The Silver Chalice (73 page)

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Authors: Thomas B. Costain

Tags: #Classics, #Religion, #Adult, #Fiction, #Literary, #Historical

BOOK: The Silver Chalice
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1

D
ESTROY IT
!” ordered Selech the Great with an urgency in his voice that came close to panic. “Throw every morsel of the pastry down the drains. Chop up the wooden base and burn it. There must not be a trace of this cage left. And no one here is to have any clear idea as to how or when it was brought back. Now, where is the young man?”

One of the four slaves, in a thick accent that marked him as coming from the country at the foot of the boot, answered, “In the spicery, O Selech.”

Basil was sitting on a bag of salt when the head cook entered the low-vaulted room where the spices were stored. There were bins on all sides containing cummin and sassafras and marjoram and galingale, and the air was filled with the pleasant odors of rosemary and rue and thyme. He looked pale and unhappy.

Selech observed the pallor and the unhappiness, but he saw no trace of fear. This was surprising, for he himself was deeply perturbed, and the four slaves who had carried out the cage were in a state of understandable palpitation.

“We cannot let them get their hands on you,” said Selech. “It is tragedy enough that our little Juli-Juli had run foul of the Emperor’s madness.”

“What will happen to her?”

“What happens when a baby lamb is caught in the folds of a python?” Selech made a despairing gesture. “We must get you out of here, but my wits are not equal to seeing how it is to be done. It is certain that Tigellinus will have the guards on the alert. They are already patrolling the top of the wall with lanterns, I am sure.”

“There is a hole under the wall,” said Basil. “I know where it is. But where could I go then?”

Selech thought for a moment and then turned to Demetrius, who had accompanied him.

“Elishama ben Sheshbazzar?” he said in a questioning tone. “Elishama’s house is close to the wall under the hill. Do you think we could ask such a dangerous favor of him?”

Demetrius bit his nails in an agony of indecision. “The dealer in gems? We would be asking him to risk his life, the lives of his family, his fortune, everything. And his fortune is a very large one, you must remember.”

“Elishama is one of the most devout of Christians,” declared Selech. “I think we must try him. But, Demetrius, go with the young man. Go in first to Elishama, leaving the young man outside. Tell him everything. If the dealer in gems says no, we will try someone else. But I think he will say yes. He is gentle and a man of peace, but as brave as a lion down deep in his heart.”

Selech then addressed Basil in a worried tone. “Much depends on your ability to keep out of their clutches. Walk in discretion, my young friend, and take heed in everything you do. The lives of many people hang in the balance tonight.”

Basil had found himself little concerned over the problem with which the two officers of Nero’s household were struggling. His personal safety seemed a small matter. Above all the thoughts that filled his mind and the emotions they engendered was a sense of relief and joy. He had emerged from the valley of indecision. It had needed a crisis, a threat, to bring him to realization of the fullness of his faith. His mind was now so clear that it seemed to him like a room into which sunshine poured and through which comforting breezes blew; no dark corners, no forbidding shadows, nothing but light and happiness and this new security of the spirit.

Selech looked at him with a nod of approval. “You do not seem to have any fear. That is a very good sign.”

“I am filled with fears!” exclaimed Basil. “There is Juli-Juli. What will they do with her? Can we not help her? Would Nero let her go free if I offered myself instead?”

“No,” answered Selech with decision. “That would be a useless gesture. The Emperor would send you down to stand beside her in the bracelets and to face the questioning later.

“I am not afraid for myself,” said Basil. This was quite true. Since taking his stand openly, the prospect of being punished for what he believed held no dread for him. “But I am possessed of a desire not to die now. If I do, my wife will never know how much I love her.”

A puzzled look came over Selech’s face, so Basil saw that further explanation was necessary. “There were circumstances that sealed my lips,” he said. “And I did not realize how truly and deeply I love her until I came to Rome. Now I am filled with my devotion and I do not want to die before I can tell her how blind I was and how wide my eyes have been opened.”

“I am sure,” said Selech, “that the Lord will lead you back to her. I wish I could be as sure that all the Christians who live under Nero’s roof have as good a chance of escaping his wrath.” He turned to his assistant. “You must start, Demetrius. Go out through the vaults. Take the shaded paths where the light of the moon does not reach. And do not forget my instructions when you come to the house of Elishama ben Sheshbazzar.”

2

After crawling through the hole under the wall and discovering that it was filled with living things that slithered away from them, Basil and Demetrius came down to the house of Elishama ben Sheshbazzar, which hugged the base of the Palatine Hill. The grade was so steep at this point that they seemed to stand directly above the tall home of the gem merchant. With one false step they would land directly on its flat rooftop. They were much disturbed by the lights that gleamed from every window, for this meant that the establishment was astir and more than normally active for the hour.

When they reached the level of the street below, Demetrius stopped and shook his head. “It must be filled with people,” he muttered. “Elishama will not be able to take you in. Still, I shall go in as Selech ordered. Stay until I return and stand back in the shadows. Make no noise. We may be preparing a place in the Mamertine for ourselves, you and I.”

He was gone so long that Basil became convinced he did not intend to come back. This visit to the house of the gem merchant was no more than an easy way of taking leave. Perhaps Selech had wanted to get him off his hands as quickly and easily as possible and so had sent him out with
Demetrius with instructions that he was to be left to his own resources. Well, he was free of the palace, at any rate, and that was a first stride to freedom.

But how could he now proceed? What method was open to him for making his escape from the city? The harbor would be closely watched, and he dared not show himself there. It would be equally impossible to get away by land when he had no knowledge of the country, of the people or the language. It became clear to him as he stood in the shadow of a clump of eucalyptus trees that his position was a hopeless one. He could not turn back. The inn of Old Hannibal would be closely watched. He would not dare show himself in the anteroom of Kester of Zanthus. Instead of waiting to be captured, would it not be better to return to the palace and yield himself up to the wrath of Nero?

He was still debating the point when the lights of the house began to go out, one at a time, until the place was in darkness. A few moments later he heard a step approaching.

“Where are you?” whispered Demetrius.

“I am here.”

The food buyer came up beside him and said in a relieved tone that they were to go in. “Elishama agreed at once,” he said, “but it took some time to get everyone out of the way. The road is clear now. I will take you in and then I shall have to leave. I still have work to do before I go to visit the markets.”

“You have risked a great deal for me,” said Basil gratefully. “Everyone has been most unselfish, you and Selech and those four carriers who got me out of the banqueting hall.”

“Repay us by not letting them catch you,” whispered Demetrius. “I will be frank with you. We want nothing so much as to have you vanish. After all, we have our own skins to think of.”

They entered the house by a rear door. Basil could not see anything and he followed his companion with arms outstretched in the dark. From the sound they made, he concluded they were in a large hall, and this was confirmed when a light burst suddenly out of the darkness some distance from them. A lamp had been lighted, and back of it Basil saw the head and shoulders of a man; a magnificent old man with flowing white hair and beard, a noble brow, and a pair of eyes filled with kindness and resolution. The lamp cast so small a light that it was as though a window had been opened and the head of the old man was on the outside looking in at them. Basil felt an immediate relief, for it was plain to be
seen that this face, which seemed divorced from its body, was filled with compassion as well as courage.

“I am Elishama ben Sheshbazzar,” said the owner of the house when they had come close to him. His voice was as warm and friendly as his eyes. He looked straight at Basil then and said, “Christ has risen.”

The young sculptor felt a wave of pride as his lips formed the customary response. He had a right to use it now, for he believed in Jesus and had declared himself openly. By so doing he had thrown away all chance for reward at court and had placed his life in jeopardy. At last he belonged.

“He sits at the right hand of God,” he said.

The words brought a sympathetic smile into the eyes back of the lamp, and Basil felt that a bond had been established. He said to himself, “Wherever I go, I find myself needing the help of unselfish men like this; but I have done nothing to deserve it.”

“Follow me,” whispered the gem merchant. “It will be wise, young stranger, to step lightly, for I do not want the sound of a new foot to be heard in the house. My people are not yet settled down for the night.”

“I can do nothing more,” said Demetrius at this point. There was an unmistakable note of relief in his voice. “And so I shall bid you good night and farewell.”

Before any response could be made he turned from them and they could hear him stepping with great care to the door at the rear. Basil heard him go with regret. Another friend had come briefly into his life, had helped him, and now had departed.

The owner of the house led the way then into a room off the hall and closed the door after them. The lamp gave enough light for Basil to conclude that it was here the gem merchant conducted his affairs, although no stock was in sight; a spare room of no particular size, with cabinets on all sides, a table that served as a desk, and two chairs. His eyes fastened at once on a replica of the Temple that stood on the table. It was probably two feet high and made solidly of gold and burnished to such a degree that it shone richly in the small light cast upon it.

“Sit down,” said the merchant.

He placed the lamp he was carrying on the table and from it drew a light, which he applied to the wick of a much larger one. The room sprang into new life then, and Basil could see that his host was tall and with the stoop of advanced years in his back. He was gentle, but it was clear he was also proud. There was compassion in his face, but an alert intelligence as well. A robe of immaculate white linen formed the base of
his costume, and over it he wore an outer tunic of an amethyst shade that was magnificently embroidered and embellished. He wore a black skullcap, and around his neck there was a gold chain that was long enough to stretch from one end of the room to the other. A large carbuncle glittered on one of his fingers.

“I offer my regrets for the circumstances under which it is necessary to welcome you into my house,” said Elishama ben Sheshbazzar. “My helpers were all at work when Demetrius came to me. The house servants had not finished their labors for the day. My wife, who is in delicate health and must not be subjected to any disturbance or alarm, had not retired for the night. All my people are Christians and, I believe, completely dependable, but it must be as clear to you as it is to me that the fewer who know of your presence in the house, the less chance there will be of mistakes or slips; and so a better chance of helping you out of your difficulties. I shall endeavor to confine all knowledge of you to one servant and myself. Not even my wife is to know, or my fine sons, of whom I have three.”

He had seated himself at the table, and his arms in their ample amethyst sleeves rested on its top. Although he was watching his guest, the model of the Temple was always in his line of vision.

“The report I have had from my good friend Demetrius is very disturbing,” he said gravely. “There will be much suffering because of the wild charges this woman has made. But it is clear that you behaved with great courage. Men do this when the fire of conviction burns warmly in their hearts, but I never get over my wonder when I encounter evidences of it. Ah well, ah well, there is in each of us a little of our Lord in heaven. More in some than in others.” His eyes had been glowing warmly, but at this point they lost their fine content and became apprehensive. “Yes, my young friend, trouble and fear hang over the palace of Nero tonight like a black cloud. Everything she said, this wicked siren who parades herself on the public platforms with Simon, is false. There has been no conspiring. But because of her evil inventions there is danger that all of our people will be driven from their posts. The Emperor may treat them far worse than that.”

“Let us pray that no great harm will come to Juli-Juli,” said Basil fervently. “I did no more than follow her brave example tonight, but she was not as lucky as I. It weighs bitterly on me that I made my escape in the cage in which she had been carried into the hall and in which she was to have left.”

“It is asking much, I am afraid.” A look of the deepest gravity took possession of the noble countenance of Elishama ben Sheshbazzar. “The wrath of Nero will not spend itself at once. There will be some victims. She may be the first.”

“Is there no way of getting her free?”

“Nothing short of a palace revolution would do it.” The old merchant sighed deeply and glanced down at his hands, which were lying on the table in front of him. They were remarkable hands, delicately shaped, the fingers long and tapered and sensitive. After indulging in a moment of concentrated thought he looked up again. “The Jews who live in the Diaspora have much to contend with. We must endure the envy that our successes bring us, and a dislike because we are the chosen of the one living God. These feelings seem to have grown deeper since the coming of Jesus, Who was of the seed of David and Whose gentle teachings are too new and strange for them. And”—he reached out to touch a reverent finger briefly to the golden replica—“we live with a longing that burns in our hearts for the sight so dear to all the children of Israel, the sun glistening on that great roof of gold under which—under which the spirit of God comes to commune with His people.” He looked up then. “I say this because so many of the servants at the palace, on whom the wrath of Nero may fall, are Jews who have seen the light and believe in the teachings of God’s only begotten Son.”

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