LITMIR.BIZ

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were knocked off their feet. Splintered rocks crashed down from hilltops scattering screaming people in all directions. Jamin jumped to his feet, but immediately fell on his back and elbows. He choked on clouds of dust that filled the air. He struggled to his feet again, to get above the dust, but the quake knocked him back down. Everyone was sprawled on the ground, including the Roman soldiers.

      The shaking intensified. The soldiers threw their hands out to steady themselves. They looked around with mild surprise which escalated into panic. The crosses swayed and both criminals struggled to get a footing. Yeshua hung lifeless. His drooping head swayed as the cross moved with the convulsing ground. The Nazarene’s followers cried aloud, clutching at each other as they fought to get to their feet. Then the oppressive darkness began to wane, but the air seemed to thicken. It pressed into the people with an inexplicable weight, making it difficult to breathe. The earthquake continued unabated.

      Adas gave up trying to get to his feet. It seemed as if the shaking would never end. After what felt like an eternity, the tremors finally subsided. The sun returned to its natural state, restoring color to the world. There was complete silence, as if the earth had gone mute. Adas stared at the dead man above him. He was overcome by the timing of Yeshua’s crucifixion and death with the darkness and the earthquake.

      Thinking of everything he had ever heard about Yeshua, Adas exclaimed, “Certainly this was a righteous man!”

      Demas gasped for air. He could barely speak above a whisper, but Adas could hear him. “A mortal can be righteous. This man is not mortal. He is the Son of God. Tell my brother that because I willingly took up this cross, I go to be with God. I will wait for Jamin there.” Demas fell silent.

      Adas turned and scanned the crowd. A flood of memories from Misha’s teaching raced through his mind. In one defining moment, he knew the greatest truth of all. For the first time in his life, he acted on pure faith. Centurion Longinus cried out, “Surely this was the Son of God!”

      Lucius scrambled to his feet. “Sir! You can’t really think any god would let his son die like a slave. It got dark and the earth shook. So what? He was just like any other man.”

      “Would an ordinary man forgive us while we tortured him to death? I have never even heard rumors of such a thing. Have you?”

      Lucius started to speak, but could think of no reply. He shielded his eyes from the sun’s glare and grumbled to no one in particular, “I hate crucifixions. They always take so long to die.”

      Hektor glanced at his wager tally and gloated, “Nazarene, you have made me a rich man.”

      Lucius ground his teeth in anger. Not only had he lost his wager money, but Centurion Valentius had borrowed money from him to place a bet. He knew Valentius would never pay him back. Lucius looked around for his wineskin and snatched it up, but he had not resealed it. What little wine was left had run out during the earthquake. The blood of the grape joined with the blood of Yeshua as it soaked into the ground.

      Yeshua was dead. The crowd began to disperse. Yet his followers remained. Their grief was only too evident, still they lingered. The other two crucified men would last much longer, perhaps days.

      Adas spoke to Jamin in Hebrew. “I have wine if you’ve run out. For your brother.”

      Jamin nodded gratefully. He again attached the sponge to the stick. Adas retrieved his wineskin when Jamin stopped him. “Why are you giving them aid?”

      “It is a matter of decency. If I were up there, I would want someone to give me aid. They know Yeshua is dead. Why don’t they leave?”

      “They stay for the same reason I stay for Demas,” said Jamin. “They just want to be with him a little longer, especially his mother, the woman that man is trying to comfort. The man’s name is John. He was one of Yeshua’s disciples.”

      “Didn’t he have other disciples?”

      Jamin nodded, but offered no excuse for their absence. He held the stick carefully so Adas could pour the wine onto the sponge. Jamin lifted the sponge to his brother’s lips. Demas took as much as he could. Jamin turned to Adas to thank him. Now that the sun shone brightly and color had returned, Jamin was startled to see the eyes of a wolf looking back at him. The centurion’s eyes were the color of opaque amber. The grayish-brown rings circling the irises gave the finishing touch. Jamin looked away to hide his distress.

      Hours passed. The crowds were gone. Everything was strangely silent and still. It had only been a matter of hours, but Adas felt like he had been at Golgotha for days. He lay on the ground, his knapsack under his head, and his arm thrown over his eyes. He heard galloping hooves and sat up.

      A horseman appeared on the path to Golgotha. Adas recognized the big, mahogany bay as Draco, the war horse of Decurion Cassius Sabinus Quintus. Cassius was tall for a Roman, with short dark hair and dark brown eyes. He sat a horse well with his straight back and broad shoulders, but walked with a right-legged limp, a reminder of a Scythian’s arrow.

      Cassius reined in his horse. “Centurion Longinus, Governor Pilate sends orders! You’re to break their legs before the sun sets. They must be off the crosses before the Jewish Sabbath begins. Looks like the one in the middle is already dead. That was quick. And there still might be a riot. Some curtain in the temple was destroyed. I don’t know what it means, but they’re in an uproar, as if some old curtain could be the end of the world. Unfortunately, I have more bad news. Centurion Valentius says Governor Pilate wants the four of you to guard the Nazarene’s burial site until sunset on Sunday. There are rumors the Nazarene will come back to life. Some fear the zealots will steal the body. If you catch anyone, Valentius says to take them to the Sanhedrin, the Jewish court of law. Governor Pilate does not wish to be involved.”

      “He wants us to guard the tomb?” Adas demanded.

      Cassius nodded, but signaled for Adas to approach. He leaned down. “Adas, everyone knows how popular the Nazarene is—was with these people. I’d feel better if you had a few more squads.”

      “I don’t understand why Valentius wants us to pull more duty, especially since we were at the end of our shift of night patrol.”

      Cassius shrugged. “Those are his orders.”

      Adas groaned in frustration. “If the crucifixions had been delayed just a little longer, a squad from day shift would have been in charge, and now we’ve got two more days.”

      “Just be careful.” Cassius glanced at the other soldiers. “And what’s with those three? They are the most unreliable legionaries in your whole centuria. Why did you pick them?”

      “I didn’t. Valentius assigned them, which is odd.” Adas stroked Draco’s neck. The spirited horse snorted and pawed the ground. “Today has been nothing but strange.”

      Cassius lowered his voice. “I need to talk to you about Demitre, Valentius’s slave. I’ll tell you later when we can talk safely.”

      “Until then, Cassius.” Adas rubbed the horse’s neck. The stallion stopped fidgeting. “Draco seems to be recovering well.”

      “Yes, he is. I believe you saved his life, my friend. I don’t know what I’d do without this brave-hearted beast. He is fearless in battle. I owe you, Adas.”

      “I may need to collect on that someday.”

      “In the meantime, could you take a look at Tigula? He’s not eating well.” Decurion Quintus loved his dog. He slept soundly every night knowing the mastiff slept against the door. “I would take him to a veterinarius, but you know how Tig snarls at everyone except you.”

      Adas turned his back to the crosses. It was hard to talk about common things with death so close. “I’ll take a look at the grouchy old beast as soon as I get back. By the way, the bolt on my door keeps jamming. Do you mind if I borrow your tools? I think I can fix it myself.”

      “Sure. You can pick them up when you check on Tigula. Gratias, Adas.” Cassius started to leave, but a runner approached the men.

      “Centurion,

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