“There are something’s in life with which we should not interfere. Balthazar’s pride in your protection flows very deep and this is as much about him as it is you.”
“What about the screams coming from the forest? Balthazar could be hurt, should we go and look for him?”
Yeshua added, worried for Balthazar’s safety. Joseph chuckled under his breath as he gave his reply.
“The last person you should be worried about is Balthazar. He is a trained gladiator and is more than capable of looking after himself I assure you. The screams you can hear are Feriluc’s as they are too high pitched for a man of Balthazar’s size. Now stop worrying and get some rest.”
After the meal, Yeshua made as if to return to his hut, but when out of sight he ran into the forest guided by the tortuous sounds.
“Are you ready to talk yet?”
Balthazar finally asked as he buried the point of his blade through the skin between Feriluc’s femur and underneath the kneecap, stabbing at the soft tendons hidden beneath. Balthazar felt a reluctant respect at Feriluc’s incredibly high pain threshold as he turned his head to look quizzically into the man’s pale pink eyes hoping for a sign as to what pained him the most. Feriluc continued to howl loudly and twitched his leg uncontrollably when the sharp point of the dagger sliced into a nerve. Looking again into Feriluc’s eyes, Balthazar was suddenly gripped by a lightning bolt of pain to the chest. Letting go of the dagger, he jumped up and staggered backwards then dropped back down to his knees as the muscles in his legs suddenly failed to work. Feriluc smiled for the first time in hours as he finally held Balthazar’s terrified gaze. The dagger still protruded from under Feriluc’s kneecap so he painfully leaned forwards and gingerly slipped it from the wound with his still bound hands then tossed it to Balthazar’s feet.
“Pick it up.”
He commanded. Unable to resist, Balthazar crouched down and took hold of his dagger.
“Now it is my turn, cut me free.”
Balthazar, released from the crippling chest pain but still under hypnosis, dreamily crawled over, cut Feriluc free of his bonds and then dropped the knife to the ground, stood up and stepped away, awaiting further instruction.
Feriluc growled from under his breath. If it was not for his mortal wounds he would have loved to carve Balthazar into tiny pieces, so he settled for the next best thing.
“I don’t have the strength to take your life, but I will enjoy watching you do it for me, now pick up the knife.”
Unable to disobey, Balthazar picked up the dagger in his left hand. Apart from his huge physical size and natural ability, one of the things that helped Balthazar in the Gladiatorial arena was fighting left handed. This unusual stance confused most opponents giving him an extra advantage. But that was no use to him now as Feriluc held his gaze.
“Slit your throat.”
That was all Feriluc had to say, and very slowly Balthazar raised the blade to the side of his neck and started to press the razor sharp edge into the taught flesh, but then he stopped.
“I said slit your throat.”
Feriluc commanded, wincing from the exertion and placing his left hand over his shoulder wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. Sweat poured from Balthazar’s body as he used every fibre in his being to resist. His massive frame began to tremble from the effect of his huge muscles locking in spasm, while his brain fought to block the alien signal. In fervent anticipation, an excited rush coursed through Feriluc’s body, somewhat easing his pain and he licked his lips at the sight of a thin trickle of blood collecting along the edge of the blade then dribble down Balthazar’s neck as the taught skin began to split from the pressure of the razor thin edge of the blade.
Dropping to his knees with exhaustion, Balthazar tried to force his eyelids closed in one final effort to overcome his body’s refusal to obey. The obvious weakness of Feriluc’s mind and body counterpointed against Balthazar’s incredible strength and slowly but surely the blade eased away from his neck.
In spite of the ongoing battle, they both looked up in surprise as Yeshua stumbled into view. He had been closing in on the sound of Feriluc’s screams and lost his way when they stopped; by chance he reached the clearing and stared open mouthed at the scene.
Shocked by the intrusion, Balthazar dropped his guard, and still under Feriluc’s power he swiftly dragged the blade across his own neck, slashing his throat. Yeshua screamed and ran to his aid but the damage was done, and Balthazar fell face down into the dirt. Yeshua rolled his godfather over to witness the look of fear on Balthazar’s face and his hands gripping desperately to stem the flow of blood gushing between his huge fingers as his life ebbed away. Yeshua ripped off his tunic and tried to use the fabric compressed onto the wound, but all he succeeded in doing was to divert the flow up Balthazar’s gaping windpipe, filling his nose and mouth with blood which spattered into Yeshua’s face as Balthazar tried to breathe. Feriluc smiled as the grisly tableaux began to unfold and he then turned his attention to Yeshua.
“I see the young pup has feelings for his performing ape. I am so glad you are here to witness his final moments, but don’t worry you will not be apart for long, your arrival gives me the perfect opportunity to finish what we started at the top of the Tor.”
Feriluc fixed Yeshua in his steely gaze and once again held remote control over another human being.
“Take the blade and stand up.”
Feriluc commanded and Yeshua unwillingly grasped the bloodied handle of Balthazar’s dagger that lay in the grass next to his dying friend. Tears of fear and grief ran down Yeshua’s smooth child like face as he slowly rose to his feet and stood facing his foe. Feriluc pondered while he decided on the structure of Yeshua’s final moments, and as an idea formulated, his sallow face filled with an evil grin, revealing his disturbingly small child sized yellow teeth.
“Your naked abdomen fills me with an idea. I have often wondered what this so called chosen one is made of and now I have the perfect opportunity to find out. We will start with your guts and then progress onto your heart. Slit open your stomach.”
Yeshua stared in horror at the demand but as the order left Feriluc’s lips his hand tightened on the daggers handle and he felt the uncontrollable urge to do as he was told.
Once again, Feriluc held someone’s life in his hands with only one outcome desired, and he even managed to lean forwards to get a clearer view. Balthazar could only watch helplessly at the horror unfolding before him as his own life drained away. Yeshua raised the blade to his left flank and paused, ready to draw the blade across his stomach and spill his intestines on the earth below. The dagger’s point touched his skin which yielded to the pressure producing a small drop of ruby red blood on the dagger’s tip.
“What are you waiting for? I command you to slit your stomach.”
Feriluc yelled fervently with anticipation. The grimace on Yeshua’s face suddenly changed into a smile of revelation and shaking his head he dropped the dagger to the floor.
“I command you.”
Feriluc screamed again, beating his fists on the earth in frustration. Yeshua ignored the instruction and turned around to aid his dying friend. Balthazar gestured, trying to make Yeshua run away but it was to no avail as Yeshua knelt down and placed his hands gently around Balthazar’s neck, closed his eyes and began to pray. He prayed to a higher being who channelled his love through him to heal the world. It was at that moment, Joseph and Calatin, who had formed part of a search party for Yeshua, walked into the clearing and witnessed the bizarre event. Even Feriluc watched fascinated as a soft glow of energy radiated from Yeshua’s hands as they pressed the wound on Balthazar’s neck. Astonishingly both sides of the filthy gash across his throat, fused together leaving just a trace of a thin pink line where it healed. Balthazar although very weak from the loss of blood, sat up and for the first time in his life cried tears of joy in jubilation.
Yeshua collapsed from the exertion and both Joseph and Calatin ran to his side, fe
aring that he too had come to harm, they were both relieved to find the blood coating his body belonged to Balthazar and the boy was completely uninjured. Calatin picked Yeshua up and carried him away into his care leaving Joseph to tender to Balthazar. Amazingly he got to his feet, looking a fearsome sight, coated head to foot in his own blood, exaggerating the whites of his eyes and snarl of his gleaming teeth as he turned his anger at Feriluc who once again tried to hypnotise his foe. But it was too little too late as Balthazar scanned the ground looking for his dagger, on finding it he snatched up the blade from the blood caked earth. Feriluc did not even have time to scream as the knife flashed through the air and entered his open mouth. The top edge of the vertical blade sliced the gum line between his upper incisors then cleaved through his top palette while the bottom tore a tooth out by the root, and sliced his tongue down the middle. The point pierced the back of his throat then burst open a vertebrae at the top of his spinal column, killing him instantly. The blade finally came to rest when it passed through the skin on the back of Feriluc’s neck and thudded into the trunk of the tree behind, pinning the lifeless body into a sitting position while the handle jutted out from the broken jawed gaping mouth of a very surprised face.
Joseph watched stunned, he had seen some incredible feats by his friend but the ferocity and accuracy of the strike was truly amazing. He stared dumbstruck as Balthazar calmly walked across and yanked his dagger free, allowing the body to flop onto its side. With the blade removed, blood began to pour from the wound staining Feriluc’s white dead skin, ironically giving it a healthier glow. Balthazar looked calmly at Joseph while he wiped clean the blade and replaced it in his belt then began mumbling something about ‘telling Wobin where to find the body’ before he stopped and answered the unasked question.
“He tried to kill Yeshua.”
Was all Balthazar said as they both walked slowly off into the forest to find a villager with a hunting horn, who could give the signal to call off the search.
Calatin carried Yeshua back to the hidden cave and laid him gently on a bed of moss. He then covered him with a cured animal hide for warmth. As Yeshua lay sleeping Calatin relayed to the rest of the group how he witnessed Yeshua perform a miracle, further cementing their belief in the boy. From that day, everyone vowed to spread the word across the land and to visitors from distant shores that the long awaited messiah finally walked amongst them.
It was not long before Yeshua recovered, thanks to care and a special brew prepared by Calatin. He played down the talk of miracles spreading through the surrounding villages, saying it was just a small cut which practically healed its self but everyone knew this to be Yeshua’s modest way. Balthazar was soon back to full fitness and resumed his duties supervising the transport of goods to the ship.
Wobin ordered search parties to cover every available part of his land and beyond. He even sent messengers to further outlying villages up to seven days travel to ask if anyone had seen Toomak or her family. Every single one returned empty handed. It was as if they had disappeared into thin air.
Within a month Joseph concluded his business, filling the hold with as much cargo as Balthazar deemed safe. With a heavy heart Yeshua, or more commonly Jesus, as most people now seemed to address him, bid farewell to his new found ‘family’ and set off back to his uncles massive ship to return home.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Over ten years have passed since Toomak escaped and returned home to Bethlehem, with the family but without Feriluc. Hajer decided that following Toomak’s attempt at murder, they should all take the more arduous route overland, avoiding sea travel as much as possible for fear of being recognised and the likelihood of retribution. Before leaving for Gaul, informants reported the manner of Feriluc’s death and Toomak blamed herself for failing in her mission, vowing to succeed next time. Inconsolable at the loss of her amulet and unable to return and search for it herself, she forced her father to offer large sums of money in reward for its recovery. But the result was fruitless as it was almost impossible to search the area without being caught, so Toomak had to concede that it was lost forever. She still possessed incredible but somewhat limited powers of sorcery, but feared that it was not enough to fulfil her mission. On returning home Toomak cut herself off from the rest of the family, feeling vulnerable and alone. She even lacked the desire to pursue Yeshua, or Jesus, as he was now widely known. Every day she scoured through her collection of books and parchments looking for hope, but it was impossible, as most of Feriluc’s teachings came verbally from memory.
For the next few months, things gradually returned to normal until news spread that the governor was heading back from Damascus to his Jerusalem residence and it was not long before a summons was delivered for Toomak to return to her post and act as his personal physician. Toomak knew the true reason behind the message and saw it as an opportunity to broaden her horizons and possibly meet like-minded souls who could help with her quest. Knowing that the governor would notice her missing amulet, that she knew he coveted, she persuaded her father to employ a goldsmith to make her a replica of the treasure she lost in the lake of glass at Glaston. The cost was far too excessive for his purse, but Hajer dare not refuse for fear of retribution from the hooded demon for lack of diligence in helping his daughter complete her destined task, so a compromise had to be made. Hajer’s dealings as a trader had taken him to almost every city and town across Judea and he recalled meeting an artisan who claimed to be an alchemist. In his desperation to fulfil his daughter’s wishes, Hajer sought out this man and explained what needed to be done.
To Hajer’s great disappointment, the man confessed that the claims were untrue but he could produce an alloy of two other elements that would foil all but the most expert of men. He showed Hajer two identical rings, one of them gold and the other a fake, with a challenge for him to identify one from the other. Hajer held both up to the light, studied the golden lustre, and even placed each one between his teeth to see if one metal was softer, but he could not tell either apart. He finally managed to pick out the fake ring, only because it felt a fraction lighter than the other.
A generous fee for the goldsmith’s services was agreed with the promise that no one must ever find out the new amulet’s true composition.
For three days and nights, Toomak meticulously created numerous scale drawings, and when satisfied with the result, allowed the artisan to carve a facsimile out of wood for use in the casting process. Next, he embedded half the wooden amulet into a block of damp sand, packed hard inside a small square wooden frame. He then he added a second identical frame on top of the first and hard packed more damp sand over the top, making sure of a good solid fit. When satisfied he took two hollow tubes, as thick as a finger and inserted them vertically into the sand as far apart as possible and still touch the surface of the wooden amulet. He then slowly removed these tubes, extracting the sand held within which left two points of access. Complete with its layer of sand, he carefully lifted the top frame away from the base, exposing the wooden copy protruding from the tightly packed bottom layer. He very carefully removed this wooden amulet and then replaced the upper layer and bound the two tightly together. This left an amulet shaped cavern hidden deep in the sand complete with two access points for the fluid metal. While all the preparation took place, a clay pot of what Toomak believed to be liquid gold sat bubbling in the corner of the forge. Toomak believed that she worked on the amulet every step of the way. But as per the agreement, the artisan had secretly substituted the molten gold with the fake. What the artisan had prepared out of Toomak’s sight was copper, heated to a molten state with a small addition of antimony at the correct time. When fully absorbed into the copper, traces of magnesium, charcoal, and lime were added to create the lustre of genuine gold.
With the aid of metal tongs and a cloth to protect his hands from the heat, the artisan carefully picked up the melting pot and slowly poured the shimmering yellow liquid into one of the holes, using the other as a chimney
to release the gasses given off in the process. The pouring ceased when the liquid appeared at the top of both holes and if done correctly with no air bubbles, a perfect copy filled the chamber within. One day later, allowing time for the metal to cool, he tapped out the sand to reveal a perfectly shaped replica of the amulet in-between two plugs ready for removal. For the whole of the following day, with his set of precision tools, the artisan removed the plugs and filed any burrs or rough edges. When satisfied he dipped the piece in boiling vinegar, thoroughly cleaning the surface, then dried it in lamb’s wool. This painstakingly slow task took another day to finish leaving it ready for its intricate inscription and finally the mounting of the jewel. The emerald centre proved impossible to fake so Hajer sold half of his late mother’s jewellery to purchase a stone of the same shape and calibre of the original, and when set in place the finished piece looked identical in every facet including the weight. Luckily the original amulet was hollow and the replica solid, which compensated for the difference in the lighter density of the new alloy. Toomak’s face said everything as she laid eyes on the finished article and caressed it lovingly, believing the amulet to be solid gold, much to the relief of the artisan and her father.
When Toomak returned to the governor’s villa, she noticed a distinct change in his demeanour. This larger than life grandiose arrogant bully had changed into a quiet, meek mannered wretch. The senate had prosecuted him to the verge of beggary, and only his tear streaked impassioned pleading saved him from execution and transposed it to life imprisonment. The only reason for his release and allowance to return to his position was the election of his uncle to the new head of judiciary for the senate. Even allowing for his uncle’s power, his position was tenuous at best, also fortunately for him, there was nobody suitable or willing to replace him. Under strict supervision and weekly reports back to Rome, he resumed his post, much to the relief of his wife, who for all that time had to live with her husband’s uncle, after the sale of all the family assets. For ten long years, she endured the ignominy, snide comments, and sneers from people she regarded as her inferior, especially her older sister who visited regularly and never let the occasion go by without gloating over her predicament. The governor and wife were only too pleased to eventually leave and return to Syria.
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