Free Second Touch by Bodie Thoene, Brock Thoene

captain of the Temple Guard. “Master Zadok will obey the command of the high priest. He’ll leave here when he’s ready . . . and in my company. You may go.” Avel saw Eglon’s face tighten with rage. The man’s hands clinched on the whip handle, and his body betrayed the temptation to spur his horse into Marcus. Avel sensed the danger was not over yet. If Eglon led a charge, would the Temple soldiers follow? Then the herdsmen would certainly resist and blood would flow. Marcus advanced quickly toward the side of Eglon’s mount before Antipas’ hired killer made up his mind what to do next. The centurion beckoned for a private conference and said something too low for Avel to catch. Automatically Eglon bent forward from the waist to hear better. In that instant Marcus reached upward with both hands, grasping Eglon by the lapels of his robe. The startled bay mare assisted by skittishly prancing sideways. With a twist of his shoulders and a jerk backward, Marcus lifted Eglon bodily out of the saddle. In the next instant Marcus

slammed Eglon into the ground. A puff of dust rose from the impact. This seemed to Avel to be the visible expression of the strangled explosion Eglon made when all his air abruptly left his lungs. No one else moved a muscle. Now Marcus spoke loudly enough for ¬everyone to hear. “I said, ‘You may go.’ Or ¬didn’t you hear me the first time?” Though Eglon was nearly as big as Marcus in height, the centurion easily swept the other man up from the ground and back onto his feet. “Be very clear about something,” he said to Eglon, who wobbled visibly. “Zadok and any who choose to leave here with him are ¬under my protection. And that means they are ¬under the seal of Rome. Remember that and tell your keepers the same. Now go.” Though Eglon appeared manifestly furious, Avel knew Eglon was unwilling to openly tackle an Imperial officer. Remounting and wheeling his horse around, Eglon galloped off, leaving the captain of the Temple Guard to salute Marcus, then order his men to march away. “Y’ just made powerful enemies in Caiaphas and Herod Antipas,” Zadok suggested to Marcus. “And I doubt Eglon will ¬ever be your friend, either.” “One more thing you and I have in common,” Avel heard Marcus reply. “But I’ve got to make use of Pilate’s sense of obligation while it lasts. Doesn’t your holy writ say not to trust in the goodwill of princes? Anyway,” Marcus concluded thoughtfully, “Pilate wants me out of the way. ¬I’m leading the diplomatic envoy to Nabatea the end of the week. No more use of you, ¬I’m afraid.” “Then Shalom till we meet again,” Zadok said, grasping Marcus’ arm again. “We both serve as we’re called.”
Sweet breezes from the Great Sea of Middle Earth, urged eastward by the ginger and saffron rays of the setting sun, curled over the heights of Jerusalem. The prevailing wind kept the stench and squalor of the Lower City away from those who dwelt in the Upper City. The palace of High Priest Caiaphas was well placed to take advantage of both the views and the cleansing drafts. Here, near the summit of the highest of the western hills, his three-story mansion was more imposing than any of its neighbors. The structure’s grandeur was diminished ¬only by its proximity to the sprawling palace built by Herod the Great. Taken together, the high priest’s mansion and Herod’s citadel, now home to the Roman governors of Judea, stood in opposition to the Temple of El’Elyon, God Most High. His home lay on the Temple Mount promontory to the east. Simon ben Zeraim turned his head to peer toward the marble of the sanctuary. His reception at the high priest’s manor had been cordial. But the attentive slave’s washing of his feet in perfumed waters had not completely alleviated the Pharisee’s misgivings. Once more Simon looked longingly toward the Temple, where the cohens, or priests, were lighting

the lamps and shutting the gates for