György Spiró - Captivity

Pilate pushed his plate away from him, with Matthew immediately doing the same. Uri put another piece of fish in his mouth, though he did not dip it in garum first. Antipas helped himself to another large portion of the mullet and started to eat. There was a hush as everybody waited patiently until Antipas had finished. When he had swallowed the last mouthful, he too pushed his plate away.

Three quarters of the food served in the fish dishes had been left behind. Who was going to eat that? Was it going to be thrown out?

Servants jumped, and no sooner had the fish course disappeared than the three roast meats were there in front of them. Steaming away, they smelled dangerously tempting. New plates were set out.

I’m dining with a king and a prefect. This is not going to end well.

“It infuriates me,” said Pilate before anyone could help themselves, “that people should want to come between me and your people. I’m a disciplined person, thanks be to my gods, and to your one and only Everlasting Lord, and so far I have not fallen for any provocation. I come from a lowly background; I learned to discipline myself, and to the present day I have not forgotten that. It will not be through any doing of mine that I lose this post. The emperor is free to relieve me of my office, but let him do so to appoint me to a higher post. In the case of the viaduct, for instance, it was in your general interest, but I stepped back. I also did not allow myself to be provoked when those few dozen dimwitted fanatics were whipped up by a blatant lie to rush to Caesarea and protest in front of my palace; not a hair on their heads was harmed. Passover this year was more tense than usual, and I had to fear that a further provocation was stewing. I had to put an end to that, so I had three Jewish common criminals crucified. Let people see that I can also be hard-nosed, and that even my patience has its limits. Caiaphas the high priest was also concerned that dubious elements wanted to use the feast as a cover for public unrest, and he handed them over to me. They died; anyone who wanted could watch, anyone else could hear. I am only sorry that I had to make an example of them, but it seems the Jews drew the right lesson.”

Pilate now served himself a helping of meat.

“Every Jew knows that I am supporting the building of the city wall to the north out of my personal fortune, even though the emperor is more against it than for it. Now that’s not something I would do if I wanted a confrontational policy, is it? Why build you a wall if I only want to batter it down? I only sought to do good with the aqueduct, the stadium, and everything else I proposed! Any time Jews protested, I withdrew; peace is more important. But I can’t step back all the time! I have no intention of making it a regular practice to interfere in matters under the authority of the Jewish courts; I have neither right nor time to do so. This, though, was an exceptional situation. Let no one in Rome or Judaea make the mistake of supposing that I, whom they have only ever known as soft-hearted and agreeable, cannot put my foot down when necessary.”

Herod Antipas grabbed a portion from one of the roasts and put it on his plate. Matthew and Uri did likewise.

“My friend King Herod Antipas agrees,” said Pilate.

“Absolutely,” muttered Antipas as he ate.

“His presence here right now,” Pilate continued, “is highly esteemed and means a lot to me. We share this splendid palace now, and news of that will reach the ears of the powers that be soon enough, if it has not done so already. Our letters are not always answered, but they will understand our present coexistence. The Roman political rabble-rousers who would love to bring my name into disrepute and turn the emperor against me are on the wrong track. Peace and quiet reign in Judaea, and ever shall do so. The close alliance between the king of Judaea and the governor of Galilee is the guarantee.”

“There’s also endless plotting against me,” grumbled Antipas, staring gloomily straight ahead. “Ignorant people are continually needling me; I’m even driven to make war on my own ex-father-in-law! That is something I have no appetite for. My neighbors are being incited from Rome against me, Rome’s loyal ally; that’s going on all the time. The neighboring provinces would be peaceful forever were it not for the internal politicking in Rome that sets them against each other.”

“I can assure you, prefect—” Matthew began, but Pilate cut in, turning to Uri.

“Did you bring a message from Agrippa? If so, what? And to whom?”

Uri had been waiting for the question.

Matthew’s breathing on the other side of the table audibly quickened.

“Yes,” said Uri nonchalantly. “His message to the high priest was that he would leave him in office if he could be king.”

A silence fell.

Matthew’s breathing broke off.

Antipas snorted.

Pilate grunted then fell silent.

The silence persisted.

Uri reached for a plate, took a nice veal escalope and set it on his plate. Only then did he look up.

Matthew was looking at Pilate with a horrified expression on his face, Antipas was grinding his teeth. Uri squinted to the right. Pilate smiled a rueful smile then laughed it off.

“Well, what do you expect? Stands to reason! Let’s eat.”

When the dinner had ended, Pilate patted Uri on the shoulder.

“I hope that went down well, dear Gaius.”

“I’ve never eaten so many delicacies in my life!”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Matthew and Uri were led down to the front of the palace. They were standing in Temple Square, but it was dark, almost nothing could be seen; the moon was barely shining.

“Stay there!” said a soldier.

Matthew waited until the soldier had moved away before asking:

“Did you really bring a message?”

Uri burst out laughing.

“Whatever I say, you won’t believe it.”

Matthew slowly nodded. There was silence.

“You won’t believe me either,” he said gravely, “but I saved your life. I had you jailed, that’s true, but I told the prefect that you were probably carrying a message from Agrippa. The reason you were not executed is I said you knew something they needed to know. People who know nothing are crucified. I said you knew something important; I saved your life, do you hear?”

Uri shivered.

He was lying. I’m a Roman citizen; that’s why I was released.

Yet what if that wasn’t the reason after all?

A litter with four bearers appeared; it was tiny and ramshackle. They beckoned to Matthew and he got in. The litter was picked up and they set off.

A squadron was left with Uri in front of Herod’s palace.

“Let’s go!” an officer ordered.

Uri made his way alongside the colonnade, in the middle of a procession of soldiers dangling lowered weapons. He was able to take a peek at the hall behind in the light of the torches; under some vaults were a table and chairs, others were empty. He heard a drumming from above and looked up; soldiers were patrolling on the roof of the colonnade. He saw to the right the big palace that had attracted his attention on arrival: that must be the Hasmoneans’ palace. It was less ornamented than Herod’s palace. He spotted behind it a tall, dark, flat-roofed building that was separated from the palace by a wall at least eight cubits high. What could that be, he wondered.

They reached the end of the colonnade and left the square by a gate. A massive citadel with four towers stood before them, and they marched along one of its walls. The Antonia Fortress! Which meant that the flat-roofed building had to be the Temple!

They marched through a gate. Three soldiers accompanied Uri some five floors up a staircase, quite probably in one of the four towers. There he had to go through a door, which was then locked on him.