The Making of the Lamb

by Bear, Robert

  He leaped across the stream that marked the halfway point between the mine and his hut. Jesus remained at his mother’s house, so when Daniel was in Priddy, he had the place to himself. Perhaps I should bring Bridget to see it. Then she’d realize I’m not just Jesus’s cousin, but a man with a home and livelihood of my own. She didn’t have to know that Jesus had put as much work into that home as he had.

  “Good morning, Daniel.”

  He turned, half expecting to find Esmeralda. But it was a Celtic lass, shorter and thinner than Bridget, with a sweet face surrounded by a cloud of auburn ringlets. He smiled. “Do I know you?”

  “Probably not.” On one arm, she carried a basket of pears and apples. “But I know you. Everyone knows you. Daniel bar Joseph, the famous miner of silver.”

  He snorted. She must be the only one who doesn’t think of me as Jesus’s cousin.

  “You must be very wealthy and powerful,” she said.

  “Huh. Neither. We make a good living, but most of the profit goes right back into operations.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure you know best how to run your business.”

  Papa does far more of the running than I. “What is your name?”

  “Eurielle.”

  “Thank you, Eurielle. You’re very sweet.”

  “Don’t flatter me, you outlander. I know who has your heart.”

  “Do you?”

  “It’s common knowledge that you are besotted with Bridget of the Belgae.”

  “And is it common knowledge that she ignores me?”

  She giggled, but didn’t answer the question.

  “How is it that I have lived in this region all this time and not met you before?” Daniel asked.

  Eurielle shrugged. “Your eyes must have been elsewhere. Why should you spare your gaze on a plain girl like me?”

  He laughed. “There is nothing plain about you.”

  “Now you are mocking my red-headedness, sir.” Her voice sounded petulant, but her eyes showed mirth.

  “How could I mock such beauty?”

  “Hah! You are a flatterer. It will avail you not. I must go, sir.” She turned aside, but after a few steps, she turned back. “Yet…let me leave you with something.” She took a pear from her basket and pressed it into his hand. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

  “I hope so, Eurielle.”

  Mary

  Alone in her house, making her own prayer, Mary was not at all conflicted in her purpose.

  Please God, Jesus is everything to me. I care nothing about how great he could be. I am a mother who wants her son to live and be happy. He is kind and good. He does not deserve this torment. Give him the life he deserves. If someone must suffer this horrible death, let it be me. I gladly give myself in his place.

  Daniel

  Daniel awoke early, alone in his hut, as hungry for Aunt Mary’s bread as he was for Bridget’s company. He quieted the grumbling in his stomach with a bit of old bread soaked in honey, and he set out for the mine. The morning was cold and damp, and a thick mist lay across the landscape.

  Once again, as he crossed the landmark stream, Eurielle appeared. “Good morning, Daniel.”

  “Good morning, Eurielle.” Today her basket was empty. Perhaps she had yet to do her harvesting. “You’re a very industrious girl, aren’t you? Out doing your gathering at the break of dawn—one of our wise men said a woman who rises before dark to provide for her family is worthy of praise.”

  “Sir, you are flattering again.”

  “I speak only the truth.”

  “You may be handsome and successful, but why should I allow myself to be toyed with? I would only lose you to Bridget of the Belgae in the end. Why should I suffer such heartbreak?”

  “You do not know Bridget well. Her eyes are on Jesus only. She spares no interest for anyone else.”

  “But he will refuse her, won’t he? And when he does, she’ll turn to you for solace, and poor Eurielle will be out in the cold, alone.”

  “I daresay a pretty girl like you will never be alone for long.”

  “I could say the same for a handsome fellow like you. Just wait. When Jesus throws her over, Bridget will come running.”

  “How do you know he will do that?”

  Her laugh was like water in a brook. “Everyone knows that you are the one interested in the ladies, and that your cousin will have none.”

  How could everyone know that? It is a thing we’ve discussed only between the two of us. Perhaps people noticed Jesus’s behavior toward the girls at festivals, and surmised the rest.

  “I tell you, Bridget has great fondness for you,” Eurielle said.

  “Bridget pays no attention to me.”

  She sighed. “You men are oblivious. She is toying with you, Daniel. Every girl knows that paying a man too much attention gives him an inflated opinion of himself. And most fellows have far too inflated opinions to begin with. She only pretends to ignore you because she wants you to pursue her.”

  Daniel halted. “You are mad.”

  She smiled coyly over her shoulder. “Perhaps in spite of all your flirtations, you do not understand women as well as you think.” She continued ahead.

  He followed. I don’t understand women at all. Who can? “This makes no sense. If she wants me to pursue her, how am I to know that if she gives me no sign?”

  “She will give you a sign when she is ready. And when she does, you had best be prepared to give her all a man is able to. If you can’t win her at that point, you’ll lose her forever.”

  “That’s insane.”

  “I am giving you all the secrets of womanhood.” She turned and faced him, one hand on her hip. “Do you want to know the way to understand a woman, or don’t you?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then listen to me. When she gives the barest sign of her true feelings for you—the touch of a hand, a kiss on the cheek—then you must return her affection with all the passion a man can muster. She will say no, no, to test your persistence. Because a man who gives up is weak. So you must press on. Otherwise you’re no man at all.” She spun about and walked away.

  “Wait. Eurielle…” He chased after her, calling her, but lost her in the heavy mist.

  Jesus

  Joseph had told Jesus that he should expect Elsigar to come calling now that he was out of bed, and sure enough the archdruid summoned Jesus to walk with him up the Tor.

  Elsigar pointed out the mysterious ridges, but Jesus already knew what they looked like. He also knew the Tor had been reformed at its base into the shape of a teardrop.

  “The reshaping of the Tor has all the signs of magic,” said Elsigar, “and you were the only one at the summit that night. You understand how significant the Tor is to us. It is the gateway to the Underworld, and now it will never be the same.”

  “I was not the only one at the summit. God the Father was here, too.” Jesus told Elsigar what God had commanded, that he give himself over to death on a cross. He told Elsigar how he had defied the Father. “It was he, not I, who reshaped the Tor. He made it into a monument to his sadness and anger.”

  “This Father you speak of would be the god of your people—the one true god whom you imagine to be the creator of the universe. Is that right?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  Elsigar shook his head. “And yet you would have me believe that you defy him.”

  “I am not sure what I will do when the time comes, but I suppose that would be one way of putting it—that I defy him.”

  “I cannot allow any outlander practicing magic to stay in Britain.”

  “That is what you said when we first met.”

  “I wonder if the damage to the Tor is the price we must pay for my decision to allow you to stay. What you have told me is the most ridiculous story I have ever heard. Too ridiculous to make up, so I suppose you must believe it…and that relieves you of the accusation of practicing magic. I cannot blame you for what any god does, even if you provoked his anger.
That is not the same as practicing magic.”

  “That is good to hear. I feel I would be starting down the pathway to crucifixion if I return to Galilee right now.”

  “As I have watched you over these years, I have never understood how you could worship only one god. You say he commands you to submit to a horrible and shameful death. It must be hard, having your god command you like that, if you have no other god you can turn to instead. You should think about becoming a druid; we have plenty of gods who are not nearly as demanding.”

  “I have not decided what I am going to do.”

  “Consider it. You have not studied for twenty years like our novices, but you have much of what a druid needs to know already. It will not take you that long, and it would open up a pathway in your life that will keep you off that cross.”

  Bridget

  While Jesus was away with Elsigar, Bridget took a large basket into the wild orchard to fetch some apples. She had half-filled the container when a girl popped her head of tousled red hair from behind a tree.

  “Hello, Princess Bridget. I thought I was the only one gathering fruit at this hour.”

  “I could say the same,” Bridget answered. The girl was thin, but not thin enough to hide behind an apple tree. Where had she come from? “Do I know you?”

  “Oh, no, ma’am. I’m just a common girl. I’m Eurielle. But everyone knows you. Princess of the Belgae.”

  Bridget stood on her toes to reach a branch, and drew it down so the shorter girl could reach. “Please help yourself, Eurielle.”

  “Oh, thank you, ma’am. You’re very kind.” The girl plucked apples from the branch and dropped them in her basket. “Everyone says so. Everyone admires your dedication in staying so long to help Jesus. Even if it is rather foolish.”

  Bridget loosed the branch. It snapped away, sending a couple of apples flying. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I meant no disrespect, your Highness, but it’s common knowledge that Jesus is devoted to his family.”

  “As am I.”

  Eurielle laughed. “No, you are devoted only to him. But when you shun his cousin…” She shook her head. “Oh, ma’am. Jesus doesn’t care for people who are rude to Daniel.”

  “I have never been rude to Daniel.”

  “You scarcely speak to him. And yet he’s so very handsome, and successful, and wise. His silver mines make him one of the richest men in the region.”

  “I don’t care about riches.”

  “Of course you don’t. You care about power. About protecting your people. But doesn’t the one achieve the other? The Britons can’t be protected from the Romans without funding a great army.” Eurielle turned to face Bridget. “Daniel was at Rumps, too, you know. He knows what war requires.”

  “And what do you know of war?”

  Eurielle’s sweet voice turned heavy. “I’ve seen more than you can imagine, ma’am.” She smiled. “You’ll never get in Jesus’s good favor if you treat his cousin poorly. They are like brothers.” The girl stepped closer. “Win over one, and you may win over the other.”

  Bridget folded her arms. “You’re saying I should use Daniel to get to Jesus.”

  “Daniel is already enamored of you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  She giggled. “Everyone knows that. If you show kindness to Daniel—just sisterly kindness, nothing more—the touch of a hand, a kiss on the cheek—he may yet commend you to Jesus. And if that still doesn’t work…well, you’ll have Daniel. And having him would surely be the next best thing to having Jesus.”

  “There is no substitute. If I can’t have Jesus, I’ll die a spinster.”

  Eurielle’s light laugh turned to a cackle. “That would be rather pointless, don’t you think, Your Highness?” She looked at her basket. “Ah, it seems my work is done. Good day, Your Highness.” She walked away, soon disappearing into the wood.

  Good day, you strange little girl. But as Bridget returned to the house, she kept turning over in her mind the idea that Daniel might commend her to Jesus. Yes, he might.

  Lucifer

  The Fallen One chose his time carefully. He could not molest Jesus directly; God had forbidden that for now. Nor would it do for Lucifer to allow Jesus to sense his presence, so he stayed away from Ynys Witrin until one day in the spring when Jesus went on his own to look for another lode of silver ore in the Mendip Hills.

  Luck was with Daniel that day, or so he thought. He was helping his father with some repairs to the refinery furnace, when Bridget came strolling by.

  Lucifer and Eurielle watched from a distance. “You sowed your seeds well, little one,” he told her. “I will use Daniel’s lust for the girl and lead him to ruin.”

  “But master, that will hurt only Daniel. What about Jesus? How do we reach him?”

  “Now Jesus will see Daniel’s dark side. He will turn from his beloved cousin in disgust. All the other sinners now in creation and those yet to be born are strangers to Jesus. I will lay the wickedness in Daniel bare for Jesus to see, and he will understand that all men share the same wicked nature. He will never give up his life to save them from the wickedness they bring on themselves.” So much for God’s plan for salvation He will yield the throne of heaven to me!

  Eurielle giggled.

  “You take care of Bridget,” said Lucifer. “Use her compassion. She only needs to believe for a moment that kindness to Daniel will get her what she wants.”

  Eurielle vanished.

  Lucifer would take care of Daniel himself.

  Bridget was a strong-willed woman, but Eurielle didn’t need to exert complete control over her. When Bridget saw Daniel look upon her, she understood his desire for her, and she was moved to pity even without Eurielle’s help. She walked with Daniel through the wood. It took the barest nudge from Eurielle to extend Bridget’s hand to hold Daniel’s.

  Lucifer followed them closely, seeking his moment.

  “I thought you cared nothing for me,” Daniel said.

  “You are Jesus’s cousin. How can I not care for you?”

  He stopped, gripped her hand tightly, and pulled her closer. “Do you?”

  Bridget hesitated, trembling, as if battling with Eurielle over their next move. “Uh…of course. Like a brother.” She kissed his cheek.

  “Like a brother? You mock me.”

  “No, it’s just that…Jesus is the only one I can love.”

  “Jesus? He cannot love you. Did he not tell you that he is only partly a man? He is also fully divine. He cannot return your love. It is against his nature. You need to share your life with a man, not a god. You need a man who’s fully a man.” Daniel wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close. “A man like me.” He covered her mouth with his.

  Eurielle held Bridget in place so she would taste that sweet, hard kiss, though Bridget pushed back with her right hand while Eurielle clung to her left.

  It was enough. The strength of Daniel’s will, the piety of all those years of the Arimathean’s tutelage, were crushed by the raw force of his lust. It was a scant beachhead, but Satan took it.

  He tore off her cloak.

  Bridget pulled away. “Daniel, stop!” Eurielle fled.

  He reached for the laces of her bodice and pulled them halfway open.

  Again, she cried out for Daniel to stop, and part of Daniel’s soul cried out likewise. But he was no longer in control. He kicked her legs out from under her. His hands tore at her garments. Lucifer had him now.

  The Devil sensed her horror. She would be feeling his hardness against her body. She must know he would try to enter her. She scratched at his face and screamed.

  Lucifer continued to use Daniel, who remained helpless in the face of temptation. “You wanted her,” Satan whispered to him. “This is the way to get her.” Daniel’s sense of decency crumbled beneath the hooves of his lust.

  Her cries and her struggle, her fear and hatred fueled Satan’s fire.

  “We can do this,” Satan whispered to Da
niel’s soul. “She led us on. She deserves anything she gets now. Besides, surely she’ll learn to love you once she partakes of the pleasure of your body.”

  The hope embedded in that lie destroyed what remained of Daniel’s will.

  But a pair of bumpkins were to foil Lucifer’s plan to destroy Daniel’s soul and Bridget’s in a single stroke. Two young men passing through the orchard heard her screams.

  They grabbed Daniel’s arms and dragged him off her. He stumbled, his ankles hobbled by his own garments.

  Bridget jumped to her feet. Her skirt fell into place, covering her nakedness. She battered Daniel with her fist and spat on him. “You’re an animal. You tried to rape me, a princess of the Belgae! My father will see you dead!” She threw a left jab to his gut.

  “You wanted me.” He groaned. “You kissed me before I even touched you.”

  It did not matter to the two young men whether Bridget had kissed Daniel or not. The scratches on his face and her desperate screams said it all. The Celts could be crude and boisterous in their revelries, but the word “no” coming from a woman meant exactly that.

  Lucifer laughed silently. Daniel is nothing but my toy now. I cannot wait to feast upon his soul when he joins me in hell!

  Jesus

  Returning from Priddy the next morning, Jesus thought he could cheer everyone with his news. He had found another rich silver lode at the foot of the Mendip Hills, easy to reach from the cavern where the River Axe emerged on the surface. He had seen the ore itself after scraping away a layer of soft rock on the cave wall. He already had the samples he would need to prove his claim to Grengan.

  Arriving at his mother’s house, he found everyone in despair. Bridget was crying into Mother’s arms behind the women’s curtain. When Jesus tried to approach them, his mother decisively waved him away.

  With his head in his hands, Uncle Joseph sat in the main area near the entrance. “I cannot believe what they say about my son,” he moaned to Jesus. “They say he tried to rape Bridget. The young men who rescued her say he claimed she wanted him, but they heard her scream and saw the scratches she made on his face.”

  Jesus wrestled with this surreal news. Daniel? Rape? Impossible! “Will Elsigar charge him with a crime?”