The time for the evening meal approached. “Uncle, you should get something to eat,” Mary said. “You have not eaten for two days.”
“I’ll eat whatever you bring,” he said, but she tugged his arm and dragged him outside.
“I will not have you behave like an ungrateful guest,” she hissed. “Come see what they have done.”
It was a strange affair. The Belgae had laid out food for the visitors, but were not joining in themselves. Joseph surmised that while the imminence of the execution dampened the customary Celtic enthusiasm for revelry, the occasion still called for the Belgae to extend their hospitality. Joseph passed by the meats and contented himself with a selection of savory cakes, vegetables, and cheese. While he ate, it occurred to him that he had not seen Jesus since their arrival.
Grengan and Fergus joined Joseph at his table. Joseph nodded his greeting to them, and they kept to their silence, seeming to respect his desire to keep to himself. Joseph finished his meal and excused himself. He had not seen Jesus at the dining tables.
Joseph walked toward the wattle cage where the guards still watched over Daniel. He wanted to check if Jesus was there, but he did not want to approach too near. He drew close enough to make out the figures of Mary and the guards, but not Jesus. Joseph returned to the tent.
Sometime later—he knew not how long, for he was adrift in meditation—Mary poked her head in. “Are you hiding in here again?” She shook her head. “It is not like you to keep to yourself.”
He sighed. “Have you seen Jesus?”
“Not since he asked me to bring his things to the tent.” Mary studied him. “Will you come?”
“How can I be sociable now?”
She lowered her eyes, nodded, and left him alone.
As night fell, Joseph heard Elsigar return. Mary came in a short time later. “They say the Belgae king is still at his seat at Sarum.”
“That’s ten miles away,” Joseph said.
“Elsigar had to ride there and back, but the arrangements have all been made. Aghamore will arrive early in the afternoon.”
Then Grengan and Fergus will hand over Daniel for Aghamore’s judgment, and the king will hear from anyone who has anything to say. Which should include Jesus. But where is he?
Just before dawn, Joseph was startled out of his restless sleep by Jesus entering the tent.
“Where have you been? Your mother and I have been worried.”
“Let us go outside so we do not awaken Mother.” Jesus led Joseph to a lonely campfire. The flames had died away, but the embers still glowed. Jesus placed another log on the fire. “I went to see King Aghamore. He received me after Elsigar left, but Elsigar does not know this.”
“Why would you do that? The trial is not until tomorrow.”
“I hoped to redeem Daniel’s life.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“As a child learning from the rabbi at Nazareth, I heard something about the laws under King Solomon. If a man is to be enslaved for debt, someone can redeem him from slavery by paying his debt. At Ynys Môn, I found the Celts have a broader provision under their laws. Anyone can go to the family of the victim of a crime and offer them a fine. If the fine is accepted, the prisoner must be freed.”
“What happened between you and King Aghamore?”
“He received me kindly, even when I told him my purpose in coming to see him. It gave me hope that I might persuade him. I told him of the goodness that I had always seen in Daniel, and then I offered him everything you put aside for Daniel and me all these years as the fine for the slaying of his daughter.”
“Did he accept it?”
“He said he died the day he heard of Bridget’s death. He said there is not enough money in the world to deny his daughter the justice she deserves.”
“Was there anything else?”
Jesus nodded as tears welled in his eyes. “I tried to tell him that all of us would give anything to bring his daughter back to him, but that executing Daniel would never restore her. He answered me so kindly, and then I knew my cause was hopeless. He said he was sorry for the loss of my cousin. I knew then that he was not acting because of any insult to his family honor but out of love for his daughter, just as I wanted to save Daniel because of my love for him.”
“You should not have done this. Daniel is no longer a member of this family. You had no right to interfere. Daniel’s fate is for the Britons to decide under their law.”
“You have the right to say that Daniel is no longer your son, but he is still my cousin. He has been my best friend and constant companion ever since the day we left Galilee. Daniel succumbed to the Devil in a moment of weakness. The same weakness to desires affects all mortal men.”
“Like all men, my son was free to choose between good and evil. He chose the path of evil, and he must now pay the consequences.”
“On the night I was alone with my Father on the Tor, he said that through my death on the cross of crucifixion, I could redeem the whole world from sin. Did you hear that, Uncle? He said that my death would be the hope for redemption for everyone, not just the few, not just the strongest or the worthiest, but everyone. Daniel has always been a good and righteous man, until he fell into sin for one short period, for which he most sincerely repents. I have now done everything I can to redeem him.” Jesus gritted his teeth and clenched his hair in his hands. “If I cannot redeem just one righteous man, how can I possibly redeem the whole world?”
“No one can know how God works his will. You are called to a great trial, Jesus, as much as any prophet of old. Did Jonah imagine that God would find a way to release him from the belly of that whale? I am sure Jonah thought his situation was as hopeless as you feel yours is right now, and yet God heard his voice and found the way to save him. I have lived all my life in obedience to God. You must decide for yourself if you will do the same.”
Once again, the Fallen One made his way to heaven to confront God the Father on his throne. “I see you still think you can trick me. You know that Jesus will never surrender himself to death for the love of you, and so you use his love for his cousin. You just used the Arimathean to extend him hope that his death might still redeem that cousin of his.”
God considered what the Devil had said. “I might concede the point. After all, what credit would it be to Jesus to give of himself for someone he loves and who has always loved him? So, let us say that I take away any hope Jesus might have for Daniel. Instead, Jesus must make his choice to surrender himself to death for the sake of someone he despises.”
“That will never happen,” said Satan.
“If Jesus does that, will you in turn concede that he is unblemished, and that his sacrifice on the cross of crucifixion is worthy to seal a new covenant with my people?”
The Devil considered his choice.
It seems fair, but if I concede the righteousness of the sacrifice I will end up consumed in my own fires at the end of all things. It matters not. The boy does not have the strength to sacrifice himself if God removes any hope for Daniel
. “Fine, it is done,” Satan answered.
In the morning, the Belgae laid out another splendid meal for the travelers, but Jesus was not hungry.
Our hosts do not partake because they know this is no occasion for revelry
.
Going to the cage, Jesus put his hand through an opening in the wattle, and the two cousins clasped hands for some time without speaking. Jesus took back his hand and dipped his finger in a small vessel of oil he had brought with him. He spread the oil upon Daniel’s forehead, and then led Daniel in a prayer, asking God in Heaven for forgiveness.
Daniel seems comforted, but I am not. I call to my Father, but I hear nothing
.
“Daniel, I need to pray by myself for a while. King Aghamore will arrive, and your trial will begin anon. I will be in the crowd praying for you. I will be there through the end, and you will not be alone.” Jesus put his hand through the opening, and the cousins clasped hands again. Turning away, Jesus saw his mother approach to take his place. She had food with her and a moist cloth to wipe Daniel’s face.
Mother always knows what to do for those who suffer
.
Jesus walked away at a brisk pace, into the woods, and then he began to run. He ran far enough that no one would hear him shout. He dropped to his knees and closed his eyes, picturing in his mind the image of the Tor, reshaped into the monument to God’s anger and sadness. “Father, you say that the time is nigh for me to return to my homeland, to return to my kinfolk who will turn against me and offer me up for crucifixion. If I go, I bring no hope for freedom in this world for the Jews. If I go, I will never return to these shores and to the Britons I have come to love, and I abandon them to conquest. I know the path you would have me walk through this world is still a long one. It will be many years until the end, but I know now where it leads, so now is the time, here and now, for me to make my choice—obedience unto shame and death, or the fullness of life that comes with the awful price of separation from you.
“You say this sacrifice will bring redemption and the hope of salvation to a broken world racked by sin, but at the same time, it seems that I cannot even redeem just one man.” Jesus continued to shout. “Father, Daniel is a good man, but the Devil bewitched him in a moment of weakness. You know his repentance is true. If I cannot redeem a man such as this, how can I possibly redeem anyone else? Let me redeem Daniel, and I will do it. Show me how I can redeem this dear man, and I will give myself to death on the cross for you. It is all I ask.”
Hearing nothing, Jesus wept and pounded his fists into the ground.
The Belgae cheered as King Aghamore made his way through the pillars and under the lintels of Stonehenge. A full council of druids followed closely behind. The king passed by a pyre in the center of the monument, already constructed by his people so he could consign the prisoner to the flame without delay. The king seemed to pay it no mind. The Belgae druids who were to judge the case took their seats in front of the monument, facing the visitors across a small open space. King Aghamore and his retainers took seats on either side.
Arvigarus cast his eyes about nervously. Joseph, Fergus, and Grengan were in their places, and guards held Daniel by a halter. Even Mary was there, although she was not essential to the proceedings.
Where is Jesus? He said he wanted to be here so his cousin would not be alone at the end.
Arvigarus sensed some movement behind him and was relieved to see Jesus make his way to his place in the front of the visitors.
The guards from Ynys Witrin led Daniel before King Aghamore and handed the halter to the king’s retainers.
Arvigarus and Fergus stated that the Silures and Dumnonii had decided, because the crime had been committed against a princess of the Belgae, to yield jurisdiction to the king.
King Aghamore rose to speak, first addressing Arvigarus and Fergus. “As representatives of the Silures and Dumnonii, you have honorably fulfilled your obligations by delivering the prisoner for justice.” Turning his attention to Daniel, the king pointed his finger and howled with rage, addressing the druids sitting in judgment. “This man attempted to rape my daughter and then killed her. I died the day I heard she was dead, but it was not just a crime against me. I have no sons, and now I have no heir of my body to rule my kingdom after me. It was a crime against all my people, a crime against my house, and a crime against my daughter. I demand justice.”
Arvigarus recognized the chief druid of the Belgae, who was to preside over the trial—Aelhaern. At the druidic school in Bangor, he had been a hard taskmaster who focused upon rote memorization of druidic teachings. Aelhaern opened the trial for anyone to speak.
Joseph rose first and offered his apology to King Aghamore and all the Belgae. He explained the Jewish custom of sitting
shiva
for the dead. “I did this when I first heard of the attempted rape, because I considered Daniel dead to me.”
King Aghamore nodded courteously. “I understand your sorrow at the loss of a son. I bear no ill will against you and your family.”
Joseph sat down without looking at Daniel, who hung his head in pain, muttering that he deserved to die.
One by one, the witnesses rose to speak. Each of the surviving riders who had attended Bridget that day said they had seen Daniel attack her driver with a sword.
Fergus spoke eloquently of how Daniel risked his life at Rumps to preserve the freedom of the Dumnonii.
“While Daniel’s heroism at Rumps was commendable,” Aelhaern said, “it is not relevant to this crime.”
Grengan stood. “It is unlikely that anyone intended to kill the princess. Her death was the consequence of a stray arrow.” He pointed a finger at the druids. “An arrow. If Daniel attacked the wagon with a sword, he could not have been the one who loosed the fatal shot.”
A murmur ran through the crowd.
One of the druids said, “King Grengan’s arguments matter not, because as an outlander Daniel has earned the punishment of death simply by taking up arms in the sacred precinct of the Tor.”
Jesus stood to object. “Any violation of the neutrality of the sacred precinct is not properly part of the case, because that would not be a crime against the Belgae, only against the Dumnonii and the Silures.”
That gave rise to a heated discussion among the druids, but then Aelhaern ruled that Jesus was correct. “Does anyone else wish to speak?” Aelhaern asked.
Mary wept but said nothing. Daniel hung his head and remained silent.
The Belgae druids retired to a nearby grove to consider their decision.
Within a few minutes the druids filed back. With great solemnity they took their seats, except for Aelhaern. None of them looked at Daniel.
Aelhaern raised his voice, as if to make his pronouncement heard all the way to Ynys Môn. “The only possible decision is that Daniel be put to the flame.” Mary cried out in horror, but Aelhaern ignored her and continued. “It matters not whether anyone intended to kill the princess, or whether Daniel himself shot the fatal arrow. The evidence is clear that the prisoner was in league with brigands and that they intended to attack Princess Bridget’s wagon. In these circumstances, Daniel is responsible for the consequences of the attack, regardless of intent and regardless of whether he loosed the fatal shot.”