LITMIR.BIZ

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it, but the bleeding has stopped. Take the towel out of his mouth. Vinegar burns like fire, but it doesn’t last long, thankfully.”

      Malchus examined the cut under Adas’s jaw more closely. “You know, this cut is odd. Octavean must have done it. I couldn’t see them when I climbed down behind the quarry. When I came up behind Octavean, he was about to hit him with his fist, but his dagger was still in his belt. He could have easily killed him then. I wonder why he didn’t.” Malchus inspected the red discoloration along Adas’s left cheekbone. He gently pressed the area. “It’s not fractured.”

      “That Roman has fists like Goliath,” said Cleopas. “Are you sure?”

      “No, I can’t be sure since we cannot see through flesh.” Malchus said patiently. “He doesn’t even know how close he came to death. It was fortunate we happened to be there.”

      “No, Malchus, this Roman did not survive because of good fortune. Cleopas and I were there specifically to find him. He’s the only one who can tell me what Yeshua and my brother talked about during their crucifixion. Why do you want to talk to him?” Before Malchus could answer, Adas groaned and turned his head.

      “Come on, before he wakes up,” said Malchus. “Cut two more strips from his tunic. Let’s cover these wounds.” They covered the head and hand injuries with folded squares of clean cloth treated with olive oil. They wrapped linen strips to secure the bandages.

      “Your brother and Yeshua must have spoken in Hebrew,” Malchus pointed out.

      “This soldier speaks Hebrew and he was close enough to hear.”

      Adas became aware of voices, and that he was lying on a bed. He did not recognize the voices. He felt a dull pain at the back of his head. He cautiously opened his eyes. Instinctively, he slapped a hand to his belt, but his dagger wasn’t there. Three men were staring at him.

      “Centurion, do not be afraid,” Malchus said calmly. “You’re safe here.”

      Adas saw they had no weapons, and had not moved. He knew if they meant to harm him, they would have done so already. “Where am I?” he asked in Latin.

      Malchus whispered, “I see what you mean, Jamin—he has the eyes of a wolf.” He addressed Adas, “You are in my home. We brought you here for your protection. We did not know if your men would return to finish you off. My friend says you speak Hebrew. That is unusual for a Roman soldier.”

      Adas tried to push up on his elbows, but the room swam around him. He dropped back on the bed and brought a hand to the back of his head. He could feel a knot under the skin. Adas answered in Hebrew. “I learned it as a child.” He put a hand to his chest. “Did Octavean take my armor? Are we far from the Antonia? Did he take my weapons?”

      “No, to the first two questions, and probably to the third. We are in my quarters on the estate of High Priest Joseph Caiaphas. Your armor is on the floor. Neither your weapons nor a knapsack were in sight,” Malchus said. “You are safe here. My name is Malchus and this is Jamin and Cleopas. What is your name?”

      Adas touched the bandage across his forehead. “Could I have some water?” Jamin held the jar and Malchus helped Adas sit up. He drank deeply and collapsed back on the bed. “My name is Clovius Longinus. My praenomen is Adas.” The three men glanced at each other, surprised that the Roman had a Jewish praenomen. “I’m in your debt for stopping Octavean and bringing me here. Why would you take such a risk?”

      “Jamin and I have questions you can answer,” said Malchus.

      “You heard what Yeshua and my brother talked about. I was too far away.”

      Malchus described the legionaries’ plot to stone Adas to death. Jamin explained that he and Cleopas intervened with Hektor and Falto’s rock collecting. Adas felt along his bruised cheekbone. “I remember how this happened.” He touched the underside of his jaw. “I don’t remember this.”

      “A cut from Octavean’s dagger, no doubt. I couldn’t see everything that happened. But I saw the other two leave. However, Octavean’s dagger was in his belt when I confronted him. We can only guess why he didn’t finish the job.”

      “I was stupid for staying there. I should have sent a patrol to arrest them.”

      Malchus nodded. “Yes, that would have been smart. Why didn’t you?”

      “This sounds irrational, even to me, but I saw someone in the garden. I was hoping he would come back.” Adas suddenly clutched at the neck of his tunic as his eyes went wide with panic. “Oh, I forgot. I gave it back.”

      “Gave what back?” Malchus asked.

      “It doesn’t matter.”

      “You said you saw someone in the garden?” asked Jamin.

      Adas described the man as best he could. “I can’t quite place where I’ve seen him before. Behind the tree, I could only see his face. I’d swear he looked like . . . but that’s not possible.”

      Cleopas and Jamin exchanged glances. Jamin declared, “We know who he is.” Adas and Malchus waited for an answer.

      Losing patience, Malchus demanded, “Well? Who is he?”

      “The man you saw is Yeshua, the same man you crucified.”

      “What?” exclaimed Malchus. “You know that was just wishful thinking. Besides, the prophets have been silent four hundred years, ten generations. Why now?”

      “God decided it was time,” said Cleopas.

      “If Yeshua is the Messiah, why did God let him be killed,” demanded Malchus.

      “For our forgiveness,” said Jamin. “Yeshua, as God’s Son fulfilled eternal atonement for all humanity. Remember when he said, ‘Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets. I have not come to abolish, but to fulfill.’ Never again will the shedding of blood be required to pay the penalty for sin. We are witnesses to a new covenant.”

      “Why do you think it was Yeshua in the garden?” asked Malchus.

      “Because we talked with him today—twice,” said Cleopas emphatically. “He explained about the prophecies being fulfilled when he appeared with us on the road to Emmaus and again with the others when he appeared in a locked room. He took food with us. He is alive! Yeshua is the Messiah. Many followers have seen him. First, the women in our group and. . .”

      “What women?” asked Adas. “The ones who stood by the Nazarene when he died?”

      “The Nazarene has a name!” Cleopas snapped. “You had plenty of time to learn it while you were torturing him to death.”

      “Cleopas, it was God’s will. If this man had not carried out the death sentence, someone else would have. It had to be done. You know this. Yeshua told us himself, today. It is not this man’s fault.”

      “It feels like it was my fault. Cleopas, I did not mean to be disrespectful.” He eyed the bandage on his hand. “I did have a choice. I could have refused the assignment. Somehow, I knew Yeshua was innocent of any crime.”

      “Innocence is exactly the point, Adas. Only Yeshua could fulfill the law because he was without sin,” explained Jamin. “It is no coincidence you were in charge of his execution. You did something I believe will be retold down through the ages. You proclaimed that Yeshua is the Son of God. You were chosen, Adas, and you fulfilled your purpose. If God had not wanted you there, he would have chosen someone else. And I suspect God has other tasks for you.”

      “I hope you are correct. There is something some people may dismiss, but I will never forget. When Yeshua stated, ‘It is finished,’ and immediately died, I knew I was witnessing something impossible. No man can make himself die simply by saying ‘It’s over.’ Even with suicide, a man must run on his sword, or throw himself from a cliff. When you saw Yeshua, did he have fresh injuries?”

      “No, he was completely

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