Yes, I am posting the next part!
I apologize ahead of time for any mistakes within the following.
It is late. And I am going to get some sleep now...
~*~
The busy streets of Jerusalem were
quiet. Families had retired to their homes for the night and were
resting and visiting on the flat rooftops of
their houses. Occasional conversations drifted on the gentle breeze,
sounding as faint murmurs to the distant ear. Except for the
infrequent straggler, traveler, or Roman soldier, the streets were
empty.
Cautiously, Nicodemus cracked open the
door, peering warily into the darkened ways. Deeming it safe enough,
the old Jew slipped out and carefully shut the door, whispering a
quick farewell as he exited.
“God bless and keep you and yours,
Joseph.” With that, he hurried away, gathering his robes about
him. As he guardedly picked his way through the winding streets of
the Upper City, sometimes passing through a little used alleyway, and
sometimes striding along a wider, well-worn street, Nicodemus found
himself recalling his last after dark experience.
“Truly, I say to you, unless one
is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”
Suppressing a
short chuckle, he slowly shook his head in amazement, pausing in the
deep shadows of a building. Who could possibly have thought so much
should have happened since then? And, Oh! How beautiful those words
had become!
Nicodemus took a
step forward, only to quickly draw back into the shadows as a
work-weary man plodded by close enough for him to hear the steady
rasp of breath; a donkey followed close behind, lead rope in the
man's hand. Patiently, Nicodemus waited a few long moments before he
chanced to continue.
credit google
“For God so
loved the world, He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes
in Him should not perish, but have eternal life.”
The words rang as
clear and true in his mind as they had on that night. Nicodemus'
heart swelled within him; it failed to cease to amaze him. All that
time ago, Jesus, the Christ, the Son of God Himself,
had spoken those words to him, knowing He would suffer, die, and rise
again in three days! Nicodemus gave a little hop-skip he was certain
was unbecoming of his age and rank, but he could not contain his joy.
Smoothing his robes hastily, he continued on his way in a more
dignified manner.
However, as he
turned a corner onto a street that would take him straight to his
home, the old man slowed his pace, his eyes fixed warily on the
shadowy form of a tall man in Roman garb not twenty paces from him.
Nicodemus found himself stopping completely, sensing, somehow, the
man was indeed waiting for him.
* * *
Servius advanced a
step forward, facing the Jewish leader in an almost defiant way. He
fought to control the feelings of confusion, helplessness, and
despair that threatened to tear him apart.
“I need
answers.” He spoke plainly, the harsh, cold tone of his voice
masking the torrent of emotions at war within him. He saw Nicodemus
eye the sheathed gladius at his side, shifting uncertainly before he
slowly moved forward.
“Why don't you
come in,” the old man replied quietly, surprising Servius as he
guardedly walked by him, gesturing to his home. Servius remained
unmoved for a moment, prompting Nicodemus to pause and glance back
once he had gone a couple paces forward.
“It is best to
speak within closed walls these days.” Nicodemus spoke slowly and
deliberately. Servius could feel the man's eyes studying him
intently, searching for a purpose.
Hesitatingly, the
Roman followed Nicodemus, no longer certain whether or not he truly
desired to know the answers to his many questions.
***
Eitan's legs felt
weak as he scaled the steps of the temple, something he had done so
many times before. Keeping his eyes down, he focused on his feet,
watching each step come and go with an uncommon interest. The heavy
bag at his side occasionally gave a metallic clash that seemed to
echo starkly in his worn mind.
There was little
movement within the temple. The Levites on night duty were the only
people within sight, and then, one only caught sight of them as they
passed through to accomplish some required service. Eitan had been
waiting outside the temple all evening long. The man he sought had
not yet left, and he knew that, even now, he was still within the
building.
Eitan slowed to a
walk, his legs suddenly weak. Breathlessly, he leaned against the
wall, fighting the worry and guilt that had plagued him ever since
that fearful morning. He caught his breath as footsteps echoed
hollowly about the temple. Nearer and nearer they sounded until
Eitan feared they should walk into him. Stepping out from the
shadows, he found himself face to face with the man he sought.
Caiaphas looked
startled for a moment at the sudden appearance of the young guard,
but he quickly composed himself and met his eyes curiously.
“I gather you
have come to see me... Eitan, is it?” The high priest's tone was
sickeningly kind and fatherly in Eitan's ears. “How may I help
you?”
“I can't do it.”
For days, Eitan had thought of the right way to say it. Now, he was
too broken and torn to truly care. Caiaphas narrowed his eyes.
Eitan was reminded of a snake.
“What do you
mean, boy? Speak plainly!”
“I can no longer
lie about what I saw that morning,” Eitan blurted, his heart
pounding in his ears. “Do what you want with me.” Hastily, he
took the weighty satchel of coins and tossed them at Caiaphas' feet.
They fell with a resounding clash. “I will spread your lies no
more!”
For a moment,
Caiaphas stared down at the money while Eitan stood breathless and
pale. Slowly, the high priest raised his eyes, frightening Eitan with
their cruel, cold intensity. Folding his hands calmly in
the sleeves of his robe, Caiaphas fixed his gaze on the young man.
“Very well.”
His voice was low and quiet, yet somehow menacing. “Do as you
please. However, should the Romans ever come for you, you may expect
no protection from the council.” As he continued to speak, his
voice rose to a threatening pitch, chilling Eitan and causing him to
take a step back. Caiaphas glanced down at the money then gestured
to it carelessly.
“Your little
show means nothing to me,” he sneered. Cocking his head to one
side, he smiled eerily. “The last man to return my fair payment
hung himself.”
Eitan ran.
2 comments:
Great writing, Julia. You've done it again. I loved the end.
Thank you so much, Lady Ashlin!
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