Christ the Lord - Anne Rice [37]
I caught a glimpse of Jason, who was bursting with excitement and gesturing wildly to his uncle. But all begged him to stop and wait and tell the tale to the whole village.
Finally benches were dragged out of the synagogue and up the slope, and soon some fifteen hundred or so men and women were massed in the open area, torch begetting torch, as Jason made his way up to the place of honor, along with his companions.
I couldn't see Silent Hannah anywhere. Of course Shemayah was not there, and certainly there was no sign of Avigail. But then, again, it was difficult to tell.
People were embracing and clapping their hands, kissing one another, dancing. The children were in a paroxysm of delight. And James was crying. My brothers had brought Joseph and Alphaeus along slowly. Some of the other elders were also late in coming.
Jason waited. He stood on the bench, embracing his companion, and only then as the torches drew in, clearly illuminating them both, did I realize that the companion was Hananel's grandson, Reuben.
My mother recognized him at the same moment, and the word spread in a whisper through all of us, as we stood crowded together.
I hadn't told them any of what Hananel had said to me. I had not even asked the Rabbi why he hadn't warned me that Hananel's grandson had once come to court Avigail.
But all knew how the grandfather had grieved for two years for this lost son who had gone abroad, and soon the name “Reuben bar Daniel bar Hananel” was being whispered everywhere.
He was elegant, this one, and beautifully dressed in linen robes just as was Jason, with the same barbered beard and anointed hair, though both were thoroughly soiled from the long hard ride, and neither seemed to care about this.
Finally the whole town shouted for the men to tell the story.
“Six days,” declared Jason, holding up his fingers so that we might count. “Six days we stood before the palace of the Governor and demanded that he remove his brazen and blasphemous images from our Holy City.”
Shouts of wonder and approval rose in a soft roar.
“ ‘Oh, but this would give injury to our great Tiberius,’ the man told us,” Jason cried. “And we to him, ‘He's always respected our laws in the past.’ And understand that for every day we remained firm, more and more men and women came to join us. Understand that Caesarea was overflowing! In and out of the palace of the Governor went the men who presented our petitions, and no sooner were they dismissed than they returned and presented them again, until at last the man had had his fill of it.
“And all the while soldiers had come pouring in, soldiers taking up their stands at every gate, at every door, and all along the walls that bounded the pavement before the judgment seat.”
The crowd gave a loud roar before he could go on, but he gestured for quiet, and continued.
“At last, sitting there before the great mass of us he declared that the images would not be removed. And giving the signal brought his soldiers to full arms against us! Swords were drawn. Daggers lifted. We saw ourselves on every side surrounded by his men, and we saw our deaths right in front of us—.”
He stopped. And as the crowd murmured and shouted and finally roared, he gestured for quiet again and came to the finish.
“Did we not remember the advice our elders had given us?” Jason asked. “Did we need to be told that we are a people of peace? Did we need to be cautioned that Roman soldiers would soon hold our breath in their hands, no matter how many of us had banded together?”
The shouts came from all around.
“On the ground, we threw ourselves,” Jason cried. “On the very ground, and we bowed our heads, and we bared our necks to those swords—all of us. Hundreds of us did this, I tell you. Thousands of us. We bared our necks, all of us, to a man, fearlessly and silently, and those who were left to speak told the Governor what he already knew, that we should surely die—all of us, to a man, as we knelt there!—before we would see our laws overturned, our customs