The Eighth Veil

by Frederick Ramsay

  “To what comes next? I don’t understand. Something is expected?”

  “You wait for a messiah, do you not? The pagans who linger at the fringes of the faith expect something to happen, are sure of it, in fact. Perhaps it is the brooding Roman presence that creates this need for something dramatic. You do not have to be a Jew to long for another Moses to lead you out of bondage, you see. There is a tension in the air, Rabban. You are too deep in your scrolls to feel it, but it is palpable to the rest of us.”

  Gamaliel slouched back in his chair. Loukas was beginning to sound too much like Menahem.

  “If you say so, Physician, but I did not come here to discuss the apocalypse with you. What can you tell me about Egypt?”

  “Egypt? That is a sudden change in conversational direction. Why Egypt?”

  “I wish to know its recent history, back six decades or so.”

  “You wish to know about the Roman connection and the destruction of a great empire at the hands of Caesar Augustus, then only Octavian. Where shall I start?”

  “With the battle of Actium or thereabouts and all that followed. Then you must tell me all you know of Cappadocia.”

  “I don’t think there is a connection between them. Why the two?”

  “I have some thoughts that need either confirmation or erasure.”

  “Ah then, this may take a while.”

  Chapter XL

  “It is fascinating you bring these two questions to me at the same time, Rabban. They are both tangled up in the Roman civil war that broke out after the assassination of Julius Caesar and in very similar ways. The assassins, after Brutus’ death and under Gaius Cassius, occupied the eastern provinces, while Antony and Octavian settled in the west and south. Cassius put an end to the rule of Ariobarzanes III and his brother Ariarathes in Cappadocia. But he lost the battle of Philippi to Octavian and Marc Antony, who will next be found cavorting with the Queen of the Nile. The new order, as is their habit, decided to shift the power to someone they could rely on more readily and elevated the high priest of Comana as the new king. That would be Archelaus, the father of Glaphyra, who became the wife of Alexander who…well, you see the picture.”

  “I’m trying to. It is confusing to say the least.”

  “More so as her mother was also named Glaphyra and she was married to an Archelaus as well at one time or another. The princess moved around quite a bit. So, Cappadocia was expanded even more when Octavian disposed of Antony and his Egyptian Queen and became Emperor Augustus and sole ruler. He added parts of Cilicia to the country. Then his successor, Tiberius, turned Cappadocia into a province of the empire and sent Archelaus packing and appointed Quintus Veranius governor. At the same time he unofficially folded portions of Cilicia, Galatia, and Antiochus into it thus making it extend from the Euxine Sea in the north to the Middle Sea. The new governor, by the way, was adjutant to Germanicus who is, I have it on some authority, that is the rumors from the city across the sea, the father or grandfather of Tiberius’ successor. The ‘Little Boots’ we spoke of before.”

  “My head spins, but Cappadocia is a prize then?”

  “Indeed, almost as great as Egypt. It controls the trade routes to the east and the trade routes to and from the south all the way into Africa, intersect the east-west ones as well. To control those roads that send goods east and west, north and south is a ‘pearl of great price’ in the eyes of a man whose ambitions run to kingship. And furthermore, as a land in and of itself, it is extraordinarily rich and fertile—vineyards, fruit of all kinds and its Caesarea is a capital to rival any in the Empire. And then the landscape, they tell me, has those amazing great phallic stones which the Romans seem to admire for some reason. A phenomenon I prefer not to analyze.”

  “Really? I had no idea. I think I have spent too much time with my nose in books and papers. Everyone knows these things?”

  “Not everyone, no, but those who need to, must.”

  “Yes, I see. Some of my confusion arises from the dual practices peculiar to royalty in general, intermarriage and murderous plotting. Herod’s line in particular has several instances of nieces attached to their uncles and sometimes serially. And this Glaphyra seems to turn up everywhere in the line.”

  “Perhaps she was a great beauty.”

  “Perhaps. Cleopatra is said to have been rather plain.”

  “But she had other attributes. Maybe Glaphyra shared some of them.”

  “Are you really so carnal or do you say these things only to goad me?”

  “A little of both, Rabban, You were saying?”

  “I was elucidating the commonalities associated with those royal houses, Egypt’s and Herod’s—and Rome’s as well, for that matter. They all have a habit of executing perceived threats to their power. Brothers, sons, wives, mothers-in-law, and relatives in general, it doesn’t seem to matter. The mere appearance of a threat seems to be sufficient. That practice seems especially to have preoccupied the late King Herod nearly as much as the huge building programs he’d launched.”

  “So now you know the substance of royalty in our time. Is there anything else you need?”

  Was there? Whether to the south and east, north, or west, the exploits of these rulers—Cleopatra, Archelaus I and II, Princess Glaphyra, Antony—including those which were only rumored and did not involve a Roman of importance, were enough to make his head spin. Nevertheless, Gamaliel had taken it all in. He sat back, educated, slightly confused, but at the same time pleased with himself because he felt sure now he’d correctly figured out almost all of the important parts on his own. The few bits he did not know and had just learned either did not matter, or confirmed what he’d already surmised.

  It had taken longer than Gamaliel expected for Loukas to work out the tortured history of Egypt’s last days as an empire in its own right, and almost as long to sort out the complexities of the Cappadocian royal family. But it was as if the last veil had fallen away from his dancer and he could see the naked truth at last. He smiled inwardly at the metaphor. He was certain Loukas would have envisioned a different sort of dancer and a much more graphic nakedness. He smiled and left his friend with a promise to return and speak more of his faith or lack thereof. Loukas nodded and bid him farewell.

  It took him nearly an hour to make his way back to the palace through the throngs of people in the streets. It would be the last big day of Feast of Tabernacles and some were making the most of it. Others were already packing and preparing to leave. He did make one last stop at Agon’s shop. He had no news for him but hoped he might receive some from the jeweler instead.

  “The captain of the guard stopped in again, Rabban. He seemed very curious why you had visited me. Is that a concern?”

  “That would depend on you. What did you tell him?”

  “Nothing that could compromise your investigation. Enough of the truth to keep me safe and enough embellishments on it to keep him guessing, I hope. He asked specifically—well, not specifically, that would be a stretch—about the pendant. At least that was my understanding of what he was after. He asked about this and that and did an ‘oh, by the way’ mention of it more like.”

  “Did he indeed? I wonder. Should I be surprised at that? What did you tell him?”

  “I told him you had shown me a pendant, but we determined little or nothing about either its owner or its significance and you put it aside.”

  “That is true enough. The one I have is the one you made. The one put away, on the other hand, is a key piece to solving this murder and tells us a great deal about the victim. Thank you for your discretion, Agon. I regret to tell you this, but I may have to call on your services again when the murderer is revealed and there is a hearing.”

  Agon grinned. Gamaliel hurried on to the palace. He did not want to be late setting his trap.

  ***

  Gamaliel met Chuzas and Barak outside the palace gate as usual. He quizzed Chuzas closely about the day’s plans. He needed to know the position of all the players in
his little drama and be reassured they had been correctly placed and were ready. Informed that they were, he entered the interview room. The game was on.

  The room had not been altered in any way since he’d last visited it. He would have been nervous if it had. More nervous, actually, for in spite of his apparent calm exterior his heart pounded and he had to concentrate on controlling his breathing. This was not the sort of undertaking a Talmudic scholar would normally engage in, even as a fantasy. Not for the first time he wondered where it would lead him and if he’d ever be the same after all this was over and done.

  He waited patiently until he heard the tongue click that signaled that Chuzas had taken his post. Gamaliel walked to the chair in which he had been sitting off and on for days and took his place at the table as if waiting for someone to join him. He placed the replicate pendant on the table and sat back. Somewhere off to his right he thought he heard the scrape of a foot on a step, or perhaps a tile. Did he? If so, would the man dare? Gamaliel waited.

  Time moves most slowly when you least want it to, he thought, and right now time moved at the pace of resin oozing down the bark of a pine tree. He tried not to fidget, to signal his impatience. It should happen soon but was he ready? Patience he had in abundance when it came to studying Holy Writ. There was never any need to hurry the Lord, nor did he wish to. He paused to savor every word and every nuance of meaning like an Epicurean rolls his food and wine around on his tongue. But this was different. The man must act soon. He glanced at the door set in the lattice to his right. Would the prey dare make a move while the hunter waited? He clenched his teeth and willed himself to think about all the possibilities. The killer might be bold enough to burst in, snatch up the pendant and flee, perhaps leaving him dead or dying. Why would he not? A witness would be the last thing a killer would want. His plan, indeed his life depended on the likelihood that the killer would employ some ruse, some trick to get what he wanted. And then there was Gamaliel’s counter ruse. If all the pieces were in place…were all the pieces in place?

  The noise of a commotion out in the corridor interrupted these thoughts. As nearly as anyone could tell, it came from some distance away but it seemed to be drawing nearer. He sat up and twisted in his seat to face the door. The noise grew louder, which diverted his attention away from his vigil. He stood and stepped toward the commotion. His expression had changed from cool anticipation to genuine annoyance. Barak burst into the room.

  “Rabban, you must come at once,” he gasped and pointed toward the door.

  “Come? Come where? Why must I come? This is a very bad time, as you know, Barak. We have important business to attend to here. We must speak—”

  “But, Excellency, this cannot wait. There has been a terrible accident. Indeed, it might be another murder.”

  Gamaliel rushed out of the door, leaving the pendant behind and unguarded. The killer, it seemed had finally gotten his chance.

  In the corridor, the two men stopped and listened.

  “The captain of the guard has been told?”

  “Yes, Rabban. He positioned his men as you expected and waits in the cellars.”

  “Excellent.”

  They moved away toward the kitchens to investigate the cause of the uproar. Sure enough a woman lay on the floor, a red stain spread from the area of her forehead across the tiles. Gamaliel knelt and searched the body for signs of life. He asked questions of the few people in the room, most of whom looked either confused or frightened and all were uniformly tongue tied.

  Again, time slowed to a near standstill as they waited. Gamaliel leapt to his feet.

  “The pendant! I left it on the table,” He yelped and dashed back the way he’d come, panicked.

  After the Rabban and Barak cleared the room, the woman who’d been lying on the floor stood and wiped the red wine from the floor and her face, then sat to drink what remained of it from a wooden cup.

  When Gamaliel arrived at the room, the door to the right hand area stood open and the pendant was gone. Chuzas rounded the corner right behind him.

  “It was as you said, Rabban. The man came through the door, snatched up the pendant and disappeared back through it to the cellars.”

  “And he was?”

  “As you said, the man Graecus.”

  “Describe what he wore.”

  “Ah, again it was as you predicted, a loose tunic and cloak and, oh yes, leather boots. They were red.”

  “Not a Greek then.”

  “Sir? Not a Greek?”

  “Boots, my friend the physician tells me, are not the foot covering one commonly sees on or in Greece or its subdivisions. Boots, particularly those dyed in bright colors, are the preferred foot covering of those tribes and residents to the north, like their ancient enemy, Persia. So, probably not a Greek.”

  Chapter XLI

  “Send me the captain of the guard and his next in command, Chuzas, and be sure to wear your badge of office. I would recruit the king for this if I could.”

  “I believe he would be willing to do as you ask, Rabban. I had to tell him what you had planned. I’m sorry.”

  “You told him? But why?”

  “I am not seconded to you as is Barak. I serve at the pleasure of the king. For better or worse, he is my master. To not tell him what had occurred in the past and what would soon occur today would be both disloyal and traitorous. He assured me that he never had a problem with your investigation, and in fact, wishes to help.”

  “But he chastised me. You heard him. He made it very clear he wanted no interference from me at all. He denied any further interviews. He—well we did have that chat, so—yes I see.”

  “He had to keep the queen pacified. We all had watched your interview that day and the queen seemed upset. She muttered something like, ‘As bad as the Baptizer.’ Well, you can see how that might go. But then, in his defense you saw how he reacted to her letter to Pilate. He will be with you when you talk to the captain, I promise.”

  “It would be better, I think, if you and the king take up places behind the lattice. Do not say anything or reveal yourself unless things go badly. Otherwise, I want you both to hear the whole interview.”

  Chuzas left the room through the door that led to the royal apartments. Gamaliel waited until he heard the scrape of chairs and the sounds of the steward and the king settling in to wait. He hoped the king would stay quiet and wait until he’d finished querying the captain. Barak, accompanied by Geris and his second in command, arrived. The two guards seemed short of breath, which would have been their expected state under the circumstances. After all, they had chased the thief/killer through the cellars and…but where was the killer? And what had happened to the pendant?

  “Captain, where have you put our man? Is he locked away in a storeroom? Where?”

  “I regret to say that he has slipped the noose, Rabban. I am sorry, but your man has escaped.”

  “How can that be? You had men posted at every possible exit from the cellars. You did post your men?”

  “Yes I did, and yet, he has eluded us, I fear.”

  “That will not sit well with the Prefect, you know.”

  “I am sorry, but he is gone and taken the pendant.”

  “Has he? Well, that is too bad, isn’t it…losing the pendant. It was a vital piece of our investigation. Tell me, how do you know about the pendant?”

  “It is the one the girl always wore is it not? He took it, correct?”

  “That was not my question, Captain. I asked, how did you know that he took it? No one but the king’s steward, Barak, and I knew the pendant would be in this room today. Who told you?”

  “Why…When I was asked to post the guard someone said that it was to catch the killer and he would have…someone said something.”

  “No one said anything about the pendant or mentioned its importance either.”

  “I think you are mistaken, sir. He, I mean, we all knew.”

  “All, did you indeed? Do you know what I think, Cap
tain? I think you are a liar and are complicit in the girl’s murder and have been since day one.”

  “Sir? How can that be? I am the king’s own guard. I do not go around killing servant girls.”

  “No, you probably don’t, but you did know or suspect that she was not just an ordinary servant girl. You didn’t know what or who she might be at first, but you knew she received letters from someone outside the palace. From time to time Menahem used you or one of your guards to fetch her to him and you all saw, or could have seen, the letters exchange hands. Therefore, you also knew she could read. More importantly, you had contacts back in Cappadocia that you guessed might be interested in those facts.”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about, Rabban. I hold your position in the highest esteem. That and your age give you sanctuary from anything I otherwise might do to you, but I protest.”

  “Protest all you like. When I am finished here you will surely benefit from having rehearsed your claims of innocence when you answer to the king’s court. Now tell me, who is Graecus?”

  “The Greek gentleman? I have told you that already. He is an envoy seeking a trade agreement from the king they say. It is not my place to know these things, sir. I only secure them when they are in the palace.”

  “Not good enough. He was many things, but Greek was not one of them. No ordinary Greek would wear bright red leather boots. His papers, when we have a closer look at them later, will undoubtedly prove to be forgeries. That part doesn’t matter at the moment. What does concern me is your connection to him. I believe you communicated your suspicions about the dead girl to someone in Cappadocia. Shortly afterwards you were asked if the girl happened to wear a particularly configured pendent. It was after that that this Graecus arrived at court and this Attic tragedy began.”

  “You are mistaken, Rabban. I know nothing of what you charge here and nothing you have said here can be corroborated. I am sorry your suspect has fled, but that will have to be the end to it.”