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Chapter 4

Thieves

"Your princes are rebellious,
And companions of thieves;
Everyone loves bribes,
And follows after rewards.
They do not defend the fatherless,
Nor does the cause of the widow come before them."

– Isaiah 1:23

"Unhand me, you Roman dogs!" The roar echoed in the paved roads of Jerusalem as the struggling man was hauled away in spite of his fierce protests, past the Pool of Siloam, up the Stepped Street, and toward the upper city. "Oppressors! Dirty heathens! I curse you and the womb that bore you! I spit on you! May Jehovah wipe your entire bloodthirsty race!"

"Shut your trap!" One of the soldiers brought his knee right into the man's stomach, who in turn cried out in pain but it did little to keep him subdued. "Carnal wolves!" He spat on another soldier's sandaled foot and received a punch in the face.

"We told you to shut your dung of a mouth!"

Titus seamlessly urged Argento – his prized stallion imported from Rome – onward, leading his subordinates toward the garrison, while they dragged the resisting thief. What else was new in this pestilent city? His fingers tightened on the reins. How he wished he could wrap them around the thief's neck and strangle him right then and there. It would certainly make things a lot easier. Two days ago, they had managed to apprehend his partner, who unlike this idiot, was more respectful and composed. In fact, Titus' men had tried to beat him in order to get him to confess the whereabouts of his companion, to no avail. Well, his behaviour was somewhat admirable, but the poor fool had suffered in vain for his useless partner's sake. That very morning the incompetent thief was caught stealing again and this time Titus and his men had been more than prepared, hence his hysterical cries of protests at the moment. At least he was captured and Titus would not have to stalk him like prey all afternoon. The meager, pathetic excuse of a man was not worth wasting Roman power for!

But the two thieves had brought quite the disturbance in the city over the past few weeks. Not only had they robbed one of the most elite groups in Israel, but during their heist, they had managed to murder a high-standing Pharisee. Of course, the Sanhedrin and Caiaphas complained to Pilate about the lack of competence of the Roman force. No surprise there. Caiaphas and his minions complained about everything… although lately, they had become too consumed with some Galilean Teacher. Titus wanted to roll his eyes every time he thought about the Jewish leaders. They were such utter buffoons and hypocrites! It was as though they were in trance…always raving about their precious 'Law'. The Law that, Titus guessed, they did not even keep. But either way, after hearing from Menelaus about the governor's concerns, Titus had asked his general to personally undertake the capture of the two thieves. They were, more or less, famous and went by the names of Gestas and Dismas. Which one was which, he had no clue and couldn't care less. Titus was not even sure whether they were Jews, Greeks or mixed but they regarded Romans with contempt as did most of the population of this filthy province. Which was why he was glad that Mars had smiled upon him and the thieves had been apprehended rather quickly. After all, Jews would not lift a finger to help him locate the two, even if they were known as merciless killers. In spite of the many differences and disagreements about religion, class and social order, one thing that bound the Jews together was their mutual hatred of the occupiers.

His head pounded, and his stomach growled. He was a Roman centurion, by the gods. So why then did he feel like such a slave? To Pilate, to the general, to this entire dung heap of a province? Four more weeks playing baby-sitter to these fools and he would go home and never look back!

Two tribunes rode by him on their fancy steeds and saluted.

"Mars smiles upon you, Asinius," One of them noted, his tone filled with superiority. "Managed to catch both of these troublemakers in a matter of three days."

Oh, great! Jupiter grant me patience… The inexperienced youth from the equestrian order always irked him. They knew nothing of combat. They just set, perched on their horses like roses and played soldiers, hiding behind paperwork, while lording over true warriors like Titus and Jason. In spite of his senatorial class – which was superior to equestrians – Titus was sure glad to be appointed as a centurion and not a tribune. At least, he actually fulfilled his military duty and his men looked to him as a leader, even if they were frightened of him half the time.

Titus did not even pretend to be cordial. He sent them a scathing look and nodded. "When you appoint the right man for the job, miracles happen."

The young tribunes, who were no more than twenty-two, saluted again rather smugly and passed by. Titus tried not to dwell on the fact that everything about this military life grated his nerves. Only comfort had been his friends from Rome, but even they proved to be a disappointment. His anger surged at that.

At last, the garrison came into his view. "You know what to do with him." He turned to his men, who had bound the cursing thief. "Show him the Roman hospitality he deserves." With that order, he snapped the reins, and Argento loped past the temple and over the bridge that crossed the Tyropoeon Valley. The upper city stretched before him in the afternoon sun. He needed some time alone. To calm the emotions that surged up, almost overwhelming him. How he hated when he was unable to restrain his raging feelings. He would circle around the city for a while – patrol it, making sure everything was under control. The infamous celebration was coming up – Passover, was it? And more and more Roman soldiers were seen making rounds in the city. He would do the same and simultaneously, subjugate his agonizing emotions.

He slowed Argento to a walk as they ascended marble steps that led to the deserted agora in front of Herod's palace. The broad square, the upper city's locus for trade and assembly, was empty of all but the hot wind that swept in from the eastern desert. It was around the time of the hour when the sun grew hotter before sinking back to the earth, hence why most of the inhabitants had retired to seek shade in their homes.

A massive arched entrance, wide enough for three chariots, led to the palace built by Herod – not the current fool but his father, the one they called Herod the Great. Just past the arch, another set of marble steps led to a vast central platform, where Pilate sometimes appeared to speak to the Jews or pronounce sentence on prisoners.

On each side of the platform stretched identical marble palaces, one named for Herod the Great, the other for Caesar. Even by Roman standards they were magnificent, towering over the upper city. Gardens, groves of sweet eucalyptus, and fountains fringed the polished stone walls.

But Herod Antipas didn't live in his father's magnificent memorial. He stayed in Caesarea, far away from the Jews who disdained him. Pontius Pilate, the legate and provincial governor, resided in the palace during the great feasts, when he marched his cohorts to Jerusalem to display the might of the Empire, but even he didn't stay in the city long. The god of these Jews made him nervous. He'd leave Jerusalem as soon as he could and Menelaus as one of the officers serving the governor, would probably go with him too. Jason would be grieved to hear that. It appeared as though their little group of five was splitting up. Apidius would be sent to Jericho since his century's base was stationed in Jericho. Lentulus spoke of moving to Damascus, where it was considerably calmer than here, Menelaus would accompany the governor in Caesarea…and Titus…well, his father's ship would sail him back to Rome in four weeks. While Jason would remain serving under his own father and transform himself into a pious Jew. Gone were the days of light-hearted adventures with his friends.

Again, with this ridiculous sentimentality! Titus shook his head and dismissed all of those thoughts from his head. Such was life and he would move on.

But for almost a year in the city, Titus well understood Pilate's avoidance of Jerusalem. In the last few days, the population of the city had swelled to ten times its usual number. Pilgrims from Damascus to the Dead Sea filled the streets to bursting. More Jews meant more trouble. It only took one radical to spark dissent, and a conflict could turn into a riot. Suddenly, you had a rebellion on your hands. Everyone knew Pilate needed to avoid any sign of rebellion in Judea.

The Jewish leaders assured Pilate they came together only to worship their god. The one and only God, they said. Titus shook his head again. Surely this god had deserted them long ago. He could not understand why Jason was unable to see that.

His fiery steed loped through the streets and rounded a corner in the markets, where there were still considerable amount of people bustling about. Merchants shouting about their goods, potential buyers inquiring about the produce, the mingling smell of spices, the mix of languages mainly Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek, buzzed in his ears. He had enough of contemplating, he would turn back to the garrison before his head began to pound all over again from all this noise. His stallion was thundering as the shoppers and merchants scattered to make way for him.

Suddenly Argento came to an abrupt halt and reared on his hind legs, almost knocking the unsuspecting Titus off. "Woah!"

"Watch out!" A man who had been standing directly into his path, was pushed out of the way by a sprinting woman. Titus regained control over his horse in time, pulling him back as the animal reared again and plunged over the woman and the man just as they tumbled to the ground. Fury swept Titus as he swiftly dismounted his stallion, muttering a Latin curse under his teeth. Deodamnatus! These blasted Jews! Standing around, not even shifting to make way, when a Roman horse was charging through.

"What's the matter with you, Jew? Are you blind?!" He demanded as the man cowered in fear, looking lost and confused. "What kind of an idiot runs in front of a horse like that?" His voice was a growl, but his hand was gentle as he turned to the woman next and attempted to help her up on her feet. His upcoming words died on his tongue as soon as he beheld her face.

"Abigail," He gasped, eyes going wide. "What are you doing here?" Never in his life did he expect to find Jason's Venus there in that moment. Last time he laid his eyes on her was at the wedding, a month ago.

The young woman in turn, did not take his outstretched hand and managed to stand up on her own, glaring at him in disapproval with her sienna eyes. From what he could see, she was not injured nor did she appear in any sort of pain. Thanks be to the gods!

"You could have been badly hurt or worse, killed." Titus observed her, knitting his brows. He did not even wish to imagine what Jason's reaction might be if something happened to his wife and unborn child…and what was worse, at the hands of Titus, his best friend! Once again, his anger bubbled up and he swung back to the man. "And you! What were you doing, standing in the middle of the road like a bl-" He stopped abruptly as the man raised his sightless eyes. Just as quickly as it came, the fury left Titus. "You'd be dead if not for this girl." His tone had gone softer.

"Thank you, my sweet lady...oh, thank you!" The blind man spoke, filled with gratitude. "I got lost and-"

The young woman smiled at him, squeezing his shoulder. "It is alright, Joel. But next time, please do be careful. Are your hurt?"

Joel shook his head as the girl inspected him with a concerned look. "I am alright, dear lady. How about you? What of your babe?"

"Rest assured, my babe and I are unharmed." She flashed an assuring smile at him again, even if he was unable to see it.

A crowd of curious onlookers stood all around them, leaning in, watching. Where was Jason? Why was Abigail out here all alone? Who was this blind man? By the gods! Titus cleared his throat and grabbed Abigail by the shoulder, shoving her out of the murmuring crowd, ignoring her wince of protest.

"Unhand me this instant!" She demanded as though a queen of Egypt, ordering around her slaves.

Once Titus was satisfied with the secluded place, he let go of her arm and glowered down at her, snarling like a wolf. "I thought you clever, Abigail! I must have been wrong. What is the matter with you? You almost killed yourself and Jason's babe! Are you an idiot?!"

The girl's perfect features strained and her anger flared as she raged at him. How could she go from a meek, graceful doe to a furious lioness? "This is our home, not the Hippodrome! You almost killed poor old Joel and injured my unborn babe. I am not the idiot, YOU are!"

Titus stared at her in shock. A woman hadn't scolded him like that since he said goodbye to his mother. In fact, no man dared raise their voice against him, let alone a mere girl. Perhaps, Abigail realized her foolishness too, for she slapped her hand over her mouth, looking embarrassed and remorseful. "I am sorry, lord Asinius…I was only…I just…" She fumbled over her words.

"Why are you wandering the markets all alone?" Titus regained his tongue. "Jason would not approve of this."

"I am not alone, I am with Simon." She retorted, glancing over her shoulder to spot the said slave, who was nowhere in sight. "He went to purchase some camomile for Mother."

So, she had started to refer to mistress Esther, the mother of Jason, as her own mother too? Titus crossed his arms. "Are you certain you are alright?"

"I am fine, but you nearly frightened the life out of Joel. Perhaps, you should apologize to him?" She had a tongue as sharp as his dagger, that was certain.

The impertinence of this Jewess! "Perhaps, you should start minding your own business, Abigail? Go back to your husband. I do not wish to make an enemy out of my best friend. We have already argued over you enough as it is. Jason would not like this. You almost risked his child and made me into a culpable party."

"You seem to know a great deal about what Jason likes." Abigail snapped back at him, resentment flashing through her eyes.

Titus had his Stoic mask in place but he was unable to suppress a growl in his reply "Correct. If only he listened. His life would not be ruined."

She flinched, taking a step back from him. "Our apologies, lord Asinius," Abigail's outrage abated and she assumed a modest look, lowering her gaze. "For disappointing you. But have you ever considered that what you call ruination is actually what brings Jason happiness and joy?" Then she looked up, her deep brown gaze intense as she continued more boldly. "What is so bad about having a family? About embracing the role of a dutiful son, husband and father? About finding one true God? Or do you truly believe that the only way to happiness is through alcohol, parties and harlots?" A stray dark lock escaped from her head-covering, framing her oval face as she pushed it over her ear.

Titus searched for appropriate words to make a response but found nothing. Her thick lashes fluttered back to him and there was undeniable brilliance shining in her sienna eyes. Why did she have such a powerful pull on him? Like a siren drawing in sailors only to doom them. No, he could not blame Jason. This Venus of his could tempt the most righteous of men. Even his strength seemed to weaken whenever he regarded the alluring creature. His gaze flickered down to her lips, lingering there for a moment. How tempting. The thoughts that swarmed through him were far from honourable. She was Jason's wife now. No longer a slave. He could not allow his lustful nature to take hold of him. If she had been anyone but Jason's…

Abigail no longer awaited for his answer, for she heard the call of Simon and clutching the head-covering around her face, glided through the crowds, vanishing like a star in the cloudy sky.

Those two dangerous thieves had been apprehended by Titus, but the true thief of Jerusalem walked free, stealing hearts of men without even being aware of it.