“Yes, but anyone can offer it. I can offer it. That does not mean I have the authority to make it good.”
Andrew turned to face her, his deep eyes reflecting all the thoughts that swarmed through his mind. “I have no answers, my friend, only questions. But it seems to me, if no one ever asked, they would never be taught. Perhaps this carpenter is Messiah. Perhaps he is not. Perhaps there is no Messiah foretold. All I know is that the Law, while good, is impossible to keep fully. I have sinned. You have sinned. Master has sinned. And how do we know if all the good we have done has been enough to outweigh the bad? How can anyone fallen hope to join his ancestors in the bosom of Abraham? Our God will forgive if we ask, yes, but how? Who takes the guilt?”
“Why would anyone have to?” she returned. “Why can it not just vanish? Omnipotence can surely accomplish that.”
Andrew sighed. “I know not. I will wait, watch, listen to Master as he listens to Vetimus, who will keep following this would-be Christ. And in the meantime, we should go in. Mistress will wish your presence soon.”
Abigail nodded and let him use the hand he still held to assist her to her feet. She would not worry about this Jesus of Nazareth. She had her own concerns. Best to leave the man to the discussions of the men for now and concentrate on her own life. There was no need to be borrowing troubles.
Chapter Eight
By the end of Passover, Jason was ready to go back to Rome. He had told himself countless times over the preceding months that his distaste for Hebrew traditions had been more imagination than fact. But after being thrown back into the gut of their beliefs, he realized he had not exaggerated in his memories at all. The same story told again, the same words recited, the same food on the table. The same celebrating in the streets, as if Israel had just escaped Egypt.
It had been centuries ago! he wanted to scream. It does not matter anymore!
But he kept it to himself, now. He would not insult his mother anymore. He would not make her fear for his immortal soul by expressing his doubt in her God. Besides, it was basically the same Hades that was offered to the Jews as to the Greeks. What did it matter? He would just bathe in the River Lethe, sweet waters of oblivion, and never be bothered again by these petty things of life.
Of course, Rome had their remembrances, too. Although Divine Augustus had deemed them not proud enough of their heritage so had ordered the poet Virgil to write his Aeneid, figuring that if the Greeks had the Iliad and Odyssey to proclaim their brilliant heritage, so should Romans. And if Jason preferred the original Greek stories to their more recent counterparts, it was probably because he had read them first, and Virgil’s masterpiece had just seemed a copy. Either way, it was better than these ridiculous recitations of Law.
But it was over now. Passover would not come again for another year. That, indeed, was something to praise God for. At least he had only ordered the observation to be annual.
“Master Visibullis?”
Jason turned at the voice, his eyes falling on a man of greater girth than height. His skin was oily, sweat beaded on his brow, but his eyes looked honest enough. “Sido, I presume?”
The man nodded. “What news have you for our lord Asinius?”
Jason smiled. “Nothing much. His son has been adjusting well, staying out of trouble, getting to know his troops. He has been sober and abstinent, as far as I know.”
Sido grinned. “We will see how long that lasts. My bet is on a month at the most.”
Jason chuckled. “You give him much credit. I say another few days, and he will have located the most attractive harlot in Judea and convinced her to donate her services free of charge.”
“I am certain our lord Asinius would expect nothing less. Titus is, after all, a man.”
“Indeed.” And a man had needs. He would have to do something about his own soon enough.
Sido reached into his money bag and pulled out a few coins of gold. “Your wage.”
Jason shook his head. “It is too much for nothing of interest.”
Sido shrugged. “It is what I was told to give you. If you do not want it, I will keep it myself.”
Jason took the coins and dropped them into his own purse. “Tell your master that his generosity outweighs his wisdom, Sido.”
The man barked a laugh. “I would rather live to see another day, Lord. I will see you in a month.”
“Indeed. May I have no more to tell you then.”
“Indeed. Farewell.”
Jason nodded and left the meeting place, heading back into the walls of Jerusalem. It was his day off; this evening he would be on watch, the next day he would rest to be ready for his normal routine the following morning. For now, he was free, so he figured he would browse through the markets before going home. He had barely reached them when he heard a familiar voice hailing him.