Adas leaped into the saddle and urged the horse into a gallop. Jamin watched as the centurion rode away. He glanced at Lucius anxiously, but relaxed when the decurion spoke harshly to the legionaries. It wasn’t long before the centurion returned. Jamin sighed with relief when he dismounted. The centurion talked briefly with the decurion, thanking him for the use of his horse. The decurion ordered Falto to “present” his back so he could climb into the saddle. Adas frowned to see Falto on his hands and knees, knowing that normally only a slave would be expected to “back” a man into the saddle. Without a word, Cassius spun his horse around. Draco’s pounding hooves kicked bits of gravel at the legionaries as he sped away. The soldiers hurriedly turned their faces and waved off the cloud of dust.
Jamin had overheard the decurion and knew his brother’s suffering would soon end, but it would get much worse before it would be over. Falto picked up the hammer. Jamin couldn’t bear to watch Demas suffocate when he would no longer be able to push himself up to exhale. Instead, Jamin concentrated on the order to remove the bodies from the crosses as a blessing. Letting the corpse slowly disintegrate in public view was the epitome of scorn. A new thought occurred to him. If Demas had not surrendered himself when Yeshua said he needed to face the consequences of his crimes, he would have missed the high Sabbath. His body would have been left on the cross until it rotted away.
Lucius snatched the hammer from Falto and faced Adas. “Shall I finish the job for you, Centurion?” Lucius waited as he cradled the hammer in his hands.
Adas fixed a cold stare at Lucius. “Do you think I have never killed a man? I assure you, I have. What of it? It’s easy to take a life. The other thing is much more difficult.”
“What other thing?”
“To put life back into the dead.”
“Those tales are just superstitious rumors.”
“Perhaps, but what if on the third day, Yeshua does come back to life? Such a thing would change the world.”
Lucius curled his lip in disgust. “I don’t pay attention to the ranting of idiots and zealots. Anyone can say anything. It means nothing.”
Adas turned his attention back to the two thieves. “I find it disgraceful to kill a man who can’t defend himself. Since you’re holding the hammer, apparently you don’t mind, Legionary.” He was surprised to see Lucius’s face turn pale. Adas had unintentionally struck a nerve. He pressed the advantage as he eyed the scar on the legionary’s face. “So tell me, why did someone leave his signature on your face.”
Without warning, the memory of killing his own father possessed Lucius. He could still feel the gut-wrenching dread when they dragged Rufino Octavean into the arena, tied him to a post, and claimed he was caught stealing. Training Officer Junio thrust a spear in Lucius’s hands and ordered the eleven-year-old to execute the thief on the spot. Lucius begged his father to explain, but he remained silent. Rufino stood very still, watching Lucius with an expression the boy could not understand. The look on his father’s face would haunt Lucius for the rest of his life. When Lucius hesitated, the training officer shouted, “Octavean, I have given you a direct order! If you can’t obey then you are no use to me!” Lucius saw a blur of motion and a savage pain ran down the side of his face. He flinched, but held on to the spear. Again, Junio raised his dagger. “Obey me! Kill the thief or I’ll kill both of you!”
Just as quickly as the image had risen in his mind, it was gone. “Yes, I did a very brave thing when I earned this scar. I killed a thief. I obeyed my orders, as I will now.” Lucius stepped up to the central cross and hefted the hammer to his shoulder.
“Stop,” ordered Adas. “Not him. He’s already dead. He has been for hours.” Lucius lowered the hammer and peered into Yeshua’s still face.
Demas called out, “He guards all His bones; not one of them is broken.”
Jamin heard his brother, again, quote from Psalms. He whispered, “Like the lamb of Passover, the bones must never be broken.”
“I don’t care if he is dead,” said Lucius as he grabbed a spear. “Our orders were to make sure he’s dead so no one can question it later.” He faced the central cross and stepped forward. Suddenly, his face drained of color. He stumbled backwards and dropped the spear as if it were on fire. Lucius stared at something no one else could see. Someone was standing between him and the Nazarene’s cross. What he saw was impossible in so many ways.
“Octavean, what is the matter with you?” demanded Adas.
Hektor and Falto watched in bewilderment. The two men exchanged glances, silently confirming each was witnessing the same thing. Adas looked at the center cross, but nothing had changed. Thinking Lucius was in a fugue, Adas slapped him across the face.
“What is wrong with you?” Adas demanded again. Lucius didn’t answer. With no patience left, Adas hit him with a fist. Lucius staggered back and shook himself as if from a trance.
Adas picked up the spear, spun around, and thrust it deep into the Nazarene’s side. Immediately blood and water came out from the wound. There was no reaction from the lifeless body. Adas threw the spear to the ground and wheeled on the men. “Do you see this? You’ve seen it hundreds of times. That’s how we know a prisoner has died during the night. They always bleed water and blood from the heart when they’ve been dead for hours. He died right before the earthquake.”
Hektor muttered, “So, our fearsome lion cringes at stabbing a dead man.”
Overhearing the comment and desperate to save face, Lucius turned on him. The glazed look was gone. A silver fire had rekindled in the man’s eyes. “Watch yourself, Hektor. I have killed others for much less.”
Adas pulled a second wineskin from his knapsack filled with strong wine and herbs. He gestured at the older thief. “Octavean, give him some wine.” Then Adas addressed Jamin in Hebrew, “When he’s done, give your brother as much as he wants. It is potent wine. We will wait for it to take effect before we break their legs.”
Jamin didn’t try to hide his surprise. “You brought this wine for them, not yourself. Is it because Demas confessed?”
“No, they have already suffered enough.”
The three legionaries were barely able to hide their scorn. They kept their expressions neutral only because of the possibility of punishment, but they saw the centurion’s compassion as weakness. Lucius was beginning to understand the hatred Valentius had for Longinus.
Adas looked beyond his men and saw the agony of the women who stood clutching each other. They made him think again of his own mother. His last two letters to her had gone unanswered, yet nothing came from his father warning him of accident or illness. It was possible her letters were lost en route. He needed to be patient. Despite his self-assurances, his stomach twisted with a sudden knowledge that he would never see her again. All the ways he could be killed paraded through his mind. Lucius’s belligerent behavior could be based on orders from someone else, which meant he had a more powerful enemy. Life was unpredictable. His own men could turn on him and it wouldn’t matter if they were executed. He would be dead.
Chapter 4
Adas reached for the cord he always wore around his neck under his tunic. The cord was attached to a pouch that carried a treasure virtually beyond price. It was a pearl, the most costly gemstone in the world. Adas believed the pearl was a miracle in itself. After attending to an official errand in Jericho, Adas came upon several men beating an old Hebrew man on the outskirts of town. He ran his horse into the melee, forcing the attackers to flee in different directions. The old man, beaten about the head and chest, was seriously wounded, but conscious. Adas put him on his horse and took the man to his home. Despite being against Jewish law, the old man invited Adas, a Gentile, into his home. The servants attended to the man’s wounds, propped him up in bed, and brought wine to both men.
The room was furnished in a comfortable but simple manner. There were several wood and reed chairs set against a wall. The bed was