At this, the Roman smiled and the tension started to melt away. However, his wariness did not completely vanish.
“What is it you want?” he finally asked.
“The same thing you do: to leave this place and return to our homes — after we get our woman back, of course.”
The centurion’s expression darkened. “How do you know I want to leave?”
I answered after Lavon translated.
“When I commanded soldiers, I spent a year in a country much like this one — a morass of warring tribes and religious fanatics trying to kill me and my men. All I wanted to do was finish my job and go home.”
“You did complete your duties?” asked Publius. “You followed your orders?”
“Certainly. If there is anything we soldiers know how to do, it’s to follow orders, whether they make any sense or not.”
The centurion glanced once more toward Markowitz. “Is that why you tolerated this young man?”
I nodded. “It is as we told you before: his father is rich; we serve him. He ordered us to look after him.”
“And the woman: surely she is no princess.”
“I apologize for not telling you the whole story,” said Lavon. “In truth we have no princesses. We live in a republic, but the people in the lands we passed through do not understand what that is. It is a difficult concept to explain.”
“Rome was a republic once,” said Publius.
“We did not know that at the time,” said Lavon. “Otherwise we would have told you the complete truth.”
Publius considered this for a moment.
“If you do not bring her back, your consul will be angry with you, no?”
“In such an event, our disgrace would be so complete that we could not return home at all,” said Lavon.
“Can you help us?” he added.
Publius frowned. “I am three years from retirement. I will find a wife and have my own farm. I will not stand for anyone to put this at risk.”
“We do not wish to put you in any danger,” said Lavon. “We are only seeking to reunite our party once more, so we can leave and return to our homes.”
“What about the Pyramids?”
“We can come back later, as the gods permit. If they are as big as we’ve been told, they are not going anywhere.”
Publius chuckled, which was a good sign. Then he signaled to me.
“I am invited to Herod’s palace as the prefect’s representative tonight. I will take this man as my servant.”
“He cannot talk to anyone,” said Lavon.
“This is no obstacle. Servants are not permitted to speak.”
“What will he do?”
“Stand and watch. He may learn something useful.”
“How?”
“He appears to be a resourceful man. He will think of something, and if he cannot speak, he cannot say anything dangerous, on impulse, as you could.”
Lavon nodded. “When?”
“After sunset. I will send a slave for him when I am ready to go. The rest of you must remain here.”
***
“Do you really think he’ll help us?” Bryson asked after the Roman had departed.
Lavon thought so, though he warned us to take Publius’s retirement plans seriously.
“As a centurion with a distinguished service record, he’s in line for a land grant, at the very least. Depending on where he settles, he might even wind up with a cushy posting at one of the Roman training facilities. By first century standards, he’ll have a very nice life. He can’t afford to take any chances.”
“I’ll do my best to see that he doesn’t,” I said.
“What do you expect to accomplish?” asked Bryson.
I shrugged. “A little knowledge is better than none, I suppose.”
Chapter 47
For the next few hours, we had nothing to do but wait. We watched the priests perform the evening sacrifices as our servant brought in an oil lamp, along with more bread and wine, a plate of boiled vegetables, and a chunk of meat that looked like the breast of a duck.
The air had grown chilly, so Lavon draped another blanket over a sleeping Markowitz. Then he returned to his window and stared out toward the southwest, lost in thought.
As the twilight began to fade, he turned to us and directed our attention the same way.
“At this moment, right over there, Jesus and the disciples are getting ready for the Last Supper.”
Before Bryson or I could react, Lavon walked back to the table, took a piece of bread, tore it into three pieces, and handed one to each of us. Though he knew Bryson wasn’t a believer and probably had his doubts about me, it just seemed like the thing to do.
“On the night in which he was betrayed, he took the bread and broke it, saying ‘this is my body, given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’”
After we ate, Lavon took the wine jug and refilled our goblets.
“In the same way, he took the cup, saying ‘this cup is the new covenant, in my blood, which is poured out for you.’”
We each took a sip of our wine and stared once more to the southwest, in silence.
“I can scarcely believe this is happening,” Bryson said after a few minutes had passed. “I wish we had some way to follow him around.”
“Knowing the exact location wouldn’t help us much,” Lavon replied. “It’s not like any of the parties involved would let us stand to one side and observe.”
The archaeologist shook his head. “It’s just as well, anyway. I’m not exactly sure how I would react.”
To be honest, I wasn’t sure how I would, either.
A few minutes later, Markowitz rolled over and belched. I heard him mutter an obscenity, though he made no move to stand up. I went over to check on him, but by then he had gone back to sleep.
“Nothing to worry about,” I said.
“What are we going to do about him?” asked Bryson.
Lavon shrugged. “The two of us aren’t going anywhere tonight, so we can be sure to keep him on his side. As long as we don’t give him any more wine, he should sober up by morning.”
“No, I meant after we get back. Given what he’s been through, he’s going to need counseling.”
I didn’t think so. As it turned out, neither did Lavon.
“Whatever issues he has, he’s going to have to work them out himself, or with us,” he said.
“We have no professional qualifications in that field,” said Bryson.
“That doesn’t matter. How is he going to explain to some shrink that Pontius Pilate forced him to kill a man in an impromptu gladiatorial contest? If that doesn’t get him locked up in a padded room with a box of crayons, I don’t know what will.”
Chapter 48
I couldn’t argue with that logic; though the way things were going, we’d all be lucky if a cell in the nut-house
