(AN: Now we are in Rome!)

(As far as this chapter is concerned, and the antagonist presented in this chapter, let me make a few things clear. His visual depiction [in my mind] is not the hairy-throated, blond-haired fat Caesar [a la Dom DeLouise from History of the World pt.I] that is the 'historical' depiction. To me, that is not imposing. So I've based his physical depiction off Joaquin Phoenix's Commodus from the Ridley Scott film Gladiator [critics and historians noted a stronger comparison of that film's character depiction of Commodus to the historical Nero, rather than the historical Commodus].)


Nero

At the age of seventeen, he had become ruler of the known world, with the help of his mother Agrippina: only to have her killed several years later. A poet in his own eyes, beloved by the people of Rome, and a builder by all accounts. He had seized power by his own hands and kept it by his own hands, to the detriment of the Roman Senate: he was the Emperor, and here was one not to be trifled with.

In his palace in Rome, the Emperor received a messenger bearing a message from Porcius Festus. His guards examined the messenger to be certain there were no hidden weapons, and once he was declared clean, he was received and delivered the message to one of the Emperor's aides who then gave it to him.

"Seneca, a word." the Emperor said to his adviser.

"What is your wish, Caesar?"

"I have here," the Emperor began, indicating to the letter. "A letter from my good friend Porcius Festus. You know him, he always has the best things to say about my poetry."

"I daresay, Apollo himself is envious of Caesar's skill on the lyre."

"Yes, yes, I know that," the Emperor retorted. "But see here, Seneca: my good friend Porcius has asked me to provide the final judgment on a private citizen from Judaea who has appealed his case directly into my hands."

"A small matter, Great Caesar," Seneca stated. "I believe the plans for your new palace, the Domus Aurea, are of a greater importance."

"It's maddening," the Emperor said to his adviser. "These people won't just leave. After all, am I not their Emperor, and they my subjects?"

"I am certain if we petition them again, Your Grace, we will..."

"Wait a moment," the Emperor waved Seneca silent with his hand, now looking at a smaller attachment to Festus' letter of introduction. He laughed.

"What is it that Caesar finds humorous?"

"First of all," he began. "This ridiculous indictment: 'After close examination, I could find nothing at fault, except that the people of Jerusalem were more than eager to see him put to death.'" He scoffed. "Jews, only worth the taxes they give."

"I see, Caesar."

"But something that amuses me," the Emperor said, picking out the attachment. "Is this attached letter, by a centurion of the Imperial Cohort: he mentions things that this prisoner, this Jew, Paul of Tarsus, has done during their voyage here." He laughed. "It's said that he predicted a storm would hit them, but that none of the crew would be lost." Silence as the Emperor continued to read. "It says he healed the father of a barbarian chieftain on Miletus, after the people saw him bitten by a venomous serpent yet unharmed."

"I see no reason, Mighty Caesar," Seneca continued. "Why Caesar should put such stock in these exaggerated rumors."

"I know this man's family, Julius," the Emperor said. "He is very highly recommended, not one prone to exaggerate, as I recall. If he says this, it would be worth looking into. After all," he smiled. "They've come over three hundred leagues from Caesarea. Might as well let them speak their case."

"Caesar is most generous," Seneca bowed. He then turned to a servant and gave him the order.


About an hour later, Paul, old and withered, was led by two Roman soldiers who were following Julius as they made their way to the palace. With them was a personal attendant to the Emperor, who dogged their steps, chanting "Memento mori" as they proceeded.

"I haven't been in the palace of the Emperor in all of my life!" Julius exclaimed. He then looked back at Paul. "I pity that you are a Jew, for you do not know what it is like to call home to Rome, the center of the world, and cannot share in my joy!"

"Believe me, Julius," Paul replied. "I have joy enough and to spare as it is."

The heavy doors were thrust forward, and they slowly walked in as they were announced.

"Julius of the Imperial Cohort," the majordomo spoke. "With the Jew, Paul of Tarsus, prisoner from his excellency Porcius Festus, governor of Judaea."

They made the final approach before the Emperor's throne and came to the minimum distance 'mortals' were permitted to stand when in the presence of the emperor. One by one, the soldiers extended their right arm, erect and rigid, in a salute to the emperor.

"You do not bow before your Emperor?" he asked the prisoner.

"Your pardon, Caesar," Paul said. "But I bow to no man, save for the LORD God of Israel."

One of Caesar's personal guards rose to strike Paul down to his knees, but the Emperor halted him.

"If we struck down every Jew who did not bow before their Caesar," he jested. "The world would be void of Jews." Several of the other courtiers gathered here laughed at his jest, but silenced themselves once he ceased.

"It has come to my attention," Caesar continued. "That you have appealed your case to my judgment."

"That is correct, Caesar," Paul said. "If I may be permitted to explain the particulars..."

"Make it quick."

"Yes. Well, you see, my people believe in one God, He who is called I AM, and hold that there is no other. Yet He sent His Anointed Christ, His own Son, Jesus, to this earth as a redemption for all mankind. Many people will gladly accept this gospel, which I have preached throughout Judaea, Asia and Greece, but some of my people refuse to believe it, and hold me as an enemy."

"Why would they do that?"

"Because," Paul added. "It behooved the Christ to suffer, die, and rise again from the dead that all who believe in Him shall have everlasting life. Concerning the manner in which He died, my people, the people of Israel, had a hand in His death."

"I see," Caesar nodded. "Well, I must say, this Christ of yours is very intriguing. The gods of Rome are immortal, indifferent towards the cause of man by reason of their immortality. The barbarians in the north believe their gods die just like them: to me, no god who can die is worth being called a god. If your god can conquer death, that is quite different."

"He is indeed," Paul said. "But my people would not believe in Him, for various reasons, and they tried to have me killed against the laws of Rome, which state that, in every province, the death sentence may only be given out by signed permission from the governor."

"And Festus found no truth in your charges?"

"Actually, it was his predecessor, Felix, who was pandering to the..."

Caesar raised his hand. "Still, this seems quite plain to me. Why should my time be wasted on this open and shut case?"

"Your pardon, Caesar," Julius interjected. "I'm afraid the prisoner has not completed his tale. For the Jews, unhappy with Paul being kept in our custody, told both Felix and Festus to give him over to their judgment, but had agreed to kill him without a warrant once he was in their hands."

Caesar nodded, then turned to Paul, the letter of introduction in his hand. "I have read the centurion's addendum, and he sings your praises quite eloquently. He says you show courage in the face of adversity, and great devotion to your god and to your faith." He laughed.

"Have I said or done something that is amusing, Caesar?" Paul asked.

"You don't look like a religious fanatic," the Emperor said. "Even in the telling of that ridiculous story about your god coming back from the dead, you seemed very...earnest."

"I speak only of what has been revealed to me from God."

The Emperor then rose from his throne and gestured to Paul that he follow. The soldiers lead Paul after the Emperor, at least twenty paces, until they came to a place where the palace looked out upon the city of Rome. The Forum could be seen from here, where Paul had been warmly received by many Jews and fellow Christians but a few days ago: the Circus Maximus dominated a good portion of the scene to one side, and at least three of the seven hills were fully visible.

"Behold the city of Rome!" the Emperor said to Paul, gesturing out to the city. "Isn't she glorious? An eternal queen of cities!"

"It is quite large," Paul said.

The Emperor laughed. "I did not expect a Jew to appreciate fine, Roman culture and architecture. Nevertheless, come closer." The guards brought him to ten paces from the Emperor.

"The time for change is ripe, don't you agree?" he asked Paul. "The old ways must be tested and the new ones broken into, that we may see wherein the truth lies."

"There is only one truth," Paul said. "That there is only One God, and One Mediator between God and man: Jesus the Christ."

"Indeed," the Emperor said cordially, turning back to Paul. "Your new-found faith is full of novel and revolutionary ideas. I like it." He turned again to the city of Rome. "It is my greatest wish to rebuild Rome in my image, that its splendor might be seen through all the ages. That people may look back and say: 'Is this not Great Rome that Nero hath built?'" He turned back to the old rabbi.

"Revolutionaries like yourself," he said. "Would be well-placed to effect great change for the greater good."

"If it is to the glory of God," Paul replied bashfully.

The Emperor smiled. He then returned to his seat, sat himself down, and then addressed Julius.

"I will judge this case on a more convenient season," he said to Julius. "Paul is to remain in Rome until my pleasure. He shall have one strong soldier to guard him, but will be allowed to entertain friends at his leisure." He then waved them away. "Dismissed."

Julius and the soldiers led Paul out of the throne room, the first encounter with Nero, the Emperor of Rome, having come to an end.


(AN: This probably confused people, since they did not expect a 'nice' Nero. However, his niceness is all a farce. Ellen G. White, in Acts of the Apostles, stated that Nero bore the "impress of Satan". In my own mind, Satan doesn't come at you in a blaze of fire, looking like a satyr, demanding your soul. The chief of evil ones comes to you in a guise of friendship and help [which explains why so many people in today's society depict Satan as a good, helping, 'friend' of humanity: lol, not only are they repeating unoriginal lies, but they themselves are blind to the fact that they themselves are being deceived]. After all, more flies are caught with honey than vinegar. It explains why my Satan is more..."beautiful", than most depictions, and why Nero seems like a nice fellow. He's leading Paul on for what will happen in the next chapter.)