after us.
But no one followed, to my great relief.
“I can’t believe we got out that easily,” said Markowitz.
Quite frankly, I couldn’t either, though after Naomi explained, it made perfect sense.
The city confronted no significant external threats, and the common peasants knew that nothing good could come from sneaking inside the palace; so they didn’t try. During daylight hours, at least, sentries weren’t really necessary.
I also suspected that those who were stationed near the wood shop would be as bored, and as drunk, as the ones Sharon had slipped past on the wall.
***
As I assessed our situation, my instinct was to strike out to the west and put as much distance between ourselves and the city, as fast as we could. With the full moon, we could even push on through the night.
“They have no way to call ahead,” I argued.
Lavon initially was inclined to agree.
Once we reached the more cosmopolitan coast, our appearances would be less likely to stand out. Plus, he admitted later that he was grasping for an excuse to see Caesarea. Some of that city’s ruins had survived into modern times and the original was supposedly an architectural gem.
On the other hand, when pressed, he couldn’t guarantee that we wouldn’t encounter robbers, or worse, the Zealots — some of whom might even recognize us from the ambush a few days earlier.
Bryson started to join the debate, but he soon fell silent. Rather than argue, he got up and began to hobble, as if he had a sprained ankle.
“I can’t make it that far anyway,” he said. “We don’t even have water.”
I suspected he was faking the injury, but decided not to challenge him. We couldn’t afford to waste our energy squabbling amongst ourselves. Besides, his second point was correct.
“All right, then,” I said, “we’ll stay in the area. How long do we have before all hell breaks loose?”
Lavon glanced up to the sun and guessed that it was about 9:00. Since we had rescued Sharon an hour earlier, he estimated that we had another hour, perhaps two, before the king finished with his bath.
“The servants already know I’m missing, though,” said Sharon.
That they did, and the bath attendants were undoubtedly scrambling to find her that very instant. But from what Naomi told us, they would do so as quietly as possible. Word of Herod’s dark mood had surely spread.
Naomi also reminded us that Azariah had assembled every slave in the palace to witness Sharon’s guard being flogged.
“No one will dare admit to losing the king’s woman a second time,” she said. “Until the servants can be certain that they themselves can escape blame, they will obfuscate and delay as long as they can.”
“Eventually, they’ll have to fess up, though,” I said.
“Yes. When the king returns from his bath, he will call for her.”
“What then?” I asked.
“They’ll keep stalling as long as possible,” said Naomi. “They’ll ask the king to be patient, say she is not quite ready …”
“If Herod is as angry as he sounded, that won’t last long.”
“No; half an hour at most. Then the steward will be forced to confess to Azariah that they cannot locate her. Azariah will conduct a brief inquiry, but once he realizes no one has answers, he will have no choice but to inform the king.”
“And then?”
“They will turn the palace inside out.”
Chapter 56
Whatever the actual timetable proved to be, we needed to get moving, though Naomi insisted that we leave our tools behind where they would be discovered by the lumberjacks at the end of the day.
I started to object — at the very least, an axe might come in handy — but she explained that the slaves responsible for their maintenance would be held accountable for their loss.
“A guard being flogged is one thing,” said Lavon, “but she doesn’t want an ordinary servant to suffer that fate.”
This was understandable, though for a brief moment I began to wonder whether she might also be hedging her bets. If we got caught, she could go back to being a demure slave girl who had no choice but to accompany the savage beasts whom the king had assigned her to serve.
Once again, I needn’t have worried.
“Slaves like her can be tortured at will,” Lavon explained. “The truth would eventually come out, and she knows it. Whatever happens, she’s not going back.”
This was comforting, in its own twisted way.
Even more reassuring, Naomi told us that if Herod kept dogs, she had never seen them. This would buy us at least a few additional hours, though probably not the two whole days we needed.
We crept through the increasingly thick brush, heading south through what was known as the Hinnom Valley, on a course parallel to the city’s western wall.
About half an hour later, we reached the corner where Jerusalem’s fortifications turned to the east. There, we paused for a brief rest at the base of an enormous bridge leading into the city from the southwest.
“This looks like an aqueduct I saw in Spain, years ago,” I said.
“That’s what it is,” replied Lavon. “Pilate’s aqueduct.”
Lavon stared up at the structure for several minutes, carefully noting its features.
“This is magnificent,” said Bryson.
“Yes,” said Lavon. “It’s unfortunate that barely a trace has survived into modern times. Archaeologists have always wondered what it looked like.”
“Where does it start?” asked Sharon.
“Somewhere south of Bethlehem, we think,” he said absently. “About ten miles away.”
“Why don’t we go there?” asked Markowitz.
This jolted Lavon’s mind back to our present situation, but before he could answer, Bryson brought up the same objections he had raised to prevent us from fleeing to the coast. He even started hobbling again.
I started to argue — by following an aqueduct, we’d at least have no trouble finding water — but by then I also noticed that Naomi had begun to lose her reassuring sense of confidence.
She explained that she had traveled many times with the king to Tiberias, his capital to the north on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. Once, she had even journeyed as far as Caesarea, on the Mediterranean coast to the west.
But the territory to the south of Jerusalem was as unfamiliar to her as it was to us.
***
We concealed ourselves behind a support column as we considered our alternatives.
We quickly ruled out Bryson’s suggestion to return to the Antonia, and not just because of the obvious danger to Naomi. Markowitz had his own good reasons to avoid the governor, and Sharon categorically refused to go anywhere near the place.
“Pilate would send me back to the king,” she insisted.
Bryson turned to Lavon. “You told us those two hated each other,” he said, explaining the logic behind his brainstorm.
“They
The Professor now looked thoroughly confused. “Why?”
“Luke’s gospel doesn’t say,” answered Lavon. “My guess is that Pilate could appreciate the skillful way the king ducked the issue. Herod could have sent Jesus back to the Romans with a blunt note saying the prisoner had
