The Making of the Lamb (10 page)

“That’s how Papa makes his fortune. Everyone he deals with knows he can be trusted. That’s why they made him a citizen and then a
noblis decurio
,” said Daniel. “I was watching you earlier. You act as if you have been a Roman accustomed to this luxury all your life. Aren’t you impressed at all with the marvels the Romans created?”

“All I see are the graven images of false gods and the fruits of oppression.”

Daniel signaled to Jesus to mind his tongue. He had no idea what the slave might report to his master if he understood their Aramaic. He judged the youth to be about three years his senior.

Jesus suddenly commanded the slave in Latin to draw the bath water in the room next door. The two of them were now truly alone for a few minutes.

“You seem to be born to this life, Jesus,” Daniel said. “You commanded that slave as if you were born true Roman.”

“Hardly. I just wanted to get rid of him and get in the bath. Don’t forget that our hosts are the Romans who rule our lands and use us, Daniel. Proud as they are, we should learn their weaknesses so that one day we can free our people. Look over there. Instead of painting a picture, framing it and hanging it on a wall, they painted the frame on the wall and then painted the picture inside. They seem to be afraid a guest might steal a real framed painting off the wall.”

“Actually, I think they do it that way so that the host is not embarrassed into giving paintings away when their guests praise them.”

Jesus laughed. “Don’t you see, cousin? These people are weak. Yes, they have great wealth and they have their legions, but they have no strength of character. Septurius cannot stand up and say that he needs to conduct an honest trade, so he does it in secret. They cannot be seen to appear ungenerous to their guests, so they actually paint their pictures on the wall to make sure that making a gift of them is not an option. There is no great Roman civic virtue. Everything is only about maintaining appearances.”

Daniel looked at his young cousin, a thin waif undressing for the bath.
I cannot believe how perceptive he is, and only thirteen.
Jesus hardly looked the part of the military leader who was destined to smash the legions of Rome, but then Daniel thought of the heavenly light he saw within Jesus back in Nazareth. He lowered his voice. “Are you the Messiah who will free our people?”

“I don’t really know what work God has for me. I am just a boy,” Jesus replied. “I pray for guidance every day. The only thing I know for sure is what my mother told me of how I was miraculously conceived. I do hear and feel things that I cannot begin to explain. Certainly, I want to save the nation of Israel and free our people, and…” his voice quavered. “I always see myself in the prophecies of the savior. It is a vision that stays in my head. I wish I understood more. I feel in my heart that God has chosen me as his instrument, but sometimes I feel struck by madness. I just pray that God will give me the wisdom to know his will and strength to do it; I must not fail him.”

“But there is nothing God cannot accomplish through you,” Daniel responded earnestly. “Think of how he used David as a child to slay the mighty Goliath with a single slingshot.”

Jesus paused before he spoke again. “I feel more connected with you right now, Daniel, than I have ever felt with anyone. Some of what I confided in you I haven’t even told my mother. I don’t think I have ever put my feelings into words quite like this, even in my own head.”

They looked at each other in silence. As if in a trance, Daniel recalled the vision he had seen back in Nazareth, of Jesus with the divine light shining within him. Daniel felt Jesus reach out and touch him. The gentle touch moved Daniel with great power and brought him back to the present in Arelate. He felt as if he were sharing some small portion of a great load bearing down upon his cousin.

After dinner, Jesus excused himself to examine the library. There were many scrolls in Greek and Latin neatly arranged on the shelves, but one was displayed prominently on its own stand. He opened it and started to read. It was a copy of Julius Caesar’s account of the Gallic wars. Jesus skipped over the details of the battles and focused on what Caesar had to say about the Gauls themselves.

The religious leaders were the druids. According to Caesar, the religion originated in Britain, and from there it had spread to Gaul. But Caesar had thoroughly suppressed the druids throughout Gaul, so Jesus was unlikely to encounter any until he reached their home island.

Jesus unrolled a bit more of the scroll, read more, and was shocked at what Caesar had to say about the druids’ religious practices. According to him, they conducted human sacrifices. In one passage, Caesar described how the druids secured their victims inside a giant man-like figure fashioned out of wicker and then set the structure ablaze.

They must be truly pagans, and he wondered why his uncle would take him among such barbarians. Then he recalled how the more refined Romans could be just as cruel in the gladiator fights and other forms of entertainment that featured slow and cruel death. Jesus wondered whether the druids or the Romans were the more barbaric.

Jesus looked up and saw Longinus standing in the doorway. “What are you doing with that miserable old scroll? Do you read Latin as well as speak it?”

“Yes.”

Longinus snorted. “And you speak Greek, too. Figures. I bet you’re just trying to butter up your parents. Show off.”

“I can read Greek, too, but buttering up my parents is hard right now. They are more than a thousand miles away, back home.”

“I meant the old guy. I only understood a little of what he was talking about in Greek with Father. Is he your uncle, then?”

“My mother’s uncle, actually. But I think he is going to be too busy while we’re here. I don’t think he’s going to have time to listen to my showing off, as you put it.” Jesus returned the scroll to its stand.

“Just don’t do it in front of my parents. It makes me look bad. I hate it when guys from school try to show what they learned. Father ends up lecturing me. ‘Why can’t I tend to my studies like Claudius, blah blah.’ It makes me so mad. I end up hurting them bad during wrestling, but I always make it look like an accident.”

“I will keep that in mind. I’m just wondering—”

“What?”

“Have you thought about trying to study? You might learn something useful.”

“Not from those stupid old scrolls. I’m going to be joining the legions when I get older, just like my brother. Anyway, it’s time for bed.”

Longinus felt out of sorts waking up to his little vacation, even though the arrival of the guests had given him a wonderful excuse to avoid his tutor. Father had said he was to entertain these itinerant provincials while the old Jew went about the marketplace. Citizen or not, a native of a conquered province still was not a true Roman. He had heard talk among respected citizens in Arelate; the Jews were a troublesome, complaining, rebellious lot who failed to honor the Roman gods. Longinus could not understand why his father not only treated the guests as his equals but also insisted that Longinus must do the same. That hurt his pride.

As he dressed, a thought crossed Longinus’s mind, and finally brought a smile to his face.
Why not send the legions into that land to suppress the troublemakers? If these Jews were such a bother to Rome, that would settle it once and for all.
Longinus imagined a newly enslaved Daniel begging for mercy. Longinus smirked as he recalled the way the younger boy had arrived. Longinus had not understood everything said the night before between the adults speaking Greek, but he had been able to catch on that a member of Joseph’s family had been mistaken for a servant boy or a slave because of his rags. He found that quite amusing.
I can recognize a beggar when I see one. It might be fun to enslave the young beggar, too, and keep him in his filthy rags to run and fetch on command.

Longinus approached the small dining room. His parents had started breakfast already with Daniel and Jesus.

“I enjoyed reading Caesar’s description of the native Gauls, particularly the druids,” said Jesus. “Oh, good morning, Longinus.”

Septurius turned to his son. “You should really take a cue from Jesus here. It’s amazing how much he picked up the last night from Caesar’s annals, and his Greek is perfect, too.”

“But, Father, Greek is so hard—”

“Perhaps a druid teacher might work out better for you, Longinus,” said Jesus. “They don’t write anything down. The students just memorize everything they say.”

Longinus felt his face turning red as his father broke out in laughter. Just then, the old Jew walked in, took his seat, and engaged Longinus’s parents in a conversation about the marketplace. Daniel was listening, which gave Longinus his chance to scowl at Jesus.
What’s with that sneaky beggar? He must know I am going to find a way to hurt him, but he just smiles back.

The three boys were soon left to their own devices in the villa. The old Jew left right after breakfast for his business in the market. Father left in the middle of the morning to judge a lawsuit. Mother stayed busy with her attendants having her hair done and getting dressed through most of the morning, but she was off in her litter by midday, carried by several slaves to pay social calls. Early in the afternoon, the three boys engaged in some foot races around the peristyle garden. Longinus did not mind losing to Daniel that much, since he was the oldest and strongest. But the shame of losing to the frail younger boy irked him. No matter how he tried to tease and antagonize him, Jesus took it in fun.

Longinus got an idea as he recovered his breath. “Do you guys want to go outside? It’s pretty safe as long as we take a slave to guard us in the street.”

“Sure, why not,” Daniel agreed. “You coming too?”

Still recovering his breath, Jesus nodded yes.

Longinus suggested to Daniel that the two of them change into tunics, just as Jesus was wearing already. Longinus knew which slave he wanted to take with him. He picked out a strong young man of eighteen, but Longinus did not pick him for his strength and ability to defend them in an attack. The young man had been given to him on his fourteenth birthday, and the slave knew that Longinus could have him whipped severely at any time. He could be counted on to back up any story Longinus gave his parents.

The cursory tour of the forum and the circus went quickly, and then Longinus led the group out through the city gates and down a path toward the river. He stopped at a patch of meadow in the middle of a clearing. “The ground is level and covered with grass here. It’s a great place to wrestle. What do you say?”

“Sure,” said Daniel. “Sounds like fun.”

Both Longinus and Daniel knew a crude form of wrestling that featured strength moves. Although Daniel was older by a year, Longinus was a bit heavier. Daniel had the height advantage. The two wore each other down to the point of exhaustion with neither gaining a clear advantage. Jesus stood aside, cheering on the best moves that each of them made.

It took some time, but Longinus finally found himself on his back, pinned. He clenched his fists in frustration. He did not care about losing to the older boy. That loss was not important to him. With the match over, Daniel was giving no sign of leaving him alone with Jesus and the slave boy.

“Here, get up, Longinus.” Daniel extended his hand.

Longinus noticed Jesus smiling.
I wonder if that beggar even realizes what I plan to do. Surely, he cannot think I just forgot about the way he showed off and embarrassed me in front of Father this morning. I warned him, but he did it anyway.

“I have to take a leak,” said Daniel. “Be right back.”

Longinus watched as Daniel concealed himself in some bushes. It was far enough to take time for Daniel to run back. Jesus looked distracted by something, but Longinus did not care what it was. He already had his story worked out, that Jesus begged him for a chance to wrestle, too. He would say that he thought he was going easy on the smaller boy, not meaning to hurt him at all. He took his opportunity and charged.

The next thing Longinus knew, he was flat on his back. His backside throbbed in pain.

“Are you all right?” Jesus stood over him. “Awesome move! Is that Roman-style wrestling, to come at your opponent when he isn’t looking? I like it; it keeps you on your toes.”

Daniel came running up. “What’s going on?”

“Longinus and I wanted to wrestle, too. I hope you don’t mind. I thought the two of you were done.”

“He could have killed you. He’s twice your size.”

“Not really. Some Greek kids back on Cyprus showed me how to handle a bigger guy coming at you. You brace yourself and use the force of his power against him. They called it throwing your opponent.” Jesus extended his hand to Longinus. “That was great; shall we have another go?”

Longinus shook his head no, as Jesus helped him to his feet. He glanced at the slave who had seen everything; he was hiding the lower portion of his face with his hand, but Longinus knew he was trying to conceal his laughter.
He will pay dearly for that later, and so will Jesus.

In the afternoon of the next day, the boys again had the house to themselves. In the morning, Longinus had led the cousins through the rooms, pointing out the religious themes in the statues, frescoes, and mosaics. Mainly, he wove the tales that glorified Rome and its gods. Then they had exhausted themselves with more races around the garden. Longinus then had the idea of taking lunch in the
triclinium
room off the atrium. They would have massages at the same time. Daniel wondered if it was a good idea for them to use this important room; it was where the Romans feasted their guests, and they were all hot and sweaty.

“Don’t worry about smelling up the room or leaving a mess,” said Longinus. “Everyone is gone but us, so there are plenty of slaves to clean up before Father or Mother return.”

Daniel had to admit that he felt grand reclining on one of the three immense couches. One slave began serving him lunch while another began working his shoulders. The room was magnificent. The wall fresco featured an image of a god racing across the sky in his chariot, and Daniel’s thoughts returned to the earlier tour among the deities depicted in statues, mosaics, and frescoes. “You have so many gods,” he said to Longinus. “That’s Apollo, isn’t it? How do you keep track of them all?”