When Jesus Wept - By Bodie Page 0,17

my old girl and trained by my own hand. She will wish to lay down beside you, sir, and sleep beside you on the trail. Just let her. Pleasant is warmth and comfort when a man travels far from home.”

Porthos climbed onto the donkey. His legs dangled awkwardly, and his feet nearly touched the ground. He clucked his tongue once, and Pleasant walked out smartly.

“Remember,” Samson called after him. “One cluck for walk. Two clucks for trot. And a long, smacky kiss for canter.”

Porthos raised his hand in thanks. “Never fear! I will dismount when traveling uphill,” he promised. Then he clucked his tongue twice, and Pleasant trotted away.

“Well,” Samson declared with finality, “a good and brave fellow indeed. Pleasant will be a good friend on his journey.”

Chapter 8

I’ve written Mary. And she’s answered me.” I held a papyrus up for Martha to see. “The name of the Roman centurion, her friend …”

“Her lover, you mean. Just say it without dancing around it!” Martha countered. “Our widowed sister, with her estate in the Galil, is a shame to our family.”

“Mary writes that the man’s name is Marcus Longinus. A centurion who has the respect of Pilate for his bravery in the wars.”

“What of it?”

“Mary says he is a man of great courage … with a keen sense of what is just.”

“That may be so, even for a Roman, but what do you think he can do for anyone?”

“I will ask him … ask if he will find the fate of Judah and his mother and sister. Perhaps he’ll help us. At least to know.”

“Have you no common sense? We’ve been warned to stop asking questions. Do you want to lose everything? They can take it all, you know. That is the lesson we are meant to learn from Judah ben Perez! And now you would go to a Roman centurion? David! There is nothing more you can do for them.” Martha turned her back on me and stomped out of the room. As was her way, she decided she would have the last word on the subject of Judah and his family.

So I let my sister have the last word. I was silent. I did not answer her.

Leaving the house that morning, I saddled my mare and rode out without an explanation to anyone. Martha was right. The arrest of Judah was meant to instill fear in all of us who had any wealth or position. The tactic had been effective.

I cantered up the road to the great city, remembering what Porthos and Patrick and Samson had said about courage.

I was afraid but rode out anyway. Though I had sent dozens of inquiries, I had not been to Jerusalem since my beating. Sights and sounds and smells so familiar to me since my childhood now made my stomach churn. At the sight of soldiers on the ramparts, memories clubbed out of my mind came rushing back.

I passed through the gate and rode by the marketplace, up a steep street, and over a causeway. Ahead of me was the Antonia Fortress; the center of Roman military power.

Perhaps I looked too fierce in my determination as I approached the sentries. “I come in search of—”

They brandished their weapons. “Get off your horse, Jewish dog. It is the law that you do not address a Roman sentry from a saddle.”

I opened my hands, showing I did not have a weapon, then stepped off my mare. Holding the reins, I allowed them to search me for a hidden dagger. The first was scrawny and the second built like a bull. Both were unwashed and foul smelling.

“He’s unarmed.” The big man wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “What’s your business here?”

I answered, “I am in search of Centurion Marcus Longinus.

He is a … friend … of my family.” The words nearly choked me, but for the sake of Judah I pretended.

“Centurion Longinus? A friend of a Jew?” mocked the thin fellow. “Well, everyone knows Longinus. Famous, he is. But he isn’t here. Out on patrol. Rounding up Jewish rebels and …” He drew his finger across his neck. “Still want to talk to him?”

“When will he return?” I asked. My mouth was dry.

“Weeks, it could be. If you’re a friend, why don’t you know?” the first soldier taunted.

The second soldier’s eyes narrowed as he sized me up and laughed. “Maybe you’re an assassin, eh? Sent to kill him.”

“No. You see I am unarmed. Marcus Longinus will not be pleased at the way