Devil's Island (7 page)

When Abraham arrived the greater threat, at least initially, was inside the city walls: the rebel groups were deeply divided and battling for control of the Temple Mount. Ordinary citizens were often caught in the cross fire of the opposing factions.

Six weeks after his arrival, Abraham came face-to-face with not only the brutality of war but the dehumanizing despair of deprivation. For the first time in his life, he knew what it was to be truly hungry.

“We have no food again. Nothing.” In the early morning light Rivka's face appeared more haggard than usual, and she looked worriedly at the young child balanced on her hip. “I've been very careful with our supplies, Tobias . . .” Rivka's words dwindled to a frightened whisper.

“I know you have. It's not your fault.” Tobias touched her arm reassuringly and Abraham's heart went out to the couple. He'd grown very fond of them in the few weeks he had stayed in their beautiful home in the Upper City.

Tobias was the son of a distant relative, one his father had encouraged him to look up when he arrived in Jerusalem. Of course, his father had not known that Abner was no longer alive or that Abner's son had become a Christian. Abraham relished the irony of finding that his father, who had intended for Abraham to renew his Jewish faith, had instead placed him in the home of a kinsman who shared his new faith in Christ.

“We should have left with the others,” Rivka lamented. “But the baby . . . I was scared.”

“You must stop blaming yourself,” Tobias said. “Staying here, in our home, was the right thing for us.”

Tobias had already told Abraham how most of the Christians in Jerusalem had relocated to Pella, a city in the province of Perea, east of the Jordan River. They had believed the anticipated Roman siege was the beginning of the troubles prophesied by Jesus, and that the city of Jerusalem would be destroyed. But when their friends departed, Rivka had been pregnant, and having a difficult time, so she and Tobias had stayed. And after the birth of their son, Joel, they had still been hesitant to travel because the child was sickly.

“Besides,” Tobias added, “if we had left with the others, we would not have been here to welcome Abraham. Just think what we would have missed then.”

“I'm glad we didn't miss that,” Rivka said, smiling at last. “You've been a dear friend and brother to us.”

What they would have missed,
Abraham thought,
is another mouth
to feed.
A burden no one in Jerusalem, overcrowded by the influx of pilgrims for Passover—pilgrims who were now stranded in the city—had needed. But his cousins, as he referred to them, had not seemed to mind at all. In fact, they had been bolstered by his arrival, and the bond of fellowship with them had become quite close-knit in a matter of days.

“Abraham, it's time for another adventure,” Tobias announced, trying to keep a light tone. “Let's go shopping for food.”

“We're getting quite good at this, you know,” Abraham told Rivka, striving to match Tobias's feigned optimism. It was a charade both men adopted for her sake; they couldn't bear to tell her the truth about the increasingly desperate conditions in the city.

“Abraham's a born trader. You should see him drive a bargain.” Tobias smiled and clapped Abraham on the shoulder as they told Rivka good-bye. “Stay inside,” he warned his wife unnecessarily. “We'll be back as soon as we can.”

The instant the two men stepped outside, the smiles faded. Tobias placed the palm of his hand against the closed door. “Keep them safe, Lord,” he said softly.

“And grant us the favor of Your provision,” Abraham added.

They left the spacious homes of the wealthy in the Upper City and made their way through the labyrinth of cobblestone streets and crowded houses of the Lower City. Several days earlier the Roman troops had breached the outer walls of Jerusalem and occupied the northern suburbs, shutting off access to most of the commercial area. Shops in the older part of the city had closed as well, their supplies confiscated by the revolutionary forces brutalizing the city from within.

Acquiring a few morsels of food had become a dangerous enterprise. Recently, when their pantry had been completely exhausted, Tobias and Abraham had purchased grain from their neighbors, paying exorbitant prices for a loaf of bread or a measure of grain. After a few days it had become impossible to find anyone with food to sell.

“Should we head for the old aqueduct?” Abraham asked. “It could be very risky, trying to sneak outside the city.”

“Yes, but I think it's time to try it. We're not going to find anything here,” Tobias said, studying the surroundings carefully as they walked. “And it's every bit as dangerous inside the walls.”

“The stench is worse today too.” Abraham wrinkled his nose and frowned. The smell of death permeated the air even more than usual. “I would gladly risk danger for a few deep breaths of fresh air outside these walls—”

Abraham tripped and stumbled, and Tobias reached out a hand to steady him. When he looked down at the street to see what had impeded his progress, Abraham nearly retched at the sight. He had lost his footing on the body of an old man. Strands of gray hair flowed over the bloated face, streaked with blood and crusted with flies. Far worse than the frightened stare of his lifeless eyes, however, were the tangled remains of the lower half of his body: the man had been disemboweled. Abraham had not believed the rumors that the revolutionaries committed such atrocities on those they suspected of swallowing gold or jewels to preserve their riches from theft as they tried to flee the city. But now he knew it was true. The cutthroat armies of the Jewish revolution robbed, killed, or tortured their own people for food or valuables and left the bodies in the streets as a warning.

Shaken by the discovery, the two men walked silently toward the edge of the city. Abraham tried to pay close attention to their route so he could find his way home in the event they got separated. Tobias had spent a lifetime navigating the twisting streets and alleys, but Abraham found the layout confusing.

On one of their recent outings, Abraham and Tobias had come across a portion of an ancient aqueduct no longer in use. They had carefully explored it, discovering that it led under the city wall a short distance at the city's eastern edge, opening to a spot just south of where the Tenth Legion was camped on the Mount of Olives. An overgrowth of brush disguised the opening, and if they were careful, they could slip in and out without notice. They had discussed using it as a tunnel to get outside the city walls, where they could gather herbs or grasses on the hillside.

Today, they decided, it was time to implement their plan. “Perhaps we should split up,” Tobias said as they approached the entrance. “I'll go through the aqueduct and see what I can find outside. You stay here and look.”

“No, if we part company, I should be the one to go.” Abraham picked his way over the rubble and followed Tobias underground. He had to stoop a bit as they walked through the tunnel but Tobias, who was short and wiry, stood at full height as he led the way.

“It's more dangerous for you than for me,” Abraham continued. “I'm a Roman citizen who got trapped in the city, and Titus has promised us safe passage. So if I'm captured, I would have to return home, which means I couldn't stay to help you and Rivka, but I wouldn't be killed.”

He left unspoken his fear that Tobias, if captured, would be crucified in the daily display of terror the Romans conducted for the Zealots' benefit. Jews caught outside the city were offered a chance to defect; if they refused—which most of them did, fearing what would happen to their families in their absence—they were deemed to be revolutionaries and executed by crucifixion. Dozens met a similar fate every day, and Abraham had watched the rebels drag the families of those being crucified to the top of the city walls to watch the spectacle below. “This is what happens to traitors,” the Zealots warned the terrified citizens. It was an effective recruiting tool; some joined the revolutionaries willingly after that, but a few jumped over the walls and took their chances with the Romans.

Reaching the spot where the aqueduct emptied out under the wall, Abraham and Tobias stood and looked through the overgrowth to the outside. Dismayed by what they saw, neither one spoke for a long time.

“It's too late now,” Tobias finally said. “We should have done this last week.”

“We weren't as desperate last week. We still had corn to eat.” Abraham gazed forlornly at the bare hillside. The Romans had cleared several acres when they built their camp; now they had deforested the entire area. Every tree had been cut down, and the grass was completely trampled. There was nothing left to forage.

“This must be where the timber came from to build the new siege towers.”

Abraham had seen the movable wooden structures Tobias referred to. The siege towers were immense, seventy-five feet tall, and allowed the Roman archers to shoot at the rebels defending the walls at close range.

“I don't know how much longer the city can hold out,” Tobias said sadly.

“The longer it holds out, the more innocent people will die, and the more vengeful the Romans will be when they finally do take it. The rebels have no realistic hope of defeating the Roman legions; they never did.”

“No, but they will not give up one square inch of the territory they hold—not until the last one of them is dead. And for what purpose? Most of us were content living under Roman rule. It wasn't always pleasant but it was not usually oppressive. For the most part we paid our taxes and lived in peace.”

“If the war continues at this rate,” Abraham said, “no one will be left alive to enjoy the peace that follows—whichever side eventually prevails.” He supposed a miracle was possible, but the rebel factions were vastly outnumbered, poorly organized, and prone to fighting among themselves.

“I guess we wouldn't have gotten far outside the wall today, anyway,” Tobias said. “See how closely the camp is guarded.” He pointed toward the tents of the Tenth Legion, a few hundred yards in the distance. A Roman sentry was posted about every ten feet around the southern perimeter, the part of the camp visible from their vantage point.

“We'd better head back.” Abraham put a hand on Tobias's shoulder and urged him to turn around.

Tobias did not move. “They're well fed, the soldiers. The perimeter is guarded, but if we could just slip past the sentries, the camp would be virtually empty.” He spoke as if picturing every step of an imaginary assault on the camp. “We could find the mess tent easily enough. It's probably that large one about a third of the way in. They would never miss whatever we could carry out—”

“You can't be serious! There is no way we could make it through all those guards undetected.”

“I have a wife and child who are going to die soon if I don't bring them something to eat.” Tobias had a wild look in his eyes that alarmed Abraham. “And there is food in that camp.”

“Tobias—”

“I know,” he said bitterly. “There's no way to get to it.” He turned and sighed. “We'd be killed, and then my family would starve for certain.”

“Perhaps we can find another abandoned house with a bit of food hidden away,” Abraham said. “That's how God blessed us with the corn.”

They walked the short distance back through the aqueduct and Abraham gave Tobias a hand as they climbed out over the dirt and rubble to the street. As soon as they got their footing on level ground, a group of Zealots rounded the corner and headed their way.

“Have you been outside the walls?” one of them demanded.

“See if they have food,” commanded another.

Abraham and Tobias exchanged a brief glance, wondering what to do. The two were unarmed and they had no food, but that didn't mean the half-dozen ragtag soldiers would let them go.

“Run for it,” Tobias urged.

Abraham tore down the street as fast as his legs would carry him, with Tobias pounding the pavement right behind him. The Zealots were in hot pursuit, daggers drawn, shouting, “Stop! Traitors!”

His leg muscles burning with the uncommon exertion, Abraham turned onto a street he recognized and jerked his head backward, still running at full speed. The soldiers were gaining on them.

“Left!” Tobias shouted, his arms flailing wildly as his short legs tried to match Abraham's frantic pace.

Abraham turned left into the alley Tobias had indicated, and a few yards ahead he saw a street. He couldn't consult Tobias about their route, so he darted in that direction. The footsteps behind him were not quite as thunderous, and Abraham thought that he and Tobias might be able to outrun the rebels. Instinctively, he darted into first one alley and then another one, his feet seeming to know where to carry him.

He concentrated so hard on finding landmarks that it took him a few moments to notice the footsteps had not followed him after his last turn. Slowing enough to brave a glance backward, he discovered he was alone on the street.
Tobias! What happened to Tobias?
He was right behind me.

Abraham heard shouts and the sound of running from the next street over, so he changed direction and followed the noise. But the narrow streets and alleys were like a maze, and no matter how hard he tried or how fast he ran, he could not manage to find Tobias and his pursuers. After a few minutes he could no longer hear them at all, and he slumped against a stone wall, his heart pounding and his chest heaving like a blacksmith's bellows. Sweat dripped off his face and stained his clothes.

Perhaps Tobias eluded them
, he thought. Tobias knew the Lower City well and might have spotted a hiding place, a narrow passageway he could squeeze into while the soldiers ran past him, unaware. Or perhaps he was talking his way out of the situation this very moment, if they had caught up with him. Tobias was stubborn and feisty and quite persuasive.