The Making of the Lamb (41 page)

“Need you ask, Father? Do you not know my heart already? But I would have you lay forth my destiny. Uncle Joseph seems to sense something forbidding in it that he does not share with me.”

“All in good time, my son. Your human nature must first gain strength and wisdom. This is a time of deeper testing for you. We will not talk again until you are ready.”

“I have so many questions, Father,” said Jesus. But in that moment he realized he was alone.

The wheels of the cart crunched on the ice as the druidess and her small entourage made their way to Pilton Hollow. She brought a caged dove—and two spare birds—to perform the augury reading.
I wonder why I take the trouble for this. The auguries will not change, and the town is doomed. The leprosy infects too many.
It was the first day of the New Moon, just three days from the gathering of the druids for Imbolc. Esmeralda allowed herself a smug smile.
Yes, Jesus is set to end his confinement in Pilton Hollow today, but he must have eaten from the hands of the lepers. All I need to do is inquire into that, read the auguries, and then declare him unclean along with the others. Not even Elsigar will dare to get near him once he hears.

The druidess stepped down from the cart, stopped at the town gate, and called for the people to bring forth Jesus. She waited patiently as the people gathered.
That is most strange. There do not seem so many this time. No matter. The badly infected must be too sick to come from their beds. I hate the sight of them anyway.

They brought Jesus before her.

“Have you consumed any food or drink brought to you from the hands of the townspeople?”

“Of course I have. You did not permit me to come to the gate and get my food from my mother. She had to give it to the townspeople, and they brought it to me.”

“I must read the auguries over you. These people are unclean, and now you may be unclean as well.”

“Do not perform your pagan rites over me!” said Jesus. “I am a child of the one true God, the God of my fathers. I do not brook with the worship of any other god.”

“Have it your way, Jesus. Stand aside as I read the auguries for the town. You will share in their fate, as the auguries portend.”

On her signal the attendant brought forth the dove. She slew it with one stroke of her knife and returned the carcass to the attendant.

It did not take long for him to separate the entrails and spread the meat upon the fire. He gazed upon them, and raised an eyebrow. He brought the entrails to Esmeralda. “The auguries are good,” he pronounced. “No corruption of the entrails at all!”

“Impossible,” the druidess shouted. She turned to the elder. “What magic have you allowed Jesus bar Joseph to perform?”

“There was no magic at all. He showed me how to examine the people for infection. We cast out those who were infected. It was a difficult thing to do, but Jesus said that was the only way to give the clean people a chance to live.”

Esmeralda’s finger quivered as she pointed toward Jesus. “You wicked sorcerer. You have cleansed the ritually unclean. There is no way to do that without magic. Elsigar shall hear of this!”

Elsigar traveled to Ynys Witrin alone, except for the company of his faithful horse. The countryside was shrouded in its wintry rest. In the last two days it had warmed just enough to melt most of the ice and snow, but the cold and damp caused dense fog to linger over the landscape, hiding the leafless trees in a dull, diffused shroud of white. He crossed the River Brue to Ynys Witrin over the Pomparles Bridge. Its name meant
perilous
: a well-deserved name, indeed. He could not see the path through the thick mist, which forced him to allow the horse to find his own way to the other side. He knew the Secret of the Lord, constructed by Jesus for his mother, lay to the left of his course from the bridge to the clearing at the foot of the Tor, but he passed it without spying it through the vapors.

The fire appeared as a dim light through the mist and guided him to the gathering. Not many were yet in attendance, since the festival would not commence for another day.

Imbolc was considered the least of the major festivals. It was not the time for the multitudes to awaken the earth at Beltane, nor time to set the earth to rest as they did at Samhain. Set in the middle of winter, it was not keyed to any major event in the agricultural cycle, such as the commencement of the harvest that the people celebrated at Lugnasad. Although it was open to all, Imbolc was mainly for the druids to gather among themselves, a sacred time for contemplation and purification.

A dozen druids and emissaries were gathered around the fire. “I have been too long on the road today,” said Elsigar. “The damp and the cold have chilled me to the core. The fire is such a comfort.” Its heat enveloped him, brushing the chill from his hands and nose, though his bones remained icy.

“We are honored as always to have you, Elsigar.” Esmeralda lifted back the gray woolen hood to reveal her face and flowing locks of golden hair. “I am glad our fire warms you, although I fear its power to purify our spirit is diminished this year.”

“How can that be, sister?”
She has something dark to say.
“The flame of Imbolc has always purified the souls of those who partake in the feast—although I see that fewer of the people come every year. Would that more of the people knew of the power of purification from this flame.” The wood crackled. The smoke stung his eyes, but the warmth was worth the discomfort.

“Not even the sacred fire can purify the souls of the impious, Elsigar. You have allowed an outlander to stay in this land, and we have suffered him to live in this precinct for almost a year. I know he practices a black and forbidden magic. He defiles the laws. Not even the fires of Imbolc will purify us in a season as foul as that which comes now at your hands.”

“When Jesus came to Carn Roz as a boy, I too suspected he practiced magic,” said Elsigar. “My council and I questioned him closely. Although he was the focus of many wondrous things, we found that he practiced no magical art of his own. I have come to know him well as he has grown in stature and mind. I am not surprised he would do things ever more wondrous—things that a druid might take to be the fruit of forbidden magic. But if he is the same young man, you are undoubtedly mistaken.”

“I think not.” Esmeralda related how she had confined Jesus to live among the lepers and how the auguries for Pilton Hollow mysteriously improved. “The elder of the village said Jesus instructed them in following the laws of his God. Jesus did not deny it. He healed this incurable disease by calling upon the powers of a god unknown to the druids. Surely that must be the practice of some dark magic.”

“I will look into this.”

“Do you still intend to invite him to Ynys Môn? What about his taking up arms in this precinct?”

“Jesus was only defending his home,” protested Grengan.

“That was impious, but understandable.” Elsigar turned to Esmeralda. “Confining him to live with lepers was cruel, but that now is over. As for the invitation to Ynys Môn, I do not know if he will even come tomorrow. He said at Samhain that he might, but maybe he will not. I will say nothing more until I speak to him.”

The next day’s dawn brought a change in the weather. The mist lifted and burned away early in the morning. Frozen dew clung to branches and twigs, creating an arbor of crystals high in the trees that lasted until the sun melted it. The summit of the Tor emerged into the bright sunlight.

Elsigar searched the faces of the new arrivals, mostly local people but also emissaries.
There will be more than a hundred, but they will not come in thousands as they do for the other festivals.
Then he spotted Jesus approaching. No longer a skinny boy, this was a stalwart young man with finely muscled arms and shoulders.

“Shalom. Peace be with you,” Jesus said to him. “I pray your journey was not too hard.”

“It was too damp and cold, but druids learn to abide the pains of travel as we carry our ministry far and wide across the land. We have some time before the festival starts. We should talk.”

Jesus nodded.

“When I was here at Samhain you told a story of how Elisha used the waters of the Jordan River to heal a gentile of his leprosy. I hear you helped the elders in Pilton Hollow rid that village of its curse.”

“I simply helped them deal with lepers under the laws of God.” Jesus explained to Elsigar about separating the clean from the unclean, and how he had worked with them while he was in Pilton Hollow.

“This is set out in the laws of your god?”

“Yes, it is in the book called Leviticus.”

“Did you use water?”

“Just to wash my hands when I was done. It was nothing like what Elisha did.”

“Did you call upon your god?”

“I prayed to him, for the people. I prayed he would make them well.”

“Did you use any spells or incantations?”

“Only a lot of prayers.”

Elsigar closed his eyes and retreated to his own thoughts.
There is no guile in him. But he still admits that he teaches the people the laws of an unknown god.
Opening his eyes, Elsigar saw that Jesus was eating a crisp apple.

“Apple trees grow near my mother’s house,” said Jesus. “We used to gather many and put them away to last the winter. I love the way they grow all around Ynys Witrin. Here, I brought some more.” He reached into his bag. “Have one.”

“Thank you.” The fruit was indeed delicious.
Can he know that for the druids, apples symbolize knowledge and wisdom?

“Sometimes I wonder,” said Jesus, “why this island is called Ynys Witrin?”

Elsigar shrugged, dumbfounded. “‘Ynys’ means ‘island,’ of course. And ‘Witrin’? Well, what else would it be called?”

“I would call it Ynys Avalon.”

“Avalon, indeed!” Elsigar savored another bite of his apple. Ynys Avalon—
the island of apples
—how fitting!
Apples, wisdom, and the Tor—how they all fit together.

Elsigar took his turn through the afternoon leading the purification rituals, but most of the day he spent in silent contemplation. He looked over to Jesus from time to time, expecting him to be bored, but Jesus seemed to be enjoying his own quiet meditation. The more Elsigar contemplated how fascinated Jesus seemed by the apples, the more he realized he knew the answer to give to Esmeralda.
With Jesus, it is all about knowledge. He yearns to learn. He uses what he learns. That is how he rid Pilton Hollow of the leprosy. People have always feared such places because they fear to be infected. The law of his god is only common sense. When you cast out the unclean you save the clean. There is no magic in it.

The festival concluded with the setting of the sun behind the Tor. Elsigar invited Jesus to come and study with the novices at Bangor and Ynys Môn. He wasn’t surprised that Jesus accepted. What surprised him was that Jesus seemed to expect the invitation.

J
oseph looked out over the choppy water as the ship approached the entrance of the Fal. Deep in thought, he did not hear Kendrick approach from behind. He flinched as the captain laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You have said hardly anything for the last five days, my friend,” the captain observed. “Not since we left Lake Village, not even when we were caught in those doldrums. Usually, you’re grabbing my ear constantly to get the ship moving. You are not yourself.”

“I’m saddened, leaving Mary and the boys behind,” said Joseph. “I meant what I said. I am not going back. So I may never see them again.”

“I know you well enough to take you at your word, Joseph. I just will never understand why. All of us are doing so well.”

“I will send you back from Armorica with money and supplies for the boys. You can carry on with them if you wish.”
I cannot tell him of the path that leads Jesus to his horrible death on the cross.
“All I can say is that Jesus is on a dangerous path, and I cannot help him continue. I cannot stop him from remaining in Britain, but neither can I help him.”

“It was impetuous for him to take off after the robbers, but he was defending Mary’s home. The people would never have allowed the druidess to execute him for that. She only banished him for a few weeks.”

Joseph smiled; then he became serious again. “It is not the Celts that I fear.”

“If you really need to be away from Jesus, why not continue working from Carn Roz and leave the boys in Ynys Witrin? Without you, the tin operation will fall apart. I cannot keep it going, but I could buy the refined tin from you every season and take it to Armorica to sell.”

“I would need the maps Jesus made showing the ore deposits. He would be entitled to his portion of the profits I make here, so I would still be helping him stay in Britain.”

“That would only be the case if he knew.”

“Are you suggesting that I cheat Jesus out of his share? He’s my own great-nephew!”

“Set his share of the profits aside, and give it to him when he returns to his homeland. If you did not stay, he would not get anything more from his discoveries, so it isn’t as if you are taking anything from him. He is better off getting his share when he leaves Britain than not at all.”

“I need to think about this.”
Perhaps Kendrick is right. Jesus always said he trusted me to hold his share of the profits, and he has never asked for an accounting. Perhaps I should make everything I can here in Carn Roz and put aside a good profit for the boys.

The wind was light, and it took most of the afternoon for Kendrick to work the ship up to Carn Roz. The tide was in, so he was able to land alongside the stepping stone on the edge of the tidal pool. Many of the villagers paused from their work to wave, and the urchins came out in force to greet them.

Joseph waved to Bannoch and looked over the village. They had three smelting furnaces now, and all were putting out smoke.
With the fields fallow for the winter, the smelter provides employment for the men. Maybe if I stay here we can get another furnace going in the mouth of the Plym. It would give easy access to the ore fields along the Tamar. Yes, Kendrick is right; there is more money to be made here, and the boys will be better off for it.