When Samuel took his usual place in her lap, she wrapped grateful arms around him. He had ony been with them for two weeks, but he felt as much a part of her world as the others in this room.
“I am getting too old for this kind of excitement,” Ester said. “These are the moments when I wish I had married a merchant, a scholar, a workman–anything but a soldier. I cannot imagine what it would be like if we were at war! I would not know a moment of peace.”
“They are capable soldiers. They will return soon, as they always do.” The words came easily to Abigail’s lips, but they felt empty
“I know.” Ester sighed. “But it makes the wait no easier.”
Abigail said nothing. But silently, she agreed.
*
Jason heard the name run through the ranks like Bacchical drink, turning expectation into desire for blood. Barabbas. The rumored attacks were finally taking place. The rebel had acted, staged his mighty coup. And now they would get to raze his ambitions as the walls of Thermopylae. Tonight, he would be crushed. The “Son of a Father” would leave his parents childless; they would kill the thief and be rid of his poisonous influence once and for all.
They did not tarry long. The officers gave their commands to their men and they all took off at a trot in various directions. This particular uprising appeared to be well planned. There were reports from all around the city of different attacks being waged on the soldiers’ positions, and the demand for reinforcements was intense.
Jason took the time to mutter a prayer of thanksgiving that he had not been on duty that night. Injured men were being carried past them, and they were the ones who had been assaulted first, when their guards were down.
Now, everyone was alert and ready for battle. Even Cleopas, who would usually have been expected to stay at the garrison and supervise activity there, took command of the men whose centurion had been wounded already and headed into the streets.
Jason and Cleopas headed off in the same general direction, and a glance around showed Jason that Titus and his group of soldiers were nearby as well. The look on the Roman’s face was fearsome, and it made him smile. Any rebel to get in Titus’s way would know true terror before he was cut down.
Shouts echoed through the streets, furious cries of pain and rage. Behind the barred doors of the residences, all was silent. The people were probably awake, but they huddled inside without even lighting a lamp. Still, Jason imagined their fear seeping out into the roadways, sliding over soldiers and forming puddles of darkness on the ground, where the moonlight could not reach.
The sound of metal clashing against metal reached Jason’s ears; it was familiar enough. For years, he had watched and taken part in drills, perfecting his swordsmanship, learning how to fight well and win. But he could not deceive himself into thinking of this as an exercise; this was a test, the ultimate kind. He had never been in the frenzy of a battle before, but it was unmistakable. The panting of men pushing themselves to their limits in the effort to be victorious blended into the incessant pounding of soldier’s shoes upon the stones that paved the way to the action.
“Attack!” The cry came from above them, and Jason and his men all coiled in anticipation of their enemies’ obedience. Before he could blink, there was a roar of barbaric voices, and a cloud of men bore down from the walls, hitting them on all sides. They had obviously been training for this moment a long time.
The Romans had been training longer. His men did not panic, they did not run. They held their formation until the rebels began to scatter, and then pursued as Jason called out the command to regroup at the corner in a few moments.
Without fail, the mutineers were routed and quelled. Without fail, more came to take their places. The battle raged on, taking the form of small skirmishes that Jason kept thinking would be over quickly. But every time one group fled and the Romans pursued, they ran into more of the Hebrew rebels.
By his count, all of Jason’s men were unharmed but growing weary. He was, too, but it was irrelevant. He was not sure if he had been lucky enough to fall into an area with a high concentration of the outlaws, or if they had recruited so many that their numbers allowed them to attack the soldiers all over the city in such force. But the question did not matter. All that mattered was bringing peace back to Jerusalem.
He was chasing down a man who was fleet of foot and was quickly losing him. Breathing hard, Jason decided not to pursue too far from his position, so turned back. His body moved just in time to freeze at the horrible vision that met his eyes.
Cleopas, strong, able, good Cleopas had been engaged by a bear of a man whose every blow had forced his father back until he was against the wall. His attacker was merciless. Jason realized in a flash that Cleopas would fall under that man’s brutal sword.