CHAPTER FIVE
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Tribune Marcus Cato sent word that he’d come talk with Dion Eros at the centrally-located inn that afternoon. After their arrival by ship, the Greek-born detective chose here to room in the hope of meeting Temple worshipers who frequented the nearby inn. Sextus decided to stay at the barracks the Empire maintained at Herod’s military citadel. He enjoyed the camaraderie and could learn news of Rome as it came from Syria. Thus far they’d made little progress; they had no reliable informant yet to aid their investigation.
Cato asked the pair, “Has your month not been tedious?” more to prepare Sextus and Eros than evidence concern. Eros sat on his cot borrowed from the barracks and Sextus was at the window. Neither had inclination to sit at the center table and across from the Tribune. Behind Eros was a shelf of few “Spartan” possessions he allowed himself: brush, towel, changes of garments.
The narrow window opposite gave Sextus a view upon the splendorous Temple. Perhaps this was in the mind of the original owner who gave the name “the Migdol”, i.e. watchtower to the inn 40 years ago. And judging by their attire, Sextus thought that those entering would have access to all the Temple grounds. When he had gone there weeks ago wearing the uniform, he was restricted to a “strangers” court. That area proved poorly conducive to meditation or prayer, unless one hearing bleating, mooing and chirping wished to pray for the penned animals soon to be sacrificed! Sextus preferred any of hundreds of worship shrines kept outside of eretz-Israel for being “pagan”, in accordance with ancient Hebrew scripture. As he looked below to see passers-by, Sextus leaned out a little and took care not to spill wine out of the rather full cup.
Sextus and Eros disregarded his “tedious” comment and the Tribune continued, “There isn’t much to learn about Nazareth’s dead carpenter between here and Galilee. And if there were, you could not expect to have Jews’ cooperation or their hospitality. They speak in Greek to you, or perhaps Latin, but never in Hebrew; they’re not about to have soldiers learn the language. After the crucifixion,” it was Cato’s opinion, “the Jews, by and large, are relieved to not have him around.”
You, Tribune, have spoken of Jews and inhospitality–yet you have not provided us help at all! It would also have been part of Sextus’ charge: Instead, you only point us to old, dusty files to be reading through. So thought the investigator... but he did not say it. Alternately, Sextus drank more wine. In doing that his pattern was to match the breezes that blew through here with sips of wine. Thus far the afternoon had been “breezy”.
“Jews are stiff-necked and stubborn as any you’ll find. Their merchants,” Cato continued, “sell to us, yes, but their genuine wish is for us to go and leave ‘the Land’ to them! Craftsmen repair our wheels and make brackets and whatever else we have need of, but behind those doors of their shops they beat out knives for Zealots to use!”
Bewildered with this rant, Eros remained silent even while the Tribune paused for water.
“Zealots walk into their fate when they are caught, by being dispatched on the spot, save for the occasional trial where one or two are brought out and their charges get read for the public to hear. This may stave off some who are considering having a Zealot’s life themselves. Do the merchants want commerce with us like what they enjoy with their countrymen? ‘No,’ I’d answer; even any trade with us, they claim, hinders their keeping their law. I cannot fathom it, really. If soldiers occasionally eat pork, and we can’t have the critters going everywhere with us, then meat must be raised and purchased on the land, and making use of the marketplaces. This is offensive to their commandment-keeping. Much of the religion of theirs remains rather obscure!”
Eros again would have offered him a drink, but not enough time had gone by since last he did that, and the sun was in no hurry to lengthen the shadows sufficiently, leaving the Tribune “on duty”. With it a scheduled day off for them, Sextus and Eros were allowed the drinking.
“Consider, Tribune,” Eros began his point, “by our restriction of Jews performing punishment for their own capital offenses–according to stipulations of their religion–we limit their practice of religion. I am specifically thinking of those who hear “heresy” charged against them. This leaves unresolved how ‘the Way’ and its propagating of fancies are to be controlled and eliminated here. There is much frustration over this ‘Way’. We create a ‘safe haven’ for them.” Eros came and sat across from Tribune Cato. “Oddly, it was but a few years ago that Rome and Pontius Pilate assisted by eliminating the wayward founder of this sect. And his teaching is being put forward by these followers. True, Cato, mostly it’s Pharisees and some Sanhedrin Sadducees that see this present danger from the sect, but our Department of Vigilance in Rome clearly suspects it and has designed ‘the Way’ in this investigation. Only after it’s completed will widespread effective action be taken.”
Cato laughed at the seriousness of Eros’ talk. “Your fine Department wouldn’t know a Jew given to subversiveness if it sat on one!” He was thinking foremost of the Zealots–those militant Jews that have no patience.
“We have come to snip any buds forming and let these fall to the ground, if they haven’t gone beyond that stage already. Some fear it is so! Anyone desiring to, may learn what ‘soldier readiness’ as constancy within the Empire must do to avoid any compromise. Although the Department is a great distance away, we Vigiles recognize this sect is a threat that has ability to ‘alter’. Yet here, you and others doing the officiating–” Eros broke his statement off midstream. He was not really willing yet to condemn. Cato took no slight–what had not been said, wasn’t said.
Hadn’t Jesus been crucified?–Eros reminded. Then, by Jupiter!, those teachings of his were also wrong, and still wrong, he maintained. Although Greeks often mock Rome’s pantheon of gods, Eros nevertheless here attributed sacredness to Rome’s Jupiter so as to not slight one of Cato’s probable favorites. Eros continued to press a point, “We gave the Jews what they demanded–but if Annas hadn’t been removed as their High Priest 20 years ago by us, he would have legally and long ago, carried all this that we now have present to a conclusion. So in this we are meddling–”
“Rome could not abide his incessant ‘bloodletting’; besides, we need live ones to send on to gladiatorial games!” Cato was most brief in rejecting Eros’ contention.
But Eros kept on, “The sect is ‘foreign’, and by that I mean: even from this earth! It seems this ‘Jesus of Nazareth’ has reached the heavens wherein heroes reside. When it is we secure a ‘lowdown’ on him, our next step will be to lessen devotion that many express to him.” Eros intentionally didn’t exaggerate; he did not want Cato to have any points of disagreement. “The attitudes that this sect within this country has threatens us. Your garrison is under-strength?”
The Tribune snorted. “‘Under-strength’ puts it mildly! Every Tribune has called, in reports, for increase in troop strength. The decline had its start with Augustus. Tiberius has now made beggars of us–the old goat! Troop numbers here, at one time, were legion strength–now it’s my 150 lads. ‘Hard to keep wheat fields in high enough production for export with that few of workers. None of us has ‘changed’, though–there’s no influence of ‘the Way’ upon us. It may be a contention for Jews themselves.” His frustration was a lack of adequate troop strength, not any Jewish tradition. This was opportunity for Eros to zing in:
“That’s another reason for letting Jewish leaders penalize their own. They have manpower for doing so.”
Cato looked at Eros as if he were Annas’ incarnation of bloodthirsty evil. That one then managed to shift the discussion to a less contentious topic.
“The letters we receive ask if we would like to wager against Caligula’s receiving the next emperor wreathe. How would you have us bet?” Eros asked.
The Tribune rapped knuckles on the tabletop forcefully. “Our hope is he becomes our next Caesar!” Cato explained the “knock”: “You have the Greek Zeus with ‘mighty oak tree’. See, I have knocked on wood to have him listening!” Cato eyed Sextus with expectation towards gaining that one’s approval. “It’s ‘universal’, my religion–I take ‘the good’ from many!” The smile was filled with satisfaction.
Sextus remembered a saying that was his fathers. A man with two religions has no religion. But the soldier-detective kept this remark to himself. What he did say, however, was, “Rome cuts down wood for crosses to be raised. Apparently our luck improves when fewer criminals are around!” (Sextus’ turn to get the askance look from Tribune Cato!)
Eros sensed in the silence here that it was for him to dispel it. “How might having Caligula help here?” he asked.
“Well,” Cato began prompt reply, “Augustus lingers on. He has given the Jewish religion new legitimacy by banning Egyptian and Asian cults from Rome. Also, he wants our national religious observance to all Roman gods to see increase, with more ritual and song–you know, you’re there in Rome. He wants marriages among more Romansand these to all have larger families. But with Caligula in that place... we probably could expect more troops to be delivered!” His own laugh caused Eros to do so as well.
Eros told, “You need additional troops... and more investigators, surely!” In a not-so-strident way Eros was asking for them to be given these troops from the garrison, here, and right now!
“Caligula–‘Little Boot’ is a nickname he will allow. It was years ago as a lad, and along the Rhine, he marched beside us. His father had made for him a miniature legionnaire’s outfit.” In his mentioning the name “Little Boot” again, Cato laughed. He also told, “Germanicus, his father the general, was my first to so serve. I cannot imagine a step-son of Caesar, in turn, having a son that does not follow traditions similar to the ones his father laid down.”
Eros took over wine for refilling Sextus’ cup. He hoped that the Tribune, in seeing wine be poured into Sextus’ cup, might yield and permit himself to drink with them. But no to that; and the shadows were nowhere near having a suffient length to convince Cato that dusk had finally arrived.
“You have not found devotees yet,” Eros complained, returning to Cato at the table.
“No, and not likely. ‘Misfits’, they are. They run. They’ll leave you two alone. Eros and Sextus: Why have such concern they are left alone? Their number is small. A misguided bunch, they are–I grant you that, but–”
“The Department of Vigilance does feel–” Though Eros began to explain that view, the Tribune continued and talked over him.
“Our worries surpass these folk. No one can disagree.” Cato was drawn to Sextus, silent and standing at the window. He arose and approached with a clinking to the little extra armor he wore. He nudged the detective aside to have his place at the window. He told them about a regrettable experience.
“The fanatic followers of ‘the Christ’ have vacated Jerusalem–I’ll wager. Exposure means their ruin, and not, frankly, by us.” He pointed to the public square on this side of the Temple, and then stepped aside for Sextus to see the spot. “Pious Jews,” that start was charged with resentment, “took it upon themselves to stone a man over there not four months ago. My soldiers could but look on. They’d been restricted by Caesar not to interfere with the Jewish affairs. And a spontaneous mob fell into that category. Sextus eyed the Tribune and drank from his wine cup. Eros did not need to see the square–it was his window and usual view.
“That man cried for help. Yet cunning and cruel, they presented an appearance of being a mob full of religious frenzy. It was all a calculation on their part to perform an execution, pure and simple.”
Grizzly thought Eros, but they had all seen worse.
After a couple of minutes, Cato relaxed and asked, “Eros and Sextus: Is this our forcing of Roman law upon them? I have said portions of their law lack civility, are coarse, and it has punishments disproportionate to the crimes.” He did not elaborate. “Do keep that sect in mind this way: they are like cockroaches and a nuisance, but not a danger. Moreover, all creatures have ‘natural enemies’ here in Palestine.”
Having tried without success to interrupt him earlier, Eros let the Tribune give his conclusion. After all, he was a higher rank. Eventually, though, Eros got to complain again and this he did with a mild manner.
“You can say those of the sect are no danger. Yes, I can tell you, to youthey are no danger. But I would feign tussle one as strong as you to the floor myself! Maybe with Sextus’ help...”
Cato laughed.
Eros continued, “Those who follow this ‘Way’ teaching show themselves dangerous when their beliefs (Eros had pointed to his chest) become thoughts that others have (he now pointed to Cato’s forehead).” Then in concluding, Eros pointed back and forth between his own heart and mind, saying, “This is where the battleground is for us.”
Cato straightened in an inner conflict, and turned unkind. With slight mockery in the voice he rhetorically asked, “And for this ‘problem’ Rome sends out two investigators?” Next he tried reckless banter as a way of easing his heart. “Tell me, which of you asks his questions? And which one twists the arms?” From his place at the window Cato eyed Eros in saying this, but now the Tribune addressed Sextus close by. “I’ll have you to know, sir, I’m bound to give all protection to people here, from their oppressors, ‘badgerers’, too, even if they be from the patrician class.”
Sextus hadn’t been expecting that and didn’t think Cato to be even serious. It was Eros to fashion the retort:
“Two discern where information lies, better than one, Tribune. The very next question to be asked may be the better one, this coming from the alternate investigator. That’s how investigation is.” He nodded to assure; however, the Tribune’s facial expression was unchanged. This was Cato’s “sea” and Eros seemingly made no headway upon it. “You have mentioned ‘two’. Have you awareness that, Cato, there are, in fact, two investigations going on here? He (Sextus) is assigned directly by Pontius Pilate himself, and I give reports to the Department of Vigilance. All three of us–again he was pointing–have mutual undertaking here that requires greater actions than what has taken place here to date. Find·us·believers, Cato!” he accentually asked.
The little-heard-from Roman investigator assured, “We have no informants; troops of yours can reach far more people with our questions. It is straightforward.”
Cato–was that a nod?–perhaps it was, but he wasn’t going to commit his ‘yes’. It remained for the Tribune to contend, “You unfortunately have listened to too many of their synagogue rulers here. They may moan and sound dire about being infiltrated by ‘the Way’; however, ask yourselves this: ‘How, on earth, can a single man impact–much less, jeopardize–a religion that has been in existence for a thousand years without much change at all?”
Eros might be working against his own position, but he still had to correct a wrong number. “Two thousand years.”
“Further proves my point! This religion long predates our Empire.”
Eros know this history well too. “Since time of the Republic, we’re at 60 and adding to the count.” His crossing his arms added to the grave intoning, “But how long shall we continue in this count?”
The Tribune enjoyed his rank and was keen on arguing. “I know of no soldier knifed by one of the participants in ‘the Way’.” He paused to let them understand this. “Always it’s the Jews with their religion to defend! Robbers fund insurrections that Zealots will kill to achieve. These are the elements that when caught rightly pay by having crucifixions.”
Sextus resumed looking out the window. It took ever-more sips of wine, in his ‘sentry duty’ here, to keep up with those breezes; but, he had to admit: perhaps too many breezes had already blown by.
“Others,” Cato was brief in remarking, “want to play at making this or that religious distinction. We let them do that.” He was showing a “hands-off” gesture.
Sextus wanted to sit down.
Eros was rubbing his neck as indicator he felt Cato missed the mark with his comments. Gradually, and with no sure knowledge of how he might conclude this, Eros began to explain about Orthodox Jews. He had a confidence that truthwould jump in at just the right moment and speak...
“When Pontius Pilate did the parade march that entered the city, what, 11 years ago?–to celebrate the new appointment of Governor, recall that folk pushed out the soldiers carrying their cast-metal eagles everywhere atop tall stanchions. The Jews were against the images and forced the marching soldiers out through gates and up to the road leading north again. How few a number of soldiers, do you think, were knifed that day? But in contrast, how many folk would have been willing enough to forfeit their own lives to keep Commandments upheld?” Eros had asked a good couple of questions, but it was his mention of Pontius Pilate that had Sextus wondering.
The Tribune without reluctance answered, “No soldiers–none that I heard of. But mind you, I wasn’t there. You’ve asked how many Jews had willingness to sacrifice their own lives? I’m not sure you know the answer, but I suspect there would have been a great number of these here. Yet, aren’t faces of those so committed as to do that intimidating? Picture that contempt in their angry faces!” The argument seemed a little weak to both his listeners.
Eros had been brought to a half-smile, and he was satisfied that through this illustration he had shown the Tribune that the traditional Jews were far less a danger being posed than any now of ‘the Way’.
The Tribune was philosophical. “All over this province a new sect will ‘bubble up’ from time to time. One who is bright and has ‘a story’ to tell, if that person happens to lack the 30 years age requirement, gets told to just wait. Jewish elders eventually permit him when the appropriate birthday comes ‘round–but meanwhile, they have been talking to him a lot. Eventually, it comes down to ‘You’re 30 and more sensible now.’”
Tribune Cato started looking out the window again, at small groups that gathered here and there. “It’s not this formalized when it comes to their Zealots however. These are allowed to act out terror whatever their ages! Their message is to proclaim ‘Armed strength is what matters the most!’” To Eros he now spoke, “Many of your ‘regular’ Jews tolerate this message so that it fully circulates and is unobstructed.” Cato safely spat down between a few passers-by. Looking back to Sextus he as much warned, “I tell you this concerning Zealots–they are ripe for action of the most devious kind!”
He began walking in the room as he told that two, “Now that Jesus of theirs–he was bothersome.” And this topic might be their one area of agreement to have today... “Its being seen as a showy ‘victory parade’ during Passover made priests jealous with his coming into town that way! Those followers and others gathering and proceeding along–how they all clapped! and shouted! I’ve been told they threw cloaks down ahead of the donkey as he passed. Grand, yes–too grand!”
Thinking of the procession, an almost ‘detached’ Eros said, “Like for ‘David’ of their olden times.”
“Like for their King David,” Sextus sharpened the detail.
“It was,” Cato said with exuberance, “their telling all the world, ‘Here comes our hero!’ That Nazareth fellow was becoming a new ‘demigod’ much as a war-winning general enters Rome and is honored–well, if Caesar doesn’t step in and take that praise for it.” Marcus Cato had a splendorous picture of cascading flowers in his mind along with shouts–many of them–of “Hurrah!” The Tribune also had this he would have them consider: “When Jewish Temple officials accused the leader Jesus of assuming status of a king, well, that charge wasn’t really so farfetched.” He cleared his throat. “I must say, had he ‘his smarts’, he would not have–”
Eros resented even that thought of giving advice to one whose teachings were a threat to their combative edge the troops had. The teaching could surreptitiously produce defects in the spirit of men who were to conquer and defend.
“–chose the time of a festival for doing those things. Eros,” Cato noticed the standoffishness, “I have only heard this was the way of it–I was in Syria at the time. And take it as a sure fact: three-quarters of my men never witnessed any of that Passover week either.”
Sextus was still back with the thinking about King David. “Who’d want to be king? They steal your praise. They steal your jewelry...”
Eros considered Cato’s explanation but back-paddling and the making excuse: “But were there not 150 soldiers encircling and taunting him in that courtyard of the citadel? And a great number of these within spitting distance? Gather any up for us who will go out, ready with Sextus’ and my questions to ask.” Emotion, for Eros, was like a fast-rolling wave; he directed: “Soldiers of yours pushed to the front that they might mash the man–let them now participate to confirm that they, long ago, were perfectly right!”
Cato used silence to begin his response–it would either be one very profound or one seemingly weak. Eros had grown tired of this man’s style and went to sitting again on the cot. From there he had full view of his room and the other two.
“I... I...” Cato tried twice to begin. He withdrew himself from the window and walking and came over to sit down. “I cannot send out troops. Besides, there is no proof given me here today that the sect devotees are here.” He sat on the side with the bench closer to the door.
Sextus looked at the table in the room center and thought That is where opposing views are hammered out! Eros wished Marcus would accept the offer of a drink, and perhaps following that, another. The Tribune, for his part, was appraising the investigators. This is an intimidating pair!
Irrespective of the dead preacher having a jaded past, informants they needed would only be developed as a result of approaching dozens and dozens of people with questions Sextus and Eros wanted to ask. Naturally, the festival time in Jerusalem was best–people came in from all the towns spread across Israel.
“Sextus, you’ll find it interesting that all our yearly Tribunes agree with your uncle’s verdict of ‘death’ for the man. The priests appearing before him were quite confident that Jesus would be executed eventually, either by Pontius Pilate or themselves. But by the Governor doing this, he secured praise from two groups: those Sanhedrin rulers who brought the criminal charge, and Herod with whom there were known differences.” Increasingly, Cato’s tone became critical. “So as you and Eros have frothed over in this threat where you imagine the dead man’s teaching will be used to subvert all, I just have to shake my head... He was, after all, weak. Evidence him at his trial. He made no proper defense, and following his example, ‘the Way’ believers show the same weakness.”
Eros doubted this and asked Sextus whether Pilate would derive comfort from any of these words. The nephew of the famous Governor moved his head, signaling ‘no’. And by now, frankly, Sextus had become ‘disgusting’ to himself; he’d failed this afternoon to give Eros adequate support for the arguments. Yes. Blame it on the wind! Sextus was standing at the window again, but just for the air, with no more drinking. Cato was about to take advantage of Sextus’ continuing silence.
“Your uncle, Sextus, was weak in facing them. Had Marcus Crassus been serving when priests came to Pilate accusing a carpenter of a crime worthy of death, he’d have given Jesus an opportunity of constructing crosses for that crowd. And he’d have lined the road to Galilee with those Sanhedrin members and the rowdy crowd! Lastly, he would have told Jesus of Nazareth, “And when you’re done, you can go home.”
The Tribune thought the two here may benefit from his rendition of a crucifixion. He stood and stepped back from the table. He outstretched his arms and held them up, and he began making slow groans. His head he dropped and moved this side-to-side, always with groans.
Utterly grotesque! Sextus considered this performance. Eros, however, did not think it unseemly at all and gave enthusiastic applause. Cato, noticing there no comment or clapping from Sextus, looked to see if he approved, and the nephew, seeing his eyes, gave a ready smile along with claps. Whereupon, Cato let himself “die”.
Afterward, when he had sat with a thud at the table, Cato drank extended droughts of water. Eros pleased the Tribune with his comments. Eventually, Marcus Cato took to speaking about his generals of the past.
“Germanicus. He knew well how to deal with opposition. Once I saw him–” and, off he was on a reminiscence.
Eros thought to “regroup” for his own thought. Jerusalem is a dull city... He went to Sextus and nudged that one to have him return to the table and to become Cato’s listener. He now surveyed scenery as he had a dozen times before. Buildings are drab... famed though it is, that Temple would not rate for much, in Rome... but, there, that Garden of Gethsemane–it looks pleasant. I must visit there someday. And Eros occasioned here much more thought.
(He’d had almost no difficulty convincing those in the Department that “the Way” has teachings that pose great threat. Vigiles aimed to forestall with forward-thinking all such problems that begin within the Empire. It was at borders that the gods protected, and soldiers made frequent donations that provided often-enough sacrifices to the deities. But within the far-reaching provinces of Rome’s acquiring, many residents retained cautiousness of Rome’s ways.)
Regardless of protests that come from synagogues that they unwillingly serve as hosts for the doctrinaire ‘Way’ members, overall the Jews seem organized in rejecting Roman ways. They do take ‘natural wariness’ too far in excluding non-Jews and have become known for it. It is rare to find an “invited in” Gentile–into their homes, their trust or into their religion. But, happen to be a Jew–you have the access to freely discuss Jesus’ first teaching. Many, there are said to be, attend synagogue and go along with this giving him praise, though he’s dead. But should there come a dread day...
(Significant things could happen on a single day–as when Eros’ personal life changed its status from slave to being a freeman.)
...that “Jesus” advocates sufficiently access the Gentile mind, it could mark the beginning of an Empire-wide predicament where it’s no longer their “Jewish” problem. Such is possible–and lacking Vigiles’ intervention–more than probable. An acceptance by the public-at-large would foist to them a major operational security threat...
(Eros and Sextus were not shy knowing only a few remote incidents of Jesus of Nazareth’s history. There were not just sojourns into Jerusalem streets to initiate contacts, but these two visited 15 of the more than 20 synagogues here, only to hear him routinely described and denounced as “an apostate from Judaism”. But at one synagogue an attendee was found who expressed his sympathy for adherents to “the Way”. He they summoned to a later meeting with the investigators who began their talk with him with great confidence. This soon deteriorated, however, all being disrupted by the information that the man questioned was–all to their surprise–a recent convert himself: to Judaism! It seemed his sympathy toward those in a conversion of their religion was not specific to “the Way”!)
Obviously, Jesus or his disciples carefully protected his past from true scrutiny–Eros held this out as an overriding certainty. There’s a ‘history’ there to be found–this had become Eros’ “pet theory”. His teaching referenced many foibles, those troubled situations people have; their rabid desires. There was every reason to suspect these had come from Jesus’ own life of misdeeds done! As a teacher, he skillfully brought them to the surface couched in his parables. This, then, would absolve him of his guilty conscience,Eros thought. Jesus had, through this method, “made confession”, but that one also let the listeners quickly know they were no better!
Cato, from the beginning, foresaw this search of theirs to uncover the “hidden years” of Jesus’ was to be a tough dig. Eros and Sextus learned that the rabbis considered his youth of religious instruction typical. But while it is commendable to know, it becomes praiseworthy to teach–and there was his capacity in preaching to variously quote easily from the scripture. As well, all remarked and generally marveled how he had crafted the many interesting parables of such variety.
If required, Eros would have to admit that all this time he had spent in his view toward learning what was hypocritical in the preacher’s teaching about holiness was, to his own Greek and increasingly-Roman spirit, deceitful and corruptive. But never mind that: his and Sextus’ divulging the truth yet to be discovered, in an effort that is widespread to publicize all, would end this meandering by “the Way” outside its tried-and-true Judaism. The prospects of this were so overwhelmingly satisfying that Eros “offered a toast” right where he stood at the window, cup in hand, albeit it was but a silent one that honored Sextus and himself.
“I think I have not heard so much as ‘a peep’ out of you, Sextus. Have you not the same dread of this sect as well? Shall Eros always take the lead, have all the fun?”
“Well, yes, I shall talk. Tribune, this investigation had beginning with a letter Pilate had sent requesting I journey from Rome to assist him with matters of business. Gaul, far away–though this makes it farther still–made me hesitate to be asking for the necessary time off. But the head of Vigilance inquired about the letter I received and afterward told me to go. Beyond this, Nevis Macro approved the request Eros made to accompany. There’s nothing much else I’ve thought about since! Eros, too, learned first-hand about Pilate’s incessant fear that these teachings of the man he had crucified not one mile from here would affect our Roman citizens, and not for the betterment of the Empire. I confess that I knew little about how the followers lived. They represented no threat I had heard of. Frankly, it is Eros and Pilate who are closer in their views; yet, utmost is how Pilate is perturbed! He has lost sleep and in the daytime his head pains him. The teachings of Jesus’–no matter how banal the first appear–do foment the minds of devotees to have an excited state. And to tell you, Tribune, for us opposing them, it is a mental anguish. Is it a ‘threat coming from the heavens’? Can it be called that, as being, now, somewhat against the Roman people? So you see, Tribune, in both the ‘external’ and ‘internal’ ways, this sect threatens.”
As Cato listened, he was trying to understand.
“Jews, you certainly know, are a closed bunch.” Sextus further explained, “As teachings that were his do spread, it becomes difficult to manage. Yet, the time for ending this nonsense is now!” He was well backing-up the investigation now, and Sextus sought to bring his uncle’s words nearer. “This is a straightforward, decent request coming from Pontius Pilate to you, Cato. It is ‘regimental assistance’ he asks for, and I have the belief that when he reads an assemblage of ‘truth’ concerning Jesus, he shall become himself and well again. As it is, he is animated and agitated when he speaks of it.”
Eros would like to have applauded!
It seemed that Cato was amidst a revelation. “As many Jews do have strong dislike for this Nazarene, a passel of facts that you can deliver could get disseminated through their synagogue chain. I don’t know to what extent he has a corrupted past; I can see, though, where others will take his faults and sermonize about them to take ‘potshots’ at his memory.”
Sextus neatly affirmed, “Jews will be industrious to have that news spread.”
“Yes. I agree,” Cato basically gave echo to his own previous remark.
Sextus knew to capitalize and laid all before the Tribune. “Dion Eros has the notion that Jews’ belief in this Jesus will likely transmigrate, and like a spark it will fire up and affect upwards of half the Empire! With its spread, mind you, this makes the deities of Rome the ‘foreign’ ones! The sect promises far more heaven than we do. Right now, this sits here as a single flame, but soon, the right winds for it will blow. Come down hard (!) at it, and it becomes extinguished... yet if we fail to curb his teaching, it will ignite us and what we have.”
“A flame, and behind it, a wind,” torturously the Tribune spoke of a distasteful future.
Sextus now revealed what he had not yet told to his accompanying investigator. “I haven’t interviewed a ‘Way’ adherent. There is, though, a young woman who accompanied from Gaul. Her having lived here, years ago, she can tell what does transpire at those meetings. You have, in fact, said what she thinks, that there is none of ‘the Way’ here.”
“And what does she say of their meetings?” he asked.
“That, basically, they dwell in sloppy, fond memories of this one they deem ‘a savior’. They’ve learned, each of them, a parable or two he spoke; and since he succeeded in writing nothing down, those with the accurate memories of him are listened to.”
Cato was listening and not questioning.
Sextus continued and focused on the departure of it from Judaism. “They sing Psalms, as do Jews generally; but followers have urge to write new songs. A topic chosen, over and over, is ancient prophecy fulfilled. Others they’ve composed give him praise with exalted names–these they’ve sung as if he were still alive among them, and listening.” Sextus shook his head and smiled, “He resides in heaven and here both.”
Cato exhaled deeply. “Half-man, half-god... by Jupiter, that’s wrong! They’re making him out to be akin to one of our gods.” Eros joined these two as they were wagging heads together in disapproval of what a vast cultural change might be in store.
“The gods are a bit of a nuisance,” Cato admitted. “I’m not certain that so many Romans always believe what is claimed about them. The gods do show prowess at protecting our borders–and we soldiers rely heavily on that. But with rise of doubt, our people might be accepting of such a Jew.” Sextus and Eros allowed and approved of the conclusions he was generating, especially his asked comment “Will the beliefs of ‘the Way’ you are tracking down grow in popularity to undermine the general soldier performance when they must square off against barbarians?”
“Pontius Pilate shares this same contention. You are echoing his concern,” remarked Sextus, and Eros added, “He addresses this from the political perspective of what is, essentially, a religious debate. It is a critical-enough possibility that requires our political action. In this, the Department of Vigilance has voiced its agreement.” Eros didn’t know what more could be said.
Cato was averse to making similar comment openly, but he said, “I agree with Eros: Jews have themselves a unique problem. If people go on repeating his statements said of some now in the synagogues, officials will find themselves very busy telling why they took actions against him. By the way, what are those names he called them?”
“‘Blind leaders of the blind, to the end they all fall in the ditch!’ he made the charge against them also that they were a ‘generation of vipers’–first said by the Baptizer and then taken up by him. ‘Hypocrite’ is the word that gets thrown around most often in his speech,” Eros told.
Cato harbored resentments against the lot. “Leaders extol righteousness, yet they have let Zealots play havoc against us. Were the Romans gone from the province that we inure to call ‘Israel’ for them for their festive days, they’d surely then require all Zealots to conform exactly to model citizenry!”
But for all this listening and explaining, had the two truly edged the Tribune closer to share with them the concern? Sextus considered the man to have less knowledge than the average Jew about Jesus. Yet he was the one to give authorization for their having troops as their questioning force.
Sextus reaffirmed, “We’ll not pry into people’s private lives. No, our concern is for learning one man’s past.” Eros matter-of-factly summarized their statements of the possibility of this phenomenon being injected into lives of Empire citizens, and the danger therein of the belief a dead man who Rome killed has since gone into heaven and is there now to be worshiped for the blessings he bestows! This, Sextus explained, was against the popular notion that Rome was the collective fate for all–no need was there for anyone to cling to a ‘personal Savior’! Did anyone, Eros asked, think so highly of Jews that they wanted them to be credited with the start of a new religion that’s universal? Reports have him saying a lot of ‘I am (this), and I am (that)’,” Eros bitterly complained, “but who, I ask, ever bothered to determine who the man actually was?”
There was news that Eros could conclude with. “The Department will arrange to send additional agents here.” But as to just when, he didn’t know. “These are going to see through this crack in the wall of his carefully-preserved obscurity! Today’s ‘unlearned’ listen without curiosity, but the priests who seem, too, to not know ‘bupkis’ about him and his raising will be told–and it is they who will condemn him again and put an end these others preaching his doctrine!”
The sun, the shadows told, was far enough in final display that it was safely time for the Tribune to have that drink he wanted. “I would be thankful for your ordering posca for me now,” he requested of Eros, who then exited.
“Posca–that is good liquor for a soldier,” Sextus was having explained to him. He had drunk the watered-down, sour wine–occasionally with an herb addition–but did not like it. Many did though.
Eros returned and poured the Tribune’s cup full. Half was soon gone, and then not much longer after that, a second was being requested. ‘Ole Cato began to sound his self-preferred ‘fatherly’ way:
“I arrived in Judea two years ago. At first, I had a slave. That man was, naturally, a Hebrew who had gotten himself into great debt and found this to be a way to pay it off. Not long afterward, he let himself be unduly influenced by those who are Jesus devotees–”
Cato broke the storytelling off at his having a chance to grin at Sextus. That investigator was showing rapt attention especially now. “Oh, no, friend–didn’t I say ‘had’ a slave? There isn’t anything there that will help you. When people around heard he was of ‘the Way’, no longer could he be sent to the shops. And were I to, he’d return, showing bruises! Yet, he was property of a Roman!” This was the great objection Cato had.
These shrewd investigators were showing similar offense at the callous disregard of Roman property. With that sentiment of theirs in his purse, he decided he had let them talk long enough about their ‘Way’ project. “I am not trying to interfere with this work you’ve set out for yourselves,” he said, “but... it is just that you are asked to become ‘more unassuming’ in your inquiry.” His eyes were on his cup and which contents he was swirling nicely. He took another measured drink and set it down in a determined fashion. “‘Less demanding,’” he clarified. “So make it apparent that you are ‘requesting’ their information.” He also advised Sextus and Eros next to, “Use a sedate tone in expressing what information it is you wish to learn. Just this morning the Governor was saying this, and he asked that I pass it along to you.”
So, that’s it! Eros’ heart exclaimed in distress. The reason–the only real reason–he’s called on us today. “Just this morning, the Governor–”; noxious to him to have those words play through the mind again. We're to sweet talk the ones who won’t talk to you in the first place!
Eros looked at Sextus, with whom he had daily associated and worked with for several months. All were at that table, but he spoke as if the Tribune were not only not at their table, but not there in the room at all.
“That Cato!”
“Yeah, that Cato!” Sextus replied, reaching over and taking the cup away from in front of the man. He concluded the last of their little drama by saying, “He’s not evil, just bad.”
Cato may have had rank, but not enough rank.
It was silent there for awhile; one could hear the occasional inn guest walking by in the hallway. They were sifting the words the Tribune had said. Hadn’t Sextus and Eros on their own learned paltry little since their arrival and beginning the work here? Now they were commanded to have milder methods of interrogation. The paying out of money had not worked here; they were about to the point where they would rule out further patience. It had come to the time, in their estimation, to begin “prying” the information out.
By their eyes they managed to let Tribune Cato know he was back in “the room” again, and he resumed with telling the story of the servant he’d begun earlier. “That slave proved unsatisfactory as a servant. Though quick and willing enough, he never had full regard for me as ‘master’ after that marketplace beating he had received. I sold him to a slaver traveling north.” There had been a somewhat disguised satisfaction in that last point as Cato told it, and Sextus wondered if Marcus Cato might not eventually wish to be rid of his two investigators in the same way?
Hardly conciliatory was his minimal assistance to now be offered. “I do not mind lending you clerks for the additional files to be handed over, but there is this insistent Governor directing me that there is to be no trouble that arises from your investigations.”
“More posca?” Eros invited him, sincerely.
Cato smiled; “No, thanks,” he said.
It was imperative they find a reliable informant, but finding that would be more difficult now. It was during the voyage here from Gaul that the nephew of Pilate had the idea to adopt the ploy where they both appear open-minded about “the Way”. As “seekers” they would contend that knowing his past–all of it–could allow their better understanding the teaching. Sextus felt it regrettable when Eros declined to accept the plan, saying he could not act this part out convincingly. It was Eros as well who maintained that there was no time for such indirectness. They were to battle soon! he said, in fierce struggle with a non-entity that would bring to their knees thousands of fellow-soldiers.
In this room Eros felt Rome and the Department to be far away; farther still, his boyhood Sicily. He accepted a transient, lovely yearning for those beaches.
But, what the hell?
“Certainly good posca. Can’t do a soldier harm. I shall have some more.” Cato sounded unusually jovial but flitted troubled eyes back and forth to the door. He was rambling on, now, about food!
Whatever might have gone wrong with Tribune Cato, Eros couldn’t imagine. The man was talking so strangely!
Sextus caught on though–Cato was meaning that outside the door something was not as it should be. The detective deftly removed to the door handle and latch, along with Cato’s positioning himself farther over. It was no minor wonder that Cato could move without clinking the armor!
“We brought a woman with us from Gaul,” Eros playacted that a conversation was taking place at the table. “She tried helping but the result so far is disappointing. ‘Another mouth to be fed’, I am afraid she’s become.”
Sextus, ready for the signal to yank open the door, was following this talk at the table. He waited with his hand on the latch, but he was compelled to keep silent that it was his opinion that she definitely had not been a burden to them. He listened for what was the next that Eros would say. Cato gave a nod and Sextus jerked open that door. There was an eavesdropper! Cato shot out his long arm to catch the lad—how that started a commotion in the hall! Such wailing along with his resisting.
“Please—please, my masters! Don’t harm little Malek!” he cried, speaking in Greek, the language most soldiers spoke in Palestine.
His attempts to wriggle free were useless, yet it must be said the boy made no effort to kick them. He was in serious trouble and this was brought to bear as Cato bent his ear over. Sextus, from behind the lad, maneuvered him into the room, and the door was closed. The yelling increased, yet no one came down the corridor to investigate. The small Arab boy made his efforts to have Cato stop—crying being the chief one—but the Tribune wouldn’t relent. But upon the Commander’s noticing the matted hair had evidence of ringworm, Cato removed his hand completely from the boy’s face. With the pain gone, most of the fear was gone—he went quiet and tried to smile, while still Sextus held him. This showed a permanent tooth had gone missing never to return, and when asked, Malek revealed his name had to do with “king”. Had there, in the world’s history, ever been such a boy less royal? Malek’s coating of dirt was of a kind that comes from being a non-bather rather than a result of a busy day of play in the street.
“Who told you we’d— Who told you to do this?” Cato demanded and he shook the boy. “For what reason were you listening at this door?” And his last question proved equally brusque, “What had you hoped to be learning here?” It was a constant thing to be shook here, the boy figured.
“I... I...” Malek blurted only this and then jerked his head away, fearful of a blow. He hadn’t done forethought to have an excuse ready should this be happening.
With tears on his cheeks as one could expect, Malek did his best to explain. “I wasn’t listening, (crying) master. I’ve brought a message. The boy... (still crying) at the front told me which door.”
Cato finally released him. Eros was watching, but with his thoughts critical of Cato for words spoken earlier: “less demanding”, more “requesting”. All sounded so shallow at present.
Cato sat down and left the boy to Sextus’ solo keeping.
“I didn’t knock—I only just arrived!” Malek had to force the sound of emotionality. He was allowing, then, time for that explanation to register. Eros suspected him.
“We’ll have a word with that waiter later... and if you are lying, too bad—” Eros cautioned. Having not been involved, and calm, Eros motioned for Sextus to bring the boy over to the table.
“But before I check this explanation, Malek, tell this message you have brought here.”
“It is for you, my masters—” His look of expectation was chiefly towards Sextus, yet Malek still managed to speak as to the three. When then able to wiggle free, the boy immediately threw himself at the feet of the soldier near. He reached and touched Sextus’ exquisitely-tooled sandals. Such a pair he’d not seen before. He told, “Those who have called this great rabbi ‘the anointed one’ say you have wanted information from followers of his.”
“Perhaps,” Sextus murmured. Malek stood and confidently said:
“I know nothing. But gladly will I lead you to those that do.” For a boy from desperate streets his habits die hard: “Only a single coin will it cost—a silver one.” He looked at Sextus in particular. “Then you shall hear everything you’ve wanted to know.”
Sextus felt more hesitation than willingness to accept this offer and mused aloud, “Everything I want to know.”
Eros could not but object, “No! This word of a beggar boy!”
Nevertheless, Sextus removed coins from his purse.
The boy watched. “A shiny one,” he repeated, “if you have it, sir.”
Eros pounded a fist down on the table.
Sextus held one he'd so chosen up for the boy to see.
Cato interjected to exact in greater surety the promise of his help again.
The boy gave assurance, "Everything! Yes! All that he wants to hear!”
He was standing straight and looking up. “The ‘mother of god’ will, herself, speak to you.”
Eros could not refrain from a boisterous laugh. Cato, being affected by it, laughed too. Sextus had not yet made sense of the remark.
“Preposterous!” was Eros’ “verdict” at the table, given as he arose. That one definitely had had enough: enough of Cato’s deception, enough of that Governor who tried to run things without knowledge of the actual situation, and, yes, enough of his co-worker Sextus at present! From out of his purse Eros removed coins. He lightly bounced these in a single hand then told the others who watched in surprise:
“I’m handing these over later to a Greek lady who has said to a mutual friend that my curls are ‘the prettiest’. I think they are, frankly, a match for hers.” His next words were for Sextus: “She has no ringworm either.”
Eros had not quite passed. He grabbed the boy via his shirt, near the chest. Down level with the lad's he brought his own head, and he spoke… too softly to be heard by the men. Then he released the boy who defended himself with words back, in like manner. Afterward, Malek seemed undisturbed by this. At reaching the door, Eros turned and gave salute to the Commander, Tribune Cato. He was without words at that point in leaving. Not more than a minute later, however, Eros was opening the door and he stuck his head in. He said:
“The innkeeper shall tell you, if need be, where I have gone to.” At this, the door was closed.
The wood of the table did some groaning as Tribune Cato put his weight on this to slowly raise himself to his feet. “What is that soldier trying to do?” he genuinely asked.
Sextus’ answer might perplex: “Live without love.” He looked at Malek who looked back with interest. With half a smile Sextus handed the coin to him.
* * *
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