brought fresh from the well. This place retained the welcome aroma of the herbs that grew there, imposing a peace that only the most anxious guest could defy.
“Right,” Yeshua whispered hurriedly, “we’re on our way to Jerusalem to offer sacrifices.”
“Oh that’s convincing!” Theudas chuckled.
“So what do we say? Oh, we just popped in to murder some soldiers?” Theudas’ face emptied itself of all expression.
Yeshua’s thought was so frantic it was almost audible. He had failed to concoct an alibi before his host reappeared.
“Breakfast will be here soon,” Yudah called, rubbing his hands on a cloth as he marched briskly across the terrace to take a seat next to his trading partners. “Now, did you see what just happened?”
“The execution?”
“All too common with this idiot as prefect.” There was a warm familiarity to Yudah’s voice. His greying beard and rosy cheeks combined with a body that had enjoyed no shortage of fine food and drink, brought a surprising depth of relief given all that had happened on so young a day. Yudah was a fine host who thrived on the company of others. He perched his excessive body on a low stonewall and leaned towards the brothers.
“Just let me say, I was horrified to hear about your brothers. Please send my sympathy to your Father. That prefect’s determined to cause misery everywhere he goes. Still, at least his toilet will be seeing plenty of traffic this morning! Maybe justice is . . .” Yudah paused, and sent a serious but curious frown at his guests.
“What’s that wrapped up in your cloaks?”
“Oh, it’s . . .” Yeshua knew that there would be no fooling Yudah.
“Swords!” Theudas cut in with a flash of inspiration. Or so he thought. “We took them from the soldiers we killed before dawn,” he laughed.
Yudah also laughed, allowing Yeshua to gather his thoughts as he smiled. “We were on our way to Jerusalem,” he said “but I don’t think we’ll be getting there in a hurry now.”
“How are things with you?” Theudas asked in a manner so far out of character that even a stranger would have noticed. He knew it, and his eyes attempted to chase after his words and stuff them back in his mouth.
You may as well have asked if we could change the subject, thought Yeshua. It was a sentiment carried on a glance that was not missed by their host.
“What were you doing in Narbata this early if you’re traveling to Jerusalem? Have you just left Caesarea?” Yudah frowned. “And . . . what have you got in those packs?” The brothers exchanged another frown that rendered futile any further attempt to conceal the truth. Yeshua lifted his hands to mark the end of the charade.
“Yes, we left Caesarea long before dawn this morning,” Yeshua confessed, leaving Yudah to work the rest out for himself. Every corner of the trader’s friendly face was besieged with a confusion, which eventually gathered at the side of his mouth, where a mild but restrained grin was slowly taking form.
“Please don’t tell me . . .” said Yudah, who paused again before composing himself. “But they were professional soldiers. You boys are traders.”
“Angry traders,” Theudas objected.
“Amateur soldiers,” added Yeshua.
“No . . . Seriously,” Yudah smiled as he shook his head. “You wouldn’t do that.” Yudah laughed. Then he stopped laughing. “You’re not rebels. You’re not violent. You’re not desperate . . .”
“We’re bereaved,” Yeshua interrupted, looking a little offended. “Our brothers have been taken from us. An eye for an eye.”
Yudah continued to shake his head. “This isn’t you,” he said, standing up and looking towards the sky. “You don’t do this,” he said to the brothers but addressed only himself. He turned to look at Theudas, who was losing the battle to contain his pride at the morning’s achievements. “Your father’s a rabbi,” Yudah frowned, “a rabbi who preaches peace . . . He wouldn’t support this.” He looked back to the brothers, expecting their look to confirm his denials. Their demeanor forced him to pause. “You wanted revenge. And you took it.”
Yudah was unable to conceal his admiration, “Mmmarvelous!” he declared with grave sincerity. Immediately the warmth returned to his face, “You’ll be sure to let me know if I start to get on your nerves.”
“We’re on our way to Joppa,” Yeshua explained, “but we weren’t expecting to get trapped here.”
“You really haven’t thought this through have you, boys. Our prefect’s going to be looking for you. He may be an atrocious prefect, but revenge is one thing he’s good at. He excels at it! You’ve seen that with your own eyes.”
“How could he possibly find us?” asked Theudas.
“Well, how long did it take me to force a confession out of you? At the very least you’ll need to stay with me and hide until the guards have left. All I can say is that you’re lucky you bumped into me.” Yudah shook his head and grinned at the heavens. “What is your father going to say about this?” He looked back at the brothers, abandoned his grin and paused. “You’re defying him.”
The late morning conversation in Yudah’s garden was interrupted by shouting from his gate. “Yudah, Yudah,” a voice short of breath bellowed from beyond and sent panic bouncing around the warming stonework of the haven.
3
Yudah was in no hurry. But then he never had been in a hurry of any kind and had gained too many pounds to start now. His eyes stayed with the brothers as he made an economic gesture towards his gate. “Now, let’s see what trouble you’ve brought with you,” he laughed, and touching Yeshua’s shoulder, carried his hefty frame towards the commotion. It was more than the depth of his voice. The strength of Yudah’s presence, like a tonic, continued to work its magic long after he had excused himself from their company. So present had he been to Yeshua, so inside this intolerable situation, and yet without condemnation or even shock, that a feeling of normality prevailed. Yeshua reclined, closed his eyes and, for the first time in an eternity, drew a breath unpolluted by fear.
Peace came likewise to the garden, with Yudah calming his new guest by waving his palms towards the floor. The conversation at the gatehouse was hurried but hushed, and Yeshua presumed that the agitated visitor was bringing news of events in the market place. The panic-stricken messenger, barely twenty years of age, looked awkward in his own body, which seemed far bigger than the person that rattled around inside it. His spirit and his manners of expression were no more under his control than was his physique, and all conspired to draw Yudah to share their panic. If there existed a negative version of all that their host embodied, it stood before him in the form of this young man.
“Well, we can’t be blamed for not planning this part of our journey too well,” Theudas yawned.
“Why’s that?” asked Yeshua, still transfixed by the gatehouse drama.
“Er—because we never expected to be making it.”
Yeshua turned to his brother and felt a burden lift as he chuckled through his nose.
“We shouldn’t have pulled this off. We should be dead by now. Who knows what we’ve got to face next!”
“What have we started?”
“I don’t know but if it’s revenge you want then perhaps we should stick around and see it through”
“See it through?”
“Er—Look at them,” Theudas threw his eyes across his motionless head towards the gate, as though Yeshua hadn’t noticed the scene. “This morning we watched an innocent man die . . . There’ll be repercussions, Yeshua. Look at Yudah!”
Yudah exuded