Peter turned around, tossing about. He couldn't sleep. He sighed and lay listening to the sounds in the house. Next to him he heard the soft snoring of Andrew, which mingled with the soft breathing of the others. They all lay on the ground, under their blankets. They were quite used to it, but Peter thought soft forest ground lay better than the wooden floor. He opened his eyes and watched the silver pools of moonlight which fell through the window above Judas' bed. One of them fell at Jesus' face, which made him look like an angel of Heaven. His head rested in Mary's lap. The girl leaned against the wall, mouth slightly open and a hand on Jesus' hair.
Judas made a movement and moaned when he ended up on his wounded side. He tried to draw himself up, but fell again on his wound. A little cry escaped his lips and Jesus raised his head.
"Judas?"
"Jesus?" Judas managed to draw himself up once more. Even from the other side of the room Peter could see him tremble, almost collapsing again.
"Let me help you." Jesus supported him until he lay on his back again. Then he sat down at the bedside, so Peter couldn't see Judas' head anymore. "How do you feel?"
"Terrible." He sounded washed out. "Could I get something to drink?"
"Of course." Jesus moved through the room, avoiding everyone and disappearing in the other room. He returned with a cup, which he held against Judas' lips. "Would you like something to eat as well?"
"No thanks, I become sick at the idea."
There was a silence for a minute, and then Jesus whispered: "You acted very brave."
"It's alright, Jesus, I've told you already. Every other apostle would've done the same and I'm sure…"
"I don't mean that," Jesus interrupted. "I mean when you woke up. You were dying of pain, and you still laughed."
"Oh, that." Judas was silent, and then continued: "They otherwise all would've gone mad, wouldn't they, if I said I could hardly move."
"It was very brave."
"No, it wasn't. It was necessary."
There fell a silence again, but it was a friendly silence. Peter knew Judas was watching Jesus. Suddenly Judas grasped Jesus' hand. "Jesus… You care about me, don't you?"
Jesus laughed softly. "Well, I don't think I'd live to see the day that Judas Iscariot asked a stupid question. Of course, Judas, I care about you." He added teasing, like Peter's little nephews always did: "But only if you care about me too. Do you?"
"Yes… Yes! A- a lot." Judas voice had a strange, hoarse rang to it. Jesus laughed again, a light, soft, beautiful sound. It was clear he thought it was an innocent kind of game.
"Jesus…" Judas started, but he was interrupted by a soft noise. "What was that?"
"Oh, that was Mary." His voice grew soft and fond and he turned his head so he could look at her. "She always makes little noises when she sleeps."
"Really?" Peter heard an icy edge in Judas' voice, but Jesus didn't seem to notice.
"Yes. She's been sitting with me all the time you were asleep. I think she's really fond of you."
Judas snorted. "Really, I do think she is. She's been helping me all the time while a cured you."
"Jesus, are you blind? I hate her and she can't stand me," Judas flared out.
"That's not true," Jesus said, slightly frightened by Judas' hard tone. "Why wouldn't you like her? She's wonderful."
"You're such an idiot!"
"Judas!" Jesus sounded more hurt than angry. "Why did you say that for?"
"If you can't figure it out yourself, I won't tell you," Judas snapped. He turned at his not-wounded side, showing Jesus his back. Jesus sat for a moment stupefied. Then he decided Judas' bad mood had to come from his frustration about his wound and thought it better to leave him alone. He lay down again, his head in Mary's lap. Peter saw in the moonlight that he anxious watched Judas' silent back.
Peter sighed, decided he'd better sleep some more. There would come problems of that, he thought.
His mind wandered, and he thought of the night they had met Judas. They had been with few, the followers of Jesus; he, his brother Andrew, James, with John of course, and Phillip. Jesus must have been travelling for six months then. They had met a shepherd on the way, a talkative little man, who had, in order of the laws of hospitality, invited them to a cottage where he "and a friend o' 'is" would stay for the night with their herds.
They entered the little cottage, which was small but tidy, with a grant table and a couple of chairs and a hearth with a burning, crackling fire. At the table sat a long, thin, rather old man with a friendly face, who smiled when he saw the little shepherd come in. he raised an eyebrow when the apostles and Jesus had entered, but he kept his friendly gaze.
"Friends of you, Joses?"
"Strangers, Luke," the little shepherd said cheerful. "With no place t' sleep an' nothin' t' eat, so I thought: let's make 'em comfortable."
Luke nodded. "Good idea."
"Whoosh, icy out there, don' ye think? Good we've got a fire 'ere."
"Judas put it on," said Luke while Jesus and the others took place around the table.
"Judas?" Joses swung around, and they all only now noticed a young man in the corner, absorbed in a book. He looked up when Joses said his name out loud and looked rather surprised. It seemed like he hadn't noticed anyone had entered. He got a mocking smile on his face and keen, black eyes.
"Hello, Judas!" Joses said loud and jovial, at a way that made clear he tried to hide his uneasiness. "How are ye, eh? Hadn't seen ye sittin' in that corner."
"I'm fine, thank you, Joses," the man replied. The light played over his handsome, rather dark features. "Did you bring home guests?"
"Yeah, this is…" He turned towards Jesus and the apostles, then realised he didn't know their names and it was against the laws of hospitality to ask them and started to mutter. "Ehh…" Judas watched him with an amused look.
"I am Simon Peter," interrupted Peter at a sign of Jesus. "This is my brother Andrew, James, his brother John, Phillip and Jesus."
In Luke's eyes there was a spark of recognition, and Judas bowed forward. " The Jesus? Jesus of Nazareth?"
Jesus smiled. "I'm not aware of another Jesus of Nazareth, so yes, I suppose I am."
"Ha! But I've heard abou' ye then," Joses exclaimed. "You're the guy who talks abou' God an'…"
He was interrupted by Judas. "Let's stay polite, Joses," he said. "We haven't offered our guests any food."
Joses quickly darted away, muttering to himself and searching in his bag for the food he had token with him but couldn't find, while Luke and Judas together managed to make enough food for everyone. Finally Joses gave up and joined them. "It'd probably've tasted terribly," he admitted.
It was quite cosy after all. Andrew and John teased each other; Phillip, James and Joses discussed the ways of raising sheep and Peter found a very good companion in Luke. Only Jesus was silent. He frowned at his bread, like it was a difficult exercise he had to solve. Judas too didn't spoke a word. He gazed in the fire, lost in thought.
After the meal (which was rather good, seeing it existed out of bread, water and some cheese), they all sat around the fire. That is, all except Judas, who disappeared outside. Joses looked so relieved that Andrew curious asked what was so terrible about that Judas before Peter could stop him.
"Well kiddo," Joses said. "That's quite a story. You'd better ask Luke 'ere, 'e tells it better than me. 'E 'as a wonderful voice."
Luke looked a little annoyed, but however said: "Judas Iscariot is born in our village. He was always a very active, smart little boy. I remember that the teacher of the Hebrew school told me that judas always asked him everything. He was very curious and had to know how everything worked. At his fifth he got a little sister, Lisa, and I don't think someone could love his sister more than he." Luke used very common words, but like Joses had said, he had a wonderful voice that made the story come alive. "He sat next to her at day, and replaced his bed so he would wake up if she cried at night. She was a beautiful baby. Everyone talked about her, you can imagine how proud his parents were. But then, it must be sixteen years ago- Judas was seven- there was a fire. It destroyed Judas' family's entire house. Judas ran back to get his sister out of the fire, but there fell a burning rafter fell on him. He still has a giant burn from it. He saved his sister, though. We all stood outside, waiting, while Marius- his dad- tried to control Esther- his mother- who wanted to run in the house. And then he suddenly burst out the house, totally covered with ash, Lisa in his arms.
"He hardly left her alone after that, like the girl would disappear if he went away. But his father started to get old; he had to help with the herd. And at one day,- it must've been… seven years ago- a neighbour- an old lady- found at Lisa a big, black ulcer." Everybody around the fire fell silent. A big, black ulcer- the sign of the plague. "She took the girl immediately to a doctor, however no one had money. But when she told him what she had found, he made time for her." Luke played with the end of his beard for a moment and then resumed: "It was the start of the plague, but it wasn't infectious yet. Lisa was immediately taken to the plague house, of course."
Peter knew that whoever got into the plague house, never got out it again. If you hadn't been infected before that, you were the moment you set foot there. "But when Judas came home and heard what had happened, we had to stop him with all the men of the village, or he'd have gone to there and got her out of there. When he realised everybody would stop him, he said to me, very calm: 'It's all right, Luke you can let go. I won't do anything.' So we let go of him, still careful of course, and he went into his house. Five minutes later he came out again, completely packed. His mother wept and threw herself at his feet, and his father cried, but he left, without looking back. We didn't see him again, until last year, he suddenly turned up. We first didn't recognise him. He walked through the village like he just had been away for an hour and stepped in his old house. Only when he kissed his mother and embraced his father we recognised him. But he has changed. He isn't happy or cheerful anymore, he's silent, and when he talks, it's mocking and cold. He does he's job, he sleeps, eats, drinks… But that's all.
"He used to tell wonderful stories, but now… I'll never forget the first evening we asked him to tell us something. It was the evening he'd arrived, so we hadn't noticed there was something wrong. We wanted him to tell us something he'd seen while he was away. And… he opened his mouth, tried to speak. It was like he'd lost the ability to talk. He closed it again, and shook his head. It was horrible. I know it sounds weird, but it was. It was like the sky had suddenly turned red. It wasn't right. Judas was the boy who everybody astonished with his stories, the laughing, active, talkative little boy had disappeared."
"An' don' forget the rumours," Joses interrupted.
Luke looked annoyed again. "That were only rumours," he said in an off-hand way.
"Yeah, yeah." Joses turned to them again. "Ye should 'ear them. They say 'e 'as 'ad a relation with a man." John gasped, but Luke declared he didn't believe a word of it. Joses continued though, and Luke folded his arms and muttered something about 'trouble-stirrers and backbiters'.
"They say they've been caught, an' when they'd been tortured, so they'd admit their crime, Judas escaped with the 'elp o' a thief an' a devil. They say the priest who condemned 'im still's afte' 'im. So ye can imagine nobody really feels comfy when Judas's around, can ye." Joses bowed forward, with a blink. "Did ye know, by-the-by…" He stopped and became pale, staring at the door. They all turned around.
Judas Iscariot leaned against the door-post. He was as pale as Joses and his black eyes were at fire while he looked at the frightened man. "I'll tell you something, Joses," he said and his voice quavered. "It was a trap, we weren't caught. It was a lousy, stinky trap and the man-" he spit the word out. "-knew about it. Yes, I've been tortured, and yes, I've escaped, but there were no thieves or devils, just a drunk guard. What have you to say now?" Everyone looked at Joses again, but he opened his mouth and closed it again, like a gold fish. He was scared to death.
Judas laughed, bitter and mocking. "You were always such a goddamned coward." He looked around and everyone avoided his gaze. Peter couldn't stand to look in the accusing dark eyes. Only Jesus looked back, friendly and almost interested, like he was a rare species. Then Judas turned around and walked away.
After a silence Jesus stood up. "Where are you going?" asked Peter.
"After that Judas," he replied simply.
"Are you sure? I think he'd rather want to be alone."
"No, I don't think so," Jesus smiled. "I think I'd like to talk to him. He looks like a very interesting person." And he disappeared through the door.
They all sat around the fire, and after some time they all started to talk politely again, avoiding the subject Judas. Peter thought about him, though, and he knew everybody else did so too. He couldn't help but admiring him. He might be a dangerous man, like Joses said, but Peter didn't believe that. He looked like a smart, brave man. He hoped Jesus could talk to him and explain him they didn't feel about him like Joses did. He was sure Jesus didn't think him bad either. Without knowing why, he stood up, walked over to the corner Judas had sat before and picked up the book he had been reading. He frowned. There were strange signs in it. It wasn't Hebrew, but no Latin either, 'cause he knew Latin.
"That's Greek," said Luke to him. He had seen what Peter had in his hand.
"Can he read Greek?" asked Peter surprised.
"Oh, he can read Hebrew and Latin too," grinned Luke. "He's learned a lot while he was away."
Peter nodded and laid the book back. Without a good reason, he went outside and looked at the sheep. He thought he heard something and sneaked to a tree. He looked… and saw Jesus and Judas. Jesus sat at the foot of a tree and Judas sat beside him, not looking at Jesus, but talking. Peter couldn't catch the words, but he heard Judas talking rather hysteric and fast. Sometimes he stroked with his hand over his eyes. Jesus gently said something and thick tears trickled down Judas' face. He turned away but Jesus laid a friendly hand on his shoulder and put his arm around Judas. Judas pushed his face against Jesus' chest and cried softly.
Peter sneaked back to the cottage.
The next morning Judas was already gone, Luke was leaving and Joses still slept.
"He always leaves early in the morning," Luke explained while they got up. "He's a very good shepherd, whatever Joses may tell you. Well, I've got to go." He shook everyone's hand. "It was nice meeting you. When you're around, you'll always find an open door with me. Farwell." He left.
They waited until Joses was awake and bade him farewell.
Jesus didn't speak about what he or Judas had said, and after some time John couldn't wait anymore and asked Jesus what had happened.
Jesus didn't look at anyone for some time and hummed softly a song. Then he said: "He's a strange man. He's lonely of course. But he's very intelligent. You know what he said? 'I loved that man really. Why is love a crime?'" He hummed some more, while they all thought about those words.
"I wish he'd come with us," Phillip suddenly said. Jesus nodded.
"So do I," Peter said, without really knowing why.
"And I," James said. Andrew and John agreed.
On a stone on the way a man sat. He stood up when they passed. It was Judas. He looked at them all and finally said: "May I join?"
Jesus laughed, a light, soft, beautiful and innocent sound.
