Jesus Triumphant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 8) (13 page)

Raguel, Saraqael and Remiel had Asherah in position to bind her and plunge her into the crevice that lead to the Abyss below.

Out by the causeway, a horn blew, alerting the Tyrians of the impending deluge about to hit their walls. Jesus and Simon ran back up the stairs and headed for the gate that was already almost closed.

The tsunami hit the small island and blanketed the surrounding buildings with tons of crushing seawater. The main island’s walls held firm against the tide. The inhabitants within remained safe.

Jesus and Simon did not make it back to the gate in time. They were locked out on the causeway bridge, thirty feet above the water, but in the path of the wave. Simon said, “A miracle might be appropriate right now.” The bridge shook with the force of the water hitting it. But it held strong and the wave was not high enough to reach them.

The wall of water hit the temple structure smashing much of it to pieces. Pillars came crashing down around the combatants.

The three angels binding Asherah had just plunged into the crevice when the water filled it in.

The three netted angels could not untangle themselves before they were swept away in the flood of seawater.

Ba’al rode the wave like a shark surfing just below the crest. He was on his way to the mainland. He had escaped his binding by mere moments.

The statue of Ba’al was buried in the rubble of the collapsing marble—with Uriel beneath it.

Then, just as quickly as the water had devastated the island, it was gone. The receding waters drained back into the ocean, along with the decimated ruins and bodies of the few inhabitants of the sacred isle.

Jesus and Simon ran back down the stairs and waded through the rubble and debris left in the wake of the tsunami.

Simon complained, “My lord, you calmed the storm on the sea of Galilee. Why did you not stop this wave?”

Jesus said, “I have my reasons for why I allow these things. You just follow me.”

They approached the marble ruins that had been the temple and sought for any sign of life.

There was none to be found.

Finally, a figure crawled out of a pile of rock. He was bruised and battered, but he was free.

It was Uriel. He limped up to Jesus and Simon. He handed Jesus a stone tablet the size of a large wineskin. He coughed up some water and said, “The Tablet of Destinies. Do I not deliver?”

Jesus asked, “What happened to the others?”

“Asherah is on her way to Tartarus. But Ba’al got away. He netted Mikael, Gabriel and Raphael like a school of tuna. They were washed inland somewhere.”

Jesus replied, “Uriel, I do not want you crowing over Gabriel. Do you have ears to hear?”

Uriel mumbled downcast. “Yes, Adonai.”

“We have to get on the road as soon as possible,” said Jesus. “We have to catch up with Ba’al.”

Simon looked at him curiously. “You know where he is going?”

“I have a good idea,” replied Jesus.

Longinus followed Herod Antipas through the dressing room of the extravagant palatial bathhouse of the Herodian fortress of Machaerus. The black and white mosaic floor annoyed him with its dizzying effect.

“Come on, Longinus, join me,” said Antipas.

“Not today,” said Longinus. He kept his toga and sandals on, as Antipas stripped naked and led him into the tepidarium to receive a royal rub down.

“Suit yourself, centurion.”

The indulgence of the royal class disgusted Longinus. Their lazy, leisurely excess resulted in the fat, weak bodies like that of Antipas before him. He wouldn’t want to be caught dead joining in on such aristocratic decadence.

Antipas lay on a table. A masseuse rubbed him down with body oils and perfume ointments more suitable for his effeminate appearance than for the masculine leader he should be. The metaphor that came to Longinus’ mind was that of a worm.

Longinus had to wait for the rigorous pat down of the fleshy worm to finish before Antipas could talk.

Antipas got up from the table and they continued on into the caldarium, or steam room, with Longinus dutifully following.

Antipas touched the steaming waters of a personal bath. He whimpered. “Ow, that is scalding hot.”

Longinus thought this was the limit of pain and suffering that such soft-bodied, weak-minded royalty had to endure. He thought,
I would like to see you last two minutes in the desert heat of a Roman march, you subhuman slug.

Still, Longinus was thankful he was in his lighter toga. The steam room was heated from below by hot water pipes that would have caused heat exhaustion, had he been wearing his full officer’s uniform.

Antipas lowered himself into the steaming liquid and finally said, “What is it you want to know that is so important to Pilate?”

“He has commissioned me to track down some insurrectionists caught in seditious acts against Caesar.”

Antipas groaned, “Another uprising? Jewish rebels are like cockroaches. You stomp them out, but they keep breeding and returning. Those cursed sons of Judas the Galilean, James and Simon, are still running around the hill country, causing me great pains.”

Longinus said, “One of the brigands that I am trying to find, I understand, was a well-known actor in Scythopolis, a Gestas Semaras. Do you know of him?”

“The name is familiar.”

“He ingratiated himself with some of your family, and sought to burrow his way into the aristocracy through marriage.”

“I do remember something of that. My wife, Herodias had me ban the marriage.”

Pathetic cuckold
, thought Longinus.
Manipulated by his controlling bitch wife
. Longinus said, “What can you tell me?”

“Nothing that will be of help to you, I am sure. But Herodias can tell you everything about it. She revels in such court intrigue and romance.”

Longinus wiped sweat from his brow. “I understand you have a prisoner, here. John the Baptizer?”

“Ah yes, the Baptizer. Let me tell you about that son of a whore. Talk about troublemaking brigands! He has quite a following. And while he is a fiery prophet, he preaches no armed revolution, so I cannot just kill the little insect. He would become a martyr.”

Longinus asked, “Why have you imprisoned him, then?”

“Oh, he was causing quite an uproar by spreading his self-righteous moralizing about my marriage to Herodias. The Jewish law forbids marrying the wife of one’s brother as incest. Herodias is the wife of my brother, so I am sure you can see
that
was not good for political gravitas in my kingdom.”

Kingdom
. The little twat was a prince of the tetrarchy of Galilee, not a king. He used kingship of himself as a means of self-flattery.

Antipas kept spewing. “Now, I do not know what to do with the Baptizer. If I kill him, I make a martyr and may cause an uprising. If I let him go, he will return to spreading his poison of political dissent that may still lead to an uprising.”

“I would like to talk with him,” said Longinus. “I want to see if he has any connection with the Zealots that my outlaws seem to be a part of.”

“Zealots,” complained Antipas. “Like I said, back like cockroaches.”

Longinus thought,
Like Herods.

“I tell you what,” said Antipas. “Today is my birthday, and I have a feast prepared. Why don’t you join me as my guest? Herodias can fill you in on all the gossip you want to know about your actor outlaw. You can visit the Baptizer in his cell afterward.”

“I cannot afford delay on my quest. I would prefer….”

“Nonsense,” interrupted Antipas. “You need to eat. It will not hurt you to rest before your long journey back to Galilee. Please accept my offer as a form of gratitude to Caesar.”

Longinus sighed. This lazy, soaking worm was insufferable. But Longinus did have a grueling two-day journey back from this palace on the eastern shore of the Dead Sea.

“I insist,” said the worm.

Longinus felt uncomfortable amidst the excess of conspicuous consumption that marked the feast in Herod’s palatial banquet hall. Like all of Herod’s rebuilt structures, this desert palace was Greco-Roman in style and lay atop a sixteen hundred foot tall rocky prominence, five miles east of the northern tip of the Dead Sea. The banquet hall sported a mosaic floor and purple curtains from Tyre. The food set before them was lavish in display and forbidden by Jewish standards—from roasted boar to shell fish to other, rich, exotic foods prohibited by their Torah. Antipas had no sense of honor or discipline. Of course, such taboos were nonsensical to Longinus. But for Antipas to so defy his own cultural codes of conduct just meant the hypocrite could not be trusted on any level, even by Romans.

Yet, he simply carried on the legacy of his royal family from the past hundred years. A legacy of lies, intrigue and betrayal. The taboo marriage of Antipas was only the beginning of his incestuous interests. For the moment, Longinus had to endure an erotic “dance of the seven veils” performed by Antipas’ own step-daughter by Herodias, a young girl named Salomé. She appeared barely of marrying age. She writhed and wriggled like a nubile seductive serpent. She stripped off her seven veils one by one to the music until she was stark naked before the tetrarch and his company. Antipas watched her with lascivious eyes and clapping hands.

Longinus conversed with Herodias, to try to avoid the disgusting sight, but he found Herodias engaged in her own lascivious flirtations—with Longinus. These people had no limits to their debauchery.

He whispered to Herodias, “Did you know anything of the actor’s political entanglements?” He was referring to Gestas Semaras.

“Not before we cut him off. But if it is entanglements you are interested in, I am sure I can provide some satisfaction.”

He ignored her advances. He wanted facts. He needed something more. Some piece of information that might lead him to the actor’s whereabouts.

“What do you know of the criminal Jesus Barabbas?”

“Well, I did have a servant spy on Gestas for a short time afterward as a precaution of protection for the princess. He followed the actor to some caves southwest of Scythopolis.”

Longinus’ ears perked up. “May I speak to this servant?”

She smiled at him. “Such manners. Are you so proper in all areas of your life?” Longinus could see her breathing rate increase and her eyes turn into those of a bitch in heat. “Or do you have that little forbidden part of you, hidden from your lawful discipline, where you unleash yourself?”

He tried to dodge her advances. “You and I both know, there are some laws whose violation leads to execution for both parties involved.”

His intent had the opposite effect on her. “That sounds titillating. After the feast, I will personally bring you to him.”

This hound will not let up.
Longinus knew where she really wanted to bring him: to her bedchamber. He had no desire to be pulled into such a trap.

The music ended. The filthy dance was over and the naked girl bowed to the tetrarch. When the applause died down, Antipas stood and made a proclamation that made Longinus lose even what little respect he had for the ruler.

“Magnificent!” shouted Antipas. “Absolutely magnificent! Whatever you ask of me, I will give to you.”

The girl looked confused. She wasn’t sure she heard him correctly.

“I mean it, child. Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it to you, up to half of my kingdom!”

A hush went over the crowd. Then scandalous whispering broke out.

Antipas swaggered. He was drunk. And he was also clearly aroused. Longinus thought the foolish pervert should have stayed sitting down. He considered reporting Antipas to Caesar, because Herod, as a client ruler, offered what he had no legal right to do.

Salomé looked over at Herodias, who finally took her attention off of Longinus. At first, she was angry, jealous that this moron whom she had coddled, stroked and flattered, was now giving her daughter what she herself deserved. She said to Antipas, “My lord, you cannot be serious.”

“Who are you to say I am not?” crowed Antipas. “I am king here, and I have the power.” He stumbled backward a step.

Herodias’ anger then turned to realization. She immediately gestured for Salomé to follow her out of the room. Salomé obeyed. The crowd whisperings grew louder, as gossip exploded over the outrageous proposition of the king.

“Longinus!” The call came from the tipsy Antipas, who was about to fall over. “You look like you need to have some fun. Celebrate! I demand it for my birthday!”

He leaned over a pail held by a servant and stuck his finger in his mouth. He gagged and then vomited into the pail. More disgusting decadence to Longinus. Royalty would often purge their meals in this way so they could keep eating.

Antipas finished gagging. His servant wiped his mouth with a kerchief and handed him a goblet of wine. Antipas rinsed his mouth with the wine, gargled and spit it into the pail. The servant left him.

Antipas moved over to the centurion, and noticed an absence. “Where is Herodias?” He smiled devilishly, “What have you done with my wife, Longinus?” He looked around with the façade of being secretive, and semi-whispered, “Just make sure the body is cold before reporting it.” He grinned and slapped the officer on the back with a “Ha!”

Longinus knew this would not end well.

Antipas stopped and said, “I am hungry. Let us eat!”

The returning entrance of the young Salomé into the banquet room, newly clothed, snared the attention of Antipas. The girl was followed by Herodias, who reclaimed her place at the banquet table. Salomé floated up to the staring tetrarch and bowed low to the ground before him. She wore a flowing, embroidered gown, Antipas’s favorite.

“My step-father and king, I have carefully considered your offer.”

Antipas looked over at Longinus with surprise. He saw Herodias return to her seat.

“And what is your wish, my wonderful step-daughter?”

Longinus knew that Antipas was regretting his offer to this little twat. But he also realized that the returning Herodias had obviously used her daughter as a proxy, to get what she wanted. He only prayed to Mithras it had nothing to do with Longinus himself.

Salomé raised herself up and with pretentiousness announced, “I want you to give me the head of John the Baptist on a platter.”

The company around Antipas all fell silent. Longinus could see the shock in Antipas’ face, and the subtle smirk on Herodias’ lips.

Of course
, he thought.
I should have guessed it. This treacherous bitch was getting revenge on the one who challenged her moral behavior. No doubt how she will deal with me, if I do not get out of here tonight.

Longinus got up and knelt down by Antipas, who mused to him, “I do not want to kill the Baptizer, but I should be glad she did not ask for something injurious to my actual kingship.” Antipas turned back to the girl and said, “Granted, my precious one.”

Longinus whispered in Antipas’ ear. “You must let me see him before he is executed. It is for the procurator, remember.”

“Of course,” said Antipas. “You may do so, but quickly. I received a report that Caesar has sent Vitellius of Syria to meet with the Parthian king’s envoy up north. I have to leave immediately in the morning to join them.”

Longinus followed the guards down to the cell where the Baptizer was being held. He gestured for the guards to wait for him at the door until he was through with his interrogation.

When the door slammed shut, John looked up from his sitting position against the wall amidst a pile of straw, his only comfort. He was bedraggled and starved. His long, bushy beard made him look like a madman.

Longinus placed a plate of bread and fruit with a cup of wine at John’s feet. The mad prophet ignored it.

“I am Marcus Lucius Longinus, envoy of Pontius Pilate, the procurator of Galilee.”

“I know who that criminal is,” croaked the Baptizer.

Longinus watched him with eagle eyes. “I can help you. If you will but help me.”