The Light of Our Yesterdays

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The Light of Our Yesterdays Page 41

by Ken Hansen


  Tomadus thanked her and tore open the message. He stood and said quickly, “I must leave at once. Yohanan has asked me to collect his sister and bring her to Jerusalem as soon as possible. He does not explain why, but I fear the worst.”

  Chapter 62

  Yohanan smiled between the iron bars. “Thank you two for coming. Tomadus, you are not family. Why did they allow you in here?”

  “I brought him with me as my public escort,” Jochi said. “They did not turn him away.”

  Yohanan gripped the bars between them tightly. “Well, thank you, but please do not worry for me. I have accepted my fate.”

  “But, Yohanan, we can fight this,” responded Tomadus. “You were trying to stop the assassination attempt. They must see that!”

  “My friend, I am dead already. I was dead as soon as I set foot in Jerusalem.”

  “What do you mean? I’ll hire the best attornatus. Isa will help us. And I can call the First Consul. You are in the right. You will be exonerated.”

  “There are no attornati in Sharia law, and the judge will not care about what Isa or the First Consul think. Besides, I am guilty.”

  “Stop saying that. You were trying to prevent the assassination.”

  “No, I am guilty. I killed Decima. I turned her into a killing machine, and then I let her go seek her vengeance. And by yelling to her, I alerted the guards at the very moment they were most trigger-happy. I should have found another way. I killed her just like I killed her father before her. I am responsible for the deaths of so many throughout my life that I can’t even count them anymore. Don’t you see, Tomadus, I deserve to be executed.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” said Tomadus. “You were in a war in Tetepe. You killed because you knew no other way to help your people survive.”

  Yohanan shook his head. “Is that what you told me that day in Tetepe when you wanted me to find another way? I think not, my friend.”

  “But you have found another way. Let’s get you out of here now so you can continue that fight for peace. We need you, Yohanan, to help set Tetepe free.”

  Jochi had been staring at Yohanan and crying, obviously searching for something to say. She said softly, “Please do not give up. Fight this. Your friends need you. For God’s sake, I need you.”

  Yohanan looked through the bars at Jochi for a long time with a sad look of deep sympathy on his face. He grabbed her hands in his and stroked her fingers slowly with his thumbs. “I am sorry, but I know it is my time. You’ll be fine. Promise me that you will follow Isa and spread his message to Tetepe and the world. That is how you can best remember me.”

  Unable to speak, she nodded slowly, her eyes nearly shut, unable to hold back the tears.

  Tomadus watched Jochi with a mixture of awe, sadness and déjà vu. The tears in her eyes darkly mirrored the cover of Tempus, but she was just a little girl then. There was something else in her manner, something deep in his corrupted memory. He strained for it, but it was still a tendril away. It languished beyond his grasp. He looked at Yohanan. “Do not abandon hope. I’ll get you out of here. You’re innocent. If anything, you are a hero.”

  “It does not matter,” replied Yohanan.

  “Why?”

  “Because even if I am released, they will just find another time and place to put me to death. This is Hugleikr’s doing. His men knew I was coming, and he outsmarted us once again.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  Yohanan shook his head slowly. “Is it? Raanan and the others were in a cell next to me. Last night, I saw Raanan visited by a man I recognized as Hugleikr’s security chief. Not an hour later, Raanan and the other Demoseps were released, smiling from ear to ear. I am now the only official scapegoat of this tragedy. Well, along with Decima, who was already sacrificed by that traitor.”

  “Raanan? A traitor?”

  “Sure. Just before she died, Decima said, ‘You were right. Traitor!’ She looked into my eyes not with anger but with regret. When I saw Raanan released, it made me think again about what happened. I saw the look of shock and wonder on her face when the bomb on her belly failed to explode in Hugleikr’s face. She had been so willing to sacrifice herself for the cause but suddenly realized Raanan had betrayed her. So she died knowing she had become Raanan’s personal sacrifice to Hugleikr. Who knows what the Snake will get in return? No doubt Raanan had blamed poor Eliezer for his own treachery in the Konverteraften Massacre. She must have realized that the instant before she died. Hugleikr has won.”

  Since there was no communication pod in the home of Isa’s Corinthian benefactor, it had taken Tomadus nearly a day to contact Isa. After a few messages, they finally arranged for a call at a public pod in Corinth. Though he feared the authorities would be listening in, Tomadus saw no alternative to taking the call in his hotel room. And now he sounded anxious while Isa sounded far too distant.

  “Isa, you must come. You know Yohanan—he is innocent—but he will be killed if we do not stop this charade. You have influence among some of the Muslims here. Please, I seek only justice and mercy for him.”

  “Tomadus, why do you seek for Yohanan on Earth that which my Father has already granted him in Heaven?”

  Tomadus closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “He needs your help on Earth. I need your help. Please.”

  Isa spoke softly, his voice tighter than usual. “You know not what you ask. If you did, it would terrify you. It is not yet my time to travel the path Yohanan must now walk in Jerusalem. He must finish his part, for in his life and in his death, he is the voice in the wilderness.”

  Tomadus’s muscles tensed and his cheeks flushed. Again a man of words, not action, yet I keep following this hypocrite. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as they replayed the memory of Adin kneeling at his bed, praying for Isa and him. Peace. He said evenly, “Isa, I am very disappointed you feel this way. I am afraid I will have to resort to others for help.”

  “Do what you must, Tomadus, but be careful, for when you seek the aid of the wolf, you risk becoming his next meal.”

  Tomadus shook his head and hung up. Wolf? The First Consul has done nothing but help me. I can only hope… He placed a call to the First Consul, but was denied any access by his assistant.

  After three more calls over the next several days, the First Consul finally answered. “Tomadus,” he said, “you must have some big coleonum if you are calling me now. You promised Yohanan was on a mission of peace. They have demanded information on the Letter of Transit I issued. I have had to battle with the Governor there just to stop you from being arrested along with Yohanan.”

  “First Consul, thank you for keeping me out of this. For that I am grateful. I am very sorry for what has happened, but you must know that Yohanan is innocent!”

  “I know nothing of the sort. The Jerusalem authorities have told me that he leapt the barrier at the critical moment. They know he was a Demosep. They think this whole peace thing was just a new cover for him.”

  “But he is an agent of peace. He was trying to stop the bomb, not set it off,” Tomadus yelled.

  The First Consul sighed. “Then why would he have met secretly with the shaitaanist in a café the day before the attempt? Yes, I told you both that I would have him followed. They heard the two talking for some time there—plotting, they say.”

  Tomadus shook his head. “He was trying to persuade her to drop the plan. It was only when he failed to convince her that he went to the site and tried to foil the attempt itself. Why else would he yell, ‘Stop,’ just before she rushed Hugleikr?”

  “I have not heard anything about him yelling anything but encouragement. It sounded to me like he just attacked a couple security men. And when she died, he embraced her. How do you think that looks, Tomadus? He could have alerted the authorities.”

  Tomadus felt his muscles tighten as the blood rushed into them. “And be called a traitor by his own people and lose any chance of leading them back to peace? I vouched for the importance of his mission because he
was the only one who could stop it and keep any chance for real peace in Tetepe. I tell you, on my honor, First Consul, I was aware of his plan to thwart the assassination attempt. He was no part of it! He and I had guessed they would make an attempt, but we had no proof. He thought he could stop it, but he was framed by the real culprits here—Hugleikr and Raanan.”

  The First Consul paused for a few seconds. “Raanan? The Demosep leader?”

  “Yes,” Tomadus said. He tried to catch his breath, slow his heartbeat. He leveled his voice, “Raanan was released after a visit from Hugleikr’s chief of security. Raanan has been a traitor to the Demoseps all along and seems to be in league with Hugleikr.”

  The First Consul said nothing for quite awhile. “Those are strong accusations, Tomadus. You must be careful what you say. Let me consider your views further and see what I can do.”

  “That is all I can ask, First Consul. Gratias.” When the pod disconnected, Tomadus thought long about his friendship with the First Consul. The man wielded so much power, yet he had tried to help Tomadus whenever he could. The First Consul had rarely promised much, but he had often delivered. A true friend. Perhaps that was also where his true faith should lie.

  Chapter 63

  Tomadus felt the Jerusalem sun blasting down upon Muhammad Square. Sweat rolled down his brow as he closed his eyes and bit his upper lip. The top of the hour had passed without activity, but maybe this sentencing hearing was delayed for good reason. Perhaps the First Consul was still working his diplomatic magic. Although the Palestinian Provincial Governor’s Minister of Justice had already declared Yohanan guilty in a closed-door “trial,” there was always hope in the Sunni justice system right up until the very moment of sentencing by the Governor. Might the First Consul or one of his contacts in this empire be trying to convince the Governor to grant Yohanan leniency—or better yet, a pardon? At times like this, it helped to have friends in high places.

  Tomadus opened his eyes and smiled at Jochi, hoping to exude the optimism that might help her cope with this proceeding. She looked up at him sadly, gazing gently into his eyes. But her eyes grew big and then she gasped at the dreadful clatter of the traditional procession entering the square on the right. Three ancient wagons rolled in on wooden wheels, each pulled by four magnificent draft horses. The first two wagons looked like ornate personal carriages that belonged to the royalty of a few centuries past. The last wagon appeared plain and stark, adorned above its platform only by rusted steel bars. Inside the mobile prison cell sat four men, each naked but for a single strip of clothing around their privates, metallic bracelets locked around their wrists and ankles, and metal collars locked around their necks. The prisoners seemed drugged or near exhaustion.

  The first carriage arrived at the makeshift stage near the east end of the square. The door opened and a guard approached the door with an umbrella as a man dressed in a red robe with purple fringes emerged from the carriage. The Governor. Just as he reached the stage and came under the temporary canopy, the next carriage arrived and the same procedure was repeated, but this time with three guards and three dignitaries. The first dignitary wore a white robe and cap, his graying hair and beard trimmed neatly. The second dignitary wore a yarmulke above long, curly black hair that seemed to continue around to the hair hanging two feet below his chin. The last of the dignitaries was dressed in Romanus governmental robes. When the man glanced quickly back to the crowd, Tomadus swallowed hard. It was the First Consul.

  Now several guards approached the third wagon, carrying spears instead of rap rifles. They unlocked the door and forced the prisoners to the front of the stage. The prisoners followed orders to turn and kneel facing the stage, away from the audience, their backs revealing blood oozing out of fresh whip marks, slowly staining the tops of their little white strips of loincloth.

  The dignitaries displayed solemn expressions as they stood on a temporary stage, with the Dome of the Rock looming above and behind them. Tomadus now recognized the other two dignitaries as the Grand Imam and Abh Beyth Diyn of Jerusalem. The First Consul stood between them in a line just to the left and behind the Governor.

  The Governor stepped to the microphone and spoke, “You four men have been convicted of capital crimes against Allah within the Sunni Muslim Empire and await sentencing. In the tradition of our glorious empire, I have the power to condemn you to death, commute your sentence, or grant you a pardon. However, execution awaits each of you unless the interests of justice and mercy demand otherwise. I shall hear each of your pleas, one at a time. Stand and approach the microphone when I state your name. Do you understand?”

  The four men nodded their heads. The Governor announced the first name, “Rigoso of Andalus, you have been convicted of sodomy. What say you?” The prisoner on the far left stood up and approached the microphone, crying. “Please,” he begged, “I have reformed. I will never commit this awful abomination again. I have a wife and two children who need me. If not for me, then please take pity on them and save me.”

  The Governor responded quickly, “Rigoso of Andalus, this is not your first conviction. We have granted you leniency in the past. I take pity on your wife and children. They have been shamed by your unnatural lust, and so you must die.” When the prisoner fell to his knees and continued begging the Governor to change his mind, several guards came over and dragged him back to the holding area.

  This process was followed for two additional prisoners, but with mixed results. The second prisoner was recalcitrant and argumentative, and the Governor immediately condemned him to death. The third prisoner admitted his guilt for stealing a loaf of bread from the Imperial market and begged forgiveness from Allah. He said that it was his first conviction, and he had stolen the bread only to feed his little brother, who was dying from malnutrition in the slums of Jerusalem. The Governor hesitated and asked, “Are you not a Jew? Then why do you beg for forgiveness from Allah?” The man told him he had converted to Islam and now saw the error of his former ways. The Governor seemed satisfied by this and commuted his sentence to five years hard labor and one severed hand at its expiration.

  “Yohanan of Tetepe,” said the Governor, “you have been convicted of attempted murder, mayhem and rebellion in connection with the thwarted assassination of our good friend, Vice Regent Hugleikr. What say you?”

  As a bank of dark clouds covered the sun, Yohanan approached the microphone and looked up at the governor and then the other three men on the stage. His head remained turned toward the First Consul for a few seconds. Then he looked directly at the Governor. “Governor, I thank you for the opportunity to state my case before you and these people of Jerusalem. Others have begged for your forgiveness today, but I shall not do so, for I have done nothing in this empire that requires your forgiveness. I will ask for forgiveness, nonetheless, but not from you.”

  After a murmur rose from the crowd reacting to the prisoner’s apparent insolence, the Governor raised his hand, and silence ensued. He seemed about ready to say something, but the First Consul stepped forward and whispered in his ear before returning to the other dignitaries. The Governor nodded. “Continue.”

  Yohanan looked at the crowd. “Many of you may recognize me from a famous photograph in Tempus, a photo taken moments after my innocent parents were splintered and burned and mutilated when one of the Juteslam shells ordered by Vice Regent Hugleikr struck their tiny home in Tetepe. My sister, Jochi, appeared in that photo too, crying helplessly at the sight of her parents’ horrible death. She is here today as well, this time crying for fear of her brother’s execution.”

  Tomadus looked down at Jochi and saw her shaking uncontrollably as the tears streamed down her face. She gasped for breath. He held her tighter to his chest under his arm.

  Yohanan stared at the Governor. “That photo proved to be both a boon and a curse. For years it gave me instant credibility with the people of Tetepe. And no doubt I have survived the wrath of King Skjöldr and his Vice Regent for many a day simply because they
thought it too imprudent to make a martyr of the ‘Face of Tetepe.’

  “But it also became a curse when I allowed it to define me. In truth, I became more than the Face of Tetepe. I became the face of anger and hatred against all Juteslams. Worse yet, in a misguided attempt to honor and avenge my parents’ deaths, I chose to turn my life toward hatred and killing. Though some have called what I did shaitaanism, many Tetepians have called it heroic, and a few have even called it righteous. But I stand here today and call it by its proper name: murder. For just as surely as Hugleikr murdered my parents over ten years ago, I have murdered countless Juteslams since.”

  A collective gasp whooshed from the crowd. A few in the crowd yelled, “Murderer!” and “Execute him!”

  His eyes steely, Yohanan looked at the crowd and back to the platform. “I am guilty of no murders or attempts or any other crimes within these borders. No, despite these ridiculous charges, which you, Governor, know to be untrue, I tell you now, as I go to my death, I did not try to assist in the assassination attempt on Hugleikr. No, Governor, I tried to prevent it. But that is of little import anymore. For I stand before my maker today and lay myself bare.”

  Yohanan looked up to the sky, arms outstretched to the heavens. Lightning smacked a thunderclap across the sky and into the square, where it reverberated a few seconds. A steady rain began falling, causing a few in the crowd to seek shelter among the awnings of nearby buildings. The prepared few pulled out umbrellas, and some of their friends sought refuge with them. Tomadus pulled up the hood of his robe and tried to shelter Jochi from the rain with his outer cloak. She curled her head under his arm and made no attempt to flee. No storm could move either of them away from this spot—not now.

  After a few seconds, Yohanan bowed his head. “I would not be standing here if I had not met a most extraordinary man, Isa of Palestine. He saved me from myself. He helped me to see that my hatred led only to my self-destruction. He made me understand the beauty of love, peace, and forgiveness. I tell you, he is the one who was promised to us, the one who was promised to us all.”

 

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