The Inquest Read Free

divine, that he was the Messiah, as it is said in my native tongue.”
    Varro frowned. “Messiah?” he queried. “I’m unfamiliar with that term, my lord.”
    A smile tickled the corners of Josephus’ mouth. His lively eyes sparkled. “The Christos, his Greek followers call him, questor—the anointed one.’”
    “Anointed for what?” Varro asked.
    Before Josephus could reply, Collega interrupted. “This coming back to life nonsense,” he said with irritation. “Do these people really believe it, Josephus? We have a few of these Nazarenes here at Antioch. I had classed them with all the other Jews of the city.” There were in fact 40,000 Jewish residents in the Antioch population of 250,000. “Do they genuinely believe that he actually rose from the dead?”
    Josephus nodded. “They believe that he rose from the dead, that he walked from his tomb at Jerusalem, walked to Galilee, then ascended to Heaven. They say he was a god, Collega. A dangerous claim in these unstable times, you would agree.”
    “A god?” Collega scoffed. “Did anyone see him, after he supposedly rose from the dead and went strolling around Palestine?”
    “It is claimed that a number of his devotees saw him and spoke with him after his execution.” Josephus smiled, knowingly. “Obviously, this claim is fraudulent, Collega. Thereby hangs the means of suppression of the Nazarenes.”
    “You have lost me,” said Collega impatiently.
    “The beauty of the approach I am about to suggest to you, Collega,” Josephus confided, “is that you do not have to execute a single Jew to destroy these people. Here is the crux of the matter…”
    So that he missed nothing, Varro took a step closer.
    “Prove as baseless the claim that this man rose from the dead,” said the Jew. “And you destroy the basic tenet of the Nazarenes’ belief. Prove that Jesus of Nazareth was not the Messiah, the redeemer of the Jewish people promised by ancient texts, and publish the evidence the length and breadth of the Empire, and you will make these Nazarenes a laughing stock. The edifice of their belief will come crashing down, and the Nazarenes will have been shown to be mere story-tellers and frauds. Their Messiah will be discredited, and their sect will fade into obscurity.”
    Collega frowned. “Prove that this Jew did not rise from the dead? You think that would be enough to destroy them?”
    Josephus nodded. “Prove the ridiculous claim of the Nazarenes to be the myth it is. Like the myth that Nero Caesar is still alive and living here in the East in disguise.”
    It was Collega’s turn to smile. He was thoughtful for a time, unconsciously tugging the lobe of one ear. Then he turned to Josephus, who had given the general time to consider his words. “What of these claims of miracles that Varro speaks of? Would it not also be necessary to disprove those?”
    “Miracles, miracles,” Josephus responded with an open-handed shrug and a pout of the lips. “You have been in the East long enough, Collega, to know that this part of the world abounds with miracle workers, all of them nothing more than clever magicians. Even Caesar Vespasianus, when he was at Alexandria last year, performed miracles, right before my very eyes.”
    Collega looked at him with surprise. “He did? Caesar did that?”
    Josephus nodded. “I saw it for myself. He cured a blind beggar, simply by spitting in his eyes. Another, a lame man, he cured by stomping on his foot. Yet, is Caesar making claims of divinity?”
    Varro watched as Collega again lapsed into thought. Like the general, Varro was astonished by the revelation about the emperor’s miraculous powers. He had met Vespasian when he was a general of consular rank, before he became emperor of Rome. Vespasian had been coarse, as foul-mouthed as a common legionary, and terse; the last person Varro would have credited with heavenly powers. Then again, when he met him, Varro had never imagined that the general would one day be