CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX.

ASSASSINS

The Centurion awoke as James entered his room.

“Master, something serious has happened. There’s a soldier outside. He’s caked with blood and dust and will only speak with you.”

Tullus got to his feet and was immediately alert.

“Send him in.”

When the soldier entered, he recognised him instantly as one of the Tribune’s guard.

“You’re soaked in blood! Are you all right?” was the Centurion’s first reaction.

“It’s the blood of the wounded, sir,” came the blunt reply, after which he quickly told his story. The Tribune and his guard had sustained a brief but vicious attack from bandits – or Jewish Zealots, some believed.

“They repeatedly assailed the person of the Tribune, but the wall of shields around him did not break and he remained untouched. The attackers did not stand to do battle. They had no stomach for a fight, for as soon as we advanced they fled!”

“Hired assassins!” The Centurion shot the words out quickly. “The Jewish Zealot would have stood his ground – you said you formed a wall of shields; you acted quickly!”

“It was difficult country, sir; we were on foot and on full alert. Also, we received a warning.”

“A warning!” the Centurion repeated.

“Yes, sir – a young lad in his early teens – some of the men wanted to question him, but the Tribune let him go.”

“When did you get the warning?”

“In the morning after we left, sir.”

“Where was the boy from?”

“Here, sir, Capernaum.”

“Did he say who sent him?”

“A friend – he was told to say – the Tribune didn’t press him.”

“He wouldn’t. How many casualties?”

“Twelve wounded. The big man’s badly hurt.”

“Shielding his master, I suppose.”

“Yes, sir. They think he’s going to be all right.”

“Where did this happen?”

“Near Ramah, sir. The Jewish physician there helped with the wounded – a gift from the gods!”

“You’ll need replacements.”

“The Tribune hoped for twelve at least.”

“Were the enemy numerous?

“Difficult to say, sir – about the same as us. They only lost four men, so they could strike again.”

“They will – assassins don’t get paid unless they get their man. Is Titus all right?”

“Yes, sir – his defensive formation saved us.”

“The noble Tribune has a gift for picking men of worth. Well, my friend, you’d better get some rest as we’ll be leaving soon,” Tullus concluded, dismissing the soldier with a nod.

The energy given by the emergency filled the Centurion with a false strength, and at once he decided to lead the relief force himself – only two tent parties, alas, the most the depleted garrison could afford. He would also take two of his expert scouts. They could prove useful and would bring the number up to eighteen men.

James protested vigorously when he heard his master’s plan.

“Another knock on the head will finish you!” But he could see that Tullus was resolved. “I’m coming with you, then!” he added defiantly.

“No, James! You’re needed here. There are spies and criminals abroad in the town. Keep your eyes and ears open, but be careful.”

“What about the big man, Master?”

“I doubt very much that he’s involved.”

“I agree.”

“James.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Tell our friend Felix to take an escort with him when he goes wandering in the town.”

“He’ll be all right, Master. He’s one of the blessed.”

“You’ve said that before.”

The Galilean nodded curtly.

“What do you mean, James?”

“Felix is blessed; you, Master are blessed; your beautiful lady is blessed. All who have felt the Rabbi’s love are blessed.”

Master and servant looked at each other, united by an inner language.

Drusilla was shocked when the Centurion told her the news and when he revealed his plans. She knew, like James, that her protests would be fruitless.

“Promise me that you’ll protect yourself against the jarring of the cart.”

“I’ll float myself on feathers,” he joked as he embraced her, but the instructions he gave were precise and practical.

As long as Pilate’s wife remained they could stay at the Ben Josephs’. Once Calpurnia left, however, they were to transfer to his quarters at the garrison. He was taking eighteen men, and the remaining soldiers could not adequately protect both the villa and the garrison, but while Calpurnia and her guard remained the villa was perfectly secure.

“I’m leaving the garrison in the charge of the veteran Atticus – he’ll take no chances. For as you know, Cornelius is on his way to Caesarea to receive his promotion.”

“You forgot to tell me, Marcus.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Will he be leaving the garrison?”

“No! He’s to be the new Centurion – that’s the recommendation.”

“What is Miarcus Tullus going to do?”

“Grow grapes!”

Tullus left Capernaum by mid-afternoon, when the heat was still intense. Soon he was asleep, bobbing on the cushions Drusilla had insisted he should take against the jolting of the cart.

Before he had left Capernaum another messenger had arrived with a second scroll from Antioch. Tullus had scanned the text briefly, noting it contained further details concerning the inquiry, and had decided it was something he could study on the journey. It would help to keep him awake, he thought. So after an hour of fitful dozing it was the first thing he turned to.

The details of the proposed inquiry were routine and predictable, though the tone had changed. The reason for this was clear at the end of the message. The date of the inquiry had been brought forward on the recommendation of Rome, and was now fixed for early in August. This time there was no polite apology.

He had received two despatches from Antioch in one day; the first by the leisurely way of Caesarea; the second in haste and direct. Tullus was puzzled. Why was the matter suddenly urgent? Who was behind it? He did not think either Lamia or the Emperor, and if it was Sejanus, why? Why would Sejanus be interested in the timing of an army inquiry at Caesarea?

The Tribune was surprised to see the Centurion, though grateful for his counsel. Like Tullus, he anticipated a further attack, but was heartened by his friend’s advice. Tullus knew the road to Ptolemais like the streets of Capernaum. The ambush points were predictable, and he had brought two of his best scouts.

“The assassins have lost the advantage,” Tullus maintained.

“Assassins is the right word, for they were clearly out to get me. It was very obvious.”

“Their paymaster is getting desperate,” the Centurion said quietly.

“Maybe Gallo over-confident!” Valerius returned.

“Or Sejanus over-anxious!”

“Marcus, you said the inquiry had been brought forward. I wonder why.”

“Yes, I wonder,” Tullus echoed, his head bent reflectively. “I’ve got it,” he added, looking hard at the Tribune. “You’re one of those listed to be at Caesarea for the inquiry.”

Valerius nodded.

“You can’t be in two places at one time!”

“I’m sorry about the inadequacy.”

“You’re behaving like your sister. No, I’m serious. The change of the inquiry date could be a ploy to keep you out of Antioch at the crucial time.”

“Gallo will be at the inquiry.”

“Yes, and it’s a point against my theory, but not a vital point, I think, for as long as you’re not there Gallo may feel happy to leave things to his friends. If I were you, I’d plead the impossibility of attending the inquiry and delay the message till the very last moment. Gallo would never suspect your studied absence. On the contrary, he’d expect you to speak for your Capernaum friend against his inevitable attack.”

“I think my Capernaum friend may well need the testimony of the Emperor’s personal legate,” Valerius returned in his quick, staccato way.

“You can send a written statement. Anyway, Titus will be there. The issue at Antioch is too important to be deflected by the discomfiture of one elderly Centurion.”

The Tribune made no reply. Nonetheless, his mind was busy.

“But, Marcus, why bother with the inquiry date when they planned to kill me?”

“The assassins are the creatures of Gallo, and the new inquiry date the idea of Sejanus – that could explain it.”

“It could,” Valerius nodded thoughtfully, “and if true, Sejanus would have made his recommendation before knowing of your rescue – for it’s less than ten days since we marched into Jericho.”

“Oh, I don’t come into it,” Tullus reacted. “It’s you they want to stop.”

“I suppose so,” Valerius returned, his voice listless. He looked drawn, Tullus thought, like someone laughter had deserted. “I’m worried about Venio,” he continued, “even though the Jewish physician says he will recover. I don’t like leaving him.” He sighed wearily, while leaning forward, his arms resting on his knees. Then, with a new resolve, he stood up.

“We’d better call Titus and plan tomorrow’s march. And there’s the question of the warning we received. It seems we have a secret friend in Capernaum.”

“And enemies,” Tullus responded. “I’ve asked James to watch and listen.”