Praetorian. He is
consummate evil.”
“Then why do your Holy Scriptures refer to
him as ‘a son of the morning fallen from Heaven,’ a god wrongly
worshiped?”
“Surely you’re not suggesting—”
“And did not the god you call ‘Jehovah’
promise in the Garden of Eden that the one who would ‘bruise the
head’ of the serpent, Satan, would come through the lineage of
Abraham?”
Doras grew agitated. “Where did you get this
information, and why are you taunting me with it?”
“I assure you my intent is not to
taunt you, Doras.”
“What then?”
“Merely to make a point.”
“I’m listening.”
“You are an Edomite , are you not?”
Doras flinched. “So?”
“The Edomites are descendants of Esau, the
eldest son of Isaac, correct?”
Doras nodded.
“Well then, you of all people should
understand. The Edenic promise of the one who would crush Satan was
fixed in the family of Abraham. Let’s see, I believe the lineage
should have been Seth, Shem, Abraham, Isaac, and Esau . But
that was not to be, was it, Doras? Esau sold his birthright—for a
bowl of pottage, no less. His younger brother, Jacob ,
received the irrevocable blessing instead.”
Doras was livid. “This is intolerable. I will
not allow a Roman soldier to insult me in my own home.”
“Forgive me. . .I thought we were discussing
why you invited me here tonight.”
Doras reached for his goblet of wine and said
angrily, “I don’t understand your point.”
“Esau’s bitter hatred towards his brother
Jacob for fraudulently obtaining his blessing was inherited by his
descendants. When the great Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzer besieged
Jerusalem, the Edomites joined forces with the Assyrians. They took
an active part in the plunder of this city and the slaughter of its
Jewish residents. I believe you are a direct descendant of the man
who led the Edomites.”
Doras gasped. “But how—”
Deucalion smiled. “I have my ways, just as
you and the Sanhedrin have yours. The point is, you are not happy
with Joseph ben Caiaphas as High Priest. Knowing that Pilate is
extremely unhappy with him as well because of what happened during
the Passover, you wish to align yourself with us so that we might
help you remove Annas’ puppet. And you hope to convince me that
your plan will serve our interests as well as your own.”
Doras glared at Deucalion, but remained
silent.
The Praetorian resumed his explanation. “Now
that we understand one another, perhaps you would care to elaborate
on why you invited me here tonight.”
“Out on the veranda,” grimaced the flustered
Jew, rising unsteadily. “I need fresh air.”
The veranda wasn’t large, and the only pieces
of furniture were a small wooden table and two cushions. Both men
chose to remain standing.
Deucalion gazed up into the clear sky and
stared at the full moon. He was relieved to be outside; the
atmosphere in the house had been cloying. Truth be known, he was
not very happy with himself because of the way he had berated
Doras. Yet, he’d had to do it.
The older man would be stunned if he knew
that the Praetorian had a gift for languages, and had mastered not
only Greek and Aramaic, in addition to his native Latin, but Hebrew
as well. It was a secret few knew, one that gave him a tremendous
edge in dealing with the Jews.
There were times when he almost believed he
could think as they did.
Doras would be easy to manipulate. Although
the aging Jew was not a Pharisee, he thought and acted like one. He
served the law of his people diligently only because he knew he
could profit by it. Other Jews referred to men like him as Shechemites , so named after the son of Hamor, who seduced
Jacob’s daughter, Dinah, only to be brutally killed by her
brothers, Simon and Levi.
“Everything a man does depends on fate—and
God,” said Doras after taking several deep breaths. “And everything
that happens in the world takes place through God’s providence.
That being the case, it
consummate evil.”
“Then why do your Holy Scriptures refer to
him as ‘a son of the morning fallen from Heaven,’ a god wrongly
worshiped?”
“Surely you’re not suggesting—”
“And did not the god you call ‘Jehovah’
promise in the Garden of Eden that the one who would ‘bruise the
head’ of the serpent, Satan, would come through the lineage of
Abraham?”
Doras grew agitated. “Where did you get this
information, and why are you taunting me with it?”
“I assure you my intent is not to
taunt you, Doras.”
“What then?”
“Merely to make a point.”
“I’m listening.”
“You are an Edomite , are you not?”
Doras flinched. “So?”
“The Edomites are descendants of Esau, the
eldest son of Isaac, correct?”
Doras nodded.
“Well then, you of all people should
understand. The Edenic promise of the one who would crush Satan was
fixed in the family of Abraham. Let’s see, I believe the lineage
should have been Seth, Shem, Abraham, Isaac, and Esau . But
that was not to be, was it, Doras? Esau sold his birthright—for a
bowl of pottage, no less. His younger brother, Jacob ,
received the irrevocable blessing instead.”
Doras was livid. “This is intolerable. I will
not allow a Roman soldier to insult me in my own home.”
“Forgive me. . .I thought we were discussing
why you invited me here tonight.”
Doras reached for his goblet of wine and said
angrily, “I don’t understand your point.”
“Esau’s bitter hatred towards his brother
Jacob for fraudulently obtaining his blessing was inherited by his
descendants. When the great Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzer besieged
Jerusalem, the Edomites joined forces with the Assyrians. They took
an active part in the plunder of this city and the slaughter of its
Jewish residents. I believe you are a direct descendant of the man
who led the Edomites.”
Doras gasped. “But how—”
Deucalion smiled. “I have my ways, just as
you and the Sanhedrin have yours. The point is, you are not happy
with Joseph ben Caiaphas as High Priest. Knowing that Pilate is
extremely unhappy with him as well because of what happened during
the Passover, you wish to align yourself with us so that we might
help you remove Annas’ puppet. And you hope to convince me that
your plan will serve our interests as well as your own.”
Doras glared at Deucalion, but remained
silent.
The Praetorian resumed his explanation. “Now
that we understand one another, perhaps you would care to elaborate
on why you invited me here tonight.”
“Out on the veranda,” grimaced the flustered
Jew, rising unsteadily. “I need fresh air.”
The veranda wasn’t large, and the only pieces
of furniture were a small wooden table and two cushions. Both men
chose to remain standing.
Deucalion gazed up into the clear sky and
stared at the full moon. He was relieved to be outside; the
atmosphere in the house had been cloying. Truth be known, he was
not very happy with himself because of the way he had berated
Doras. Yet, he’d had to do it.
The older man would be stunned if he knew
that the Praetorian had a gift for languages, and had mastered not
only Greek and Aramaic, in addition to his native Latin, but Hebrew
as well. It was a secret few knew, one that gave him a tremendous
edge in dealing with the Jews.
There were times when he almost believed he
could think as they did.
Doras would be easy to manipulate. Although
the aging Jew was not a Pharisee, he thought and acted like one. He
served the law of his people diligently only because he knew he
could profit by it. Other Jews referred to men like him as Shechemites , so named after the son of Hamor, who seduced
Jacob’s daughter, Dinah, only to be brutally killed by her
brothers, Simon and Levi.
“Everything a man does depends on fate—and
God,” said Doras after taking several deep breaths. “And everything
that happens in the world takes place through God’s providence.
That being the case, it
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