The Lion Killer Chapter One

 Chapter One

A Man to be Feared

    The streets were crowded and noisy, as usual. Merchants and money lenders, travelers and animal herders filled the busy marketplace. And everywhere one looked... soldiers. Roman soldiers, glaring disdainfully, stoically, at their conquered people. For the Jews were a conquered people and Jerusalem a conquered city. But in name only. The spirit of that people was unquenchable, unbreakable. In each and every heart burned a fire that could not be put out by any superfluous pagan empire. Someday... someday the Messiah would come. The long-awaited promised One. And then... the conquerors would become the conquered.

    But thoughts of such depth were not in the heart of Nathan, son of Jesse, as he pressed his way through the throng. Although he was noted among those who harbored thoughts of rebellion toward the hated Roman empire, he was focused that day on thoughts of a much lighter and happier subject. At least... they should have been light and happy.

    Nathan was in love.

    Such trite statements have been given since time began. Since Eve was first given to Adam in the first year of the earth and love was born. Time and time again, down through the ages, every day and in every way... a man falls in love with a woman. Sundry difficulties often present themselves then, for fate delights in making trouble for those who would be happy. But often, nothing stands in the way... a marriage takes place... and a happy new life is created.

    But something did inevitably stand in the way, for fate had chosen for its victim, Nathan, son of Jesse.

    The girl whom he loved was, perhaps a little above him in station. After all, the daughter of a prince of Judah! But that wouldn't really matter. Position was not the trouble here, for he knew that her brother... her father being dead... would approve of their match. No, the problem here was much more elusive. And it drove poor Nathan crazy by way of its elusiveness.

    He had a rival. A rival whom he had never before seen. And... of all the cruel and dreadful things... twas a Roman rival. A soldier. A tribune. The girl whom Nathan loved he believed to be the sweetest and loveliest creature in all Judah. But here she had a fault. She had fallen for a Roman. And she was a Jew.

    This rival he knew nothing more of than that his name was Messala. Oh, cursed name! Nathan hated the very sound of that heathen name. He knew also that said Messala was the best friend of his lady's brother, Judah Ben-Hur. That they had been friends since the time they first could walk. And he knew that Tirzah... for that was the name of his lady... loved this strange Messala. This... Roman tribune who, for the past five years, had been ravaging the coasts of all the known world. Wreaking havoc in innocent and defenseless countries, killing, burning, slaughtering. Perhaps Tirzah never thought of this. And, it is true, that she did not. She was in love with a shadow. A boy whom she had once known, five long years ago, before he left for Rome.

    But he would return. Nathan knew this and grit his teeth angrily. The tribune Messala was to return to Jerusalem within the next few days, bringing with him legions of soldiers... all set to receive the new governor, Valerius Gratus. That was another name to hate, but Nathan felt he could not hate it quite as fiercely as the name of Messala.

    He paused now, for he was standing at the door of the palace of Hur. His heart was pounding furiously. He wanted so much to speak, to tell her all his heart, of which she knew nothing. But could he? Would she scorn him for the Roman that she had waited for so long?

    At length he knocked, and the door opened. He was standing now in the atrium of the beautiful palace of Hur. The flowers were blooming more vibrantly than ever, the fountain laughing as it danced in the center. And Tirzah was coming forward to welcome him... how beautiful she was! And he forgot Messala, forgot Rome, forgot all his troubles as he took her hand in both of his.

    "Dear Nathan, I was so hoping you would be coming today! Mother is quite anxious to see you, you do not come near often enough," she was laughing that light, musical little laugh of hers. She was happier that day than she had seemed in a long time. Her eyes were shining, her cheeks glowing. And he knew why. It was because Messala would soon return and she knew it. If only that beautiful smile was for him! But he knew she saw him only as a friend.

oOo

    Nathan did not say anything that day. He had never seen Tirzah so happy and he just couldn't bring himself to tell her what was in his heart. And so he left, as he came, miserable and angry. But she never knew.

    The "rebel" Jews met often in secret, knowing that the slightest word against the Roman empire was treated as sedition and could mean the dungeons, the galleys, or worse. Crucifixion was not rare. A horrible sight, a horrible fate, and a common one at that.

    Nathan was numbered among these rebels and indeed, considered something of a ringleader. Perhaps it was his leadership skills, perhaps his strength and height, perhaps his overwhelming patriotism and fiery spirit. Whatever it was, he was able to bring people together, to unite them in the common goal, however distant and impossible it seemed, of working to someday, someday overthrow the Roman rule that had oppressed them for so long.

    "We are the children of God!" he told them. "God's own people. A mighty people! He has promised us a Messiah. And one day that Messiah will come. We will join together under His leadership... a people unconquerable. Unbreakable! And we will be free once more!"

    The meeting that night, at the house of Isaac the tanner, was larger than most nights. Knowing that the new Roman governor was arriving soon coerced many into action that beforehand had been fearful and silent. But that action was so subtle, so beneath the surface, that the Romans, though aware of it, could scarce see it to stamp it out.

    The meeting lasted long into the late hours of the night. It was nigh onto ten o'clock in the evening when they began to disperse, alone or in groups of twos and threes, in different directions, so slowly and carefully that none would suspect there had been a gathering.

    But that night was not a quiet night in Jerusalem. As he stepped from the dimly-lit tannery into the darkened street, Nathan looked up. The sound of trumpets was heard in the distance. Of pounding drums. Of hundreds, thousands of tramping feet, marching to the beat of those fearful drums. Marching to the beat of the patriots' hearts.

    The Roman legions had arrived. On and on they came, toward the towering fortress Antonia. Down the streets where on either side, in the darkened buildings, the conquered people quivered in fear, huddling together in the darkness. Nathan stood on the edge of the street, watching, with fire in his eyes. Someday it would be his people that would march in triumph. But not like that. Never. They would not march in disdainful hatred but with joy and thanksgiving... joy in their freedom and thanksgiving to the Lord.

    They drew nearer. At the head of the legions rode the officers. Foremost, on a horse black as midnight, towering proudly above all the others, rode the new tribune. The tribune Messala. Although he had never seen him, Nathan knew instinctively who he was. That proud bearing, such a look of cold haughtiness as he had never seen in the face of any human being. That cruel disdain flickering in the black eyes. Messala was a changed man. He had left Jerusalem five years ago, little more than a boy looking for adventure. He was returning a man... a treacherous and powerful man, with a stone in place of the heart that had once beat in his breast. Rome had destroyed Messala. And now had Messala had returned to Jerusalem to destroy its people. He was a man to be feared.

    But Nathan did not fear him... not in the way that most feared him. His fear was for Tirzah. He did not even think of himself as his eyes met those of the tribune and, for one instant, intense hatred shone in the eyes of both. No, he could not have the love he longed for. But that was not why he worried. It was because of the young girl, sweet and innocent as she was. What would happen to her gentle, tender heart when it was touched by the disdainful cruelty of the conquering Roman?