Ulric the Jarl: A Story of the Penitent Thief

by William O. Stoddard

"Thank the gods!" interrupted Knud the Bear. "Now may I the more comfortably eat my supper. It is well to have a thoughtful jarl."

A city by itself was Samaria, as it had been during long centuries. They who called themselves Samaritans bore deadly hatred to all Jews, but could not prevent them from entering the city and transacting business there, although they could have no dealings with the Samaritans. All other nationalities came and went freely, and here was a gathering of the offscourings of the earth. The Jews risk all perils for the sake of traffic, and they had in this matter the protection of the Roman laws. Nevertheless, these hatreds were the root of many troubles, and from time to time there had been bloody riots to be suppressed by the legionaries with but small care upon whom their swords might fall. It might have been trusted that a Roman of rank like Caius would be as safe in Samaria as in Jerusalem or in Rome, and so he would have been but for the intrigues of those who were greater than he. Herod Archelaus, to whom Judea and Samaria had fallen by the will of his father, Herod the Great, had forfeited his realm to the Romans and it was now ruled by Pontius the Spearman. Both the Herod of the Black Castle, whose legacy had been Galilee and some provinces beyond the Dead Sea, and Herod Antipas, who had inherited large districts at the north and east of Galilee, were plotting to overthrow Pontius and also to defeat each other. The favor of Cæsar was the path to increase of power not only for them, but for Roman plotters such as Julius, and there were intrigues against them all at Rome itself. The strifes of those who fought continually for the spoils of Roman conquests were ever records of bloodshed, and no man's life was safe. To be a great Roman was to walk on toward destruction.

Splendid was the feast to which Caius went at the palace of the governor of Samaria, but he was wary and he did not become drunken. Long reclined the guests on the couches at the tables, to be served with all the delicacies of the earth. Also there were dancers and mimes and musicians. But the end came. Some were to abide in the palace, some were to go to their houses near, in the city. The chariot of Caius waited for him, but as he and his slaves walked out at the main portal they heard a sound of trumpets and great outcries of a multitude.

"It is nothing," said Caius. "I heard that the rabble had risen against the Jews. Let the legionaries form in the road. Drive on!"

He spoke scornfully, but the outcries were near, and now came a great rush of men, of whom many were armed. In front of the governor's palace was an open space, into which the multitude was pouring, but from the opposite direction came forward another throng of men. In the foreranks of these was a small man in armor, with the visor of his helmet closed.

"Yonder is the chariot of Caius," he said. "Wait only till the Iberians charge. Then slay him and flee. Let the blame fall on the Jews and the Samaritans."

Two score were the legionaries, and it was the governor, standing upon the steps of the palace portal, who shouted to them:

"Charge ye the mob lest they hinder the going of my guest. Slay them! O most noble Caius, I send out also quickly my own guards and servants. Thou art safe!"

If this were indeed the craft of the governor, it was well hidden, for the soldiers went forward smiting all in their way, and armed men from the palace went also. By this very charge, however, the chariot would have been left alone save for Caius and his charioteers and a few mounted bondsmen. Not in the silken robes of a man at a feast was the centurion at this moment, nevertheless. The robes were to be seen in the light of the torches, but they covered good mail and armor, and suddenly upon his head was a helmet and in his hand a pilum.

"Treachery!" he shouted. "The jarl was correct! O for my Saxons!"