Chapter 06
In the morning Publius was awoken by the sound of movement in the room. He opened his eyes and made out the dim shape of the woman laying the fire and then mixing flour and water to make bread. From outside came more noises as a cock crowed and water was poured into a trough. Publius recognised Geta's voice as he chatted to the Syrian while they watered the horses and whatever other animals there were in the place.
After breakfast Publius took four denarii from his purse and offered them to his host. The man's eyes glittered greedily but he made no move to take them and called for his slave, who came in, saw the coins in Publius' hand and came forward to receive them.
"Please forgive my master, kurios," he explained. "He does not mean to be discourteous, but it is his religion. He is forbidden to touch anything you have touched."
When they were outside the house Publius slipped another denarius to the Syrian. "I don't know whether you can buy your freedom," he said, "but here's something to help you if you can."
The man grimaced. "I doubt it, kurios. Their religion forbids them to give a gentile slave his freedom, so he won't be in a hurry to let me go. I thank you for the thought, though. Truth to tell, kurios, he isn't too bad a master now and I thank Rabbi Joshua every day for whatever He said to him. It's made a world of difference."
"How's the horse?" Publius called to Geta as he led the horses round to the front of the shack.
Geta pulled a long face. "Better, master, but still not well enough to ride."
Watched by the Syrian and his master, Publius bent to examine the horse's foot. It was slightly swollen and hot to the touch.
"You're right," he said. "I'll not be riding her today. Do you think she can walk as far as Nazareth?"
"If we go slowly, Master," Geta said.
And slowly was the word, for it took them all day to trudge the ten miles to where a dirt road turned off the stone-paved highway and led across the valley and up into the hills where the village that must be Nazareth nestled in a hollow. The climb was a steep one and the weary horses plodded so slowly that the first stars were visible by the time they arrived and found their way to a small fort with earthen walls and wooden corner towers.
"Centurion Publius Cassius Varo, Sixth Legion," Publius announced to the sentry at the gate. "We're on our way to Paneas and would appreciate shelter for the night."
"You're only just in time, sir," the sentry remarked as he stood aside and motioned for them to enter. "Our centurion's on his rounds right now and after that the gates are shut and - well, you know how it is, sir. If you wait a moment he'll be here and you can make the necessary arrangements with him."
Publius and Geta stood chatting to the sentry while the horses snuffed and stamped behind them. They heard the familiar shouts and challenges as the centurion made his rounds and the scraping and thudding sounds as the gates were shut and barred for the night. They weren't waiting long before a torch bearer rounded the corner from the north gate and the centurion and his party of guards came into view.
"Centurion Publius Cassius Varo, Sixth Legion, ave," Publius saluted as the small party came up to them.
His counterpart from the Nazareth garrison nodded distantly and shouted the words of command. The guards heaved the gates shut and dropped the wooden bars into place and only then did the centurion turn to Publius.
"Publius Varo?" he said. "Never heard of you. What's the Sixth Legion doing in this god-forsaken place?"
"Nothing official, I'm afraid," Publius grinned. "I'm on my way east to learn about making war on the Parthian front but I made a short detour on private business. I'm heading for Paneas with my slave here, but we won't make it tonight."
"No," the centurion nodded seriously. "Well, there's plenty of room in the barracks. We get very few travellers here, so the guest rooms are all empty. We only see the bigwigs once a year when the tax collector comes round. Most travellers head straight for Tiberius. Trouble with your horses?"
"I'm afraid so," Publius tugged on his horse's bridle and let it limp forward. "It picked up a stone yesterday."
"Hmmmph." The centurion stared at it. "I'll get our vet to have a look at it. How far have you come?"
"We were in Caesarea yesterday morning," Publius told him.
"Caesarea?" The centurion sounded surprised. "You should have been in Tiberias by now. Didn't anyone tell you about the short-cut?"
"Oh yes, we heard about the shortcut, but Centurion Cornelius was so grave in his warnings about the sicarii and all that that we decided to stick to the main road."
"Cornelius? You've met him? What did you make of him?"
"He seemed very nice, went to no end of trouble to see that we were all right."
"Yes," the centurion nodded again. "He's a good chap. Gone a bit native with all these Jewish superstitions he's picked up, but he's all right. I've a lot of time for Cornelius. I'm Marcus, by the way. Come along, I've got a surprise for you. Here, Antinous," he turned to one of his guards. "Take the centurion's slave and the horses and see that they're cared for. You'll have to pay for the feed," he told Publius. "Sorry about that, but it's a new government regulation. Private travel at cost price I'm afraid. I'll keep quiet about the vet, though."
