Casca 6: The Persian

by Barry Sadler

  "These are the words and the words I give you are true.

  "I am Izram, son of Daniel of Damascus. Know ye that I have shared salt and bread at the table of The Master and have witnessed his miracles with my own eyes. Blessed be The Son of God! It has come to me to pass on the message and the truth about Jesus, his mission on earth and the road we must take to cause the events that will lead to his return. My name will not appear in the written word among the twelve who followed Jesus, for they knew not of me nor of my true purpose. Those calling themselves the disciples were only tools that were to serve their purpose and to be discarded when they were of no further purpose to the mission. Only I know the real truth, for it came to me from Jesus himself after his death. For then did I procure the Spear from the Romans. There were still faint traces of blood on the cold cruel metal when I first touched it. Then I, as Jesus had done, went into the desert for forty days, carrying with me the instrument of his death. There I fasted, taking neither food nor water, and waited for the words of our Lord to come to me. On the fortieth night, as I prayed, the words came to me. I touched the blade of the lance to my mouth and partook of the blood of Jesus and lo, the answers came and the voice of the beloved Jesus spake in the wilderness, and all that he wished came to me in less than a beat of the heart. Great is the power and the glory of The Living God.'

  "Before I give you the word I received in the desert, there are things that must first be said, that you may know and understand the truth. First, I, Izram, knew that Jesus was not of the blood of the tribes of Judah. This proof was given in visions and through my studies of ancient scrolls that have been hidden from the eyes of the world for uncounted centuries.

  "The bloodlines of Jesus came from the ancient and noble house of the Aryan peoples. His coming was foretold by the Magi of Persia long before the Hebrew prophets made their predictions. Indeed, the prophecy of the Hebrews came to them from the wisemen of the Magi in order to prepare the way for his coming. In Babylon, Nebuchadnezzar was instructed by his wise men to free the Hebrew slaves from their bondage that they could return to Judea; this was done in order that several families could be inserted into the Hebrew tribes that were of the Aryan stock and not Hebraic. These families were to be of the bloodlines that would lead to the birth of The King, as it was foretold in the stars a thousand years before it came to pass.

  "The Magi knew that The Savior must be born in Judea for there would be a time when all the elements needed were correct and a confrontation would take place that would lead to a new world order. This was the true plan of Jesus as He gave me the word in the desert.

  "Jesus preached love and mercy to the poor and the masses. That is true, for the masses outnumber, as do the poor, those in power. Thrones are built on the backs of the poor, not the rich. Jesus gained this support by promising eternal life to those that followed Him, and mercy to all that would accept Him. The other side of the sword was the use of fear, eternal punishment, and death for those who rejected His love.

  "His disciples were to spread this word throughout the world, beginning in Judea, for there was where the confrontation would take place with the power of the world, Rome. The disciples were to bring to Jesus the masses, and when the time was right they would strike throughout the Roman Empire, loyal followers using the ways of death to eliminate those who stood in their path. A single dagger, properly placed, can do more good than a thousand warriors. We were to use fear and dissension to create a vacuum of power, which would then be filled by our own people, and those who stood in our way were to perish. Fear is the greatest weapon. Fear of the unknown strikes the hearts of the bravest men and renders them weaklings by their own suspicions and natural distrust. We are to use this weapon under the veil of secrecy and only the true believers will know the real purpose behind what we do."

  The Elder paused, looking out over the audience of his brothers. A sea of kneeling hooded figures, their knees numb by now, yet intent on the word of Izram coming from his, the Elder's, lips. He squinted in the flickering light of the torches, picking up where he'd left off.

  "Before a new order can rise, there must first come a time of great troubles where the people are restless and the poor growing in discontent. There must be a conflict between great powers and distrust of everyone of everything. These times, then, are the waters in which our fish will swim and prosper. What we do on the days following this message are merely stones on the roads that lead to the second coming of our Lord, Jesus Christ. Our Savior! Our Savior! Not the Savior of the weak, nor of the Jews, for they were only tools to be thrown away when they could serve no more. As Jesus spake to me in my vision, it would be I, Izram, who would found the new order and pave the way for His return. When the world would be engulfed in turmoil and revolt, then would they turn to us for order, for we would be the only ones who could put an end to the turmoil that we alone had created. Afterwards, through Jesus, who would sit on the Throne of all the Kings on earth, we would rule for all time; a single power in which only the best and the strongest would rule under the guidance of The Son of God himself.

  "But this great work was ruined by two actions. First, the turning over of Jesus to the Romans by the unspeakable Jews, who from this day forth shall be our mortal enemies, for they must never have a chance to betray Him again. And secondly, the deed of the Roman known as Casca Rufio Longinus. If he had not struck Jesus with the spear, then our Lord would not have given up His mortal body to return to His Father.

  "I was returning to Judea from my home in Syria and was just outside Jerusalem when I heard word of the trial of Jesus and His punishment. I rushed to the scene but arrived too late, else I would have been able to save Him. For I had bought the services of a thousand armed men who would have easily overpowered the Roman guards and released Jesus.

  "But the cursed Roman, Longinus, struck our Lord with his spear just as I approached and His blessed blood poured forth. There was a great storm raging and all had hidden their faces from the wind save me. I alone heard the words of The Lord as He spake to the killer, and He said:

  "'Soldier, you are content with what you are, then that you shall remain until we meet again.'

  "Then Jesus died and I saw the Roman touch his hand to his lips and go into great agony, which I relished, and I knew that I was witnessing a miracle. The blood of The Lamb has great power. I knew that I had to have the instrument of our Lord's death and secretly arranged to buy it from a man of my own lands, a Syrian who'd exchanged the Roman's spear for another when the Roman had dropped it.

  "I was downcast and full of misery as I went into the wastelands carrying with me the Spear. But in my vision, it came to me that the road is still open and all that must be done will be done. Jesus will return and from His words I knew that He had left the Roman for us to follow. Jesus said they will meet again. The Roman, Longinus, is the road that leads to Jesus and the Second Coming, and we shall follow the killer of God wherever he goes. He must never escape us, and when again he meets Jesus we shall be there to welcome our Lord. But this time, we shall have the power for Him to use. Instead of the ignorant and superstitious peasants as before, we shall have nations and armies to do His bidding and He shall lead us to the final great glory where it is paradise on earth and the worthy shall sit by His side in palaces of splendor forever. For He shall give us Eternal Life.

  "Brethren, I leave you the Spear of Longinus for your care. Let nations die before you lose it. Remember and obey. Follow the Roman and damned be his name for all eternity. Glory to those that give him pain in this life.

  "This is my word and The Word of God as given to me, Izram, the Thirteenth Disciple!"

  The power of the story came over Rasheed as it always did and the final words of Izram ate at him. "Glory to those that give the Roman pain."

  Nothing was said about Casca by the Elder and Rasheed was bitter. It was not until a member of their order was selected for participation in the re-enactment of the crucifixion that he felt better.

&nb
sp; The re-enactment of the moments of Christ always gave him a great sense of peace and purpose, especially when the brother was nailed to the cross and it was raised in position. There he would repeat the final words of Jesus and another brother, dressed in the uniform of a Roman legionnaire, would take the Spear of Longinus and drive it into his side, that he might feel and rejoice in the. pain that Jesus had felt, and through this act of dying by the very spear that had taken the life of The Son of God, the brother would be reborn to sit at the foot of The Master until the day of the Second Coming when they would all be reborn in His Glory.

  The bitterness at the inaction of the Elder returned to Rasheed on his way back to the court. He could not understand why he hadn't ordered the punishment of Casca. The word was clear in the words of Izram. Glory to him who did!

  Rasheed was not going to wait. He would create the conditions that would lead to the Roman's punishment and assure that he alone received credit for the deed. It would be a just punishment; he would make sure of that. It would exceed the pain given him by the Elder Dacort. He grinned as the wind whipped his face and robes. He knew the proper punishment to inflict and just how to have it finally done.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Events were changing the course of Persian affairs. Casca and his armies had been successful in eliminating all but a few bands of bandits in the mountains. All other resistance had been crushed.

  But the success of the Persian armies in the field led others to watch them with suspicion. As long as Persia had problems with the Huns and a half dozen other enemies, she was no threat to the eastern frontiers and provinces of Rome. Now there had been several small skirmishes between Persian and Roman patrols in various regions.

  Rasheed continued to spread his disguised invective against Casca. Always in the most flowery of terms, but the message was clear: the Roman must go. Shapur, too, watched the progress of events. Astrologers read the portents of the heavens to him, and their message was clear also. He knew now what had to be done. There was a small sense of regret at the actions he must take, but the burden of rule was ever a heavy one, and so be it. In many ways, Shapur almost held a true fondness for the Roman, but that could not be allowed to interfere with the course of his destiny.

  Rasheed smiled, his hands shaking with eagerness as Shapur put his signature and seal of office on the document before him. It was done! In two days, and after the King's dedication of the new temple of Ahura mazda, Casca would be judged and condemned.

  His work had finally borne fruit and now he would have the satisfaction he'd craved for these many years. Ever since he'd seen the Roman scum he'd known what had to be done, and finally it was to be accomplished.

  Rasheed glowed with pleasure.

  The morning of the dedication, Shapur wore his sword at his belt. A scarf covered his mouth that his breath would not contaminate the purity of the flames as his torch was lit by the Mobed-mobedan.

  His back was straight, strong and proud; arched nose and dark eyes. His face a mixture of stern righteousness and pride. He looked every inch the part of a king today, warrior king of a race of warriors. His beard had been curled to lay in waves, cut straight at the bottom. His robes of purple and gold were set off with dangling tassels of silver. He was the King of Kings and the glory of his God.

  Below the temple, every able bodied man, woman, and child had come forth at his bidding from their fields and homes to witness the final conquest of things foreign. The Roman was noticeable by his absence. But this was not the time for foreigners, this was Persia for the Persians.

  It would be soon; the red glow over the tops of the distant peaks gave warning of the birth of the new day and, for Shapur, a new era. He and his people had finally thrown off the yoke of the Greek Seleucids and wrested power from the Aracids. When the founder of his house, Ardashir of Babek, overthrew Artavasdes, all of the Arascid line were put to death, save those few who had escaped to Armenia. Ardashir then had conquered and added to his realm the domains of Seitan, Merv, Khwarizam, Gorgon, Balkh, and Abarshar. The kings of Kushan, Makran, and Turan had come to make obeisance to the Persian and acknowledge his house as their overlord and master.

  As the priests made ready for the welcoming of the sun, Shapur thought of his Roman general. He was going to regret the loss of Casca in more ways than one actually, but the time had come for him to go. Soon there would be another war. Rome!

  Casca had served him well over the years, taking Shapur's armies against the Huns and rebellious tribesmen, and now Shapur's borders were secure for a time, and Casca had worked himself out of a job. His success in battle and his bravery had given him a great deal of popularity among his warriors, and that could prove dangerous to his King if allowed to grow. Many of the younger men of noble houses had vied for the privilege of serving in the Roman's command and all that a general needed for an uprising were loyal followers. Shapur would avoid that at all costs. But he would not easily forget the fair haired and pale eyed Roman, nor would the sly one, Rasheed.

  The Vizier had cried loud and long the praises of Shapur's Roman. He had recounted at great lengths the deeds of the foreigner and how his men were growing in a loyalty to him that was second only to the King. Rasheed spoke in glowing terms how he was certain that Casca's armies would follow him anywhere and obey any order he gave to do battle with anyone.

  Shapur was not fooled by Rasheed's words of praise. He knew that he hated the Roman but didn't know his reasons. He had noticed that when the Roman entered the room where his Vizier was present, venom dripped from Rasheed's lips, though the poison was honey covered. But now, he agreed with the deviousness of his Vizier, it was time for the Roman to go. War clouds were gathering fast and dark.

  Rome and Persia must try each other again and it would not do to have a Roman commanding Persian forces at such a time. True, he had told Casca that he would release him from his oath of fealty if the time should come that there was war with Rome again, but he could not let Casca go free. The Roman knew too much of the ways of Persia and the strength of her forces. He could take that information and lead Roman forces against him.

  And now, from Rasheed, he had the reason he needed to sign Casca's death warrant and so he had. Rasheed had given him the perfect excuse and not even the warriors that had served his general so loyally could find fault with the judgment he would render today. He turned his attention back to the proceedings as a polite cough distracted him from his sad reflections on Casca.

  The Mobed mobedan handed him the barsom, a bundle of sacred twigs with which he would light the flame of eternity to welcome the sun on this, the longest day of the year.

  He performed his priestly duties as the priest he was, Shapur II, Shahan shah Eran ut an Eran, the King of Kings of Iran and non Iran.

  The sun broke forth and the sacred flame was lit to burn eternally from this date forth to signify the supremacy of Ahura mazda over the forces of Ahriman, represented by the powers of darkness and their servant.

  "Casca," he thought as he touched the torch to flames. "Tomorrow, a new torch would be lit." It saddened him.

  Casca was summoned to the court early in the morning, even before the cockcrow. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and hastily dressed in uniform, ignoring Anobia's request that he return to bed and hold her. Once outside, he was somewhat surprised by the size of his escort. Normally there would have been no more than four or five troopers to escort him, but now there were two full squads. Twenty men meant he was receiving some special notice and the Roman wondered whether it boded ill or fair. No use thinking about it. He would find out soon enough, though he knew that he done nothing to arouse the King's ire and had served him faithfully.

  Still, there was a growing feeling of apprehension as he rode to the palace. Once inside the grounds, the stone carvings of winged bulls and lions looked particularly menacing in the pre-dawn gray. His escort was silent on the trip. Not a word was spoken. Only the clatter of hooves on the paving stones of the street accompanie
d them. Casca felt a chill run up his spine. He dismounted and was led into the great halls, escorted by the Palace guards. His sword was taken from him before entering the main reception room where the King handed out judgments.

  Inside, lining the walls, were many officers of the Imperial armies, but most important were the priests of Ahura mazda, including the Mobed. Casca knew he was in trouble for sure, but still didn't know why:

  Torches and braziers lit the scene, casting shadows long and dark into weird flickering pictures on the stone walls. Casca advanced to the prescribed distance from his King. Shapur was wearing full armor and holding his sword bared in his hand rather than the rod of justice. The sword meant he was dealing with a member of the military and as Casca was the only warrior in the center of the hall, he had no doubt that it was his ass that was in the sling.

  Rasheed stood beside the King, the pleasure on his face as open and evident as was his hate. A flicker from a nearby bronze brazier bounced off a metal medallion on Rasheed's chest and Casca knew why. The medallion was in the spare, stylized form of a fish. Rasheed, he knew instantly, was a member of the Brotherhood of the Lamb.

  Dawn was beginning to break over the city and the first light was seeping into the chamber. Casca understood the reason for his being summoned at this hour. The first light of day was the most holy time to the followers of Ahura mazda and that was the moment when he was to be judged for some form of heresy. But why?

  Shapur stood erect. Impressive, he waited for the precise moment when the light of the new sun would strike the prisoner. Then he spoke.

  "You, Casca Longinus, who I took to my bosom and have shown great honor, have betrayed me and the Aryan peoples by treacherous plottings and the foulest of sacrilegious practices. You have aligned yourself with the forces of darkness and have practiced the black arts. You are the tool of Rome. Rome, whose armies are even now preparing themselves to strike against us. But they shall be defeated and destroyed even as you shall be." Casca started to respond and was cut off by the wave of Shapur's sword. "You will not speak unless given permission." At his signal, Rasheed stepped forward. "My Vizier will give to the priests and the army, proof of this beast's dark powers and the pact he has made with evil, that none may say he has been unfairly judged."