“Decius, call out a detachment—twelve men should be enough—to be ready as soon as the ‘Palmyra’ docks to take charge of transporting the shipment of goods the Tetrarch Herod is sending to his palace at Tiberias. His steward Chuza will put several of the palace servants to unloading it and will arrange for obtaining carts and beasts to move it. You will be concerned only with guarding the caravan. But be on the alert every moment, Decius. See that you aren’t surprised by some lurking band of thieves lying in wait for you. If anything should happen to this shipment, by the gods, we’d never hear the end of it; word would get back to Rome and the Prefect himself would know about it.” Upon delivering the goods at the Tetrarch’s palace, he added, Decius should take the detachment to the garrison post and there await his arrival with the remainder of the century, which would be escorting Herod to Jerusalem and from there northward to his Galilean capital.
When some two hours later the unloading had been completed and the other legionaries had returned to the ship, Decius stood with his detachment beside the piled crates and casks and waved good-by to his comrades as the “Palmyra” moved slowly away from the wharf and then, gaining speed, headed on a straight course toward the harbor mouth. The next day the vessel cleared the long breakwater thrust far out into the Great Sea to provide a safe harbor at Caesarea, and Longinus and his century went ashore. While the legionaries were assembling their gear, Cornelius stood with him on the pier.
“Come visit us at Tiberias, Longinus. You can contrive some mission that will warrant your being sent, can’t you?” he asked, then added, “Herodias will probably be coming out from Rome before long. I suspect Herod will be going back for her as soon as he can arrange with the present Tetrarchess for her to be supplanted....”
“If he can—which I doubt.”
“Whether he can amicably or not, I’d wager that he’ll be bringing Herodias to Tiberias as Tetrarchess. Then Claudia can visit her and you can meet her there. And marry her and keep her out here until you’ve completed your tour of duty.” Cornelius winked and playfully nudged his friend with an elbow. “By the gods, maybe that’s what you and Claudia have planned all along. Is it, Longinus?”
“No, we haven’t planned any such thing.” Longinus stared thoughtfully out at the shore before them. “But I’ll contrive some reason for getting up to Tiberias. And we’re bound to meet in Jerusalem during one of the festivals; they bring in the troops then, you know. Or perhaps some mission will bring you to Caesarea; at Tiberias, after all, you’ll be nearer us than we will be to Jerusalem.” He clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “My love, and the blessings of the gods—including your Yahweh—to your family.”
Cornelius stood at the “Palmyra’s” rail as the vessel slipped away from the wharf. When it was nearing the rounding of the breakwater, he heard Longinus’ sharp command, and the century moved off smartly. The tapping of the legionaries’ heavy boots in rhythmical, perfect cadence came clearly to him across the water. Longinus turned and lifted his arm high in salute; Cornelius returned it, as the century, swinging along the cobblestoned way, gained a street corner and turned, then began to be swallowed up into the maze of stone buildings beyond the piers.
The sun was dropping low into the Great Sea when the “Palmyra” sailed into the port at Joppa. Relieved and happy that the long voyage was safely ended, the passengers disembarked to seek refreshment and rest for the night. Early on the morrow Herod Antipas with Mary of Magdala and the others of his company, escorted by Centurion Cornelius and his century, would set out on the forty-mile journey southeastward to Jerusalem.
11
Centurion Cornelius pointed to a horseman hurrying toward them along the narrow road east of the river. “The advance guard must have run into trouble, maybe Bar Abbas and his gang or some other waylaying zealots.”