The Silver Chalice by Thomas B. Costain Page A

very small matter indeed. I was denied the privilege of seeing Him, but it would make no difference to me if He had performed no miracles at all. It is what He taught, Adam ben Asher. He brought us the sublime truth that our God is the God of charity and forgiveness and that we may be redeemed and washed of our sins by the blood that was spilled on Calvary. When you ride on your camel, Adam, it is not the amulet around the animal’s neck that supplies the strength to carry you from Aleppo to Jerusalem. This talk of miracles has no more importance to us than the amulet has to you.”
    “Then why do people come out in such crowds to see Simon the Magician? Why are they beginning to say he is the Messiah and not Jesus of Nazareth?”
    “The number of deserters is small. No true Christian pays any attention to this trickster, this mountebank.”
    “It is not wise to pass him over lightly. There may be more than
keshef
in what he does. Oh, he is a wise one, that Simon. What do you suppose he did last night to make all the roving eyes of Aleppo pop right out oftheir sockets? He used a girl as a helper on the platform. Yes, O Luke, in full view of everyone and without even a veil over her face. A beautiful girl, with eyes like the stars and hair as black as midnight. She had a shape which turned the amorous bones of Aleppo to water. At first it seemed there might be a riot because women are not allowed to show their faces in public. But after a few moments it was apparent they were licking their lips and enjoying it.”
    “His heart is black with wickedness!” declared Luke. “I am surprised he was not struck down by a thunderbolt from the angry hand of Jehovah.”
    “Where do you suppose this man of black heart goes next to display his tricks? To Jerusalem.”
    “I cannot believe it!” cried Luke. “Simon is a Samaritan. He would not be allowed to appear publicly in the Holy City.”
    “I am not as sure of that as you. His aim is to make light of Jesus of Nazareth, and it may very well be that the high priests will welcome him. I would not be at all surprised if the great men of the Temple allowed him to do his tricks outside the very Gate of the Golden Bars.”
    Luke gave his head an anxious shake. “It is fortunate, then,” he said, “that Paul is going to Jerusalem. Something must be done to prove this Simon a trickster and a cheat—this Bad Samaritan!”
    That night, after Adam had fallen to snoring like the slow beat of a native fist on a taut drum, Luke said to Basil, who was stretched out beside him: “I shall stop in Antioch on my way to rejoin Paul and give notification to the courts of your release, and the terms. You are freer than is allowed under the Roman laws, but in Antioch, as in other provinces of the empire, they have begun to wink at such relaxations. Then I shall apply under a writ of
postliminium
to have your citizenship restored to you. I think it will be allowed because there is a general belief in the city that you were infamously treated. They have resented the corrupt methods that Linus used and they have nothing but contempt for him.”
    “I thought freedmen were held in scorn,” said Basil.
    “In Rome it is so. That city is filled with ex-slaves, and the old Romans resent their wealth and insolence. They still speak angrily of the marriage of Drusilla, a granddaughter of Antony and Cleopatra, to a freedman of Judea named Felix. They mutter a great deal because Nero admits so many freedmen to posts of authority under him. But outside of Rome it is different. Have you ever seen a
pileus
worn on the head of a freedman in Antioch?”
    Basil shook his head. “I do not think so.”
    “They must still wear it in Rome.” Luke paused reflectively. “In your case we have a definite advantage, for you were born free and your father was a citizen of Rome. I am sure, my son, that you may sleep easily and in full confidence that you will never have to don the
pileus!
”
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    Luke left the next