Notes: Are you there, Sentinel Readers?
There was no sense of awareness in the black place of oblivion. There was no time or space, only nothingness. But something began to penetrate the darkness and restore self-awareness. He was tired, infinitely exhausted; he preferred remaining where he was, but there was a presence that called to him with strange familiarity. He could not ignore the commands of that voice. The eyelids he fought to open seemed to him to weigh more than stones, and he did not think he had the strength to open them, but for the power of the insistent voice, and the touch that brought with it a tingling sensation that ran up and down his arm.
Darkness became grey, then turned to light. There was sound, and smells of something pungent, and over that… something else that smelled of man, something pleasant. His eyes opened, and then there was sight. He saw the face of a young man above him. The eyes that peered down at him were wide with wonder. Excitement and kindness shone from the deep blue pools. He'd never seen those eyes before, yet they seemed so familiar.
He saw as though a man granted vision for the first time. Everything he perceived through his senses was sharp and clear. Though frighteningly weak, he felt more alive than he'd ever felt before.
Where he was, and how he had gotten there, he had no idea, but in his heart, he had no fear. The face above him meant him no harm, of that he was sure.
"Who are you? What is this place?" The voice that spoke to Jacob was weak and raspy from disuse. The strong features in the lean face grimaced.
"My name is Jacob. This is my Uncle Aaron's inn at the village of Ira." Jacob appeared to be fairly vibrating with excitement as he repeated in an incredulous tone, "I brought you back... I can't believe I brought you back."
'Ira?'
'Ira?' He had been in Bethlehem. But why? Gaius closed his eyes as the memories of what had followed in the wake of their arrival came crashing down… Blood, screaming, a grieving mother stabbing him with his own sword, sharp pain like fire and ice. Shame and confusion warred within as Gaius weakly looked about for his sword brothers, Eitel and Martinus. "How did I get here?" His voice barely rose above a whisper.
"Your companions brought you here."
Gaius made as if to speak again, but Jacob quickly cut him off. "Shh… You need to eat, drink, and take rest – real rest." Jacob got up and went to the door. He beckoned for Naomi and asked her in a low voice to bring food and drink, then he returned to Gaius' side.
"Eitel and Martinus are here, they are safe." Jacob burned with curiosity. Was this man a Zakif? Had he been overwhelmed by sights and sounds perceived through powerful senses, and thus had fallen into that strange state the learned men had spoken of as The Void? Jacob controlled himself as he waited for Naomi to return with the requested meal.
When Naomi returned she had with a pitcher of cool water, dried fish, bread, and an assortment of fruits. She was closely followed by her brother Aaron, as well as Eitel and Martinus, who would not be kept away.
Gaius watched as Eitel and Martinus, looks of joy on their faces, crossed the room and knelt on either side of him. Jacob noted the look of relief on Gaius' face.
Eitel spoke first, and there was wonder in his voice. " It is true, the Israelite brought you back."
"It was no easy journey bringing your lifeless carcass here," Martinus broke in with a voice made gruff with affection.
A ghost of a smile touched Gaius' lips. Eitel and Maritnus looked weary and their dirty clothes reeked of sweat and grime. Though they had both tried to remove the blood from their clothing and protective armaments, residual traces of blood remained still. "Are you both well?"
"Ja, better than you." Eitel looked to Jacob to whom Naomi had handed over the food and drink. He got up so that Jacob could resume his place near Gaius.
Slowly, Jacob assisted Gaius in sitting up, then he handed the older man a cup filled with cool water. In his weakened state, Gaius could barely hold the cup. His hands shook uncontrollably and some of the liquid spilled onto the blanket covering him. Jacob wordlessly placed his sturdy hands over the unsteady, long-fingered ones.
Such a show of weakness would have ordinarily been a source of shame and self-contempt, but it was strangely not so in the presence of this young man with the innocent-looking face. Gaius lacked the strength to contemplate the uncommon effect the Israelite had on him, for his thoughts seemed scattered like wandering sheep. He could only eat what the young man fed him, and drink when he raised the cup to his lips. Soon, his eyes began to droop as sleep came to claim him.
*******
Jacob eased Gaius back down again and drew the blanket up over his shoulders. The young man smiled when he saw that, before his head hit the pallet, the man was already in a deep, natural sleep. He sat still for a moment, watching Gaius' face as the man breathed gently in and out.
Then Aaron cleared his throat. Jacob stood up and faced his uncle. He noted the expression on his uncle's face and wondered why his lips were pursed together in a disapproving frown. What he didn't know was that his Uncle Aaron's disapproving look had been directed at his mother,
for when Gaius had sat up, the blanket covering the big man had dropped to his hips, exposing his nude, well-muscled torso. Naomi had looked on with an ill-disguised look of lusty appreciation, which had angered Aaron.
"Our guest will be well now, thanks to Jacob." Aaron looked pointedly at Naomi before continuing, "Naomi, Rachel needs your help with her sewing. Eitel, Martinus, come with me so that I can show you some proper hospitality." Aaron's authoritative tone made it clear he would accept nothing other than acquiescence. One by one, they filed out of the room with Jacob bringing up the rear.
The four men made their way to Aaron's reception room. Eitel and Martinus removed their sandals before stepping onto the raised platform. Once they were comfortably seated upon the couch, servants bearing rags and bowls filled with steaming water entered and began washing away the dirt and tiredness from their aching feet. Food and drink were brought forth, and Aaron encouraged the men to relax and eat and drink their fill.
Jacob and Aaron sat across from the guests, but it did not stop Jacob from observing his Uncle Aaron watching the men with an inscrutable expression on his face. The young man perceived that his uncle's initial dread and fear when he'd first heard the news that soldiers from King Herod's army were headed to Ira had all but faded and been replaced by something else, something darker.
Jacob, as surely his Uncle Aaron did, had many questions for which he was certain he would not like the answers. What were those soldiers doing in Bethlehem? Why had they not returned to Herod with their stricken friend? Why did they look as though they were fleeing? Most troubling to Jacob was the question of whose blood was on still on their clothes and weapons. Surely it did not all belong to Gaius. Was it Jewish blood then? Had they murdered his brethren and now he and his uncle were offering them hospitality?
Jacob picked at his food while Eitel and Martinus ate hungrily, each man, one with shaggy blond hair, the other with shaggy dark brown hair, sat with their heads bowed over their bowls of food. They looked up only after they had finished first and second servings, licking their fingers and wiping their mouths on the sleeves of their dirty tunics.
"More wine?" Aaron asked solicitously. The strangers held out their cups, and servants hastened to refill them. The two men drank more leisurely as their hunger and thirst slackened. Aaron stood up then and began pacing silently for a moment. Then he spoke,
"Are you fleeing King Herod's army? Are you deserters?"
Eitel and Martinus immediately sat straighter. Their faces became guarded as they looked silently at each other.
"What business did you have in Bethlehem?" Aaron asked without waiting for an answer.
Jacob, desiring to head off a confrontation from his volatile uncle, cleared his throat. "Uncle, these men are tired. Perhaps after they've rested would be a better time to seek answers."
"No, Jacob. They will answer now. Truthfully, or they will leave immediately."
Jacob could not hide his dismay at his uncle's demand. "But what of Gaius? Would you have him leave too when he is still weak and recovering?"
After the barest of pauses, Aaron replied, "Of course not, Jacob. Gaius may recover his strength and then he will leave." He turned to the men once more. "Will you speak truthfully?"
Some unspoken communication passed between the two foreign-born soldiers. Eitel answered for both of them: "Ja. We will. We are in your debt for the life of Gaius."
"Then, are you deserters?"
"Martinus and I will never return to Judea, instead we will go back to the land of our fathers. Gaius knows nothing of this."
"If that is so, then why is Gaius with you? Would he not have returned to Judea with others of your company?"
Martinus spoke up. "Perhaps it was only the three of us who were dispatched to Bethlehem."
Aaron snorted disdainfully. "When does Herod not dispatch a great number of his army in a show of force to do his evil deeds?"
Jacob nodded his head in silent agreement. His uncle was no fool.
"You are right. Four nights ago, our captain came to our barracks. Eitel, myself, Gaius and fifteen other men were selected to ride to Bethlehem to carry out Herod's orders."
"What were those orders?"
Neither man answered.
"Tell me!" Aaron hissed impatiently.
Eitel looked wearily at Aaron and then he answered in a low, steady voice, "For years there were rumors circulating around Herod's throne… Talk of an old Hebrew prophecy concerning a great and mighty Jew who would arise amongst the people and rule the entire world as king." Eitel shrugged pragmatically. "For years Herod was not bothered by such rumors. Even in Ira you know of how effective Herod is at taking care of his enemies, even when they are his own family members."
"Especially when they are his own family members," Jacob muttered under his breath.
Eitel ignored him and continued. "Things changed. Herod grew more concerned – I don't know why, it is not for the likes of someone of my station to know, but one day, not long ago, three men from a far away land, men of great riches and mystical powers, arrived in Jerusalem. They made camp outside of Herod's palace. One night, my captain, Drusus, came to me, Martinus and two others, in our barracks. We were commanded to accompany Herod outside the palace walls. Herod met with these strangers in secret."
Eitel fell silent, and Martinus took up the tale. "When Herod emerged from their tent, he had a look on his face and in his eye, that spoke of madness. Many days passed and there was nothing, only our training and regular duties."
"And then?" Aaron asked harshly.
"And then one morning, Drusus ordered myself, Eitel and fifteen other soldiers to prepare to ride to Bethlehem. Our captain told us we were to find this man who would be king and kill him."
"Bethlehem is a poor little town filled with unarmed Jews. Herod sent over fifteen men to kill some unknown poor man who some rebels claimed would take his place as king?" Aaron's disbelief and scorn were plain.
Martinus looked closed off, and Eitel ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair, his gaze was fixed firmly on the drink in his hand. It was Eitel who continued this time. "Our captain is a cruel man, and his dark heart serves Herod well. He lied, and when we at last reached the outskirts of Bethlehem by nightfall, he took undue pleasure in telling us the truth of our mission."
As the story unfolded, Jacob sat, listening intently. When the men spoke of the ancient prophecy, his mind recalled all that he had read and been taught concerning He who would be called Messiah. Not long afterwards, a feeling of terrible unease and dread began to steal over his heart. Then, in one instant, he was ignorant of the truth, and the next, a terrible revelation came to him before Eitel next spoke. Jacob was horrified.
"You sought not a man to kill, but a babe. Your King sent you to murder a defenseless infant!" he cried out in shocked dismay. Jacob's heart sank. What of Gaius? He was a solider just as they were, sent on the same mission to Bethlehem to murder a child. This man who might very well be the actual embodiment of the proof that there were such beings as Sentinels – his Zakif, was nothing more than a barbarian butcher.
Jacob was nearly overwhelmed by feelings of bitterness. But the tale Eitel and Martinus told was still not finished. This time, there was deep shame in Eitel's words when he spoke. "The captain ordered us to search every home in Bethlehem, seek out every man-child under the age of two and put them to death with the sword. Fathers rent their clothes. Blood ran in the streets when mothers tried to flee with their infants. Their sons died screaming and the wails and howls of their mothers' anguish echoed in the night."
Jacob's uncle looked beside himself with cold fury. "You murdering dogs!"
"We are soldiers. When told to go, we go. When told to kill, we kill," Martinus stated matter-of-factly, but his shame was no less than Eitel's.
Eitel finally looked up at the young man sitting across from him. Jacob's youthful face was drained of color, his blue eyes huge in his face. As if perceiving part of Jacob's real anguish, Eitel spoke, "Gaius killed no one."
But Jacob was too shocked and horrified to hear Eitel's words. He stood up, swaying slightly. "You have bought great evil and shame to this house. You are murderers, and the blood of Jewish infants is on your hands," he choked out. Images of babies being run through with swords, bodies twisted in agony and dripping with blood, assailed him.
Jacob's body shook uncontrollably as the dreadful images swirled, merged and changed into the terror and agony of an other time and place.
Suddenly he was no longer safe in his uncle's home in Ira. He was in Jerusalem, his naked body stretched between two posts. Jacob's heart pounded wildly and he gasped for breath, his body, jerking as if he felt the brutal lash of the whip tearing his back to shreds, all the while Herod's laughing face mocked him for being the lucky recipient of his "mercy" while the others, his rabbi and friends, would be executed for their folly by being burned alive. And when he had screamed and screamed until he could voice no cry aloud any longer, he was untied and allowed to unceremoniously drop to the ground in a bloody, quivering heap.
Jacob, then as he did in the present, saw everything in a red haze of pain. His mind was nearly numb from the agony and humiliation of his ordeal. It was not the fear for his beloved friends, nor the physical pain that was the final blow that sent him deep into oblivion, seeking reprieve from the cruelty, it was the blow to his soul that suffused him with a shame too deep to ever fully recover. Herod's bloated face loomed close to his as the guards roughly held his head in place. "Do you want to know why your miserable, traitorous life has been spared while the others will feel the kisses of the flames?"
Jacob could only pant harshly from the pain as Herod took hold of his long curls and jerked his head before giving a conspiratorial wink. Then the cruel king said with a whisper meant for Jacob's ears only, "Your mother whored herself to me to spare your life, again, and again, and again…" Herod allowed his voice to trail off suggestively.
"She was quite a fine mount, considering I like them much younger. You should feel proud."
The Jacob who had endured the whipping then, and the one who stood in Aaron's reception room now, moaned, and it was a sound that was nothing less than a soul so wounded and broken that it longed for death. But death did not claim him then, nor did it now. The blackness of unconsciousness enveloped him until there was no pain, only silence.
Aaron watched in paralyzed shock as his nephew crumpled to the ground and lay unmoving.
Present Day
Washington State Patrol, Cascade Detachment
From the warmth inside the small Washington State Patrol detachment, Jim and Simon both could see the chopper in which they would soon be riding. The chopper's blades were slowly starting up their rotations as the pilot in the cockpit began to warm the bird up and perform his pre-flight check procedures.
The night air was miserably cold. Just looking at the sleet coming down, and hearing the occasional gusty, chilly wind barrel through was enough to make Simon shudder and hunker down in his warm parka despite the building's heat. The parka was one of the few items Simon had managed to snag during the brief time inside his house in which he had to pack as Jim waited impatiently outside in his SUV for him.
Simon looked over at Jim, observing the other man's tense posture and determined, intense expression. His detective was pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. He let out a soft sigh of resignation. This wasn't going to be easy, but he knew Jim was doing the best he could to remember just how much he owed him at this exact moment.
Thank God for that short but important list of people in high places who owed him favors, Simon thought. One never knew when one would have to call in a marker, and boy, was this one a doozy.
Back at the loft, he and Jim had wracked their brains trying to figure out a way to reach the other end of the state as quickly as possible. They needed something fast – a chopper. And as desperate as Jim was to get to the area, even the anxious Sentinel understood that it wasn't possible for even a man of Simon's position of power and authority to authorize a Cascade City police chopper to fly them up to the site of the disaster. He had to use another resource, and that's when he remembered his former college roommate and fraternity brother, Ronald Crawford.
Crawford was well connected in the Emergency Management Division. In fact, he worked within the hierarchy of the State's Resource Coordination Center – the organization tasked with coordinating the State's resources for the purposes of search and rescue operations. If anyone could arrange for the immediate involvement and deployment of State Patrol Cascade Detachment resources, he could. The question was, would Crawford remember a 17-year-old vow to be there for Simon, to help him if it were in his power to do so?
He had every reason to hope so. Back when he was a freshman detective, Crawford's high-school age daughter, Suzan, had been found dead, brutally murdered on the Rainier University campus. The killer went undetected until finally, the case was relegated to the cold case files. It looked as though the killer had gotten away scot-free – that is until Simon had taken up the case in his off-duty hours. His dogged determination to find the killer of his friend's daughter had consumed his free time until, at last, he'd broken the case. The killer was apprehended, tried and convicted, thus providing a great deal of consolation and closure to his grieving friend and fraternity brother.
And Crawford hadn't let him down. With the same dogged determination used to find Suzan's killer, he'd tracked down Ronald Crawford over the phone. After listening to his request, Crawford had been more than willing to get the ball rolling on getting a State Patrol chopper in the Cascade Detachment tapped for the search and rescue efforts.
It was now 9:00 pm, and it was a race against the clock. According to the latest updates, there were now some search and rescue efforts being tentatively initiated at the disaster site before the weather turned significantly more severe, but Simon knew as well as Jim did that Jim's extraordinary abilities employed now would be Sandburg's best bet of being found alive, if indeed he was still alive.
Simon continued to watch Jim, as Jim watched the chopper. Jim had stopped pacing and was now standing stock still staring out the window as the sleet fell outside. It looked to Simon as though he were on the verge of a zone-out. Not this again!
"Jim!" Simon hissed urgently. Nothing. "Jim!" Simon repeated. The Major Crime captain breathed a sigh of relief when Jim tore his gaze away from the window and looked at him.
"What is it, Simon?"
"Looks like we may be leaving soon." Simon gestured with his head towards the figure approaching them. It was Captain Whitman, commander of the Washington State Patrol, Cascade Detachment. Jim looked impossibly even more tense than he had a minute before, and Simon knew Jim was bracing himself to hear news that the flight had been called off.
As if he'd read the other man's mind, Whitman said, "Relax, gentlemen, you'll be out of here in the next five minutes. Robert's my best pilot, so you'll be in good hands."
Simon extended his hand to Whitman. "Detective Ellison and I both thank you. If there's anything I can ever do for you…"
Whitman gave Simon a firm handshake and addressed both men. "I'll be sure and give you a call." Whitman ran a hand through his silver-streaked, dark hair. "You've got a powerful friend to make this happen for you, Captain Banks. I wouldn't be authorizing this flight otherwise."
"Thank you, Captain Whitman." Jim also extended his hand to the State Patrol officer, and Captain Whitman shook it. From outside, Robert gave the thumbs up signal, indicating that his passengers should proceed with boarding.
"Hope you find your missing man." With those parting words, Whitman went over to the window, while Simon and Jim grabbed their belongings and headed outside. Jim dialed down his hearing to protect his ears from the loud noise of the chopper's whirling blades.
Once inside the chopper, the men buckled themselves in and braced themselves for lift off. Robert skillfully guided the chopper into the air and as he did so, Jim leaned close to the window and looked one last time at the building they had just exited. Captain Whitman was still standing at the window, gazing upward at the airborne chopper. His lips moved and Jim, with his enhanced sight, easily read the words uttered: Godspeed.
*******
Ira
There was a strange howling – a sound of some beast in unrelenting agony. That sound sliced through the layers of sound sleep and pierced the soul of the exhausted man upstairs. Gaius' eyes flew open, and he looked around in a state of profound confusion and disquiet. There was no doubt about what he'd heard. It was the howl of an animal, but there was nothing in the room that could possibly explain either the sound, or the overwhelming feeling that someone whom he had a duty to protect was in distress and needed his help. Had something happened to his sword brothers?
Driven by an urge he couldn't understand, but so strong he couldn't deny it, Gaius rose from his sleeping pallet, wrapped the bed cloth around his waist, and staggered down the stairs. He had no idea where he was going. He was operating on pure instinct, and that instinct led him unknowingly straight to Aaron's reception room.
The nearer he drew to the room located at the front of the house, the more the instinct to protect grew until it merged into a groundswell of sound that nearly overwhelmed him with its frantic beating pace. Standing in the doorway, Gaius instantly pinpointed the strange thumping beats as coming from a half-hidden body crumpled on the floor, surrounded by Eitel, Martinus, and a man Gaius did not know. The men surrounding the unmoving form looked up in astonishment at the spectacle of Gaius half-naked and swaying in the doorway.
As for Gaius, he knew an instant before his eyes saw, that the man on the floor was he who had called him back from The Void. Gaius remembered that his name was Jacob, and clearly, something had happened to him. His eyes grew hard, and his jaw clenched with tension. The urge to kill and protect was strong and frightening. It propelled him forward on legs that no longer seemed unsteady.
Gaius closed the gap between himself and Jacob on long legs. Then he dropped to his knees beside the young man and with a care never before witnessed by his sword brothers, gathered the unconscious man tenderly in his arms and held him against his chest.
The men looking on were astounded. Eitel and Martinus looked at each other, shocked by Gaius' sudden entrance into the room, and by the reserved man's uncommon show of concern for the stranger. Gaius paid them no heed. Instead, he proceeded to check the young man's body for injuries, though none were apparent. Finding nothing, Gaius finally looked up with eyes that no longer held the killing coldness that Eitel and Martinus knew in battle. "What happened to him?"
Aaron looked both pained and angry. "Take your hands off him. Your friends confessed how you went to Bethlehem and murdered innocent baby boys on the word of the mad-man whom you serve!"
Gaius' face blanched, but he answered his host's accusation without letting go of Jacob. "There is no infant blood on my hands, and whatever these men have done under orders, they took no pleasure in it."
The younger man gave his older companions a penetrating stare, his expression inscrutable. Then he turned his gaze back to Aaron, for he did not need to look in the faces of Eitel and Martinus to receive confirmation of the veracity of his next statement: "These men have risked their lives to save mine. I know Drufus, our captain, would have ordered my death and my body left behind when I... I lost myself after we were ordered to go to Bethlehem."
Gaius flushed with remembered shame of the times the strange condition had come upon him and the resulting humiliation and punishment Drufus had inflicted on him for something he neither understood nor could help. Gaius pushed back the memories and continued, "They know that they can never return to Judea because they defied Drufus' orders and left without authority to bring me to safety."
Gaius turned his attention back to the young man in his arms who, by now, was beginning to stir. Jacob opened his eyes, and it was his turn to see a pair of blue eyes, set in a kind face, looking down at him. Instead of looking reassured as Gaius had hoped, a look of sheer terror crossed the youthful features. Jacob pulled himself up and away from Gaius, and looked shakily and with confusion at his uncle. Aaron took his nephew by the arm and sat him down on the couch while Gaius slowly got to his feet and made his way unsteadily across the room where he leaned heavily against the wall.
Gaius watched the shaken man silently staring at him and clearly struggling to compose himself. The sight of Jacob sitting miserably on the couch disturbed Gaius greatly but he did not know why. Jacob had looked at him in fear. Other men often had. Gaius' stern face had been the last thing many a man had seen before they'd died, pierced on the end of his sword in battle. But this was different. He had no wish to harm the younger man. He felt fiercely protective of him and he understood intuitively that this man fearing him was wrong.
His mind in turmoil, Gaius' weakness returned, causing his shoulders to slump forward, and his eyes to close wearily. The darkness was creeping up, threatening to render him just as unconscious as Jacob had been moments before. His limbs trembled, and through his intense weariness, he heard Jacob's words clearly, as though they were shouted, even though his voice was no more than the barest whisper, and too low for ordinary ears to hear from that distance: "You are a murderer of infants."
With all his will, Gaius held on to consciousness as he forced his eyes open. He held the
stricken blue eyes with his own when he replied in a loud voice, "Upon my life, I swear to you that I took no lives that night, nor have I ever slaughtered woman or child."
Jacob gasped aloud in shocked surprise that Gaius had heard him. There was a measured pause, then a whispered response: "Why should I believe you?"
"I do not lie."
Another pause, more thoughtful in nature followed, then: "Do you see the embroidery on the wall hanging behind me?"
"Yes."
"Can you read?"
"Yes."
"Read for me what it says."
Somewhere deep within him, Gaius found the strength to look where Jacob indicated. He saw the wall hanging that was no larger than a man's head, with small words embroidered in Hebrew. His heart was stricken when he read the words, first silently and then aloud. "It is a psalm. It says, 'He will rescue them from oppression and violence, for precious is their blood in His sight.'"
After a moment that seemed to Gaius to stretch into eternity, Jacob nodded his head in quiet acceptance that Gaius had told him the truth in all things. Overcome with a sense of profound relief, Gaius sagged weakly against the wall and would have fallen down completely, save for Martinus' brawny arm grabbing him and holding him upright.
Aaron had watched the interplay between his nephew and the soldier in rapt amazement, his face so eloquently communicating his complete bafflement at how it was possible for the other man to hear Jacob's whispered words from across the room. Now he stepped in front of Jacob and placed his hand protectively on his shoulder.
"Are you all right?"
"I am well, Uncle."
Relieved, Aaron demanded, "What manner of man is he that he can see and hear so far?"
"He is a Zakif. His senses are superior to ordinary men's." Jacob grabbed his uncle's hand. "Please don't send Gaius away. He is still weak from his ordeal. He needs food and rest."
"I have made my decision, Jacob." Aaron turned around and addressed the three soldiers. "Eitel, Martinus – the two of you will leave this house and Ira tomorrow morning. Gaius may remain."
"It will be as you wish," Eitel replied. "Now we will take Gaius back to the room." The blond soldier took his place on the other side of Gaius and together, he and Martinus all but carried the exhausted man upstairs.
After a while, Jacob rose from the couch, bid his uncle goodnight, and made his way wearily to his own small room. He was mentally exhausted from the day's revelations, and the trauma inflicted from being ambushed by the terrible memories of Jerusalem. Still, his heart sang for joy. He'd found what he had longed for so long to prove existed: a human being with the extraordinary gift of enhanced senses. He smiled as he stripped off his outer garments until only the inner Kethoneth made of linen remained. When he fell upon his pallet, the smile that graced his face remained even as he closed his eyes and slipped into a deep and peaceful sleep.
*******
In the morning, the sun's rays rolled back the night, bringing with it a crisp, refreshing light breeze that blew gently across the troubled land. This was the time when the women of Ira set out to the wells with their sturdy water jugs to fetch water for their respective households. The water wells provided a place for socializing for most of the village women, but not for the women of Aaron's household. Aaron's property contained its own cistern thus making it unnecessary for the women to make the trek down to the village well.
Still, the women in Aaron's household enjoyed fetching the water in groups of twos or threes whenever possible, so that they too could snatch the opportunity for exchanging gossip away from the grind of the indoor work. Occasionally, they were joined by female guests at the inn, who happened to be traveling with their families.
It was Jacob's young cousin Rachel's turn, on this quiet, peaceful morning, to fetch water before assisting the other women of the household in starting a fire for the oven and preparing the dough to bake bread. The young girl, much to her delight, was not alone on this morning, for she had been joined by the inn's lone female guest, a young woman named Maryam who'd been their guest for two days now while her handsome, older husband, who was a skilled carpenter, earned money for the rest of their journey.
In truth, Maryam was only a few years older than Rachel, but the shy, gentle girl who had arrived from Bethlehem was both a married woman and a mother with a baby boy at her breast. Rachel, who had instantly warmed to her, perceived Maryam fully as an adult, so she was especially thrilled that the other wanted to spend time with her. To have her along to talk to while filling and hauling back the heavy water jar was something to which she looked forward to.
Thus the two young girls, completely innocent and oblivious to the drama that had occurred the night before under their very roof, were laughing and smiling, exchanging stories and tales, especially of Maryam's travel to and from Bethlehem as they made their way across the courtyard and to the inn's entrance. And it happened that just when Eitel and Martinus, who had said their good byes to Gaius, came around the corner, they heard part of the girls' conversation.
The ex-soldiers' attire had been cleaned and repaired overnight, and having no other clothing to fit their large frames, they had no choice but to redress in the uniforms they no longer wanted as they readied themselves to depart Ira to return to the land where they were born. Armed, rested and fairly clean, the two men looked every inch Herod's loyal soldiers.
Maryam's eyes met and locked with those belonging to those of Eitel and Martinus. The ex-soldiers in turn, having heard Maryam tell the young girl with her that she and her husband had come from Bethlehem a mere five nights month ago, locked startled eyes with the young woman, alternating their gazes from her to the babe in her arms and back again. In a single moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, Maryam's countenance changed from young and open to shocked terror with a mother's intuition of extreme peril. She began to wail aloud in terror as she gripped the child closer still. Rachel's blood ran cold and though the two men had made no hostile move towards her new friend, she too, let out a yell. "Get away from her!" she cried out, frightened for Maryam and the baby.
The bone chilling screaming and yelling garnered the attention of Mica and some of the other male servants who were going about their tasks outside. They picked up whatever was handy to fashion for themselves weapons, and like a gang of mad dogs, they ran over and surrounded the two men, ready to wield their clubs to maim and destroy the symbols of much that they hated. Eitel and Martinus, seeing that they were about to be set upon by a group of angry, dangerous men, stood back to back and drew out their swords. They had no desire to fight, but they would defend their lives if needs be.
The men continued to advance on Eitel and Martinus. Just when it appeared that a violent confrontation was imminent, there was another loud ruckus as the front door was yanked open and Aaron, followed by Jacob and Gaius, barreled out.
The three men had no idea what had happened, but to a man, they sensed the tension, the depth of hostilities that was on the verge of erupting into violence. Desperate to control his servants, Aaron placed his portly frame in front of the angry men, held up his hands in a placating manner saying, "Peace! Peace! Put down your weapons. Go back to your work." The angry men lowered their weapons but made no move to leave. "Now!" Aaron commanded sternly.
At the same time, Gaius spoke to his sword brothers standing resolutely before him. "Put your weapons away," he said in a low, calm voice. Eitel and Martinus slowly lowered their swords, then sheathed them. Aaron used his anger to cover his fear at what had very nearly occurred. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded of the two deserters.
Eitel and Martinus exchanged looks. "They saw us and then they screamed," Eitel replied simply. "We heard this woman talking to the girl about how her family fled Bethlehem five days ago."
"So?" Aaron challenged.
"So nothing!" Eitel snapped. "We were ordered to Bethlehem six days ago – you know the rest."
Jacob, who had been standing silently observing everything, stepped forward. His curiosity had gotten the better of him, and so he turned to the trembling young woman with the baby in her arms.
"Maryam," he inquired gently in his most soothing voice, "why did you flee Bethlehem five days ago?"
If it were possible, Maryam's trembling appeared to increase. "It came to my husband in a dream, a warning that our son's life was in danger. We fled that very night," she said, her voice little more than a soft whisper.
Jacob looked at Maryam, and he knew without knowing that she had not told him everything. His curiosity increased even more, and he had a nearly overwhelming desire to see for himself, the baby in her arms. "May I please hold your baby?"
Maryam looked into the countenance of the man standing before her. The wide blue eyes set in an exquisite face communicated both innocence and knowledge of suffering. Her trembling slowed, then ceased altogether as she held out the sleeping infant and gently placed him in Jacob's arms. As she did so, Gaius came and stood behind him, a silent tower of strength.
Jacob stared down in silent wonder upon the child in his arms. In his head, he did not recall ever having seen a more beautiful baby. In his heart, he knew he had not. "What is your son's name?" he asked gently.
The brown eyes that looked up at him were filled with immeasurable, profound love that had no end. "We call him, 'Yeshua'."
Washington State Patrol, Wolf Lodge Detachment
Robert set the chopper down with the practiced ease of one who could do so in his sleep. This far east, there was already a coat of snow on the ground at least two inches thick – a gift from the early stages of the impending snowstorm. Every now and then, a gust of wind blew through, buffeting the chopper and making the snow swirl madly as it fell to the ground.
Jim and Simon made a dash into yet another state patrol detachment building. The two men stood still, looking around and getting their bearings after the flight. Thankfully, this detachment building was just as warm as the last they'd been in. Evidence of good holiday cheer in the form of garlands, wreaths, and a real tree was everywhere in tasteful quantities. All this holiday cheer stood in stark contrast to the somber attitude of the men and women inside, most of whom had been recalled to work on this Christmas Eve, due to the disaster. None had complained though. These officers had each responded to the emergency call with swift dedication. Some of their number were stationed a quarter mile on either side of the rockslide, while the remaining men and women at the station sat playing a wearying game of "hurry up and wait".
They looked up with great interest the moment the back door opened and two large men, one white, the other black, stepped inside. The two men brushed the clinging snow from their coats, took off their hats, and placed their bags by the door. These were the law enforcement officers their captain, Paul Rolph, had informed them would be arriving via helicopter from the Cascade detachment.
The nearest officer, Sergeant Walton, leapt up, extended a hand and made quick introductions. Then he led Ellison and Banks to his captain's office. The sergeant knocked on the closed door, and the authoritative voice inside responded, "Come in."
"Sir… Captain Banks and Detective Ellison from the Cascade Police Department."
A burly-looking man in his mid-fifties rose from behind his desk, hand extended.
"Captain Rolph. Pleased to meet you." Ellison and Banks, in turn, returned the handshake.
"Same here, though we both would have wished for better circumstances," Simon replied as he sized the other captain up.
"Coffee, gentlemen?"
"No thank you, Captain. If it's all the same to you, my boss and I would appreciate that ride up to the disaster area," Jim stated flatly.
Simon shot Jim a warning look.
As if he'd not heard the Cascade detective, Captain Rolph moved over to his private coffee mess and got out two coffee mugs. "Please, have a seat," he invited in an offer-you-can't-refuse tone of voice. Rolph understood these two men all too well. One of their own was out there, possibly injured. Probably dead. If it were one of his people, he'd do no less.
A moment later, Banks, Ellison and Rolph were seated, coffee mugs in hand.
Rolph spoke. "The best we can do for you is to give you a ride up to the emergency road block located about a quarter mile away from the actual rockslide. I'm sure you are aware that official search and rescue efforts haven't started yet, because, according to the experts, things are still very, very unstable. The snowstorm isn't helping things either. So... what exactlyis it you men hope to accomplish?"
Jim stared straight ahead, his voice firm and unwavering. "I need to find my friend. Whatever it takes."
Captain Rolph looked into the steely blue eyes of the man in front of him, and he knew that there was nothing over, on, or beneath the earth that would stop him from looking for his friend. Rolph shifted his gaze from the detective to the captain sitting next to him.
"Are you saying that you would risk your lives, risk possible arrest, maybe even the loss of your careers, by disobeying police authority to trespass beyond the established safety parameters?"
There was silence while the two captains exchanged measured looks.
Then from Simon came a solid, "Whatever it takes."
I'd love it if the folks who are reading this would leave a shout-out. : )