“Tell him that.” Titus spun away. He was anxious to be away from this scene, to leave his companions and the crowds and have time to think through what he had seen, what he had felt. He had to decide what to do about it.
The crowd was thin now, only a handful remaining on the hillside where before hundreds had been gathered. Titus looked at them for the first time, wondering what had brought them and what kept them. Were some of them the relatives of the criminals? Were some of them the followers of the King of the Jews? If he shouted out his questions, would there be anyone to answer them?
As if this mysterious God was directing him, his eyes fell on one figure, who was curled up in a small ball of pain. He set his jaw in resignation and determination.
*
When the skies opened, when the earth shook, something tore within Abigail too. The pain was unbelievable, coiling at the small of her back and then springing forward. Her entire body responded, stumbling to the ground. She knew that it was her baby, ready to make his appearance. But the pain of the contraction was so great she could not move, she could not get up, she could only moan and bite down until her jaw hurt.
Her eyes searched for the face of Jesus, but she saw that it was lifeless now, and her heart wrenched. Her gaze fell. The people who had been in front of her had left, and she could see the activity at the foot of the cross. The centurions were there, three of them looking at the other as he mouthed a few words, his eyes on the cross.
She knew the man. She knew what he said. She felt the echo of the statement within herself. Jesus was the Son of God, Christ, the messiah, and she had just watched him give up his life. The thrill, the terrifying panic, and the underlying peace all settled within her. She still lay where she had fallen, but as the contraction passed, she relaxed, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.
When she looked again, Titus strode toward her. She was still too weak to so much as sit up when he knelt down at her side.
“What did you see today?” He brushed an escaped lock of hair back from her face.
The question did not seem odd to Abigail. She smiled peacefully, and the evening sun broke through the clouds in a mirror of her expression. “I have seen the messiah, sacrificed for the sins of the world. I have seen God made man.”
Titus nodded, then sent his gaze over her. “You are in pain.”
“It is passing.” The ache in her back was so bad she could not straighten it out.
“The baby?”
“He is coming.” She pressed a hand to where the child had dropped and squeezed her eyes shut. “I need to get home. I tried to leave when you told me to, but the crowds–”
“I understand. I will help you home.”
*
When she struggled to sit up, Titus saw that she needed more than a little assistance. He scooped her up. Over his shoulder, he said to his fellows, “I am leaving.”
“But there is still work to attend to!”
He turned so that Abigail was visible to them, her face turned into his shoulder in pain, her stomach looking large against her slight frame. “Jason’s child is on its way.” He knew the name of their fallen friend would carry weight. Jason had been known and loved by most of the members of the garrison. “I am taking her home.”
This time, he was met with nods instead of objection. Titus turned again and headed for the city.
“Thank you.” Abigail tried to stifle a whimper in his shoulder. “Why does the pain not ebb?”
He did not know, and the question ignited another trace of fear within him. Many women died in childbirth, many children with them. He knew that, but he could not believe it would happen to her, or to Jason’s child. “Your and your babe will be well. By tomorrow, you will be a mother, and you will have a child to inherit Jason’s legacy.”
“Jason believed.” She raised her head a few inches to look up into his face. She undoubtedly saw the way his eyes widened. “He listened to Cleopas, about the stories of Jesus. When no one else heard him, Jason did. I did not understand, but I do now. There is so much I wish I had paid attention to.”
Something clenched up inside. A strange pride, perhaps even relief. It coupled with determination. Once again, Jason had led the way. This time, he would follow. “We will learn. We will both find someone to tell us of this Christ. When he looked at me, when he touched me–I will never be the same, Abigail. Only now do I realize how much I needed to change. But I know not how.”
“He did not come to change the commands of Jehovah, but to fulfill them. That is what Cleopas said. The Laws are still our guides.”