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Authors: Jerry Jenkins,James S. MacDonald

BOOK: Empire's End
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“Our guest is Paul of Damascus. Bring him water to drink, wash his feet, take his horse to the trough, and let the elders know all will meet him tonight at second watch.”

“Yes, Rabbi,” Nadav said. He turned to me. “Welcome, Paul of Damascus.” He looked at Theo and turned back with a puzzled expression.

“He'll follow you,” I said.

Nadav made a clicking sound and Theo followed him to the middle of the compound.

“You didn't tell me you were a rabbi, Alastor. Your name—”

“Is not Hebrew. My family is Hellenistic. But yes, I am a lifelong student of the Scriptures.”

Do not reveal your training
.

“Interesting. As it happens, sir, while I appreciate your hospitality, I am not thirsty, nor are my feet—”

“You have come a long way, Paul. And don't deprive the young man the blessing of serving you.”

“Very well.”

“Ah, my daughter, Taryn.”

I could barely make out the lithe, veiled figure just inside the opening of the tent. She stood motionless, seeming to protect Corydon, one dark hand around his shoulder, peeking out from the shadows, the waning sunlight revealing long slender fingers that somehow portended a certain gracefulness.

It was not my practice to greet unbidden a married woman, let alone a widow, but her own father introduced us. Her entire being seemed hesitant, even unwilling. How fresh must be her grief? Alastor laid a hand gently on my shoulder and nudged me toward her.

“Taryn, our guest is Paul, a brother in Christ from Damascus.”

She offered a nod and flashed a glance at her father. Annoyance? Panic? Frustration?

“I regret any inconvenience,” I said.

“Not at all,” she said, but her tone and eyes betrayed her.

“Nadav will refresh him. Do I smell stew?”

She nodded, eyes cast down. “Just broth with vegetables and bread. Then some figs.”

“I don't want to be any extra work,” I said.

“We have plenty,” she said, backing away. “You are welcome.”

Somehow I didn't feel welcome.

“Taryn, please,” Alastor said in a tone more disappointed than scolding, “I have more to tell you.”

“Forgive me, Father,” she said, turning back.

“I'll be back for supper. Please prepare the room for an elders' meeting at second watch.”

“Very well.”

Nadav arrived with a cup of water for me to drink and a bowl to wash my feet. Taryn and Corydon had disappeared behind the curtain that separated the two main sections of the tent, and I heard them whispering as she worked. Presently, the boy reappeared and watched intently as Nadav dried my feet. Corydon removed his own sandals and put his tiny feet into mine then amused himself by padding around in them.

I made a great show of pretending his sandals were mine and trying to force my feet into them. I stood as if I didn't notice that my toes barely fit through the straps and the heels stopped before the middle of my feet. I strolled to the front of the tent as if to gaze out at the horizon, which made Corydon laugh aloud and call for his mother to “come and see the funny man!”

“I'm not washing your feet again!” Nadav said.

Taryn pulled back the curtain slightly and peeked out, shaking her head at Corydon in my big sandals. I raised the hem of my tunic a few
inches so she could see his little ones on me. It warmed me to see her put a hand to her mouth over the veil as if to keep from laughing aloud.

When she went back to her work, I kept Corydon giggling by acting as if I were shocked to have just discovered that we had on each other's sandals. I began a long process of trading him one for the other where we kept ending up with one large and one small sandal each. He found this endlessly entertaining, and it dawned on me that I had not played with a child since I had been one myself.

Nadav said he needed to get back to his family as he would be coming back for the elders' meeting. I asked if I could chat with him as he walked, telling Corydon to tell his mother I would be back. “Can't I go with you, Master Paul?”

“Not this time, son. I'll be back soon for supper. You tell Mama, okay?”

As the boy ran back, Nadav whispered, “I believe she was pleased that you amused him.”

I asked him all about the place, the elders, the well, who did what, where they got their fabrics, their clothes, their tools, everything. He told me of their communal garden, livestock, and how much of their diet consisted of fish from the Red Sea. “I'm sure Rabbi Alastor will explain much more tonight.”

Back at Alastor's tent, I was hesitant to enter, given that his daughter was alone with the child. I lingered outside as the sky blackened. Pulling my mantle off my shoulders, I gathered it at the neck against the cool breeze and gazed into the heavens to see what stars had begun to appear. Silently I said,
This is where You would have me meet You in the mornings?

Not a temple, not a forest, not a meadow. A desert. A wilderness.

Whether Corydon heard me or just noticed me when he came from
the back to play, I do not know, but he immediately squealed, “Master Paul!” He knelt, slipped off a sandal, and came running, waving it over his head. “Look! Look! I found your shoe!”

“Indeed you did!” I said, taking off one of my own. “And I found yours!”

Leaping into my arms, he nearly bowled me over. “Corydon!” his mother called, appearing from behind the curtain. “Don't bother our guest. Grandfather will be here soon, and it's time to eat.”

“It's entirely my fault, and he's no bother. He's a delight.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “Corydon, come now.”

When the boy made no move, I set him down and nudged him toward his mother. Alastor startled me when he clapped me on the back and said, “How good of you to make him obey! She'll appreciate that. I don't do enough of it.”

The four of us sat on mats across from each other, Taryn and the boy on one side, Alastor and I on the other, with the bread and steaming pot of stew between us. Corydon begged to sit next to me, but when I began to assure his mother it would be all right, Alastor stopped me with a touch, pronounced a blessing over the food, and changed the subject.

The bread was nearly as warm as the stew, and while I was not hungry from what should've been an arduous journey, I found the repast more than satisfying. Taryn sat nearly motionless except to help her son, and she and Alastor kept the lad quiet the entire meal, though it was clear he very much wanted to talk.

As soon as we were finished with the dessert of figs, Taryn excused herself to put the boy to bed. He protested only briefly and giggled when I told him that in the morning he must help me find my sandals. When I began to help clear the eating area, Alastor shook his head and led me into the front section of the tent where he drew out a Scripture scroll, cradled
it in his lap, and suggested we talk about what to expect from the meeting of the elders.

I was frankly more concerned with where I was to spend the night. The miracle of my sojourn had left me with no question that I was where I was meant to be and that no human—elders or otherwise—would have the power to turn me away, whether I succeeded in persuading them of my value or not. God had already told Alastor of my coming, so it seemed the rest was simply a matter of details.

Nadav and five others made up the remainder of the elders, and around the beginning of the second watch, they arrived in ones and twos. When they were situated, Alastor opened the scroll, read a psalm, prayed, and introduced me by name as “the man I spoke to you about. I am welcoming him as a guest in my home, and I would like you to acquaint yourselves with him so you may make him feel welcome as well.”

A beefy man who looked not much younger than Alastor and who bore a stony visage said, “You welcome a stranger and expect us simply to do the same? If you feel that by having him sit here in our midst will keep us from speaking our minds, you are mistaken.”

Alastor raised a hand. “Zuriel, surely you know me better than that. That is the reason for this meeting. All things are to be revealed openly. Ask this man anything you want. Tell him anything you want. Satisfy yourself completely.”

“And if in the end I am not satisfied, what then? Do we send him on his way?”

“Trust me, friend,” I said, “you'll find that unnecessary.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Zuriel said. “I am not your friend. At least not yet. For all I know you could be a spy, a Roman, an agent of the Sanhedrin.”

“I assure you I am a follower of The Way.”

“And because you know a phrase meant to set my mind at ease, I'm to welcome you with open arms.”

“Brother, I believe God wants me here and that eventually He will make that plain to you.”

“What leads you to believe God wants you here?”

Below the curtain separating the sections of the tent I noticed Taryn's sandals and the fringes of her mantle. What must she be thinking of all this?

“He sent me here—that's all I can say.”

“What drove you from Damascus?”

“Frankly, my fellow Jews. I think some wanted to hand me over to the Sanhedrin and Jerusalem. Some of my friends believed others actually wanted to kill me.”

Zuriel narrowed his eyes at me and glanced at his fellow elders. “For what charge?”

“I was teaching at private gatherings of followers of The Way. And I was speaking in synagogues, preaching Christ.”

At this, Zuriel fell silent. Someone else said, “Do we know anyone from Damascus who can vouch for this man?”

“Enough with this!” Alastor said. “I am your rabbi and I vouch for him. Is that not enough?”

“No! It is not!” It was Zuriel again. “You tell us you met this man just hours ago, yet—”

“I told you God has given me peace about him.”

“And that should give us peace?”

“Absolutely.”

The others began to murmur and someone suggested getting word to the brethren in Damascus to try to corroborate my story.

“If you know the brethren in Damascus,” I said, “you must know—”

Do not name Ananias or Judas
.

Alastor leaned forward and spoke softly. “We all come from various cities, towns, and villages. Some of us are familiar with the leaders of The Way in Damascus.”

“Tell us who you know there, Paul,” Zuriel said.

“I am not at liberty,” I said.

“There! You see? And why not?”

Zuriel laughed derisively, but Alastor held up a hand to quiet him and said we should discuss my role in the community.

“His
role
?” Zuriel said. “It will not be a part of this body, I can tell you that, because that requires a unanimous vote, and he will not have mine.”

“My friend,” I said, “I am not in the least qualified to be an elder. I am very new to the faith.”

“And yet you would have us believe you were chased from the synagogues in Damascus for preaching Christ? You are a madman.”

“You are not the first to think that,” I said, smiling.

Zuriel was clearly not amused.

“Paul is a new believer,” Alastor said, “full of passion and zeal, and upon whom I believe God has His hand. I will personally see to it that he carries his weight here. He will have mornings to himself, will apply a trade in the afternoon so he can afford food and lodging and clothes, and he will take his turn with both the fishing detail and the night watch.”

“What is your trade?” someone asked. “We have no need of a preacher, especially a new one.”

This caused the others to chuckle and Alastor to break in to explain that I had not yet determined my trade, but I interrupted him to say, “I am a tentmaker. And frankly, from the looks of things, there's enough repair work here to keep me busy.”

Again I had apparently surprised everyone. And again Zuriel broke
the silence. “Your hands do not look like those of a tentmaker. More like a cleric's.”

“I confess it's been a while. But I'll develop my calluses soon enough, and your dwellings will evidence my handiwork.”

“Start with mine,” the burly man said.

“All I need are the tools and a place to work.”

All the elders save Zuriel spoke cordially to me and welcomed me before they left. Nadav held back and told me where Theo was corralled and could be watered and fed every day. “He's a fine-looking animal.”

I nodded. “You look as if you have something on your mind.”

He signaled me outside with a nod. “Forgive me, it was none of my business.”

“What's that?”

“I hand-fed him some grain, just a little, when I was watering him before, and I got a twig in with it. He let me remove it, and I noticed the marking inside his lip.”

“Did you?”

He nodded. “That's not a private horse, is it? At least it hasn't always been.”

“That's right.”

“How did you come by him?”

“He was issued to me, and that's all I care to say about it.”

“He's yours now, though.”

I was silent.

“You wouldn't risk bringing a stolen horse among us, would you, Paul?”

“Nadav, I have to ask you to trust me to handle my own business. There are things I cannot speak about yet. Now, leave Theo to me, and
I hope I can trust you not to trouble the others with your questions about him.”

“But I have only just met you, sir. We are risking our lives and our families, and—”

“And I am doing the same, I assure you. Any risk I expose you to would expose me as well. Believe me, my friend, God seems to have led me here for a purpose even I don't yet understand. But I am learning to trust Him. I pledge to you my fidelity in doing everything I can to maintain your safety. Will you trust me to handle my private affairs?”

Nadav seemed to study me and consider my request. Finally he reached for my forearm and we shook hands. He offered a tight-lipped smile. “Perhaps my confidence might earn me the next place on your repair list after Zuriel? My tent is the farthest north.”

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