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Maximus

Page 7

by Richard L. Black


  Maximus and Androcles remained seated and pondered for a few moments the intricacies and challenges this campaign could bring.

  “I’m not leaving my sword!” Androcles said emphatically.

  Maximus remained silent. A thousand thoughts swirled through his head, the primary one being what to do during so many days on a ship.

  11

  Jershon and his family entered into a dangerous covenant to be disciples of Jesus. That commitment could bring them under the scrutiny of representatives of the Sanhedrin and the potential threat of being ostracized from the mainstream Jewish community of Capernaum. Jershon was a man of integrity. He knew in his heart that this was the right course and the correct commitment, regardless of the consequences. What man or group of men could possibly dissuade him from following the bidding of Jesus? What punishment would be greater, the punishment of man or the consequences of denying the Messiah? The answer was easy for Jershon. He believed Jesus of Nazareth was the promised Messiah. He was uncertain about the challenges discipleship would bring, but that didn’t matter.

  Liora was ecstatic. She had never doubted her own feelings about Jesus, but to have the confirmation of her beloved uncle compounded her resolve. She was anxious to go to the synagogue and listen to him teach. Now she wanted to stay in Capernaum. How would she convince David to leave his work for a season and stay with her? How would they sustain themselves? They couldn’t ask their aunt and uncle to take care of two more adults. Should she follow Jesus wherever he went? Should she make herself known to him? Could she? Or would the men he called apostles hedge her way? Should she strike out on her own as a disciple with the group of Galilean women she had heard followed Jesus everywhere? A cluttered onslaught of feelings and emotions ran through her mind, the type of confusion that could not be sorted out in the normal manner with prayer and meditation. She needed a confidant, someone she could talk to other than the family, which potentially had an agenda for her future. Even though her uncle had extended patriarchal permission for the family to be disciples of Jesus, Liora needed more. She would listen intently to Jesus’s teachings and follow her heart.

  Liora was eager to go to the synagogue; it would be another hour before the family left. She decided to leave early. Her cousin Sariah told her that each time Jesus came to the synagogue on the Sabbath, the crowd grew larger. People struggled to get as close to him as possible. She had heard that people came from long distances. Some brought afflicted family members, hoping to place them in his path that he might stop and heal them or simply to get close enough to touch the hem of his robe, which was said to produce the same results as the touch of his tender hands. The miracles he performed were becoming legendary. There were stories of healings taking place many miles away from Jesus just because someone simply believed he had the power to heal them. These things swirled in Liora’s head constantly. She wrestled with the comprehension of more than just the miracles, but the reality was that the Messiah was among them. It was more than she could fathom. She had to understand this on her own terms.

  It was not acceptable for an unaccompanied woman to strike out on her own, but that was what Liora was contemplating. She was certain her aunt and uncle wouldn’t allow her cousin Sariah to accompany her in following Jesus on his journeys. The only option was to persuade her brother David to come along. He, however, was driven by his work. He had had a difficult time leaving the foundry in Magdala to visit Capernaum. What made the decision easier for him was the opportunity to work with his uncle and cousins on their fishing boat. It would be hard for David to consent to following Jesus from place to place and give up his livelihood.

  Liora donned her veil and headed for the door. She wanted to be among the first to arrive to assure a place within the small building. “I think I will go to the synagogue early,” she said softly to her aunt and uncle. They both looked up at her with questions in their eyes but did nothing to stop her. At length Jershon’s approving smile released her to go. David and Seth thought to follow but remained immovable as she walked purposefully alone out of the house.

  Outside the air was mild, and the wind was briskly blowing off the lake. She gathered her robe and veil tightly around her and proceeded down the dusty road to the synagogue. She walked straight ahead, weaving through the uneven streets and alleys. On the main street she sensed a commotion and slowed her pace. To the right was the synagogue; to her left, approaching her, was a large crowd of people. Leading them at a measured pace was Jesus. She froze in her tracks. To his left and right and slightly ahead of him were the trusted ones she recognized from seeing him previously. They were walking calmly but in a protective mode, running interference as needed with people pressing too close to their Master. He was talking, turning his head to the left and then to the right, probably answering questions being asked by the men following close behind.

  Liora pressed against the wall of the building where she stood. She was transfixed as the group led by Jesus came closer. She decided to let them pass and then fall in behind. The crowd was large, and the street narrowed at the point where Liora stood. One of the men walking beside Jesus smiled and gently placed his hand on her arm, causing her to walk with him rather than being pressed by the throng of disciples. She looked down in modesty, but it was hard not to realize she was walking within an arm’s length of the Messiah. She could hear his tender voice as he spoke. She stole a quick glance to her left and met his eyes. He smiled kindly, and in his eye was a spark of lightning that pierced her. She couldn’t maintain eye contact, and she looked down at the road ahead of her. It felt like a warm blanket had been wrapped around her from head to toe. Her knees were weak, and she felt she would faint and stumble any moment. The kind man who had led her forward sensed her weakness and put a gentle hand on her elbow, giving her support. It was the only thing that kept her from wilting to the ground.

  Liora was pushed along at the front of a human wave. One of the first to enter the synagogue, she sat down on the women’s side near the raised platform at the front. On the men’s side, Jesus and the men called apostles gathered their robes about them and sat down. Jershon had told Liora he was acquainted with the burly apostle who sat at Jesus’s right. He was a fisherman from Capernaum, and his name, she remembered, was Simon. Her uncle said that three or four of Jesus’s apostles were fishermen from Capernaum. They had left their boats and nets to follow the Messiah. She wondered how they sustained their families. The one known as Simon whispered something to Jesus, who was now sitting reverently as the synagogue filled with worshippers.

  The stone benches around the inside walls filled quickly. Soon people were taking seats on the floor. At the back of the synagogue, opposite the teaching platform, was a heavy curtain that could be opened to allow people outside to look inside. Many whispered and pointed as they caught a glimpse of Jesus. Liora spotted Sariah outside and caught her eye. Her cousin flashed a girlish smile, envious of the choice seat Liora had inside the synagogue.

  The congregation was absolutely silent as the rabbi rose to begin the Sabbath worship. Liora bravely looked at Jesus. He appeared to be just another Jewish rabbi, humbly bowing his head with his eyes closed.

  12

  Tatius Lucianus met Maximus and Androcles that afternoon to give them the meager supplies for their journey: Jewish clothing and a satchel they could sling over their shoulders. It held a blanket and a couple days’ ration of bread and dried fish. Tatius told them they wouldn’t need much for the trip as quarters and food would be provided for the entire journey. Tomorrow they would meet the emissary in Ostia who would be traveling with them. Before leaving, they would change into the required disguise. Tatius then led them to one more meeting with Gaius Valerius.

  “Maximus, Androcles,” said Gaius, “I want you to enjoy your voyage. In the past you have always been called upon to engage the best men of foreign cultures in battle. You have the charge this time to engage in something entirely different. Learn about these people. Live their culture. Th
ere is no specific time set for your return. You will report back by courier who this man Jesus really is and what validity Rome should place on the concerns of the prefect. We want to know specifically if he is a political or military threat. Gauge the climate of the people and mingle as best you can with them. We also want an assessment of the rule of Pontius Pilate and our client-king Herod Antipas. We need to know if they are effective leaders and if the system we have in place is working well and generally obeyed. As soon as you feel you have the information the Senate is seeking, you are free to return home. You will both receive a healthy reward as well as some real time away from the business of the empire, not simply a handful of days, as has been the case this time.”

  Gaius gave them a scroll under the seal of Tiberius stating their identity and authorizing their travel should they encounter any resistance from Roman authorities during their journey. He handed each man a purse of money. He also gave them a letter to present to Pilate, instructing him that any request denied General Maximus would be a denial of the wishes of the emperor himself. The senator knew that Pilate’s desire to have Rome think well of him would guarantee Maximus and Androcles the best of care and respect. Lastly, Gaius saluted them both. “May the gods be with you.”

  Androcles stuffed his sword and dagger into the satchel.

  “My good commander,” Gaius said, seizing Androcles’s arm. “You are posing as a citizen of Judaea. I doubt you will be able to keep your cover wielding such glorious weapons, particularly a sword with the shield of Rome emblazoned on its hilt.”

  Androcles looked at Gaius to gauge the seriousness of his words.

  Gaius continued, “You are not to be discovered as Roman citizens and soldiers of Rome.”

  But Androcles could not stop clutching the weapon. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been without a sword. For him it was like giving up a body part. He simply could not do it.

  Maximus interjected, “I understand the need to appear like harmless Judaeans, but even they carry weapons, especially when traveling.”

  Gaius stared at the two for a moment and then sighed. “Just the daggers,” he conceded, “and keep them well concealed. No one in Judaea will have daggers the likes of yours. In fact, I have a better idea. Tatius will find daggers suitable for your journey. Leave your weapons with me. I will give them to you upon your return.” It seemed a reasonable request. Androcles reluctantly parted with his weapons. It was visibly painful for him.

  Early the next morning they met Tatius Lucianus, who had arranged a coach to take them to Ostia, a trip that would take most of the morning. Androcles was uncomfortable at being weaponless for the first time he could remember. But even more uncomfortable for them both were the unfamiliar robes Tatius had supplied and which they were now required to wear.

  When they arrived in Ostia, the port was bustling with all manner of cargo and culture and ships flying under colorful banners of the various regions that bordered the great sea. The coach, pulled by anxious and tired horses, turned down the main road that paralleled the docks. The organized commotion of loading and unloading cargo continued without interruption, the workers not giving much notice to the coach passing by, much less the people hidden inside. Tatius directed the driver to a vessel humming with activity. It had two tall masts and was the largest ship in port. Tatius pointed it out and said, “Your new home.” It flew the standards of Egypt. Sailors clad only in white loincloths streamed in and out of the ship like ants of an anthill, carrying sacks of grain and pottery storage urns. A stern Egyptian soldier shouted orders and epithets to the scurrying crew.

  The coach turned left down a narrow side street just past the ship. Tatius directed the driver to a group of buildings hidden from direct view of the dock. He wanted Maximus and Androcles to disembark out of view of the sailors. Even though they were dressed as Jews it would raise suspicions if they were seen getting out of the ornate coach. Once hidden from view he told them to exit the coach and he would return and find them. The coach pulled away and Maximus and Androcles were left alone. Their usual confident demeanor had somehow departed. They were both self-conscious in their new clothing.

  A small group of Roman soldiers suddenly rounded the corner and approached them on the street. Maximus and Androcles deferentially moved aside, turning their backs and concealing their faces. One of the larger men brushed against Androcles a little too hard, forcing him into a stone wall. Androcles wanted to wrestle his dagger away and slit his throat for the calculated insult. Maximus grabbed his friend’s arm, pulling him away from an unnecessary conflict.

  Androcles complied but silently fumed as the arrogant soldiers passed. “I’m not sure I can do this,” he said quietly.

  “Yes, you can, and you will,” Maximus responded. “Would you say that if we were facing an enemy of ten times our strength?”

  “No, but that’s different,” Androcles answered.

  “No, it isn’t, my brother. We will constantly be outnumbered and harassed in this campaign. Our sword and dagger are our wits and the strength to hold our tongue,” Maximus counseled his friend.

  “I haven’t trained well with those weapons,” Androcles admitted.

  “Then it’s time to start.” Maximus slugged his friend playfully to drive his point home. “In the meantime, don’t forget how to use your real sword and dagger. I am sure there will come a day when they will desperately be needed.”

  “My faithful brothers!” A kind voice hailed them from down the street. It was that of an elderly man dressed in a drab gray wool robe. Despite his appearance, Maximus noted that he moved toward them with the confidence and air of a nobleman. A dark cloth draped over his head and shoulders partially covered a head of graying hair. His long full beard was speckled with gray, reddish, and black hair. On his shoulder he carried three poles with a sack slung on the end of one. “You stand out like two palm trees in the desert.” He smiled broadly and lowered the poles and the cloth sack to the ground. “We must change that as soon as possible.” He spoke the perfect Greek of a noble Roman. Maximus and Androcles were caught off guard by his engaging manner.

  “My name is Ezra.” He held out his hand in greeting to each of them. They shook it warily. He continued to speak in a subdued tone. “I have been commissioned by our mutual friend Gaius Valerius to accompany you on your journey to Judaea. I am the emissary who was sent by Pontius Pilate. Gaius told me you would know who I am and the reason I have come to Rome.” He looked at them directly, expecting an answer.

  Maximus finally spoke. “Yes, we know of you and welcome your company. Please accept my apologies for our lack of manners, sir. My friend Androcles and I are not used to looking like this.” Maximus looked down self-consciously at the clothes he was wearing.

  “That’s obvious,” Ezra said with a broad smile and hearty laughter. “I apologize. Do not judge my laughter as disrespect. It’s just that the two of you have the self-conscious look of being dressed like women. Let me assure you both: on the surface you look like common Jews, but your bearing is still that of Roman soldiers. We need to work on that.” His eyes twinkled.

  Ezra cautiously looked about, then bade them follow him a short distance down the street to a secluded area behind a wall overgrown with vines. He reached into the sack, producing two plain daggers and handing one to each of them. Androcles hefted his carefully and began to relax.

  “I brought these as well.” He handed each man a staff. “They are customary for travelers, and in a pinch they can be a crude replacement for the swords I know you are pining for.” Each staff was about six feet long. Made from dried hardwood that had been cut to the proper length and smoothed with the sharp blade of a knife or hatchet, both had several knots and seemed well worn. Androcles could not see any likeness to a sword in the staff, but he could certainly see that if properly used, the long staff could cause a lot of damage in a battle. He was feeling better.

  Ezra continued. “I cut these myself and had them worked with oil and fine san
d to age them a bit. It would appear odd if you both carried new staffs. We don’t want to do anything to draw unnecessary attention.”

  Maximus was impressed with Ezra’s eye for detail. They had a lot to learn, and he would be a good teacher.

  “There is one important thing we need to do.” Ezra paused as he sized up both of them with his aged brown eyes. “Give you different names. I can’t continue calling you Maximus and Androcles. After seeing you both, I think I have made a good decision. Maximus, you will be known as Jacob. Androcles, we will call you Levi. They are good, strong Jewish names.” Ezra looked at them, pleased at the names he had chosen. “If this ploy is going to work, you need to leave everything Roman on the docks today. You—” he tapped the back of his hand on Maximus’s chest, “need to become Jacob, and you—” he did the same to Androcles, “need to become Levi. We will have plenty of time on our voyage to create lives and stories for each of you and teach you the comportment of a modest Jew.”

  Jacob was starting to like Ezra and feel more comfortable about the task ahead. Ezra was skillful and unassuming. His attention to detail would be critical. Maximus judged they were in good hands.

  “I have one more thing for you.” Ezra bent to retrieve something else out of his sack. He came up with two folded pieces of cloth, one a grayish blue and the other a dark brown. He handed the gray one to Jacob and the brown one to Levi. “Head coverings,” he announced. “Better to help you look the part. Wear them like mine.” He watched, amused, as they struggled to get them just right on their heads and draped over their shoulders. He helped each of them make the final adjustments. “There,” he smiled, “we are ready to go!” Ezra chuckled with satisfaction at his two charges. “Now come.”

 

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