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seemed aware of the purpose of Eglon’s visit. He turned His eyes full on Eglon, who suddenly grew pale. Yeshua’s next words were a challenge to the political and religious authorities who doubtless were watching the confrontation from their windows. He was calm, fearless, matter-of-fact. “The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life—only to take it up again. No one takes it

from me. I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again. This command I received from my Father.”9 What could that possibly mean? Marcus wondered. There were so many things Yeshua said that required explanation, but this was not the time to be distracted. “Leave,” Marcus ordered Eglon, “before I arrest you for disturbing the peace.” “The tetrarch won’t like this interference,” Eglon rumbled. His men had already backed away from the fight. No one wanted to end his life spiked to a Roman cross for disturbing the peace or disobeying a Roman officer. “Governor Pilate’ll hear about this.” “Yes. You can count on it.” Marcus gave no sign of concern. “Take your curs with you. I give you two minutes. After that I’ll flog any of them still within sight. And that includes you.” From the clench of Eglon’s jaw Marcus knew the man was near exploding. This was the moment things could go either way. Without giving any other sign, Marcus clasped the sword hilt, making certain it would draw smoothly if needed. Eglon stood rooted in place for a moment more then withdrew. Antipas’ men and the Temple Guards followed him. The jabber of Pharisees was even louder than before. “He’s demon— possessed,” Simon ben Zeraim asserted. “Raving mad. Why listen to him?” Marcus heard Gamaliel respond, “These ¬aren’t the sayings of a man possessed by a demon.” To which Nakdimon added, “Can a demon open the eyes of the blind?”10 Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Marcus glanced over his shoulder and got a reassuring nod from Quintus. Eglon’s company was in retreat back through the herd. Marcus turned round. Yeshua, Zadok, and Yeshua’s talmidim were gone, leaving the Pharisees wrangling among themselves.
When High Priest Caiaphas reached his library in Nicanor Gate, he found Tetrarch Herod Antipas impatiently present. Visibly irritated. Standing beside the chair of the bloated and sallow ruler of Galilee was the grizzled and unkempt chief officer of his guard and deputed assassin, Eglon. Caiaphas looked expectantly from one to the other as his priestly assistant brought in the vestments: headgear, breastplate, and blue ceremonial robe of the high priest. “You’re late, Caiaphas.” Antipas blew his nose on a silk kerchief. “You’re early, Antipas,” Caiaphas countered. “I ¬haven’t been to bed. Dreadful night. Herodias hardly slept. Everything in an uproar.” “Spirits haunting the palace? Only significant details, please. I have things to do.” Caiaphas arched his brows. “Well, then? What news have you

brought? Another prophet’s head on a platter for breakfast?” “Tell him.” Antipas waved an impatient hand at his henchman. “Tell our high priest the latest news about our Messiah.” The words dripped sarcasm. Embarrassed, clearing his throat, Eglon obeyed. “I failed,” he said. “I almost had him in Beth-Anyah, but some of his talmidim returned unexpectedly. This morning my men and I surrounded him near the Sheep Gate, but Centurion Marcus Longinus interfered.” Antipas grunted. Rome’s involvement complicated things. Caiaphas was religious head of the ¬Jewish nation. His position had been bought and paid for. Herod Antipas was overseer of a fourth of Herod the Great’s former kingdom. He was eager to reacquire the rest. These two rulers of Israel disagreed about most things. On ¬only one thing did Caiaphas and Antipas fully concur: Yeshua of Nazareth was a threat and must be silenced. Herod Antipas had already