CHAPTER ONE Page last update
THIS NOVEL IS DEDICATED TO JOHN BLACKBURN, ALTHOUGH WE SEE THINGS DIFFERENTLY
Riding an army horse taken as his soldiering days ended, the guide led two security detectives that yesterday had arrived from Rome. He was hired during breakfast with Ennius Sextus partly for the information he could tell concerning ex-Governor Pontius Pilate. That official was uncle to the traveler who had along fellow soldier, Greek-born Dion Eros, to help Sextus as necessary. The guide led showing soldierly deportment except for frequently rubbing a scraggly beard. Sextus was not without discomfort of his own. He rubbed his back grown sore after 30 days of riding. Sextus doubted he’d win the sizable bet of a week’s wage made in Rome over which of them would last longer without complaints about horses, roads, or any aches and pains.
While governor of Judea, Pontius Pilate had Gaul suggested for his retirement. This he dismissed, saying, “Too great a distance from Rome.” However, Caesar lost confidence in the man’s abilities, and Pontius Pilate again considered Gaul. On an expeditionary trip Pilate selected the valley for its beauty, fertility and year-around water. From a building site he chose he looked as far as he could see to the right and to the left, and bought this much land, necessitating that 20 farmers sell to him and vacate their land. He specified to builders that a massive one storey house present a rock facade comparable to Herod’s esteemed temple being built in Jerusalem.
Pilate envisioned having people journey there to see flowers everywhere blooming, and he thought it fitting to rename all “Spring’s Grandeur”. No longer was his portion of the valley to be principally known for wheat and barley harvests! And his idea was to hold these festivals having yearly increase in attendance and splendor until those even in the biggest cities took notice. He provided all food and drink the first-and-only year of the festival, and it proved premature his announcing there’d be staged plays the following year. Most folk had come the 18 miles from the nearby town, but this was too far for the many who were reluctant to leave ongoing livelihoods for upwards of a week of celebrating. And from the townspeople attending, Pontius Pilate learned they thought his house had appearance of just “cropping up”—it seemed his rock facing on the building caused all to blend in too well with that surrounding mountain and other outcropping of rock here and there. This opinion, of course, disappointed, and Pilate gave up his plan for festivals where from great distances away the people would travel to attend.
Inasmuch as previous tillers of the soil here had been generational, several returned and asked whether they might not be allowed to again farm the land. However, after his promising to consider it, Pilate let thoughts of his dwell, instead, on the Empire. He sensed it ‘slipping’, and this was the reason he summoned Sextus to give him help with that situation.
As the mountain pass opened wide there was a vast panoramic view. Today it had a ceiling of low white clouds. Eros and Sextus were refreshed, thinking this valley was to extend ‘forever’ out to the right and left. But from a perspective of imagination came their feeling that the opposite side, seemingly so close, could be pulled over by just reaching out and grabbing it! The guide advised they must do all this, for the years were long passed that he had the strength to do that!
Trees here were to be admired. They gave orderly partition to the dark brown soil that covered the valley. Eros held that trees knew when another grew near, and whether this someday might be discovered to be true or not, these three knew for certain there never had been a single night when wind, partnered with chance, had blown in nascent trees in seed cones to take root here and there. These green beauties standing tall in protection of ground moisture and against the loss of topsoil from wind carrying it away presented themselves in the straightest of lines. Soldiers were particularly aware of straightness, for they’d spent many hours forming lines themselves while standing for inspection. Each had respect for farmers that also plant trees that become testimony of their ability to manage a valley.
“Should I escort you further?” the guide asked. He expected the answer to come from Sextus who, all the day, was the friendlier, but it was Eros who without looking at him told, “You have done enough.”
“My pay is to come from Vinius Gaius. May I wish for, then, your eventful stay, and upon your return, more of this happy traveling?”
Sextus thought No harm in that request. Eros did not turn away from looking at the valley and Pontius Pilate’s estate. He considered Pontius Pilate is known to be resolute, and his vindictiveness dished out through the years likely was a necessity. I wonder how it “plays out” here? He casually remarked:
“That building shall not ever be stormed.”
They agreed. It was surrounded by a tall fence and fortified with a heavy rock facing. At this distance—the top of the road down—the residence had more the appearance of a military complex than being the home of a statesman. Eros saw creatures of the sea with shells as formidable as this. Sextus was examining the descent. Wagons laden heavy with grain introduced ruts into the road and these might affect surefootedness of their mounts. Sextus, Eros saw, was rubbing his back in “anticipating” pain to come from the remaining ride down.
The guide had an odd comment. “I suppose you have your wives? Earlier you asked how it was I came here for my retirement, my not knowing a living soul here. What I said about traveling through and remembering this particular spot... wasn’t true. Gaius Vinius knows the story—I might as well tell it now. . I met a fair-haired woman in Laodicea in the province of Syria. A typical pay-for-her-time situation. She looked nice. Was still sweet in some of her ways.”
Hermes’ hat! He’s married a whore, Eros scoffed, yet not loud enough to be heard by their guide.
“There was time remaining—”
At this, Eros began a snicker.
“—and we talked about places other than where we then were and about things other than what we were doing. She told she came from the town nearby here. And I asked about parents, brothers and sisters living. She said she had two—one sister who had been widowed and another not yet married.” The guide eyed his soldiers; he was emphatic as he told, “Right there and then I decided I’d come after my retiring and take my pick of the two!”
Eros was curious. “How did she make her way to Laodicea?”
“It was a couple of merchants that took her off on a road that, they promised, would allow her to ‘grandly see the world’.”
“And one by one,” Sextus lamented, “the world saw her.”
No denying of that, they agreed.
Eros asked, “What happens if she returns? She remembers you, and that’s a stir spoon that will upset your porridge!”
The ex-soldier told, “We remember our whores. Fortunately, they forget us.”
“How was your meeting arranged?” Sextus wanted to know. “How grand ‘a story’ did you have to tell?” he also quickly asked.
“No ‘story’ at all, really.” The guide circled his hand around broadly over his head. “I told her family I wanted to live my days out where it was beautiful, green and free of officers’ orders—no offense to you, gentlemen. I explained I had my money from retirement, and at 50 I had no fear of working.”
“I’ll marry you,” Eros quipped. He kept looking out on the valley though.
“So when arriving,” Sextus asked, “you made it your business to meet these ladies as if by chance?”
The man nodded. Eros missed the answer and remarked, “That must have been some woman to bring you all the way to here.” He was thinking about traveling to Laodicea.
The guide waited till Eros looked for his answer. He then nodded and produced a smile.
It became Sextus’ guess, “I’ll bet you’ve never told the family about the sister.”
“No. Never did.”
“Which one did you marry?” Eros asked. “I shall guess. The first sister you saw on arriving to town!”
The guide wanted them to know there was more to it than only chance. He shook his head and said, thoughtfully, “I looked at her boy. He was 10—and all of 15 now. You know, he looked like me in certain ways: same color of hair, same build, same smile... I thought people might, someday, see me as the father... so I married her, the mother of the boy. She’s kindly and content with me. He often takes care of the horse. I teach him some soldiering ways. The other sister, it turns out, has since married; but they have no children. I think I’m the better off having the one ‘with’.”
Sextus dropped into the vernacular, in saying, “You remind me of me 20 years from now.
“Vinius Gaius is who you’ll first want to see. Pilate seems to rely on him for everything. Though I’ve been inside there once, I’ve never seen Pilate. And he’s the most famous resident of Gaul! Others have. Rome’s Governor for Judea. The Emperor’s Procurator there too (they knew this meant the financial overseer). No,” he tried to make comedy with his voice, “Pilate does not have Palestine’s troops down there, but he does have most of their money!” This was a chop and worth a good laugh.
Eros, wondering about this mention of “troops”, didn’t ask—he had to laugh over the “Palestine’s money”!
Ennius Sextus thought the guide’s tone improper and the comment uncharitable. It irritated, too, to hear Pontius Pilate merely referred to here, and in town, by the given name only, “Pilate”. Their omission of his family name “Pontius” , when not knowing him personally, was callus and overly-familiar. He thought perhaps Vinius Gaius may have started this abbreviated use with casual reference in town, and Sextus intended to discuss the matter in due time with him; yet meanwhile, he showed his moderate dissatisfaction that was seen by the guide.
”If there is to be nothing more...” the guide’s voice trailed off. Sextus paid him no attention. The guide then looked at Eros and said, hopefully, “You’ll tell ‘ole Gaius’ I guided you well here?” and he raised his eyebrows in expectation.
Would Eros ever let him lower those brows again? Sextus finally condescended and gave his reply; for, at least they hadn't been calling his uncle yet in town ‘ole Pilate’!
“Yes. I’ll commend you. You never let us stray from the trail once.”
The guide appreciated the smile. In turn he explained, “A ‘good word’ keeps me coming here. I do like this view—as well, I need the money.”
In taking a last look out, the guide wistfully told, “I hope it’s not much longer left in fallow.”
Weeds were growing high in places; enough so, they might be called “bushes”. Everywhere was the dark soil tilled and waiting. Farm houses down there looked vacant as when birds fly from cages. The land outside and nearest the fence perimeter wasn’t even in use for a garden.
Eros postulated, “The Governor doesn’t need money—he just needs to have desire to spend some.” He definitely did not approve of squatters’ huts he saw; it added to the general squalor surrounding the house itself. “And speaking of commendation,” Eros added, “I wish ‘Vinius Gaius’ did a better job.”
Sextus said he thought he saw movement.
“May the gods you serve keep close watch over you.” The guide extended a salute. He let it rise some to show they were in "ascendancy” here.
It may have been that Eros disliked having a guide, or it was perhaps that he’d never given credence to the possibility of his Zeus or Sextus’ Apollo caring for individuals—he did not acknowledge the salute or farewell wish. For were it not that Eros had the packhorse in tow this trip, he would have made his trail the entire way! But Sextus returned his salute, and with this, the guide was satisfied. He’d had good results from the day and reigned the horse around and began the ride home.
Eros had the squatters in mind as he restated his disapproval, “If this is to be your inheritance—”
The nephew of the ex-Governor, being aware, understood: Eros had been rhetorical in saying this, but the patrician-born officer felt likewise free to answer, “My uncle has other properties, and better-kept ones, I’m told.” He learned of these in a visit to an Apollo temple in Rome where records are carefully kept.
They traveled farther. Half the way down, the bet came to a fruition—but neither did Sextus lose or did he win. It seems at one point Sextus had to complain for the pain, but it was at a switchback turn and Eros was openly critical of the road! The two looked at each other and pointed as though ‘catching’ the other, You lose! But with the circumstances they had to agree the bet had been voided, and this was good for a laugh!
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