(AN: With luck, this chapter shall complete the story of the voyage. Also, if there's anyone who knows the radio-series Adventures in Odyssey, you might see some similarities between their radio-episode "St. Paul: Voyage to Rome" and this chapter. Hopefully not too many to be considered plagiarism, but, obviously, I was influenced slightly. Enjoy nonetheless.)
(Furthermore, a certain word makes an appearance here: I am, of course, using the archaic meaning of the word, not the derogatory word for homosexual. Please don't be offended)
Voyage to Rome
Into the ship they went, Paul and a host-load of other prisoners, on their way to the capital to have their cases judged by Caesar. As they were preparing to be on their way, captain Julius went below, followed by four men, and addressed Paul.
"Paul," he said. "I have with me four men who claimed to know you. They were most insistent that they accompany you on this trip to Rome." He then stepped aside and Paul recognized Lucas, Timothy, Demas and Aristarchus of Thessaly. Each one he embraced and planted a kiss upon their cheeks, as was the custom.
"God bless you, Julius," Paul said to the captain.
"It wasn't your god," Julius returned. "It was my generosity. I rather like you, prisoner: you're different than the other Jews I've met, than anyone I've met, by Jupiter's..." He silenced himself as he saw the others.
"We put to sea shortly," he said. "If there's anything you need..."
"Wait, why are you helping us?" Demas asked.
"I'm not a tyrant," Julius returned. "And since what your friend has been accused of matters little to me, I see not why I should treat him like a criminal." The captain dismissed himself, leaving them to their friend.
"It's good to see you well, my old friend," Lucas said.
"We thought they'd never come to a conclusion!" Timothy exclaimed.
"It is the will of our LORD," Paul said.
"How can you say that?" Demas asked. "You're being shipped off in a ship to Rome! How can that be the will of the LORD?"
"He spoke to me," Paul said. "In the cells of the Fortress Antonia: 'Be of good cheer. As you testified for Me in Jerusalem, you must also bear witness in Rome.'"
The voyage was slow, the Adramyttium ship sailing along the coast, as all ships did in the time of the ancients. Instead of putting out to open sea, the ship sailed first to Sidon, then northward, along the coast of Syria and Asia, to Myra, where they bade farewell of their ship.
Julius, his commission still standing, found himself an Egyptian ship that was making way towards Italy. Despite the warnings of poor weather afoot on the southern half of the sea, the ship made land-fall on Crete, stopping at the port of Kaloi Limenes for rest and resupply, as well as to wait for the winds to fill their sails for the final push away from the Greek isles into the Mediterranean Sea proper.
Towards Italy.
Early one morning, Paul and his companions were awoken by Julius' regiment, preparing to embark on the ship for the last leg of the voyage. After prayers, which they were allowed to carry out, Paul left the others and went in search of the captain. Outside, as the day was still many hours away, Paul found Julius at the docks, awaiting the preparation of their Alexandrian ship.
"Captain, a moment, please."
"Paul," Julius said, turning to him. "Are you ready for the end of your voyage? I daresay, even a Jew like yourself will find Rome splendorous, a wonder to behold!" He sighed. "Forgive me, I was born in the capital, it has been many years since I was last there."
"I understand," Paul said. "But it is because of the voyage that I have come. I fear that we may be leaving too soon."
Julius laughed. "Too soon? I have a commission to deliver you to Rome as swiftly as possible. A Roman must complete his task or else forefit his life, it is our honor-bound duty!"
"I do not question your duty, captain," Paul retorted. "Only the timing. I fear that if we board this ship, our voyage will come to a bad end: disaster and much loss, the ship, her cargo, and all of us as well!"
Julius walked onto the ship, with Paul in tow, and made his way to the captain, who stood at the stern, where the rudder of the ship was located.
"Rama!" he called out to the giant Alexandrian. "Is there any chance of delaying our departure?"
The Alexandrian grunted and shook his head. "Why, getting sea-sick are you, Roman?"
"Not I, captain," Julius laughed. "But this man, one of the prisoners in my charge..." He indicated to Paul. "Has given me his concerns regarding the voyage."
"He doesn't look like a sailor," the Alexandrian grunted, then pointed at Paul. "You, little man, have you sailed before?"
"Yes," Paul shook his head. "And I know that, in winter, the sea is most troublesome." The captain shook his head and turned around.
"If you set sail in this weather," Paul insisted. "We might all die!"
"Even if we did wait for the weather to clear," captain Rama retorted. "We couldn't hope to do it here. The only place suitable for us is on the other side of Crete. Besides, the others have just said that the harsh weather is due to clear up in a few days."
"Captain, I beg you..."
"I am captain of this ship, not you, little Jew!" he then turned to Juilus. "Get ready, we're pushing off!"
It was with foreboding and ominous portents that Paul and his companions set forth from Kaloi Limenes towards Phoenix, the 'suitable' port on the other side of Crete. There they remained for some time, and, to Paul's mind, he hoped that they would at last be spared of the dangers of the open sea.
Yet there came a day when calm winds blew up from the south. The captain took this as a sign that the worst winter weather was over, that this wind would fill their sails and send them swiftly to Italy. Once more, Paul repeated to both Julius and Rama his revelation.
"If we leave Crete now, the ship, its cargo and all of us will die at sea."
Yet the advice of experienced sailors was heeded over that of a tent-making rabbi who had sailed a few times before. With the south wind and with all hopes, the Alexandrians let loose their sails and pushed off into the sea. Paul was now going further than he had ever gone on his Great Commission. In a few days time, it was predicted, they would soon be in Rome and Paul would at last be at the end of his travels.
Storm! A hurricane plowed through the Mediterranean on its way east and northward, catching the tiny Alexandrian ship in a storm so great that the storms of the sea of Galilee were pathetically feeble in comparison. For three days and nights, which all were endless, rainy, wet hours of darkness, the sailors fought on against impossible odds. The immortal sun was hidden, and the stars, the shepherds of the night sky, did not break through the dark clouds of the storm. All hope was gone.
One night, after aiding the sailors in their long and horrible onslaught against the storm, an exhausted Julius made his way below to speak with Paul.
"The gods have forsaken us," he sighed. "Neptune is relentless in his wrath, and nothing we can do seems to be enough."
"That's why you should have stayed in Crete," Paul replied.
Julius sighed, his face falling into his hands.
"Take heart, though," Paul added. "Even if the ship is destroyed, none of the crew or prisoners will be lost."
"I thought you said we would die if we set sail," Julius said. "Now you're telling me something else?"
"Last night," Paul said. "While I was fasting, an angel, a servant of the God I belong to and serve, appeared to me: 'Do not fear', the angel said. 'You must stand before Caesar. Indeed, God has given you all those who sail with you.'"
"And you believe this to be true?" Julius asked.
"Yes, I believe it so, with all my heart."
"But how is that possible? What god has power over Neptune's tempest? Even Ulysses the great could not escape his wrath!"
Paul turned to Lucas, who handed to him an old, worn-out scroll. This he opened and looked upon.
"Do you speak Greek?" Paul asked.
"Yes," Julius nodded.
"Read this," he said, offering the book to him, pointing to a specific passage. "Aloud, please."
"'And it came to pass,'" Julius began. "'On a certain day, that He went into a ship with His disciples: and He said unto them, 'Let us go over unto the other side.' And they launched forth, but as they sailed, He fell asleep. And there came a storm of wind on the lake; and they were filled with water and were in jeopardy. And they came to Him, and awoke Him, saying: 'Master, master, we perish!' Then He arose and rebuked the wind and the raging of the water, and they ceased and there..."
"Go on," Paul urged.
"'And there was a calm.'" Julius finished. An amazed look passed over his face. "I think I agree with His disciples. 'What kind of man is obeyed by the wind and the waves?'"
"He is Jesus," Paul said. "The Christ, the Son of God, the very One I serve, and in whose name I preach."
Julius was stunned speechless at this, it seemed almost too good to be true. Looking out the small porthole in the ship, he saw the dark clouds billowing upward immeasurably, hiding the moon and the guiding stars from their eyes by night, and the invincible sun by day. Whatever Paul or this book might say, their present condition was beyond hopeless.
Two weeks of endless storms, and still no sight of land. Up from the hold, Paul made his way to the rain-soaked and wind-swept upper deck of the ship. All were about, attempting to do something or other to delay some great disaster. Just then, Julius saw the prisoner up from the hull.
"Get back below!" he shouted over the roar of the storm. "It's my life if you're washed overboard!"
"God has promised that none of us will be lost," Paul replied. "I have no fear of being lost at sea." He looked about. "Shouldn't we be trying to look for somewhere to land?"
"That's the problem!" Julius shouted back. "They fear we're approaching the rocky coast of the Adriatic."
"What?"
"They've already taken a sounding of the sea-bed!" Julius shouted. "We're at twenty phathoms!"
Suddenly, over the din of the rain and the wind and the crashing waves, one of the sailors shouted from the side of the ship. "Fifteen! Fifteen fathoms!"
"Drop four anchors from the stern before we break upon the rocks!" growled the voice of the behemoth-sized Alexandrian captain. "And pray to the gods for morning!"
Paul and Julius remained grounded as they saw the men, weak and weary, make their way across to the rear of the ship, as wave after wave bombarded them. Rain pelted them in the face like droplets of stinging ice, and the wind threatened to blow them off their feet on the slippery planks of the deck.
Suddenly, a pair of keen, dark eyes saw, through the wind and the rain, the sea-men taking the heavy covering off the skiffs.
"Captain!" he shouted to Julius. "You've got to stop them!"
"What?" the Roman queried.
"Them!" he pointed to where the men were now lashing ropes to the skiff and lowering it down into the raging sea. "They must stay with the ship!"
"Why?"
"If they leave, we will all die!"
Julius swore, but the raging storm drowned out his oath. Taking out his gladius, he made his way towards where the sailors were attempting to jump ship. Amid a clamor of angry cries and captain Julius threatening them with his sword, the skiff was cut loose and tossed into the sea, where it floundered for a moment, and then was overcome by the waves.
As it had been midnight when the crew's attempted mutiny was halted, they all returned to the hold to await the morning light. After a quick roll call and all two hundred six and seventy were present and accounted for, Paul raised his hand and spoke to those huddled in the hold, trying in vain to stay warm, if not dry.
"Good people," he said. "For two weeks, you have battled the storm and not had anything to eat. Please, you must have something to eat! It is for your own good! You have nothing to fear, for not even a single hair of your heads will be lost!"
One by one, the sailors and those of Julius' guard began to take their fill of what food they had left in store.
"After this is done," Julius said. "Get rid of what we don't eat." Scattered agreement came from this, mostly because, though a sound suggestion, it meant struggling once more against the tempest outside. The captain then turned to Paul.
"Get some rest," he said. "You at least can afford that luxury."
"No," Paul insisted. "I'd much rather help."
"But you're a tent-maker," Julius returned. "You're as helpful on a ship in a storm as a potter is in the heat of battle."
"Just give me something to do, anything," Paul added. "I don't like just sitting idly in the empty cargo hold."
"Even if you could be of use, I wouldn't risk your life. I have my commission to complete."
"And I have mine from my LORD," Paul retorted. "And He won't let any storms stop me from completing that commission, just as you won't let anything stop you from completing yours."
"Well, I'm not a god," Julius said. "So I don't have the power to keep everyone alive, just you. So stay below."
The hours were long and restless in the empty cargo hold. Paul huddled together with Lucas, Timothy, Demas and Aristarchus for warmth, as did the other prisoners. All was dark and dreary, with shadows swaying with the ship. Light down below was minimal, since the heavy waves, especially in a storm, could start fires by knocking a candle or lamp over. Not only was it dark, it was cold and wet, and there was a heavy stench of mildew and filthy bodies. Neither Roman, Egyptian or Jew could wash themselves, and, especially after two weeks below deck, drenched in the sea water, everyone stank of either fish or rancid body odor. The rats, also, that frequented the ships, were constantly seen in the empty cargo hold, since they had nowhere left to hide. Many were sick, since they could not drink the water of the sea and had wine or strong ale alone to drink and very little food.
Yet in that small group of five, prayers were sent upward to Heaven, just as Paul and Silas had done in the jail-cells of Philippi. Needless to say, since both Lucas and Timothy had been there and heard the reports, they knew that deliverance was close at hand.
Suddenly, the ship gave a violent jolt forward, knocking everyone and everything about in every direction. From the rear section of the ship, water started flowing in great, white billows, which seemed to get bigger and bigger with each ceaseless crash of the waves outside.
As the prisoners began making their way to where there was less water, one of the soldiers came walking down the stairs into the lower deck, gladius in hand.
"Marcus, hold!" Julius' voice shouted from the top of the stairs. The centurion followed after his subordinate.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Standard shipwreck procedure."
"W-W-Wait, wait a minute!" Demas asked, fear in his voice. "What's 'standard shipwreck procedure?'"
"'In the event of a shipwreck,'" Julius recited. "'Where the cargo includes prisoners, they must be...'"
"'Killed,'" Marcus finished. "'So they don't escape.'"
"Stand down, Marcus." Julius instructed.
"It's our duty..."
"To Hell with our duty!" Julius shouted. "Stand down, that's an order!"
"Sir," Marcus returned. "With all due respect, if they escape, your life will be forfeit."
"Then you can kill me yourself," Julius retorted. "You are dismissed."
"Is that..."
"Yes, it's an order, by Pluto! Now go!"
Marcus nodded, then went back up the stairs.
"Alright, listen up!" Julius announced to the prisoners. "We're going ashore. Anyone who can swim should start right now. If you can't, grab onto pieces of the ship." A huge explosion was heard and a white wall of water rushed into the room.
"Now!"
It was nothing short of a miracle. Two hundred six and seventy there were on-board the ship, and two hundred six and seventy Julius and captain Rama counted out once they arrived on the beach. As if that were not enough, they soon encountered the inhabitants of the island. History records them as being barbarians, yet the people of Rome considered anyone who was not Roman to be barbarian. Nevertheless, these people were hospitable and kind, even to the Romans. They took them in from the rain and brought them a place where they had some shelter from the wind and a fire to keep them warm.
Around this fire, the two hundred six and seventy gathered in a loose circle. Paul remained with his companions for a time, then excused himself and took a seat near Julius.
"Captain, may I ask you something?" Paul inquired. Julius grunted in allowance. "Why? Why did you disobey your orders?"
"I don't know," Julius replied after a long, thoughtful silence. "Perhaps part of me actually believes your stories."
"They're more than stories, Julius. They are more real than Heaven and earth and everything within them!"
"If you'd said that to me," Julius laughed. "When we first met in Caesarea, I would have laughed you to scorn. Now..." He looked out at the people - two hundred six and seventy all present and accounted for, even the other prisoners had not escaped.
"Now...I don't know. It's nothing short of a miracle that we all survived the storm, or that these barbarians were so kind to us." He sighed, then turned back to the fire.
"It's dying," he said. "We need more wood."
"Where are the fagots?" Paul asked.
"No, I can get Marcus to..."
"Please, now that we're on land," Paul replied. "I want to help. I've been idle for far too long." He then turned to one of the islanders, who spoke some Greek, who directed him to a place where several fagots were laid under leaves for drying against the rain. Picking one up, he carried it over to the fire, when...
"Ahh!" he shouted, dropping the bundle prematurely, sending a shower of sparks in all directions. He held up his right hand, which had a long, thin, black shape clinging to it.
"Dolofonos!" the islanders began to whisper among each other: the Greek word for 'murderer.' They also stared up at the short old man's hand, where the long black serpent was clinging by its teeth. With a strong wave, he shook the wyrm off and it fell into the fire, burning with a sickening hiss. He then walked back to his friends, all the while the islanders were gazing at him in awe and fear. That done, he returned to Lucas and the others. Meanwhile, Julius overheard some of the islanders speaking in Greek.
"Survived the sea, but he won't survive that."
So it was that, early the next morning, as the sun was finally breaking through the storm-clouds, Julius and his men awoke to cries of alarm, followed by trance-like wails and howls. Though they had tossed their armor into the sea, each of them kept their gladius at hand, so he ordered them to draw their swords as he led them to the source of the noise. They found Paul and his companions, surrounded by the barbarians of the island, who seemed to be chanting and bowing before Paul, who was trying in vain to dissuade them.
"What in the name of Jove's flaming manhood is this?" Julius exclaimed.
"Your pardon, centurion," Lucas said, pulling himself away from the others and now standing before Julius. "There seems to be a misunderstanding of what happened last night."
"What did happen?" Julius asked.
"Paul was bitten by a snake," Lucas reminded him. "While he was gathering wood for the fire. Later that evening, I inquired concerning it among the islands: apparently that snake was poisonous. Most people die instantly or swell up overnight."
Julius looked at Paul, who was trying to get the islanders up off their feet. He looked quite healthy for a man of his age, no swelling or even redness of the skin.
"By the sword of Mars!"
"No," Lucas shook his head. "By the grace of God and His Son Jesus!"
(AN: I didn't find the last chapter boring, but, in fear of boring you out in this chapter, I cut it off here. The details will be addressed in the next chapter.)
(As with Joshua, influence for this chapter came from heavy metal sources as well. The intro from "A Sorcerer's Pledge" by Candlemass came in handy, especially during the two weeks in the dark tempest on the sea. I also elaborated on how horrible it would have been, being in a stuffy cargo hold for two weeks and all that, hopefully bring that more to life. Also, a gladius is a real Roman sword used in that era.)
(I don't own Candlemass, so please don't sue me!)