Jesus Triumphant (Chronicles of the Nephilim Book 8) (15 page)

And in the days of those kings the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that shall never be destroyed. It shall break in pieces all these kingdoms and bring them to an end, and it shall stand forever. But the stone that struck the image became a great mountain and filled the whole earth
.

That stone was Messiah, the Seed of Eve, the Seed of Abraham. And the time had arrived for the visitation of God. Eleazar knelt down to one knee, cleared his throat, to get their attention, and said, “My lord Antipas, may I ask what the name of this Nazarene is?”

“Oh yes,” said Antipas, “I nearly forgot. It is Yeshua. Jesus in Greek.” Yeshua meant “Yahweh saves.” Antipas turned curious. “But what is of your concern, captive?” He gave a side glance with a smirk to Artabanus. “Did you want to join him?”

Artabanus and his surrounding officers guffawed. Even Vitellius smiled at the remark.

“No, my lord,” said Eleazar. “I want to kill him.”

The laughter went dead.

Artabanus said, “Well, giant, you certainly know how to kill the fun around here. I am glad I am getting rid of you.”

The officers brightened up a bit at the sarcasm.

Vitellius finally spoke up. He wanted to finish this juvenile bantering. “There will be no more killing for you, giant, until you reach Rome. There you can amuse Caesar and the masses with your warrior skills in the arena.”

Vitellius got up from his throne. “We leave for Antioch in the morning. From there, we ship to Rome. I bid you goodnight, King Artabanus.”

• • • • •

After several days’ march, Vitellius’ forces were halfway to the city of Antioch on the coast of Phoenicia. They camped for rest outside Berea, the largest city in Syria. Vitellius had with him a cohort of just under five hundred men. A third of them were in the city on reprieve. A third of them were on duty in camp. Herod Antipas had taken the King’s Highway back to his home in Galilee.

Eleazar knew they were two hundred miles due north of Baal-Hermon and the northernmost city of the Palestinian provinces, Caesarea Philippi. He knew Hermon was the cosmic mountain of the gods located in the land of Bashan, the place of the Serpent. If he could escape and make his way to that sacred place, he could find intelligence on the Nazarene’s whereabouts and strike with all his fury and revenge on the Messianic Seed.

After dinner, every night, he was locked up in the prison wagon, a traveling cage on wheels pulled by a team of horses. It was a cramped jail that he couldn’t even stretch out in to sleep. The Romans had freed him from his leg restraints to enable his ability to march with them during the day. They didn’t bother to replace the leg chains at night, only his hand shackles. After all, he wasn’t being marched to his death, only to Rome, where he might actually have a career, become famous, and make a lot of money; something he had not been too successful at in his Parthian rebellion.

But Eleazar didn’t care about fame or money.

He made his move in the early evening hours after dinner. Security was lax, attention was spare. There was but one guard on duty at the wagon. Eleazar looked around the wagon. They were at the edge of camp, and no one was around.

Eleazar called out quietly in a scratchy voice, “Legionary. May I have some water, please?”

The guard, an older soldier with one eye lost from a battle wound, stepped over to the wagon. He stayed just outside the reach of Eleazar’s long arms and handed a water skin to the giant using a stick for extension.

Eleazar took the skin and drank deeply.

“What is your name?”

The soldier did not respond. He knew not to interact with such wily creatures as captive giants.

Eleazar finished. “Thank you, my friend.”

The soldier growled, “I am not your friend, freak.”

Eleazar held the skin back out through the bars. He tried to hang it on the stick, but it slipped and fell to the ground by the wheel of the wagon.

“I am sorry,” said Eleazar.

The soldier was too wise for such tricks. And too wary to say anything. He glared at Eleazar, who knew what he was supposed to do.

He turned slowly around with his back to the soldier so he could not see him. He got a second look back into camp. Still no one was near them. Many were eating their meals.

Something the old soldier did not know was that giants had preternatural senses. Eleazar could see a centipede crawling at a hundred feet and hear its myriad legs moving at fifty feet.

He heard the steps of the solider in the dirt, and then his chain mail shuffle as he bent down.

Eleazar spun around and reached through the cage bars as far as he could, barely catching the old soldier by the scruff of his neck. He yanked his head into the wheel. The soldier still had his helmet on, so it made a loud clanking sound. It was enough force to stun the old codger.

Eleazar pulled him up to the bars by his throat. The soldier was dizzy. He couldn’t yell out, because his throat was clutched in the vise grip of the giant. He choked for air.

Eleazar whispered to him, “If you had been a bit more cordial, I might have let you live.”

Eleazar then squeezed his hand and crushed the soldier’s larynx. His other hand held up the Roman as he ripped out his esophagus.

He pulled the keys from the soldier’s belt. Then he dropped the body to the ground.

As he turned to open his door, he noticed some soldiers had been alerted by the sounds of struggle.

Curses
, thought Eleazar.
I will have to fight my way out
.

He fumbled with the keys, trying to get the door open before the soldiers could arrive. There were a dozen of them.

Too late. A soldier reached the cage, wielding his gladius. Eleazar pulled his hands back inside, just avoiding the blade as it clanged against the iron where his hands had been.

The keys were still in the lock. What the soldier didn’t know was that the lock had been opened.

Eleazar kicked the door open, knocking the soldier and a newly arrived one to the ground, unconscious.

Ten other warriors came rushing up behind the first two.

The giant was fortunate. None of them had sounded the alarm. They were all responding immediately, to quench a threat before it could get out of control.

They were too late.

Eleazar’s armor and weapons were stored beneath the wagon in anticipation of his use in the Roman games. He pulled them out just as the guards reached him.

Eleazar’s sword cut the first unlucky arrival in half with one swing. He knew he only had seconds before he would be overwhelmed. He would most likely be tortured for his attempted escape, castrated and sodomized with a lance. These could all be done without spoiling his fighting ability for Caesar.

He had to make sure this would not be a foiled attempt at escape.

He cut down four others in a flurry of swings.

One of them had a shield up. Eleazar kicked him in the shield and sent him flying through the air like a catapult, bringing down two others.

The other three he skewered with his javelin.

But the fight drew attention in the camp. Others gathered for an offensive. One sounded a horn.

Eleazar picked up his sack of armor, sheathed his sword and bolted into the darkness of night before anyone could see which way he went.

Some cavalry would chase him. But he could run as fast as a horse. He also shared the endurance of one.

He began his two hundred mile journey south to Caesarea Philippi, and the Gates of Hades.

Demas and Gestas stopped from their journey to set up camp and eat a meal. It was already late in the day. They had traversed the mountain passes of the Kadesh mountain area north of Capernaum, and were now on the highway that linked Tyre on the coast with Caesarea Philippi and Damascus in the east. It was a well-traveled route for commercial trade between the three influential cities. They were on their way west toward Tyre, to track down Jesus and his band of disciples that in all likelihood included Simon the Zealot.

The sound of an approaching company made Demas run ahead and reconnoiter, to see if it was anything important. If the approachers were questionable, the brothers would hide in the bush.

Demas waved to Gestas that it was all right. When he reached his brother, he said, “I think it is them.”

“The Nazarene?” asked Gestas.

Demas nodded. “And his followers. About a hundred of them. They look like fishermen, farmers and the like. Harmless.”

“They must be returning from Tyre to Galilee.”

“Well then,” said Demas, “so are we.”

The brothers decided to pretend to keep their camp and appear to be surprised by the arrival of the company. They would play their day laborer identities and ask to travel with them back to Galilee.

When the traveling group appeared on the near stretch of the road, Gestas unexpectedly ran out to meet them. He called out, “Fellow Jews! Greetings! We have been traveling from Capernaum in search of Jesus bar Joseph, the one they call Messiah. Do you know where we can find him?”

The disciples appeared on edge. A couple of them stood protectively in front of a bearded man.

Demas’ stomach dropped. What was he doing? This was
not
the plan. Demas was not good at improvising like his brother was. He felt sick.

The group had stopped. One of them, which Gestas suspected was Peter, spoke out, “Why do you seek him?”

Gestas pointed back to Demas and said, “My brother and I had heard stories of miracles, healings, and exorcisms.”

Oh great
, thought Demas.
He is not going to pretend at all? What in the world is he doing?

Gestas kept talking as Demas walked toward him. “I think he could be Messiah, but my brother here has his doubts.”

Now, Demas looked at him with true shock. “Brother!”

Suddenly, the shielded man stepped out from the group of travelers. He wore a traveling robe, a clean, trimmed beard and haircut, and penetrating eyes. Gestas actually felt a peace come over him just from looking at the man. It was strange.

The man smiled and said, “Welcome, Demas and Gestas. There is plenty of room for both of you. Even with your doubts.”

Demas whispered, “How did he know our names?”

Gestas shrugged.

The man spoke, “I am Jesus whom you seek. We are on our way to Caesarea Philippi. You are welcome to join us. We will camp here with you for the night.”

“Thank you, Jesus!” Gestas blurted out. They returned to their fire as the traveling company unpacked and settled down.

Demas whispered to him, “Why in Hades did you do that?”

Gestas said, “I figured it would be easier if we just play a version of ourselves. Especially since you cannot act very well.”

“Why don’t you just tell them that we are also looking for Simon, to consider killing him along with Jesus?”

“Hush, brother. It will be much easier for us to be more direct. I actually am quite fascinated by this rabbi. And you can continue to play your own ornery self, so what is there to complain about?”

Gestas smiled. Demas frowned back. They sat down in the lengthening shadows to finish eating their meal.

Demas whispered again, “How did he know our names?”

“How would I know?”

Jesus called out again, “Gestas, Demas! Please join us with your meal.”

The brothers ate by the fire with Jesus’ followers, and discovered which one was Simon when they were introduced to the main disciples. The best that Demas could determine was that there seemed to be three who were especially close to Jesus; Peter, James, and John. Then there were about ten others who were the next closest to them. The rest were more distant from the inner circle but followers nonetheless. Demas was amazed to see that six of them were women. It was not a usual thing in this patriarchal culture for women to be traveling disciples. He wondered if they were priestesses of Asherah or some other goddess.

Gestas asked the group if there were any who could explain to him and his skeptical brother more clearly the Scriptures and their references to Messiah. It was a clever ploy to get close to Simon, seemingly by chance. They had known of Simon’s scribal background from Qumran through Barabbas. So it was no surprise that their plan worked perfectly. Simon volunteered to help them.

They finished up their food and drink as some prepared for sleep. Gestas said to Simon, “Where do you come from?”

“Originally, Qumran,” answered Simon. “I was an Essene. We were sure we were the true remnant of Israel in a land of hypocrites and frauds. We were waiting for the End of Days. But I rejected their ways and joined a band of Zealots in the desert.”

Barabbas
, thought Demas.

“We wanted to do something about the Roman occupation of our land, instead of just talking and fighting amongst ourselves as to who was the true Jew or not.”

“How did you end up here?” asked Demas.

“Well, we had heard about Jesus. His signs and wonders. About John the Baptizer and his proclamation of Jesus as Messiah. But we wanted to know if he would be an ally of ours or an enemy. So I was sent to find out.”

Gestas could not believe how truthful Simon was being with them. Why would anyone be so honest? Why would he feel he had nothing to hide?

“What did you conclude?” asked Gestas.

“Jesus is Messiah,” said Simon.

“Will you return to the Zealots?” asked Demas. “Or are they your enemy?”

Simon turned somber and said, “I will let you decide that for yourself.”

The brothers would not get the easy answer they wanted. Demas said, “If he is Messiah, then why does he lead no armies?”

Simon spoke in a lower tone as if sharing a secret. “If you had seen what I have seen, you would understand.”

“What did you see?” said Demas.

“I cannot say. But I can tell you that if you go with us to Caesarea Philippi, you will see for yourself.”

“What is there?” asked Gestas.

“You shall see,” whispered Simon.

The brothers had heard of the place. But they had always thought it was a legend. Was it really what the rumors and tales said it was?

Seven travelers in cloaks arrived at the rear fire, sixty feet away. They caught everyone’s attention. Jesus met the seven apart from the group of disciples, as if he were familiar with them. Demas knew disguised warriors when he saw them. They must be bodyguards of some kind. This would make their task of killing Jesus a near impossible one. He still wasn’t sure if it was even worth killing this Simon either. What kind of competition could this peaceful rabbi be to Barabbas, anyway?

Gestas was thinking along the same lines as his brother. He felt there was something they were not seeing. Maybe it would be helpful for them to wait and see what happened at Caesarea Philippi before deciding to risk their lives with their task of assassination.

Gestas said, “May I ask you a personal question, Simon?”

Simon nodded eagerly.

“Do you think that maybe all this talk of ‘turning the other cheek,’ and ‘loving your enemies’ may be a necessary smoke screen to allow Messiah to gather enough forces and release a secret cache of arms?”

Simon looked perplexed. “You may be right, Gestas. I have thought much about his storytelling. He teaches using parables to obscure their meaning from those who are against him. He told us so himself. And if you consider them closely, you find they all have violent ends as judgment in the age of Messiah. For instance, his parable of the weeds describes the true sons of the kingdom separated from the wicked false sons who are intended for the flames of purging; the parable of the dragnet has fishermen separating fish, the righteous from the evil, who are thrown into a furnace of fire. He told a parable of virgins awaiting the bridegroom, and another wedding story only to end in tragedy as certain invitees are rejected and judged; a parable about separating sheep and goats leads to eternal life for sheep and eternal destruction for the goats. I could go on, but you see my concern. He does seem to indicate that the end of this age and the inauguration of the age of Messiah results in as much destruction as it does redemption and atonement. And the separation unto judgment is led in all of the parables by his angels.”

Gestas watched the seven strangers as he said to Simon, “Do you think he will lead an army of Yahweh’s heavenly host against Rome?”

Demas stared at his brother with surprise.

Simon responded, “It is possible, from what I have seen.”

Gestas said, “What have you seen?”

“I told you. I cannot explain.” Simon looked up and saw Jesus with his stranger guardians waving him over to them. “I will be right back.”

As he walked over to Jesus and the seven, he realized that the angels had all regathered sometime after the tsunami incident.

After Simon left, Demas whispered to Gestas, “Are you play-acting or are you starting to believe this fanaticism?”

They watched Simon talking with Jesus and the seven guardians. The strangers glanced back at them from afar.

“Do not be so pig-headed, Demas. Consider this, if this Jesus is more powerful than Barabbas, whose side would you want to be on if war does break out?”

Demas would not say. “All the same, I say we kill Simon in his sleep and slip back to Galilee. We can tell Barabbas the truth. The rabbi is unapproachable, protected by disguised warriors.”