Free The Parchment by Gerald T. McLaughlin Page B

impressed that Barbo had gone to the trouble of studying his resume. “Yes, it's left me with a passion for fourteenth-century French history.”
    “It's curious. My dissertation at the ‘Greg’ was on the Knights Templar.”
    Calvaux signaled the waiter for another espresso. “Both groups got pretty shabby treatment from the papacy and the French monarchy.”
    “We have some time, Jean. Tell me your family legend.”
    “About Gerard de Montelambert?”
    “Yes and his discovery of the census records.”
    Calvaux thought for a moment. “The Montelambert legend actually begins centuries before Gerard was born. It starts in first-century Palestine with one of our ancestors — a wine merchant from Gaul named Evardus.”
    Barbo leaned forward and cupped his chin in his right hand. “Start where you will, Jean.”

C HAPTER VI
THE DEATHF A RABBI
    T ITUS FLAVIUS SABINUS , son of the Roman Emperor Vespasian and commander of the Roman Legions in Asia, stood on the Mount of Olives looking out over the Valley of the Kedron to the walls of Jerusalem. At thirty-one, Titus was in the prime of his life. Although shorter than the average Roman, he was a feared opponent, whether on the battlefield or in the gladiatorial arena. With his brawny arms and broad shoulders, he could crack the neck of a man like a dried twig. With his olive complexion and curly hair, Titus exuded the animal magnetism of a stallion in search of a female to mount. Women found him irresistible. He reciprocated with feats of sexual prowess that exhausted even the most lecherous courtesan. Titus boasted that during one imperial banquet, he seduced the wives of four Senators and then took to bed his lover—a sixteen-year-old male slave. “The people call me a god. They want to see me act like one. The great Alexander could not have done better.”
    Titus's prowess was not confined to the bedroom. He was a shrewd and cunning negotiator, with an instinctive sense of timing. He knew exactly when to act and when to hold back. His resourcefulness had recently been proven to his father. While Vespasian was commander of the legions of Asia and Titus was his second in command, a disastrous fire broke out in Rome. Although Emperor Nero accused a religious sect called Christians of starting the conflagration, the Senate blamed Nero. Convinced that the emperor had caused the fire, three officers of the Praetorian Guard—the troops assigned to protect Rome — broke into Nero's bed chamber, pulled him off his wife and stabbed him repeatedly in the chest. Nero's murder set off an immediate struggle for power, one group in the Senate vying against another. As the military force closest toRome, the Praetorian Guard had much to say in choosing the next emperor. When no senatorial faction could win the Guard's allegiance, however, the governor of Spain, Servius Galba, proclaimed himself emperor and marched on Rome to claim the prize. The Praetorian Guard put up no resistance.
    Once Galba had solidified his power, he wasted no time in summoning Vespasian to Italy. “Having the general who commands our legions in Asia come to Rome,” Galba wrote, “would be a sign of unity in the Empire.”
    When Galba's letter arrived, Vespasian read it and handed it to Titus. “Galba must take me for a fool. If I return to Rome, he will have me killed. I am his only rival.”
    “Father, send me in your place.”
    “What excuse would I give Galba for sending you?”
    Titus thought for a moment. “The Jews are your excuse. They defeated the Twelfth Legion and captured its eagles. Until the Jews are crushed and the eagles restored to Rome, you cannot leave Palestine.”
    “But if you take my place, he will kill you.”
    “When you fear the lion, Father, you are careful not to harm the cub. Killing me would only lead to war, and at the moment that is the last thing Galba wants. No, he will accept my vows of loyalty—particularly when I wrap them in flights of birds and showers of