(AN: Yes, new chapters are fun.)
Conspiracy
c. 62 AD
Though Paul was kept under guard, he was also allowed to hold berth at a modest house in Rome and receive visitors. He first held council with many of the Jewish Romans, telling them about his plight and spreading the good news of Jesus to them. Unfortunately, the reception was just as bad as it had been among the Jews in other places.
As he stood in the middle of his house, his people, the sons of Israel, angry and shouting death threats at him and crying out against him, he hung his head. Though his guard kept the Jews from attacking, Paul knew he was safe, but he was not in any way happier. In fact, now he felt exactly what, as he had heard, the Christ Himself must have felt when the people of Israel refused Him.
"Truly," he began sorrowfully. "The LORD, our God, spoke truly when He said to Isaias: 'Go and tell your people: "You hear and do not understand, you see yet you have not perceived. For your hearts are waxed gross, your ears have lost their hearing and you have closed your eyes, or else you would see, hear, understand and turn to be healed!"'
"Leave, then!" he shouted. "But the Salvation is now open to the ears of the Gentiles, and they at least will listen!"
c. 64 AD
To say that Paul had been idle while in Rome would indeed be a great lie. Over the next two years, Paul made many converts to the faith and sent many missionaries in his stead. Unfortunately, one of them, Demas, never returned. It was not out of martyrdom, but his own choice. After seeing Paul 'imprisoned' and knowing that there would be neither fame nor fortune in following him, he left and was never heard from again. Needless to say, it was like John Mark all over again.
While Paul's friends and fellow missionaries went westward - to Iberia and the lonely isle of Briton, so the legends say - Paul turned his thoughts and pen eastward. As Priscilla and Aquila had once suggested, he wrote to those believers in Rome, then continued outward, writing to Corinth, Galatia, Ephesus, Philippi, Colosse and Thessaloniki and all those he had befriended along his journeys.
During the time, Paul befriended a young man named Onesimus, a slave from Colosse who had been falsely accused of theft. Over time, he converted to the faith and Paul sent him back to Colosse with a letter to his master Philemon. In addition, Paul kept a close correspondence with young Timothy, who went on missions for Christ. As if to replace his constant absence, Paul was soon visited by a new friend.
"Shalom, Paul!" the old fisher of men greeted as he entered the house. With a rattle of the chains, Paul rose to his feet, the soldier walking after him to give him slack. The two embraced and shared a kiss upon the cheek.
"Shalom, Peter!" the old rabbi replied. "I'm surprised to see you here."
"The people you've visited," Peter said. "Long to speak with those who have walked and spoken with our beloved LORD. As there are so few living, I was sent from Jerusalem to Antioch to visit the believers."
"What about John?" Paul asked.
"He remains in Ephesus," Peter replied. "After the death of Maryam, he has done little other than write."
Paul's face fell. "Which Maryam?"
"The one who was put into John's keeping by Jesus," Peter said. "She died almost ten years ago."
Paul was amazed. He remembered the last time he saw her: she was still alive, old, yes, but did not seem at the end of her life. It was so amazing that she would die: deep down inside, perhaps out of some distant romantic notion, Paul believed that Maryam would not die.
"What of the other Maryam?" Paul asked. "The one from Magdala?"
"She died recently," Peter stated. "She destroyed an image of Artemis in Ephesus, crying out that she would never be slaved to 'them' again: the priests tore her to pieces in broad daylight."
Paul sighed. Peter then began to relay to him news of several others who had died. So far, almost no news was received regarding the other members of the Twelve. They must have been kept safe in their missions. He prayed for their safety, and lamented the loss of those others he had known and loved.
They enjoyed a simple yet hearty meal together, and shared how the fellowship of believers had grown both in Jerusalem and in Rome. Aside from the every-day persecutions, they both enjoyed healthy growth. Paul related his surprisingly warm reception by the Caesar, which surprised Peter.
"This is news indeed," he said. "Especially considering all that I have heard about him."
"What have you heard?"
Peter looked warily at the guard, then spoke in a low voice: "That he killed his own mother, committed adultery with the woman who is now his empress, then banished his first wife so he could marry this woman now that she was bearing his child."
"Outrageous!" Paul hissed, then mused more on this. "Still, it is possible that he could have had a change of heart. I myself am proof that even a Pharisee of the Pharisees could be saved by the faith of Jesus. Anything is possible."
July 18th, 64 AD. Two minutes to midnight.
The Emperor stood before the servants who had been brought before him as requested: three deaf-mutes who could understand hand gestures. He dismissed the guards, assuring them that there was no cause for alarm. He then turned to the servants, speaking slowly and using determined gestures with his hands.
"I know you can understand me," Nero said to them. "I am your Emperor, by rights you obey my command and keep silent regarding its particulars. Do you understand?"
The servants nodded one by one.
"I want you to go to the Circus Maximus," he said. "Find a way to start..." He walked over to a nearby brazier, then turned to the servants. "...an accident. No witnesses. Do you understand?"
They nodded, albeit hesitantly.
"Do this," he said. "And you will earn the gratitude of Caesar, your one true god."
They departed, and Caesar himself then went his own separate way.
-|-~-|-O-|-~-|-
In the days of old, there was no way to accurately trace crimes as in the day of you, dear reader. The work of hands could not be read, nor could anything other than testimony of voice or signs that could be discerned by the eyes serve as incriminating evidence. For any king or Herod, accusing them of a crime or publicly defaming them met with death, as the case of John the Baptist clearly portrays. How much more, then, would one word against the Emperor of Rome bring in retribution?
It was the perfect crime. Deaf-mute servants could not hear other voices or orders, nor could they tell anyone what they did. Being Caesar, he was immune from criticism on pain of death. Even more so, he had sent Poppaea and the Imperial guard to Antium, along with a covered carriage bearing the standard and protected by the personal guard of the Emperor himself. No one would suspect that he came in secret to a hill overlooking the city, accompanied by only one servant.
Early morning, the city was now in flames. Looking like Pluto had vomited the fiery bowels of Hades upon the earth, a great smoke ascended in everlasting columns up to the sky.
Around three o'clock, the deaf-mute servants approached, and Nero commanded them to kneel before him. He approached them and made as if he would embrace them for their good work. Suddenly, each of them were slit across the throat by a dagger the Emperor had concealed upon his person. As if to both express their own torment and to cry out for those who could not, the screams of the dying people of Rome echoed in a horrifying symphony of destruction and death.
"Slave!" Nero called to the one attendant. "Bring me a small lyre."
(AN: There's a reference there to History of the World, pt. I with the 'small lyre' thing. Actually, though, it probably was a lyre and not a fiddle, since those weren't invented in the 1st century.)
(It might not be 'historically accurate', but it is going in my story: I also made it seem plausible in this story, what with using deaf-mute servants, sending his entourage and a covered carriage to Antium, bearing the Imperial standard and guarded by his personal guard. Also, and I'm sure this is bound to happen, comparisons will be made between this and the 9/11 conspiracy. Personally, I don't hold with that: I think that, if you want to say 9/11 was Bush's fault, then you must concede that Pearl Harbor was FDR's fault. I don't get into politics much, as said before.)
(I've made other metal references in this chapter, such as "Symphony of Destruction" and "Two Minutes to Midnight", both of which fit with Nero [especially "Kill for gain...but we don't need a reason"]. Not that big a fan of Iron Maiden, but thought it cute to include a reference to them. I've had Heaven and Hell in Joshua, Metallica in Exodus. Have I done Black Sabbath yet? I should. lol.)
(That also might be the last lol, because now we're approaching the darker parts of the story.)