The Making of the Lamb (13 page)

“Papa, can’t you see how Jesus suffers now?” exclaimed Daniel. “Is this not enough? Please, please let us take him from this place!”

Steeled to his purpose, Papa ignored Daniel’s entreaties. The day wore on, and the midday sun drained the victims of their remaining strength. Jesus grew calmer, but he was still pale. Tears welled in his eyes, but he still watched, continuing to draw shallow breaths.

Finally, the captain of the soldiers muttered, “No point in waiting through the night. They won’t survive it. End it now.”

Yes, better to end this bloody business and ensure the criminals are dead so all can leave.

One of the soldiers brought forward an axe. He swung it, breaking the legs of the condemned. Unable to support the weight of their chests, they quickly suffocated, drowning in their own blood and phlegm. The soldiers left with the crowd once they determined that the victims were truly dead, but they left the bodies to hang, as food for the crows and as a warning to all.

Now that it was over, Papa tried to lead Jesus away, but Jesus just stood there pale and transfixed, gazing at the bodies. Papa hefted Jesus over his shoulder and carried the boy down the hill. Jesus lost consciousness on the way.

Finally, they reached the inn, and Papa settled Jesus in his bed. He remained ghastly pale, though his body burned with fever. Both Daniel and his father stayed at Jesus’s side, draping his body with wet rags to cool his fever and offering up to God the most fervent of prayers.

Daniel could not bear to look at his father.

“What have I done?” Papa wailed, patting Jesus’s hand. “Curse my stupidity. But for his own good I had to make Jesus keep watching.”

At first, Daniel blamed his father, but he kept his silence. Daniel focused himself totally on his prayers for Jesus, occasionally running out to change the wet rags that cooled his cousin’s body. As the night wore on, his anger at his father gave way to compassion.

“Look, Papa, the fever diminishes. He seems to be resting more comfortably. Get some sleep. I will stay with him and wake you if he gets worse.”

“I’m so sorry, my son. I should have listened to you. I should have seen how the Romans’ cruelty was affecting him. I don’t know what I will say to Mary and Joseph if we lose him.”

“We won’t lose him, Papa. God watches over him. Maybe you did the right thing. Maybe Jesus had to see everything. Maybe that was God’s will, and you were his instrument.”

Papa embraced Daniel, and holding him tightly, he said, “I love you as no man has ever loved a son, and I have come to love Jesus, too. I cannot bear the thought of losing him now.”

“I know, Papa. I understand. Now get some rest.”

Daniel awoke late the next morning to find Jesus sleeping comfortably in the bed beside him. He touched his cousin’s forehead, and thankfully, it felt cool. His father was gone, probably about town preparing the next stage of their journey. Daniel got up and went to order food from the innkeeper, fish broth for Jesus and heartier fare for himself.

When Daniel returned to the room carrying a wooden platter, he found Jesus stirring—still pale and weak, but awake.

Daniel sat on the side of the bed. Jesus tried to say something, but too softly for Daniel to understand.

“Shhh! You had a terrible fever, and you’re still weak. Don’t try to talk. Just take some broth. It will help to restore your strength.” Daniel spooned broth to his cousin’s lips.

At first, Jesus was too weak even to swallow, but the broth gradually revived him. “What happened?” he asked. “The last thing I remember was watching the crucifixion. It seemed to be over. How did I get here?”

“You collapsed. Papa carried you from the hill, and then you came down with a terrible fever. Papa was afraid we were going to lose you, but I knew that God looks after you, Jesus. I knew he didn’t bring his son into the world just to lose him to a fever.”

Jesus smiled weakly and reached for his cousin’s hand. “I had a terrible dream. Well, it seems more than just a dream.” Jesus began to cry. “I’m scared, Daniel. For the first time in my life, I’m really scared. Hold me, please.”

Daniel hesitated. The notion of embracing his cousin felt awkward to him. But Jesus, sobbing, seemed to need the comfort of a human touch. So Daniel put down the broth, took Jesus in his arms, and cradled him like a baby. Time seemed to stand still. Daniel dampened a cloth and wiped the tears from Jesus’s face. “Would it help to tell me about this dream? What scared you so much?”

“It was more like a vision,” said Jesus. “I saw myself as a man, maybe thirty years old. I was back in Jerusalem, outside the city walls. Your father was there, and so was my mother. They looked older than they do now.” Jesus began to sob again, and once more Daniel cradled him in his arms.

“What was everyone doing in your dream?” Daniel asked.

Jesus gripped his cousin hard and whispered in his ear. “It was another crucifixion, but this time it was me. I was the victim condemned to death by the Romans. It was the most horrible thing imaginable. It was even worse than the crucifixion we have just seen. They mocked me. The Romans put up a sign on my cross that said ‘King of the Jews’, and they made me wear a crown of thorns. I even saw them casting lots for my garments.”

For a moment Daniel was paralyzed with fear, but then he collected his thoughts. “This is just a nightmare, Jesus. You were upset after watching yesterday’s crucifixion.”

“No, Daniel. I have seen a glimpse of my future, and I can still see it now. It’s more than a nightmare.”

“Oh, Jesus, be brave. I know that God did not bring you into this world just to die on a cross, but you still must recover your strength. Here, take some more broth, will you? Then get some more rest. I will sing from the Psalms of David as you go to sleep.”

“Yes, cousin. I will take some more broth now, and then hear the Psalms of David. I must turn to my Father for comfort.”

So after Daniel had fed the rest of the broth to Jesus, he took up the scroll Papa had left with them to study. For hours he sang, as Jesus awoke and then almost seemed to drift off to sleep. But each time Jesus seemed to have fallen asleep, his eyes sprang open again. Daniel began to feel as though Jesus was searching to hear the right verse before he would allow himself the luxury of rest.

As the skies darkened, Daniel came across the thirty-fourth psalm. It seemed to bear the testimony of one who narrowly escapes death, and it was among those attributed to David. Daniel looked at Jesus. Was he asleep? His eyes were closed, but Daniel could not be sure. Though he was weary, Daniel began to sing. “I will extol the Lord at all times; his praise will always be on my lips.” The psalm continued with praise for the Lord, and it told how the humble would be made glad and how the Lord heard the righteous and delivered them. Daniel continued toward the end of the psalm:

The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and his ears are attentive to their cry;

But the face of the Lord is against those who do evil, to blot out their name from the earth.

The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all;

He protects all his bones, not one of them will be broken.

Evil will slay the wicked; the foes of the righteous will be condemned.

The Lord will rescue—

Jesus sat up, looking animated. “Stop, that’s it!” he cried.

Daniel looked at his cousin, puzzled.

“Don’t you see? They will not break my bones, Daniel. It is not just the psalm. I remember it that way in my vision. I never saw the Romans break my bones. That is the last thing the Romans do to kill their victims. God will hear my cries and deliver me from the cross before they get the chance! Surely, my Father will do that just the way he delivered Daniel from the lions and Jonah from the whale. Oh…won’t it be glorious, Daniel? The Romans will see the power of my Father and the sight will strike them helpless with terror, just as Joshua’s enemies fled in terror from the ark. And then I shall lead the armies of the righteous and sweep away the tyrants from our shores and restore the house of David to its rightful throne!”

Daniel’s eyes filled with joyful tears as Jesus drifted off into a sound sleep. He remembered his vision of Jesus that day back in Nazareth, and the divine light he saw glowing within his cousin. Yes, it all made sense now. Jesus was the Son of God. He had to be the promised Messiah who was destined to lead the people of Israel to freedom.

Once again Daniel felt himself grow weak. He knelt humbly by the side of Jesus’s bed.

It was late in the evening before Papa returned to the inn. Daniel was waiting up for him, and the two of them went to the common room to get something to eat and talk where they would not disturb Jesus’s sleep.

“I saw Jesus was resting comfortably when I left this morning,” Papa began. “He seems to be even better now. I knew you would take good care of him.”

Daniel said nothing at first. Then he smiled. “Yes, Jesus is out of danger. Tell me of your preparations, and then I shall tell you more of Jesus. Do we have a boat to take us north up the River Arar?”

“We won’t need one,” Papa replied. “We will set out in a different direction. But let me start at the beginning. I was introduced today to a Greek merchant from Massilia. His name is Pirro. We have mutual friends in this city who trust both of us.

“Pirro has a valuable secret, but by himself he cannot exploit it. His family has suffered along with all the Greeks of Massilia. He has managed to eke out a meager living trading with the British Belgae for iron ore at Yengi. By himself, he cannot mount a proper trading expedition—he doesn’t have the money. So he needs us.”

“That’s fine. But what can he do for us?” Daniel asked.

“Ah. That is where his little secret comes in. Do you remember how I told you about the ancient tin route that the Greeks and Phoenicians before them followed to the lost island of Ictis to trade with the Dumnonii tribe directly? My grandfather told me the tale of how he traded with the Britons on the west side of that island, before Julius Caesar conquered the Gauls.”

“But isn’t that just legend, Papa?”

“No, son. Pirro has been there. He described Ictis perfectly, exactly as my grandfather described it to me. And he told me the Dumnonii are just as eager to avoid trading through the Belgae and Cantiaci as I am. You see? We will travel the ancient tin route and profit both the Dumnonii and ourselves. No longer will we be at the mercy of the Cantiaci who monopolize all the trade between Britain and Rome and who squeeze to the bone both miners and honest merchants such as me.”

“But doesn’t all trade in Britain have to go through the Cantiaci?”

“That is not a restriction imposed by Rome. They just hate to travel across open ocean, so they are willing to pay the price to cross the
Oceanus Britannicus
within sight of land. Under Roman law, I can conduct my trade anywhere. The Cantiaci won’t be gentle if they get their hands on us, and the crossing to Britain will be more hazardous where the ocean is wider—but those are the risks we take.”

“Have you concluded your deal with Pirro, Papa?”

“Yes. He will receive one-third of the profit from this expedition and show me the route. That should give him enough to fund his own expeditions in the future. If this works, there will be plenty of trade for both of us.”

“So where do we go from here?”

“We head west across the hills to the River Liger. The road will be steeper, but it is not far. Pirro and I have already hired oxen teams, and I have sent an agent ahead to hire a flat boat to take us downstream. We can buy our wine along the way.” Papa paused and finished the last piece of bread. “So, tell me more about what happened with Jesus.”

Daniel related Jesus’s vision to his father, and how the prophecy in the psalm, saying his bones would not be broken, had comforted Jesus.

Papa bowed his head and shook it sadly. “Oh, you foolish boys! Do you think the Romans always break the bones of such victims? They do that only to hasten death when it suits their purposes. Sometimes the victim is left to suffer on the cross for days, and dies with all his bones intact. Do you have that scroll of psalms with you?”

“Yes, Papa. Here it is.”

Papa turned to the twenty-second psalm, also composed by King David. He pointed out the middle verses to Daniel.

Dogs surround me, a pack of villains encircles me; they pierce my hands and my feet.

All my bones are on display; people stare and gloat over me.

They divide my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment.

But you, Lord, do not be far from me. You are my strength; come quickly to help me.

“Does this not set out the vision Jesus had of his crucifixion?”

Daniel silently nodded in the affirmative.

“There is nothing in this psalm that speaks of rescue from the brink of death. See this lament.”

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish?