Lucius wiped the back of his hand under his chin, smearing his blood. His face was crimson with rage. The veins in his neck protruded. His thick shoulders heaved as he panted, barely able to restrain himself. “I will have you arrested for this!”
“Do that! Caiaphas will explain to Pilate how Yeshua’s followers paid you to steal the body, and then you extorted bribes from the Sanhedrin by threatening to report that Yeshua miraculously resurrected. What a clever scheme to play both sides against the other, and double your profits. Do you think Pilate will believe Caiaphas or you?”
“Why don’t you kill the other two and take their share of the money!” Lucius said, trying to see over his shoulder. He wondered what was taking Falto and Hektor so long to return. He gestured at Adas. “Leave this one to me. If he lives, his testimony will get us all in trouble.”
“It is for his testimony I protect him. He is why I am here. You said, ‘Let him talk about angels and earthquakes.’ Why would he tell such a story if it was a lie, yet not demand a bribe? Most curious, I think. As for you, you’re drunk. I am not. I am armed. You are not. Leave now!”
Lucius knew retreat was his only option, especially since Falto and Hektor were nowhere in sight. Malchus stepped back and lowered his sword. Lucius grabbed his knapsack. He eyed his sword, but Malchus shook his head.
“This isn’t over! You will pay for this,” Lucius retreated along the garden path. At the gateway, he turned and shouted, “You want the centurion? You can have him! But some day, I’ll have you on a cross just like your precious Messiah!” Lucius stumbled out of the garden.
Malchus shook his head. “You ignorant fool. The teaching of that ‘precious Messiah’ is what stopped me from killing you.”
The moon had risen in the east even though the sun still hovered above the western horizon. Malchus knelt beside the unconscious Roman. “You’d better have some incredible answers or I have forfeited my life for nothing.” He saw the coin pouch and picked it up. He retrieved the eilat stone, and the coins, and dropped them in the pouch. He reattached the pouch to the centurion’s belt. Malchus heard footsteps and whirled around, sword in hand.
Jamin shouted, “We mean you no harm! I am Jamin and this is Cleopas. We’re here to help you with—him.”
“We have to hurry. The soldiers may return soon,” said Cleopas. “And when they do, they will not be happy.”
“We saw you hiding on the hilltop,” Jamin said. “Why are you here?”
“My name is Malchus and I came here to find this one,” He jerked his head at Adas. “I want to know what happened here today. The tomb is empty, and I think he knows why.”
“We want to talk with him as well,” said Jamin. “So let’s get him out of here.”
“Agreed. They will be shutting the city gates soon. The sun is almost set.” Malchus took his robe off and threw it over Adas, hiding his armor. “Be watching. The other two soldiers may come back.”
“I don’t think so,” said Cleopas. “They were really drunk and . . .”
“. . . and they’re resting right now,” interrupted Jamin.
Malchus looked from one to the other. “What did you do?”
“Nothing—much,” muttered Jamin.
Malchus grinned. “Come on, get his arms and I’ll get his legs.” They lifted Adas off the ground and started down the garden path.
“Where should we go?” asked Jamin. “I hope somewhere close. He’s heavier than he looks. Our friend, Peter, is staying nearby. Surely, they will allow us to bring this Gentile into the house under the circumstances.”
Malchus hesitated. “Do you mean Simon Peter, the fisherman?”
“Yes. You know him?”
“We’ve met. Perhaps it would be best if we go to my quarters instead. It’s not far, either. And there’s no one at the estate tonight.” They left the garden and hurried along the road.
Chapter 9
The temple guard led them to the estate of the high priest. Malchus lived in a small house in the back corner of the grounds. Jamin, Cleopas, and Malchus carried Adas into the limestone block house. It had a tile floor and two latticed windows too high to see through, but they could convey a breeze. The sparse furnishings included a single bed butted against the wall.
“Over here,” Malchus instructed. “Put him on the bed.” Malchus barred the door. He lit his oil lamps with an ember. The light gently waltzed with the shadows on the limestone walls.
Malchus carried a lamp over to the bedside table. “Jamin, there’s water in the jug on the cabinet and bring the towels. Cleopas, get the jug of vinegar and the olive oil from the cabinet.”
Jamin brought the water jug and cloths. “Should we take his armor off and what about his caligae? He looks too young to be a centurion. I thought the Romans were meticulous about granting titles.”
“Perhaps not always,” Malchus said. “Leave his caligae. He’s not going to be here long enough to get comfortable. But we should get the armor off.”
They discussed his hand injury, but decided to treat the head and neck wounds first. They unfastened the leather straps connecting the two metal plates of armor and set them on the floor.
“Cleopas hold a lamp on the other side of the bed,” said Malchus. He tilted Adas’s head and inspected the wounds. “Apparently, the rock tore this gash. It’s a good thing it didn’t hit his eye. There will be a lot of bruising but he’ll live.”
Malchus washed the blood from Adas’s hair, face, and neck. He patted the wounds with a fresh cloth. “Cleopas put the cloth over his eye.” Carefully, Malchus poured vinegar on the injury. Adas groaned as he clamped his teeth together.
“I should have put something between his teeth. This gash must be deeper than I thought. Hold the light here, Jamin.” Malchus indicated the laceration under the jaw and poured vinegar on it. Adas made a low growl.
“He even sounds like a wolf,” said Jamin. Malchus and Cleopas threw him puzzled looks. “When you see his eyes, you’ll understand.”
Adas moaned again. “He’s trying to come around. That’s a good sign.”
“We should look at his hand,” said Jamin. “This wound must be fresh.” He carefully unwound the cloth. “These cuts are deep.” Holding Adas’s hand away from the bed, he poured water over the wound. He removed the seal ring and cleaned it. “Look at this. His seal is a wolf. That makes perfect sense.”
Malchus frowned. “Why?”
“You’ll see,” said Jamin. He dried the ring off and put it back on Adas’s hand. Malchus picked up a lamp and held it closer to the wound.
“It’s a cross,” said Cleopas, peering over Malchus’s shoulder. “This wasn’t an accident. Do you think the big soldier did this?”
“No,” said Malchus. “When I realized the legionaries were heading for the garden, I took a short cut and got there just before they did. His hand was already bandaged. If they did this to him before they left, he wouldn’t have still been there when they got back. Whoever did it, I’d like to know why.” He took a small towel and folded it several times. Carefully, he worked the cloth between Adas’s teeth. He picked up the jug of vinegar. “This stuff should stop the bleeding. Jamin, take hold of his fingers and thumb.”