Fishers of Men

by Gerald N. Lund

  “But Papa!”

  Deborah had been watching this interchange between her two oldest children with interest. By mutual consent, no one had asked Simeon where he had been for the past several days or what he had been doing. But Simeon and Ephraim had come from the warehouse together, and there had been a studied casualness between them all through supper. “Joseph?”

  He turned.

  “Your father is right. We’ll stay here and visit.”

  Ephraim gave her a grateful look, then went to her and kissed her on the cheek. He gave Leah a hug, then kissed his wife as well. “Take your time,” he said softly.

  Rachel gave him a strange look, but nodded.

  “Come on,” Simeon said to the two youngest in the family. “First one in their night clothes gets the first story.”

  VI

  Reaching out with his fingertips, Simeon gently pushed a strand of black hair away from Esther’s face. She didn’t move. He bent down and kissed her on the forehead, pulling the light blanket up around her neck. Then he moved to Boaz and did the same. Together he and Ephraim backed out of the bedroom.

  “Those are two precious little ones you have there, Brother,” Simeon said huskily, surprised by the sudden emotion in him.

  “I know. And they love you dearly, Simeon. You need to have some of your own.” He got that far before he caught himself. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  Simeon waved it away. “It’s all right. My betrothal seems like something from a different life.”

  Ephraim only nodded. They moved into the main room of the house and sat down. Simeon leaned back. “All right, I’m braced,” he said with resignation. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Ephraim laughed. “Am I that transparent?”

  “No more than a cup of water.”

  “I am going with you.”

  Whatever Simeon had braced himself for, this wasn’t it.

  “I am. I’ve thought about it all night. I’m going.”

  “No, Ephraim.” Simeon felt like he had been struck from behind. “I told you, it’s already been decided.”

  “Yes, it has, and I’m going.”

  Simeon was on his feet. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t go.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because of Rachel. And those two in there.” He sat down again, rubbing his hands through his hair. “Look, Ephraim, I may have made it sound like this is going to be a stroll along the seashore, but I know full well the risks. I won’t put both of us in danger.”

  “That’s interesting,” Ephraim said, musing. “Let’s see. I don’t know all of those men from Beth Neelah, but I do know some. Tell me about Issachar. Is he one of them?”

  Simeon flinched. How had he guessed Issachar’s name, of all of them?

  “Well, is he?”

  “Yes.”

  “If I remember right, he’s married, isn’t he?”

  Simeon nodded, guessing what was coming.

  “Children?”

  “Two.”

  There was an incredulous look. “Only two? Well, that explains it then. And I’ve got how many?” He pretended to be calculating. “All right, with so many children of my own, I see why you think I shouldn’t go.”

  “Ephraim, I—” He took a deep, pain-filled breath.

  “And what about Joshua? He’s betrothed, isn’t he?” The sarcasm was light but unmistakable. “Well, as long as he’s not married. Let’s see, who else? Oh, yes. There’s Ezekiel, but then I suppose his wife and four children won’t mind—”

  “All right!” Simeon snapped. “You’ve made your point. But you are not going.”

  “Why not!” Ephraim snapped right back.

  “Because you are my brother.” His voice fell to an agonized whisper as he gestured toward the bedroom. “I can’t take away their father.”

  “Yes, I am your brother, Simeon, and I want you to listen to me. I know you have to do something about Yehuda. I don’t want to try to talk you out of that. But this is not the way.”

  “Then give me another!” Simeon cried.

  “I can’t! I don’t know what you should do. I only know this is not right.” He got up and came to stand before Simeon. “Look,” he said, pleading now. “You are torn with guilt because Daniel is dead and Yehuda and two other men are in prison. You lost Shana because of what happened that night. I understand all that. But what you did was the right thing, Simeon.” He grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him gently. “It was. You know it was. But what if something goes wrong now? It won’t be just Shana you have to face anymore. It will be eight other wives or who knows how many children.”

  Simeon stared at the floor. “Don’t you think I’ve thought about that? Yehuda is their neighbor, their cousin, their comrade. They know the risks. I know the risks.”

  “Do you know the exact protocol for getting a prisoner released?” He overrode any answer. “Do you know if the guards are required to confirm the governor’s signature?”

  Simeon just shook his head. “You give me something better, and I’ll do it in a minute.”

  “You’ve got to count the cost, Simeon. Isn’t that what Jesus told you? And counting the cost includes counting the consequences.”

  “You’ve been talking to Father,” Simeon said dully, all life gone from him now.

  “Yes. Actually this family has talked about little else since you left. And prayed about little else.” He dropped to one knee, lowering himself enough to look into Simeon’s face. “Go ask Jesus again, Simeon.”

  Simeon felt a burst of pain. “Don’t you get it, Ephraim? He’s not going to answer me. He gave me some general principles, but it is up to me to work out what that means. He is not going to tell me specifically what to do. That is not his way.”

  “Then lets us talk about it. Let’s make it a family question. There has got to be something better than this.”

  Simeon jerked free. “No!” He raised a clenched fist and shook it at him. “You promised you wouldn’t say anything, Ephraim.”

  “And I won’t. Not unless you tell me I can.”

  Simeon dropped back. “We can make it work.” His voice was low and filled with pain. “I’m praying that we can make it work.”

  Moving back to his chair, Ephraim sat down again, knowing that he was losing. “How soon do you go?”

  “I’ve got some things I have to do here first. That will take a couple of days. Then I’m going to Caesarea. I need to get into the Praetorium and see the layout for myself.”

  Ephraim just shook his head in disbelief. “I know you can pass for a Roman just about anywhere, but what are you going to do if you happen to bump into that tribune? Isn’t that where he’s stationed? Will you just nod and wave and pass on by and hope he doesn’t notice?”

  “If you think you’re asking me things I haven’t already asked myself, you disappoint me.”

  “Will you at least not decide yet? Keep looking for answers. We’ll go and hear Jesus again. He should be back tomorrow. Maybe if Peter talks to him, Jesus will be more specific.”

  Simeon shrugged. There was no hope in him.

  “Two days. Will you give it at least two more days?”

  Simeon got wearily to his feet. “Thank you, Ephraim.” He came over and put his arms around him. “Thank you for caring.”

  They held each other, both awkward in the depth of the moment. “Will you at least think about it?” Ephraim finally asked. “Just for two more days?”

  Simeon nodded, too tired to fight any longer.

  Chapter 5

  Fortune favors the bold.

  —Virgil, Aeneid, x.284

  I

  Jerusalem 25 June, a.d. 30

  “Miriam! Wake up!” Livia reached over and shook her vigorously. “Wake up!”

  With a soft moan, Miriam cracked one eye open. “Livia?” Then confirming who it was, she swatted at her. “Go away!”

  Livia grabbed her hands and half-dragged her to a sitting position. “Miriam! You’ve got t
o wake up. Your father is home!”

  Miriam started to fall back, but then Livia’s words registered. She sat up fully. “Papa?”

  “Yes, he’s home. He came in late last night.”

  “But . . . ” She was confused. She had been up until nearly midnight; now as she looked out, she saw the sun was up.

  Livia sat down by her. “He was in Caesarea.” Her eyes were wide and touched with fear. “The tribune is with him.”

  That brought Miriam to stiff attention. “What? Marcus?”

  Livia nodded quickly. “What if they know about—” Her mouth pinched. “Oh, Miriam!”

  Miriam reached out and took her servant by the shoulders and steadied her. “Everything is fine, Livia. I’m sure that Father just went there to get a report.”

  “He wants to see you right away.”

  She swung her feet over the edge of the bed. “Did you tell him I was asleep?”

  “Levi told him.” Levi was her father’s chief servant. “Levi came and awakened me.”

  One hand came up unconsciously to pull at the tangle of her dark hair. “And Marcus is here?” Miriam asked again.

  “Yes. He’s waiting downstairs with your father.”

  Miriam stood swiftly, her mind finally fully functioning. “Tell them it will take me a few minutes to get dressed.”

  “Yes, Miriam.”

  As Livia started for the door, Miriam called to her. “Livia?”

  She turned.

  “There is nothing wrong,” she said firmly. “We just went to visit Lilly and Ezra while Father was gone. He knows I hate to be alone in this huge house. Everything will be all right.”

  Livia nodded gravely and managed a wan smile. “I hope you are right.”

  II

  At the door of the library, Livia gave Miriam’s hand a quick squeeze, then left her. This was not a meeting for servants. Miriam entered the luxuriously furnished room, then stopped dead. Ezra was seated there, but no one else was in the room.

  “I thought you went back to Joppa,” she cried, her knees suddenly weak with gratitude. If Ezra was here to stand with her it would be all right.

  He smiled. “I had a few things to do here in Jerusalem.” He glanced quickly at the door. “I thought it might be well if I were here when your father returned.”

  “Oh yes, thank you.”

  They turned at the sound of footsteps in the hall. The door opened and her father walked in. She ran to him and put her arms around him, kissing him soundly on the cheek. In spite of all that had happened, she was very glad to see him. “This is a nice surprise,” she said.

  “I thought it might be.” He hugged her tightly for a moment—holding her for just a moment or two longer than normal—and kissed her back. “It is so good to see you, Miriam.”

  “And you, Papa. Did your business go well in Alexandria?”

  He frowned. “Yes, very well.”

  “I suppose Levi told you that Livia and I have been in Joppa while you were gone.” She smiled brightly at her cousin’s husband. “Ezra was kind enough to bring us back here.”

  Her father half turned. “I am very grateful for that. Very grateful.”

  That was not what she had expected. She was braced for questions about why she had gone to Joppa and stayed so long. Miriam looked more closely at her father. “Are you all right, Papa? You look very tired.”

  “I am. We traveled until late, then rose early to come on into the city.”

  Miriam looked around. “Livia said that Marcus came with you.”

  “He did. He left a few minutes ago to take his men over to the Antonia Fortress. He needs to return to Caesarea first thing tomorrow morning. He and his men need some rest.”

  To her surprise, Miriam felt both relief and disappointment. She had steeled herself for the meeting, prepared to put on an innocent face in front of her father and Marcus. Yet she realized now that she had been a little excited to see Marcus again too.

  Her father took her by the arm, guiding her toward the empty chair beside Ezra. As she sat down, Mordechai went behind the large table and took his chair. In that position, the light from the large window illuminated his face fully. She drew in a breath. This was more than weariness she saw. The lines around his eyes were deep. His mouth was pinched and drawn. He looked suddenly much older than he actually was.

  “Father, what’s wrong?”

  His shoulders lifted and fell as he took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Miriam, I have something to say. I want you to listen carefully and not interrupt until I am through.” He glanced at Ezra. “I’m glad you’re here to hear this too. It will save me writing a letter to you.”

  A little shiver ran through Miriam’s body. She had never seen her father quite so somber. Did Pilate know after all? Simeon had sworn that no one else knew of her involvement, not even Yehuda. But what if Pilate had somehow learned of her role in all of this?

  He began then, and in a moment immense relief swept through her. As he told her of the events at the Joknean Pass it became immediately clear that he had no inkling of her role in those events. She fought to keep her face calm. He didn’t know!

  What he told them was only a partial version of what had actually happened, of course. The fact that the whole thing was actually an elaborate ruse concocted by her father in cooperation with the Romans was not even hinted at.

  A rush of bitterness welled up inside her again. She had been one of his game pieces, pushed about the board to further his own ends. She forced herself to listen intently, pretending growing astonishment, as did Ezra. There were a few surprises. It came as a great relief to hear that Yehuda and his two followers had not been executed yet, and they would not be for several more months. She hadn’t known that more than two dozen Roman soldiers had been killed by Ya’abin’s treachery. Pilate must be in a fury over that.

  As her father continued, Miriam only half listened. A new thought had sprung into her mind. Did she dare approach him about paying a ransom for Yehuda and having him freed? Going to Caesarea and asking Marcus to help would have been foolhardy. She accepted that now. But her father owed a debt to Simeon and Yehuda as much as Miriam did. She wouldn’t have to give anything away.

  Then suddenly, her father’s words jolted her back to awareness. She shook her head, throwing off her other thoughts. “Rome?” she blurted.

  He laughed softly. “I thought that might get your attention.”

  “Rome! What did you say about going to Rome?”

  There was impatience in his eyes. “Where were you, Daughter? This is serious.”

  She was half-stammering now. “I was thinking about Yehuda and that day that he and Simeon came into our camp and saved us from Ya’abin.”

  He shook his head in exasperation. “Miriam. We are in danger. I don’t want to frighten you unnecessarily, but we have to face reality.” He glanced at Ezra, who had not said a word through all of this. “You see it, don’t you?”

  “I do,” he said soberly. Then Ezra looked at her, and there was silent warning in his eyes. “If what we know about this Ya’abin is even half-true, Miriam, there is great danger.”

  “Danger?” she finally managed, realizing that she sounded like a slow child.

  Her father threw up his hands and rocked back. “Good heavens, Miriam, have you not heard a word?” He shot to his feet, leaning over the table, his voice hard. “Moshe Ya’abin is out there somewhere. Marcus learned this morning that he attacked the maniple of soldiers out looking for him. Came in at night. Eight men were killed and the camp set afire.”

  That was enough to get her full attention. If Ya’abin was strong enough to hit a Roman camp, then . . .

  “I’m the one who sent him to the Joknean. He knows now it was a trap to try to catch him. He’s going to be looking for revenge, Miriam, and it won’t be just me that he comes after. I’m sorry. It’s not a pleasant prospect, but that’s what we are facing.”

  He looked at Ezra. “I don’t think he’ll bo
ther you and Lilly. I doubt he even knows that Ihave relatives in Joppa. But I want you to be especially careful as well.”

  Ezra nodded, then turned to Miriam. “Your father is right. You can’t stay here. Not until Ya’abin is caught.”

  She sat back, staring fixedly at her father’s face. “Rome? You want me to go to Rome?”

  “Yes,” he said, pleased to see that she was finally with him again. “With me. And Pilate is going to send Marcus back with us too.”

  Finally he smiled, looking again at Ezra. “I knew she’d be speechless.” Then he rushed on, speaking to her again. “We’ve talked about it before, Miriam. You said you liked the idea. It’s just going to be sooner than we thought.”

  He saw that she was still a little staggered by it all.

  “I’ve thought about other alternatives—Alexandria, Antioch, Damascus. But Ya’abin could still find us there.” He took a quick breath. “And it’s not just Ya’abin. The Zealots are going to think I’m the one who betrayed them.”

  But you are the one who betrayed them! Fortunately, her lips were pressed tightly together and she had shouted the words only in her mind. But he was right. Her mind was working now. Ya’abin wouldn’t be the only one bent on getting revenge, and the Zealots had been known to penetrate even the loftiest halls of Jerusalem. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe. Only one word finally came out, and that was a strained whisper. “When?”

  “Four weeks.” He was all business again. “There are some things I must do before I can leave, but I dare not leave you here even for that long. I want you to go back to Caesarea with Marcus tomorrow. You’ll be safe there until we sail. I’ll come as quickly as possible.”

  It was the second numbing blow in as many minutes. “Caesarea? No, Father.”

  His face went instantly hard. “Miriam, don’t fight me on this. I can’t be worrying about you while I’m trying to get my affairs in order.”

  Without realizing it, she was on her feet. “Not Caesarea. Hire guards for the house. If need be, Livia and I will not go out until Ya’abin is caught.” Even as she said it, she realized how foolish she sounded. “Please, Papa. Four weeks in the palace with Pilate and his wife and a bunch of Romans . . . I can’t.”