György Spiró - Captivity

The silence must have been too protracted for Matthew’s taste, as he partly swung around and started speaking.

He begged forgiveness for rudely interrupting his companions’ sacred meditations, but he felt it was incumbent on him, as their leader, to give a short account of his life and therefore their commander, as it were, on this journey. It was a matter of regret that the delegation to Jerusalem from the community of Jewish congregations was not being led by a man of Roman citizenship; he was merely a citizen of the Italian provinces, but the Elders had found that this was the safe solution, and up till now that had in fact been so: on the occasions he had led the journey, no harm had come to them.

He lived in Ostia, as he had said before. He was proud of the town, and at least two thousand out of a population of approximately twenty thousand were Jewish. They had a house of prayer and a public bath next door, everything they needed, and there were also private baths in or next to the houses of the richer citizens.

There were a great variety of peoples living in this important seaport, the importance of which would only grow; in it there was a sanctuary to Isis and a sanctuary to the renowned Magna Mater, to Cybele, mother of the gods, and to many other Eastern deities, like Mithras, what would be expected in a port town. But it was his fervent hope that a Jewish house of prayer would eventually be built that people from distant lands would flock to admire.

The Latini in Ostia had exquisite baths, a magnificent stadium, an amphitheater that held four thousand spectators, a substantial records office, the houses of the wealthier citizens, some of the houses of Jews also, had hypocaust heating systems, and some of these were on two floors, provided with an ample balcony where it was possible to sit outside in the evening. He did not say it to boast, but his house was one of them; it had been completed not even six months ago; it is true that it was situated outside the town walls. On the sea coast to the southeast of the town itself that extramural territory — and incidentally he had not had to pay the municipal administration for it, or to be more exact, the land did not belong to the town, but he had asked for a written document, which he received, to the effect that he was permitted to build on it — would be worth something one day, perhaps even more than a plot inside the town. Previously he had lived in a tenement with his children, but they had outgrown the two rooms of that apartment and, over his wife’s protestations, he had put all the money he had saved into this villa; so far no one had attacked the house or robbed it. Not far from the house were two mausoleums and the Bona Dea sanctuary, which were likewise outside the Porta Marina. The new mausoleum had been consecrated not long before, but he had personally known the individual to whom it had been erected, the famed C. Cartilius Poplicola, slayer of the pirates who had once tried to ransack all the ships in the harbor but had all come to a bad end. Poplicola, the new mausoleum’s occupant who had passed away to an eternal peace, had been a dignified old man in his final years, who had loved company and threw large banquets; he, Matthew, had visited him on two occasions and could also say that both times Poplicola had stroked his face with his hand because in the twilight of his years he had gone completely blind.

Uri shuddered.

Ostia’s chief attraction, Matthew continued, was its public toilet, the forica, with its dozens of marble seats ornamented with statues and mural mosaics. Lots of people took shits there at any given time, all sorts of people, side by side and opposite one another, drinking, eating, chatting, making jokes, reading out loudly to each other. It was a pretty place from the outside too; if ever they went that way they should seek it out, because as far as he was aware there was no facility like it in Rome.

His wife, a good-natured soul, had given him six children. Three of the four sons had by now grown up and were sailing on ships. He himself was now in his second decade on active duty in the Jewish fleet, initially as a sailor, later as captain, and he was used to issuing orders, which is why he asked for his companions to excuse him in advance for any occasional curtness or harshness in his dealings with them; that was not due to lack of respect, merely his mind, toughened by necessity, because in the end an officer could not feel compassion if he had to direct a galley of rowing slaves. He had shipped goods most frequently to Alexandria, or else from Alexandria to Caesarea and later, to avoid paying excise in Alexandria and Egypt, he had sailed with Judaean produce straight from Caesarea to Ostia; many times he had freighted from Alexandria to Ostia and back, and sometimes also found himself going to the Greek islands as well.

Given that he had a thorough knowledge of the hazards of the port of Ostia, the high command of the Jewish fleet had asked him to settle there for good as the agent, pilot, and warehouseman for the Jewish fleet. Once he had agreed, he had taken up the posting with the speedy consent of the Roman authorities. As a person who had already settled in Ostia many, many years before, he had instantly been granted Italian citizenship and had not even had to pay for it.

Anyway, this now was the fifth time that he had led a delegation to Jerusalem, and he felt it necessary to give them a few pieces of information.

The Torah scroll was in his possession.

He had a letter with the seal of the municipal administration in his possession to the effect that he, Matthew, citizen of Ostia, and five companions were traveling on an important mission, and the Roman powers-that-be were obliged to assist and support him and his companions wherever they were.

At this point he turned to Uri and explained reluctantly that the document did not speak of six companions because Gaius Theodorus had only been added to the delegation at the last moment and there had not been time to get the safe-conduct rewritten, not that this would cause any problems, he was quite sure of that; excise men would simply be glad that there was an extra traveler to charge for. On occasions like this, they would ask for extra money, of course, though it was usually possible to haggle that down a bit.

Uri felt a numbing chill in the region of his stomach, but he forced a smile to his lips and nodded.

He was also in possession, Matthew continued, of the money that the Elders had voted to cover the costs of the delegation; that had been the case with each of his trips, and as a rule it had been spent down to the last penny; his accounts for the amount had hitherto been accepted without question, even though the Elders were somehow amazingly well informed how much things cost outside Rome.

The route, he went on, had been properly prepared. Safe places where they would be given quarters had been arranged. They would be spending their nights alternately at private houses and at hostelries as long as they were on Italian soil, though on occasion it might be outdoors, under the open sky, but only if weather permitted; it was not one of their aims to drag themselves in sickness to Jerusalem. They would land in Sicily at Messina — or Messana, as the Romans called it — then, after another dry-land journey, they would set sail from the port of Siracusa for Caesarea, near the Greek islands, whence they would take the military road to Jerusalem. Experience had shown that this was the safest and the second-shortest course, and if nothing cropped up en route, they might even cover it in as little as six weeks, but, just to be on the safe side, they always allowed an extra two weeks over and above that. One of those weeks was made up of Sabbaths, of course, when they would not be doing any traveling; the route was so devised that they would be spending the Sabbaths, wherever possible, with Jewish families who welcomed delegations and would be glad to celebrate with them.