Valerius and Samara gazed at the temple’s smoking ruins. Rufus and Flavius stared at the empty fiber-and-pitch water buckets scattered through the plaza. Philippus, one of the quaestores, said, “The bucket brigade arrived too late to accomplish much of anything.”
Valerius swore under his breath. He had tried to get the Senate to send Jerusalem some of the pump wagons that were used to such great effect in other cities, yet he was turned down on the grounds of budget cuts. He had told his staff to look into outfitting some of the city’s drinking water wagons with pumps for fighting fire. Too late.
“Was anyone hurt?”
“There were four people in the upper rooms when the fire broke out, and they leapt to safety after some local cloth merchants drew some wagons loaded with mattresses and fabric into the street.”
“Roman merchants?”
“Hebrew.”
Squeezing Valerius’ hand, Samara whispered, “See? Our people tried to help. Hebrews could not have started that fire.”
“Quiet,” he said, looking at her suspiciously. “You’ve admitted your rebel sympathies to me. I’ll deal with you later.”
He turned to Philippus. “This was a marble temple, and marble doesn’t burn easily. What caused the temple’s pillars and walls and floors to disintegrate?”
“Hay bales. Witnesses said that the lower sanctuary had been loaded full of them. They burned at such high temperatures that the marble turned to powder. Unfortunately the ceiling beams were cedar, and they ignited quickly.”
“Who do you have in custody?”
“No one yet. I have magistrates going door to door in the Hebrew quarter. Oh, and one thing: a witness said he saw a man with long dark hair laughing at the fire. The man told the witness that the fire was started by something – or someone – called the Irgun.”
“Where is the witness and this man?”
“We have the witness in custody, but he’s not been able to tell us anything more. The dark-haired man is nowhere to be found.”
“The Irgun. I’ve heard that name. Investigate it and find out whether it’s some kind of Hebrew terrorist group. Send officers into the Syrian, Arab and Egyptian neighborhoods as well. Round up everyone who’s even been accused of sedition in the last few years. We’ll find out who’s responsible. Flavius, work with Philippus and the quaestores in setting up interrogations of the people you drag in.”
Flavius nodded eagerly. “Glad to, sir!” He turned to the quaestores.
“And Flavius!” Valerius said. “Try not to gloat.”
Valerius was seething. Now he’d have to admit that Flavius had been right all along.
Valerius gripped Samara’s upper arm and dragged her aside.
“Have you been deceiving me all along? Are you responsible for this arson?”
“I had nothing to do with it, I swear.”
“Then who did it?”
“I told you – I don’t know. I’ll admit I know every Hebrew radical in the city. Yet I’m sure none of them did this.”
“You know all the radicals in the city? You never told me that. Why do you know them?”
She was sweating, yet defiant. “Since you Romans took away my Caleb, I’ve been doing what I can to make trouble for you.”
“Caleb? Your Caleb, you call him? The horse poisoner?”
“Yes. I’ve paid for a hundred little harassments over the past ten years.”
“Like the food shipments that were hijacked? Wagon wheels falling off?”
She nodded, and added with a laugh, “Geese stampeding through your ceremonies.”
“You laugh, do you? How about hay loaded into the sanctuary of the Hera Temple? You’re good at violating sanctuaries.”
“No! I never did anything that might seriously injure people.”
“Well, now someone has shown us a threat, all right. Who are the Irgun?”
She bit her lip. “I’ve heard of them, but I don’t know who they are.”
“I thought you said you know all the Hebrew radicals.”
“I swear I never met anyone calling themselves the Irgun.”
”What’s next? Where are these radicals going to strike? Tell me!”
“Aren’t you listening? I told you I’ve no idea.”
In low tones, he growled, “You must know that I can’t afford to believe you. I’ll get to the truth, one way or another. Flavius!”
His second-in-command pulled away from the quaestores. “Yes, sir?”
“Put Samara beth Isaac under guard in a dungeon room in the garrison.”
“Yes, sir. Is she to be questioned, sir?”
“I’ll take care of that later. Just keep close watch on her. She’s wily.” He turned to her again. “Tell me something that might help me. Give me the names of the Hebrews you hired to harass us.”
She gazed at him defiantly, saying nothing.
This is surely the end for us, he thought. If she’s a terrorist, it could be the end of her life. And this uprising could take away my office, and my life as well.
“Take her away.”
“I’ve come to talk to you, Aspergus, not to your sordid little mutt.”
“You don’t have to be rude, Legate,” said Aspergus, handing his fluffy Maltese to a servant and saying, “Take my little lovey away.”
Aspergus settled into a well-upholstered chair while Valerius remained standing and said, “Aspergus, I’m sure you know why I’m here. Senator Tullius ordered me to report to you if there were any signs of serious insurrection here.”
“Do you have enough of a sign now?” Aspergus asked through the smile that looked falser than ever to Valerius.
“I can’t tell who did it,” said Valerius, “nor how many of them there were, nor what they might do next, if anything. For all I know, this was the single act of some pack of lunatics who lack the resources to do anything more.”
“A naïve notion, Legate. It took manpower and know-how to destroy that temple. It’s time for you to admit that you’re over your head here. Are you going to call in the troops from Rome yourself now, or shall it be done by special order of the senate?”
“Tell Tullius to give me a few days. If I can’t apprehend the ones who did this, I’ll agree to what you want.”
“Here’s a hint for you, Legate. Have you heard of the Irgun?”
Valerius nodded, recalling full well that at the crime scene, some anonymous person had accused the Irgun, then disappeared. Valerius said, “The Irgun were a faction of Zealots from the great rebellion. That was over a hundred years ago. According to my informants, they’re not a force in Judea today.”
It felt strange to call Samara his “informant.” Well, he supposed she was.
“Legate, you’d best get some new informants. My sources tell me the Irgun may be back.”
“Your sources?”
“In the senate.”
He took a step towards Aspergus. “How could it be that your Senate sources know things that my own quaestores and magistrates don’t? That not even the Emperor knows? My brother always sends me whatever the imperial offices learn about goings-on in Judea.”
“Certain Senators are privy to intelligence work that’s too secret for lower levels.”
Valerius looked at him like he’d just found a ferret scurrying out of a grain silo. “Are you saying that the Emperor is on a lower level than, what did you say? Certain Senators?”
Aspergus smiled. “Just look for the Irgun, Legate Valerius. That’ll keep you busy. Is there anything else?”
Valerius turned and marched down the hall and out of the lawyer’s mansion, wondering how many blazing bales of hay it would take to melt its marble walls.