Hanan stumbled back in agony. Menahem regained his senses and drove his sword through Hanan’s left leg, making him drop to his knees. Both men were swathed in a sheen of crimson, bleeding heavily from their bodily wounds. Menahem rushed forward as Hanan rose to his feet. A bellowing war cry came and Hanan slashed at his opponent’s rib cage, feeling the Sica blade drag across bones. Menahem spun away screaming as he moved around the campfire to avoid Hanan’s attack.
Their thick, heavy robes lay on the ground, half consumed in flames. Hanan grabbed one, then the other and threw them over the heads of the men toward the encampment. The balled robes flew like launched fireballs and landed as frantic men shoved one another aside to be clear.
Hanan felt his immense strength draining from him. He looked about for Menahem and saw men carrying him away. The rogue leader’s tunic was saturated in blood but no different than Hanan’s. Unsure whether Menahem would live or die, Hanan looked about the circle for more attackers. The majority of the men had left. A few stood staring at Hanan, but three of Menahem’s loyal followers advanced toward him with swords at the ready. They abruptly stopped and gazed over Hanan’s head. He glanced back and saw a wall of wavering flames and roiling smoke rising and sweeping across the encampment. The robes had landed near a tent. Once ablaze, the night’s breeze caught the embers and spread them among the sea of tents like cast seeds.
Weaving on his feet, he gripped his Sica and faced his attackers, but they raced past him into the camp to save their meager possessions. He grimaced from the anguish of his wounds and staggered from the camp, gasping for breath with each step. The night shrouded him once he was away from the wavering wall of fire.
***
Making his way to the river, Hanan turned north, stumbling and dragging his left leg yet never stopping until he found sufficient tall reeds and thick brush to conceal him. He wasn’t sure if he was being followed but held the Sica to his chest; a wounded animal, ready to fight to the death.
His gaze rose to the distant orange flickering glow in the sky above the encampment. He listened for men talking as they searched for him, yet only the splash and trickles of the river flowing about rocks broke the silence of the night. For now, he was safe and could dress his wounds.
Every movement spread searing pain throughout his body. In the faint light of the half-moon he removed his tunic and remained only in breechcloth and sandals. Slicing the tunic into long strips of cloth, he began to bind his wounds. He clenched his jaws to keep from screaming when he pulled and tied a strip taut about his left thigh. The exertion of strength with his right arm made a fiery pain shoot through the shoulder wound where the sword had been driven. Wrapping a wide strip about his right shoulder, he bit one end of the cloth and pulled with his left hand. The pressure on the wound slowed the bleeding but spread a throbbing ache across his chest and through his head. Yet it was the deep wound in his back on the lower right side that worried him the most. No matter how he moved, he couldn’t get relief from its burning agony. The sword had penetrated deep, too deep, slicing internal organs and muscle as it traveled in and out of him. The wound bled in a steady flow, and without a fire to heat his Sica and cauterize the wound, it would continue.
Maybe when dawn comes, he thought, wrapping himself with his last long bandage. Tightening the cloth brought greater misery. His right shoulder shot a jolt of agony throughout him, and his body shuddered as streaks of pain gripped him. He clenched his jaws and groaned in a long, guttural breath. After the knot was tied on the makeshift bandage, he fell back onto the ground, winced and gasped as waves of misery flooded him. The remaining smaller wounds would have to wait.
Hanan looked at the star filled heaven then the night faded to black.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The sun broke the horizon to climb into a clear sky. Hanan’s eyes eased opened then squinted hard against the harsh morning light. He tried to raise a hand to cover his eyes, but the movement shot fierce pain through him. The struggle to rise from his back to his feet left him exhausted and breathing heavily, grimacing from the agony of his injuries. He glanced at his left leg then his right shoulder. The bandages were wet and dark from his seeping blood. Touching fingertips to his back, they came away from the bandage saturated and red.
A fierce shiver of cold raced through him. He staggered northward along the bank of the Jordan River, hoping to find a shepherd that might give him aid. Every twenty feet his suffering forced him to rest and catch his breath. He used the time to survey the surrounding land for Menahem’s men. None were heard or seen.
A wisp of a smile formed on his lips. Maybe En Gedi is safe now, he thought.
His head throbbed with a dull ache. Each passing minute became harder for him to clearly think. Growing weaker he knew he needed to keep moving and started northward again.
The warmth of the sun felt good on his body and helped keep his shivers at bay. The pain within his right side became an iron fist, squeezing and twisting, making him lean and favor it as he moved. There was nothing more he could do except force himself to take one more step toward civilization.
Hobbling into a clearing along the river bank, his side wound shot piercing pain throughout him and became paralyzing. He halted then his legs crumbled. The flowing river was five feet away when he dropped to his knees. Face raised to the sky, he opened his palms and let his arms hang out from him. His injuries were agonizing, yet it was heartache that now forced tears from his eyes.
“I always believed in you, Yeshua... I never told you, but I believed.” Hanan grimaced from the pulsating misery within him. “You are the Christ, the Messiah. Please, don’t turn away from me like Elohim has...”
The searing pain in Hanan’s side made him bend and grab his abdomen. He cried out as he fell face down into the dirt. Breathing heavily, he laid still a moment then dug his fingers into the soil and began to crawl to the river.
The demon cast the cowl of his black robe back and knelt beside Hanan. Gaze drifting over the muscled man’s body, Abaddon paused to watch the crimson blood trailing to the ground from the wrapped wound on Hanan’s back. Rotted teeth appeared as his malicious smile spread.
“If you hadn’t interfered, I would have had seven hundred dead to choose from tonight. Oh, you cut Menahem quite well, but he’s still alive—barely, yet alive. I’ll see that he survives though. I have need of him in the future. As for you, Hanan, you’re dying. The sword sliced too many of your internal organs. I’m surprised you made it this far.” Abaddon grinned and glanced about the barren land. He sighed. “You’re going to die alone, Hanan, with no one caring—just like your whore mother wanted you to die in the wilderness the night you were born. What a befitting end.”
Hanan’s fingers curled and clawed through the soil as he inched his way into the river.
Abaddon stood, smiled and walked beside him. The demon heard Hanan mumble and cupped a hand over his ear as he bent to the dying man.
“What did you say? I couldn’t hear you because you’re dying.” The demon’s laughter carried across the river.
“Yeshua... the living water... baptize me—.”
Hanan kept crawling out into the river. The cold water rushing over his body seemed to wash away his agony and cleanse him. He struggled to hold his head up but couldn’t, then began to choke. Blood from his wounds spread across the water’s surface, formed eerie pools about him and became streaks flowing with the river’s current.
Palm trees, reeds and brush along the river bank swayed as a breeze gusted then settled.
Rather than stand rejoicing at Hanan’s misery, Abaddon’s brows drew sharply downward. He hissed like a cornered feral cat and backed away while watching a glowing figure appear by the drowning man.
“Neither my Father nor I have forsaken you, Hanan. You have found victory as He wished. Now, join me in my Father’s house.” Yeshua lowered his hands and raised Hanan from
the river.
Abaddon scowled and whipped the robe’s cowl over his head. Spinning away, he vanished within three steps.
Hanan rose from the water, holding onto Yeshua, confused, yet at peace. He glanced at his left forearm. The demon’s scar was gone. Weeping without shame, he looked at Yeshua then to the riverbank. His Sica laid half buried in the dirt. But turning to the river he saw his body, face down with arms outstretched, drifting downstream.
***
Ruth stood at the front door with David by her side, watching the dirt road that led to the house. Forty days had passed; ten more than Hanan had instructed her to wait. Stroking her son’s thick hair, she glanced over her shoulder into the vacant house. Her eyes were wet though she tried not to cry.
“It’s time to go,” she whispered, more to herself than to David.
Walking to the donkey cart loaded with their possessions, she motioned David to sit on the cart’s seat with Elizabeth and Benjamin.
“Hold this, please.” The boy handed her a carefully wrapped scroll before he began to climb. It was the Torah Hanan had given to David on his sixth birthday.
After the boy settled himself on the seat, she gently laid the scroll in his lap and walked to the donkey. Adjusting her shawl over her head, she refused to look back at the house. It would only make her cry more.
Tugging the donkey’s reins, Ruth started for Tyre.
Epilogue
Those who believed Yeshua was The Christ and followed his teachings became known as Christians though they had remained in obeyance of Judaism from birth. Christianity overlapped Judaism but years later events came about to distinguish one from the other.
A new follower replaced Judas as one of Yeshua’s twelve disciples, numbered after the Twelve Tribes of Israel. Empowered with the Holy Spirit, the disciples traveled separate paths to distant lands to baptize and spread the teachings. Paul, once known as Saul of Tarsus, spent his remaining years bringing Yeshua’s teachings to the Gentiles in Rome and abroad.
The disciples preached the love of God, Elohim, yet all except one met violent ends. They were crucified, beheaded, speared, tortured, burned and clubbed to death. Only John, who had looked after Yeshua’s mother, died of natural causes, and that came on a Roman penal colony island.
Hanan’s premonition of the violence to come proved truthful. Small at first, uprisings spread across the land and into neighboring countries where multitudes of Jewish communities existed. Zealots were blamed, though, many of the violent riots and bloody attacks on Roman administrators, soldiers, and citizens were carried out by the Sicarii.
Numerous complaints by Jewish factions had been lodged against the Prefect Pontius Pilate for bringing busts of the emperor on military standards and shields into Jerusalem and seizing Temple treasury funds for the completion of an aqueduct. After ten years as prefect, he was removed from office in 36 A.D. over quelling a suspected Samaritan insurrection by executing their leaders.
Pilate was recalled to Rome by Vitellius, the Roman legate of Syria, to answer to Emperor Tiberius for the executions. To Pilate’s good fortune Tiberius died and the matter was dropped. Tales exist of Pilate’s exile, his ordered suicide, and even of his conversion to Christianity, yet no one knows what became of him.
Upon relieving Pilate, Vitellius traveled to Jerusalem. There he removed Caiaphas, the High Priest of the Sanhedrin Council, from office and replaced him with Jonathan, Caiaphas’ brother-in-law. Caiaphas had been in office ten years the same as Pilate. Jonathan was later assassinated by the Sicarii.
Gaius ‘Caligula’ Caesar rose to power in 37 A.D. before his twenty-fifth birthday. At first, he was thought to be a noble ruler. After an illness he believed had been a poisoning attempt on his life, he became merciless and sexually perverted with a craving for absurd extravagances. By his second year of reign, Rome was in a financial downfall. To slow the demise, Caligula raised taxes across the empire. He compounded the Roman problems with the Jewish population by ordering a statue of himself to be erected in the Second Temple.
In 39 A.D., Herod Agrippa accused Herod Antipas, tetrarch of Galilee and Perea, of planning a rebellion against the empire. After Antipas confessed, Caligula banished him and his wife Herodias, Agrippa’s sister, to Gaul. Antipas died in this year and Agrippa received all of his properties. Whether the emperor ordered Antipas’ death has never been confirmed.
By 41 A.D., everyone believed Caligula to be insane and Rome teetered on the verge of financial collapse. His Praetorian Guard ended the insanity of his reign by stabbing him to death.
Throughout the empire Jews were revolting against the tyrannical control and ever-increasing taxation from the emperors. The clashes commenced small and centralized then spread. Through 45 to 46 A.D., famine struck Judea. The following year Judah, son of Ezekias the Zealot leader, captured the Roman garrison at Sepphoris. Legionnaires later crucified two of his sons.
The Zealots claimed the Sicarii were a splinter group of their organization while the Sicarii declared otherwise. Both wanted freedom from Roman rule and fought their oppressors at every turn. Unfortunately, they lacked the leadership and discipline to unite in a collaborative effort. Eleazar ben Simon argued with John of Giscala, and Simon bar Giora argued with Eleazar ben Ananias. The names of leaders changed, quarrels grew, and all while combatting the Romans.
Menahem, a blood-thirsty man, claimed leadership of the Sicarii after Hanan ben Netzer’s body was discovered floating down the Jordan River. While the Zealots attacked legionnaires, Menahem unleashed his murderous wrath upon Jews, Gentiles and Romans.
The Council of Jerusalem met between 48-50 A.D., establishing the differences between Judaism and Christianity. Circumcision was heavily debated, although, the practice was abhorred in other lands. Should Gentile followers of Yeshua be required to undergo the ritual; and without circumcision, would they still be one of God’s people? The Council addressed other problems as well; sexual sins, blood sacrifices, idolatry, and how the Laws of Moses applied to non-Jews. But in the eyes of the Roman empire, Jews and Christian Jews were one in the same.
At the age of sixteen, Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus became emperor in 54 A.D. Five years later he murdered his domineering mother. His construction programs and enjoyment of a cultural life brought increased taxes and further anger from the people. Nero acted upon whims and grew murderous. The Great Fire of Rome erupted and destroyed a majority of the city. Panic-stricken citizens accused him of setting the fires, and in turn, he accused the Jews and Christians of the city. Mass arrests and executions began. Thousands of innocent people were sent to the arena to be fed to wild animals, crucified and burned alive. His persecution of Jews and Christians then spread across the entire empire.
In Nero’s twelfth year of reign, the First Jewish Revolt, years in the making, erupted in Judea. The Prefect Gessius Florus confiscated the Second Temple’s treasury money on behalf of the emperor, then arrested anyone who protested. It was in this year too that James the Just, Yeshua’s brother, was killed by the order of the High Priest Ananus ben Ananus.
Plots against Nero’s life, as well as the number of his enemies, grew so great that he fled Rome. Rather than be murdered, Nero chose to commit suicide but lacked the courage to do so. His private secretary had to complete the act. Before dying in 68 A.D., Nero gave his general Vespasian orders to crush the Judean rebellion. Vespasian in turn placed his son, Titus, as second-in-command to lead the legions.
Romans escaped from Jerusalem as rebels overran military garrisons across Judea. The Roman legate of Syria, Cestius Gallus, ordered the reinforced Syrian Legion XII Fulminata to bring an end to the revolt. But the hunted turned hunter, and Jewish rebels ambushed and slaughtered 6,000 soldiers. In the defeat the legion’s aquila, their eagle, the prominent symbol of a Roman legion, was lost—an insult of the highest degree to Rome.
With Jerusalem under rebel control
, a Judean Provisional government was formed but immediately its leaders, priests, Zealots and Sicarii, set upon one another for the rulership. One of the rebels’ first acts was to burn the money-changers’ debt records kept in the temple. Discovery of the records only confirmed suspicions of the temple priests working with the wealthy money-changers to exploit the poor and steal their lands.
Menahem’s Sicarii stormed the fortress of Masada and slew its 700 garrisoned legionnaires to the last man. In Jerusalem at the Antonia fortress, Zealots led by Eleazar ben Ananias forced the garrison to flee. Following Eleazar, Menahem’s Sicarii entered Antonia and slaughtered the injured Romans that had been left behind.
Without proper leadership the Zealots fought amongst themselves. The Sicarii argued for the right to govern the city, and upon proclaiming himself the Messiah, Menahem demanded command of both factions. Knowing Menahem was a madman, Eleazar led his men against the Sicarii and drove them from Jerusalem. Menahem, the butcherous leader, was later captured and tortured to death.
Jerusalem became a refuge for thousands of Jews fleeing their homes due to the country-wide rebellion. Along with the refugees came pilgrims from other lands, arriving to celebrate the coming Passover. To make the city dwellers more willing to battle the oncoming Roman army, the Zealots destroyed large quantities of their food stocks. They also believed that Elohim would miraculously save them from the legions. Factions within the Zealots argued, fought and murdered one another while three Roman legions under Titus’ command swept across the land and marched toward Jerusalem.
By 68 A.D. Titus’ 70,000 soldiers had conquered the regions north of Judea. A fourth legion joined Titus, and he turned to Jerusalem, the rebels’ major stronghold.
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