My flesh is so intense in pain; my open wounds brimming with worms are scorching and boiling to a point where the emitting fetid smell from my whole body is the decaying and disgusting stench.

Only if I can find rest in my sleep at night, in any peace will I do it, where lamenting is my only comfort; with my tears from groaning and moaning, easiness in agony is my leisure; but then, a sudden attack of fear disturbs my peaceful sleep! From the power of my mind is a horrifying nightmare that awakens me. (JOB)

THE DOUBLE LAYERED CHAINS OF SHACKLES

Let’s go back for a few hours to where we left the disrupted story of Prince Antipater, when seeing their fierce aggression against his father’s tyrannical regime was declining, he immediately left. Their rebellious plot were failing and defeat is rest assured, Prince Antipater hot on his heels, fled the scene, barely escaping the Romans sharpened weapons. Leaving the temple, his only thought was survival in the face of imminent danger, pursuing his own deliverance to save his life.

An Arab man who seemed deaf, sitting quietly on a concrete bench, nearing the dirty impoverished door, located in one of those narrow streets of Bezetha, (the New City of Jerusalem, north and northwest of the Temple) is not hearing any roaring sounds from the brutal battle in the temple. His colored bronze cheeks, and his wide stripe cape in different colors are wrapped around his thin body, a rough stare from his sunken, narrow eyes is an affirmation of his non-importance status in life, revealing that he is one of those rejected residents by the Arabs, driven and pushed away to the outer parts of town.He was undisturbed by those bewailing, and groaning of the dying, and restrained in his hand is the horse’s rein, fiercely neighing beside him, the horse is slightly disturbed from the muddled disorder in the Temple.

Coiled around his neck is a heavy chain of slavery, a weight that they carry all their lives, from their forefathers to their children, generation unto generations, through the entire length of their lives, unconscious of the shameful burden their carrying, needless to say, of enslavement, like heaven’s curse.

The young Prince is running on foot, smeared with his sweat and blood, he comes bursting forth through the said street of Bezetha, rushing rapidly to that deaf man in possession of a ferocious horse; an abrupt nab, quickly grabs the rein from this man’s hand and, like a flash of light, he jumped on top of that horse’s back. The horse began to bounce up and down, neighing furiously, while the Prince tossed a few silver coins on the ground, while turning the horse sideways for a swift escape.

—“Slave! You are now free! Celebrate your freedom with my misfortune from that silver coins I gave you.”

An abrupt whipped at the horse’s side, drives Antipater’s horse burst out flying.

Like a roaring ravenous wolf, the Arab slave drove himself down to the ground and savagely grasped the silver coins. He had never seen this much money in his life, this is a significant amount for him, and that money was his. Overwhelmed with joy, the slave sprawled his hands, grasping the silver coins greedily on the ground; he did not notice the approaching two horsemen, clattering on that dusty road, stopping in front of him, for his full attention was with his silver coins, as if a dream had come true, with a sudden twist of fate that he could hardly believe.

—“Hey!” One of the horse riders howled at him while veering his horse, avoiding the slave man on the ground.

As if the slave man was lost in his newfound wealth, a sudden shout pierced his ear, startling him. He turned around and saw the two horsemen with their swords glinting in the sunlight. Blinded by the light, he began flickering his eyes, adopting his eyes to the sunlight, his heart starts pounding, his suspicious mind is intensely growing : “were these two men thieves? Did they come to steal his newfound treasure? Fear gripped him as he tightly clutched his money, but he quickly hid it inside his cloak.

—“Hey, good man!” a once again call out from one of the horsemen.

—“Who is that horse rider rapidly passed through here?”

—“I don’t know, sir!” the Arab slave responded. —“But he seemed like the King’s son.”

—“That’s my brother.” One of the horsemen said to the other.

—“That’s what I thought too!” The other horsemen responded while nodding.

—“Therefore Cingo, you know what to do.”

—“I will not forget my commitment my Prince.”

—“May the god Mercury give you the wings for great speed, and may the blast of the stormy wind carry you fiercely, lifting you from the ground, envying your horse’s speedy course.”

—“And that’s my goal.”

As the two parted ways, Archelao fast turned his horse around, trailing his way back to the Temple without any delay, while Herod’s favorite slave, Cingo, hastily left, faster than the speed of light, chasing after his prey, Antipater. The Arab man was left alone in the middle of the street puzzled, needing an explanation of what had just happened.

In utter confusion of the turbulent event, he just shrugged off his shoulder and yawned, although his mind is still reeling off the event, he stretched out his hands and returned to the bench. Collapsing on that concrete chair, he closed his eyes, exhausted and in need of rest, but his mind was far from calming.

A group of people enjoying their day under the shady tower of quadrangle, are debating the recent outbreak of the rebellious Israelites in the Temple, a significant event that stirred the entire region. When all of a sudden, Antipater, in full swing at the height of his activity, driving his horse rapidly, was fast approaching Damascus, running over those people, creating rampage, causing people’s infuriation. Antipater is getting out of control, making his horse convulse for its’ rapid course, passing through the Roman Triumphal Arch on the street called, “Straight in Damascus,” making buzzing sounds as he passes swiftly through those arches, advancing fast, exiting out in the field, while the other horseman, Cingo, a dark and mysterious figure, is coming fast, chasing after the King’s son, Antipater.

In the middle of the chaotic chase, a sudden voice pierces through the air:

—“May satan give you all guidance!” A Hebrew man shouts, stepping aside on the wall to avoid being trampled. His unexpected words, is a stark contrast to the urgency of the pursuit, hanging in the air, injecting a moment of surprise into the unfolding drama.

—“They are crazy!” another one said.

—“Justified! They are escaping the battle.” exclaimed the young man.

—“Why, do you know them?”

—“Whoa! And who in this town doesn’t know the womanlike son of Herod, let alone the dark slave?”

The conversation continued in hushed tones as the two horsemen disappeared into the labyrinthine streets, narrow and winding, like a maze that only the locals could navigate, leaving behind the intricate arcades of arches and mosques, with their ornate carvings and towering minarets, oblivious to the unfolding scene.

For an hour the chase continues, the two horsemen racing through the streets, the hunted and the hunter in a relentless pursuit. The tension is palpable, the audience are on the edge of their seats, as the hunter struggles to close the gap. But the hunted, with a speed that matches his pursuer, remains just out of reach.

Cingo realized he could only catch up with Antipater if the chased horse stumbled down and fell over; this was his only hope of getting the Prince, the fate of his mission, and perhaps his life, hanging in the balance. Drawing on the wisdom of what the desert children usually do, Cingo took a daring leap, tightly gripping the horse’s mane. It was a calculated risk, a high-stakes gamble, as he successfully removed the saddle, the blanket, and other barriers attached to this pitiful horse. The tension was obvious, anxiousness is manifesting in the air, each moment filled with the weight of uncertainty. With this position, Cingo laid himself flat at the neck of his horse, running fast against the wind, with his face downward, to not obstruct his horse’s rapid pace, and the horse even neighing loudly, like saying to his Lord: “Now we’ll get him.”

But Antipater’s abrupt wit immediately determined that his pursuer was gradually catching up on him. It was definitive that the hunstman was getting near, and salvation was no longer possible; besides that, he didn’t have enough courage to face that ferocious negro. Amidst this thought, a quick plan came to his senses to cast himself down to the ground and hide through the surrounding woods. Antipater has a strong will to this plan; he carefully observed and surmised his location, and at a rapid pace, he quickly spotted a deep, narrow crack in his pathway, which fits his plan. To not be noticed by the pursuant, he gradually, and bit by bit, began to backslide at the horse’s hips, slowly descending down and finally plunging to the ground in a vertical position. He quickly completed all this work without Cingo’s sight because of the hilly road.

A sharp poke at the horse’s side with Antipater’s dagger made the animal sensed the pain that a sharp object pricked his side. With the lessened burden from his back, the horse ran faster than before and even gained more speed like flying.

The Prince ran and hid quickly in the woods. After a while, from where he was hiding and peeping in between the trees, Antipater watched a dark ghost, a dim figure of Cingo, striding fast, lying flat down his horse, running fast. After five more minutes, the horse’s rumbling footsteps slowly diminished from afar.

A highly energized Cingo surged forward with great fervor, his mind ablaze with the triumphant moment when Antipater and his horse would be side by side, relentlessly pursuing and eagerly anticipating the capture of his prey. The thrill of the chase was high; the sound of his horse’s hooves pounding the earth, the smell of sweat and dust in the air, and the sight of Antipater’s figure growing more extensive in the distance all added to the moments intensity. The anticipation of the capture heightened the excitement, making the chase more thrilling.

Meanwhile, Antipater let out a long deep sigh, a wave of relief washing over him as the echoing sounds of retreating footsteps signaled his safety. The immediate danger had passed, yet the foreboding feeling of an impending storm heralding a somber fate. He felt like a victim. His degradation was a daunting reality, his future a violent abyss.

From that harrowing night of misfortune, one bright star stood out in the darkened sky of disaster: a flickering star, the only favorable thing to see, with its’ clean and graceful glow gently illuminating the otherwise troubled night for this unfortunate Prince. But in his mind, it was Enoe, his favorite servant, an innocent dove from the Nile of Egypt, migrated through the coast of Jordan, radiating a melancholic light, and before his heart’s frustration from the sweet sound of love is the dainty and beautiful Egyptian, who made love to a Hebrew Prince. A double layered chain of love and enslavement.

Whenever Antipater feels exhausted, his mind and soul weaken, and his being like a melting candle, is the time to be with Enoe, to fly and be by her side, to be with her presence, to find in her his life that is slowly disintegrating through family’s discord. The love of Enoe’s mysterious charm that’s giving him great courage to keep going. A dew of love from heaven, descending to those longing, those grieving hearts delighted by those smiling Angels that drive away the exhausting dreams of life. The abounding comfort, as in the feeling of great pleasure; wealth in riches like that of a soil; and beautiful to behold akin to the purity of a refined pearl, is the congenerous light of dawn, a sacred vessel to the unfortunate lovers, like a reward sprinkled by an invisible hand of God to heal all wounds of heart and soul.

Love and beloved is the understandable language of the kissers’ stuttering accents–consideration of the meaningful phrases from those sweet glances, tasting th sweet fruits of a perfumed sigh by refreshing the fragrances of hearts delivered to us. The mind with a darkened vision deserves a faithful friend at last! From the world’s clamor is the piece of mind that allows the forgetfulness of human delusion in the nest of love, and what more happiness is there to seek? What is good to find love for others and find happiness on this earth if in a sudden is God’s finality to end the bitterness of a flavorful life?

Despite the overwhelming exhaustion and a profound sense of misfortune in the depths of the woods, Antipater found a contrasting strength within him. He confronted his inner turmoil with unwavering courage, determined to withstand the storm.

With Enoe’s comforting sweet scents lingering in his mind, her heavenly fragrances and glistening melodies, and her unforgettable memories of love, Antipater finally realizes that his unfortunate downfall is not the end. He envisions a future filled with love and hope, a reason to continue living. This awakening, this realization is a testament to the transformative power of love. With his newfound consciousness, an incredible throught came to his mind, and he said to himself these words:

—“Enoe loves me; I should be with her. Her love is the anchor that keeps me steady, and her home will be my haven, my refuge. Her tears are not just tears but the healing comfort I desire, my freedom from pain, and the alleviation of my distress. Her sweet, warm feeling of love and deep affection in her songs can restore my broken soul to the state of security and peacefulness I desperately needed. Her love is not just love, but a medicinal balm that soothes my distressed sad soul.

The thought of the Prince’s possible scenario with Enoe had finally ended, and he got up and carefully emerged from where he was hiding. The surroundings were quiet; scouring the dense woods, investigating his location and the path he needed to follow to Jericho, he began to walk. Tracing the gentle stream of the Jordan River, near where he lived, was his guide to his destination.

A few more hours passed, and the gloomy night fell heavily. This lonely Prince walked alone, finally reaching his destination. The escapee knocked at his slave’s door, and Enoe immediately opened the door and found out that this was his lover.

As we described in another part, Enoe is a young lady, 18 years old, and very beautiful. She is brown in color, healthy, and has a well-built body, worthy of being born to the sacred river. She is falling in love with her Lord, the usual possible thing that can happen to a slave from Egypt, forced to love their new Lord, their buyer, which means respect, a feeling of deep admiration that has a lot to do with worshipping. There is only one affliction that worries the sweet and gentle heart of this wretched young woman……………………………..and that is LOVE!

Her delightful lips only know one word, and that is to pronounce the word “Antipater.” She also remembers her hometown’s name occassionally but quickly forgets it at a sweet glance of her owner.

As he stepped into Enoe’s home, Antipater’s gaze landed upon her delightful servant and kissed her cheek tenderly. Enoe swiftly wrapped her arms around him, propelling him into the nearby room, made known to be the bedroom. Amidst the comfortable surroundings, the beautiful Egyptian was finally able to take in the distressing sight of her beloved. His clothes were torn, drenched in blood, his hair disheveled, his face gaunt and pallid, and his eyes hollow with despair, as if he was on the brink of oblivion. The formerly handsome Prince seemed to have aged a decade in just a single day. Enoe was utterly stunned, unable to utter a word until a heart-wrenching scream escaped her lips, followed by an immediate embrace to comfort the man she held so dear.

Antipater paid her back with a warm embrace, a long, emotional, loud smack followed by a sweet smile, and before the slave even say a word, Antipater spoke like this:

—“My beloved Enoe, I am very hungry; it’s been twenty hours since I’ve eaten something. It is not in my will to walk a long way because I am not used to it. I am in deep pain right now. My sensitive and fragile feet displayed super strength, but look at it; they are wounded and full of scars.”

Antipater laid his foot on the pillows and showed Enoe his wounded feet.

—“Oh no!” Enoe exclaimed.

—“Don’t worry about my foot, but take care of my tummy.” The prince spoke in a gentle voice, lifting-up Enoe’s feeling at the same time.

Enoe got up to leave the room, while wiping her tears. The compassionate woman did not even break her silence. She couldn’t find distinct words to express her great distress, she was crying, typical of those with sensitive soul and a loving heart. As Enoe left the room, Antipater followed her with his eyes, full of compassion, he gave her his sweet glare, giving her a gentle loving affection and said this:

—“I understand your distressing situation. Finding the right words to express such deep anguish can be difficult. Sometimes emotions are so overwhelming that words cannot capture the depth of the pain and sadness one feels. It’s okay to express what you’re going through.”

However, Enoe did not say a word and continued to go, leaving the room to prepare his food. Antipater were full of sorrow for Enoe.

—“Pathetic lady.” He whispers to himself.

—“The gods and goddesses are the only ones who can tell what you’re about to face when my father’s slaves wrapped their deadly chains around my neck prepared for me.”

These words were followed by his sigh, and with his tired small hands, he parted his messy hair, covering his forehead as he fell back to his bed. He felt sorrowful for Enoe and for himself, knowing that his demise was approaching.

The sun’s emanating light from the sky is coming down like dazzling glitters, its streaming radiance and everlasting brilliance through the sun’s metaphorical boldness on that day of the month of Adar, known as the month of festivities and celebrations, is a joyful event in the late winter.

The month of Adar’s celebration contains the happy holiday of Purim, which takes place in mid-month, it commemorates the Divine salvation of the Jewish people in the Ancient Persian Empire from Haman’s plot to annihilate Jewish race in a single day, young and old, women and infants.

According to Jewish calendar, they celebrate this festivity between February to March. This celebration was originated from Israel’s past events, remembering their history’s secret anguish, but the event that took place had changed the direction of the past from grief to joy. This is the festivity of the “The Best of Luck,” the celebration of the feast of the “Purim.” However, on the 7th and 8th of the month of Adar is their special day for observing Moses death, by expressing it through fasting and restraining themselves from indulging in bodily activities. But on the 14th and 15 of the month of the feast of “Purim,” is the celebration commemorating the day when beautiful Esther persuaded the King to cancel an order for the extermination of Jews in its realm, plotted by the King’s favorite, “Haman,” the Chief Minister.

Haman, the Chief Minister, was also an astrologer, and with his team of senior astrologers, they chose the perfect time to annihilate the Jew, “the month Moses died.” This is a horrific event for the Jews’ execution, but this is also a miscalculation in Haman’s part, because this is also the date of Moses’s birth. Moses is very unique, because from the moment of his birth, the home was filled with his radiance. The contribution of Moses was evident from the outset, and therefore, his birthday outweighs the day of his passing. Haman didn’t realize that the spiritual life of Moses was far more significant than the loss of his physical body. Haman’s plan didn’t work, because as recorded in the Book of Esther, and it came to pass that this beautiful Queen Esther rescued the Hebrew people from the sword that could have destroyed them.

Haman was the scheming Prime Minister who convinced King Ahasuerus to allow the annihilation of all Jews in the Persian Empire, because the Jewish man named Mordecai refused to bow down to him like a slave. After King Ahasuerus promoted Haman to Prime Minister, he passed a law requiring everyone to bow to Haman, who fancied himself as god. Mordecai, however, leader of the Jews in that generation, refused to bow. This angered Haman so much that he plotted to wipe out all the Jews and made arrangements to hang Mordecai on towering gallows. Queen Esther who revealed her Jewish identity to King Ahasuerus, exposed Haman’s dishonesty and foiled his scheming plot against her people, and pleaded King Ahasuerus to spare her people.

King Ahasuerus discovered Haman’s treason and unjustifiable hatred towards the Jewish people. The King was outraged at Haman’s treachery and ordered that he be executed instead. In King’s order, Haman was hanged on the gallows he had built to hang Mordecai, and the King’s wrath ceased.

The next day, King Ahasuerus paraded Mordecai–dressed in King’s clothing and riding the King’s horse, through the streets of Shusan calling, “Thus shall be done to the man whom the King wishes to honor!”

The beautiful sunlight on that 14th day of the month, the sun’s cascading glow, glimmering and shimmering, descending down upon that town, outpouring its radiant glory like strings of gold on the first day of celebration, was just the primary day from the two days festivities.

A great crowd of people are roaming the streets on that day. There are countless houses in the city, but more are needed to accomodate such crowd. The visitors visits the place to listen and hear the High Priest’s spoken words inside the Temple, rendering the beautiful phrases from the Book of Esther their deliverer.

The foreigners touring the city are pushing and shoving each other, young and old, men and women, rushing and forcing their way quickly to reach the lower city (downtown). To choose the good spot is their inclination, a perfect space for them from that spacious patio called “The Court of the Nation.” Adar, the cheerful holiday of Purim, is truly the most important day for the Jewish faith, and not everyone is allowed to enter Israel’s court.

The massive entrance on the east side, called “The Doorways of Solomon’s Temple,” was so enormous that it swallowed the gigantic flood of movement. The vast crowd of people passing through the gate of the city of Shusan, and continously entering through the gate called “Cortina,” where in front of it were two enormous giant-like pillars with a law written in Latin and Greek saying: “The gentiles are forbidden to enter, including the unclean, and to do so is punishable by death.” Continuing walking a little further more is another gate waiting to be discovered, but behind that main gate is a patio strictly for priests, forbidden for public.

Everybody is just as happy; blessedness and lightness in spirit are molded in their faces. Most of the people are now inside the Temple and has chosen their position into what they think is their best preferences from among their choices. The roaring sound of the noisy crowd was astounding, and it is usually common to such festivities. Everyone can see lightheartedness beaming on their faces while waiting for their High Priest’s appearance.

The time for the High Priest to arrive has finally come, and he has to start the ceremony. He is an older man with a refined face, tall and elegantly ennoble. He is wearing an ankle-length garment. A robe in a blue-hyacinth color, and at the hem of the garment are sixty-two small golden bells causing the ringing sounds as the Priest move. He is wearing a type of apron on top of the blue robe, where the twelve shining precious stones are in the middle. This valuable predious stones in the middle is called “the Breastplate,” it has two sashes tied around, encircling the body like waistcoat, an ephod made of gold and blue, purple, and scarlet yarn, finely twisted, made of skilled hands.

On both shoulder sides are like a gold badge, made of onyx; engraved on the right shoulder are the six names of Jacob’s oldest children, and on the left are the six youngest. The crown turban or the bonnet, is the total sum of this Holy and sacred religious dress, wherein the front forehead is the plate of pure gold with written Hebrew letters, and a blue cord is fast attached in front of the turban. This High Priest is barefoot, for he was standing on Holy ground.

At that point, the High Priest looked around the vast crowd, amazed at the massive number of people he saw, but with extreme happiness, he came up to the pulpit and blessed everyone. The time has come for the High Priest to begin the ceremony, and with his uplifting spirit, he opened up the book he carried, and with ease, he read aloud. Everyone was quiet and listening; it was so quieted that anyone who passed through by mistake might conclude that the Temple was empty. The High Priest started to speak in a raspy and gentle voice.

—“Hear ye! Hear ye! What is said in the Book of Esther, daughter of Abigail, Mordecai’s niece, in the house of Benjamin, wife of Ahasuerus, the King of Persia.”

Then, the High Priest stop speaking. But thereon, he continued and read the book’s first two chapters in the middle of that divine silence.

The narrative from the Book of Esther is all pleasant, and nothing more is said but all-important except for the first wife of the Persian King Ahasuerus. Queen Vashti is the first wife of King Ahasuerus, a portrayal of a beautiful Queen, a married woman, the wife, who should have obeyed her husband.

So it seemed that Queen Vashti’s disobidience was when her husband, King Ahasuerus heart was merry with wine, he ordered his chamberlains to bring Queen Vashti before him wearing only the royal crown, to show her beauty to the nations and ministers, for she was indeed beautiful. But Queen Vashti refused to appear by the King’s order brought by the chamberlains, and the King grew furious and his wrath seethed within him. As a result of her disobidience, King Ahasuerus was encouraged to dismiss Vashti and find another Queen, Queen Esther, who stole the heart of the Persian King through love.

Throughout the story, everyone was intense, quietly listening and no one attempt to move. But in the end after some time, in the third chapter, where the unpopular story of Haman was being told:

—“Haman was offended because Mordecai refused to bow down before him like a slave. Upon learning Mordecai’s identity, he rejected laying hands on him alone, but instead, and without a minute, he changed his mind to spare Mordecai, but sought to destroy all of Mordecai’s people, the Jews throughout the Kingdom of Xerxes.” And so, full of wrath, Haman thought to spur his King’s interest and incite him to annihilate the Jewish race. After going through this predetermined course, the King signed the decree, and this hateful Haman, the King’s beloved, had induced to decide the day and month, which fell on the 13th day of the twelfth month, the month of Adar.

At this moment in time, the High Priest with tears in his eyes, read verse 15 saying this:

—“The order by decree was agreed upon and summoned strictly at Ahasuerus court. Those commanded hurriedly fulfilled King’s orders, they were scattered and dispersed to every province. A copy of the edict text was issued and announced to all the people in the citadel of Shusan to exterminate the Jewish race, young and old, women and children, on the thirteenth day of Adar, the twelfth month, and for them to be ready on that day.”

—“Upon completing the issuance of these orders, the King and Haman had their celebration, feasting for this cause, while all the Jews in the city wept bitterly.”

The High Priest stopped reading, tearful. It was silent for several seconds, and then the crowd’s sorrowful crying broke out loud; the women were tearing their garments, and men were pulling their hair, while the youngs were holding their hammers and sharp thick woods, raising their hands in the air like threatening. Since then, when the High Priest mentioned the name “Haman,” the crowd shouted, “Curse be the name!”

Then, the Jew’s overwhelming emotions were suddenly filled with joy when the High Priest read Esther verse 10 chapter 7, saying:

—“Therefore, Haman was hanged on the gallows he built to hang Mordecai, and the King’s wrath ceased.”

The High Priest’s reading of the Book of Esther was in the ending when all of a sudden, an incredible chaos erupts, an unexpected uproar broke out into that joyous Jewish festival, their Holy Celebration.

A group of young men gathered before the gate in which the golden eagle was set and began to pull it down.

—“Break down that golden eagle to the ground, the god of the lawless!” Shouts by several voices coming from above the Temple gate.

—“The Lion of Judah wants to be free!” Responded by several voices coming from the crowd.

The Temple took many years to build, and the Jews prided in Herod’s accomplishment until Herod placed a huge Roman eagle over the most important gate of the new Temple. The golden eagle, a symbol of friendship and reverence to Rome was thrown down the ground with force, and broke into pieces.

A group of young Hebrew men carrying hammers climbed over the high main gate, threw the golden eagle, rolled down the ground, and smashed it, a display of arrogance and lack of respect for this holy celebration. An enormous chaos from the crowd followed, a complete disorder and confusion, and the loud outcry of the public in disarray had a different intonation and volume: others were in great joy, others were surprised and in shock, and others were in tremendous fear. Every woman, young and old, quickly left the place, aware of the presumable danger; running for protection from harm, they locked themselves within their houses.

Antipater’s soldiers, Dimas’ men, and the disciples: Mathias, Judas and Addai, are now slowly approaching, mingling with the crowd like they are one of them, but hidden from the public view are their daggers, flashing glitz at the hit of the irradiating sun. On the other side of the patio are a group of people, calm and quiet, watching, figuring what could this be about and trying to sense of what could be the outcome of this turmoil. In this kind of utter disorder and confusion, the words spread quickly in every corner of the city and the nearby towns. Finally, the news reached out through Herod’s palace and came about to Herod’s son’s ears, Archelaus and General Verutidio.

At the sound of the trumpet, Tiber’s soldiers are quickly assembled. Archelaus and General Verutidio immediately prepared and put on their swords; they got on their horses and swiftly rushed to where the source of the leading uprising begun, to make this anachists pay the high price for their daring violent outbreak. As Herod’s soldiers approached the Temple’s gate, the rebels immediately reacted and positioned themselves with their leaders, preparing to battle, getting to ready to put up their barbarous strategies and witty intellect with their clever tactics that they were trained to combat.

The shoutings and disturbances of the people had stopped, and everyone was rattled and scared about the confrontation between the rebels and Herod’s soldiers. The brave Israelites watched the enormous, fully equipped soldiers advancing towards them, nearing them. In split seconds, the courageous rebels understand and grasp the brutal danger of their situation, for Herod’s soldiers are ten times stronger and more ready than they are. The adversaries are armed to kill; they encountered the soldiers with shields made of many layers of thick wood wrapped in leather skin with an iron trimmed from top to bottom. They carry sharp swords and daggers that can exterminate their opponent in one single blow. At the same time, the Israelites have nothing to show but their large and robust chests covered with thin linens, the stronghold muscles of a man’s chest where a sword can plunged-in only to pull out drenched with their blood, the Roman’s swords that strikes with no mercy and pierce to destroy.

Dimas freaked out at the countles soldiers in front of them, ready to attack and pounce them hard; Dimas sensed his men were panicking; he needed his quick wits right now; his men were not fully capable and not fully equipped, and they could get overwhelmed and finally loosen up their bold and daring strength, But the blood can intensify the warrior’s mental desire to fight.

For fear that his men may pull back in this inner danger, Dimas’s quick ability to think in this dangerous situation had made his left hand abruptly pulled his long sword. He threw it in full force like an arrow, targeting the leading Capitol soldier, the Centurion. The long sword flew in the air and plunged into Centurion’s chest, piercing him, and the shocked soldier cried out in horror as he fell dead from his horse, drenched in his own blood. The warrior’s screaming and their howling eruption broke out as the opening-outset of the battle began. The clashing forces collided violently, men to men, one on one. The swords ringing sounds reverberates as they swing their blades against each other. The loud outcries of the warriors are raging, making the fighters mental strength more active. The forces between the two groups are escalating, energetically fearless, like a crazed maniacs!

The Israelites had able to counter-attack the first aggression of the Roman soldiers. Both sides are reinforcing their strength, alternating as they avert to cover each other, keeping the quality of their being physically strong. The Israelites are defending the Temple of Jerusalem and their covenant with God, while the Romans fight to punish the mischievous perpetrators who disrespected their victorious golden eagle. Blood flows like water; the battle was the last coup, an act of extrusion to free their motherland, the last attempt of a very weak slave to break-free from bondage, and to overthrow a savage King, restraining them by his perverse power.

The warriors are like ravenous wolves, viciously heartless, begging for life but won’t be heard, for the wounded are completely eradicated with no mercy.

The beastly fight is weakening, and the Israelites are losing the battle because of the countless Romans; some rebels are already disappearing, running for their lives for they are losing the battle.

Antipater is one of the first to flee from the battlefield. The treacherous Prince with a woman’s behaviour had lost his crown for lack of courage. In fear of losing the life he valued most, he escaped and survived for now.

While the war heats up as it ends, and the shedding of blood intensifies, Herod’s Roman soldiers showed the rebellious Israelites that their long-planned conspiracy to rebel against Herod and the Romans will never happen, and will never be triumphant. The fights are dying down, and hundreds of restless men are wounded, soaked with their blood from their injuries. Dimas and his men know that they are finished. If a leader loses his war in a battle, and came to point where they cannot defend themselves anymore, and help is nowhere to be found, then hope for courage withers, and then will come to think of saving one self.

For Dimas, observing this warfare is about to lose, and his quick perception and understanding is needed. He immediately pulled his bugle, a small trumpet hanging upon his waist and sounded the alarm. He guided the trumpet into his lips and blew the horn, a sign of reckoning, a signal for the final act, and the trumpet sounds, worked like wonders. For his men, and those still alive came rushing towards him as fast as lightning, and they assembled for a brief instruction while their surroundings are still combating.

—“We lost!” The angry Dimas shouted.

—“Let’s go to Samaria! To Samaria! Follow those who can follow me!” Dimas shouted again, hurriedly.

And through his sharpened knife, Dimas killed and put down anyone on his way, or any hindrance opposing him. He exited the Temple with his henchmen and left the city. The battle ended and everyone was exhausted and realized.

The inhabitants of Jerusalem are scared and shakened, they looked out their windows to watched Herod’s soldiers lined-up, marching their way, leaving the battlefield, the Court of Israel. In the midst of these speared soldiers are their captives: Judas, Mathias, and their forty henchmen, the martyrs of their land for freedom. They are walking with their bloodied faces, and their hands and foot are in chains, their clothes are mangled, and physically wounded.

Archelaus and Verutidio are leading the group, going to Jericho to show Herod, their cruel King, the astounding accomplishment, which is their captured rebels from the battle. These unfortunate prisoners are walking, bound by chains and looking dead tired. Shown in their bloodied faces are their lost hope; it is evident by the look in their eyes, that their purpose in life has now ended, that their lives here on earth are numbered. God is the only hope, but this faith is their last conviction; thus, this hope is the only powerful confidence in their hearts. In where, these wretched, unforftunate men have gone astray?

The Zion’s Temple

God bestowed the Jews a home they could call their own to build a strong church for the twelve tribes of Israel, a transportable Temple they can haul all the time while wandering around the wilderness. The Israelites did not acknowledged any King at that time, for they only know God, but Moses’ was the leader of the Israelites, a lawgiver to whom the authorship was obtained from heaven. The commandments from the Lord God and Moses’ wisdom are their sole guide they trusted and followed. The tabernacle, also known as the Tent of the Congregation was a “portable” church instructed by God to Moses from Mount Sinai to construct in the desert with the Israelites, their subsequent conquest of the promised land, and so they built a holy tabernacle like that of a King’s hut in the midst of their camp.

An instant customary transportable tabernacle for worship was made around their camp, and a decorative draperies mixed with smooth flexible leathers and a light weight woods are embellished in this temple. The four flags of the brave clans of Juda, Reuben, Ephraim, and Dan are erected on the encampment’s four corners, to defend the house of God. A garrisson or a military posts were also built by the Levites on this site to monitor and manage all their works and activities. The eight remaining clans of Israel are all satisfied, confidently secured as they sound asleep in their booths while their banner flags are boisterously flappings on top of their temporary tents. Their tarps printed with emblems “insignias” (flagship) of every tribe are soundly blown by the wind in this desert. And as we look forward at the symbol’s four flags, beginning from the first flag from the lineage of Juda is a Lion, which means courage; that of Reuben’s flag is a man signifying the King of all beasts; to Ephraim’s flag is a bull, representing Vigor; and last but not least is Dan’s flag with the image of an Eagle with a snake coiled around its one-leg, denoting the cunning intelligence of this courageous bird.

Moses is a well respected leader of the Israelites, and while they were wandering around the wilderness, they would build their camps on a site they felt was sacred to build their portable tabernacle. And whenever they’re ready to go, everyone would respond immediately in complying to Moses’ wise order, commanding them to set aside their temporary tents and the customary portable church in no time. Everyone was helping and participating in setting aside their booths, while the Levites were rushing disassembling the holy tabernacle, lifting every piece of wood, leathers and the mantle forming the wall.

Along came the happy reign of David. This young King knows that his hometown needs to become a strong city for his security to protect him against his enemies. His eyesight is like that of an eagle, nailed to the mountains of Zion, Acra, and Moriah; the same as when he stared at the frightening gigantic figure of Goliath, the giant Philistine. He was attracted by the fragmented mountains, the rocky hills of the valley of Jehoshaphat. (King David likes to look around). David also called his family without delay to offer his honor and bestow his prominence as the General Officer of his army. He was also proud to be the first to climb the fortresses, which hindered his ascent from the beginning. By the sound of the silver trumpets, the courageous warriors enraged as Juda, King David’s nephew, climbed up the fort amid the rains of arrows, but was beheaded at the end by the Israel’s sword in the town of the Jebusites.

David became the King of Jerusalem, and his reign flourish and became more prominent, which seemed to have been secretly favored by the hands of God. He was also graced with the simple elegance of his soldiers, their charm’s refinement, outstanding professionalism of ethics, and values of their skills, and for all these blessings, the King thought of building a church in honor of the Lord God. As David made plans to build the Temple, he prepared all the material things needed to erect the church, but David died before he fulfilled this task, and so the overwhelming honor of carrying out David’s proposed plan to build the Temple was earned by his son Solomon.

The mountain of Moriah was chosen to build the house of God, and after seven years, the Zion’s Temple is brilliantly shimmering like a burning incense of gold when hit by the rising sunlight from the horizon. Five hundred years rolled out of this Temple’s lofty walls when the brave soldiers of Nebuchadnezzar, the King of Babylonia attacked. They destroyed the Holy Temple of Solomon, wiped it off the map, and deported large swathes of its’ population. The Babylonians seized the Temple’s wealth, and the King of Juda, the unfortunate King Joaquim, was tied with chains around his neck as their captive and they even blinded his eyes. They carried him away along with thousands of Israelites, physically bound by force, and went to the city of Satraps where they were enslaved to worship the god Belo.

Jeremiah wept bitterly through his sorrowful and beautiful songs about the abominable slavery of his race. But because of Zerubbabel (thought to have been a Babylonian Jew), redeemed the freedom of his people and returned to Jerusalem as the leading army with the band of Jewish exiles, then became a governor afterward.

As a descendant of the house of David, Zerubbabel rebuilt the second Temple at the mountain of Moriah, it was built and situated in the same place. The Israelites desired strongly of this that they came running to attend and worship the invisible God they longed for in front of their dear shrines. But in time, the Temple’s proud doors and the strong high walls were destroyed by the raging storms and powerful winds, the changing seasons of times.

For six hundred years, this giant rock, considered the home of Zion’s God, was tossed down by the blustering storms over and over again. The appointed time came and Herod became the Great King of Jerusalem where he crowned his forehead with the taxable crown of Jerusalem in such great glory. He rebuilt the Temple, which I will follow what the historian Jewish Josephus describes in the orderliness of what’s left to our readers:

“The Temple has fifty arms lenght or equal to six feet wide and sixty feet in height. Time passes by, and this sixty feet in height has been reduced to fifty feet due to land erosion of the collapsing columns. It is truly amazing of how tough and how dashing white the stones they used in that Temple, and how big the sizes of each pillars were installed. There are four high pillars, about the size of twelve and a half feet high and six feet wide. They used all their skills in art on the architectural design, and spent a great abundance of money of the said Temple, which resembles the King’s royal palace, the most beautiful sight to see under the sun, from up above. Valuable tapestries decorated the doors, and as you enter, we can see from the top of that prominent pillars are the hanging clusters of gold, along with its twigs and branches of grapes, which are all pure gold. This Temple has ten doors; four in the great north, four in the great south, and two to the east, but a stone wall encloses the west side.”

“Each door is engraved with two leaves, and each leaf measures fifteen feet long and seven and a half feet wide. The knobs turning these wood doors are coated with gold and silver, but a red-brown metal, a copper was overlaid on only one doorknob, and this kind of copper from Corinth is more valuable than gold and silver. The Temple’s frontal side is gold plated, which glows like a burning coal when the newly broken sunlight strikes. The Temple’s interior is divided into two parts, with the incredible and a remarkable extravagant decorations, where the door’s first half is lavishly decorated with a hanging grapevine as tall as a man, and its boughs and fruits are all gold. The other door’s half to enter is a hanging curtain made in Babylon, twenty-five feet long and eight feet wide. The curtain’s color is mixed with purple, scarlet, and linen, an outstanding manifestation of its blending colors with four elements that describes each tincture: the beautiful blue is for the wind; the stunning purple is for the sea-where HE is from; the brilliant scarlet color is the fire; and the linen is for the earth-where HE grows.” With the help of wisdom, the understanding to achieve the masterpiece of this art work in that huge curtain is the fullness of Heaven, where the only missing is the so-called “twelve signs.” After going thru the halfway open door, is the Temple’s innermost center, where the so-called “Holy of Holies” is standing known as the oracle. According to the Jews beliefs, a shrine at which an ocular god is consulted through their highest Pontiff, where the prophecy is transmitted and believed to indicate future action with infallible authority.”

“The wholeTemple is surrounded with spacious and elevated sights, a parkland for leisure, which rests on solid cement. A small surface made of stone like a washbasin is located in the far east side of that venerable Temple, like a fountain made with four faces are coordinated and put together by using lead compounds. Another perspective sight to see from a particular aspect are the three floors of “architectural galleries,” a walkway to cross for convinience (Bridges), a wide walkway crossing the deep gorges connecting to a Temple of a small village, right at the great west of the city. One hundred sixty-two pillars, an imitation like its made from Corinth, with each one had twenty-seven feet in full circumference are holding the bridges, a variation of posts, three sets in a row in the galleries.”

From what we have seen, from the account of that Jewish historian, we can be sure that the Temple is a real “masterpiece,” a work of art, a beautiful creativity, intricately detailed. At the Temple’s great north, standing is the Hasmonean’s tower, rebuilt by Herod, similar to his palace, and named “Antonia” for Mark Anthony’s commemoration, who’s always defending King Herod’s side.”

“An underground passageway, or what we call now a “tunnel,” is the pathway from the Antonia Fortress through the door situated at the eastern side of the house of God. A prominent exhibition of the highest priest’s noble dress is displayed in this fort, with the two signet rings and its treasures. On the day of the Temple’s consecration, Herod, who re-built the house of worship, offered three hundred bulls to slaughter and offered to God. An eagle placed over the Temple’s main door, distracts the Israelite’s polite excitement. In an act of irreverence, the Israelites are in a state of being violated, and they are forced to accept the symbol that does not belong to God.”

Writers note:

I could have told this, with all my heart for the readers, to consider the building’s magnificence, the orders and arrangements of Jerusalem’s Temple! To honor the people’s eternal memory, for SHE hath received the Son of God in HER womb. But the purpose of this book does not allow us to hold small things, so let us rejoice for the brief description made in the said Temple.

What we don’t have is the innermost center of the Holy City’s Temple, to understand the ceremonies they did perform inside.

THE REBELLION

As I mentioned before, there are four leaders waiting for Antipater (Herod’s son), inside the cave, and now I will provide their names and guide the readers to avoid confusion. Three of them are not known to Antipater yet, but they will be known as the pages turns fast every dense foliage of this book.

One is very well known to all and will lead us to Calvary on top of Golgotha. The names of these people not yet known are identified as the followings:

Zadok, Judas, and Mathias are called “The Doctors of Law” or “Doctores de la Ley,” Roman’s great adversaries. Besides these three is the fourth person, Roman’s sworn enemy, “Dimas,” who continued living in the castle as a bandit, inspired by the Blessed Virgin’s purity, virtues, modesty, faith and love for Her child.

Zadok the Essenes, although he is an older man, with his gray hair from being diligent in studying and contemplation, he is famous and well-known to town’s people as a “Diviner.” His father is the one who predicted Herod as a boy that he would be the future King of Jerusalem, a prediction made in advance, that happened. For this reason, prophesying in Zadok’s family had passed from generation to generation, until they all became “The Diviner.”

Josephus affirmed that Herod embraces the Essenes, favoring them in every ways. Josephus’s explanation relating to this story was extraordinary and strange, which will perhaps please the readers. One Essenes name “Menahem” was the one who saw Herod as a young student in school with his fellow students, of the same age, had afterward approached the young Herod and prophesied to him that someday he would be the King of the Jews. This young student was doubtful and hesitant to believe Menahem, but tapping the young student’s shoulder (Herod), he repeated to him the prophecy he had spoken, and he even taught him the responsibilities of the noble King. He also revealed to Herod the blasphemous lawlessness and God-dishonoring record he would inflict before God, and his cruelty to men that will deprave his honor for greatness defiling him as the Great King.

Time went by, and Herod became “The King.” He remembered the Essenes’ prophecy to him when he was a young boy, so he made an urgent call to sent Menahem to him immediately who is now an older man, asking him if he would be the King of Jerusalem for only ten years?

—“You will be King for twenty to thirty years!” Menahem replied.

For saying this, the new King of the Jews (Herod), made Menahem famous as his “Diviner,” sending him home with showers of many honors, for ever since then, Herod had taken the sides, of the Essenes’ people favoring Menahem’s descendants. Zadok was Menahem’s son, and after Menahem’s death his prestigious status, as well as his prominence was transmitted to Zadok.

But as for Judas and Mathias, they have great authority over their disciples. Dimas, as we know it, had his people under his control. Through his brothers’ faithful trust in him, Dimas gained their respect and confidence because of his great courage.

Now that we know the people inside the cave, I will continue the story’s futile interruption. Zadok was the oldest of all; and so, he was the first to speak.

—“Young man,” Zadok said. —“You who came from the Holy City, please tell us what is going on there.”

—“Jerusalem,” replied Antipater, —“is mourning just like of the past. The young daughters of Jerusalem had destroyed their Psaltery and hung their harps on the Palm trees’ branches. (Lamenting).

—“As long as the wings of the Golden Eagle spreads over the Roman Temple, the house of their wicked gods, the people of Jerusalem are forever mourning.” Mathias said.

—“Destroy the Eagle and annihilate the wicked oppressors.” The third of Dimas.

—“Do not forget that the people of Israel are afraid of Caesar’s militaries.” Zadok recalls.

—“But you must also know that the taxpayer King, my father is on the brink of death.” Antipater replied. “And must be replaced immediately by someone, as soon as he died instantly, for I also know how to keep Moses’ Commandments and respect Jehovah’s Temple where the invisible and true God is living. If an honest and good King, the one holding the scepter of Juda, will reign, then Jacob’s offspring, those bountiful times of Joshua, David, and Solomon, can be restored. I came here to offer you my blood on behalf of my followers to your words of counsel. Tell me, therefore, am I received here as a friend?”

—“Think through and be considerate young man, that your father will be the first one to be beheaded, when Israel drawn its weapons for the uprising.” Zadok’s powerful voice.

—“My father,” replied Antipater, —“had already died by the time of the uprising; but let us assume that he is still alive on the day of the rebellion; I cannot have a heart for the man; he killed my mother, and didn’t he kill my brothers also? Am I not now persecuted to the point of cutting my life before my time? Therefore, we must cease Jerusalem’s continuous crying of blood for justice and screaming out loud for vengeance. Let extreme anger speak, in facing the revolution in the middle of the battle rage, reverting the eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth dilemma that we are now in, like the wise Moses explained.”

—“My brothers, are you accepting this young man’s fellowship?” Zadok asked after a few moments of contemplating.

—“He should swear first to the laws of Israel.” Mathias replied.

—“Surely, he in turn, should swear first,” agreed by Dimas and Judas.

—“Swear,” the Essenes whisper.

Then Zadok stood up and slowly walked, heading to the cave’s corner before returning immediately with the letter of the law already at hand. The parchment is not a book; they were two pieces of wood, long and round. Then Zadok sat down again among his companions, and Mathias took down the lampstand to illuminate the older man’s shining forehead very well.

Before the Essenes handed over the two pieces of round woods to Mathias, he held the bottom holders first, and raised this parchment above his head, before carefully handling it to Mathias. Mathias, then held it to his hands with appreciation and admiration before turning the round woods gently, gradually scrolling outward the half side of that pergamena leather. Slowly emerging is the Israel laws, “Moses’ Commandments,” written on that parchment. While the first half was smoothly scrolling out in front of Mathias’ eyes, his other hand is still holding in the other half of the parchment. This work is quietly and softly imposed by Mathias so that he can read the meaningful scriptures of God, a body of writings considered sacred and authoritative.

But before Mathias had spoken, Zadok announced the following words first:

—“This!” Zadok said, —“are the Hebrews basic laws, they were gathered together in ten chapters of Our Lord God, which in turn was written on two boards by the Prophet Moses. Chapters intended and assigned to each fingers, to embed it in your mind and put it in writing for you to seal it in your heart.”

Mathias started to read the Commandments full of confidence. “The Wise Giver gave these Commandments in full wisdom to spread and make known to all, which came from Sinai and have been written in Exodus and Leviticus books.” Antipater’s head is lowered and earnestly answering “Amen” whenever a segment ends.

The reading of the Hebrew Law was at the last portion of its fullness, and Zadok was silent. Then he quietly stood up and approached Mathias, to gently take the parchment from Mathias and slowly turned to close that one piece of wood at the same time. Judas and Dimas were silent like two vertical pillars of stones, as they only moved their lips gently to answer “May the Lord grant mercy,” until finally, the final reverberation of Antipater’s word “Amen” echoed inside the cave.

The ceremony lasted for an hour, and finally, the turning and tilting of the round wood stopped right across Zadok’s eyes; the reading of “Moses’ Law” was completed and ended. Then Antipater, after laying his one hand on top of that parchment of law, brought to him by the older man Zadok, his other hand lay over his heart, and he swore never to fail the law as long as he live to that “Ten Commandments” written by God. The four Israelites also stood and laid their hands on top of the Prince’s head Antipater, “the new man,” and said this:

—“You are now our brother, your flesh is our flesh, and everything that’s ours is yours now also. And your blood from this day forward will be respected and loved like the blood running in our veins.”

—“For as soon as I fail the expected commandments of my God, may I be stoned like those who curse God, may the dogs feasts on my flesh, may my eyes lose the light of my sight, may my ears be deaf, and my tongue falters in speech,” Antipater’s whisper. —“Amen,” are the four men’s reciprocal’s responses.

When it was over, silence had passed, and those five rebels prayed softly. They are binding their bonds of brotherhood, a ceremony of fellowship, or an alliance which they performed for the liberation and sake of their people.

—“Now,” the Essenes’ word, —“each had to announce to his brethren their roles to perform, what are each tasks for the coming day of the rebellion.” Then he confronted Antipater before continuing to speak. “You speak first, for thou art the youngest of all.”

—“I promise with my pocket filled with gold coins, and through my honor, that without the help of this money, and as a Prince, I will not be able to gather some slaves on the banks of the river Jordan. With in my words, they would not hesitate to risk their lives for the liberation and salvation of the Hebrew people.” Antipater said.

—“I,” Dimas said, —“will be in a location I am assigned, with tens of my formidable fellow Samaritans, ready to die in one command.”

—“As for me,” Mathias responded, —“I offer to you my forty disciples that I trained in Jerusalem. They are young and daring, they will obey my every command in times of danger; their God and desires to be saved from slavery drive them to war, that with their restrained hand while holding their weapons, bring smiles on their lips and faith in their hearts.”

—“I in turn, offer my disciples like Mathias. For me, tens of my people would be held accountable for their bravery, and determination. Their love for their country is just.” Judas words.

—“I will be the one to inflame the emotional state of the people of Jerusalem,” Zadok’s loud response, —“and if this poor old man could do nothing, will his blood be shed for the sake of his God and his people.”

The only thing missing in this plan is the appointed day, the time, and place. Not to mention the venue, where the first cry of rebellion for freedom should start.

—“Because you are the oldest and most experienced, it is you who should manage the movements.” Dimas’s suggestion.

—“Let me tell you, my dear brothers,” Antipater’s soft proclamation, —“my father’s illness, is a great help in our plans, so we must take advantage of this opportunity.”

—“Within five days, the celebration of the feast called “La Fiesta de la Purim” will take place.” Zadok said. —“Thousands of Israelites from everywhere are expected to attend, to worship their gods in the courtyards and the Holy Temples. In this kind of Hebrew celebration, foreigners are allowed and admitted to entering Jerusalem freely. Every time they celebrated this feast, the Herodians and the Roman soldiers slept soundly, always trusting their confidence in full faith for a peaceful festivity. And on this very day, our people swarming the streets, with their weapons hidden in their wrinkled cloaks, mingling with the thick crowd, will be hard to recognize. Herod’s staff will have a hard time identifying them. Wouldn’t it be nice if we carried out our plan on that day of “Fiesta de la Suertes” the finality to carry out our proposal’s execution?”

The four leaders in front of Zadok had just nodded in agreement with what the older man suggested.

—“If that is so,” Zadok said. —“on the day of the “Feast of Purim,” since you all agree with my suggestion, let’s choose the time and the signal for our people to start the loud outcry of rebellion for freedom.” That on this “Feast of Purim,” when the High Priest starts to read the “Book of Esther,” in the chapter saying: “So Aman caught on the gallows he erected for Mardochai, and this dissipated the King’s wrath.” During this time, Mathias and Judas’s disciples should start destroying the Golden Eagle standing at the Temple’s door, which defiled the House of God, for in this, will be taken as the signal to begin the battle’s outcry.”

—“When the Golden Eagle fell down the ground from the Temple’s door, my soldiers will immediately draw their weapons, and they will do this for our country and the people’s sake, in regard of their freedom.” Dimas’s speech was filled with vigor energy.

—“So is my promise.” Antipater said.

—“We,” Mathias and Judas said, —“is ahead with our disciples, and we promise that we will take down their emblem of obscenity, the Golden Eagle, which disrupts the peaceful sleep of Jacob’s descendants.”

—“Now the Lion can sharpen its piercing nails in Juda as in previous times and the moral standard of the Maccabees will be re-stabilized, let the blowing wind of salvation blasts over Israel’s town where their honor were down degraded by their King, Herod.” The five men’s oath.

When the second oath was over, the five rebels left the cave where their meeting took place. The sun had risen, and a new day started; the five leaders had begun descending that hilly valley and shady mountains. They all came to the ravine’s edge, and here they stopped. The group had to disperse in that place.

—“May God be with you.” As the five men hug and bid their farewells, waving goodbye to each other.

—“May the coming “Fiesta de la Purim’s” celebration passes gloriously to the Jews, like what happened to the Jews in Esther’s time.” Zadok’s strong regard.

Dimas then swiftly traced the road down, and in an instant, he was gone. This bandit has gone to Samaria.

While Antipater rode his fast horse, tracking the road to “Via Sangrienta,” and went to Jericho. The three “Doctors of Law” or “Doctores de la Ley,” crept silently and unnoticeably to the City of Jerusalem.

THE GOLDEN EAGLE

Esther: Chapter 8: 6-7

“For can I bear or endure my people’s destruction?”

And King Assuerus answered to Queen Esther and Mardochai the Jew:

“Give Aman’s house to Esther and I commanded her to nail it to a gibbet or gallows for he dared lay hands on the Jews!”

DOUAY RHEIMS BIBLE:

“For can I endure the murdering and slaughter of my people?”

And King Assuerus answered Esther, the Queen, and Mardochai, the Jew:

“I have given Aman’s house to Esther, and I have commanded him to be hanged on a gibbet because he durst lay hands on the Jews.”

THE BLOODY WAYS or “VIA SANGRIENTA”

Herod arrived in Callirhoe. But bathing in the healing water, the spring, which was well-known at the time had only worsen or exacerbated Herod’s illness, and this only made Herod more furious to his physicians.

At this King’s one command, had all his physicians called from Palestine, to come forth in the company of this noble sick, and this causes the knowledgeable physicians to more debating and arguing while Herod’s condition continues to worsen. His whole body continues to deteriorates until they all finally agreed for the oil bath, which was fragrant, to help treat his body scent. The agreeable discussion made the slaves in unison to take their master from bed to the oil bath, but just as they barely dipped him in this fragrant oil, the cruel King, the Israel’s executioner suddenly fainted. All were stunned! Those around him thought that the King’s last hour had come, and they all shouted and wept bitterly. The relatives and the doctors are all panicking, they immediately attended Herod’s body who was already looking like a corpse.

They instantaneously wrapped him in a scented linen and moved him to his bed. Through the enormous effectiveness of Herod’s servants caressing his body, pouncing him and rubbing him all over, and having him smell the medicine, they’d able to resuscitate him. The sick opened his eyes and let out a loud hoarse, catching for his breathe, pulling up a deep sigh. His blackened lips are moving, trembling, and seeming to want to speak, but his insistence is in vain; not a word came out his mouth. Finally after an hour of struggling for the words submerging down his throat, he gradually managed for the words to come out. Stuttering, Herod’s stammering tongue can now utter some words, and his weakened voice said the following:

—“I am……………….hungry……………………..very hungry! Please give me a little something to eat, or I will die………………………..”

Salome, Herod’s sister, looked at the physicians, and in a single glance had her eyes asking for hope; but the physicians only shakes their heads for they all lost hope, they cannot save the sick’s life. Besides from this, they are all afraid to disobey the command of an unreasonable King, a cruel King that can easily command to behead them before him. All the physicians gave their last words to please Herod and give him all the food he loves to eat.

So the servants prepared the meal that Herod loves to eat. They sat their King down to his bed and served him so much food to eat. Herod stormed the dishes like a beast, eating in haste, getting more excited as he relieves his violent hunger, and still asks for more. In just a matter of a short time, the King had finally finished eating; the wine and dishes are all cluttered down the King’s bed, strewn out and scattered all over his blanket, but this wicked King being punished by the great justice is very valuable to his slaves until the very end.

Herod crouched down to his messy bed, too drunk and highly intoxicated, but as he regained his strength, he started to shout again, commanding and demanding that he be transferred to his palace in Jericho. Everyone was afraid to disobey him, so the physicians carried out his command and take him back to Jericho immediately.

The travel was very difficult for this King, but he finally arrived in Jericho in a terrible condition. Shouting is the only time he would dare to open up his mouth, cursing God or asking for food and water are engrossed to his fast mouth, and his monstrance only worsen his situation; the tips of his fingers had swollen; his skin was pale like in corpse color, and he was unable to move without the help of his slaves. From his lumps and wounds, from out of his face and the other parts of his body are thousands of worms coming out; his tormenting breathing and stinking breath indicates that his body is rotting, attesting that his cancer had consumed his body organs. The physicians are giving their courage through Salome’s supplications to not loose hope, and gave the advice, the promise to combat in fighting the disease, knowing that it is hopeless.

Everyone was forbidden to enter the King’s chamber; no one could give him anything, even if he asked for something that he wants, but the eventual order of the physicians are exceptional. The continuous information about Herod had ceased and no recent information was being released about him. “Herod is already dead,” was the full notion of his slaves. This news spreads like a rapid flames, it was transmitted like a wildfire throughout Judea, but it was rejoiced and celebrated whenever and wherever the people heard it.

But let us leave Herod for a moment under the supervision of his physicians, and let us turn our eyes to this horseman, treading the winding road, swiftly running through the rocky path in the mountainous hilly road of Judea. The path that is very dark and frightening, it implies the feeling of distress and sorrow. This sceneries can give you the significance of being spooky. Deep ravines, sharp rocks that can pose a significant danger for the travelers passing this creepy road with those deep dark caves all over, can generate nefarious feelings. A desiccated mountain, contoured and shaped by the strong earthquakes from the past, is now became the fortress of the wild beasts and the Arab bandits, the only dangers that the travelers could be concerned of, roughly. The place where it seemed to be deliberately created and put in order by nature to be theatrical for the bloody massacres of the murderers, the criminals and their machete’s, does give the name to this road as “Via Sangrienta,” or the “Bloody Ways.” Those lonesome and obscure paths, known for blood shedding, it’s dense woods and dark deep ravines can make a heart feel the painful beatings, causing the heart to pound hard, and the only thing that a traveler could think of is nothing but, God and death.

In this night that we are presenting now is the night with the moon in its fullness; with its dense clouds spreads in the sky, blanketing the horse rider’s bright shiny forehead, was left alone treading this dusky path on earth, to dwell alone on this dark and winding road. The nightrider seemed accustomed on the path he was traversing while his dependable horse can be fully trusted. He is not even holding the horse’s bridle, blown by the wind, coiling around his strong neck, the nape. Occasionally, that heap of clouds brakes out, and gushed forth from heaven were rays of extraordinary lights dominating the black night like the Night Queen. The Night Queen that shines her silvery radiance, shining her cold glistening lights for travelers tracing the dark land and meandering roads.

The lone rider of the night had to put on this white supple cape over his head covering his face, flowing over the rough wind, like flying from riding his horse. As if he was afraid to be recognized by those isolated trees in the woods leaning on the roadside and those mountainous rocks with its slopes, inclined its surfaces on the curb sides.

The fast running horse that night, was unaware of his master’s troubled heart, and the horse had been able to trail those deserted roads without his master’s further guidance. The horse continued on his steady speed, continually galloping, striding in the middle of the night without fear and doubt. The horse rider was traveling for two hours now, and the faithful beast made it obvious to his master that he was gradually getting tired by gasping for air through his intense breathing. But the horse’s master is the same, he was getting tired too, and his forced fast breathing made him accumulate a fast heartbeat, generating a bubbling sweat, drenching down his chest’s thin skin. But without hesitation, he looked around and looked more to his surroundings, distinguishing the area’s familiarity, recognizing that he was already at his destination. He held the Horse’s harness and firmly pulled it abruptly; the horse made a sudden stopped. Then the nightrider pressed once again the harness towards the horse’s buttocks in full force and found himself on the side of a luxuriant tree, where at his feet was a path leading to a steep overhanging cliff, he was at the brink of a dangerous situation. In jeopardy of his life.

—“This is probably it,” the rider’s words to himself.

Then he disembarks from his horse and binds the harness to his right arm. He began to descend into that deep ravine, followed by his horse. In this form where the Lord and his horse continued to descend, by walking with five hundred more steps, and as they get deeper, they both stopped. They found themselves in a position where they think is not worth visiting the place in that middle of the night, twelve midnight. They are in a bottomless cliff, in the middle of those thick “Poplar” and “Hawthorne” trees that grows specifically between the mountainous rocky fissures.

A horse-shaped mountain was obstructing their path, a two rising mountains surrounding it at the other end of the cliff, are like two big arms gripping in that rocky, hilly ravine. The “Palm Trees,” the “Thorn Bushes,” and the “White Retama Mastic” are all standing on the high valleys of that arch-shaped mountain hindering their pathways to their destination. It was truly a very dangerous path.

This unfruitful land without its grace has always been illuminated by the blazing sun, shining its golden light to it’s splendid land since the world’s creation. Where there’s nothing good to see but desolation, or any fertile tree to grow that can produce shades for the travelers, or at least cool down the air by the motion of its branches, but only dried, unfertile land and dead trees are seen, a lonesome secluded place, a cursed corner indeed. It is very seldom for a man to set his foot in this dreadful place.

After the mysterious rider tied his horse to a rough branch of a Hawthorne tree, he remained quiet as if he were carefully outlining and analyzing the place where he was standing. Believed that this was the place he was looking, he started to climb, clinging, clambering over the rocks, ascending the high hills, and as he reached the top, was a partition of the said gorge in front of him.

He continued to climb the said gorge, and he survived gloriously the first fifty steps, but he was eventually compelled to use his hands not to fall. He would occasionally stop his difficult climb to rest a little. The sweat dripping down his forehead was like grains of corn, and there were a few drops of blood drizzling down his hands white skin from the sharp rocks of this mysterious jockey, but not a sigh nor groan of weariness escaped his lips; not even a complaint of pain when he gets caught to sharp stones and thorny ravines.

We can say that a person who walks at such time of the night, risking his life with such a dangerous consequences has a big disposition in his heart, a kind person, determined to reach and accomplish his goal without hesitation, no matter how great the obstacles hinders his path. However, in one of those brief moments, when those translucent clouds covering the moon slowly moves away, clearing the moon’s bright silvery light, freely shining its beaming glows on that dark land was the glimpse of the physic of this night traveler. A young man with his tender, sweet countenance was seen, with his soft gaze, almost like a child without his beard yet is like virginal, and with his white skin blushing pure, is akin to a Zion’s Temple.

His dangerous ascent, as he gets higher was getting closer to the top, he was halfway the mountain when he suddenly stopped climbing for what he saw. An uprooted tree trunk, lying down to that desolate and wasted rocky cliff, like he found a relief to his desperate situation, and the next thing he did was grabbed that tree. As he was hanging, dangling on that tree, he looked down to check his position, and he saw that he was way up high, holding that tree hanging on a highest cliff, while testing the tree of how durable it was to its interconnection. And for the last time he started surmising the place where he was located, then, in one split decision he pulled himself up to safety in full strength, going over the cliff, surpassing the greater danger, surviving the risk, considering that this is an indication for his chance to live the second time. As he finally sets for safety, he sat on a rock and pulled out a small brass cylinder from his wrinkled clothes, then pressed it to his mouth and played a Hebrew song commonly heard at that time. This song was played especially at the festivals and public gatherings in the villages of the Azymite (Ancient Greek “Azymos,” a festival celebration of unleavened bread).

He was playing his cylinder when he felt something unusual, then a vague rustling sounds of leaves near him, he came to a halt and sat still. Suddenly, a bird singing, a nightingale, he listened to it for a while, then he heard a whisper, a faint voice calling, as if the ground was alive, the earth is calling. Stunned and alarmed he abruptly stood up and surmised the surroundings area near him, searching for that fainted voice. A shadowy figure from the corner of his eyes moved quickly in the woods like the wind had blown swiftly in haste, this got his attention. He turned his head as quickly as the wind rushes to catch the glimpse of that shadowy figure. This mysterious nightrider, a small man like a jockey, was alerted; he immediately got hold of his dagger’s handle hanging from his waist for protection, for he was very cautious.

—“The eagle has its wings,” the word of that shadowy figure to the jockey.

—“And Abraham has his spears!” The jockey’s response, or perhaps their signal words between the two of them.

—“Israel wants to live,” the shadow figure once again replied.

—“For the sick person had taken away his life,” the gentle jockey replied.

—“Help me!” The shadowy person replied once more.

—“Get started!” The gentle jockey replied.

The shadowy man waiting there ahead of time came out and walked a few steps; with his head bent down, he knelt to the ground and lifted the big rock the jockey was sitting on. And the jockey’s strong arms helped lift the stone slowly, then a cave door gave way, elevated as if some forces pushed it up, and gradually opened up the cave entrance in front of them.

—“Come in,” said the man, —“for you are the only one missing, we’re all waiting.”

The young gentleman entered quietly into the cave entrance that boisterously opened up right across their foot, and without hesitation, went into that deep ravine. Still, the cave’s darkness overwhelmed him, and he had difficulty stepping in. But of a sudden, a hand appeared from out of the darkness and roused him from his deep apprehension to enter the deep dark cave. The gentle jockey could not conceal his fear with his trembling body when this mysterious hand took him by surprise by grabbing his arm, the hand that took a firm hold of his arm, held it with assurance that he is in good hands, leading him through the winding dark paths.

—“Are you afraid?” The voice asked him.

—“Bah!” The gentleman’s word. —“To be surprised is not because I am with a stranger, but because of the unknown. Grabbing me by surprise startled me; I thought a snake bit me. An ants that landed on the Lion’s eyelash could get rattled too.”

—“Such a good person,” the voice said. —“I thought I frightened you.”

—“As time goes by, I will also get accustomed to this uncertain darkness; you will see.” The gentle jockey replied.

—“Rough people live in this cave,” the lead said.

—“Rudeness is far from boldness!” The gentleman replied. —“Guide me and don’t say a word no more; just do your job.”

The not visible person never spoke a word again but continued walking, leading the gentleman, moving along on foot; their roaming lasted for fifteen minutes. They finally stopped to another entryway; the mysterious guide pushed the sharpest edge of a big rock that immediately turned around like a rotating axle.

—“Come in,” his words to the gentleman.

The gentle jockey entered the spacious cave lit by a large metal lamp with three burners. A hoe, usually used by humans as a helping tool, was no help this time for the cave’s excavation, but help for the rotating entrance. The cave had such a high column, an arch structure of a concrete stone, a vast cavernous cave, a dark deep cave commonly found in the mountain of Israel, and not only once was it used for refuge for the Hebrew’s town chaos, from the bandits turmoil against the free people. The refuge for the free people, meaning the Apostles of the New law, or the New Order, and in these last days will be the refuge of the emigrants Christians.

As the said gentleman entered that spacious cave, he suddenly stopped; for it was so dark and can’t see nothing at first, but little by little his eyes are getting accustomed, and finally he could see through. His eyes could now penetrate that hollowed, deep dark cavern, looking throughout the vicinity where no light could possibly get through. His eyes are wide open, forcing to see those voices whispering; he catch a glimpse of a large numbers of figures, a crowd of people sitting down on the ground speaking softly.

The newcomer took a few more steps, then, of a sudden, the whispers stopped. Everybody was in a subtle silence, the air was cold and felt velvety. Then, one in the crowd had turned his head towards the newcomer and said:

—“That’s him!”

And they all stood up.

—“Leaders of Israel, I apologized for my delay,” the newcomer said, and he bowed his head.

—“A persecuted person like me by Herod’s dogs cannot give an assurance for a definitive time, but only a chance of opportunity.” The gentle jockey explained.

—“We are aware of those dangers encircling you, and we made the allowances for you. We pardon your delay for quite sometimes now, and we excuse you wholeheartedly.” The expression of one in the cave.

—“Thank you so much to all,” the gentleman replied.

—“May the Hebrew people acknowledge you and express their gratitude to you one day,” response by one in the cave.

—“My Hebrew people’s happiness is also my happiness, especially when I get to lead them.”

—“Sit down with us,” said the respondent.

—“We welcome you like one of our brother who came down here on purpose to offer his blood and gain the freedom of his people.” Said one more in the cave.

My warmhearted readers, could have perhaps recognized who this gentleman is, which is none other than Antipater! The escapees son of Herod!

The young fugitive Prince, Antipater already knew and was aware that his father had put a price on his head. This made the young Prince to struggle to flee, and impossible to survive the threats. Herod had sought all his persecutors, the rebels and his hostile enemies in all Juda’s caves. And these are the mysterious groups Antipater had joined.

For Antipater is the King’s son in Jerusalem, he is also desiring a crown and would do anything over his father’s dead body, if it is the way to accomplish the success of his desires. Antipater, the young Prince is Herod’s son and so therefore, he carries his father’s blood of cruelty and immorality thereof. But let us change the story‘s narrative to continue the story’s fate.

To all my beloved and intelligent readers:

“Know that I am writing history. Please understand that this is the past. I am giving here the most accurate and crucial information of Jesus’s time, of the factual history and the reality of life back then. I am narrating the actual events without malice and prejudice to everyone; I am representing here the pleasant and unpleasant stories that happened. All Jesus’s followers in this end times are Jewish, including me, I am a Jewish girl myself, and I intend to stay Jewish.

I am trying to make the stories more acceptable and civilized, but it is impossible, knowing that “we all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” This is the reason why God came down from heaven, to give hope to humanity.

In this episode is Zechariah’s history, of how he was killed, who killed him and why he was killed? Nowhere you can find this information except here.

Most of the shocking events in history of Jesus’s time are kept hidden from the public until now, because of the horrific vulgarities. Please prepare yourselves to be in a sudden state of amazement; I cannot change the Bible. Understand my situation, and I beg my readers to be more considerate, for there is no personal attack here.

In this end times, races and colors are slowly diminishing. No more racism, some would want to return the past back, but they will be unsuccessful. The world is changing. But we will be held accountable and judge according to our own action.

I am a little delayed writing, but this should be done. Please have patience, thank you.”

LET’S START!

THE SACRILEGE

The King was left alone, lying deflated to his bed. His lampshade at the table next to him is emitting its gloomy light, reflecting his pale-colored face, like a corpse color of an ill person. Although his bed is ivory and his bedspreads are from Egypt, the huge custom-made pillows from Damascus are beautiful to see but unfit and not agreeable to a sick King. Herod’s somber demeanor is like a sickening. The creepy old King, grisly and extremely unpleasant, is gut churning in sight. Repentance when nearing death is engraved like a terrible stain on a criminal’s face, and he is showing this in display.

Cingo, who remained hidden behind the enormous, extensive curtain, slowly emerged, seeing that his Lord was left alone. The slave gently advanced, slowly walking inside, tip-toeing his foot, heading to sick Herod on his bed, careful not to make any noise that could disturb and startle the peaceful sleep of his King. Herod’s eyes are closed at this time: not moving like a corpse.

The treacherous negro, a pitiless criminal, an executioner, where he must kill all, and it doesn’t matter how many his Lord would point out to him, he knows that he will obey, that at this time, is witnessing the agonizing sight of his King. The pitiful appearance of his Lord in front of him, lying in his bed, made his tears trickled down his eyes down to his cheeks; a long raucous cry filled his face, with his thick lips quivering. This enslaved person is worshipping his Lord, yet the only lacking was to exalt Herod like a god in Zion’s altar, because for Cingo, Herod is his world.

The ill King felt a presence beside him, and so he slowly opened up his eyes and saw the darkened gloomy look of his slave standing next to him.

—“Ah! Is that you, my faithful Cingo?” Herod greeted him in a severely weakened voice, gasping for some air as he spoke. —“Don’t you know what’s going on? The doctors are now skeptical; hopeless of my situation, they all left me here, probably waiting for me to die. But they will be sorry! My last breath will be their conviction, determining their death.”

—“My Lord.” Cingo said. —“If healing and life is transferable like wealth, you will not die.”

—“And why>”

—“For I would give you my life and my health, so you would not die.” Cingo said.

—“I know Cingo, I realized that……..you are very good to me; I will not forget you in my death bed, for I know it won’t be long.”……………………..

—“Just live, and don’t worry about some things; your life is a thousand more than my wealth and my freedom.”

—“Oh! Cingo, you are not my slave; you are my best friend, a faithful trustee.”

—“My Lord.” Cingo said.

—“When I recover to this disgusting illness, I will elect you to be my General, my Military forces’ General, I will grant you your complete freedom, I will build you a palace in Jerusalem and one in Jericho.” Herod’s gentle words.

—“Let me be your slave. I have no desire in life but to serve you, even though I have the unsuccessful night to fulfill your orders.”

—“I cannot understand you.” Herod said.

—“Isabel, Zechariah’s wife, escaped her house with her oldest son John.” The negro explained.

—“And where did it go?” Herod asked, struggling to get up and sit down. This news excites him like it made him feel good from his severe illness, like a flash of lightning, it made him feel strong and enthusiastic; it thrills him.

—“I don’t know where’d they went.” Cingo replied.

—“Ah!”

—“But I have one more way to find of her whereabouts.”

—“Talk!”

—“Zechariah is a priest.” Cingo said.

—“I know that. Continue speaking.”

—“He’s guarding the temple this week.”

—“Here in the city?” The King asked.

—“Yes! in Jerusalem.”

—“And what are you thinking?”

—“That the father might show us where his child is hiding.”

—“He will deny. He will not tell; the Israelites are truly stubborn.” Herod replied while shaking his head.

—“If that is so………………………………”

Then Cingo moved his one hand and reached out for his sharpened dagger. He repeatedly caresses his blade, stroking it with pressure.

—“True Cingo. Those people, that won’t stop dreaming, having their illusions, those Aaron’s descendants, that for some reason are desiring to inherit Jerusalem’s throne, to be a King. They should learn how to take chances and gamble everything, for death is the only way to conquer enemies, and death is the only solution for the enemies who are unwilling to accept their defeat and refuse to surrender.”

—“Kill Cingo, kill if it needs to!”

The night was long and painful for the sick King, but the next morning was all busy; everyone was alive, moving, and preparing for the long journey. Herod’s hired people are all gathered at the courtyard performing their cheerful salutation for the sick King’s voyage. They are called the “Herodians,” the poor and lowly people desiring Herod to be their heavenly King, and crown him like a true god, at the holy temple’s altar. They are cheering loud, shouting their repeated words: “long live the King,” with regards and respect in their outward behavior, while Herod is barely coming out, slightly peering out at the public square, going to Callirhoe to bathe.

Herod is not a coward, but he is bearing an overwhelming fear in the last days of his life. As if he was afraid of these two dark spirits he is seeing, similar to a ghost appearing to him like an illusion, or perhaps his imagination. The first spirit is a battling spirit, urging him to be a prisoner of his own rage, inflamed with a desire to provoke everyone and everything around him. The second spirit is his wrathful anger towards these two children, John and Jesus. The exasperating jealousy that turned him into a beast, for the Israelites had shown Herod their jubilation, towards these two children, their amicable elation, in hoping that these two would save the twelve tribes of Israel in the near future. These two spirits are eating him from his self, nibbling him like worms from within, and would not put him to sleep—-a vengeful sensation seeking to harm who gets in his way, or whoever finds them not agreeing to him from out of his uncontrollable madness.

Before leaving the Holy land, he made sure to show his armies his kindness. His generosity in giving money, especially to his trustworthy servants faithfully serving his monarchy; he gave fifty (dar cima) to each of his soldiers, a maximum amount of money, a cash fulfilling the desired amount they had wished for. Two hundred (dar cima) to each of his captains, not including the large amount of money distributed to his friends. In this manner, he could travel calmly and with peace of mind, assuring his soldiers would not betray him.

Finally, the time comes and Herod is seen leaving the Holy City, he was followed by his dazzling companions, including some of his relatives and his four old physicians.

Cingo was left alone in Jerusalem planning a gruesome murder, determined to pour out blood on the ground. An innocent blood that would disrespect and disgrace God’s house. Zechariah, the holy priest, the Baptist’s father, the brilliant educator of the beloved Virgin Mary, was already sentenced to death. Cingo, Zechariah’s executioner, was not even terrified or even thinking to withdraw, from the deadly grim rising in his mind. They are fearless and decided to take action for the horrid sacrilege, to carry out the carnage they are about to accomplish. To commit a crime in the temple, a shocking action, a blasphemy in front of the Holy altar!

Cingo, and his four lowly companions appeared in Zion’s Temple, surprising everyone attending the services. These executioners are holding the killer knives in their right hands. While the old priest, performing his beloved duty that night, celebrating in worshipping God for adoration in the courtyard, inside the house of God are in their supreme meditation, when the killers entered the square. Cingo, without a second thought, approached the old priest and asked Zechariah, “where is your son?”

Zechariah, unaware of what is happening, replied politely, and in his gentle words, he says that he is not in his house and doesn’t know where his child’s whereabouts are. Zechariah’s answer is mixed with jest, a joking remarks, and gave no importance for the seriousness of the situation, but he answered with his whole truth, without pretense. Still, the executioners had taken this as a lie, thinking that Zechariah is refusing them to provide the correct information, with mockery, an insult to their quick-wits. A loud thumped was heard in the Temple, the old priest’s sudden fell on the ground, bathed with his innocent blood at the foot of his executioners, are surprising and not expected by several people attending the services. They were shocked and startled for witnessing the cruel killings of their priest, and they all escaped, they are frightened and blown away, they can’t even describe this monstrous work. Words can’t express this abominable scenario, and they can’t even give a name to describe the indescribable, for they had never seen this kind of deranged work inside the house of God. The news spread like a wildfire, fast as the lightning rod, flashing in the sky.

Few businesses had closed their doors, and concealed themselves inside the nooks of their houses. Soft arguments are heard, disputing and debating are in whispers. Their ghastly eyes are wide open, showing their fearful spirits, rattled from the experience they had witnessed. The Roman soldiers are immediately deployed, and scattered all over the city. Some brave young men are showing their seething angers towards the Roman soldiers for the shedding of blood of their holy priest, a crime committed inside God’s temple. The brave children of the Israelites are fearful and shaken, but the extreme anger for vengeance are shown all over the city. They felt insulted for the offense, they are deeply upset and angry for the provocation.

Thirty years had passed by, and this known, infamous killing of Zechariah, mixed with blasphemies and arrogance is immoral in reasoning. The corrupt, unethical killings gave way for the Martyrs of Golgotha to speak these words:

(For those who are involved for cutting life)

“You are accountable and responsible for any innocent blood poured on the ground. From Abel’s blood to Zechariah’s blood, who were slain, are robbed of their lives. Zechariah, who was killed between the altar and the temple’s altar, the gruesome death that perfected and gave compliment are found to be valuable and meaningful. The consecrated blood of Zechariah, trickled down the ground at the strike of a sword into that white marble floor in God’s house, turned out to be one of the most crucial single bead of pearl, praising the dreadful fate of the martyrs in Bethlehem. Not long after Zechariah’s death had passed, was the most unforgettable event of “The God’s” bloodshed, poured down to that hillside valley of Calvary called, “Golgotha.”

Luke 11:45

“From the blood of Abel unto the blood of Zechariah, who was slain between the altar and the Temple. Yea, I say to you; It shall be required of this generation.”

THE FIRST SIGN OF DEATH

Cingo is a man with a clear mind. He is always alert. His quick wit in understanding to carry out plans are fast, his expertise in managing the appointed tasks is very clever, his authorization in handling the situation with his supervision placed over his shoulder by his Lord, is outstanding and of high quality. His ingenious instinct to any proposals or any attempt to execute every heavy responsibilities entrusted to him is easy for him to figure out.

The man of skillfulness and cleverness arrived at Herod’s palace that night, straight down to the lower level of the dungeon; it was dark. He passes from room to room as he walked. This place was created for slaves as their homes, their residences where they lived. Then Cingo stopped at one of the room, where the most notorious, and strong slaves are kept, he selected four men he trusted the most. Everyone in that dungeon was quiet and curious, looking for the unusual event that is happening, as if a bad cool air had made the rest of the servile speechless. Then Cingo and his four men left immediately from that dark place and climbed up the stairs to the ground level, and went straight to the stable’s horses. The horses are agile and ready for these men, but before they ride their horses, Cingo instructed his men to wear a shawl on their shoulders to look like an Arab merchants and don’t forget to carry daggers. The preparations were quick and efficient, and while they are waiting patiently for the sun to go down from the west, they ate their meal and rested. The dark night has arrived, and it’s time for Cingo and his four men to leave; they rouse, quicken to riding their horses in the middle of the night as the shadows of five men are seen running fast, leaving the Holy City.

This particular night is not a regular night for Cingo. This night is one of the period in time that needs a special attention. This unexpected activities needs an urgency to give a specific instructions for his men, and so they stopped in a vast field, for Cingo has the urge to inform his men about Herod’s order entrusted to him. It was a brief instruction, planning for the perfect intrusion for the invasion, “a quick disturbance to frighten and intimidate everyone in that household, an easy access to carry out their mission.” Then Cingo and his men left in a hurry and in silence, determined to finish their definite dirty deeds. Continuing towards the south of Jerusalem, walking in the dark, looking for the city of Ain, John’s (the Baptist’s) town, they found their aim immediately.

As we know at first, that Cingo, with his quick witted mind had already planned what he would do, of how he would execute this child; this is what he said to his mind:

—“The Israelites had higher regards and big concern to John more than Jesus, so John should be the first one to put away.”

At this moment, Antipater flashed through Cingo’s mind, Herod’s son, for he was in charge to get rid of him too, saving him for last. Cingo knows and hoping that he can easily find Antipater in Jericho, where he often stays, in his slave’s house, Enoe.

Ain is two miles far from the Holy City, but the road is rough, rugged, and steep. The night is dark, and these men are planning to kill John, Isabel’s son (Elizabeth). It was midnight when Cingo and his men arrived in the nearby town.

Cingo decided to stop further away from their primary target, John’s residences; they stayed for a while in the woods from the nearby town to rest, then he ordered one of his men to be the look out and to guard their horses for the night. Then Cingo and his three men continue to move on by foot to Zechariah’s house.

As the mothers from Juda are still mourning, trying to get over from that horrible event that transpired in Bethlehem, the pain was still tearing their heart and soul apart. It was the inescapable and the unimaginable deed that these mothers had to face. The bloody scene enveloped by that unkind night, that after the gruesome event had happened, were those mothers gathered their children’s mutilated bodies to pick-up the pieces and carried them home in their arms, then they sat quietly in the corners of their houses and wept bitterly in silence. And when their unconscious husbands came home from work, where the fields of tiresome toil from farming is exhausting, unknowing what occurred, anticipating and hoping that the seraphic sweet kisses of their children would reward their daily grind, is when they realized the immeasurable and the apparent truth in their eyes. Their indescribable wailing is beyond their wildest dreams, their weeping is caught in an impressive array of emotions. The rage and fury, their outcry, gnashing of teeth for vengeance are just as loud and adequate.

The kind and good Israelites are still could not honestly believe what they had witnessed, for their severe grief is in need of an outright revenge. In that same day, about a few more hours, before the bloody massacre had taken place, and as the flickering star is sporadically restive in the dawn of day, the coming sunlight is shining across the glistening fresh hills, swiftly spreading through the broad plain land of Jehoshaphat. The husbands had left their homes to work, and off they went to the meadows, to an open passages, and through the forest glade, then straight to the plain field where they farm.

That day was a beautiful morning. The sweet warm breeze in the air was perfumed coming from the sweet smelling flowers of Carmelo’s mountain. The bright blue sky is clear and luminous in Juda, their children’s smiles are radiant in appearance and they are holding their mothers tight while they are sitting on their laps. The wives are looking out the windows, rendering their waving hands, bidding their daily goodbyes to their husbands going to work. All of these are an indication of a very happy working day. That day is bright and clear, but that cheerful, sunny morning was altered with gruesome, tragic night, and the unthinkable occurrence that no one could ever comprehend, the unbelievable event that no one could ever think, did happen.

But Oh! The unfortunate fathers, those miserable Israelites, were so moved, that all they could do was cry, weep with their wives, those mothers bathing with blood from their children’s corpses. But in that time, Abraham’s descendants was traced down to Isaac and Jacob, the chosen lineage are now a village of people with no ruler to lead them, a race of an ethnic group despised by foreign powers, a handful of enslaved people bound with chains at the foot of the proud Romans. That at the time was the chosen people for heroes, home of the braves, chosen by God to deliver “The Eternal Word” that became flesh. But God cannot find HIS chosen children anymore, HIS elected children like Moses are disappearing: “for no more Moses to teach HIS people about HIS creations; no more Elias commanding fire to pour down from heaven for his enemies; and this particular, unique ruler named “David” that can give honor for his country or Joshua that can make the sunlight shines down to earth to stay, to finish and win the battle, and decorated them with Laurel’s victory. For God also fought for the Israelites in this battle, the hurled huge hailstones gushed forth from the sky, which killed more Canaanites than those of the Israelites slaughtered. The last victorious ruler of God’s people was the heroic Judas Maccabeus, known as the leader of Israel. This ruler, Judas Maccabeus was never defeated in his own land, Juda. He poured out the last drop of his blood defending his people’s freedom. He is the one who define and molded the chains, contracted and bound for the Israelite’s twelve tribes, for during this period, after winning a number of victories and capturing Jerusalem, Judas Maccabeus establish a treaty of friendship with the Roman Senate. This proposal was accepted and a treaty was signed, and ever since then, the lewdness of their immodest filth, the bondage for being enslaved is printed on their submissive foreheads.”

By then the event of Daniel’s seventy weeks had already taken place, “to finish the transgression, to put an end to sin, and to atone for iniquity, to bring in everlasting righteousness, to seal both visions and the prophet, and to anoint the holiest places. Know therefore and understand from the time that the word went out to restore and rebuild Jerusalem until the time of an anointed prince, “which is the Messiah descended from heaven, that the prophets prophesied, “the Messiah,” the world’s Savior from God’s offspring is belonging to a particular race. But the Jews had forgotten their prophets, and they closed their eyes from the bright light; they covered their ears from the truth, and after spitting on and assaulting Christ’s face, they’d even erected a wood for HIS Cruxifixion at Golgotha’s mountain top called “Calvary.” Henceforth was the dreadful curse laid upon this woeful race that did not believe. No nation and no dwelling place for them, no law to protect them, no holy church would accept them or let them inside to ask God for the forgiveness of their sins and for the forgiveness of their lawlessness. A cursed race! A contempt race! What became their fate is to walk, wandering around the earth, until the end of time.

The grim and somber lamentation in Bethlehem, the gruesome agony of the weeping mothers for their children, had reached Isabel’s calm and peaceful home. The overwhelming fear of this older noblewoman is tremendous, she was panicking as she confided to her servant born in her house, her fearful apprehension for her son’s destiny. Zechariah, at that time, was in Jerusalem, attending meetings, performing his apostleship as the chief priest. But Isabel is sure to herself that something is about to happen, a woman’s intuition. She was aloof at the same time, and she would never give up to assure her son’s safety. As the sunset descended behind Juda’s mountains, she left her house, carrying in her arms is her infant child, John Bautista (the Baptist), followed by her faithful servant. They arrived in Carmel’s mountain and went into an unknown cave, they made their way into the deep cavity of this cave to hide and rest. Dried woods and dried leaves served as their bed for these two women, as they’d laid rest for the night, with the infant child, the baby destined to forewarn the human race for the coming Christ. In here they are peaceful, safe from worries and anxieties with a calmed heart, for they say, “in here they are safe from Herod’s wrath.”

On the other side of town, Cingo and his men arrived in the city of Ain, in Zechariah’s house. They searched and ransacked the place looking for the baby John, but they couldn’t find the child. And finally, they went to the servant’s quarters and awakened them from their peaceful sleep.

Cingo asked the servants about John, Zechariah’s only child, but no one could answer their questions, for no one knew where John was. Cingo threatened to kill all the servants for not confessing to him, but the only thing the servants could do was to kneel and cry in front of their executioners; tears flowing down their eyes. Cingo is in need of killing someone to appease his Lord’s great rage for the unsuccessful mission, to carrying out Herod’s command, and so he asks for Zechariah, the old priests whereabouts. One of the servants had answered, saying that he was in Jerusalem’s Temple, for Zechariah needs to guard the Temple that week.

Cingo was very angry; failing miserably for his mission that night was very disappointing. He was frustrated, and Cingo with his men left Ain City immediately and returned to Jerusalem. It was morning when he arrived in Jerusalem and went straight to Herod’s room. Once again he used the secret door, to let Herod know his failed operation for John’s failed execution. But a shocking surprise had greeted him as he entered the room; he stopped, stunned for the unimaginable sight he was seeing. He was witnessing a tragic and pathetic scene this time. It was not the same Herod that greeted him as he enters the room but a sick and dying Herod is in his bed.

Herod is lying on his bed, screaming, shouting profanities, accompanied by the awful howling. His whole body was trembling, shaking restlessly like neurotic, twisting, distorting his body in pain on top of his big pillows. Cingo observed Herod’s face changed dramatically in just a matter of minutes. A disgusting and abominable stench is fuming out of his body and no one in the room could stand it. Innumerable canker sores are rapidly budding out from his body, creating dark marks from his skin, his gangrenous ulcers are worsening, and his face is turning into a corpse color. A sticky sweat, slimy and absolute filth were flowing down from his forehead, his sunken eyes were sharpening as he is looking, scrutinizing every details of his surroundings, non-stop gazing all over, scary stares to everyone around him, like a craze lunatic. Herod is looking like a dying person, and he is like at his death’s door.

Salome, Herod’s sister, speeds up fanning his brother, a feathered fan to cool him down and ease his severe pain, while his brother-in-law, Alejo is sprinkling scented perfumes, a sweet balm to his body and on his bed. Four older men are sitting around the table at the end of the room. A lit-up silver lamp is shedding light towards a thick open book. These four older men are the King’s physicians, gathered together and converging softly, almost whispering.

Let’s hear what they’re saying:

—“At last, we found what this disease is! This is a stomach cancer. This disease is incurable.” One of them said.

—“Never should our hope be lost.” Replied another one. —“It is the doctor’s responsibility to strive for his ill patient against the claws of death.”

—“This disease, cancer they call is not in our medical books.” The afresh explanation of the first.

—“In the other side of Judah.” The second one replied again. —“Where the warm bath in Callirhoe is known as the thermal springs. Its spring water flows through the dead sea, is a potent medicine, and is very good to drink. For me, the King should bathe in Callirhoe. If this could not save him, then we should prepare for his end, fine linen to wrap his body for his inevitable demise.”

—“We have yet one more to try.” The third one said. —“The known perfumed oil’s bathing, his wound on his skin could get healed and be relieved from that bad body odor.”

—“All of your suggestions are useless.” Argued by the first. —“It is our responsibility to give our verdict, and so I chose for him to bathe in Callirhoe.”

—“The King is sixty years old. At that age and at that illness, any qualified physician cannot do anything but cheat his death for a few more days. Let’s go ahead and advise him to bathe in Callirhoe.” Spoken by the oldest, the fourth physician. The first time he talked, and the rest agreed.

After murmuring with each other for a few seconds, one of the doctor came near the King’s bed, with his lips smiling gently.

—“What is the advice of my intelligent friend Joaquin to this pitiful sick patient?” Herod asked as he looked at his beloved doctor getting near him.

—“The experts advise my Lord, is to bathe in Callirhoe.” The doctor said.

—“But I find it difficult!……….You all should find a different way to lessen my distress. What’s the use of all these if my doctors cannot ease and reduce my sufferings. What’s the use of my generous payment? And what is the benefit of my doctors lounging around, staying longer in my palace? You asked for gold, but at least give me back my health! Thou hast studied to cure and heal diseases, do thou heal me now! These hell of rodents nibbling inside my body!”

—“The doctor’s immediate advise is to bathe in Callirhoe.” The doctor’s words.

—“But will the eldest, the knowledgeable doctor be responsible for whatever happened to me from that bathing?” Herod asked.

—“Whatever the outcome, and what lies ahead that can happen,” replied by one of the doctor, —“is in the hands of the invisible God.”

—“So therefore, if anything, and no one knows what can happen next.” The King’s hostile response.

—“”Humans doesn’t have the ultimate wisdom.” The physician’s gentle response.

—“Therefore, it is by luck if I get healed?” Herod replied.

—“No.” The doctor’s response. —“The skills we have as a general practitioners trained us to become an expert, and our experience as your doctor gives this advise to you.”

—“But!” Herod’s word. —“Can’t you see that I could barely move? Every second is my body’s constant pain, extensive inflammation from my wounds, my flesh is putrefying, producing fetid smell, the vaporizing stench coming from within. How can I travel in this condition? All the sufferings, and my distress like hell is beyond compare from the pain and agony I will endure when traveling.”

—“A custom-made carriage carried by your slaves can transport you.” The doctor replied.

—“You will feel a bit relieved while bathing by then, compare to your excessive sufferings now.”

—“Excellent!” Herod cried out, followed by a lugubrious lamentation. —“I put myself into your hands; do try any chance I need to save my life because I don’t want to die yet! Did you hear?”

—“So then,” said one of the doctor. —“Prepare everything now so we can travel immediately before sunrise tomorrow.”

—“Ptolomy! Ptolomy!” Herod shouted at, to his watcher. —“Did you hear? Prepare everything!” Herod howled to his slave. —“We should not be here in Jerusalem by daybreak.”

Herod’s command is never broken nor delayed. Everyone left the room in a hurry to prepare for their travel to Callirhoe. Once in a while, Herod would shudder his body; he is suffering from the violent, involuntary contraction of the muscles, producing contortion of his body, and for this, he would cover his face and whispers the following:

—“Go away! Spirits bathing in my blood; I don’t want to feel you anymore! Go! Leave!”

BLOOD ON THE FACE

It was almost night when the executioners arrived in the Holy City from Bethlehem.

Cingo knows what’s the specific needs of his fellow villains, the distribution of payments for their horrific killings. After receiving the payments, these devious men spreads out all over town, eager to pour out alcohol down to their throat, desiring to intoxicate themselves and get drunk. Diffusing the vapors of exhalations, to relax and decimate the conscience, their once guilt of remorse, the accomplished crimes was committed and it’s finished.

That night, the news about the gruesome carnage happened in Bethlehem spreads all over Jerusalem. But what else is new? What could be more shocking to hear this kind of extreme evil, that deserves censure and condemnation? For nothing is new anymore! The poor citizens had already witnessed everything that they could ever comprehend, and behold.

Cingo’s fellow criminals are roaming around town extremely drunk. Staggering along the streets, a nuisance on the road from the passersby, even proud of their beastlike traits of brutality, obnoxious in debating, and arguing of who had done more beheadings, cutting babies heads by their sharpened barbarous machete.

One of the soldiers even stand up to proudly brag, honoring himself to his fellow friends, arrogantly showing his forearms filled with scars, saying:

—“I decapitated twenty babies heads, look at my arms marked with teeth bitten by those mothers.”

But in the middle of their exhilarations was the unexpected black thing that flew around them, then it vanished instantly like a twinkling of an eye; perhaps, the shadow of their guilty conscience lingering around them. These immoral, blasphemous killers are brainwashed, a command from the King enshrouded with venoms, stuffed in their minds and hearts are the execution of children two years below that made them sink even to the lowest depths of the under world, turning into disgusting creatures for killing people; called the “murderers.”

Cingo, the favorite slave, stayed calm, a little quieter than his comrades, drinking and rejoicing from the believed success of their mission accomplished. Then after associating with his followers, he immediately went straight to his Lord’s palace. Like always, he went directly to Herod’s bedroom through the secret door. Inside is the Idumean walking back and forth, obvious of his worries when Cingo entered the room. One wild smile grew bright to Herod’s face, enthusiastic to see his cherished slave.

—“Cingo!……….Is that you? Ah! Thank you, you’re back at last!”

—“I have fulfilled it.” Cingo said.

—“Fully accomplished?”

—“Everything!” The slave’s terse reply.

—“Ah!” Herod said, followed by his deep sigh coming from the bottom of his heart. Like he was relieved from his worries.

—“If we would believe the woman’s statement, the last one to arrived, where we left her crying in Bethlehem.” Cingo continued. —“Then you have nothing to be afraid of, any longer. For the well renowned newborn King of Juda that they talked about and you worry about? Well! Here is his head!”

Then the slave untied the baby’s head at the end of his shawl and gave the infant’s head that he viciously snatched from the woman’s arms, that last one to arrive in Bethlehem. Herod placed that part head of the body on top of the table, the head that’s freshly decapitated, straight to Herod’s hands. Slowly he walked around the table looking at the baby’s head, carefully identifying, silently scrutinizing every part of the head. The Idumean’s wide eyes are not blinking, staring towards the corpse’s face soaked in blood. He would rub his eyes once in a while like it was irritated by some dirt trapped in his eyelids, recognizing the lifeless image.

—“This is mysterious!” Herod is whispering as he stare at the baby’s face.

—“I seemed to have seen this face recently.” Herod was puzzled but afraid of what he could discover.

Cingo is silent. He is genuinely proud of his outstanding performance, his accomplishment, a masterpiece of affirmation presented to his Lord’s horrible and bloody command. He remained quiet, patiently waiting for the reward destined for granting him the unique, and excellent work he thought. Herod’s mind is confused and in disarray for recognizing that head, like he was racked with an inexplicable horror of doubt; he grabbed that infant’s head’s hair saturated with blood then went to the window to clearly see the face, and to dissipate his afflicting emotion. Through the help of that late afternoon sunlight, he was still skeptical from characterizing that baby’s face.

But at that very moment, and at the same time, the humungous curtain covering the door suddenly parted; blurted out and in a hurry is a pallid woman, white as a ghost! She was bloodied and emotionally overwhelmed, her eyes were swollen from her severe crying. She ran towards the hall, in the middle of the room, but she was surprised to see Cingo in the room, and recognized him at the same time. The woman screamed so loud, shouted out as Herod startled, trembled at the sound of the scream, then he slowly turn around with his eyes wide open, terribly surprised.

Herod was astonished to see somebody he knew!

—“You! Here Rebecca?” The startled query of the King to this woman, wondering for her presence.

—“Yes!…….Me!” The woman replied screaming and crying with her hoarse and trembling voice.

—“I deliberately came here to give the King of Jerusalem his son’s body, to attach that infant’s head he’s holding to this body!”

Then, Rebecca threw the crashed and decapitated body of the baby, that she was carrying hidden in her shawl, at Herod’s foot.

—“AaaaaaaaaH! The Idumean shouted aloud in reply. Then he retreated two steps, stunned and surprised by Rebecca’s words and action. —“If that is so………………..this head is?!”

—“Your child! Your son entrusted to me to take care to. And so I nursed him, I nourished him from my breast! But your child was killed by this sadistic vicious man, who obeyed your monstrous command!” The woman shouted.

Then Rebecca stretched out her one arm, and pointed out to Cingo.

Herod was screaming, shocked and speechless. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing! Then he abruptly released the child’s head, causing the infant’s head to fall to the board floor, making a cold, loud thump, and rolled to the ground. Herod was astounded to hear what he was afraid to discover. He was horribly appalled, and disgusted! His inexplicable horror of doubt is now determined; then he raised his two hands to cover his face, to not see with his eyes the head’s rolling down the ground, the last fruit of his love. But those hands are tainted with his own blood, and it imprinted, staining his face of a gruesome, grisly scene. The slave could not open his mouth; he was nervous and frightened, stunned for the unbelievable turn of event. Then sitting comfortably, he stand up promptly, flabbergasted from the unexpected situation, waiting for the act of judgment, those grisly hands of Herod to come down to him for punishment, in return for his obedience to his Lord. But despite of his fearful endearment to himself, afraid of what could happen next, and with his dark skin, it finally turned into white pale color.

At the same time, Rebecca, just by standing in their midst, had no remorse, not even a slight of feeling the guilt or repenting for her action, telling Herod that somebody had done something horrendous, pointing her stretched arm to the negro.

—“Let me be!…..Let me be!” Herod’s fierce command. Then after a while, thinking of how to deal with this kind of circumstance. —“Please remove that body in front of me! It is soaked in blood! Seeing that makes my eyes burn and it makes my heart boil!”

Rebecca put away the crashed baby’s body. She wrapped it in her shawl after giving the slave a menacing look, a threatening stare that makes Cingo cringe in cold fear, then she talked like prophesying:

—“Killing the firstborn males in Juda! Let his name be accursed unto the last moment of his breath. The raging fire in hell shall rejoice to rip apart his internal organs from the sharpened piercing tongues of fire!”

Then, Rebecca left the King’s room, holding tight to her chest is the child’s corpse, the innocent martyr!

Cingo was about to do the same, he hurriedly stand up to leave the room when Herod shouted:

—“Wait!”

—“My Lord, punish me! You have to hate me!”

Then Cingo bowed down his head, like he was waiting for the devastating blows, a punishment that could be granted to him by his King.

—“Don’t be afraid, Cingo!” Herod continued. —“Dire consequences, an accidental coincidence, is the one to blame involving my son. This savage luck is God’s fault, my descendant’s opponent! You are not to blame, and you are innocent. But listen! For all the blood poured down, exploded on the ground is plain useless if we don’t get Zechariah’s son and my traitor son Antipater; with your expertise in accomplishing my orders with great success, I entrust you to take over in managing my Kingdom’s peaceful affairs. Please go on, find them, do everything you can to fulfill my desires. As long as John and Jesus is alive, and as long as Antipater is free, the crown I am wearing is not secure. My power as a King is fast fleeting from my hand; my enemies are rising against me, threatening me in every corner, my troubled sleep is constant, and my life is long and slow in agony, suffering from my dying innermost. You already know Cingo, this cruel illness is eating me, making my enemies brave enough to aim their weapons at me. I see them wherever I impose my sight, standing and ready to strike me, desiring my scepter and my treasure. The traitors are uprising behind my back; their clever schemes are in every corner. The Pharisee’s, and the Essenes, as time progressed are becoming more deadly by the hour; they are gathering, meeting in hideous places even in Zion’s Temple, and the Holy City’s street corners. These two children who escaped my wrath are the one’s that gave the Israelites to arise in fury of fearless courage, but you my brave Cingo, can provoke and get these Hebrew’s on their nerves, and despair their hopes. Go on! Move on!……..For only you, who I can trust, can manage to keep my throne. The Romans don’t care, and they even made me pay them their highly expensive price for the supposed paid up services for their Lord; besides these kinds of things should be done in secret and this type of work should be done at night, but to compare in the daytime it is obvious, and it can easily be discovered.

Herod stopped talking, his sunken, sharp eyes are straight staring at the calm and composed face of the slave like he wants to know if Cingo can understand the fruit of his words. But the negro who is accustomed of being obedient in accomplishing his Lord’s commands, blindly performing the King’s orders, had slightly bowed down his head, then walked, heading through the door. But the King prevented him from leaving, and Herod held his arms, tight!

The deep and piercing Herod’s eyes glaring at Cingo frightened the slave, and it made him turned pale.

—“If you bring me the heads of John and Jesus right here in front of me, then I will grant you a Hebrew talent, a reward. I would even give you back your freedom.”

Herod spoke those words very gently with charm and fascination, like he wanted Cingo to trickle down these words to his heart, savor it with appreciation, and this is how Cingo responded, with his monotonous voice, and without bickering:

—“Eros, Mark Anthony’s slave, gained his egotistical fame, and at the peak of his glory, he killed himself in front of his Lord; my only wish and long-cherished dream is to make my name famous also, and to die just for you.”

Herod was delightful to hear these words from his brave and faithful servant. Then he presented his one hand to Cingo, and the slave with no regard took the hand of his King and kissed it. Herod, with his black and intellectual eyes, is beaming wildly to the thick and rustic face of his slave. Herod is greatly satisfied, the delightful sense from his heart is overflowing, and immeasurable, but he is concealing this from his slave’s awareness.

—“Go on.” Herod said. —“And don’t forget that I am waiting for you.”

—“Never did I rest when I am given the order with anything important from my Lord.” Cingo replied.

The slave left the room walking backwards for respect until he reached the door, a royal protocol.

The King of Jerusalem remained silent for quite a while in his room; his heart was deeply afflicted, affected by the departure of his beloved slave. His face suddenly turned into a creepy color, astronomically pale like a corpse. His cheeks had sunken, and the once dreamy eyes got deepened, as his whole body receded horribly.

His lips sink enormously with red bruises emitting to it, in pain and in distress, his lips started to move in motion, quivering, uttering a long agonizing moaning. His overstressed body is trembling, down to his nerves, causing great pain. Then he strongly forced to press his hands at the pit of his stomach as he erected his eyes above, convulsing. Suddenly, he fell down to his soft carpet, crumbling, making the groaning sound, then he began screaming:

—“Help me!……..Tend me! I am dying!…….”

Then Herod rolled down the floor, squirming in pain from his stomach like he was “damned,” judged by God. His mouth releases lumps of foams, and his restless body is tensed from turbulence. We can say that hell is spewing its venoms of fire, burning from within, consuming his body. Those in his household attended him immediately and they moved him back to his bed.

The doctors surrounded him right away, giving the quality of their expertise, their wisdom for health care, for his painful illness was clearly identifiable at the time. His mysterious illness is called “gastric cancer,” and this dreadful illness will send him out early to his grave, but after the tremendous torment he suffered first. God extremely dislike all the crimes that this cruel Idumean committed, and so the punishment began. God gave him the long and excruciating pain, an agonizing, and harrowing death. For destiny is speechless and blinded to what is to come, and God’s mighty hands pour down all his extreme anger from heaven down to this cruel King, for better or for worse from the moral fairness of justice that can’t be measured, and be blamed for what’s been done!