Miracle at Golgotha by Augustus (reading rainbow books .TXT) 📖

would think.”
“I see your point,” said Dimas. He rose and ambled a short distance from the campfire. His head turned up. A full moon drifted from behind the clouds and lit a distant mountain, turning whitewashed cliffs into blue pearls. Dimas returned to his original spot and eased himself to a squatting position once again. “Here’s what I think,” he said, as he held up the four weathered fingers of his left hand. “There’s going to be four of us. Barabbas has agreed to join us. I spoke with him earlier today.”
Titus was not surprised at his father’s assumption that his son would join them in the robbery. He knew his father was not providing him with a choice in the matter. But the entire scheme troubled him beyond the physical danger involved. The Jews in the Temple and especially Rabbi Moshe had treated him and his mother well. He would hate to dispossess them of anything, even if his success was assured. “Maybe we could rob the Romans’ quarters instead.”
“You can’t be serious. What on earth would we want from them?” asked Gestas.
“Gestas is right,” said Dimas. “The legionnaires have meager possessions and the wealth of their leader, Pontius Pilate, is beyond our reach. We’d be walking into our own death-trap if we set foot in the Tower of Antonia.” He shot a quick glance at Gestas then at Titus. “What’s wrong with taking from the rich Jews?”
The rhetorical question hung in the air as the fire flickered and danced. Titus loved sitting out here with the men. He only wished they were conspiring plots other than robbing the holiest of places.
“And what about Rabbi Moshe?” asked Dimas.
Titus avoided his father’s gaze and stared into the fire. “What about him?”
“Will he help us rob the temple?”
This time it was Titus who was incredulous. “A rabbi helping to rob the Temple? I don’t think that’s going to happen. He’s one of them, not one of us.”
“Is he now?” asked Dimas. He reached for a small log and threw it on the blaze, causing a million sparks to scatter like frightened fireflies into the darkening skies. “Jerusalem, they say is a city of many secrets.” His eyes followed an ember upward until it extinguished itself. “But some secrets seep out without their owners’ knowledge.”
What does that mean, thought Titus. This was the second time his mother’s repeating rendezvous with the rabbi had been brought up, first by Simon and now by his father. Or was it? Maybe his father was referring to something altogether different. Only one way to find out. “What secrets are you referring to?”
Gestas chuckled and pointed in Leah’s direction. “Let’s just say your mother gets along exceedingly well with the rabbi for a converted gentile.”
Titus straightened his back. Somehow the insinuation that he, too, was a converted Gentile didn’t unsettle him. “They’re good friends. The rabbi is my friend, too.”
“I’m sure he is,” mumbled Dimas. “I’m sure he is.”
Dimas’ words hung in the air for a long time. Then the silence became awkward. Titus rose and pointed with his thumb. “I forgot. Mother said the food’s almost done.”

Chapter 7

“Here’s the plan for tonight,” said Dimas. Gestas, Barabbas and Titus sat around a clear spot on the ground on which Dimas was using a stick to draw a diagram.
“I thought you were going to wait till the Sabbath to enter the Temple. Tonight’s only Thursday.” Titus glanced at the other men and they, too, had a confused expression.
“We are,” said Dimas.
“But you just said we’re going tonight.”
“Pay attention, Boy!” snapped Dimas. “I did not say we’re robbing the Temple. We’re going to rob the Romans.”
Titus wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. The men had already made clear the only wealth to pilfer from the Romans would be from Pontius Pilate himself. There was no way they’d come out alive if they tried to rob him. As the fifth Prefect of the Roman province of Judea, Pilate had only been in Jerusalem seven years but he was as heavily guarded in Herod’s Palace as the Emperor Tiberius was in Rome.
Without a tone of doubt or uncertainty Gestas asked, “Alright, what’s the plan?”
With the stick he held, Dimas drew a rectangle, scratched a long line and connected it to a second rectangle. He pointed to the first. “This is the Temple.” He moved the stick along the line. “And this is the Tower.”
“Oh, so we’re not going into Herod’s Palace?” asked Titus. Dimas glared at him wearing that expression that always made Titus feel he’d said something stupid. He wondered whether Barabbas and Gestas were pondering the same question running through his head. What were they stealing?
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Dimas, “And no, we won’t get caught. Here’s why.” Now, he had everyone’s undivided attention. “We’re going into the Tower to steal the Jewish vestments.” He paused to let the words sink in.
“But they’re holy relics and there’s Hebrew laws against public display of them unless it’s for ceremonial services,” said Titus, shaking his head.
“Holy Schmoly!” said his father with exaggerated alarm in his voice. “What do you think this is, some exercise in civil obedience? We’re robbing the damn place!”
Barabbas and Gestas burst into laughter and Titus couldn’t help but smile along with them. He should have known his father would ignore the Hebrew laws just as he did all the others that got in his way.
“Nobody will want to buy the vestments once you have them,” said Titus. “They’re too easily identified and traceable to us. The vestments won’t be of much use to us, at least not in Jerusalem.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he thought of the ease with which he had associated himself with his father’s dastardly plot. Could it be that he was actually looking forward to the execution of his father’s plan?
“O ye of little faith,” smiled Dimas. He put his arm around Titus shoulders. “It’s not the actual vestments we want to profit from. It’s the diversion they will create for us. That’s where you come in, son.”
Titus was beginning to see that his knowledge of Hebrew customs and practices as well as the layout of the Temple was going to be put to full use.
Dimas tightened the hug around his son. “Tonight, you’re going to pose as a courier for your mother’s rabbi friend and we’re going to act as your slaves.”
“Me?” asked Titus.
“Yes, you,” answered Dimas. He shot a glance at Barabbas “I was thinking maybe we’ll keep Barabbas out of sight, since he might be recognized by the Roman soldiers more so than Gestas or me.”
Barabbas and Gestas nodded in approval.
Titus was still unclear. “So, if we do rob the Tower, how does that create a disturbance at the Temple on the Sabbath?”
“I’ve decided we’re not robbing the Temple on the Sabbath. We’re doing it tomorrow instead, and it’ll be more than a disturbance. When they learn that their precious garments are missing, we want the Jews to riot and cause mayhem in the streets.”
Barabbas spoke for the first time in the planning. “What is my role while you’re in the Tower tonight?”
“You, my friend, are the muscle in the group. You’ll subdue the Roman guard at the north entrance to the Tower. From what Titus tells us, there is almost no activity there in the late hours in the fourth watch. Don’t kill him unless you have to. From that point forward, it’s Titus, Gestas and me. We locate the vestments, take the more valuable-looking ones and leave promptly.”
Then, it was Gestas’ turn. “Dimas, I might be sounding like your boy, but how do the vestments help us tomorrow?”
Titus grinned.
“It works like this,” said Dimas, leaning down to scribble on the ground again. “Assuming things go well tonight, we’ll use the news of our robbery to cause a stir at the Temple tomorrow. As I understand, there is to be a sacrificial ceremony scheduled at sunset.” He was poking at the ground where the East Gate to the Temple grounds would be. “Those Jews are very fond of their rituals and garments, aren’t they, Titus?”
“Yes, that is true,” answered Titus, “but I’m not sure a few missing vestments will cause the commotion you seek.”
“When we start the rumors and gossip about the theft of the vestments, I plan on spicing up the story and let it spread like a wild fire. You’ll see.”
The evening shadows were spreading from the Mount of Olives across the Kidron Valley and Titus felt a cold blanket of shame come over him. It was an effort for him to get motivated, knowing what a show of false manhood the evening would require. In a few hours he’d be putting his life in danger, and for what? To please his father, to prove his manhood, or simply to save face?
Hours later, the three men and Titus sat once again staring at the campfire. Their criminals’ meeting having been concluded, Dimas playfully lobbed a twig in Titus’ direction.
“So, tell me of this prophet, Jesus. What do you know of him?”
Titus picked up the twig and threw it back at Dimas, who blocked it with his forearm and ducked his head. “He’s a teacher of peace. He teaches that we ought to love one another because fighting and hating is not healthy or good. He’s performed miracles like healing a leper. I saw it with my own eyes. People say he brought sight to a blind man and that he walked on water. Jesus himself says we’re all equal in the eyes of our God and Creator.”
Gestas looked on and chuckled. “And what God would that be? Jupiter, Zeus, or maybe Venus?”
Titus was not thrown by the levity in Gestas’ question. “No, Jesus teaches there is only one God, but his god is not one of those. In fact, he’s right here, listening to us right now.”
With those words, Barabbas sat up erect and looked around as Gestas reached for his dagger. Dimas remained calm and glanced from one man to the other.
Then a woman’s voice spoke. “I’m surprised you men have not heard of this prophet’s teachings.” It was Leah.