Unfortunately, Aquila had no idea he had put his son in danger, not only from enemy combatants, but also from the legionaries of his own cohort and the other centurions.
A Roman legion was divided into units called a cohors. Each cohors was divided into six centuriae. Each centuria usually consisted of a hundred legionaries. The primus pilus centurion commanded the 1st cohors, 1st centuria and was the highest ranking centurion in the legion. The other nine cohors were commanded by pilus prior or cohort centurions. All of the remaining fifty centurions had no other title. As the lowest ranking centurion, Longinus commanded the 10th cohors, 6th centuria.
Adas shouted, “Octavean, shut your mouth! You may be drunk, but don’t defile any honor you might have by taunting a defenseless man. I know you are not a coward. Don’t pretend to be one.”
“Yes, Sir!” Lucius’s mouth tightened as his gray eyes narrowed with resentment. He rejoined the other soldiers. Falto and Hektor exchanged glances, but didn’t dare make a comment. Jamin could see that the centurion was genuinely angry at the legionary’s disrespect. Unlike the other soldiers, the centurion was not drunk, not gambling, and not ridiculing the criminals.
Curious, Jamin watched him. The centurion stepped a few feet away from his men. Guardedly, Jamin looked at the soldier. The centurion’s eyes had an unsettling appearance, deep-set with a piercing stare, not dark, but not pale. Jamin lowered his gaze.
Adas fingered the handle of his dagger. Even though he hated this part of his job, he accepted it. His usual tactic was to focus on the crime of the condemned, rather than the person. Today, none of his coping skills were working. His growing anxiety made him irritable. Looking for a distraction, he glanced at Jamin.
Adas looked from Jamin to the thief on the right and saw the same features. All the soldiers knew that Demas had confessed. They could not believe anyone would willingly surrender himself for crucifixion. They joked about the young Hebrew who had lost his mind. A few were skeptical enough to suspect it was a trick to get inside the garrison. The others retorted that if it was a trick, it was a very stupid trick.
“Is he your relative?” Adas asked. Jamin was amazed he spoke to him in Hebrew, and nodded in answer. “Do you wish to give him something to drink?”
Jamin thanked him, took a sponge from his knapsack and secured it to his stick. He poured wine into the sponge. “He’s my little brother.”
Lucius looked up from his gambling and frowned at Adas. “Is there something you want to say, Octavean?”
Lucius came to his feet at attention. “No, Centurion. I have nothing to say.”
“Then get that sneer off your face.”
“Yes, Sir.” Lucius sat down. He clenched his fists, but his expression turned stoic.
Hektor wondered why Lucius went out of his way to antagonize Longinus. It was foolish at best, dangerous at worst. Yet, Hektor knew Lucius was no fool. Something odd was going on. He wondered if a profit could be made. Taking bets on a fight to the death between Longinus and Octavean would garner a great deal of money. The risk of such a scheme would be substantial, but Hektor was a gambling man. He never could resist a good wager.
Chapter 2
Lucius tossed his wineskin down. Since it was nearly empty, he didn’t bother to reseal it. “By the gods, I will teach that fraud of a centurion a lesson someday. I hate sitting here with flies and heat waiting for these convicts to die, especially under his command. Valentius pulls Longinus out of rotation for the worst assignments, and us along with him. As long as we’re in his centuria we’re going to suffer.” The other two soldiers nodded in agreement.
As Jamin tended to Demas, Adas walked a short distance away, giving the brothers some privacy. Adas didn’t hear what Lucius said to the other two soldiers, but Jamin did. It surprised him to hear dissention in the ranks. He thought Romans were always brutally well organized.
When Demas could take no more wine, he turned his head away. Jamin lowered the stick and retreated to his place on the sand. Lucius watched, disgusted that the thief was allowed to receive aid. He could be punished for insubordination, but in his drunkenness, he didn’t care.
“Centurion Longinus, Sir! Do you wish us to give comfort to the other two as well? If we ignore them it might stir up a riot.” If he had been sober, Lucius would never have called the centurion’s judgment or courage into question.
Adas bristled with anger. “Are you mocking me, Octavean? Are you too stupid to know it makes no difference what you think of me? I can order your execution, and it will be done.”
Lucius leapt to his feet. He wanted to say, “Are you sure about that?” Instead, he caged his temper and apologized. “I meant no harm, Centurion. Pilate has made it clear he does not want another riot. The criminal in the center is popular with the people. They may rally against us, and there are only four of us.”
“Your feigned concern doesn’t fool me! Offer the wine to the other two men.”
While Lucius obeyed, Hektor whispered to Falto, “Want to wager on a fight to the death? Octavean or Longinus?”
Falto nodded. “Put me down for ten denarii on the Lion.”
Lucius often got into fights, but always with people of lesser status to avoid severe punishment. But with this young centurion, he seemed to be purposely baiting him. The two legionaries were unaware of what motivated him to play this dangerous game, but they figured the end result would be entertaining.
Adas again fingered the handle of his dagger and glared at Lucius. He was tired of the legionary’s questionable attitude. Adas tried to focus on anyone other than Lucius and his eyes fell on Yeshua. The man watched him with the most unexpected expression—sympathy. Yeshua had been silent for some time, but now he spoke with clarity. The centurion stared in shock. The other three soldiers stopped what they were doing and frowned at Adas.
“Centurion, what did he say?” asked Hektor, surprised at the astonishment on his commanding officer’s face. Adas did not respond at first, but then he translated.
Lucius shrugged his shoulders. “Forgive us? For what? We’re following orders. He tells his father to forgive us. Who is his father? Where is he?” He scanned the crowd of spectators. “I don’t see anyone who could be his father.”
Adas tugged on his armor as if the metal chest-plate was uncomfortable. The legionaries returned to their game, but Lucius shouted no more insults at the Nazarene. Adas studied Yeshua as shame pierced his heart. The heat was making him slightly sick, or at least, that is what he told himself as he sat down on the sand. However, his persistent nauseous feeling was getting worse. He tried to imagine he was somewhere else, anywhere but here. Nothing on this day was as it should be. His fellow soldier was his enemy, and the Nazarene, who should have cursed him, had instead forgiven him. The eerie darkness which started as soon as Yeshua was on the cross only increased the dread he felt as soon as Valentius assigned him the executions.
A childish voice interrupted the centurion’s thoughts. “Soldier, why are you sitting there with your eyes closed? Don’t you like to watch criminals die?” A Roman boy of nine years old stood next to Adas with his small hands on his hips. Annoyed with the intrusion, Adas snapped his eyes open and glared at the child. Startled, the boy stepped back.
A man yanked him away. “What did I tell you about wandering off? It’s not safe, especially here.” The boy’s
