Free Fire and Sword by D. Brian Shafer

a servant of the Most High,” said Merlos. “He has released you. You are to preach the good news of this message to the people tomorrow in the Temple courts. Go now!”
    Peter glanced at the open cell. By the time he looked back, the heavenly visitor had already vanished. John motioned for him to be quiet as they crept out of the cell, down a short hallway, and into the street. Peter smiled at John, and together they began to give praise to the Lord as they disappeared into the night air.

    In a corner of the Sanhedrin, Kara and Servius watched with interest. Perhaps this time the Lord had outsmarted even Himself. By allowing the prisoners to escape, He was only bringing the wrath of the high priest and the Sanhedrin down upon their heads. They were joined by Berenius, one of Kara’s favorites.
    “Are they still deliberating?” snorted Berenius. “I thought they should have stones in their hands by now!”
    Kara laughed.
    “Patience, Berenius,” he said. “Our poison is sometimes slow but always effective. Especially with men of great pride.”
    Below them the high priest paced in front of the very nervous messenger. Nobody dared look him in the face. He was beside himself. How could this be? These men simply walked out of the jail? Where was the jailer? How could he have neglected to secure the cell? He threw his hands into the air. Just as he was about to explode in another tirade, another messenger entered—this time it was a priest.
    “Yes, yes, what is it?” Caiaphas said, annoyed at the intrusion.
    The man, a young Levite named Ethan, looked at the grim faces in the room. They were meeting in a hallway just outside the council room. Among them, most grim of all, stood the jailer. Ethan swallowed hard and delivered the news.
    “High Priest, the men are preaching again,” he began. “This time in the court of the Temple.”
    Everyone awaited Caiaphas’ response. He looked down at the ground for a few moments. He smiled weakly and looked up.
    “It was in this very room a few weeks ago when most of us met on another occasion,” he began.
    He pointed to a stone on the floor.
    “There was a drop of blood here as I recall,” he continued. “It had dripped off of Jesus. Do you remember, Zichri?”
    “Yes, rabbi,” Zichri said, remembering the day and looking at the floor.
    Others nodded as well.
    “We thought that in killing this man, or rather in seeing justice done, that we would be rid of the whole blasphemous sect once and for all,” he continued. “How much more of this must we bear?”
    He began pacing again. He stopped and pointed toward the chamber where the Sanhedrin members could be heard murmuring. He whispered loudly.
    “A man of my position cannot be made a fool of. I send for the Sanhedrin, and they assemble—and then when we send for the accused they are not in the jail? Not only that: the guards are standing at the doors—still locked—as if the prisoners are still inside? This must be a plot to discredit me! Well, it will not work! Captain of the guard!”
    A Temple officer appeared and bowed his head.
    “The men you seek are in the Temple court,” Caiaphas said. “Arrest them and bring them to the Sanhedrin. We shall await you there!”
    The officer nodded and left the room. Caiaphas thanked Ethan for the message and seemed to regain his composure.
    “Now, let us return to the Sanhedrin,” he said, his confidence returning. “These men are adept at handling our jails. Let us see how they handle their jailers!”

    “We gave you very strict orders not to teach in this name,” Caiaphas said, as he accused the men before him. As high priest, Caiaphas also acted as chief prosecutor in certain matters of justice. The Sanhedrin listened to his words, many of them glaring at Peter and John and the other leaders with them. “But instead of stopping, you have filled Jerusalem with this teaching of yours! And in doing so, you are trying to bring this man Jesus’ blood on our