Year 41

  For our return to Jerusalem, we agreed on a journey by sea, traveling in one of the many grain ships that went down the coast to Alexandria. It would be a much faster journey, although we knew that our speed would depend solely on the strength and direction of the prevailing winds. Unlike the triremes and other military vessels, merchant ships usually had no rowers because of their high costs.

  On the day of our departure, we left the city in a small caravan and headed to the port of Seleucia Pieria, near the mouth of the river Orontes, where we later embarked on a ship headed initially for Byblos.

  It was my first time at sea. I had never before traveled by boat, and I must say it was not as peaceful and relaxed as I had imagined. The sea was stormy and very choppy during most of the journey, and the constant swaying almost did not allow us to keep to our bunks for long. I eventually found a place on the upper deck, where holding to the cordage and the railings I somehow managed to survive the nausea and the seasickness. But I was so frail and unsure of foot that I fell down a few times when I came on shore in Byblos.

  There we stayed for two more days, waiting for the gale to weaken, and again on board, this time pushed on by a mild southerly breeze we soon reached Tyre, and eventually Caesarea, fifteen days after leaving Antioch.

  Coming to the entrance of the port of Caesarea, we saw that the harbor was filled with ships, many of them triremes and Roman galleys, and we had to wait another full day until we could berth at one of the piers. We were then informed by the Publicans that came on board to assess the cargo, that all the activity was due to the departure of a legion from Judaea to Syria.

  We found the city in a festive mood. The colonnades of the harbor and the lighthouse were adorned with flags and colorful banners, and also the forum and the palace up on the promontory were embellished. Crowds roamed peacefully through the streets and squares, and we could hear the enthusiastic clamor of the spectators in the hippodrome. But all that was not for us, intrepid journeymen, but to welcome the imminent arrival of the new King, Agrippa.

  Once again, by the desire of most of my colleagues — and not to my liking — it was decided to stay in the city for a few more days, so that everyone could fully recover from the afflictions of the trip, and since no one could find any lodging nearby, we all ended up staying at my house.

  Later in the day, as we went to the temple to give thanks for the safe journey, I could not help noticing that the building itself was as colorless and barren as usual, with no signs of any adornments. It was also noticeable how tense were some of the priests and functionaries, waiting for the arrival of a delegation from the Sanhedrin who was coming from Jerusalem to formally welcome the new monarch. According to the usual rumors that always precede such momentous affairs, this delegation counted with some very important officials, maybe, even the Nasi himself. And right there, once more not to my liking, it was decided to wait for their arrival, and at the same time, we would take the opportunity to express our personal thanks to the King for his intervention.

  Again, I had once more to wait for others, suddenly aware that waiting had actually been the main task of that delegation. Restless with all the festivities going on around me, I took to the hippodrome. I had always liked chariot racing, and I could get as aroused and fanatic as the more fiercer supporters, and I enjoyed gambling. I knew that it was frowned on by most of the community, but even Isaac did it sometimes, and he was a much more devout man that I, so why couldn’t I do it too? And besides, I never spent large sums with such fickle addictions.

  Eventually, the delegation arrived and so did Gamaliel, who was leading it. Although it was not easy, we managed to have a quiet conversation on the following afternoon.

  “Ahasver, tell me about your trip, and of Joseph. How goes our dear friend? And also about those friends of our friend and what they are up to" he asked with some malice in his eyes.

  I told him about the journey, by land and sea, of my impressions with the cities we had passed, the different customs and finally about Joseph.

  “Rabban, I do have a letter for you from Joseph, but I can tell you that I found him in health and in an amiable disposition. But still very much involved with the Messianics.”

  “I can believe it. Joseph always struck me as a man of strong passions. Although it’s still a mystery to me why he embraced that faith.”

  “And they? Still preaching in Jerusalem too?”

  “Yes, more than ever, I’m afraid. Endeavoring to convince people about their messiah and his promises of an ever lasting life in the beyond. Just nonsense. And in Antioch? Are they also preaching these same messages?”

  “Yes, Rabban. But not so much in the streets anymore, now they have their temple, an ecclesia, as they call it. They are becoming totally Hellenized. Even Joseph has difficulties with some Aramaic words. They also seemed very pleased with themselves. Allegedly they have managed to convert quite a lot of people.

  “Yes, I had heard some rumors from our community there.”

  “Are they also converting people in Jerusalem?”

  “We hear of it. They have a temple there, you said?”

  “Yes, Rabban.”

  “They are really evolving as a separate religion now. But you know, here in Jerusalem most of the converts are former Essenes. For these it’s easier, since they already have some common beliefs. After all, there are some who still claim that their messiah was an Essene.”

  “What about the other Judaean groupings? The Saducees and the Pharisees.”

  “There was Nicodemus, you know him?”

  “The merchant?”

  “Yes. We eventually expelled him from the Council. And this time I managed to do it discreetly, with no trial, and he left for Damascus. A loss for us, unfortunately.”

  “So Joseph was not an exception.”

  “Certainly not, just the first one. But you know, Ahasver, I am still amazed that this cult remains so active after all these years since the death of their leader. They are proving to be very resilient, these Messianics.”

  “What could explain that?”

  “There must be several factors, surely. But I would say that the main reason is probably this stubborn tenacity, or fanaticism, in spreading their messages and recruiting adherents. Plus they are relatively peaceful, when you think of it. Most other Messianic movements ended in violence.”

  “I think it is also due to their simple creed, their sayings are fairly straightforward and thus popular with the less educated. And let us not forget their alleged miracles.”

  “What miracles?” asked Gamaliel.

  “They are constantly talking about miracles. Their messiah cured the sick and the lepers, raised some dead and, of course, we mustn’t forget his own resurrection.”

  “Yes, I heard of that resurrection. I do believe that it was at that point that Joseph went over to them. Didn’t he ever explain to you what made him a believer in this sect ?”

  “He did mention that it was some force, something within him that drove him to them.”

  “Yes, he told me something similar too.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense, Rabban.”

  “Sometimes, I think that nothing makes much sense these days.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Well, very little, almost nothing…” he concluded with a sad grin.

  The arrival of Agrippa took most of the town into the vicinity of the port. Thousands lined the thoroughfares and filled the piers to watch him disembark from a golden trireme — allegedly the Emperor’s own ship. Received and escorted by the military and his retinue, he first went to the forum where the Roman Prefect was waiting for him. After the usual formal greetings and the platitudes of such events, Marullus said his farewells to the crowd and departed on that same day for Rome. Amidst all the noise and joy of the populace, we were now free from Roman dominion.

  After the departure of the Prefect, Agrippa made a short speech where he expressed his satisfaction for fina
lly being at home, mentioning also how honored we all should feel with the decision of the Emperor to grant us our freedom, confident that from now on the Judaeans would know how to govern themselves justly. He briefly recalled the history of the city, founded by his grandfather Herod, assuring all that Caesarea would remain a place of tolerance, where everyone was welcome, not just Judaeans, but also Romans, Greeks, Syrians, Egyptians and any and all who came in peace. He finished this discourse by reaffirming to be a devout Judaean, a dutiful follower of the Mosaic Laws, and announced that he would soon go to Jerusalem to sacrifice in the Temple and to give his thanks to the Lord for all that He had now bestowed on his people.

  It was obvious by the clamor of the crowds that Agrippa had truly pleased them, and was now very popular, seen as the main responsible for our new found independence. This satisfaction was also evident in the faces of us all who now followed the cortege up to the palace, as it had been confirmed that Agrippa would see us on that very same day.

  Herod’s palace was set up on a promontory south of the harbor. It was a magnificent Greek-inspired building, almost sculptured in white stone and marble, and topped by a bright red tiled roof supported by Corinthian adornments and details. On one of its sides there was also a luxuriant garden filled with palms, orange and pomegranate trees, and a very large pool surrounded by an elegant colonnade amidst innumerable statuary.

  It was in these lush grounds that we were received by the King.

  Agrippa was a typical Herodian of dark complexion, just like his Idumean ancestors, and looked very much like his revered grandfather, or so some claimed. He received us in a resplendent gown of silvery cloth, wearing a richly embroidered toga in Tyrian purple, a sign of royalty in those days. He welcomed us in fluent Greek and broad smiles — in that, someone remarked, he was not at all like his grandfather.

  Gamaliel, as Nasi of the Sanhedrin, was the first to speak — also in Greek, as we had been advised to do since it was known that Agrippa spoke very poorly our own Aramaic — rendering the usual courtesies due to a royal personage. He also thanked the King for his timely intervention in regards to the issue of the Roman statue and pointed us out as the delegation who had been sent to Antioch. Agrippa thanked the Sanhedrin and confirmed once more his intention to visit Jerusalem as soon as possible.

  Other delegations, mostly from the city, also intervened, and dusk was imminent when we finally left the palace and returned to the celebrating city. And although the merriment and the festivities would go on for several more days, we set off for Jerusalem with some speed. It was now urgent to organize the reception for Agrippa in the holy city.

  After an absence of more than five months, I was quite emotional when I once again embraced my family and friends at home. Ruth had prepared a small reception, and Yeshua, my son, in a melodious voice almost free of puberty, sang a beautiful song of welcome and appreciation for my safe return. Five months away and all seemed fresh and also familiar. The pergola on the terrace greener and more lush, the house brighter, the servants more solicitous and the son more adult. It was good to be home.

  The next few days were days of many stories. All wanted to know about the journey, the places where I had been, the different people I had met, how they lived and what they did for a living, also what they ate — I was now the intrepid traveler, an explorer of land and sea.

  But soon enough the affairs of ordinary days soon took care of the routine.

  In my various incursions into the city, I could see how little it had changed. It was still dusty, dirty, hot, cluttered with numerous and never ending construction works, and also the constant flux of pilgrims, clear signs of a forthcoming holiday. True, I could not see as many Romans as before, but they still maintained a garrison on the Antonia fortress, and many still paraded themselves up on the Temple’s cloisters, where I found myself searching for Nazarenes.

  Joseph had asked me to deliver to them a bundle of letters and even some manuscripts. It was not exactly the pleasantest of tasks for me, but I could not refuse it either. And soon enough I spotted a few of them under the south colonnade, clearly distinguished by their ever shabby attire.

  Asking for Cephas, James or Simeon — those were the names that Joseph had mentioned — I was subject to a short interrogation, and had to give my name and explain the reason for my search. Almost reluctantly, they informed me that only Cephas was in the city at the moment, and I could find him there in the following morning.

  And again we met. Luckily he did recognize me, for he had aged so much that I would not have been able to do the same. It had been more than five years since we had last seen each other, and this Cephas had very little in common with that robust and determined man I had met before. He was now ascetically thin with an almost entirely white beard and nearly hairless. And more than his appearance, his voice had also changed. It was now more portentous, almost like an orator, with the same intensity that I so admired in the speakers of Antioch when they proffered those allocutions of rhetoric and philosophy.

  “Brother Ahasver! May peace be with you always” he greeted me ,while embracing as if we were long lost friends, under the curious scrutiny of his other brothers.

  I replied with similar courtesies. I had always liked Cephas and his humble and kind disposition, and we gradually separated from his other brethren.

  “Cephas, I have brought from Antioch some messages for you from Joseph.”

  “Master Ahasver, when brother John told me last night about your enquiry, I immediately thanked our Messiah, for I had thought that you were now ready to convert to our faith. We have all been looking so much forward to it.”

  His tone of voice, more tuned for preaching than for intimate talk, brought his brothers back, as they heard of conversion.

  “Cephas, how wrong you are still. After all this time and you still keep your hopes. Well, let me tell you that I am here just to bring these, as I said” and I handed him the parcel as I prepared to walk away.

  “Master Ahasver, I apologize for my enthusiasm, but may we talk for just a moment?” indicating to the others to leave us, “I assume that you don’t want to be seen with us, so maybe we could talk over there, by that column.”

  “Only if it’s not about my conversion…”

  “No, I just wanted to ask how did you find brother Joseph and our congregation of Antioch. I’m sorry, but it’s just that we haven’t received any communication from them for a while now.”

  “I am sure that you’ll find what you are looking for in these letters.”

  “Yes, I do hope so, but tell me, did you see our temple? Is it large?” he hastily asked, afraid that I would leave before he had a chance to question me further.

  I did tell him what little I knew. He listened avidly, eyes reflecting the fervor and the anxiety of the devoted and the obsessed. And as I spoke he would almost involuntarily utter praises and thanks to the Lord. I don’t know if they did it instinctively or to annoy us, but for a Judaean, the mere invocation of the Lord’s name was never to be used lightly. To associate the most sacred of names in mundane dialogue and attach it to their messiah, was true heresy and hard to hear without some repulsion.

  No wonder they would go on persecuting them.

  Years 42 - 43

  The advent of the harvest festival also brought the visit of King Agrippa to the holy city. This was the appropriate time for grand ceremonies and gestures, not forgetting that our first Temple was dedicated by King Solomon during this same feast. Aware of our traditions, Agrippa followed all the traditional rituals and even offered a heavy chain of pure gold, previously given to him by the Emperor, to be part of the korban of the Temple. As a member of the Sanhedrin, I attended most of the ceremonial events of that week, personally witnessing how popular the King had become amongst the masses and even with the priestly class.

  We now had, finally, a King who had ended the tyrannical rule of the Romans, and some even started to call him a messiah. Not to my liking, considering all th
at had happened before to those who claimed such epithet.

  Agrippa was an astute politician, and he took several actions to ingratiate himself with the population in general, but he also cared for more personal interests, starting with the Saducees to whom he now gave the high priesthood, replacing Theophilus with Simon Cantheras, a very old and prosperous member of the Boethus family. With this appointment, Gamaliel asked to be relieved of the presidency of the Council, but Agrippa refused to accept it.

  But I did leave the Council, and my recommendation that Isaac should succeed me was accepted. It was now time for another of father Simon’s sons to distinguish himself.

  Isaac, initially elated with his appointment, eventually turned out to be an ungrateful brother. A few months later he was complaining of the time he was wasting in endless meetings for no practical purposes.

  I was now forty years-old, almost wealthy and a respected member of the community. I was the unofficial owner and manager of a business that had spread to the main cities of the Levant. We now traded primarily in grain, wine and cloth, and the nature of our activities had made our establishment in Caesarea the largest of all, even supplanting Jerusalem. So, I decided to move to this city, increasingly wealthier and more relevant politically, as the King’s court held residence there for most of the year.

  Also, not withstanding the efforts of Agrippa to soothe and contain the various religious groups, the intrigues and quarrels were on the increase in Jerusalem, especially the ones perpetrated by the Zealots who now focused their unrelenting fury on the Nazarenes, Essenes and disbelievers in general.

  In that respect, Caesarea was much more tranquil given its more heterogeneous population, made up mostly of Gentiles from the various provinces of the empire. It also benefited from a milder climate, a very busy port and the proximity of the fertile plain of Sharon where most of the city’s produce was grown. The plurality of its citizens also meant that the city was very liberal in terms of religiosity, with none of the impediments inherent to Jerusalem. There were numerous festivals, mostly of pagan origin, and a much used hippodrome where famous charioteers came to dispute large rewards and glory. And for those less intrepid, there were also the more amenable plays and dances, held regularly in the theatre and the agora.

  I knew that, for Ruth and Yeshua, the first months would be cruel. They were leaving Jerusalem, their friends and their routines, but soon they would adjust and easily make new acquaintances and develop new interests. At this time, Yeshua was already helping me with the simpler chores at the emporium, and he tenaciously dedicated himself to improve his skills in koine and latin, soon losing the slang and guttural accents of Jerusalem.

  My reputation as a businessman and a former member of the Sanhedrin, propelled us to the highest echelons of the city, not just among the Judaean community, but also with the Greeks and the Syrians. The anonymity that I had always preserved in Jerusalem was now impossible to maintain. Unlike the holy city, the elites of Caesarea did not originate from religious or ancestral reputation, but rather from culture and prosperity. It was not strange then that I was often invited to become a member of the city council, but I always refused, as I knew that such bodies had little sway and were largely ineffective.

  I confirmed my interest and delight with rhetoric and philosophy, acquired during my stay at Antioch, and I would go as often as possible to the agora to hear discourses and lectures of the works written by the Greeks Plato, Socrates and Epicurus, or by the Romans Cicero and Lucretius. In the theatre, I learned to savor the wonderful declamations of the poems of Virgil, Horatius and Ovid, to applaud the tragedies of Sophocles and to laugh with the comedies of Menander and Antiphanes.

  Unfortunately, Ruth did not share this passion for words, as she would call it, but Yeshua and Alexander, the son of Ioanis, usually accompanied me to these events, and eventually also became devoted admirers of the art of good speaking and better thinking. And with each new discovery, so increased my esteem for Hellenism, with the exception of their deplorable religion, based on a cadre of capricious gods who behaved as the weakest of humans, eternally seduced by the most profane vices of lust, jealousy and power. Compared with the rigidness and rectitude of our own millennial beliefs, the religions of the Greeks and the Romans always seemed to me as just another one of their tragedies.

  But nevertheless, in temple, our priests would advert us constantly about the pagans and their corruptive influence in our customs. We were instigated to zeal for our faith and to be aware of the corruption of our youth and the levity of the more voluble of us. We were also warned about the Nazarenes, recently arrived in the city in large numbers, and that these, although some would call them Judaeans, were our enemies and adversaries as they continued to preach heretical teachings within our own community. And there were many who defended a more intolerable stand against them. While the Gentiles were the lost children of Abraham, the Nazarenes were originally all Judaeans and owed their allegiance to the true faith and the Temple.

  There was also talk of new purges in Jerusalem, now with the King’s knowledge and patronage, seeking to end the preaching and remove the key leaders of the Nazarenes, either by banishment or by condemning them as heretics, and therefore subject them to harsher punishments.

  Yeshua, always precocious and with the curiosity natural to his age, sometimes asked me about the Nazarenes, and so did Alexander. And one day, both came to me to ask about the afterlife and what happens to us when we die.

  “What happens? What do you mean?" I asked intrigued by the question.

  “Yes, father. What happens to us?”

  “Well, when we die our spirit goes on to the sheol. And there it stays. It’s the land of nothingness and from where nothing ever returns. But surely you know this from your studies.”

  “All of us? The good and the bad go into the same place?” asked Alexander.

  “Yes, everyone.”

  “It that fair, father?”

  “Of course. But it is not the end. With the coming of the true messiah, we will all be judged for our deeds in life, and only then we will be released from the sheol.”

  “And that’s when the good people are rewarded?”

  “I don’t understand what’s all this about. As I have said, the true messiah will bring with him a new era of peace and prosperity for all, the living and the dead.”

  “Even for us, the nonbelievers, Ahasver?” asked Alexander once again.

  “All, Alexander. But Yeshua, you have surely read all about this. Why these questions now?”

  “Father, the Messianics claim that when we die the good people go to a different place from the bad ones. Some into the darkness of the earth and others rise to the light of heaven.”

  “Who said that to you?”

  “Master Mordechai.”

  “Your tutor in Jerusalem?”

  “Yes, father.”

  “Was he a Messianic?”

  “I don’t know. But he mentioned this several times.”

  “Did he ever speak of the coming of the messiah?”

  “Yes, father. He did, especially when we studied the sayings of Isaiah.”

  “Well, that time has not arrived, despite what the Messianics claim” and I was a bit more relieved that they had not discussed the preacher Yeshua.

  “We do not believe in messiahs, Ahasver.”

  “I know you don’t, Alexander.”

  “But we do have our own sheol, you know. It’s called Hades. And it has rivers in it, and a ferry also to take the spirits across to hell. But you have to pay a coin.”

  “What?" asked Yeshua.

  “My father told me. That’s why we have to place a coin in the mouth of the deceased, to pay for the ferryman.”

  “I would not pay! That’s complete nonsense and irrational. Who is foolish enough to pay someone to take him to hell?" asked Yeshua indignantly.

  I had to laugh ! I could see that someone was learning from those lectures in the agora. It certainly seemed
to be a total farce these beliefs of the Greeks when even children could detect their incongruence.

  Year 44

  In an environment of an ever growing religious antagonism, I was not surprised when some of the Nazarene leaders were jailed in Jerusalem, and the Sanhedrin called for their condemnation as heretics and punish them accordingly. Agrippa, at the time in Caesarea, in hearing of these arrests departed to Jerusalem, personally interested in questioning them. I believe that this sudden interest was more of a political nature than for religious reasons. Agrippa had recently being humiliated by the Romans when they forbade him to reinforce and extend the ramparts of Jerusalem, and in Tiberias he was also admonished by the Governor of Syria, Vibius Marcus. A personal campaign against heretics in the holy city would certainly be a popular gesture and even applauded by some of his critics, who had been complaining of his largesse towards some cities where he had funded the construction of temples to Roman divinities.

  In Caesarea, Agrippa’s departure, also motivated the more zealous to search for local Nazarenes, and some were caught and jailed to await trial. But the jailers were careless, and most of them escaped, raising suspicions of collusion amongst the local militia. Such sloppiness could only be explained as a sign of tolerance for their creed, as it was known that the majority of the Nazarenes were almost mendicants, and could hardly afford to bribe officials.

  Meanwhile in Jerusalem, the trials were quickly over, and based on the testimonials of several witnesses, James was convicted as one of the leaders of the Nazarenes in the city. The other prisoner, an old friend of mine, Cephas, mysteriously escaped, and without delay, Agrippa ordered this James to be executed by the sword, and the good news to be spread throughout the whole kingdom. On that same day, an ordinance was read in the forum in Caesarea, forbidding once and for all any more preaching of the sayings of Yeshua. Immediately, riots broke out in the seedier parts of town, and the Zealots, now under the cover of legality, once more started their persecutions in earnest. But the Nazarenes did not desist so quickly and, along with their preaching, they also started to augur divine punishments for their persecutors, including Agrippa and his minions.

  Despite the violence that kept sporadically erupting in town, our community was relieved with the position taken by Agrippa, and I believed that we were now seeing the final days of the Nazarene sect. Without a presence in the main cities, the brotherhood would eventually enter a final stage of clandestinity and would disappear just like it had happened before with all the other previous movements. If, on the one hand, it was something to rejoice, on the other, all I could think was of Joseph, unaware of these portentous events. I wondered if the sect would survive in the distant lands where they were already present.

  So I decided to write to him with these latest news. Certainly influenced by my recent penchant for philosophy, I even added some conjectures about the inevitable downfall of Messianism and recommended that he should reflect and ponder about his choice. With our new strong monarch leading the people and the faith, it was only a matter of time before Judaea was free from heretics and dissenters.

  Surely, Joseph would come to reason, and we would get him back into the path of righteousness.

  The return of Agrippa to Caesarea was once more triumphant, and this time the Judaean community was the more boisterous, out on the streets exalting the victory over the heretics and blasphemers, and loudly saluting the King as a true defender of the faith. The Gentiles, caught by surprise with all this unusual exuberance, also joined the festivities. I can say that I was extremely proud and also shared the moment and the joy enthusiastically, jubilant with all the clamor around us. I felt, at that particular moment, that we were really free and independent. I did not recall the time of King Herod, as I was too young to remember it, and all this patriotism was totally new to me, having been raised in a city always dominated by foreigners. I was not naive to think that the Romans were totally out of the picture, but at least, we now, more than ever, really had the fate of our people in our own hands. We could, and would again, be the chosen and free people of the Lord, united in our beliefs and in our own land.

  Those were days of pride and elation. I had not realized of how the Nazarenes had really affected me all this time. Although I hardly saw them now, they were always an annoying presence, a remote discomfort, especially as I was surrounded by Joseph’s belongings and remembrances, and his defection to their creed was a constant reminder of their insidiousness. And somehow, I also suffered pangs of guilt and some remorse for having supported them, even if involuntarily. And I pitied Joseph also, earnestly praying that somehow he would relinquish and return to the true faith.

  And suddenly, it all started to fall apart.

  What had been so far one of the happiest years of my life, would soon turn into a nightmare worthy of the most harrowing prophetic visions.

  It all began on a sunny and cloudless morning, with the distant sounds of enthusiastic crowds roaming the streets of the city. It was the first day of a festival offered by Agrippa to commemorate the anniversary of the Emperor Claudius, and the whole town was ecstatic with the number of exhibitions and activities programmed for those days, including the usual games and competitions, but also gladiator fights, horse and chariot races, allegorical marches and dances in the streets, and even laudatory discourses, plays, and declamations in the theatre. Agrippa, after having fallen out with his old friend Claudius, wanted now to make amends in the strongest way possible, unequivocally demonstrating his allegiance towards the empire, and for that, he didn’t care for expenses or effort.

  When we entered the hippodrome, on that first day of the festival, most of the seats were already taken by the clamorous crowds, and the excitement was palpable in anticipation of the races and games. Banners and flags of garish colors, pennants with patterns and military standards, all fluttered in the cool breeze of the early morning.

  In that immense space there were no factions. There were no Romans, nor Judaeans, nor Greeks, nor Syrians, nor Egyptians, we were all just spectators, all united by our lust for entertainment. And the booming reception given to Agrippa was the evidence of such union. As he entered the royal box, the whole hippodrome stood up, and the acclamation echoed for long minutes. I had never seen or heard such enthusiasm. I imagined myself in one of the great arenas of Rome, among frenzied multitudes saluting one of the mighty Emperors, rather than this King of one of the smallest protectorates of that vast empire.

  Agrippa was now, more than ever, the King of us all, the incarnation of our contentment, a dazzling figure, and not just in a figurative sense, but real, enveloped in a halo of light created by the sun’s reflection on his silvery garments.

  The spectacle began with dances, giving time for the spectators to settle down, and soon started the first fights. Initially these were wrestling matches, without any weaponry, where the nimbleness and skill of the fighters was rewarded with thunderous applause, flowery garlands and coins thrown into the sand. Then the races started. The first was the speed trials where the mastery of the riders over their horses brought shouts of encouragement and howls of pleasure, followed by the chariot races, my favorites.

  Once the second race was done, and the victorious Blues came to pay homage to Agrippa, a deep and low hum echoed throughout the stands, as the crowd noticed his absence. Although I was close to the royal box, I had been too immersed with the race to see him leaving, but someone confirmed that he had been gone for some time. It was strange. There were still some of the main attractions to come, especially the much anticipated fights that had brought some prominent gladiators to the city.

  “What is the problem, father?” asked Yeshua with all the impatience of a nineteen year-old.

  “The King has left the arena for some reason.”

  “Will the races stop now?” asked Alexander.

  “We have to wait and see.”

  “Father?”

  “Yes, Yeshua.”

  “Have you ever seen
a gladiators' fight before?”

  “I saw them practicing once in Antioch, but I haven’t yet seen a real fight.”

  “Ahasver is it true that they can be killed in these fights? The ones who lose?”

  “It depends. If they are wounded, they can be spared if they fought bravely. But some are killed, yes.”

  “Are they paid?” asked Yeshua “Or they fight because they are criminals?”

  “Both type. I would say. There are some who are freedmen, and others are slaves and criminals” I answered not too sure either.

  “Will there be animals too?”

  “What animals?”

  “Sometimes they fight animals. Lions, bears, father told me.”

  “Really?" asked Yeshua.

  “Where is your father, Alexander? Why didn't he come?”

  “He said he wasn’t feeling too well, but I think that mother didn’t want him to come" said Alexander smiling.

  “Why is that? He didn’t seem in bad health this morning.”

  “No, but he bets badly.”

  So the fights finally began as programmed, but without the usual salute to the King, as he had not returned. It was not a spectacle that I particularly enjoyed, but it certainly was one of the crowd’s favorites, with the shouting and the screaming increasing as the fights became fiercer amongst the Murmillones, the Retiarii and the Thracians, with these last carrying the day. But the boys certainly enjoyed it, given their shouting and restlessness.

  But something was wrong, and the audience could feel it too. While some continued to voice their enthusiasm, others started to question the unexpected absence of the King. Suddenly, faster than the gust of any breeze, the news spread that the King was unwell. And since no one knew exactly of the nature of his ailment, ignorance soon bred the most improbable rumors. A simple and plain indisposition. A light fever. Something that he ate. Food poisoning. Poisoned. Moribund. Dead. But in fact, nothing was disclosed at the time, and the crowds were now too restless to be appeased by mere gossip, and soon were calling for Agrippa, shouting his name and rising to their feet repeating incessantly for his return, until finally a tribune announced that the King was indisposed, and the games would continue.

  In the next few days, with no further news as to his health, groups were formed and informal delegations were sent to the palace to know of his condition, but little was disclosed, and all we knew is that he was still ill and abed, but the cause or the nature of his ailment was not known.

  The games still went on for the next two days, but with much less enthusiasm. The city was now averse to euphoria, and many gathered by the palace gates in search of fresh news and to pray for divine intervention. And the same went on in the pagan temples, where numerous animals were immolated for the pleasure and appeasement of the gods. With equal fervor, and the same purpose, we also gathered daily in the temple and even some priests were rushed to Jerusalem. But it was too late. On the same day that a delegation from the Sanhedrin arrived in Caesarea, it was announced that the King had died.

  It is not easy to describe in mere words the general feeling of us all in those days, but the signs of grief were all too evident throughout the city. While the Judaeans tore their vests and gowns in mourning, the pagans intoned mournful hymns and dressed themselves up in white or black vests, according to their own religious customs. Prayers were heard in temples, the agora and in the forum, and elegiac discourses were proffered with fervor and devotion. Priests were called to the palace, and the funereal preparations were quickly performed. According to the King's desire he was to be interred, in accordance with our own custom, in the mausoleum of the Herodes and a mourning period of ten days was decreed.

  During this time much was said and even more was rumored about his death, and the general opinion pointed to poisoning, given the state of decay of his body even before he was dead. But who could have done it? His natural successor and son was in Rome, and too young to be considered as a viable replacement, and so our suspicions tended towards the Romans.

  Soon enough we started to feel the lack of authority, and despite the attempts by some generals and officials to guarantee the continuity of government, the Romans began to challenge some of these measures and impose others of their own. During the period of official mourning, the tribune in charge of the garrison in the city began by restricting and limiting the assembly of large groups in the forum and the agora. Such measures, they claimed, were needed to guarantee the peace and the safety of all citizens.

  These actions did not put an end to the suspicions of the people who increasingly considered the Romans responsible for the king’s death, and I admit to being one of the many who also stood by this opinion and fearlessly voiced it to whoever was willing to hear it. I was genuinely concerned with our condition as a nation free from Roman rule.

  The more radical and extremist groups also spoke of divine intervention and punishment. Agrippa

  had been too lenient with the heathens, some claimed. The games had not been to the liking of the gods, said the frivolous. Also, that some had proclaimed him a god, and he had not refused the epithet. And, as if these were not sufficient, even the Nazarenes claimed that he was punished for killing one of the brothers of their messiah.

  Again the Romans took over. In an edict published in the forum, the Governor of Syria, Vibius Marcus, announced that the Emperor had now decreed that Judaea would become a Roman protectorate, and the Procurator in charge had already been appointed and would be arriving in Caesarea soon.

  We were, needless to say, inconsolable with this news.

  Only a month before we were a free people, governed by a just King, an adept of peace and tolerance, a faithful defender of our beliefs and customs, and now we were once again subjects of a pagan Emperor.

  It was no surprise that the news was received with deep despair, and while the Judaeans mourned the loss of its King and country, the other communities cautiously distanced themselves from us, fearful of our reaction and of the imminent risk of mutinies and rebellions.

  THE FATHER