under any divine inspiration of the Lord, but by priests of those animal cults of theirs."

"But, Master Ahasver, this miracle was quite different. It was done in the name of the Lord. Ephraim invoked the Lord and the Messiah."

"And then, Hevel?" asked Alexander, eyeing me ferociously for disrupting the narrative, "What happened afterwards?"

"Well, the little girl stood up, the mother kneeled before Ephraim and asked for both to be baptized. It was at that very moment when I felt the Holy Spirit in me. That's how it happened, Master Ahasver. It was very clear that through Ephraim the Lord's will had been done there in that day."

"This Ephraim, what happened to him?"

"He left the city shortly afterwards, and I don't know where he is now" he lamented.

"Why?" asked Alexander.

"Because from then onwards every sick person in the city came to him for a cure, right Hevel?"

"Yes, Master Ahasver. But the worst were the Zealots. They started to spread rumors that he was a blasphemer and a sorcerer, and should be condemned. For his own protection, we convinced him to leave the city."

"But did he do any more miracles? Did he cure more people?" I still asked.

"I don't know, Master Ahasver."

"I don't understand it. If your messiah gave him this gift, why didn't he use it to heal others?"

"Master Ahasver, in the next few days a lot of people showed up, really a large crowd. But I don't think they were true believers, they were just interested in being cured."

"But the miracle was done to a child who was not one of your devotees. Didn't you say that the mother asked to be baptized? Surely they weren't Messianics then."

"In their hearts they were, Master Ahasver."

"I see" and I still wasted my time with logical arguments!

"A miracle. I would like to see a miracle, wouldn't you, Ahasver?" asked Alexander duly impressed with the tale.

Well, according to Saul he was looking at one.

"Of course I would, Alexander. Maybe one day we will. After all, since Yeshua appeared there have been quite a lot of miracles all around us."

"A new era, Master Ahasver, a new era brought by the Messiah."

For him too.

I fired him a day later. Not because he was a Nazarene, but because he had initially lied and he had hidden from me that story about the reserve money. I couldn't afford to have an overseer with such flaws.

All that was left now was the endowment for Caesarea, and I would then be finished with the Nazarenes, excepting the situation with Ruth, but that was another issue altogether.

THE POLITICIAN

Year 53

Soon after my return from Jaffa, I was visited by Silvius Pulanus, one of the secretaries of the Procurator, Marcus Antonius Felix. Ioanis had told me that he had called before, and also of the rumor that the Romans wanted to fix the price of some products, corn mostly, due to recent mutinies in Alexandria.

I didn't like it at all, knowing how inefficient were such measures. If the price was fixed at too low a rate, the larger traders would withhold sales, and the reverse would certainly upset the populace and breed discontentment and resentment against us.

"But Ioanis are there shortages in the city?"

"No, Ahasver, not yet. We have received the usual loads. But the prices have gone up in some quarters, that is true."

"Do we know why?"

"One hears of rebellions and shortages in Alexandria. The Greeks again, I'm afraid. Such talk always creates the greatest anxiety, and everybody gets nervous."

But the reality turned out quite differently.

" _Salve_ , Master Ahasver," saluted Pulanus, "I bring you greetings from our most prominent Procurator Marcus Felix."

The normal platitudes, but I admit I was surprised that such a distinct official even knew of me.

"I thank you, and I hope that the Governor is well and in good health" I answered, purposely saluting his Master as Governor. After all, a bit of sycophancy never hurt anyone.

"Master Ahasver, the Procurator, recently arrived from Rome, desires to promote a grand festival in honor of his wife, the most sublime princess Drusilla."

"Please do convey to his excellency my compliments, and my very best wishes for his recent wedding."

"Yes, I certainly will do so." and he carried on, "As I was saying, Master Ahasver, the Procurator has expressed his desire to hold this festival, not for himself, you understand, but to honor the princess, a cousin of our most high Emperor Claudius."

"I see, Master Secretary."

"Yes, well then, the Procurator would be very very pleased, if this festival was offered by the city to the princess, his wife, with the spontaneity of citizens grateful for his wise and just governance."

"I see, Master Secretary."

"Please understand, Master Ahasver, that the whole city is most enthusiastic with this event, and as proof of this, we have received some very generous contributions from dedicated citizens, much like yourself. I did try to speak to you before, but I was told that you were traveling."

"Yes, that's true, I was, but rest assured, we will no doubt be able to make a generous contribution too, if it's not too late, I mean."

"No, no, not at all. Well, I am so very pleased then, and so will our Procurator, especially if you could contribute with at least a half a talent of gold, naturally."

Half a talent! Not that I was naive enough not to know all too well, or ever forget, how much we had to pay in bribes to some tax collectors, but when the highest Roman official in the land came asking for such a sum, that was not a good sign at all.

"Well, to be quite frank... I don't have such a large amount of coin readily available, Master Secretary" I had to negotiate, "I'm sure you know, with this imminent crisis and all..."

"Crisis? What is wrong?"

"This shortage of grain..."

"Not to my knowledge, Master Ahasver. I do know for a fact that everything is normal. Even last week you received the three usual cargos, on time and all in perfect order."

Trust the Romans to be well informed.

"Yes, we did, but the riots in Alexandria..."

"Riots? There are no riots in Alexandria."

"That is not what I have been told, Master Secretary."

"I can assure you that there is nothing untoward happening there."

Could it be? Could the other traders, pressured by Felix to contribute to this festival, have created these rumors to raise prices? It was an old trick, often tried and successfully carried out in the past.

"I think I understand, Master Secretary. Please assure the Governor that I will try my utmost to come up with the required value, but I think it will be difficult to have it available any time soon, it might take me some time to gather it."

"Well, Master Ahasver, all we need from you is your assurance. You don't need to give it immediately. A week, a month, as soon as it is more convenient for yourself. The Procurator, although desirous to hold the festivities as soon as possible, will naturally understand your difficulties. But knowing that you pledge such an amount will allow him to proceed, even if it means having to borrow some values from the bankers.

Well, I was entrapped now.

Truthfully, I never considered myself a miser, or much devoted to material possessions, but such tricks left me furious, especially with my so called friends and competitors, who had made up this story about the rioting. So I called for Ioanis, once I got rid of Pulanus.

"Who told you about this crisis in Alexandria?"

"Everybody... everyone is talking about it. The price of corn went up, and that's the reason."

"Then why does the Secretary of the Procurator not know about it, and tells me categorically that there is nothing happening in Alexandria that may inhibit their exports of grain?"

"No? But then..."

"It's very clear, Ioanis. Someone is looking to make some quick profits. Tell me, do we actually know who has raised their prices?"

"Ahasver, almost everyone has done it, especially the larger traders. I was just waiting for your return before doing it too."

"Really? Well then, we will not raise our prices. Let's keep them as they are."

"But, Ahasver, the others won't like it. We'll upset the market."

"I know that. And that's exactly why we will do it. If my hunch is right, soon they will come around to talk with us."

So they did.

Two days later I got a visit from Adad, one of my Syrian competitors, always accompanied with his retinue of Nubian slaves, to protect him and carry his heavy palanquin. We knew each other well, despite our differences and our rivalry. After all, everyone knew of the cultural and religious differences between the Judaeans and the Greek and Syrian communities, and despite the fact that Caesarea had been built by a Judaean King, the Syrians had always claimed that the area was already inhabited by them long before the arrival of Herod. But we got along well, Adad and I. He was an old man, rotund and fat as any eastern potentate, a true artist in astuteness and the richest merchant in the region, according to some, and of the all province, others claimed.

" _Khaire_ Ahasver! May the gods keep you in perpetual peace and blissful prosperity" hugging me with the usual fervor of the Asiatics.

"I thank you, Adad, and may they preserve you and provide for many more years in good health."

"But little prosperity?" he responded laughing.

"As much as the many years of life you have just wished me" I replied smiling.

For long we had had this ritual of ours, partly replacing the traditional Syrian courtesies, too prolix and always overdone.

"Ahasver, you don't grow older my friend! I don't know what's your secret, but you could very well share it with your good and most loyal friends, like me, for instance."

"Loyal? It's hard enough to believe you are good, but loyal...?"

"Why do you say that, Ahasver?"

"Why are you here today, Adad?"

"I have come to see you, of course. Hardly anyone sees you these days, and it is always such a high point of my existence to be in your company."

Always overdoing it.

"Just to see me?"

"Of course, my dearest friend. By the way, you will not deny this thirsty man you see before you, a cup of that _ambrosia_ that you import from my Damascus, will you?"

"Wine, Adad, just wine."

"You are most taciturn today. Come let's go up, let us share the withdrawal of the most blessed Helios into the bosom of the always fair and mysterious Nix."

He meant the terrace, so we did go up and I asked for the wine and some lamps. Adad's verbosity would certainly take us into the night. Not that I didn't enjoy the company of the old Syrian, always well disposed, humorous and very much aware of all that went on in the city, but I knew why he had come. It wouldn't be as pleasant as usual.

"Please, do tell me what is going on, Adad" interrupting his digression on the obvious excellence of a vintage matured under the sunshine of his Syria.

"Ahasver, you're not being very pleasant today. I was praising this nectar."

"Adad, why did you raise your prices?"

"Prices? What prices?" replied with a look of feigned surprise.

"Adad...?"

"Yes, well, the prices. But Ahasver, you know why. Those eternal riots in Alexandria. How belligerent are those Greeks, Ahasver."

"That's nothing but a rumor. Probably planted by yourselves."

"It is not true. I deny it! There were riots, I assure you."

"In that city there are always quarrels. But it didn't affect us, did it?"

"Maybe not yet. But we should prepare ourselves. We should, you know."

"Well, I think I know the real reason."

Obviously he knew that I knew, and that's why he was there.

"Didn't Pulanus come to visit you?" he asked with a clear change of tone in his voice.

"You know he did. You always know everything."

"You exaggerate, Ahasver, not everything, unfortunately..."

"The festival..."

"Of course."

"I can understand that, but why was this not discussed among all of us, as is usually the case?"

"Ahasver, you were traveling, That I knew."

"I was away for a week or so. Are you saying that all this happened in a week?"

"It's the absolute truth, I assure you."

"But why only the Syrians have raised the prices?"

"There was no time to arrange it with everyone. You were not here, and your Judaean colleagues won't do anything without your agreement."

"That's not true either. What was so urgent that postponing for a single week would make such a difference?"

"I have explained, I think..."

"Adad, we have been friends for many years now. We are rivals, but we have always respected each other in the past. So listen to me. I will not raise my prices. My grain remains as it is."

"Ahasver, you are not being reasonable. This will hurt us all, and we have to stay united on this. And let me tell you something, my friend, this Procurator is just starting. Felix is an ambitious man."

"We have lived with others like him."

"This one is different. He was a Secretary to Claudius, and is now part of the Imperial family, and don't forget that his brother Pallas is still one of the most powerful men in Rome. The Emperor is old, and everyone knows that Pallas rules in Rome these days, and this Caesar will not last long..."

"Careful, Adad, you forget that it is a crime to augur the demise of an Emperor?"

"Ahasver, it is not I who says it. The whole of Rome is talking about it."

"And by raising the prices we solve the problem."

"We believe it will help, yes."

"We, the Syrians?"

"Yes, Ahasver, and the Greeks too."

"And the Judaeans?"

"The Judaeans are protected."

"From Felix? From having to pay for this festival? And pray tell me, what do you think was the reason for Pulanus's visit?"

"I was not expecting that. It surprised me, and that's why I am here today."

"I don't understand you."

"Ahasver, one of the most influential men in the Procurator's entourage is your former High Priest, Jonathan, He actually asked the Emperor to appoint Felix to Judaea."

Incredible how much this Syrian knew!

"So?"

"It is said the Felix has an agreement with Jonathan. He will not demand extortions from the Judaeans."

"Well, it seems then that someone has overlooked that in my case."

"There's the mystery. Is the Procurator going back on his word, or are you somehow exempted from this deal?"

"Me? Why should I be exempted?"

"Ahasver are you not aware that people are saying that you are a Christian?"

"That's ridiculous. I am a staunch believer, everyone knows that."

"There were Christians seen at this house, and not just visiting either. Your guests. And let us not forget your benefactor, Joseph, a man officially condemned for professing that faith."

"Adad, I was a member of the Sanhedrin, I go to Jerusalem to sacrifice..."

"Ahasver, I am not saying otherwise, believe me, and I will never doubt your faith, or Ruth's," of course he knew about Ruth, "but these are rumors, certainly fed by resentment, as is most often the case. Unfortunately, we cannot escape from envy, Ahasver. They look at us and envy us all, not only for what we have, but mostly for what they imagine we have. It's cruel..."

"You exaggerate..."

"You must be careful, Ahasver. These are troubled times. There are too many rumors going about. And you know something? The more absurd they are, the more people will talk about them."

"How does one fight such malicious slander?"

"Not by logic and reasoning, I can assure you, and not by denying them either. Your true and loyal friends won't need your rebuttal, your enemies will never content themselves with any explanation, and the crowd outside is too ignorant and uncultured to believe either way. Only time and behavior may weaken and defeat them in the end. That's why I am begging you to raise those prices, Ahasver, don't play the outsider. And once you do, all your fellow traders will follow too."

"And if I don't? I might become popular, you know. The populace will love it..."

"You could be popular for a short while, but you might just find yourself alone, and a target of other more pernicious rumors too."

"Planted by yourselves, you mean."

"I wouldn't know that. But, Ahasver, be reasonable! You will profit much more. What's your problem?"

"Adad, I have just returned from a trip, as you know. Are you really not aware of all the misery that surrounds us? The state of famine in the province. I saw it. Abandoned towns, arid fields, squalid populations..."

"And you alone will solve any of that? Because be assured of one thing, you will be all alone if you persist in this path. Do you think your Judaean friends will not raise their prices? You might be the biggest trader, but once you run out of grain the people will go to the others. Don't go that way, please. I was talking of rumors, don't encourage them by your behavior. Plus, you have the problem of Ruth..."

"Very few know of that. You know because I told you when she left this house."

"I won't deny that she is very cautious. But people talk... servants, the priests who hardly see her at temple."

"She is going through a crisis of faith, I told the priests that, and some even visit her occasionally."

"You don't have to explain it to me, my friend."

"No, of course, not. You know the truth."

"Ahasver, it is late, but before I go I would like us to understand each other. I know how you like to follow some strange and bizarre moral principles, we have spoken of it before. It's a flaw in these days to think like you do. Not everything in this world is as rational and logic as you would like it to be. And if you doubt my words, just look at yourself."

"Look at me? What do you mean?"

"It is as I said, Ahasver, rumors and gossip, gossip and rumors, and the more improbable the more that mob out there believes it, talks about it and spreads it. Now I must really go, I have a most delightful friend waiting for me at home."

It was obvious that Adad's visit had one purpose only, to align me with the other traders. The threats were only too obvious, and not all of them had been enumerated during the conversation. My initial intention, to make it clear that I would not align myself to their unilateral decisions, did not succeed, and clearly showed how fragile my position was these days. The emporium was powerful, but not I.

Plus, I had a strong suspicion that the last remark made by Adad was somehow linked to my last conversation with Saul at Ruth's house. Possibly, one of the servants overheard us. And as he so clearly said it, the more unbelievable, the more they would speculate and speak of it.

Ioanis came to agree with me, and we had no other choice than to raise our prices, immediately followed by all the others who had not yet done so. As expected, people revolted, and some traders and shopkeepers were battered and assaulted. Felix soon intervened, severely punishing all those caught by his legionnaires. He also issued an edict where he announced that unless the mutinies ceased, he would recruit new guards and these would be paid by an increase in taxes.

Fortunately this proclamation was effective, and soon orderliness returned. So did Pulanus.

" _Dignus_ Ahasver, once more I bring you the warmest greetings from our illustrious Procurator."

"I thank you, Master Secretary. I hope the Procurator is well."

"Yes, indeed, he is. Anxious for the festival to take place as you can imagine."

"Indeed I do."

Which, despite all the urgency, no one could find any signs that such an event was scheduled for any time soon.

"Yes. Very soon certainly. Everything is going very well."

If he came for the money, he would have to ask for it.

"And how is the princess?"

"Very well too. But a little disappointed, I must admit."

"Really? Well, I suppose that she misses Rome, her family and friends. After all, Caesarea is a very small town..."

"No, no. Just between the two of us, I can tell you that she was expecting a reception worthy of her elevated status. You know that in Rome she was received with the highest honors when she arrived from Mauritania... by the Emperor himself..."

"Well then, she will be even more surprised with the festival."

We could go on. I could still talk about the weather, the harvests, the mutinies, difficulties in trade, and so on and on.

"Master Ahasver, about that other matter."

"Yes?"

"Yes, what we talked about the last time?"

"Yes, you mean my contribution? Well, let me be as straightforward as you, Master Secretary. We are going through a very difficult time at the moment, very hard indeed, and not only for me, you understand. Everyone is complaining these days about the violence, and you know how violent times always upset trading. I had actually thought to send for the money from my banker in Jerusalem, but I couldn't risk it, not with all the violence rampaging our roads."

"Surely not, Master Ahasver, the situation is not as bad as all that!"

"Well, I can tell you that I am not exaggerating, Master Secretary. You should really do some enquiries on what I am saying. Moreover, I have received similar information from several friends in the province, and even from Jerusalem. These reports are from very reliable sources. Respected members of the Great Council, former colleagues of mine..."

"You were a member of the Sanhedrin?"

"Yes. Well, it has been some time, but I still keep in touch with some former colleagues."

"This information came from them? This news of widespread unrest?"

"Yes, amongst others, of course. It seems to be the general opinion in the Council, as my good friend, the _Nasi_ Simeon, wrote to me a few days ago. You know him, of course, the president of the Council?"

"No, we have never met, but of course I do know who he is."

After all, my talk with Adad had been useful. He had forgotten to tell me that gossip could be fought with other rumors and ambiguity, and I wanted this secretary to be fully aware of my connections. I thought of invoking the name of our former High Priest Jonathan, but I found it unnecessary. All I wanted was for him to report to his master that I could never be a Nazarene. That was my primary intention and also, that whatever he had agreed with Jonathan should also extend to me.

"But I am digressing, Secretary Pulanus. We were talking about my contribution."

"Yes, Master Ahasver."

"Well, as I mentioned, I am having some difficulties with the values that we spoke the other day, and believe me, I am trying very very hard. But I can give you some of it right now. That I can do, and with the utmost pleasure, knowing that I will be contributing to such a momentous event. The remainder, however, I cannot give you a final date at this moment."

"Whatever you can, Master Ahasver, will be greatly appreciated, I assure you. And I will let the Procurator know of your efforts, indeed I will."

That was it. I gave him slightly less than half of the initial amount, and I was certain that he would not return for the remainder. I believe that Joseph, an acknowledged authority in such diplomatic affairs, would be proud of me.

But I also had to do something more to fight against the rumors mentioned by Adad. It was worrying to be seen as a Nazarene, and Ruth's situation was a risk for her own safety. Our separation was not formal. I had not renounced her as my wife. I could do it, of course, but I would have to come up with a reasonable motive, but I could never claim her conversion as the reason without imperiling her own life and liberty. In the meanwhile, I was still not finished with the business of handing Joseph's legacy to the Nazarenes in Caesarea. I was still waiting for the return of their leader, Zacheus.

To begin my attack on those malicious rumors, I made it clear in the temple, and through friends and acquaintances, that I was now willing to join the city council, something which I had always refused to do in the past.

Year 54

At the beginning of the year, and still not having heard anything from Zacheus, I once more asked Ruth about his whereabouts, but she was equally puzzled by his absence, and suggested that I give Joseph's bequest to another Nazarene named Philip, whose daughters visited her often. After all the work I had to get them out of my house, I certainly wasn't willing to receive them again, so I agreed to meet with him at her place.

Relieved to be finally completing Joseph's last wish, I went to her house very early in the day, as I had arranged to go with Ioanis later that morning to the Pretorium, where one of the customs officials had asked to review some old accounts. Certainly, such fiscal zeal was another of Felix's traits.

"Ruth is this Philip one of the leaders here in the city?"

"Yes, and one of our first preachers, just like Stephen who was at our house in Jerusalem. Do you remember?"

"Stephen? Yes, but not this Philip. Does he know me?"

"No, I don't think you have met. I was asking if you remember Stephen, our first martyr."

"Yes, I do. He was stoned."

"Yes, by your Sanhedrin."

I didn't comment. By now I was getting used to this sort of remarks. My religion, my priests, my temple, my rituals, my Zealots and now my Sanhedrin...

"He's late. Do we have to wait much longer?"

"Are you in a hurry, Ahasver? Some morning engagement perhaps?"

"Yes, Ruth. I have to go to the Pretorium."

"Giving them some money too?"

"I hope not. Why do you ask that?"

"Well Ahasver, you think I don't know what you've been doing ? All the money you have been spending? The donations to the temple, your campaign for the council. You can't hide it, you know."

"You are very well informed. Paying someone to spy on me nowadays?"

"Of course not. I couldn't afford it."

"Are you saying that the allowance I'm paying you is insufficient?"

"I didn't say that."

Such were our conversations these days. I was growing more and more convinced that I should take her away from the city, but in the end I never came around to do it. After a brief and awkward silence, Philip arrived with two of his daughters.

"Master Ahasver, sister Ruth told me that you had some money to give to the congregation."

"Yes, Master Philip, that's why I'm here today. To fulfill Joseph's bequest."

"Please just call me Philip. And these are my daughters Hermione and Hila," and sitting down he went on, "believe me that we are all very grateful for your work and certainly our Messiah has already rewarded Joseph for his devotion by granting him eternal life by His side."

I just bobbed my head.

"Master Ahasver, the Lord has certainly blessed you too, we all agree on that," pointing to the others in the room, "unfortunately evil is still blocking your soul, and has not allowed you to accept the divine grace of the Spirit. But do not despair, the Messiah in good time will reveal Himself to you. Mysterious to us, mere mortals, His holy designs."

"The word of the Lord!" complemented the daughters, immediately followed by Ruth.

Suddenly it seemed to me that I was amidst one of their rituals.

"Father," said Hermione, the older daughter, "why don't you intercede to the Messiah so that, through the Holy Spirit, you may expel the malignancy that haunts this brother, as you did so many times before in Samaria?"

I was puzzled by this assertion, and seeing Ruth's dismayed look and Philip's silent stare, I could see that nothing good would come from it. And before I could react, he answered.

"No, my daughter. This is not the moment. We are here today for another purpose. Master Ahasver is far from ready too."

"For...?" I asked, "what are you talking about?"

Ruth answered. "Ahasver, Hermione was questioning brother Philip whether he could remove the malevolence that you harbor in your heart, just as our Messiah did to the possessed in Cafarnaum."

But what was this now ?

"You think I am haunted by some malignant spirit, a _dybbuk_ ?" I asked startled, "After all I've done for you people? Ruth...?"

"Master Ahasver..."

"No, no! First Saul tells me that I've been blessed by a miracle, granted by none less that your own messiah! Now you think I'm possessed..."

"Saul said that ?" asked Philip, visibly shaken with such notion, "A miracle performed by the Messiah Himself?"

"I'm sorry, but I have to leave now, but certainly Ruth will explain it all to you. After all she did agree with Saul at the time."

"Ahasver..."

"The money is there on the table. Make good use of it, as Joseph would have wanted you to do. The same Joseph whom you call brother and abandoned him in some forlorn sepulcher in Tyre, when you all knew that his wish was to be interred in his own tomb in Jerusalem. The same Joseph who always supported your cause and gave everything he had, his goods and his dedication. And I am the possessed one? The evil one...?"

"Ahasver, wait..."

But I didn't wait, and standing up I went towards the door, but before leaving I turned around and faced them.

"One more thing. And it applies to you too, Ruth. From this moment onwards, I don't want to see or meet with any Messianic. Ever! Ruth, no one! And be very careful with what you are saying out there. Some of you talk too much and can harm other people's reputation. I'll not allow it. And don't stare back at me like that, I don't care for your thoughts on this."

I left relieved and satisfied with my performance. Amazing how venting one's feelings made one feel so good. I was quite serious. If they persisted with those rumors about me, I would most certainly do something to curb them once and for all.

That year I ended up going to Jerusalem for the three main festivals. I had decided to improve my standing and my visibility in the community, and I gave generously, even paying the cost of the journey to some of our poorer pilgrims. My name was at stake, and I hadn't forgotten Adad admonishments.

In the meanwhile, and as I had expected all along, there was not the faintest sign or activity in Caesarea regarding the long awaited feast of Felix, and Pulanus didn't return either. I also celebrated my fiftieth birthday. Magnanimously, I even thought of sponsoring some chariot racing in the city, but Ioanis advised against it.

Almost at the end of the year we received news of the death and deification of the Emperor Claudius, and his adopted son, Nero, was now the new Caesar. With the news of this death, Felix decreed a month's mourning throughout the province, and soon enough announced his plans to build a new temple to the new divinity. He must have been satisfied, he was now related to a god.

So was I, finally elected to the municipal council.

In regards to Ruth, once more cloistered in frigid silence, I had not decided what to do, and I would probably never decide either, so I just let things continue as they were. To calm things down at the temple, I confided that she was ill, mentally unstable, having never recovered from our son's loss. Such a condition would plainly satisfy the more inquisitive and was reason enough for our separation. To those who mentioned to me that she was in communion with the Nazarenes, I would just sigh, and mournfully comment that surely that was an all too clear sign of her own insanity.

Year 55

The death of the Emperor Claudius not only brought an end to Felix's plans to celebrate his festival, but also ended his marriage.

"I tell you, Ahasver," confided Demetria, "he was the one to sue for divorce."

"You are always so well informed, my goddess."

"Always, my dear, always" smiling with the beguiled look of someone who knows too much about what was never too relevant to know.

Pleased, she continued.

"I know, from a most reliable source, that he only married her to get her away from Rome. Her own family couldn't stand her, and they paid his brother to convince the Emperor to force this wedding on Felix."

"Oh, what a tangled web you Greeks weave..."

"Ahasver! Don't start with me, and they are Romans. And what I know of some Judaeans..."

"Yes, yes, but continue. What will our most distinguished ruler do now? I suppose you know..."

"You don't?" she asked mischievously.

"How could I? You are the only one who feeds me these so delightful morsels of information."

"Yes, yes, I can imagine. But, well, it is said, and I have no reason not to believe it, that he will marry another princess!"

"Really? Another princess? The man knows how to choose them, that has to be said in his favor. I wonder sometimes... aren't you also a princess, my Demetria?"

"Stop that. I'm serious. But can you guess who it is?"

"And why should I guess ? I can see how anxious you are to tell me."

"What's wrong with you today? Well, never mind, I will tell you then, it's Drusilla, the daughter of your deceased King Agrippa. This time a real Judaean princess."

"What? What are you talking about? She is a married woman."

"You don't believe me?"

It wasn't easy not to believe in her, she had given me ample proof of how well informed she was. I had little doubt that she had been at Felix's Pretorium a few times, if not in his bed, at least in another close by.

So the marriage of Felix, as prophesied by my goddess, brought a new princess to town, taking residence at her father's former palace on the promontory. Nothing strange in that, but as the palace had previously being sacked and partially destroyed after Agrippa's death, Drusilla forced the city to pay for its repair and the statuary that had been stolen was to be returned. Statues that now adorned several residences in the city, including one of Venus that was now owned by Demetria.

"Ahasver, I am scared" she confessed to me during one of our encounters.

"Scared of what?"

"That statue" pointing it out to me.

"Afraid of a statue? What's wrong with it? It's a beautiful work..."

"Don't be silly, not of the statue," she replied angrily, a clear signal that it was high time for me to leave, "I'm talking about having to return it."

"You have no alternative. Everybody knows from where it came from."

Clearly an unfortunate choice of words.

"Everybody?" she now shouted, "Do you think this is a brothel? Everyone, you say?"

"That's not what I meant. Just an expression. Calm down."

"Easy for you to speak."

"Just return it. Many have done so already."

"Yes, and you know what? Felix won't forget who they are. Mark my words."

"How come?"

"I don't know, Ahasver. Maybe he will prosecute us later for stealing, or something."

"But didn't you tell me that it was a present, from one of your many admirers?"

"That was just to make you jealous," she confessed, "I bought it directly from one of robbers. For a good price too."

"You shouldn't have done that."

"Everybody did it. Didn't you ?"

"No. What would I do with a statue. You know that we Judaeans don't like such adornments."

"You don't, but others do."

"Really? That surprises me."

"But do tell, Ahasver. What shall I do?"

"Return it, I told you. You have no other option."

"Do you think someone would report it? You wouldn't, would you?"

"Of course not, my goddess. But why risk it?"

"Yes, you are right. This Drusilla is a dangerous woman."

"She is?"

"Oh yes, Ahasver. But how can you not know what is going on around you?"

"Please do calm down."

"I tell you everything, but you ! You are quieter than that statue."

"I know very little that could be of interest to you. I'm just a trader. Boring stuff for someone like you."

"Don't lie to me. You know a lot of what is going on. Aren't you in the council?"

It wasn't entirely false what she said, but one of the things that I knew best was of how indiscreet she was.

"You are right. You do tell me many interesting things."

"And the statue, Ahasver?"

The statue was returned, and Demetria's fears were justified. Incredible how she always got it right.

Felix, once satisfied that all the statues had been returned, accused all the previous owners of theft. Once more the Procurator's zeal was unblemished. The sanctions could be severe, but he graciously dropped the charges to all those who paid a hefty fine for their complicity. In the end, Demetria paid the highest fine. Drusilla, once she heard that one of her favorite statues had been decorating a courtesan's house, banished Demetria from the province.

Inconsolable, she departed for Alexandria, and I lost a good company and a very fruitful source of information. To comfort and look after my needs, she recommended another courtesan, Isidora, supposedly a cousin, although I had some doubts about that.

Soon it was again time for _pesach_ , and in that year Ioanis advised me not to go in pilgrimage to Jerusalem. It was known in the city that assailants were once again active in the region, and almost every caravan had suffered some attack. Every year was the same tedious reality. But that same year, the assailants actually came up with a nefarious innovation. Undoubtedly informed by accomplices, they started to seize the more wealthier pilgrims, demanding the payment of ransom for their release. Unfortunately, few ever came back. The majority just simply vanished.

I thought of going with an escort or in some anonymous way, just a pilgrim among all the others, but Ioanis wouldn't have it and insisted that if I was really set on going, then Alexander would accompany me. It was pure manipulation, as he knew that I would never jeopardize his son's safety.

Given the reluctance of many to travel to Jerusalem, the council decided to call for a meeting with Felix with the purpose of alerting him of the situation. Given my known fluency with latin, I was chosen to be the spokesman.

Felix received us in a large room of Agrippa's palace, where Drusilla, his wife, was also present as well as some of his secretarial staff.

Once we were done with the prolixly greetings, more appropriate for an Imperial court than for that group, I began to expound on the reasons for our concern, and of the need for immediate action to be taken by the Romans. I emphasized not only the inherent dangers to individual lives, but also the risk of decreasing taxes as almost all merchants were now reluctant to send caravans to the inner province. Nothing like hitting the essential, as we were all too aware of Felix's concerns for his fiscal revenues.

As I finished, Felix stood up and came over to me, thanking me for making the situation so clear to all. Turning to the others, he announced that he would make our concerns known to the Governor himself, and without waiting for the approval of his superiors, he would immediately send the veteran tribune Gaius Rufinus with adequate soldiery to hunt down the assailants, and to safeguard the roads that led to the main provincial towns.

Once his speech was done, as the others were leaving the room, he grabbed my arm and took me towards one of the doors that opened into the gardens and the famous pool, resplendent under that noon day sun, encircled by some of the recovered statuary.

"Master Ahasver," he began, "I have for some time wanted to meet you, but unfortunately I have been too occupied with important affairs, which have limited my availability for more pleasant tasks."

"Procurator, I'm honored by your interest" I answered, wondering what that was all about.

"I know that you are a close friend of _Rabban_ Simeon."

"Yes, I have the honor of counting him as a friend."

"And Jonathan? One of your wisest sages? You are acquainted with him?"

"Not intimately, Procurator."

"But you know who I mean?"

"Yes, of course. I met him a few times in the past when I was a member of the Sanhedrin."

"Yes, I was told you were. But I am curious... why did you leave? It is not very common for members to leave the Council voluntarily."

"I gather that it is not, but I did it when I came to live in Caesarea."

"But even then you could still have retained your seat."

"Yes, perhaps I could, but I thought it better to resign and to be replaced by someone who could be more participative" but I also didn't need to explain to him that my replacement had been Isaac.

"Master Ahasver, I do admire your stance. Perhaps one of these days we will be able to meet and talk a bit more."

"Of course, Procurator, I am at your disposal, as always."

Amidst the departing ceremonies, he added.

"I think we'll soon have an opportunity to work closer, and I would very much like to count with your support."

Perplexed with the whole scene, I mentioned it to Adad, who I knew was part of the Procurator's inner circle of confidants.

"Ahasver, it's very simple, my dear friend! I am sure that he plans to invite you to his council."

"What council?"

"Allow me to explain" visibly amused with my reaction, "The Procurator has expressed to some people his desire to create a mixed council, with representatives from the various communities. It will be, as I understood, a group of advisors, similar to the one setup by his brother-in-law, Herod Agrippa. I have my suspicions that all of this was his wife's idea in the first place."

"It's a terrible idea for us, Adad! The people will blame us if the decisions are unpopular. You know it too. Also, we will be seen as minions and collaborators of the Romans."

"Of course! I know that too well, my dear and eternal friend," and maliciously added, "why do you think I turned him down?"

"Just like that? You said no to him?"

"No, my dearest! One must never, ever, say no to anyone who holds so much power. I just said that my fellow countrymen were an envious bunch, and they would inevitably cause all sorts of problems for me, and more importantly, for my businesses" he explained, this time, laughing loudly.

Years 56 - 57

Once more I received a visit from Secretary Pulanus, this time with a message from the Procurator. Felix, amidst greetings and courtesies, formally invited me to become part of his _concilio provinciali_.

"A great honor, Master Ahasver" assured me Pulanus.

But my opinion was not so enthusiastic. How could I get out of it?

"Master Secretary, undoubtedly so!"

"May I then confirm your acceptance to the Procurator?"

"Please, do convey my most heartfelt gratitude to the Procurator for honoring me in this way, but I will need to know more details regarding the functions and the purposes of this council. I am sure that he will understand the many demands that are made on my time, with all the affairs and the businesses that I have to look after. No less significant matters, I assure you!"

Maybe in this way I could escape, or at least gain some time.

But Felix was determined, and calling me over to the palace, I was persuaded to accept. Not that he threatened me, but I could see that his resentment wouldn't benefit me at all either.

To my surprise, Felix turned out to be a vigorous and decisive participant. There was no cause or problem brought to him that he wouldn't willingly opine or decide on. Our role was to bring to his attention the problems and issues that plagued the different communities. For this purpose, I often had informal meetings with my colleagues, from the municipal council, to hear of their complaints and of issues that should be brought before the Procurator. Unfortunately, and to my despair, these gatherings were largely ineffective, and many times I had to bring the meetings to a close when the points raised were too trite, or the discussions too long and unproductive.

But on the whole, the community was reasonably satisfied with Felix and with my role. The questions regarding the safety of the roads, and of the pilgrims and caravans, had been decisively dealt with, and many of the criminals involved had been caught. And most were ruthlessly executed by the Romans.

But, it was also the opinion of many, certainly not enough to deter others.

"Master Ahasver! Please, may I have your attention?" signaled Abraham.

I was in one of those meetings with colleagues, where some of the more agitated were trying to draw my attention to their own issues, invariably more important than all the others.

"Yes, Master Abraham!" I shouted back.

"Master Ahasver," and turning to the others, gestured for them to calm down, "are you aware of the murder of Master Ezram? Killed yesterday? Here in the city, close to that public square of the Greeks?"

"Master Abraham, I admit that I wasn't aware" I answered, raising from my seat to show my respect with such morbid news.

"Master Ahasver," he carried on, "it is very important to urgently take this news to the Procurator!"

"I am sure that the Procurator has already been informed" I answered.

"Master Ahasver, it is important that you know of what happened."

"I have just learned of it, as I said..."

"Please let me finish, Master Ahasver."

"Of course" and I sat down.

"Let me tell you that a dagger and a message was found by the body. A very worrying message, Master Ahasver, very worrying."

How some people liked to hear themselves!

"Please do tell us, Master Abraham."

"The Sicarii did it!" someone added vociferously, also yearning for Abraham to conclude.

"The Sicarii? Are you sure?"

"Yes, the message was very clear. A warning, Master Ahasver. A warning promising violence and retribution to all who associate themselves with the Romans. Only the Sicarii act in this way, killing with daggers and always in public spaces. That is known," he finally concluded. "and we all know what this means!"

Yes, I did know.

The Sicarii had arrived in Caesarea. A semi-religious grouping, violent, formed by Zealots to spread a bloody message — the death of all who collaborated with the invaders, namely the Romans.

"I thank you, Master Abraham, for bringing this issue to our attention. Please be assured that I will notify the Procurator of this. But also, my friends, we should take all necessary precautions. Anyone of us could be targeted by these murderers."

"The Procurator must urgently organize a search for these criminals" someone suggested.

"Certainly," I agreed wholeheartedly, "but let us not forget how difficult it is to find them. There hasn't been much success in Jerusalem in finding them. We all know that they only strike when they are in the middle of large crowds, but here in Caesarea it won't be so easy for them. I strongly urge you all to avoid crowded places. It's our best form of defense against them."

At the end of the meeting, several came up to me, advising me to take all possible precautions. I would certainly be one of their preferential targets.

I knew it too well.

I spoke to Ioanis about the murder of Ezram and of the possible involvement of the Sicarii. It was news to him too, which clearly showed that the city was not aware of the arrival of the sect. We immediately took some precautions, and he once more asked me to refrain from going to the _agora_. Alexander, now busier with the affairs delegated by his father, also offered to accompany me whenever I needed, but I opted for recruiting a former soldier of Agrippa as my personal bodyguard.

Contrary to my expectation, neither the council nor Felix, showed much concern when I mentioned the assassination.

"Master Ahasver, it might be an isolated case. My sources assure me that there are no Sicarii in Caesarea. Maybe someone wanted to kill this man and made it look like the Sicarii did it," suggested Felix, "we have heard of similar cases."

"Maybe Procurator," I answered grimly, "and maybe not. Maybe your sources are not that sound. Isn't it better to take some measures?"

"What do you recommend?" asked Felix frowning.

"Warn the population. People should be alerted..."

But Felix wasn't convinced and quickly interrupted me.

"I would prefer, for now, not to do anything. In the meanwhile, if there are other incidents we will reconsider."

"Master Ahasver," remarked Konstantinos, a member of the Greek community, "this problem with the Sicarii is all yours, the Judaeans I mean. It is one of your sects. All that have been killed were Judaeans. Judaeans who they claim deserved to die for some reason or the other..."

"So," I replied glaring at him, "you propose that this council does nothing?"

"I didn't say that exactly" he answered apologetically.

But Felix brought the conversation to an end.

He clearly wasn't interested to go on with that topic. To him, these disturbances were among Judaeans and as long as they didn't affect the Romans, he would do little, if anything. All the others, the Greeks, the Syrians, they all shared this same opinion.

By design or chance, Jonathan was not present in that meeting. He would have been a valuable ally in that discussion. But I never saw him again. Not long after, we received the news that he was murdered by the Sicarii in Jerusalem on his way to the Temple.

And Felix ?

"Most regrettable," he bitterly complained, "a great loss, a great personal loss to me. You all knew too well of how much I respected and admired that most dear friend."

So he decreed three days of mourning in the province.

The death of Jonathan alarmed even more the whole of the Judaean community, and not only in Jerusalem. Also, Felix's inaction in actively persecuting the Sicarii, brought on the most bizarre rumors of his own involvement with that assassination.

Strangely, after Jonathan's demise, Felix almost ceased to call the council to meet.

" _Salve_ Ahasver."

" _Salve,_ _dignus_ Procurator."

"I apologize for asking, Master Ahasver, but you are not a Messianic, are you?"

Again ?

"Not at all, Procurator."

"I'm sorry once again, but I have heard some rumors."

"Well, I assure you that I am not."

"I actually wanted to see if you know a Messianic by the name of Paulus, a citizen recently arrested in Jerusalem."

"If you mean Saul of Tarsus, then I do know him, Procurator" I had heard of Saul's arrest in Jerusalem.

"That's the one. Can you confirm to me that he is indeed a member of that sect, the same that follow the teachings of a prophet executed during the time of Pilate?"

"Of that I am not sure. As I said I am not a Messianic. But I do know Saul. I spoke to him a few times before, but I haven't seen him for many years."

"A Roman Messianic! How odd!"

"Roman? Saul is Roman?" I asked flabbergasted with such information.

"You didn't know? It is true. He is a Roman citizen, and I have received a petition calling for his extradition from Jerusalem. Apparently he has powerful enemies there, and I have been told that if remains in the city they will kill him. I cannot allow that to happen to a Roman citizen, especially in Jerusalem."

"Why was he arrested, Procurator?"

"Rioting, sedition, some violence in the Temple. Something like that. I've been told that their leader was also arrested for similar reasons. Unbelievable these fanatics. Won't they ever learn..."

"It is strange. What I knew of Saul, he was not a violent man, not at all. And in the Temple? How strange..."

"People change, Master Ahasver... except you it seems..." he said with a rueful grin, "I must admit that some rumors are beginning to arouse my curiosity..."

"Rumors, Procurator?"

"You are not aware? I somehow doubt that. Your youthful appearance... I am almost convinced..." now openly smiling.

"Envy, Procurator ! All a result of a life of service and healthy living. Not many vices, I must admit."

"It could be, Master Ahasver. You Judaeans really do have the most unusual eating habits. I wonder if it would also work for me? If I ate the same type of foods... Well, I can assure you that it doesn't do much for my wife" he concluded laughing.

He in good spirits and I panicking!

"Ioanis!" I called out as I got home, "Adina! Do you know where Master Ioanis is?"

"No, Master. It is possible that he is in the warehouse."

"Ask someone to go and call him for me."

It was time to talk to Ioanis. If such rumors had already reached the ears of the Procurator, I had to see with Ioanis what could be done. For long he knew that something wasn't right with me. After all, we had known each other for almost twenty years.

" _Khaire_ Ahasver. You sent for me?"

"Yes, Ioanis, let's go upstairs and have something to drink. I need to speak with you. Adina bring that small amphora of white wine that was opened yesterday and two cups."

Seated in the couches, I waited for the wine to arrive, while Ioanis recounted the day's chores, and I briefly mentioned the meeting of the council.

"Mistress Ruth was here today" he informed me.

"Did she say what she wanted?"

"No. She just asked for you to call on her. She didn't seem anxious. Just a social visit, I guess."

"All right, I'll see her later" and reclining further I continued, "Ioanis I wanted to speak with you about a delicate matter. It seems almost unbelievable, but even the absurd has to be discussed sometimes."

"What is the problem?"

"There's a rumor going around that somehow I am not aging. Now I ask you. Have you heard of it? Does it make any sense?"

"No, it doesn't. But something's are undeniable."

"Do you also believe in it?"

"Ahasver, it's enough to look at you. It's almost twenty years since we have known each other, and in reality you haven't changed. You don't complain of any ailments, pains... I've never seen you ill, and you can almost read in the dark."

"Yes, that's all true. What's your opinion, Ioanis? What could be the reason?"

"I certainly don't know, Ahasver. There must be one, surely. But I can't give you a reason. Maybe only a sage, a scholar might know, or one of those Greek doctors."

"Why Greek? We have excellent Judaean doctors."

"Yes, of course..."

"You, yourself, don't have an opinion. You don't know, and you can't even imagine a reason! But certainly those that are spreading this rumor must have some idea, right?" I admit I was a bit agitated.

"Honestly, Ahasver, you are taking it too serious. Don't you know how people like to talk? How people are envious of everyone? Anything that is seen as favorable to us is immediately coveted by others. We all know this. It's human."

"Yes, Ioanis, I do know it. Usually I don't much care for what people say, but this thing has reached the palace, the Procurator himself."

"Did he mention anything?"

"Yes, he did. Quite explicitly too"

"He hasn't known you for long..."

"So there's nothing to be done?" I asked once more "Ioanis, I need to know what people are saying. It's important that I know if I am being accused of something, some pact with a demon, witchcraft, whatever..."

"Ahasver, I can't really say, but one hears the most ridiculous things. Nobody is saying anything sensible. And as long as they continue in this vein, you can rest assured that few will consider it seriously. If, as you say, this reality is totally absurd, the stories out there are much worse."

Someone once said to me, in another time and place, that the final solution to any problem was time. Chronos would eventually unravel it all. But why was he ignoring me ?

As the Procurator had previously referred, Saul was on his way to Caesarea under guard and would remain imprisoned until his trial. This had been the motive for Ruth's visit on that day, but as I was too embroiled with my own worries at the time, I had not returned her visit.

The conversation with Ioanis had been inconclusive for my purposes. How the Greeks loved rhetoric and said so little! The more they spoke the less they said, and Ioanis was a true artisan in the arts of procrastination. Since I couldn't afford to desist, I turned to Adad, who had once before mentioned the issue in a very nebulous way.

" _Khaire_ , Ahasver" greeted Adad receiving me at his home.

" _Mega khaire_ , Adad. My thanks for seeing me today."

"It is always an honor to receive such an illustrious and revered friend," he piled on, as he took me to his overly decorated _triclinium,_ "I have asked the cook to prepare us a few tidbits, just a few things from my native Syria which I am certain you will enjoy. Oh yes, and before you ask, let me assure you that it has been done according to your _kashrut_."

I smiled as I saw the banquet that waited for us.

"How would you know, Adad? You have not converted, have you?"

"Of course not, my dear, but I do have some Judaean friends, almost as distinguished as yourself, almost I said, and some of my staff are Judaean too."

As the servants continued to bring even more dishes into the room, Adad pointed to one of the couches where I sat down, while he was already reclining on another.

"May one ask what brings you here, my friend? I find it hard to believe that it is simply a social call, especially during a normal workday. I do know how dedicated you are to your businesses," and with a broad grin he added, "unlike me, of course."

"Adad, my good friend, I am very worried" I came out with it, trying to cut him off from his usual verbosity.

"Well, really ? I do hope that it's not about money, Ahasver" he could really be very irritating when in too good a humor."

"No, Adad," I replied darkly, trying to bring some seriousness into the conversation, "not at all."

"But how can this humble Gentile be of help, my friend?"

Ignoring his jocosity, I plodded on.

"Adad, do you recall a brief conversation we had at my place some time ago, I would say, at that time when we were discussing the increases in the prices of grain?"

"Ahasver, can you not be more precise? I do recall such conversations, yes, but what of it?"

"Adad, that day you mentioned that you had heard certain rumors about me..."

"Ahasver, and what is so alarming about that? There are always rumors going around. You can be sure that later today at the _agora_ people will be discussing what we are now eating!"

"I'm serious, Adad, make an effort. You spoke of weird rumors, absurd things, and when I asked for more information you told me to look at myself. Do you recall? What did you mean?"

"Oh yes! I do remember some of it. But really, Ahasver, nothing for you to worry about..."

"Adad!" I rose, irritated with his flippancy, "This is important to me. Leave that cutlet alone and please answer me seriously!"

"Ahasver, my friend," now gazing attentively at a bowl of steaming mushrooms and fingering the beads on one of his collars, "people talk, my friend, they make up things. Stories. But all nonsense, surely."

"But, what are they saying?" I asked exasperated.

"Do you really want to know? Well... all right, let me see... basically that you practice magic. Some say you bathe in goat's milk... yes, I believe that's the Egyptians who mostly claim that. Others say that you have a pact with Baal... or is it Marduk ? Well, some Babylonian god. Others, less inventive of course, claim that you are a closeted Christian. I've also heard a Publican mention that you had brought a potion from Alexandria... or was it from a temple in Heliopolis, or some other place where they still worship those animal-gods of theirs..." and casting me a sardonic gaze, "Enough? Or do you want to hear more? There's plenty more..."

"That's what the Gentiles are saying ?"

"Mostly, yes. Why? Would you like to know what your Judaean friends are saying?"

"Yes, please... do you know?"

"Well, I have heard something interesting, at least more plausible than that trifle I have just enumerated for you. I have heard it said that you descend from one of your prophets. Tell me, is that the truth? Were there such Judaeans who lived for hundreds of years?"

"Yes, it is written. In truth, my family comes from Babylon, but..."

"I didn't know that, Ahasver. In our legends, we hear of men who lived for many, many years. Aga, for example, of whom it is said that he ruled for more than six hundred years. Gilgamesh was another. But I have always thought they were legends, tales... But you actually have in your scriptures accounts of such longevity?"

"Yes, but Adad, that is very unlikely! All that happened many generations ago. Have you ever heard of such tales in our time? Or even in the time of our fathers and grandfathers?"

"Well, Ahasver, I'm hearing them these days! Actually, if my eyes don't deceive me, I am looking at one now" and having just come to terms with what he had spoken, he rose plainly agitated, "Ahasver ! Have you actually considered what all this means?"

"What?" I muttered in reply.

"Ahasver! I don't even know how to say it! If it's true. If you actually are going to last for hundreds of years... can't you see it? They will make a god out of you! One of the immortals! Kings will call on you. Emperors will want to meet with you. The people will worship you..."

I nervously laughed with all the hyperbole.

"I'm serious, Ahasver. And you know what else ? Everyone, and I do mean everyone, will envy you."

On my way back home, I kept thinking of Adad's words and of the sayings of the people. Philosophers had written about the _vox populi_ , the truth that emanated from common sense, and once more I was the subject of such voices. Once again I had to fight against invisible foes. But unlike Adad, I was not optimistic in believing in the generosity of the populace. Deified? Hardly, much the contrary I thought. The envy that he had wisely remarked would become the reason for strife, and of an inexorable condemnation as a reprobate. I knew all too well how ungenerous the people were with their magnanimity.

A few days later Ruth informed me that Saul was now detained in the city jail. Tired of waiting for me call on her, she paid me a visit.

"But, Ruth, what can I do?"

"Ahasver, you are in the Procurator's and the city council, Surely you can do something. At least request that he be well treated. You could also pay some of the guards to ensure some comfort, proper food..."

"Do you think they care for _kashrut_? He is there because he invoked his rights as a Roman citizen. Did you know that? That he is a Roman citizen?"

"No, I didn't. But what does it matter?"

"It doesn't? Your most eminent preacher is Roman? He that wants to convert Gentiles without having to follow the Law? I can see now why he was so keen on that..."

"He may be Roman, but above all else he is Judaean and a Messianic. In that, Ahasver, you can see how wondrous was the message of Yeshua. It is for everyone..."

"Yes, yes, I've heard all that before."

"Ahasver, please, try and do something for him. He is not young anymore, and he has always had the highest regard for you."

"I'll see what I can do, but no promises" and I certainly wasn't going to intercede on his behalf to the Procurator or any other official. For me, Saul was dangerous. Dangerous for my faith because of his subversive ideas. The ideal solution was to ship him off to Rome, somewhere far away.

Year 58

The council, which usually met on the third day of the month was postponed _sine die_ by Felix. When I questioned Pulanus about the reason, he was vague, invoking that there were other more pressing affairs that he had to deal with first. The second postponement was a clear indication that something was up.

Adad, always in the known, explained.

"Ahasver, weren't you aware that there is a Quaestor in town, sent by Rome?"

"No. What's he doing here? Checking on Felix?"

"I see no other reason! In the end, I'm sure he'll want to raise taxes. That's always the result of their auditing."

"Is that why Felix has been rescheduling the council meetings? Has he mentioned anything to you?"

"I've not seen him lately" he replied equally vague.

But Adad was not as ignorant of the facts as he claimed.

Pallas, Felix's brother, had been Treasury Secretary of the Emperors Claudius and Nero, dismissed recently by the latter. Without the intervention of Pallas, it became noted in Rome that the provincial revenues were not all accounted for, and the Senate had therefore appointed a Quaestor to examine the affairs of the Procurator.

What Adad had conveniently forgot to mention to me, was that Felix had already devised a plan to recover part of the money that he had embezzled, with the connivance of the Greek and Syrian communities.

It all started with some petty robberies and random disturbances in the city, and the targets were always Judaean traders and business owners. Inevitably these grew into further retaliations, some of a religious nature, and I was asked to intervene before the council and alert the Procurator of what was happening.

I appealed to Pulanus, and receiving no answer, I wrote to Felix, but to no avail. Without much else to do, and given the indifference of the authorities to our plight, it was decided to create a group of vigilantes to protect our commerce and the temples. But even then, the disturbances continued. In the city council old rivalries were now violently discussed, and sporadic fights broke out during the sessions.

The violence continued to grow. Once more I appealed to Felix, and once more I got nothing in return. Finally, as a form of protest, and as a last resort, I renounced my seat at the provincial council. Still I received no feedback from the Procurator.

Frustrated, I tried one last step. I visited Adad.

Inconspicuous for some time, he agreed to receive me.

"We have to do something. This situation cannot last for long" I bitterly complained to him.

"Ahasver, my dearest friend. But what can we do?" he replied with his usual theatrics, "The city has gone mad! Any Greek or Syrian who comes close to one of your shops is immediately questioned, and sometimes even beaten by that gang of thugs you have recruited."

"They are not thugs, Adad. And you know all too well why we had to resort to them."

"I know what you are going to tell me, my dearest friend. But it is not true. We are not the ones who are against you. Not at all. Violence is so bad for business. For all of us!"

"What's the word in your community?"

"Ahasver, I have told you. Everyone dislikes the situation. We are all against it."

"I would like to believe it, Adad. Honestly, I do. But then help us. Let us devise some way to stop this madness."

"Ahasver, I think that it is time that we have a stronger representation in the city council."

"I don't understand..."

"Ahasver, you, the Judaeans have always ruled this city. Have you forgotten the incidents when you people tried to stop all trading on your _Shabbat_? This city is also ours."

"Adad, this city was built by a Judaean King and is in Judaea. Is there anything more tangible than that? This is not part of Syria or Greece..."

"If this town only belonged to you, as is the case with Jerusalem and others, King Herod wouldn't have built the temples, adorned them with statuary and effigies, nor given us, the Gentiles, the freedom to follow our own way. Not to speak of the _agora,_ where you can hear the lectures and the oratory of sages and philosophers that you call pagans. And besides all this, long before Herod got here, there was a Syrian community of fishermen that he almost annihilated."

"I still don't get it, Adad. Why this sudden interest in the council? What do you really want?"

"We want our rights too. We need to have a strong word within that council."

"But you have always had a presence in the council."

"All that we have today is the result of long fights and endless persuasion. We are not giving up the rights and privileges that should be rightfully ours," and in a calmer voice he continued, "Ahasver, I know you, you have always been a moderate, and one of the few voices of reason, but you are part of a very small minority. Your fellow Judaeans are nothing like you. You have always been a tolerant man, and it is known of your fondness for Hellenism. Of your trips to Alexandria and Antioch. Even your tolerance with the Christians. Believe me, you are not as popular among your people as you imagine, and all that because of your moderation. If you weren't so wealthy, they would have given up on you already."

"It's your opinion," I said morosely, "I don't see it that way."

"There are things that are always more evident for outsiders. Believe me, my dearest friend. You have few friends. But don't fret too much, such is our destiny, the fate of the envied."

THE AMBASSADOR

Year 58

The disturbances did not dampen. Accusations multiplied in the council, and there was little to be done. We had days with unruly mobs gathering in front of the house. Judaeans came to protest, and Gentiles to demonstrate, and vice-versa. Ioanis, afraid for my security, recruited some more guards, and I could hardly step outside unmolested. In the midst of all that, Felix publicly admonished the Judaeans, calling for moderation and threatening to unleash the Pretorian guards.

Soon enough came the accusations, trials and punishments. Some were lashed in public squares, and the older were banished from the city, and even from the province itself. Not by chance, these were usually the wealthier, treated as criminals, their properties confiscated by the Pretorium. And the more we knew of these actions, the more the mobs resorted to violence.

The Quaestor, Helvidius Priscus, still in the city, eventually called the representatives of the various communities to a meeting. Unfortunately, I was one of the summoned. After long hours of bickering, with Felix strangely silent, Priscus interrupted the boisterous gathering.

" _Honorabiles_!" intervened in his orator's voice, "Please calm down!"

Ensuring that he had everyone's attention, he continued.

"It is too obvious that we are not going to resolve these disputes by ourselves. I am aware of your general complaints," and staring at the more vociferous of us, "but I am not content with the individual issues of your communities. The truth is that this city is in an ever growing state of anarchy and chaos."

Surely, Felix was not pleased to hear that, and it showed on his face.

"I am now in Judaea, as you know, by the request and command of the Senate of Rome. Now, it is my command that a delegation be formed to accompany me to Rome, so that you may submit your issues to the Senate or, if need be, to the Emperor himself. Rome cannot allow this state of anarchy to go on much longer. By tomorrow morning, I want your communities to elect delegates and notify me of their names. It is all for now. You are dismissed."

On my way out from the palace, Adad, who had also attended the meeting, came up to me.

"Ahasver, a word if I may" and drew me out from the group.

"Yes, Adad?"

"Will you be going to Rome?"

"I don't know. We are now going to discuss that."

"But it is only natural that you be one of the selected. You are a good speaker of latin. There aren't many Judaeans who speak it so well as you"

"It won't be because of that. I'm sure they have translators in Rome."

"I think you will be chosen."

"Are you going?" I asked.

"Me? I don't want to. Leave my businesses, waste a few months to be heard for five minutes? It won't solve much."

"Why not? What do you really know of this decision by the Quaestor?"

"It is rumored that he will be asking for the dismissal of Felix. After all, not even all that has been expropriated so far is enough to cover the shortfall in the public treasury."

"What are you talking about?"

"Do not ask me, and I won't have to lie to you" and regretting his words he quickly went on his way.

There it was! Could that have been the reason for the disturbances? Was it all just a way for Felix to recover what was missing from the treasury? All the complaints, the rioting, the deaths and the banishments. All orchestrated by Felix, for his own personal gain? If it was true, then some of our citizens, thinking of the Greeks and Syrians, also had a hand on it.

Encouraged by Priscus's apparent authority over Felix, my colleagues were now absolutely convinced of the importance of this mission to Rome for our cause. I tried to curb their enthusiasm, as I remembered the conversation with Adad, but to no avail. And as predicted, I was one of the proposed nominees for that mission. If, on the one hand, I was skeptical about the all thing, I also had to admit that I was willing to take the time and the effort to see Rome.

As soon as the names were made known to Priscus, he sent for me.

"Quaestor" I greeted him when we met later in the afternoon of the following day.

"Master Ahasver."

Priscus was the very first Roman Senator I had ever met, and his garments, more than his aspect, clearly showed his rank and status, sporting a toga of snowy white cotton, red stripes embroidered in his tunic and red shoes. He was not a tall man, his hair was also sparse, and he had an unusual short beard. He used his voice well to gain attention, certainly tuned by the many sessions of public oratory in that most exalted institution to which he belonged

"Master Ahasver, I thank you for coming over so promptly. I promise not to take too much of your time."

"Quaestor, I am at your service" I answered, as if I had any saying or alternative to his summons.

"I called you here to inform you that I have chosen you to be part of the delegation. Just you. I am aware that your council selected a few names, but I prefer to take only one member from each community. I am a firm believer that a single voice of reason and pragmatism is more efficient than the emotional clamor of a crowd. Besides, I am too aware of all your efforts in the past to curb some of the extreme elements in your own community. Also, I have no doubt that your case must be presented to the senate. I do believe that your community has suffered enough under this government."

"I do understand and thank you for your words, Quaestor. I just did what any conscientious citizen would do."

"Indeed. I can see why some call you a philosopher."

"They exaggerate, Quaestor. Far from that. I merely have an inquisitive mind" it seemed that I had been investigated. Trust the Romans to be thorough.

"Well, I hope that during our journey we can talk some more. These sea voyages are most monotonous."

"It will be my privilege, Quaestor."

We still exchanged a few more words, specifically in regard to details concerning the trip, and I got the permission from Priscus to engage a secretary, thinking of Alexander, my usual companion on these grand voyages. I just had to persuade Ioanis to prescind of his son, lately one of his main helpers.

And there was Ruth.

"Ahasver," she said when I went to say my goodbyes, "what about Saul? I have no news of him. The guards are not allowing any visitors anymore."

"I didn't even know that you were allowed to visit prisoners."

"No? We thought you had arranged it."

"No, I didn't. You know how busy, and troubled have been these last few months."

"No, I do not know. All this time and not a word of appeal from you to the Procurator?"

"I'm not exactly in very good terms with the Procurator."

"No? But you have just been invited to go to Rome."

"Not by the Procurator. By the Quaestor, I told you this."

"I see."

But evidently, she did not.

"When do you leave?"

"In a few days time. Soon after _Shabbat_ , I believe."

"Won't it be dangerous, Ahasver? Such a long voyage."

"There are always risks, but we are going under the Senate's protection and in a military ship. It will be a fast trip."

"And this Quaestor? Couldn't you speak to him about Saul?"

Couldn't she think of anything else ?

"I will try, I will try to speak with him," ambiguous once again, "but I am not optimistic. There is Felix."

"But doesn't a Quaestor carry more authority than a Procurator?"

"Yes, in some matters. But the Procurator still commands the military."

"Do try, Ahasver. Saul is not well."

"He is better there than he was in Jerusalem," one had to be positive, "or don't you agree?"

"We just cannot understand why they don't take him to trial."

"I don't know either" I was growing tired of that indefatigable haranguing for Saul's sake.

"I am just talking, Ahasver. You might not look it, but you are getting old and querulous," and she went on, "and what is this story I hear about your family being descendants of the prophet Abraham?"

"My family?" I feigned some surprise and hid a smile. After all my tactics were paying off, although invoking Abraham as an ancestor was a bit more than I had wanted "And where did you hear such nonsense?"

"It's all over town."

"Very strange. How these people like to make up such trite. Who has ever heard me say such a thing?"

"I don't know, Ahasver. But it's going around."

"A mystery, Ruth. It can only be some lunatic, or someone out to harm me. You know how the _Kohanim_ get edgy with such things, and if they hear about it I can be criticized. I'm glad you told me."

I certainly had to correct that reference and find some other possible and less known ancestor for my purposes.

We set sail on the day after the trireme arrived at the harbor. The weather was pleasant and not too windy, and the 120 rowers on board soon placed us beyond the sight of land. On board, besides the crew and some military personnel, was the delegation and the Quaestor, with his usual retinue of servants and secretaries. Priscus, trying to put an end to any questions of favoritism to one or another group, had only allowed that each community be represented by a single delegate. And given that the space on the ship was limited, I shared my quarters with Alexander.

Although adversaries in the defense of our own interests, my other colleagues proved to be pleasant companions, some even tried to convince Alexander as to the justness of their complaints. But with no success. Alexander was not interested in taking sides, and after befriending one of the Greek helmsmen, he spent much of the journey learning about the steering, the stars and of Rome. Knowledge that he used to share with me during meal times.

Priscus seldom appeared on deck during the day time, preferring to pass it in his quarters. I think he had some problems with nausea and seasickness. However, when the sea was calm and hidden in the darkness of the night, he would come up and join us by one of the braziers that the sailors used to light on the deck.

Priscus was above all else, a genuine pedagogue. If anyone asked his opinion on any subject, he would gladly share his knowledge. But he was also a curious soul, a trait that he claimed to admire in others. A sure sign of a shrewd mind and a versatile intellect, as he claimed. And these talks were usually held in Greek, as few were sufficiently familiar with latin to find the right words needed for the various topics. It was thus that I learned of the customs of the patricians of Rome, of the equestrian order, of the worship of Mithra adopted mainly by the military, and of the sacrifices of sacred bulls to Jupiter.

We spoke of our voyages and discoveries, adventures and incidents were retold, the charms and wonder of far away places were described in flowery languages, and of the mysteries that were practiced by secluded cultures and distant civilizations. And each one of us spoke of our own culture and its achievements.

The Greeks praised their own learning and their accomplishments in the arts, sciences and philosophy.

The Syrians, proud of their voyages of exploration, invoked the glory and the extension of their former empire, once spread from the pillars of Hercules up to the Hellespont.

The Persians described the splendor of the palaces of Persepolis and Ctesiphon, the hanging gardens of Babylon and of the ziggurats that rose up to the clouds.

The Egyptians exalted the grandeur of their river cities, grandiose temples and the millenary antiquity of pharaonic dynasties, forever immortalized in colossal statuary and in tombs of awe-inspiring architecture.

And me? Well, I spoke of the indefatigable perseverance of Moses, of the wars in the land of Canaan and of the founding of our kingdom. I gave examples of the wisdom of Solomon, builder of the most magnificent temple of his age. But it always sounded too little when compared with the deeds and achievements of the others.

But, independently of anyone's opinion or passion, Priscus would not allow these talks to divert into political and religious themes, knowing all too well how such matters could quickly put an end to these cordial conversations, usually accompanied with the soft rhythmic drumming of the rowers in nights lit by the milky glow of the myriad stars that accompanied us.

After several days of sailing, following the course of the sun, we came upon the immensity of the arid coast of Africa, dotted with small hamlets where occasionally one could discern some larger rustic constructions. It was the desert that we were now seeing in that horizon of opaque honey, a sea of sand, of dunes and of impenetrable clouds. The land of thirst, as the sailors named it.

Coming ever more tangent to the coastline, new bluffs and promontories rose before our eyes, whipped by relentless and thunderous waves that gave way to secluded coves and expansive beaches. Soon we were in front of the moles of the harbor of Apollonia, where a run-down theatre could be seen on our left side, and a lighthouse towered over the granaries and warehouses on our right. We had now completed half the journey to Rome.

Following on Priscus's orders, our stay in the port was brief, just sufficient to replenish our water and food supplies, and with dusk approaching, we were once more sailing in high seas, now pursuing the Cynosure towards the Italic peninsula and Rome.

Luck and fortune continued to accompany us, the sea was calm, and a gentle wind, born in the crucible of the desert, filled the square sails and pushed us northwards. The drumming stopped for some days.

" _Salve_ Quaestor" I greeted Priscus, surprised to find him so early in the morning on deck.

"Master Ahasver, the auspices are excellent!"

"The auspices?" I asked, intrigued by that statement. Had he been consulting with his gods?

"Ah, Master Ahasver, It seems you are an unbeliever in omens. Look over there," pointing to the sky, where a distant bird could be seen, "you know what kind of bird that is?"

"I cannot say at this distance. But it looks like a bird of prey, given its long wingspan."

"Yes, it is! A fish eagle, I would say. An omen, certainly."

"A good one, you believe."

"Oh yes, Jupiter himself is protecting and guiding us."

"That's reassuring," I remarked casually, "and are you feeling better?"

"Always perceptive, my friend. And yes, I am indeed. The first few days at sea are always difficult for me. I am a man of the land, of farming, of husbandry..."

"And of the Senate, too" I added jokingly.

Smiling, he grabbed my arm, and he drove me towards an awning, close to the bow, where chairs had been laid about.

"Let us sit for a moment before your colleagues arrive. I would like to speak with you."

"Of course, Quaestor."

"Master Ahasver, I have wanted to speak alone with you for some time, as I need to confess something. I know you are not going to be pleased with what I have to say, but I also hope that you will understand my motives."

"Please do, Quaestor" I encouraged him, surprised with such candor.

"A few weeks after I arrived in Caesarea, it was clear to me that the Procurator had to be replaced. It came to my knowledge the various ruses, the extortions and other money grubbing tricks practiced by him and his entourage, not to mention some more serious acts committed against the city. More so against your people," and he continued, "But you have to understand that my mandate only covers the auditing of administrative and fiscal affairs. Whom the Senate appoints, only the Senate or the Emperor may exonerate."

"Are you saying that this mission was set to testify before the Senate on the procurator's misdeeds?"

"Well deduced, Master Ahasver. But only if I cannot convince my colleagues of this need, or if they demand more conclusive evidence. Only then will I call on this delegation."

"You mean, we might not even go before the Senate?"

"Yes."

"And the problems, the civic unrest in Caesarea? All that violence and mayhem that you witnessed there?"

"Those can easily be solved with the severe application of the law."

"But, why hasn't it happen yet?" I asked perplexed with such a seemingly simple solution.

"Because I believe that Felix is behind all that. And as long as he stays in charge, those issues won't be resolved."

"Have you spoken of this to my other colleagues?"

"Not yet. I'm telling you now because you are in a particular predicament. I know that all your colleagues believe that the Judaeans are at the root and the leading cause of all these troubles in your city."

"Is that your opinion too, Quaestor?"

"Partially. I do know you are a most querulous people in some situations. But I think you were provoked into acting the way you did. But if the Senate hears the others, I fear that your community may lose some privileges and might even be heavily fined for misconduct."

"I understand."

"But as I have said, I hope it will not come to that."

As we were still alone, we continued to speak of other matters. Priscus recounted the time he spent in Greece, as Quaestor in Patras, on the northern coast of the Peloponnese peninsula. I mentioned my trip to Alexandria, which he had also visited, of Antioch, which he did not know, and of Jerusalem, which he would have liked to visit.

"Quaestor," I asked, "what can you briefly tell me of Rome. Not of the city itself, but of the main customs and the temperament of its citizens. I admit that I am a bit curious and anxious."

"But why, Master Ahasver. There is nothing for you to fear in Rome."

"Quaestor, as children, we learned to fear Rome. Do not misunderstand me, but after all, Rome is the mother city of our conquerors."

"Your enemy, you mean?"

"I wouldn't say that much, but there are many who do, as I'm sure you know. Didn't you also come across this feeling in Greece?"

"I understand, but I would like you to think of Rome as a protective mother, sheltering and accepting all peoples. Master Ahasver, we are above all else, the guarantors of peace and progress. _Pax romana_ is not an empty cliché. You are an educated man, a man who has read history, who has traveled and seen other cultures, and I am sure you have read some texts that described how the world was before Rome. Incessant wars, eternal disputes for lands smaller than my farm, the fratricides, the barbarous deeds committed in the name of unscrupulous gods and egotistical ideologies."

"A truly stoic vision, if I may say," I said it smiling, "and all that in exchange for innumerable taxes and levies."

"You may be right, and yours is a true mercantilist vision, worthy of a merchant, I would say. But I think you will agree with me that commerce is a bulwark for peace. Enemies don't trade with one another."

"Undeniable your argument, Quaestor."

"Your problem, Ahasver, the problem with the Judaeans, is your inflexibility. Your reluctance in accepting the cultural differences of others, your negation in adapting to the world around you. I saw that very clearly in Achaea, this isolation of the Judaeans. It is not because the others reject you, but because of your own desire and efforts to remain apart."

"We have our customs, Quaestor, just as the Romans have theirs, and the Greeks. We want to preserve them, not to lose our identity. Is that so hard to accept?"

"Pride, Ahasver, immeasurable pride with your faith and your one god, that's what I think. I met some Judaeans, not just in Patras but also in Rome, who very conceitedly explained to me that you are the only chosen people in this world. By your own god, of course. But then, I ask, if only yourselves follow this god, who else could he have chosen?"

"Maybe the Romans, Quaestor" and we both smiled.

But suddenly, we both realized that we were now entering the so fragile issue of religion, and desisted to proceed further. Also, some of my colleagues had now come up to the deck and were approaching us. But it had been, I thought, an interesting talk, and a very rare one, between a Judaean and a Roman. I was happy to have met Priscus, a most humorous, perceptive, tolerant and charming Senator.

"There, over there..." pointed Alexander, "Ahasver, can you see it?"

"I can see land."

"No, Ahasver, more to the right."

"A city?" I asked, half-blind with the clarity.

"Yes, I'm told it's Syracuse. We're arriving."

"If it's Syracuse, we are still far from Rome."

"No so much..."

Gradually we came closer to the cliffs of a giant headland. The city, set on a peaceful and calm cove, shined brightly under that midday sun, and with no delay, the ship berthed unto the pier. Once more, Priscus did not allow anyone to disembark, and after seeing to the ship's replenishment, we continued our journey, much to Alexander's chagrin, as he would have liked to explore the city of Archimedes.

"Ahasver, how will we return home? In this ship too?"

"Maybe. I've never before travelled on the Senate's business. We'll have to see with Priscus."

"I would have liked to visit some of these cities we passed on our way."

After Syracuse, we soon reached the region of Messana, passing through a narrow strait where we could see on the other side the city of Rhegium and the rocky hills of ancient Bruttium. Now, I said to Alexander, we are seeing Italy.

Continuing northwards, now always in sight of land, the sailors pointed out the main sights, some too distant for us to see in much detail.

"Over there is Paestum, a city more Greek than Roman," said one of them, "as you can see by the temples up on that hill."

"Those rocks over there is the island of Capri" pointed Priscus, "From there Tiberius ruled the empire for many years. An abominable place!"

"Why, Quaestor?" asked Alexander, "It's beautiful from here."

"Well, the stories one hears of those days" but he did not venture more information.

"And that mountain, there, on the horizon?"

"That's mount Vesuvius. Over there, by that bay, is the city of Neapolis."

Now close to our final destination, Priscus called a meeting with everyone, to inform us of the proceedings and arrangements for our transportation to Rome, where we would be lodged in the Senate's guesthouse.

Although prepared for the grandeur of Rome, I could not help being awed with the port of Portus and the city of Ostia.

"We are mooring in Portus," explained Priscus, "it's only a couple of leagues from Ostia. I am curious to see how the construction is progressing."

"It's a new harbor?" I asked.

"Yes, relatively new. It has been some time since I passed through here. For the trip to Caesarea I embarked in Antium, but I was here in the time of Claudius, when the building began, and although it has been officially dedicated by Nero, parts of it are not yet ready. You'll see Ahasver, a truly magnificent undertaking."

So it was. Two giant breakwaters with a lighthouse on one of its extremities, embraced a large lagoon where could be seen dozens of vessels, mainly cargo ships, awaiting for berthing space. The number of warehouses and granaries, clustered about the piers was astounding too. All looking very new, making a strong contrast between the reddish rooftops and their white facades, and in the center of the harbor, a colossal colonnade revealed a palace still under construction.

"Yes," confirmed Priscus to Alexander, "one of the imperial residences."

"But the harbor is full. Wont we have to wait our turn?"

"No, Alexander, we will be mooring over there, where the _castrum_ is."

"By those triremes?"

"Yes."

But we still had to wait for another ship, a bireme, to leave and free some space for us.

Priscus, now wearing his senatorial attire, was saluted by an officer who had come on board with a small number of legionnaires. After a brief exchange, we were asked to disembark and were taken to one of the side buildings where Priscus asked us to wait for his return.

While we waited, they served us a light meal and some refreshments, very much within the custom of the military, nothing too tasty or too generous. I was anxious, not hungry, so some olives in wild sage oil and a cup of resinous wine were quite enough for me.

The sound of approaching hurried steps and the neigh of horses signaled the return of Priscus, and we were taken to a courtyard where some litters and carriages waited for us.

"All is now ready," announced Priscus, "I've sent a messenger on to Rome announcing our arrival and also to prepare your quarters."

"Where will we be staying, Senator?" someone in the group asked.

"In a guesthouse close to the _forum_ and the _curia_."

"The main _forum_ of Rome?" asked Alexander.

"Yes, Alexander, in the center of the city. All of you are guests of the Senate, and therefore you will all stay in this house. Although you are not Roman citizens, you are under the protection of the Empire. Let us now go without further delay and see if we can reach the city before nightfall. You can use these litters, and your servants and the luggage can go on those carriages over there.

The litters, the biggest I had ever seen, were carried by mules and asses, and could easily take up to four or five passengers. Alexander, not being a servant, traveled with me, and since neither of our colleagues cared to join us in the same litter, we had plenty of room to spread out.

We left Portus, in the company of a small convoy of guards, headed for Ostia and the Via Ostiense, the main road to Rome. Priscus, surprising everyone, asked for a horse for himself, alleging that he needed the exercise after so many idle days spent on board the ship, riding most of the way by our side, pointing out the sights, and describing some of the buildings and their use to us.

"Ahasver," said Alexander utterly awed by all we could see, "it's magnificent!"

So it was. The center of Ostia was lined with marble temples, _insulae_ built of sturdy brick and wood with several floors, marketplaces with the most unimaginable range of products, and the streets teeming with people of all colors and hues, going about their business in leisurely strolls. I could now understand the main purpose of our escort, shouting for the pedestrians to make way for our passage. But mostly we were ignored, although some of them were clearly amused by seeing an old Senator on a horse.

We arrived in Rome as the sun was almost setting, and with the sparse light of dusk, we could now hardly distinguish some of the main buildings, faintly reflecting the last rays of the day. Priscus abandoned his horse and climbed into our litter, and went on describing some of the larger shadowy edifices. The more lit parts of the city were now the _insulae_ , even bigger and higher than the ones we had seen in Ostia, and in between the columns and porticoes, we could see people sitting down on long tables, where food and drinks were laid out.

"These are _thermopolia_ and _tabernae,_ " explained Priscus, "but heed my advice, don't make use of them. They are dangerous places, more so for foreigners."

"Why is that?"

"They are only used by the riffraff of the city. If you want to drink or eat, you should use the facilities at the guesthouse, or, on your walkabouts, you can go to the marketplaces to drink. But avoid eating out."

"Senator," I asked, "are there any Judaean temples in the city?"

"Of course there are, Ahasver. There's one in Ostia that I know of. But I will get some information for you on that."

"Is there a Judaean quarter or some particular part of town where they live?"

"I believe that the vast majority live on the Caelian hill, close to the Porta Capena."

"Is it far from where we will be staying?" asked Alexander.

"Not too far and not too close, either. You can always hire a sedan chair or a litter, but once again please be careful, Rome is not Caesarea."

No, evidently not.

The guesthouse where we were to remain was also an _insula_ , but the whole building was in marble and not brick, and on the ground floor the porticoes were complemented with arcades and open spaces for leisurely activities and repose. The rooms were large and luxuriously appointed, and the servants were extremely helpful. Most were fluent in Greek too.

From our quarter's window, we could see the rooftops of the temples of Jupiter and Minerva, and on the horizon, on top of a hill, large marbled buildings dominated the small vale of the _forum_. Those were the imperial residences.

In mid-morning, Priscus returned with a few officials, enquiring after our conditions and giving us some additional advice. He was on his way to see the Praetor responsible for the territories of the East and the Levant, and to set a timetable for his reporting to the Senate.

On his way out, he called me apart.

"Ahasver, later I'll come around and we'll go to my house. I'm giving a small dinner this evening, and I would like for you to meet with some of my friends" and seeing my look of surprise, he added, "Don't worry, it's nothing too elaborate, just some friends that are interested in our cause."

"Just me, Senator?"

"Just you."

The rest of the day, not wanting to be far from our quarters, I spent in the company of Alexander walking around the area of the _forum_. We visited the temples of Castor and of the divine Julius Caesar. We took a quick glance into the round temple of the Vestals, hidden behind long and heavy curtaining, watched a ritual performed on one of the external altars of the temple of Concord, and listened to speeches and declamations on the vast _atrium_ of the Basilica Julia. Lastly, we went into a small market on the via Argiletum, behind the main building of the Senate, where Alexander persuaded me to buy a gown to wear at Priscus' dinner, since togas were only wore by Roman citizens.

After a short trip in an urban litter, carried by slaves, I arrived with Priscus at his home. After all I had seen so far in Rome, I was a little surprised with the modest aspect of his residence. I expected that the _domus_ of such a distinguished official of the Empire would have been grander But within, it did match my expectations. The refinement was evident in the pastel-colored frescoes that decorated most of the walls, and on the fine detail of the mosaics, not to mention the large number of magnificent statues that could be seen displayed around the pond in the main _atrium_.

Waiting for us were two servants, who took us to his _triclinium,_ where couches and divans were laid around small tables loaded with dishes filled with morsels of various delicacies. Pointing to one of couches, I sat down while Priscus asked for the wine to be served, an almost warm, sweet, resinous Greek mix, and we waited for the first guests to arrive.

"Ahasver, as I told you before, my purpose at this moment is to have the Senate remove Felix from Judaea, and this dinner with some of my closer friends and allies in the Senate, will also help us. Some are already convinced of this need, but there are others who are reticent or even friendly disposed towards Pallas and his brother. That is why your testimonial could be important tonight. All we actually want to hear is your account of the various problems in Caesarea.

"But, Senator," I replied, yet skeptic, "do you really believe that what I have to say will sway them? I am a Judaean after all, and therefore one of the interested parties in all this.

"I think you can be quite persuasive. At the very least, it will show that my recommendations are based on actual events. We are all honorable men here, they are not expecting you to make false statements to further your interests. We must emphasize the mismanagement of Felix in regards to the whole of Judaea."

"And if the others, in the delegation, are questioned by the Senate? They could paint a distorted picture of the same events."

"Your account must be impartial. It must stand on facts that the others can also confirm. I don't want you to speak only for the Judaeans, but for all. If I have to put the others in the witness stand, I will make sure that their intervention will be equally neutral.

Soon enough, the first guests started to arrive, and Priscus left me to receive them.

The general discussion was now of politics, mainly of events in the city, and I could contribute little. I took the time to observe the guests. Most were of Priscus's generation, with the exception of a younger patrician who looked my age. His name was Marcus Nerva, a member of a distinguished family of imperial officials, and recently appointed to the Senate, according to Priscus.

Not much of a talker, he was nonetheless intrigued with my presence.

"I think you are the first Judaean I have ever met" he revealed, as he continued sipping that awful wine.

"But I believe that there are also Judaeans in Rome, Senator" I answered politely.

"Oh yes, there are indeed. Too many, even. Mostly a bunch of contemptible creatures. Tradesmen of ill repute, mendicants and even some bankers of vile nature," he suddenly, realizing that he was addressing one of them, quickly added, "I mean no disrespect to you personally."

"Well, Senator, I can assure you that I have also met some very rude people in Rome, and they are not Judaeans" I answered with as little subtlety as I could master.

"Yes, yes. I do believe you. But tell me, if I understood Priscus correctly, you have come to Rome to ask for the dismissal of a Roman official?"

"I'm here in the service of the Senate" I said neutrally.

"My father asked me to come here tonight, but I still don't understand what is Priscus's intention."

"I am sure that the Senator will explain it all."

"I do hope so! And soon. I'm expected at the Palatine tonight, you know. How these elders talk on and on!"

It almost seemed as if Priscus heard him, for not long after he asked for silence and started to speak of his visit to Judaea and of the result of his audit into the affairs of Felix. Sometimes he would look at me, soliciting my views or acquiescence on some facts, and he soon finished by asking them to support his plea in the Senate for the dismissal of the Procurator.

Some senators actually did ask for confirmation of some of the facts, and I think that I answered them truthfully and convincingly. At least Priscus seemed satisfied with the outcome, and soon the dinner was over. Already on my way out, Priscus asked Nerva to take me back to the guesthouse, since it was on the way to the Palatine.

The cold night air helped to clear my head, and my senses, and more settled I climbed unto Nerva's litter with no further missteps. He was already laying there with a wine cup in his hand. Incredible, how much they drank!

"Climb up, climb" he encouraged me, "where's your cup? Not drinking anymore? No, I can see that" and giving the proper instructions to his slaves we got on our way to the _forum_.

"Tell me, this is your first time in Rome?"

"Yes, Senator."

"Do you like our city?"

"Yes, Senator."

"It surely must be very different from your own city."

"Yes, Senator."

"Tell me, you Judaeans only have one god?"

"Yes, Senator."

"That is most awkward! Can't you afford more?" chuckling with his own wit, he carried on, "I can't understand that. I've heard that the Parthians also have only one god. Do you have temples where you come from?"

"Yes, Senator."

"My great-grandfather was Governor of all Asia. All of it. That's how I know of the Parthians. He practically built the city of Antioch single-handedly. You know Antioch?"

"Yes, Senator."

"A nice city, so I have been told. But very licentious, isn't it?"

"Yes, Senator."

"Well, no wonder then, most of its citizens are Greeks, and we do know what to expect from the Greeks, don't we?"

"Yes, Senator."

"I honestly don't know what would happen to those people out there without our discipline and our culture. Well, we have arrived, Master Ahasverus. I did enjoy this talk with you. You are a most excellent conversationalist. Have a good night. Maybe we'll see each other again soon."

"Yes, Senator."

Yes indeed, a most stimulating conversation, but then, after all he had spoken about the Judaeans, I certainly wasn't going to pamper the Roman.

In the absence of further news from Priscus, we spent the next few days walking and getting to know more of the city, and I even managed to find a synagogue near the Circus Maximus. I decided to go in for praying, while Alexander waited in a _tabernae_ under the porticoes of the great arena.

I had never seen much religiosity on Alexander's part, so I was surprised when he asked if we could go to the temple of Isis and Serapis, where he deposited a wreath by the base of the statue of the god.

"It's not for me, Ahasver, but for father."

"I understand, Alexander."

"Are there Nazarenes in Rome?"

"I don't know. I believe there are some," recalling Ruth's words about Saul, "but no one has mentioned them to me."

"But they will come, Ahasver. Have you noticed how many temples we have seen in our short walks?"

"Yes. Pagans and sects are aplenty in this city."

"Well, it is a very prudent city, that I can say."

"What do you mean?"

"I meant, protected. Protected by gods. All of them have setup shop here" he said laughing.

"What are you saying ?" I admonished him, "That's no way of talking about the gods. Tell me, you are not a very devout believer, are you?"

"You really want to know?"

"Certainly!"

"But don't mention it to father Ioanis, right?"

"No, I won't."

"I am not a believer at all. I think I was, when I was younger I do remember believing in gods, but these days I only have doubts and questions about them."

"Why don't you talk to some priest about them?"

"It's no use. They won't be able to explain it."

"How do you know if you don't try it first."

"Ahasver, tell me something," and he went on, "was it your god who caused that stone to hit Yeshua in his forehead?"

"Of course not! Where did you get such an idea?"

"Then why didn't he stop it?"

"Do I really need an answer to such a silly question?"

"You see, you don't have an answer too."

"You know what the answer to such a feeble argument is."

"Yes, I do know. I do know that, at that time there were no gods nearby. Because if there were, how could they have allowed for such a thing to happen?"

"It's called fate, Alexander. It was destined to happen."

"Then what are gods good for, if they don't even control fate?"

And somehow I suddenly remembered the words of Gamaliel, when he predicted the downfall of paganism due to rational thinking and philosophical questioning.

One afternoon, as we were leaving the theatre of Pompey, where we had been watching some uninspired _ludi_ , we came across Senator Nerva and a small entourage of noble patricians.

" _Salve_ , Master Ahasverus" he saluted.

" _Salve_ , Senator Marcus Nerva. How are you, sir?" surprised to see that he remembered me and partly my name.

"I didn't know that Master Ahasverus was an adept of our theatre. I must admit, you are a most intriguing person."

What could one answer to that?

But Nerva, turning to his followers, remarked. "Master Ahasverus here is a Judaean. But a genuine and noble Judaean, not one of those we have in the city. A real ambassador from Judaea."

" _Salvete_ , gentlemen" I greeted them amiably, returning the expected courtesies of a genuine Romanized Judaean, while Alexander observed all with a tight-lipped smile.

There really wasn't much more to be said between us, so we moved on after some last inconsequential words.

"Who was that Roman, ambassador Ahasverus? A Senator also?"

"Don't make fun. Yes, a true and pompous Senator of the republic."

"And the women too?"

"Senators? No Alexander, who has ever heard of women senators?"

"I don't know. These Romans are capable of anything. But they were pretty, oh yes."

"Would you consider marrying one of them, Alexander? A Roman girl, I mean."

"It would depend on how large her dowry was."

"That's why you Greeks have such shameful reputations."

"Who says that?"

"That same Senator."

"Really? May Hades welcome him soon."

"You are a believer after all!" I remarked mockingly.

"In hell, yes"

We only saw Priscus again some days later in a ceremony that was held by the _rostra_ of Augustus Caesar. We had arrived from one of our walks when we were surprised by a large number of legionnaires surrounding the area of the _forum_ , and only managed to pass through after explaining who we were and the nature of our business in the neighborhood. Too conspicuous in that crowd, we took refuge on the stairs in front of the Basilica Emiliana.

From that vantage point, we could see a great number of Senators, all too evident in their white togas with deep reddish stripes, and also many patrician women, wearing pastel-colored dresses, some with veils around their faces. For us, used to noisier and rowdy crowds, it was strange to see such a well behaved group, virtually silent, and attentively listening to a speech that we were not able to hear, proffered by an old Senator in front of the old temple of Saturn.

When the speech ended, they all dispersed quite rapidly, many walking towards the streets that led off the _forum_ , and others going up the hill to the Palatine. With nothing more of interest to retain us there, we also went towards the _insula_ where we were staying, and as we came closer to the building of the _curia_ , Alexander saw Priscus in a group with other officials.

" _Salvete_ , Ahasver and Alexander."

" _Salve_ , Senator."

"You were watching?" he asked.

"Yes, but we couldn't hear the speech" I answered.

"Well, you didn't miss much, believe me."

"Who was the speaker, Senator?" asked Alexander.

"One of our older Senators and this year's Consul, Marcus Valerius Corvinus. A former brother-in-law of the Emperor Claudius, and brother to the infamous Messalina."

Not aware of Roman customs, I asked.

"An important announcement? We saw that the _forum_ was well protected and full of guards."

"Nothing extraordinary, just the announcement of the Consular games."

"And it attracts this much attention?"

"Usually no, but the speech was to be delivered by the Emperor himself. He is the other Consul this year. But something detained him, and Marcus Valerius had to do it on his own."

"That's a shame. I would have liked to see the Emperor, wouldn't you, Ahasver?"

"Maybe we'll get a chance of seeing him one of these days."

"I'm afraid not, Ahasver," replied Priscus, "the Senate has ruled decisively on our matter. Felix has been replaced by a new Procurator, Porcius Festus, a most just and upright person, I can tell you. Your delegation will soon leave with him."

"What will happen to Felix?" I asked.

"Nothing much, he will probably be out of a job for some time. But don't you worry about him, he still has influential friends and a lot of money too. His brother Pallas might not be an Imperial Secretary anymore, but he is still a powerful man in Rome."

"And thus, Senator, your mission is done."

"And so it is, Ahasver, and yours too."

"What little we did," complained Alexander, "we weren't even taken before the Senate."

"Don't think like that, Alexander. I told Ahasver it could happen this way. Your presence was important. You were not brought to testify because Pallas pulled some strings. It was not in his interest to make publicly known his brother's peccadillos."

"Has a date been set for our return, Senator?"

"Not yet. But it will be a matter of days, a week at most."

As Priscus had foreseen, a few days later the delegation was informed, by an official of the Senate, of the date of our departure, and in the afternoon of the day before, Priscus invited me once again for a dinner party at his house.

"Ahasver, I would like very much for you to come. I insist."

"But of course, Senator. How can I refuse?"

"Well, you could," he said smiling and visibly happy with my acquiescence, "and this time, no politics, just conversation. I want you to meet my father-in-law, Publius Thrasea, and his nephew, Aulus Perseus. They have just arrived from Pamphylia, and they are most eager to meet you. I also invited Porcius Festus, but he hasn't yet confirmed his presence."

"The new Procurator for Judaea?"

"Yes. You can meet him there."

"One more and very compelling argument for me to attend."

At the appointed hour, I announced myself to one of Priscus' slaves as he opened that redwood door. This time, there were fewer guests and in the _triclinium_ fewer chairs and couches were laid out, which gave me the opportunity to admire the intricate and delicate work of the mosaic on the floor.

"It's Sol Invictus, the god, being carried in his golden chariot across the sky, bringing light to the world" explained a young man with a honey-colored closely cropped beard and bright blue eyes, while he offered me a chalice of wine.

"I thank you for that explanation, it is really a most striking work."

"Yes, Priscus is a man of good taste."

"I see that you have met" said Priscus to us both as he approached in the company of another Senator.

"Not formally, uncle."

"Well then, let me do the introductions. This is Master Ahasver, the gentleman I mentioned to you before, Aulus."

"Very honored to make your acquaintance, Master Ahasver."

"My pleasure, _dominus_ " I replied.

"No, no. Just Aulus, please."

"This is my father-in-law, Senator Publius Thrasea."

" _Dominus_ " hoping that this time my address was correct.

"Master Ahasver, I am pleased to finally meet you. We have heard very good things about you."

"Thank you, Senator. Your reputation and wisdom are known to all."

Thrasea did not look much older than Priscus and certainly not like a father-in-law, but who was I to talk about age and appearances. In the meantime, Priscus also brought along the new Procurator, Festus. A very tall and thin man, of soft traces and pale skin. He seemed older than Priscus and did not look very Roman, more like a Greek orator. A man of few words and even briefer salutations, he soon left our company.

"Let us seat," invited Aulus, "I would like to speak with you, if you don't mind."

"No, of course not. But do call me Ahasver, please."

Both Thrasea and Priscus also left us, and I took my seat in a couch, while Aulus asked a servant to bring a jar of wine.

"Priscus tells me that you are from Caesarea Maritima, in Judaea."

"Yes, but I was born and raised in Jerusalem."

"A most fascinating region, the Levant. Senator Thrasea was Proconsul of Pamphylia for some time, and I had the opportunity to travel there. I believe you know Antioch."

"Yes, I was there a few years ago. You are also an official of the empire?"

"No, no. I'm so sorry, I should have introduced myself properly. I am a poet and a satirist, a writer. Good fortune has allowed me to devote my life to such pursuits."

"I see. May I ask why you were so keen to meet me? Senator Priscus was most insistent."

"Yes, Priscus told me that you were a Judaean, a believer in only one god."

"Yes, our Lord."

"Well, exactly. I did see some Judaeans in Perga, but unfortunately, I didn't have the opportunity of speaking with any of them. You see, I am starting to write a satire, much in the same line as one of Plato's dialogues with Alcibiades. In this satire I want to discuss what is fair to ask from the gods."

"You mean prayers?" I asked.

"Yes, when the prayer is a petition, a request placed by us to the gods."

"Well, I think prayers are more than that. It is after all our way of communicating and acknowledging our faith in the divine."

"Yes, indeed, I agree. We pray when we believe that the god we invoke has the ability to meet our request. Is that also your understanding?"

"Yes" I answered, but still not sure of where all this was going.

"And if one does not believe that the god can answer, then it wouldn't make any sense to ask in the first place."

"Yes, I agree."

"I would like my satire to dwell on the nature of our requests, our prayers."

"Yes?"

"Let's see. We Romans ask for a good harvest from our god Saturn. For the light and warmth of the day to Sol. For love, we seek Venus, and for wisdom we call on Apollo. What about you, since you only have one godhead?"

"We ask all that from our Lord, our one and only god, of course."

"Does your god always answer your requests? I can assure you that ours do not normally grant us what we ask for."

"Certainly not."

"And why do you think that happens?"

"I can't answer that. The will of our Lord is beyond anyone's understanding" I answered.

"But faith implies that we believe that the god will answer someday. So, could the problem be with the nature of our request?"

"I believe that the Lord can recognize a just and reasonable request from an impious one."

"But perhaps the person who is asking, or praying, isn't able to do so. So the outcome is that the gods may seem capricious and only answer a few of our prayers, if any."

"Again you are talking of the designs of the divine."

"Well then, why do we pray?"

"To express our faith, and because some prayers will be answered. The just and the reasonable ones" I ventured.

"Maybe so, but then we get into the question of what is fair and reasonable."

"I think that our own sense of morality teaches us that. I will not, for example, pray for the death of someone."

"But there are those who will. Don't we pray, when are at war, for the death and defeat of our enemies? A man of flawed character can ask for the death of someone who will bring him some advantage, for example."

"I see what you mean."

"Morality is volatile. My morals today are different from what they were a few years ago. They're probably different from yours, and certainly even more different between us and the gods."

"I apologize, Aulus, but I do not see the point behind these arguments. Is it rhetoric?"

"But I told you, Ahasver. I'm just trying to get some insights for my satire. It's just a story, a sort of dialogue also. My curiosity was to know whether you, a believer in a single god, would also have these dilemmas and questionings about prayer."

"Have you reached a conclusion?"

"Everyone has its own, I would say."

"But yours, Aulus, what is your understanding?"

"I believe that in time, prayers undermine our faith in the gods. Every time one of our gods declines to answer a prayer, which we believe to be fair and just, our faith weakens. As we Romans have several gods, we can always pray to a different god. But in your case, where there is only one god, I think the risk is much greater. Don't you agree?"

"Honestly, no, I don't. I think true faith can sustains us for a lifetime."

"That may be true. The gods are all too wise when they limit our life span. But imagine someone who could live for hundreds of years or a thousand years. Could faith also last that long?"

"There are cases in our records that mention prophets who lived for many and many years, and never lost their faith."

"If they truly did, then it's clear to me that could only have happened because the gods allowed for it. I believe that, in those cases, the very act of living for so long is proof enough of godly favor. My satire is not about such exceptions, but about us, the common people, the ones ignored most of the times by our gods."

"You are then saying that prayers, symbols of faith, can actually destroy it?"

"Man will always believe in the divine, it's a need, just like eating and drinking. To keep this belief alive, we create new gods, or at least, new rituals and new cults. That is why Zeus is now Jupiter, the Titans have disappeared in Tartarus, Osiris became Serapis by order of the Ptolemy, and the mysteries of Astarte vary from city to city."

To me, all that was just ample proof of how fickle and unsustainable were the pagan religions. But his rationale was new to me. Could it mean that Chronos was after all a guardian of the faith?

We ended that night talking of voyages and of experiences. Aulus was a keen observer and his descriptions and comments on Antioch and its inhabitants, were witty and entertaining. And little more do I recall of the events of that evening. Dionysus had been merciless to me with that warm broth of fermented grapes.

In the company of a throbbing headache, Alexander, and the other delegates, we hurriedly returned to Ostia in the next morning. From there we embarked on a military vessel, followed by two other triremes carrying a new garrison to Judaea. The whole expedition was done at true military pace, and we only stopped in Crete to replenish our supplies.

Porcius Festus kept to himself, and stayed in his quarters during most of the journey. I only saw him on the last day, when he called for a meeting. Festus announced some of the measures that he would take to bring the province to order and asked for our help and support in carrying out these. That was all. I never saw him again.

Once moored at the pier in Caesarea, we had to watch the troops disembark, and after the formal reception of Festus we were then authorized to leave.

As foretold, he soon acted incisively and efficiently. Within a few days we could see the new Pretorian soldiers patrolling the city ostensively and regularly. Festus also cancelled festivals, some of the games, and reduced significantly our civil liberties, even some privileges previously granted by Felix. Despite some protesting, his measures were effective, and soon calm and order returned to the city.

Much to my surprise, I learned that Saul was still retained in prison. Felix just left him there, and there was no talk of an imminent trial.

"It's shameful, Ahasver, " complained Ruth, "they left him there to rot."

"It is strange, indeed" what else could I say?

"The problem is that there is no one to speak for him."

"Why not? Where are the brothers? Don't they do anything?"

"Who would listen to us? It is known that the Judaeans payed Felix to keep him there."

"Why would they do that?" I still asked, but very little interested.

"To hurt us, of course. Ahasver, please do something for him. Talk to the Governor, you know him personally."

"You know very well that I don't want to get involved once again with your brethren. And I certainly don't have any kind of intimacy with this Procurator."

But Festus also acted quickly on this matter. Once he heard that a Roman citizen had being held for almost two years without a trial, he sent for Saul, and promptly put him on a ship to Rome.

THE REPROBATE

Year 61

Festus' government lasted almost for two years. A recluse, he was seldom seen in the city, and apparently he never even went to Jerusalem, but his justice was felt throughout the province. He stopped the violence and ended the contention that plagued the various communities. He also put an end to many of the robbers and bandits that had assailed the countryside for so long. He reduced some of the unjust taxes that had been introduced by Felix, and his efforts to guarantee the uninterrupted supply of grain from Egypt were amply appreciated by us all.

Away from his home and his family, Festus never adapted to Caesarea, and died, a victim of an incurable fever, leaving behind a void of authority and power.

Ruth, aged and increasingly whiny, was now also withdrawing from the real world, ever more absorbed in her credulity and so devoted to her creed that she became a real ascetic. She stopped eating meat, isolated herself for days on end to pray and fast, and would quarrel with anyone who commented on these bizarre habits. Curiously, more than her caustic remarks and rebukes, it turned out to be her lack of hygiene that drew me even farther away from her.

Adad, old friend and rival, ever more fickle and inconstant, kept ranting me about my youthful gait, devastated that such a gift was granted to a mere Judaean. His paranoia and fixation were such that he repeatedly offered me his entire fortune, in exchange for the secret of my ageless condition. In other days, softened by prodigious gulps of that sweetened Syrian wine, he would mournfully reveal his deep envy with my condition, and of his dread of death and of the afterlife, an inconsolable terror that drove him into the comfort of the Nazarene cult, ever more active under the leadership of the rarely seen Zacheus, which I later learned had once been an ex-Publican in the service of Rome.

Ioanis, ever the faithful friend, and now older, informed me that he wanted to retire soon, but I persuaded him to postpone his decision until his successor and son was ready to take his place in the business. Within a year, I promised him, and before that could happen, I wanted Alexander to go to Jerusalem and take charge of the emporium in that city.

Year 62

Some tiredness with Caesarea, and even more with the rapacious looks of some friends and acquaintances, induced me to spend the next _pesach_ in Jerusalem, although I must admit that I was apprehensive with the reaction of Isaac about my physical condition. We had not seen each other for almost three years.

This time, it took us four days to reach the city, dodging rumors and imaginary sightings of potential assailants that once again plagued those dusty and winding roads, now without much vigilance as the Romans were quietly waiting for a new Procurator to arrive.

Although I left with some guards and servants of my own, these would not be sufficient if we met with a large and determined group of robbers and cutthroats. But we finally arrived, safe and sound, to a city that was now abysmally different from the one I had known so well.

A city in a state of visible disorder and human disarray. The streets cluttered with garbage and animal feces, the people visibly sloven and ragged, and the buildings painted with obscene graffiti and filthy imagery. Even the Roman guard, generally tidy and neat, could now be seen in laxly poses and careless vigilance.

The only constants in the city were still the immaculateness of the Temple and the all too visible sights of rubble and construction. Always something to build, amend or tear down in that city.

"Its all due to lack of leadership," assured me Alexander, when I commented about these first impressions, "and also, Ahasver, your eyes are still fixated in Rome. What a city that is!"

"As far back as I can remember, Alexander, I don't recall ever seeing this city so dirty. Not that it ever was an example of orderliness and cleanness, but it has grown a lot worse. What about the Council? Why don't they do something?"

"They don't do much, that is true."

"And the Romans? What is going on there? I saw very few soldiers. That is unusual at a time of festival."

"Well, the tribune has left for Caesarea. All that is left is a small militia led by a centurion of dubious repute. Is it know who is coming to replace Festus?"

"Not to me. And how is business?"

"Regular, I would say, but we are having some trouble on the roads. Assaults. I had to reinforce the escorts and raise some prices too."

"Did you inform Isaac that I was coming?"

"Yes, I did. Shall I send someone to let him know that you have arrived?"

"Yes, ask for him to come to see me this evening."

"Simon is doing well."

"My nephew?"

"Yes. Isaac asked me if Simon could work here in the emporium."

"That is good news. He must have grown since I last saw him."

"Yes, grown in age, not in height," smiled Alexander, "takes after his father, I guess. Or the mother. They are both short."

"How is Isaac these days?"

"Old, Ahasver, quite old. I almost didn't recognize him when I arrived here."

"But he is not that old."

"Well, he doesn't look like your father..."

"Alexander, you never met my father, as far as I remember."

"No, Ahasver, what I meant to say is that he doesn't look like your father, he looks more like he could be your grandfather."

It was sadly true. In the late afternoon of that same day, when we both met under that same arbor of ancient memories and days gone by, we stared at each other gaping with astonishment, each more dumbfound than the other. Was that old man truly my brother?

"Isaac!" I welcomed him, rising from the couch.

He, stepping back, couldn't help stammering "Ahasver! Oh my Lord! Ahasver is it really you? It's true then..." settling over me a look of deep consternation, "Oh brother...", once more hesitant and mumbling.

But I did not hesitate and we both awkwardly embraced. How strange that moment. In a matter of three years so much had changed between us. And I finally broke that silence.

"How are you, Isaac? How is the family? Rebecca?"

"Ahasver..." but still he stuttered.

"Isaac, please, break it off. I am well as you can see."

"Ahasver..."

"Calm down. I'll ask for someone to bring us some of that wine from Jericho that I left breathing downstairs. That is if Alexander hasn't finished it off yet."

"No, Ahasver. Just some water for me."

I allowed for time to pass so that Isaac could get his wits back. Surely he would soon recover. But I could see that he was particularly stunned.

"Ahasver, I'm so sorry..."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't know? You, the way you look. Ahasver, you cannot stay here, in the city, I mean..."

"Isaac, you exaggerate."

"No I'm not. There is talk in town about a Judaean from Caesarea who it is claimed was blessed with a miracle of everlasting youth by the Nazarene messiah."

"Where did you hear that?"

"The Nazarenes are spreading it. I heard it among some people in the Temple."

"You should know better. Those Nazarenes are always talking about miracles. Everyone knows it by now."

"It's true. They do speak about cures and conversions. I'm not talking about that. They say that this man was blessed because he helped to spread the word of their messiah."

"And is that why you thought of me?"

"Who else could it be? Yes, I do remember all the help you gave them. I even know that sometimes you hid it from me."

"You know what that was all about. Joseph..."

"I know that, of course."

"Well then, what's the problem? They are probably talking of someone else. It has been years since I last met with any of them."

"It could be, but what if you are recognized? What if someone sees you and remembers your face? It hasn't changed, you know!"

"It has been years since I was last in Jerusalem. Who will recognize me?"

"Ahasver, there are many in the city who know you. You were not exactly an unknown. You were a member of the Sanhedrin. There are customers, associates, people who knew you well. You cannot stay. If they recognize you, the Nazarenes will not remain silent."

"What can they do?"

"Ahasver, it's too obvious what they will do. They will point at you as the living proof of a miracle performed by their messiah. Do you understand what that means to them?"

"I will deny it, of course. It's utter nonsense."

"You may do so, but what if the _Kohanim_ decide to investigate?"

"I am a faithful Judaean. I've always been."

"You have not come to the holy city for more than three years."

"I was traveling."

"Ahasver, it's not me who will be saying it. It's them. Can't you see the danger? They will come to some conclusion, whether you like it or not."

"And what would that be?"

"That you are either a Nazarene or you have been cursed."

"What did I do to be cursed?"

"Well, you helped the Nazarenes, for one."

"That's the most preposterous thing I've heard all day."

"Since when, Ahasver, did logic explain the actions of the _Kohanim_?"

"Isaac, that doesn't sound at all like you."

"Maybe, I am also not the same Isaac you once knew."

"What's wrong?"

"I have grown old, Ahasver. I've spent too much time in the Temple among the clergy."

"Loosing your faith, Isaac?"

"Only in men, never in the Lord."

I was tired from the trip, fed-up of invoking plausible reasons and excuses, of maneuvering through denials and hypothesis, forward and back, of long and pointless explanations to what seemed unexplainable or even reasonable. So I decided to end that conversation, promising Isaac that I would think on all that was said, and I would make a decision in the next day.

After a too short and restless night, unusual in me, the day dawned cloudy and rainy, awash with shadows and grays. Aware of the risks invoked by Isaac, I was reluctant to go out into the city and be recognized by the wrong people. Then I thought of the rain. The rain was an opportunity and the means to ensure my anonymity. I could go out in some hooded cloak. I wanted to go the Temple. I needed to go to Temple. At breakfast, I told Alexander of my plan, and he immediately volunteered to accompany me.

Two cowled men in long capes, among the many that drifted their way to the Temple, did not raise anyone's attention. We ended-up staying in the large courtyard of the Gentiles, now empty of the stalls of the moneychangers and dove-sellers, who had taken refuge under the side colonnades. I had thought of going into the inner courts, but I did not want to leave Alexander behind and alone.

Prostrated in prayer, I repeated the eternal homages and invocations to the Lord, as I did feel very strongly His presence on that day. I prayed for guidance. I prayed for my dearest and nearest, for my long gone son. I asked for His mercy, for His forgiveness, for His protection, for His piety and for His blessings. I made promises, swore commitments and even donated a large sum of money to the _korban_. I could think of nothing else to do there. I left with the premonition that I would not return.

Alexander, who knew enough of me and of my moods, and seeing how distraught I was, tried to cheer me up on our way home, telling some innocent jokes and improbable tales.

"Alexander?"

"Yes, Ahasver."

"Tell me something. What's your opinion regarding all this that is happening to me?"

"I don't think much of it. You know how people like to make up stories."

"You don't think it's strange and bizarre my appearance?"

"I admit that it can seem awkward to some, yes."

"Why not to you?"

"Ahasver, it's like father has always said to those who question him. You have been blessed with the gift of a long life. You are not the first, you know. There are stories of similar cases in your own scriptures, and in some of our chronicles too. Men that lived for many, many years."

"Simple as that?"

"It's the only possible explanation. Only those religious fanatics out there could come up with any other reason."

When we got home, Isaac was waiting for me, visibly upset with my excursion. But I did not want to go back to our conversation of the previous evening. It was futile, and a waste of time to go over the same arguments.

"Have you made a decision, Ahasver?"

"Not yet, what's the hurry? To be honest, I still don't think it's as dangerous as you claim."

"But it is. Take my warning seriously. I strongly recommend that you return to Caesarea soon."

"I told you, let me think it through. By the way, isn't Rebecca coming by to see me?"

"I told her about our meeting and our chat of yesterday."

"She doesn't want to see me?"

"She will come, yes. Maybe later in the day, when this rain stops. I've prepared her."

"Does she have an opinion too? Everyone seems to, these days."

"If she does, she has not shared it with me."

"Well, I could go to pay her a visit too."

"No! You mustn't. Don't forget that we have relatives in the house at this time. I haven't mentioned to anyone that you are in town."

"This is totally absurd, Isaac. Am I now a reprobate? No, don't answer that. I refuse to get back into that kind of talk. Please go now. Come back with Rebecca if she wants to."

But neither of them returned that day.

Alexander, busy with the affairs of the emporium, was also away for most of the day, and alone, I spent the day watching the rain washing some of the garbage downhill towards the theatre. I thought of paying a visit to Simeon, Gamaliel's son, but I admit that I was afraid of his reaction. It was bad enough the intrigued and questioning looks I was getting from the older servants and employees. And thinking back to Isaac's words, I could see that the prospect of spending the _pesach_ and the _seder_ in family would not happen. What was I doing there?

Deep in these thoughts, I first didn't notice a servant coming into the _atrium_ and saying that there were two men calling for me at the side gate.

"Who are they?"

"Master, their names are James and Simeon, and they claim to be your brothers, I think. Or they are brothers..."

"My brothers?"

"I thought it very strange too. But one of the slaves recognized them as Messianics, and it is known that they call themselves brothers. Shall I say you are away?"

Well, well. I did know who they were. They had been there shortly after Joseph's burial. I had some sympathy for Simeon, and I decided to see them and also to hear what they had to say about me.

"No, let them in. I'll see them in the _atrium_."

"Brother Ahasver, we can see that brother's Saul prediction was accurate," said James, once we had finished with the usual greetings, "or are you still an unbeliever?"

"Master James, I was never an unbeliever in the truth. I only don't believe in the divinity of the prophet Yeshua, but, on the other hand, we both believe in the Lord" I answered, surprised with their lack of surprise when they met me.

"Brother Ahasver," said Simeon in a true sad tone, "how can you still deny the truth, when the truth is so clearly evident in yourself?"

"Simeon, the truth is often fleeting and always elusive."

"But not faith, that is eternal."

"Nothing is eternal, Master James. Chronos is the guarantor of the impermanence of everything."

"Chronos, brother Ahasver?"

"An old friend."

"A Gentile?"

"You could say that. But may I know the purpose of your visit? Is this just a social call to an old and skeptic friend?"

"It is always a pleasure to see you, Master Ahasver. Do not think that we will ever forget all that you did for us."

"Joseph did. How many times do I have to keep saying it?"

"Of course, and we will never forget Joseph. I assure you that he is in our prayers and in the eternal grace of the Lord and His son. But we have never forgotten you either, brother Ahasver."

"I am sorry, but we'll have to be brief. I do have other business to attend to."

"I understand, we are taking your time. Actually, we came here because of brother Saul."

"Saul ? Isn't he in Rome?"

"Yes, he is still there and in good health."

"So?"

"He told us that you had asked him not to disclose your situation, regarding this miracle."

"How many times do I have to repeat myself ? It's no miracle."

"But brother Ahasver, just look at you."

"No. My answer is no. It will always be no. I don't want my name mentioned for any of your purposes. And tell me, how many more miracles do you still need? In Caesarea they speak of your miracles. Even in Jaffa I heard of another miracle. We've never heard of so many miracles!"

"We live glorious days, brother Ahasver. We are living the last days of man's suffering in this world. The return of the Messiah is imminent."

"According to Saul, you are one of the chosen to attend the end of days. Yeshua promised it to you. To none of us was such a promise made."

"You believe what you will, but don't involve me, I ask you."

"I'm sorry that you think like that. But the truth will come out, sooner or later. You cannot hide for much longer what is happening to you. Embrace our faith. You could be one of our greatest missionaries. With your example, thousands would find the truth of Yeshua."

"Those same thousands would envy me and ultimately destroy me. Let us not be naive about that. Some of you have already died for spreading Yeshua's words. Be careful that the same will not happen to you."

Fortunately, Alexander, just returned, came into the _atrium_.

"We have to say goodbye now" I said, rising from the couch.

They did leave, but not before promising to keep on praying for my sake, and hoping that their messiah would eventually enlighten me.

I was upset. What did I expect from them, I asked myself.

"Alexander start packing your things. The day after tomorrow we'll return to Caesarea."

"Both of us? Me too, Ahasver? And the emporium here?"

"We have two days to arrange it all. I'll appoint Baruch as the manager in Jerusalem. He is experienced and has been with us for many years. We're going to Caesarea and you will take your father's place."

"Seriously? He'll be very pleased. And I'm too, of course."

"Good, I am glad. At least I can still make some people happy. Now, send for Isaac. I need to talk to him."

This time they both came. Rebecca cried a bit, dried her tears and cried again. I tried to understand it, but I was not moved by such watery feelings. I explained to them my decision, and saw relief in their gaze. I explained the simple argument of Alexander that explained my own condition. They were skeptical, but I could see that they wanted to believe it. I mentioned the prophets of the past and their extreme longevity. I don't think they took it in. I felt hurt by their implicit denial, but I could also understand my own oddity. And we finally said our goodbyes. Lastly, I called Simon, my nephew, and promised to call him soon to work in Caesarea.

The following day, the rain was gone, and the sun shone again. It was a good augury. Busy with the paperwork and the tasks and preparations that needed to be done for my departure, the day was progressing smoothly when suddenly we were interrupted by Isaac.

"Ahasver! I'm so glad to find you here. I was afraid that you were out."

"What is the matter? What happened now?" I asked.

"A Nazarene was killed this morning, close to one of the entrances of the Temple."

"Who killed him?"

"Some crowd, probably Zealots."

"Why did they do it? I thought the Nazarenes were now more tolerated."

"That was before. Without the constraint of the Romans, the Zealots have taken to persecute them again. He was preaching at the entrance."

"What's so strange about that? They are always in the Temple. One of these days they will even expel the _Kohanim_ from there."

"Don't joke. This was one of their leaders."

"You knew him?"

"Yes, I had heard of him. James was his name."

"An old man? A thin old man with a large beard?"

"You knew him?"

"If it is the one I'm thinking of, he was here yesterday."

"Here? Have you gone completely mad? You received Messianics here, in the house?"

"How did they know you were here, Ahasver?" asked Alexander.

"It seems that our disguise of the other day was not very effective."

"Wasn't that," said Isaac, "obviously the Messianics in the household told them that you were in the city."

"And they killed James..." I remarked pensively.

"He was stoned to death."

"There were times when they took the trouble of taking them to trial. Now they kill them off just like that. Yes, Alexander, we are leaving this city in good time."

I said my farewell to Jerusalem on a sunny morning, under a celestial blue sky dotted with foamy clouds, a sky divinely colored for final goodbyes. For all purposes, I was leaving against my deepest desires, but also somewhat relieved to depart from that hotbed of religious fanatics, with little hope of returning anytime soon.

I could not stop myself from thinking about the words of James, now more present in my mind with his death, and I wondered if the Nazarenes were not happier than us, living under the illusion that one day their messiah would exorcise all the iniquity and suffering from this world. And that, that would really be the miracle of all miracles.

Years 63 - 64

Not long after our departure from Jerusalem, the new Procurator, Lucceius Albinus, arrived in that city. Unlike his predecessors, Albinus rarely came to Caesarea during the time he ruled the province, and his government was tainted by constant bickering with the priests and also with the Sanhedrin, episodes that Simeon, the son of Gamaliel, would impart to me through his letters.

Alexander, finally replacing his father as the head of the emporia, was still my most faithful companion, as I became ever more isolated in my uneasy reality. If, for most of the city, I was as anonymous as anyone in a crowd, I was also too aware that there were those who watched me with resentful jealousy, the subject of the most disparate rumors and improbable tales. Even Adad, a friend and former confidant, now seemed to avoid my company.

Then, there was also Ruth and Isidora. Two women and two opposites.

With the first, I maintained a restless complicity, very far from the intimacy of distant days, and with the other, I continued to enjoy lusty adventures and licentious fleeting pleasures.

But it was mostly during the unfilled hours of sleepless nights, lulled by the familiar hissing of the wind rushing through the lattices of windows, that I was assailed by doubts and searched for answers and solutions to irrational and senseless dilemmas. I looked for comfort in Ruth's monologues and in the auspices of sibylline letters that Isidora commissioned for me, and I even reread the wordy discourses of Plato.

I had finally forced myself to read that roll of parchment that I had brought from Alexandria, but all I could find there were Socratic solutions for the cure of personal torments and public guilt.

Finally I came to terms with the decision that I had been carrying since my return from Jerusalem. A solution embodied in the need to escape from that reality that stared at me from the yellows of polished brass and the reflections I saw of myself in liquid surfaces of chalices and amphorae.

I took to occupy myself with routines. I asked for reports, revisited warehouses and granaries, and even helped with the counting of the inventory. I spoke to workers, servants and acquaintances. I visited Ruth and called on Ioanis. I paid a last visit to Isidora and sent a message to Adad. I wrote to Isaac and Simeon. I made promises to the Lord and sent generous contributions to the synagogue.

And I spoke at length with Alexander.

"But is there no other solution, Ahasver?"

"No. I've made my decision, it's irrevocable. And for the good of all."

"But why now?"

"And why not? What's the purpose in delaying it?"

"I can't believe it..."

"Don't upset yourself. You know it's the only option I have left."

"No, it's not, Ahasver."

"The time has come, Alexander. It's time to face it. I'm sixty years-old!"

"No, Ahasver. There has to be another way out."

"There could be, but I have made my choice."

This sort of dialogue would repeat itself, with more or less vehemence. Everyone was against it, and the more opposition they made, the more resolute I grew. Signs of old age, I suppose.

"That is not the answer, Ahasver," Ruth would repeat, "the solution is for you to accept."

"And what would change in my life, if I did as you say? Will they look at me in a different way? Will they just ignore what they see? Will I turn into some living miraculous relic for your cult?"

"On the contrary, accepting will be your deliverance. Your eternal salvation."

"Saved after dead, when what really troubles me is this life. You people care little for the living, and the redemption you promise can only be reached after death. What a promise! No wonder only the old and the ignorant adhere to your creed."

"Ahasver, I am speaking of spiritual life. Our life in this world is just a passage. Accept the truth of the Messiah. Saul has taught us that it is irrelevant what we are and do in this life, whether you were rich or poor, if you were charitable or miserly, just or cruel. The only way to salvation is the true faith. It's believing in the Messiah and the Lord, His father."

"Ruth, how is it possible that you have changed so much? That is not the way of the Lord at all, not what the scriptures tell us. What is important is the way we act while we are alive, our deeds, our morals. What we as living beings achieve in this world."

On other days, the conversations were more personal and intimate.

"Ahasver, what is going to happen to me?"

"You don't have to worry about that. Alexander will look after you."

"But you won't be here. Am I condemned to die alone, with no son and no husband?"

"We all end alone" I answered bitterly.

Even Adad, came to say his goodbyes.

"My most dear and ever more eternal friend. How these tired eyes of mine rejoice to see you once more. How it fortifies my faith in Christ when I see the result of His divine blessing on you. What other proof is needed to attest His divinity and power?"

Once Syrian, always a Syrian, even a Christian one.

"And how are you these days, Adad, now that you have embraced the Christian creed?"

"The power of the Christ is unmatched, Ahasver. I just mourn for all the years that I spent in the darkness of my former pagan ways, away from the sun of this most truthful creed. And soon, my friend, at the will of Jesus, I will be living in the other world, amid joyful believers and in the company of the righteous."

"How nice for you, Adad. Nothing like such good and strong faith, right? And it must be so comforting to know that you will get your just reward in the end" I remarked sarcastically, but he was too engrossed in his own revelry to notice it.

"But, Ahasver, why this decision now? You could be the light of our faith, one of the guiding hands on the path to redemption."

"Adad, you know that sooner or later I would have to make a decision. How much longer, do you reckon, I could survive the cruel judgments and the envy of others ? And you are talking of conversions. There are enough of you doing that already."

"Ahasver, let me confide in you. I became a Christian because of you. Because of what I saw in you. You were my guide."

"What utter nonsense, Adad. Let no one hear you say that. I am not and never was a Christian, or even close to being one. So, how can your brothers claim that I received a blessing, or a miracle, whatever it is? Is your messiah so altruistic that it rewards the unbelievers? I don't think any religion does that, my friend."

"And why not? In that you see the mercy and goodness of the Christ, who healed the sick, the lepers and even raised dead people that had never met Him before."

"But he hasn't done much to save your brothers from the intolerance of your enemies."

"Those are our martyrs, Ahasver. Saintly brothers who gladly give their lives in the name of the Lord."

"There are names for people who act in such fashion."

"But, Ahasver, I beseech you, do not do it."

"I have made my decision, Adad. Everything is almost ready."

"But why Rome?"

"It's sufficiently far and large enough to live anonymously. It also has synagogues and a Judaean community. I'll be just another one in the crowd. And I believe that there are very few, if any, Christians in that city. I won't be noticed, coveted or envied."

"That's not entirely true. Brother Cephas and Saul are there."

"Cephas? The same Cephas that lived in Jerusalem and who called himself the first disciple of your messiah?"

"Yes. One of the apostles also known as Simon Peter."

"Is he in jail too?"

"No, Ahasver. Brother Zacheus tells us that they are both teaching the words of the Christ to the Gentiles."

"Only to the Gentiles? Can't you get the Judaeans to listen to you anymore?"

Not much else of any consequence was further discussed in that last meeting with Adad.

He was now totally immersed in his new faith, exhorting all who listened to him to save themselves, fervently hoping that his late, but unconditional, conversion would save him from the terror of his own death.

It took me almost four months to prepare everything for my departure, impatiently entangled in trivial activities and torturous chores. I was already feeling the aches of yearning for those who were still close, feelings brought forward by imagining the coming days and the far distances. Days of solemn promises of return, of remembrances, and of the hunt for small mementos, future catalysts of memories. Days of long and sinuous walks around the city, last opportunities to embed my mind with the sights and sounds of a city where I was not wanted. How everything is different, when savored for the last time.

THE ENVIED

Year 65

The day finally arrived when I forced myself to watch the dark bluish vastness of the sea engulf the scintillating light of the last temple on the highest hill of my city. I was leaving those shores not as a traveller, as I had done before, but as a pariah, banished by the reprobation of my own ageless shadow. A fugitive from envy and not from the deification that Adad had once prophesied.

In high seas, I soon drowned in the lethargy of those apathetic and undulating days, dreaming of restless sleep, accosted by imaginary threats and dangers. In those three weeks, following after the invisible north, I sailed towards a fate of an uncertain future of loneliness and longing.

I almost missed Crete on the starboard and Massena on the port side. I glimpsed Capri in the intervals of the bloated square sails, and the fumes of Vesuvius intertwined with the bow's cordage. Antium quickly glided by the prow, and finally, still immune to all the scenery that insistently kept on following me, I came to Ostia once again. I had arrived at my future.

A stranger in a stranger land, I now had to emulate the common and the ordinary, and so I shaved off my beard, dressed in light linen tunics and wore toga-like cloaks and capes, boarding at an inn close to the baths of Mithra in the town center. I soon met and confabulated with Greeks and Syrians, I spoke with Judaeans and Antiochenes, totally immersed in that plurality of cultures and ideas, searching for options and alternatives for my insertion into that new world.

I eventually took the decision to stay in Ostia, rather than to go on to Rome. The city was large enough for the anonymity I wanted, and being close to the port, it would guarantee a steady flow of news and information from every corner of the Empire. Also, Rome was only a few hours away by horse or litter.

I ended buying a small _villa_ outside the city, in the Via Ostiense, right on the margin of the meandering Tiber. It was not a large property. I certainly had no need for large spaces or to attract others' attention, and I employed a couple of servants of dubious origin. I took to rebuild the stables and the dyke that held off the flooding waters of the winter months. I bought two horses and a litter that I hardly used, and I began to attend services in the Judaean synagogue of Ostia. I deposited my talents in some of the temples, and contributed a good sum to complete the construction of a synagogue close to Portus. At the end of three months of frenetic activity, I felt integrated in the community.

I was now living a most bucolic life, of the unoccupied and the lordly. I looked for things to do at home, replanting flowerbeds, cropping leaves and branches from shrubs and willows, and even changed some of the rose bushes. I found plumbers and masons to renew the kitchens and replace the heating lead ducts in the baths, as well as some of the mosaics in the _atrium_ and the vestibule. I had new frescoes painted over faded landscapes and fauns in the _triclinium,_ and replaced part of the wooden ceilings in the bedrooms. I had days of horse riding over emerald green pastures, and sat hours on end by the river, watching large barges of grain float towards Rome and beyond. At the end of three more months I was bored.

I had to take some course with my life, to find some purpose. I could not see myself spending years on end in that languor of the exiled. I even thought of going on journeys to far away places, but inertia ruled me, and also, I did not want to get far from the source of news of my people and my country. I planned visits to Rome, but the oppressive heat of summer dissuaded me. Not even the frenzy of those days of the great fire in Rome could awake me from that lethargy. And I would counsel myself to remain calm and patient, time was bountiful.

Inevitably the Nazarenes appeared, or better still, the Christians, as the Greek owner of one of the _tabernae_ by the harbor told me.

" _Salve_ , Master Ahasverus."

" _Khaire_ , Akakios."

"We speak in Greek, yes?"

"It would be better, Akakios; otherwise I will lose my fluency" and how terrible his latin was.

"I don't believe that. You are a young _sopho_ !"

"Just a Judaean, Akakios."

"But we all know how wise the Judaeans are, Master Ahasverus. Wise and prudent, very good in commerce, yes?"

"Not all of us, Akakios."

"You are waiting for a ship?"

"Always hoping for news. I suppose that nothing has arrived for me?"

"No, Master. There haven't been many boats from Caesarea, no. But the day before yesterday we had one from Jaffa. It is near Caesarea, no?"

"Yes, it is not far. Was it a merchant ship? A load of balsam or cedar?"

"No, I don't think so. It was a small boat, single masted. It moored right over there, by that granary. But all I saw were some men disembarking, Judaeans it seemed to me."

"Judaean merchants?" I asked hopefully.

"No, Master Ahasverus. They were not merchants, no. They came here, and I asked what they were trading — I always try to be helpful, as you know — but they wanted to know about their brothers. But, frankly, how could I know who their brothers were?"

"Brothers?"

"Yes, they asked me if I knew where the brothers of the Christ lived."

"They were Christians then..."

"Is that what they meant? That sect that our beloved Emperor accused of arson last year? You think I should tell the guards, Master Ahasverus? I do know where they are staying, over at the _stabulum_ of Iuliana."

"Whatever for, Akakios? It's best not to get involved in such affairs. You know how the Romans are."

"You are right, of course, absolutely right, yes."

Akakios was right too.

I had almost forgotten the great fire in Rome that had devastated most of the city, south of the Palatine hill. The fire had lasted for almost a week, and had entirely destroyed various boroughs and most of the living quarters of the humbler quarters. But it also burned a large part of one of the imperial residences.

There was also the rumor going around that Nero himself had a hand on this, but only the more gullible and perfidious enemies of the Emperor could believe such tripe. I still had not understood why the Emperor had blamed the Nazarenes for that catastrophe, but I suppose he had his own purpose. The truth is that many were savagely persecuted and condemned to horrible public punishments. And not just the Nazarenes. A lot of Judaeans were also killed, as, for most Romans, there was no discernible difference between the two religious groups. Now, according to Akakios, reinforcements had arrived.

I was longing for news of Judaea, and since I had nothing better to do that afternoon, I decided to look for them at the inn where they were staying. It was a risk, but minimal. If they were from Jaffa they had most probably never heard of me, much less recognize me in this Roman attire. Was I going mad, irrationally preoccupied with being identified? But then again, they were the persecuted ones in this land, not I.

But they were not at the inn, and after I had made up some reason why I was looking for them, one of the servants confided that they usually stayed in the area around the _forum_. I guessed she was a Nazarene too.

I did find them there. It was almost impossible not to recognize them in their usual habits. The same dark cloaks, the same tunics of rough colorless hemp, their disheveled hair, totally absorbed in their confabulations. Once I confirmed my intuition, I got closer and started to listen to their prattle, delivered in a most guttural Greek to some Judaeans and Gentiles.

They were speaking of their messiah, of course, and of his sayings, but my biggest surprise was the constant mentioning of Saul. They talked extensively of his travels, apparently many more than I had imagined, and of the numerous conversions he had made throughout the Empire. They spoke of their apostles, enumerated the miracles witnessed by thousands in Judaea, in Syria, in Greece, and farther still in remote Britain and in distant Abyssinia. They extolled all their persecuted brothers and those who suffered martyrdom for their faith, willingly relinquishing their lives in the knowledge of certain and eternal salvation in the afterlife.

Still they went on. It was also there that I heard of the death of Cephas in Rome, also crucified as was their messiah, and of Saul and his arrest again. But they should all rejoice, for all was in accordance and by the will of the true savior.

I do not know if they made any converts that day. I grew tired of listening to them, and I did not believe they would give me any useful account of my land. But I was impressed, I must admit, with those speeches and the conviction with which they were delivered.

Suddenly taken by a deep sense of nostalgia, I left them there, and went on my way home. I grew morose, unconsciously thinking of the destinies of Cephas and Saul. I did not feel any emotional entanglement with them, but still, in another time and place, they both crossed my path. The very same paths that, as the Romans claimed, always lead to Rome.

Year 66

Alert and hopeful for news from home and from the family, I devoted myself to regularly survey the harbors of Ostia and Portus, usually spending my mornings at one, and the afternoon hours at the other. I befriended stevedores and quay masters, met with Publicans and cargo supervisors, merchants of lentils and moneychangers of sestertii and denarii, forging friendships at the tables of the various _tabernae_ and _thermopolia_ of those two cities.

From all I asked for the origin of the ships that moored in those piers, and of the others that awaited their turn by the moles and breakwaters of the harbors, bribing them with resin-flavored wines and salty delicacies in exchange for news of exotic Syria and remote Judaea.

From them, I heard of the continued activities of the nefarious Sicarii, of mutinies that continued to assail my land. I learned of the notorious and all too visible covetousness of the new Procurator, Gessius Florus, who had replaced the slightly less greedy Lucceius Albinus. I listened to tales of the intrigues of his wife and Poppaea Sabina, the Empress. They spoke of Cestius Gallus, Governor of Syria, and of his march to annihilate the rebel forces in northern Judaea, of his defeat and disastrous retreat to Caesarea, and of his final cowardly run to Antioch.

From Caesarea I continued to receive, too sporadic for my needs, the usual correspondence that Alexander was able to ship to me through sailors and travelers. There were letters from Isaac, scribbles from Ruth and long epistles from Alexander. And also reports, summaries of accounts, and even credit notes that I would change for _aurei_ and _denarii_ in the stalls of moneylenders and bankers in Rome.

Through these, I knew of them. I knew they were well, despite the long lasting crisis and the savage and gratuitous violence throughout the land.

Through these, I was retold of how much they all missed me, evident in the tremulous handwriting and poor spelling of Ruth.

In these, Isaac informed me that he had left Jerusalem for good and was now living in Caesarea and of his admiration for Alexander, a pillar of honesty, firmness and rectitude.

But it was from Alexander himself that I received the more perceptive news. Not only would he give himself the trouble of compiling long lists of all sorts of information that he knew would be of interest to me, but also commented on them with wit and fine humor. And in the end, another list invariably followed, full of questions that would take me some pleasant days to respond.

These thin threads of contact were my most cherished comfort in those days of bitter solitude.

Years 67 - 69

The next three years were a time of loss, death and hunger, deadly famine.

It started with Ruth succumbing to a fever. Finally, she could now ascend to that heavenly paradise of the Nazarenes, where, she assured me in her last and already feeble message, she would join the Yeshuas, her messiah and my son.

How not to admire her surety in such a faith, the same, as Alexander remarked, that dragged smiling men to their doom. I regretted tears that failed to manifest themselves as copiously as I wanted them to, certainly cauterized by distance and our premature rupture because of that same faith. But I prayed for her in the temple, asking the Lord to hasten her passage through the _sheol_ and to eventually forgive and grant her a true and eternal rest.

Less than a year later, the Emperor Nero also died. By his own hand, some claimed, others mentioned a Greek freedman, while the Nazarenes alluded to divine punishment for the atrocities he had committed against their brethren. But the truth in such affairs is always malleable in the chronicles of the mighty. His fate brought us a year of intrigue, and the assassination of generals and ambitious patricians of the empire. And famine made itself known to our world.

Unquenchable hunger, where stale bread baked with moldy grain was sold for _aurei_ and doves and woodcocks were traded for litters and sleek chariots. The same hunger that revealed skeletal bodies floating lifeless on the low tides, and starving mobs chasing after squalid beasts. When I heard of roving mercenaries who burned and pillaged houses, temples and shops, I took refuge at an inn close to the _castrum_ of Ostia. And in the months that I lived in that room, beige with dust and the dubious aromas that percolated from the lower levels, I watched through the slits of those windows to three oath-taking ceremonies for three different Emperors.

Only after a fourth Emperor was sworn in, did the famine abate, as we all waited anxiously for the arrival of the ships from the orient, loaded with wheat, barley, oats, corn and the relief for us all. It was also at this time that I returned to the _villa_ , finding in its place nothing more than mounds of rubble, ashes and scorched timbers, poor reminders of less convulsed days. But not even all that I had seen in those cold autumnal days, prepared me for the news that Alexander wrote in one of his infrequent letters.

Judaea was now at war against the Empire.

Commerce had ceased throughout the province, and the only emporia still in operation were in Jaffa and Caesarea. Of the remainder, little or nothing was known. In Jerusalem we had lost everything, and Alexander knew for certain that the house and the businesses had been completely destroyed. The city was totally shut to the outside world and no one could go in and out of its walls anymore. He also described violent incidents that had occurred in Caesarea, but fortunately nothing had happened to the house, the family or the granaries and warehouses. He ended in a jovial tone that only a Gentile could have added at such a time. There was talk once again of a messiah in town, and he was Roman, and his name was Vespasian.

Within the same pack of letters, was also a message from Isaac. With a mathematician's precision, he wrote of the incidents in both Caesarea and Jerusalem, and described the fire that had destroyed most of the area around the Mount Zion, burning down both our houses, but also the home of the Annas family and one of the wings of Herod's palace. He enumerated the dead in the city, not just Judaeans, but also Greeks, Syrians, Egyptians and of course, Romans. He described the various attacks that were inflicted in surrounding towns and the repeated assaults to the Temple's treasure. A veritable chronicle of a historian, devoid of emotion and enriched with numbers and facts.

In those days, I dreamed of my city burning, consumed in the pyrrhic dances of my imagination, and I would awake from these with the remorse of one who is safely far from the horror and the violence. Every day I would feverishly search for more information, still unsatisfied with the terror of the real, anxious and afraid for more calamitous news and deathly announcements.

And, once again, the barges and the ships that had brought the grains from afar ceased to arrive. Famine was back once more.

How could life be so recurrent ?

Year 70

Only in the following year did we see the return of bounteousness, and with it the arrival of Vespasian, Alexander's messiah, but for the rest of us, the new Roman Emperor.

To receive him, more relieved than joyful, the city was colored with the garlands and the ensigns of the Empire, as we watched the daily processions of carriages filled with decorations, and the caravans that brought the patricians from the capital. Numerous tents were raised in the fields and courtyards of the temples and baths, while the animals grazed on the marshy fields under wintry rains.

No one yet knew the exact date of his arrival, but no one wanted to miss such a momentous event, and I barely managed to hold on to my room at the boarding house of old Iuliana, while I awaited for the roof of the _villa_ to be finished.

Having once missed the opportunity to see an Emperor in the flesh, I dressed up as any Patrician in that morning of his arrival, and in the company of so many and more distinguished others, I placed myself on one of the side stairs of the Imperial palace to watch the maneuvering triremes that brought from Alexandria the new master of the world.

The piers, now all in white, red and purple with the togas, pendants and banners, echoed the acclamations of the cohorts and the calls of the _aves_ and the _salvetes_ , redoubled when the Augustan figure disembarked from his golden trireme into the arms and embraces of senators and equestrians of the republic. How insensate were those fanatical countrymen of mine to challenge the power and the might that was there parading under my gaze.

Vespasian, now wearing the purple cloak of his imperial mandate, was taken indoors into the palace, followed by the many dignitaries who had just received him and the Pretorian guard of Rome. Power was still too fragile to be paraded in the open.

Having seen the main attraction of the day, the crowds started to disperse, but I stayed on. I wanted to see if I could find some recently arrived sailor who could give me some news of the Levant. Holding on to my cloak, I started to brave my way down towards the pier, when someone grabbed my shoulder, almost making me trip down the stairway. Turning to see who was holding onto me, I was suddenly confronted with a familiar face.

"I know you!" exclaimed the stranger enthusiastically.

"Yes?" I stuttered trying to regain my equilibrium.

"Weren't you in Alexandria, a few years ago? In the Serapeum? The library?"

"Yes, of course," and then I recognized him, "you are Nikolaus, the custodian of the library."

"You do remember too."

"How could I forget? You were extremely kind to a Judaean in disguise!" I replied with a full smile.

"Forgive me, but your name is Ahster?"

"No, but close. It's Ahasver. Ahasver ben Simon."

"Of course. And what is a prosperous merchant from Jerusalem doing in Ostia? Are you a refugee from the war?"

"No, no. I have been living in Ostia for some years now."

"A wise and timely decision, I would say. There is no end in sight for that war in Judaea. And according to my information, still too many battles and too many towns to burn down there."

"So it seems. Unfortunately, I do still have some family over there. And what about yourself? Living in Rome nowadays?"

"Not yet, but I will be staying there, yes. At least for the foreseeable future. Who knows about the future, right?"

"Indeed, Master Nikolaus."

"You know, I somehow knew we would meet again. Do you recall our last conversation?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well then. I must admit though, that I never went to consult the oracle of Uadjit," laughing, "but I have also been told that not even the Sibyls at Delphi could have predicted that we would ever have four Emperors in a single year. The oracles are growing silent these days. Just between us two, I think there are too many gods nowadays."

"Are you an unbeliever now, Nikolaus?"

"No, but my faith has weakened, I must admit. It comes from living for too long among wise men who claim to have answers to the designs of the gods. Even more, when I see temples being brought down and the sons of gods being crucified."

"Are you talking of the messiah, Jesus?"

"That's the one. I had forgotten his name. My memory cannot retain the names of so many of the divine. But see here, that manuscript you sent to Aristarchus was much appreciated, and amply read by the theologians. And some copies were made."

"Really? Did you read it too?"

"Yes, of course I did. I can tell you that my copy is now archived with the Septuagint. After all, it's all about the same god, and maybe one day they will all be part of a single book."

"Believe me, that will never happen. Not even a miracle could join those books. And how is Master Aristarchus these days?"

"Unfortunately for us, he died recently."

"I am sorry to hear that. He was a most devoted scholar and a very civil man."

"Yes, he was indeed. And, Ahasver, now that we mentioned this Christ and his god, I suddenly remembered a comment from Aristarchus after he finished reading that book."

"Yes?"

"He thought it very strange, all those sayings of the messiah."

"I can imagine it."

"You know it too?"

"That those ideas are strange and feeble? Of course I do, and let us not even mention all the miracles described in the book."

"No, no. Miracles are very common in religions. They are nothing more than a method by which the gods manifest themselves to us mortals. No, what Aristarchus found odd is that the god of that messiah was a different one from the god of the Septuagint."

"Another god?"

"Exactly!"

"But this preacher Jesus was a Judaean. He always claimed that, and was condemned for calling himself the son of the Lord."

"Ahasver, the god that this messiah speaks of, is totally different from your Judaean god."

"It can't be Nikolaus, we are talking of the same Lord."

"Aristarchus didn't think so. For him, the god of the Septuagint showed himself as a tyrant, revengeful, cruel, the creator of hundreds of laws that enslaved your customs and culture, enforcing wars, exterminating the unbelievers, the idolaters and even killing his followers when they disobeyed or challenged him. What we read in this book about the Christ, is of another god, a god of peace, of fraternity, of forgiveness, of such magnanimity that he doesn't hesitate to sacrifice his own son for the sake of all mankind. And it is written clearly that it is for everyone's sake, not just for those who believe or follow him."

"Nikolaus, it is a possible interpretation for a scholar or a theologian, and a Gentile. For me, there is only the Lord, the same that dictated the Torah, or the Septuagint as you call it."

"Yes, well, I'm just repeating Aristarchus comments. It did make some sense to me, but as you say, it is an interpretation. Anyway, your book is still there, in the Serapeum."

"And over there? Still busily adding on more rolls and books?"

"Always. There's always new material arriving. Especially now, under the patronage of our Emperor, a devotee of Serapis, too."

"Vespasian is a scholar?"

"Kind of, at least he is an avid reader. I had this idea that the Romans, especially the military, were not very inclined towards science and philosophy. But the general... apologies, the Emperor, surprised me."

"Did you meet him?"

"Yes. We spent some time looking for some Homeric texts in the library. He knows the Iliad well. He claims that he learned quite a bit from the epic, basically being a poem of honor and warfare."

"Well, and thus his interest, being a military man."

"Could be..."

"Have you recently arrived from Alexandria? With the Imperial staff?"

"Yes, the Emperor has appointed me his secretary. He wants me to reorganize the Apollo library in Rome."

" _Secretarius Imperialis_ ! My congratulations."

"Still a bit of a jester, Ahasver?"

"Not at all, my dear friend. I do mean it."

"Thank you then. And now that we are nearer, I do hope you come and visit me in Rome. It will be good to have friends close by. From what I have heard, I do believe that I have some unfriendly faces already awaiting for me at the palace. You know how it is in these kingly courts."

"I don't, Nikolaus, but I do have a most prolific imagination."

We still talked a bit more, but eventually Nikolaus had to leave with the Imperial retinue. We both promised to keep in contact, and I begged him to let me know of any significant news about the war that was still raging over in Judaea.

It was not long, until I received his first letter, the most painful piece of writing I had ever read in my life, painfully engraved in my memory forever.

" _I am so terribly sorry, my dear friend, knowing just how grievous and painful will be, to inform you that has just arrived here at the palace, delivered by imperial courier, the most dreadful news._

By the command of the mighty Titus Flavius, son of our Augustus, the V, X, XII and XV legions have taken the city of Jerusalem.

As a result of this conquest, many thousands of Judaeans were killed and the greater part of the city was burned down, including the great temple dedicated to your god."

And he added.

" _The most just and honorable general Titus, horrified with the carnage and the destruction, refused his well deserved wreath of triumph, announcing to his legions that there is no glory in a victory over a people so clearly abandoned by their own god. I do believe, dear Ahasver, that Aristarchus would attribute this calamity to the inclemency of the god of the Septuagint."_

It is too hard and painful to express through mere words the emotions awakened by this piece of news. All I could think was of how horrendous it must have been the butchery to quench the thirst for glory of a conqueror.

Later I came to understand the true essence of what we had lost.

As tragic as the hundreds of thousands of dead, and the tens of thousands of captives and slaves, we had lost in that inferno a major portion of our faith, and if not a complete break, at least a suspension of our millennial covenant with the Lord.

But this was my perception.

In the synagogue, there were those who spoke of divine retribution for the errors and excesses of the _Kohanim_. Others suggested that this was the means through which the Lord had destroyed that temple built by that most impious Herod, defiled by the constant presence of pagans, heretics and Romans. Still other voices, even less moderate, claimed that all had been a trial perpetrated by the Lord to test the truly faithful, and that the fighting would go on, not just against the heathen, but also against the blasphemers who were seduced by sects that allegedly had foreseen the destruction of the Temple. A clear reference to the Nazarenes. And in that Roman city, few dared to suggest that the guilty lived a few hundred _stadia_ from where we were.

With the end of Jerusalem and as a sequel to that tragedy, we began to see the arrival of new ships and barges, loaded, not just with grain, but also with slaves and prisoners.

I had to wait for a few months until I received additional letters from Judaea.

All was as well as could be, under the circumstances, in Caesarea and with the family, and according to Alexander, trading had recovered slightly. Isaac, always the more stoic, shared his belief that all that had happened was the inevitable and long awaited retribution of the Lord for the corruption and slovenliness of the people. Amidst the disaster, he seemed now to have recovered some of his earlier zealousness.

Arid letters without the usual quips from Alexander.

Year 71

Around the time of the ides of Februus, I received an invitation to call on Nikolaus in Rome. Some months had already passed after his arrival, and during this time we had only exchanged a few letters.

I found him is his office, in one of the many rooms of the Domus Tiberiana, surrounded by rolls and assorted books, in the company of a young Roman.

" _Salve_ , Ahasver!" he saluted effusively as I was announced.

" _Salvete_ , gentlemen" I answered, saluting both of them, unaware of who the Roman was.

" _Princeps_ , allow me to introduce you to a dear friend of mine, Ahasver ben Simon, from Caesarea. Ahasver, this is Lord Domitian, most illustrious son of our Augustus."

"Master Ahasver" acknowledged the young patrician.

" _Dominus_ , at your service" I replied, hoping that the wording was adequate for the occasion.

"Are you a Judaean, sir?" he asked.

"Yes, _dominus_."

"How interesting. The very first one I have met personally, unlike my brother and father" he commented morosely.

Nikolaus decided, at that point, to interrupt.

" _Princeps_ , Master Ahasver has been living in Rome for some years now. Long before the start of the war," and looking at me with a resigned air, continued, "Ahasver, Lord Domitian, just like his most noble father, is an enthusiast of Homeric literature and a devoted student of Hellenic philosophy. He has been my most valuable ally in rebuilding the library here at the Palatine."

"Master Nikolaus," replied the youngster to this, "I believe I will be going now. Later we will discuss further about my plans for the Iseum."

"Very well, _Princeps_."

" _Vale_ , Master Ahasver" as he took his leave.

" _Dominus_."

More at ease now, Nikolaus pointed me to a chair and we both sat down.

"A most diligent youth, Ahasver" as he switched to _koine_ , a language more amenable to both of us, "But, just between us, too much of a critic."

"With you, Nikolaus?"

"No, I'm speaking in general terms. But he has really been most helpful with my chores. Sometimes I don't think I could manage without him. Some of these Roman functionaries are so inept. You couldn't image how much I have struggled to collect all the manuscripts, books and rolls that are scattered all over these buildings."

"Wasn't there a library already?"

"Yes, there was a large library built by Asinius Pollio, during the Principate of Augustus, but it was partially destroyed in a recent fire. I have managed to recover most of the works that were there, but the problem is that the books were withdrawn without much control, and they ended up everywhere."

"And the son of Vespasian has helped you in that?"

"Oh yes, very much. Only he has managed to retrieve some of the rarer books. Let's say that he has managed to persuade some of the more intractable borrowers to return them" he said it smiling, "Nothing like the judicious use of power to emasculate greed and cupidity. And besides that, he is also an avid collector and one of his favorite hobbies is to explore the stalls in the markets for rare books and parchments."

"And otherwise, Nikolaus, are you happy here in Rome?"

"I can't complain much. In the beginning, I did suffer some ostracism and envy as I am a personal secretary to the Emperor, but once they saw that I was a mere librarian, I was left alone. But Ahasver, I did call you here for a reason."

"Yes?"

"It's a bit of a speculative matter, I must confess, but I wanted to share it with you."

"Well..."

"Let me explain. Some weeks ago, young Domitian brought me a bagful of parchments, some rolls and even a codex. You know that these codices are relatively rare, and only some Greeks use this new format. This particular one was written in a rudimentary _koine_ , which is also strange by itself, but when I started to read it, I suddenly realized that this codex was very similar to the one you had once copied for Master Aristarchus in Alexandria."

"The one of the Christians?"

"Yes, the same one. I can't tell you if it is an exact copy or someone plagiarized it. You can imagine my surprise."

"The surprise is how did it find its way to Rome. I always knew that my version was not unique, it was obviously a copy that a friend of mine in Antioch had it made for me at the time."

"Yes, then it is no coincidence that they are both written in such poor orthography."

"You plan to add this codex to the library here?"

"As I said, those books were bought by Domitian, and he was curious about the codex. As I said, it is a rare format."

"Did he read any of it?"

"No. He speaks reasonable _koine_ , but has some difficulty with the written word. Most of his tutors were Roman, and most of these only teach in latin. Sometimes we both speak in it, he likes to practice with me. But his reading skills are limited. What do you think? Shall I tell him what the book is all about?"

"Has he asked?"

"Yes, sometimes. When he remembers."

"Honestly, Nikolaus, I see no harm in telling him what it really is. The fable of a Judaean preacher, full of delusions and dreams. A demagogue who in the end was killed for political reasons. And for anyone who doesn't know the principles of my religion, the heretical part is not that self-evident."

"Yes, that could do it. Some dogmatic manifest of an obscure religious sect. That's what I'll tell him."

"Plus, it's the truth" I concluded.

"The truth for some. But how many hues has the truth, Ahasver?"

"I wonder if he has heard of the Christians..."

"Of course he has. He is a Senator, after all. He does go to the Senate regularly, despite his age and the hostility of that body towards the Imperial family."

"Well then, even easier for him to understand the book for what it really is."

"And Ahasver, together with the codex, as I said, there were several other items, some old parchments, molded letters, and one of these is a curious epistle that had not been read yet, as it was still sealed."

"Yes?"

"It is written in latin by someone called Paul, and addressed to a brother named Linus, a Christian which I presume is Roman or at least lives here in Rome."

"Paul or Saul?"

"Paul, as he calls himself a servant of the Christ, and he begins by saluting this Linus, also a brother in Christ as he calls him. In this letter, this Paul mentions the codex, which makes me think that it was sent together with the book."

"What is in the letter?"

"It makes reference to another epistle, but that one is not with these documents. Either it was lost or sent at some other time. Anyway, this one seems to be an _erratum_ or an _addendum_ to the codex itself."

"It changes the contents of the book?"

"It adds to it. More specifically it mentions some more miracles."

"It adds miracles to the book?"

"Yes. I assume that since the time when the book was written, some more miracles must have occurred, which this Paul thought sufficiently relevant to add."

"Unbelievable! As if the number of miracles already cited in the book were not enough."

"You are right, of course. And this is the point I wanted to make. I think that one of these miracles is about you."

"Are you serious, Nikolaus?"

"Yes. Let me read the text to you," and he stood up and picked an old parchment that was stacked on his desk, "let me see... yes, this Paul starts the letter in this way — _Paulus, apostolus Christi Iesu secundu_ " he announces himself and names the addressee, " _Linus germano filio in fide_ and farther down begins the part I want you to hear."

" _And in the year of His resurrection, in the day of the martyrdom of our Savior, one other miracle was done by His will and command, in the city of His torment of Jerusalem._

And it happened when our Lord Jesus, on His way to the cross in the Calvary, in accordance with the will of the Lord, His Father, met a Judaean from whom he requested water in that hour of His suffering and sacrifice.

And this man, addressing our Lord with the unwarranted rudeness and the arrogance of the more affluent, denied vehemently such mercy.

And it was at this time, of profound anguish, that our Lord Jesus marked this reprobate sinner to wait in earthy suffering for His return, as He was there condemned by the sins of Man to His torment.

And this same Judaean I met later in the city of Caesarea, living in the darkness of his denial in the Christ, with the same physical gait and posture that he had in the year of the Resurrection of our Lord Jesus.

And not even his pious wife, a sister in our true faith, was able to exorcize his malevolent nature and for him to seek salvation in the bosom of our brotherhood.

And thus I announce to you, as we all are sinners on the path of salvation, that this Judaean justly deserves to be an everlasting wanderer, yearning forever for the second coming of Jesus, the true and only son of the Lord."

"The letter continues with other descriptions of miracles and some admonitions, warnings and so on... and it finally ends with what seems to be an invocation — _Gratia Domini Iesu Christi cum spiritu vestro_."

I was astonished, frightened and dismayed, and furious! How could Saul — and I had no doubt that all this flowery language was his own doing — could have written such a tawdry text? I was also sure that he was talking of me. Unfortunately, my very visible awe and silence confirmed Nikolaus suspicions.

"Ahasver?"

"Yes, Nikolaus."

"Is this tale, not about you?"

"May I ask how you came to that conclusion?"

"Ahasver, there are too many coincidences. You once told me that you saw this Christ in Jerusalem, that your wife turned to this Messianic creed, and you are from Caesarea. Also, all the dealings that you had with them in the past, as you told me and Aristarchus in Alexandria."

"Yes. These are bizarre coincidences, I must admit."

"And the way you look, Ahasver! I am a bit absent-minded and not particularly good with faces and features of my fellow men, but you are really looking very youngish for your age. At first, I thought it was the beard, since when we first met, you had a full beard, but I can see that is not all..."

"Nikolaus..."

"No, no, wait. Now I am thinking of something else. You never disclosed the reason that brought you to live here. Why you are living in Ostia. Of course, I can see it now. The logic is undeniable" and now he stood up in an agitated mood.

"Nikolaus..."

"Poor Ahasver, now I'm beginning to understand! How cruel of them. All this because you denied some water to a condemned man? Is that why you were being persecuted by them?"

"Nikolaus, let us be reasonable," I sighed, " admit being in Rome for the reasons you said, to get away from ostracism and envy. But let us look at this rationally. I do not believe in this Christ, so why would I deserve such a blessing or punishment?"

"But this Paul seems very sure of himself."

"And where is the truth in fanaticism? This Paul converted to the Messianic creed because he had visions of angels and of this Christ. And he is or was, a sick man. He suffered from the Sacred Disease. He had convulsions. Of course, he had visions, all those who are damned by that condition have them."

"Ahasver, let us assume that you are right, but then let me ask you, what is really happening to you?"

"I can only think of one possible logical and rational answer."

"Yes?"

"My family descends from the old Sumerians and Babylonians. It is known that, in ancient times, some of these had extreme longevities. I am talking of people who lived hundreds of years. Some even longer. You have read in the Septuagint of some of our prophets who lived many years."

"Yes, that's true. But, Ahasver, most of that is myth and happened hundreds, if not, thousands of years ago. I did find in Alexandria some papyri with similar accounts, but nothing like that has been seen since those times."

"Just like all these miracles that the Christians claim. Since when had we heard of so many such improbable events? And now look, there are people, like this Paul, drawing up lists of miracles."

"You have thought this through, I can see that, and your approach makes more sense. But even if it's true, very few will understand or accept it. I can see your dilemma."

"I have known Paul for many years, and right in the beginning I told him about this incident with the prophet Yeshua, and it's true that I denied water when he requested, but what else could I do? He was been taken to his doom, escorted by soldiers, and followed by an agitated mob. Does anyone really think that they would all stop and wait for me to give some water to this condemned man who would be dead in a few hours?"

"Yes, I do understand. And I think I can also understand why they are using you like this."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, my friend. Your argument makes sense to me. Maybe you are predestined to become a prophet yourself, filled with the knowledge and wisdom that comes from a long and studious life, a worthy successor to your Abraham. Who can understand the designs and the plans of the gods? They will always be a mystery for us mere mortals. Maybe for you it will turn out differently."

"In truth, Nikolaus, I also don't know what to do."

"Do nothing, Ahasver, live the life, as life unfolds before you. If it is as you say, then obviously you are meant for grander purposes. As much as I find it repulsive, I will destroy this letter from this Messianic preacher. We never know if, in the future, someone might come across it and interpret it erroneously. You remain as anonymous and inconspicuous as possible. But I don't suppose you know a lot of people in this city?"

"Few know me."

"Anyone in public office?"

"I did know, some years ago, a Quaestor and Senator by the name of Priscus."

"Helvidius Priscus?"

"Yes, you know him?"

"Only by name, but don't concern yourself with him."

"Is he dead?"

"Not yet. But the Emperor has banished him from the city."

"Priscus? Why?"

"Disrespect. He will not acknowledge Vespasian as the rightful Emperor. Senate politics. Anyone else ?"

"I met with some other Senators at the time. Marcus Nerva and Publius Thrasea. And briefly, I also got to know a poet and satirist, Aulus Persius."

"Thrasea and Persius are now dead, but Nerva could be a risk. Has he seen you again, since that time when you met him?"

"No, I don't come often to Rome, and down in Ostia we don't see many Senators."

"Senator Nerva was Domitian's tutor for some time, and he is close to the Imperial family. It's too risky for you to come back here. Our next encounters will have to be away from the Palatine."

"Why you don't you come down to Ostia. It is not far, and the _villa_ is finally ready."

"It's a good idea. I will come, yes. And Ahasver?"

"Yes?"

"You better take this. I know myself too well. I will not have the courage to burn it, but I also don't want it lying around here."

But Nikolaus, still puzzled with Paul's letter, made further enquiries, as he later told me.

"I wanted to know, Ahasver, if either that Paul or Linus were still in Rome, and whether there was any rumor circulating about the contents of that epistle."

"Did you find anything significant?"

"It was not hard to locate Linus. Apparently he is now the head of that sect here in Rome, after the previous one, named Peter, was crucified. About this Paul, I couldn't find much. Even the Christians do not seem to know what has happened to him. Some say that he was killed during the time of Nero, and others claim that he went on a missionary trip to Gaul and Spain, but no one is sure."

"What about the letter and its contents?"

"Nothing. Some do say that there was a Judaean who was pardoned by their messiah on the day he was crucified. But he was a criminal, one of the condemned that died also in the cross with this Christ."

"Did you speak with this Linus?"

"Me? No, Ahasver, I spoke to no one. It is still too dangerous to be seen associating with these Christians. They are not popular since Nero accused them of arson. I asked the _Speculatores_ to investigate all this for me, naturally for the security of the state" he grinned.

"I see. Are there any recent news about Judaea, my friend?"

"Not much. I do know that the Emperor has appointed a new legate, Lucilius Bassus, and that the military campaign is still ongoing."

"Is there still a lot of resistance from the rebels?"

"I know that they are holding out in a few fortresses outside Jerusalem."

"And the city itself?"

"They are rebuilding it, as far as it is known. But not the Temple, though. The Romans will not allow that for now. I'm sorry, Ahasver, but the news that arrive here are mostly of a military nature."

I also received few details from Caesarea, although there was no shortage of ships arriving, loaded with Judaean prisoners, taken to the markets of Rome in long serpentine processions, to be sold as slaves.

Encouraged by Nikolaus, for I was at first reluctant, I bought a Judaean family from Jaffa. With so many slaves now available for sale, the prices dropped drastically, and it was now cheaper to buy a slave than to employ freedmen as servants. And at least, I could now eat some proper food, rightly prepared in our own way.

Year 73

At last the end has come.

After a general war that lasted for almost seven years, the last resistance of the rebel forces was decimated in the old Herodian fortress-palace of Masada. Also, in this same year, Rebecca, the wife of Isaac passed on, followed within a few months by Isaac himself, both victims of an Egyptian fever.

Of my immediate family, all that remained was my nephew Simon, married and with four children, who, according to Alexander, had now moved to Jerusalem to look after the new store that had just been built there.

It was also the year of my seventieth birthday. And still no one would have guessed it.

I do not feel old, nor do I know what it's like to feel it, ever more immune to the passing of Chronos. But I do feel tired and lonesome. Mainly tired of myself, of my own company. I wonder if that is a sign of age.

"No, Ahasver" Nikolaus would assure me.

"Nikolaus, I am tired and bored with all. I'm serious. It must be my age."

"I don't think so. If you are feeling lonely, perhaps it would be good for you to marry again."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"For company, for progeny..."

"I feel too old for that. Who would want to marry a seventy year-old man? Have children, you say? Ridiculous..."

"Fine, then let's not talk of that anymore, it depresses me."

"My age?"

"No, my age, Ahasver."

"You are not that old. You still have plenty of time to enjoy life and many more books to read yet."

"Yes, yes. I am an optimist, but still, I have begun to feel some pains, strange pains in the stomach and some headaches."

"It's probably all that food in the palace. Too rich."

"Too dangerous, you mean!"

"Why?"

"Poisons."

"Poison?"

"Yes. Just the other day they found poison in one of Titus's dishes."

"Who found it?"

"The official taster."

"And what happened?"

"He died. How else would they find it?"

"That's terrible. Did they find out who did it?"

"No, but Domitian was for some time scared off his wits."

"Why him?"

"Some say that he did it, because of envy for his brother. Vespasian has already acknowledged Titus as his successor."

"What a family!"

"Speaking of families, how is yours?"

"Smaller, Nikolaus, growing smaller."

I wanted to have shed some tears for Isaac and Rebecca.

Year 79

The aged Emperor, Vespasian, has died, mumbling in his last breath that he was turning into a god.

Long life to Titus, his son and now Emperor, acclaimed by the gods with the thunderous eruption of mount Vesuvius, and the burial of the cities of Pompey and Herculaneum. In those days, turned into nights, the dense fumes and the heavy ashes in the air hid from us all the glorious Sol, almost an end of days, and for many it was so, including a certain Judaean princess, Drusilla, the second wife of Felix.

Nikolaus, feeling old and too tired to continue with his work of shepherding books at the Palatine, quit his job and came to live with me. But I was too aware that my years at Ostia had run their course, and freeing my slaves we both moved to Antium.

I bought a small _villa_ close to the Temple of Fortuna, much to the pleasure and delight of Nikolaus, and we now spent our days in languid tranquility, watching the sea and the ships that glided by in the distance, occupying ourselves with reading the assorted rolls and manuscripts that he had brought with him from Rome, including an old Septuagint, a gift of the _museum_ of Alexandria to the Emperor Claudius.

"No one will miss them there, Ahasver. A total waste."

"Not even your former aide and patron?"

"Domitian?"

"Yes."

"It's been some time since he was interested in books."

"What is he up to these days?"

"Well, this year he was again elected Consul."

"A powerful man."

"Not at all, Ahasver. He is still the same ignored son of a glorious father and an illustrious brother. He has one or two friends, if that."

Just like me.

Alexander announced in his latest post that he has just celebrated his fiftieth birthday with pomp and magnificence, and despite his age, he was still a most ardent writer, and once more his letters reflected a merrier side of him.

I took some comfort in knowing that not everything had been burned to dust in my land.

Year 81

The Emperor Titus has died. Long live Domitian, brother and the new Emperor, and according to some slanderous rumors, partly guilty for this sudden death. A rumor emphatically denied by Nikolaus.

Incredible as it seemed, a few Nazarenes arrived in Antium, but were promptly expelled by the guards in attendance at the Imperial _villa_. I thought it just. I did not even have a temple nearby, and they were already in the neighborhood.

"Do you know why they were expelled, Ahasver?"

"Apparently they were preaching near the Mithraeum."

"Preaching to the legionnaires?"

"I don't really know, Nikolaus. I was told about it in town."

"How tenacious they are, Ahasver."

"Fanatics as ever, I would say."

"And clever."

"How did you come to that?"

"As far as I know, there is a lot in their ideology that is identifiable with the cult of Mithra."

"Strange. You really think so?"

It was odd. What connection could there be between the Nazarenes and a pagan cult ?

"According to Aristarchus, Mithra was the son of the god Ahura Mazda, and he was also crucified. Do you know what else the Christians are now claiming?"

"More miracles?"

"Most probably," he laughed, "they are saying that the mother of their messiah was a virgin when she gave birth to him."

"Does anyone really believe in that?"

"Well, once again the reason could be Mithra. The same was said about his mother."

"Are you telling me that this Christian movement is molding itself to the beliefs of Mithraism?"

"So it seems. There's more. Mithra also resurrected according to their dogma."

"Is this Mithraism an exclusive cult of the Romans?"

"It started in Persia. It was brought by the legionnaires."

"Before the Christians?"

"Yes, long before. And I do have some suspicions..."

"Regarding what?"

"That famous preacher, the one who wrote that letter about your miracle..."

"Saul?"

"Yes. Wasn't he Roman?"

"A Roman citizen, yes, he told me that he was born in Tarsus."

"Then it fits. Tarsus, as the capital of Cilicia, is known as one of the most Persian cities of the empire. It's natural that Mithraism was a popular cult in that city."

"But even so, Joseph once told me that Saul was a devout Judaean, a real Zealot."

"He couldn't have been such a firm believer if he later took on the Christian faith. But what I am saying is that he could have selected some of the mysteries and beliefs of Mithraism and used them to make this Christian ideology more popular and acceptable."

"You mean, to attract the followers of Mithra and eventually convert them into Christians?"

"Why not? It's one of the most popular religions among the Romans, especially their military. Even Emperors have proclaimed Mithra to be the Protector of the empire."

"Really? What about Jupiter and the other gods?"

"The Olympus is a huge place, there's always room for some more gods."

"And you still speak ill of my religion, Nikolaus!"

"Let me tell you, Ahasver, your religion is at a crossroad nowadays, after the destruction of your temple and of the city of Jerusalem. Have no doubts, the Christians will take advantage of that. See how they are spreading."

"That is true."

I was the only Judaean in town, and my rituals these days were the simple and lonely reading of the scriptures in that Septuagint.

Also in those days, Nikolaus started to give in to Chronos.

He could barely read anymore, and his eyes, always vivacious and alert, started to lose the gleam of his sagacity and turned opaque and nebulous.

Even without the need to consult a Sibyl, he now prophesied that soon he would go blind. It was I who now read to him the Aeneid of Virgil and the sophisms of Protagoras. Fortunately, he had brought a lot of books with him from the palace.

"I feel that I have been touched by the gods, Ahasver."

"Why is that?"

"I suffer from a Homeric disease."

"Was Homer blind?"

"Yes, he was blind. He died in darkness."

"As with everything that exists, Nikolaus. But he became an immortal through his writing."

"Immortality is over rated. Only the memories of man carry it, and we are all mortals in the end."

"But the spirit is eternal. And don't deny it. I know that you Greeks also believe in this."

"Only the Platonists, and I am a staunch Stoic. It doesn't soothe me to know that the wise Socrates believed otherwise."

"Are you so afraid of death, my friend?"

"Yes. Who doesn't fear death? That's why I am so envious of you."

"My day will come too."

"I do hope so, I want to believe so, otherwise I would envy you even more."

"I don't blame you for such thoughts. We all have our weaknesses."

"I am weak, Ahasver. I do know that. And as with all craven, I find comfort in the more perverse sentiments."

"What do you mean now?"

"You might be immortal..."

"That's becoming quite an obsession with you, Nikolaus."

"... but you won't survive unscathed to the passage of time. More present than Chronos, will be solitude and loneliness for you."

"You are being cruel now."

"I told you, I am a wimp and I take delight from the vulnerabilities of others. I am too human."

Year 93

"Ahasver?"

"Yes, Nikolaus, I am here."

"Am I still alive?"

"Of course, can't you hear me talking?"

"Is it night?"

"No, it's still daytime."

"Not for me."

"Do you want me to take you out to the terrace?"

"Whatever for? I will still be far from the light of the divine Helios."

"But you will feel the sunlight, the warmth."

"Better not, I am in some pain. I think I am ready."

"For what?"

"To travel, Ahasver, what else could it be?"

"Where do you want to go now?" I asked with a restrained smile.

"To a place where you will not be going."

"Have you grown into an egoist in your old age, Nikolaus?"

"No. For me, it will just be a short trip down the Acheron to Hades."

"Don't even think of it. Besides, Charon has little free time these days. Apparently, your old friend Domitian is keeping him too busy with the number of _Chatti_ he has been killing."

"Domitian? A warrior now? He must be pleased. It's everything he ever wanted to be. But do not change the subject, Ahasver."

"No. You were saying..."

"There is so much to read still, and I have run out of time. How I envy you. By Zeus, how I envy you..."

"No you don't."

"Yes, I do, Ahasver. I envy your longevity... I envy you for all that you will learn... the events you will witness... the many and wondrous moments you will experience... how is it possible that I am dying, and all I have are these base thoughts... terrible... weak... so craven... of envy, Ahasver."

"Nikolaus, you have been dying for ages now. A pain here, a twinge there..."

"Ahasver..."

"Yes."

"I don't... I don't feel any pain..."

"No?"

"I don't feel... anything..."

Once again envied and lonely, I didn't bother to celebrate my ninetieth birthday that year.

THE END OF ENVY

### Books of the Heptalogy

### The Seculary of a Wandering Jew

Book 2

LUST

IV - VI Centuries

Spalatum / Byzantium / Constantinople

The End of Paganism and the victory of Christianity

Book 3

PRIDE

XIth Century

Levant / Jerusalem

The Crusaders and the Kingdom of Jerusalem / Islamism

Book 4

WRATH

XIVth Century

Holy Roman Empire

Black Death and the birth of Europe

Book 5

GLUTTONY

XVIth Century

Vatican / Saxony

Leo X / Luther / Indulgences and Protestant Reformation

Book 6

GREED

XVIIth / XVIIIth Centuries

America / England

Colonialism

Book 7

SLOTH

XXth Century

France / United States

Science / Materialism / Atheism - Closure

LIST OF CHARACTERS

THE FAMILY

Ahasver* - Narrator

Isaac* - Brother of Ahasver

Rebecca* - Wife of Isaac

Ruth* - Wife of Ahasver, proselyte

Simon* - Son of Isaac

Simon (father)* - Father of Ahasver and Isaac

Yeshua* - Son of Ahasver

THE MESSIANICS / CHRISTIANS

Abiram* - Head of the Messianics in Arimathea

Barnabas - Missionary and companion to Saul

Cephas - Simon Peter, apostle, first bishop of Rome

Ephraim* - Miracle worker in Jaffa

Hermione - Daughter of Philip, the Evangelist

Hila - Daughter of Philip, the Evangelist

James - James, the Just, apostle, first bishop of Jerusalem

James - James, the Great, apostle, martyr

Linus - Second bishop of Rome

Philip - Philip the Evangelist, one of the seven deacons

Philip - Head of the Messianics in Tiberias

Saul - Paul of Tarsus, disciple and missionary

Silas - Missionary and companion to Saul

Simeon - Second bishop of Jerusalem

Stephen - One of the seven deacons, protomartyr

Thadeus* - Head of the Messianics in Jericho

Timon* - Head of the Messianics in Jaffa

Yeshua (prophet) - Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ

Zacheus \- Head of the Messianics in Caesarea

THE JUDAEANS

Abraham* - Member of the judaean council in Caesarea

Adina* - A servant of Ahasver

Agrippa - Herod Agrippa I, nephew of Antipas, king of Judaea

Ammon* - Employee of Ahasver in Tiberias

Ananias - Ananias ben Nedebaios, High Priest

Annas - Annas ben Seth, High Priest

Antipas - Herod Antipas, son of Herod, tetrarch of Galilee

Asher* - Employee of Ahasver

Boethus - Wealthy priestly family

Caiaphas - Joseph Caiaphas, High Priest

Drusilla - Daughter of Agrippa, second wife of Felix

Eloy* - Friend of Ahasver, potter

Gamaliel - Friend of Joseph, Nasi of the Sanhedrin

Herod - Herod the Great, king of Judaea

Herod Agrippa - Herod Agrippa II, son of Agrippa I, tetrarch of Lysanias

Hevel* - Employee of Ahasver in Jaffa, proselyte

Hillel - Family of Gamaliel

Jonathan - Jonathan ben Annas, son of Annas , High Priest

Joseph of Arimathea - Friend of Simon (father), benefactor of Ahasver, proselyte

Menahem* - Friend of Isaac, scribe

Mordechai* - Tutor of Yeshua (son of Ahasver), proselyte

Nicodemus - Friend of Joseph of Arimathea, proselyte

Philo of Alexandria - Hellenistic philosopher

Pinchas* - Friend of Simon (father)

Simeon \- Son of Gamaliel, Nasi of the Sanhedrin

Theudas - Pseudo-Messiah

Theophilus - Theophilus ben Annas, son of Annas, High Priest

Yehuda of Gamala - Rebellious leader, pseudo-messiah

THE ROMANS

Augustus - Adoptive son of Julius Caesar, first emperor

Aulus Persius Flaccus - Poet and satirist

Celer \- Tribune

Cestius Gallus - Governor of Roman Syria

Cicero \- Politian, philosopher and writer

Claudius - Nephew of Tiberius, emperor

Cuspius Fadus - Procurator of Judaea

Domitian - Son of Vespasian, emperor

Drusilla - Cousin of Claudius, first wife of Marcus Antonius Felix

Flavius Silva - General and Legate of Judaea

Gaius Asinius Pollio - Roman Consul, patron of Virgil and Horatio

Gaius Caligula \- Nephew of Claudius, emperor

Gaius Quadratus - Governor of Roman Syria

Gaius Rufinus* - Tribune

Gessius Florus - Procurator of Judaea

Helvidius Priscus - Quaestor and senator

Horatio \- Writer and poet

Julius Caesar - General, dictator of Rome

Lucceius Albinus - Procurator of Judaea

Lucilius Bassus - General and governor of Judaea

Lucius Vitelius - Governor of Roman Syria

Lucretius - Philosopher and writer

Marcellus - Prefect of Judaea

Marcus Antonius Felix - Procurator of Judaea

Marcus Cocceius Nerva \- Senator, emperor

Marcus V. Corvinus \- Brother of Messalina, consul

Marullus \- Prefect of Judaea

Nero - Step-son of Claudius, emperor

Ovid - Writer and poet

Pallas - Brother of Marcus Antonius Felix, secretary of Claudius

Pontius Pilate - Prefect of Judaea

Poppaea Sabina - Wife of Nero

Porcius Festus - Procurator of Judaea

Publius C. Thrasea - Father in law of Priscus, senator,

Publius Petronius - Governor of Roman Syria

Silvius Pulanus* - Secretary of Marcus Antonius Felix

Tiberius \- Step-son of Augustus, emperor

Titus - Son of Vespasian, general, emperor

Valeria Messalina - Wife of Claudius

Ventidius Cumanus - Procurator of Judaea

Vespasian \- General, emperor

Vibius Marcus - Governor of Roman Syria

Virgil \- Writer and poet

THE PAGANS

Adad* - Syrian, friend of Ahasver, merchant, proselyte

Aeschylus - Greek, playwright

Aga - Mythical king of Kish

Akakios* - Greek, innkeeper in Ostia

Alexander* - Greek, son of Ioanis

Antiphanes - Greek, writer

Aristarchus* - Greek, theologian, member of the museum of Alexandria

Aristophanes - Greek, playwright

Archimedes - Greek, mathematician and astronomer

Charon - Mythical ferryman of the souls in Hades

Demetria* - Greek, courtesan

Epicurus - Greek, philosopher

Erastus* - Greek, secretary of Lucius Vitelius

Euripides - Greek, playwright

Gilgamesh - Mythical king of Sumer

Homer - Greek, writer

Ioanis* - Greek, secretary of Ahasver

Isidora* - Greek, courtesan

Laertus* - Greek, sculptor

Menander - Greek, playwright

Nikolaus* - Greek, librarian

Plato - Greek, philosopher

Protagoras - Greek, philosopher

Socrates - Greek, philosopher

Sophocles - Greek, playwright

THE GODS

Ahura Mazda - Supreme god of Indo-Persian mythology

Aphrodite - Goddess of Greek mythology (beauty and love)

Apollo - God of Greek mythology (light and truth)

Astarte - Goddess of Phoenician mythology

Baal - God of Phoenician mythology

Chronos - Primeval god of Greek mythology (time)

Dionysus - God of Greek mythology (wine and excesses)

Februus - God of Roman mythology (purification)

Hades - God of Greek mythology (underworld)

Helios - God of Greek mythology (light and sun)

Isis - Goddess of Egyptian and Greco-Roman mythology

Jupiter - Supreme god of Roman mythology

Marduk - God of Babylonian mythology

Mithra - God of Persian and Roman mythology

Nix - Goddess of Greek mythology (of the night and the mysteries)

Osiris - God of Egyptian mythology

Saturn - God of Greek mythology (agriculture)

Serapis - God of Egyptian and Greco-Roman mythology

Sol Invictus - God of Roman mythology (light and sun)

The Lord - Only God of the Judaeans and the Christians

Titans - Primeval gods of Greek mythology

Venus - Goddess of Roman mythology (beauty and love)

Uadjit - Goddess of Egyptian mythology

Zeus - Supreme god of Greek mythology

(*) Fictional

GLOSSARY

PLACES AND GEOGRAPHY

Achaea - Region in the northern Peloponnese

Alexandria - City in Egypt

Antaradus - City in Roman Syria

Antioch - City in Roman Syria (Antakya/Turkey)

Antium - City in Italy (Anzio/Italy)

Apollonia - Port on the north African coast (in Libya)

Arimathea - Town in Judaea

Arwad - City in Roman Syria

Berytus - City in Roman Syria (Beirut/Lebanon)

Bethany - Town in Judaea

Bruttium - Region in the south of Italy (Calabria/Italy)

Buto - City in Egypt (Tell el-Farina/Egypt)

Byblos - City in Roman Syria (in Lebanon)

Caelian Hill - One of the seven hills of Rome

Caesarea (Maritima) - City in Judaea (Caesarea/Israel)

Cafarnaum \- Town in Galilee

Capri - Island in Italy, close to Naples

Cedron Valley - Valley on the eastern side of Jerusalem

Cilicia \- Roman Province in Asia Minor (in Turkey)

Ctesiphon - City in Persia (in Iraq)

Cynosure - Dog's Tail constellation / Polar star

Cyprus - Roman Province / island in the Mediterranean

Damascus - City in Roman Syria

Delphi \- City in Greece, site of the Oracle of Apollo (Delphi)

Domus Tiberiana - One of the imperial residences on the Palatine

Dor \- Town close to Caesarea

Emmaus - Town in Judaea

Ephesus - City in Asia Minor (in Turkey)

Galatia - Roman Province in Asia Minor (in Turkey)

Galilee - Region in Palestine (part of Israel)

Gaul - Roman Province (France)

Hellespont - Strait that links the Aegean to the sea of Marmara

Herculaneum - City in Italy (close to Naples)

Herodium - Fortress south of Jerusalem

Hispania - Roman Province (Iberian Peninsula)

Idumea - Province in Roman Arabia (in Jordan)

Jaffa - City in Judaea (part of Tel-Aviv/Israel)

Jericho - City in Judaea

Jerusalem - City in Judaea

Judaea - Roman Province (in Israel)

Laodicea - City in Roman Syria (Latakia/Syria)

Lycia - Roman Protectorate in Asia Minor (in Turkey)

Mar Nostrum - Mediterranean Sea

Masada - Herodian Fortress, close to the Dead Sea

Meggido - Hill and town in Judaea

Messana - City in the island of Sicily (Messina)

Mount Silpius - High hill close to Antioch

Mount Tabor - High hill in Galilee

Mount Zion - Hill within the city walls of Jerusalem

Museum - An institution dedicated to learning

Nazareth - City in Galilee

Neapolis - City in Italy (Naples)

Ostia - City and main harbor in Italy

Paestum - City in Italy (in Campania/Italy)

Palatine Hill - One of the seven hills of Rome

Pamphylia - Roman territory in Asia Minor (in Turkey)

Patras - City in Achaea (in Greece)

Pereia - Territory east of the Jordan river (in Jordan)

Perga - City in Pamphylia

Persepolis - City in Persia (in Iran)

Pharos - Islet in Alexandria, site of the famous lighthouse

Pillars of Hercules - Promontories that flank the strait of Gibraltar

Pompey \- City in Italy (close to Naples)

Porta Capena - One of the gates of Rome in the Servian Wall

Portus - Ancient harbor close to the city of Ostia

Rhegium - City in Italy (Reggio di Calabria)

Rome - Capital of the Roman Empire

Samaria - Region in the northern part of the West Bank

Samos - Greek island in the Aegean

Seleucia Pieria - City in Roman Syria (Samandag)

Sepphoris - City in Galilee, close to Nazareth

Serapeum - Temple to the god Serapis in Alexandria

Sidon - City in Roman Syria (Sidon)

Syracuse - City in the island of Sicily (Syracuse)

Tiber - River in Italy, crosses Rome

Tiberias - City in Galilee

Thrace - Region between the Danube and the Black Sea

Troy - Mythical city-state in Asia Minor

Tyre - City in Roman Syria (Tyre/Lebanon)

Via Maris - Trade route that linked Egypt to Syria and Babylon

Via Ostiense - Road that linked Ostia to Rome

MEASUREMENT UNITS

Aureus - Monetary unit, of Roman origin, eqv. 25 denarii

Denarius - Monetary unit, of Roman origin, eqv. 4 sestertii

Drachma - Monetary unit, of Greek origin

Gold/Silver Talent - Monetary unit, eqv. a 58,9 kg of gold/silver

League \- Unit of distance, eqv. 2,22 km

Mina - Monetary unit, of Greek origin, eqv. a 50 shekels

Sestertius - Monetary unit, of Roman origin

Shekel - Monetary unit, of Babylonian origin

Stadium - Unit of distance, eqv. 185 m

Talent \- Unit of mass, eqv. weight of water in an amphora

Tyrian Shekel - Monetary unit, only coinage accept in the Temple

JUDAEAN NOMENCLATURE

Ben - Son of

Essenes - Religious group

Dybbuk - Possessing spirit

Hasmonean - Dynasty of Judaea, suppressed by the romans

Kashrut - Dietary laws

Kohanim - Priests

Korban - Temple treasure

Mosaic Law - Set of rules and commands written by Moses

Messianics - Religious group, followers of Jesus Christ

Nasi - President of the Sanhedrin

Nazarene - Denomination for Christians or Essenes

Nisan - Month of April

Pesach - Religious festival (Passover)

Pharisees - Religious group

Rabban - Doctor of the Mosaic Law, sage

Saducees - Religious group

Sanhedrin - Supreme Council

Seder - Ritual feast

Shabbat - Day of rest

Sheol - The land of the dead, the land of nothingness

Sicarii - Radical group, sect of assassins

Torah - The five books of Moses, sacred book

Zealots - Religious radical group

GRECO-ROMAN NOMENCLATURE

Acropolis - Highest point in predominantly Greek cities

Addenda - Plural of Annex

Agora - Public square in predominantly Greek cities

Ambrosia - Mythical food/drink of the Greek gods

Acheron - River in the underworld of Greek mythology

Basilica - Edifice reserved for assemblies

Bireme - A ship of Greek origin, with 2 decks of oars

Cardo - Urban street - north to south orientation

Castrum - Military camp or edifice

Chatti \- Germanic tribe

Consul - Supreme magistrate of Rome

Christians - Religious group, followers of Jesus Christ

Christ - Messiah

Curia - Assembly building of the roman senate

Decumanus - Urban street - east to west orientation

Sacred Disease - Epilepsy

Dominus - Roman salutation, lord, master

Domus - Residential house

Ecclesia - A place for assemblies, church, temple

Erratum - Corrective text of a published work

Forum - Public square in predominantly roman cities

Hades - The underworld in Greek mythology

Insula - Residential building with multiple floors

Iseum - Temple in honor of the goddess Isis

Khaire - Greek salutation

Koine - Greek dialect in the antiquity

Legate - General / Governor of a roman province

Ludi - Plays and theatrical games

Mega Khaire - Greek salutation

Mithraeum - Temple in honor of the god Mithra

Murmillones - Roman gladiators, used shield and sword

Olympus - Mythical residence of the Greco-Roman gods

Oracle - Prophetic prediction

Palatine - Designation of the Imperial palaces of Rome

Parthians - Persians

Patera - Father

Patrician - Roman aristocrat

Pax romana - Period of relative peace in the roman empire

Pythia - Priestess of the temple of Apollo in Delphi

Prefect - High roman official, responsible for military and civil rule

Praetor - Roman magistrate, responsible for judiciary affairs

Pretorium - Government seat of a roman Prefect/Procurator

Princeps - Title of a member of the imperial family

Procurator - High roman official, responsible for military and civil rule

Publican - Tax collector at the service of Rome

Quaestor - Senate supervisor for judicial and fiscal affairs

Retiarii - Roman gladiators, used a net and a trident

Rostra - Platform in a forum for official speeches

Salve - Roman salutation, singular

Salvete - Roman salutation, plural

Septuagint - Greek translation of the five books of Moses, the Pentateuch

Sophos - Scholar / wise man

Speculatores - Messengers and agents of the Imperial guard

Stabulum - Inn

Taberna - Public place for the serving of drinks

Tartarus - Mythical place in the Greek underworld

Thermopolium - Public place for the serving of food and meals

Thracian - Roman gladiator, use curved sword and shin guards

Triclinium - Dining-room in Greco-Roman residences

Trireme - A ship of Greek origin, with 3 decks of oars (180 rowers)

Vale - Roman salutation

Villa - Residence of a wealthy roman

Vox populi - The voice of the people

Ziggurat - Ancient temple in Babylon

