Seventh Dimension - The King - Book 2, A Young Adult Fantasy (29 page)

“Can we take the horses?” I asked.

Cynisca’s eyes darted around the room. “I suppose.
Why?”

I stood and
held out my hand. She scrambled to her feet. “Wait for me. I need
to go do something. Stay here, will you?”

“Sure. But tell me about what you want with the
horses.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Cynisca relented. “Hurry. I don’t like being here
alone.”

I collected my
tunic and cloak and hurried to the door, losing my balance
again.

She rushed
over to me. “Are you sure you are well?”

“Yeah. I
forgot. I’m still having trouble with my balance. I’ll be right
back.” I locked the apartment and went to the washroom and changed.
When I returned, Cynisca was gone.

I panicked. When I started to search for her, I
heard her. “I’m under the bed.”

I looked underneath as she crawled out.

“Why are you under the bed?”

“I don’t
trust that old woman—or Nidal and Tariq. They told me they were
looking for a scroll and they robbed you. What else might they do
if given the chance?”

“I’ve got a plan,” I said.

“What?”

I sat on the bed. “I need to go to Jerusalem for
Passover. Something happened in the chariot. Something I can’t
explain. Something I don’t want to share right now.”

Cynisca
nodded. “All right.”

“But God got
my attention, and with all that has happened, I realize—what’s
important. Things I can’t explain, that I can’t tell
you.”

Cynisca looked dejected and lowered her eyes. “What
about me?”

“I want to know you are safe. What would happen if I
took you somewhere? What about your family, the horses, and
Dominus?”

“I’d need to
let my family know. As long as the horses are safe—they are worth a
lot of money. Dominus—my father would have to deal with him. But
you—if they find you, they might send you to the mines because you
are an indentured slave, although you’ve already made so much
money, Dominus might let it go. People would be quite upset that a
national hero was—treated poorly.”

I laughed. “I wouldn’t call myself that.”

“You gave
people hope—every week they had someone they could admire, an
escape from Rome, something to think about besides their miserable
life.”

“Of course, if we take the horses, we will have to
return them. Where do you want to go?”

“I have a
friend in Galilee who can find a place for you to stay. I want you
to go to Galilee, to Brutus’s home. Talk to Mari. She’s like a
governess. Don’t talk to anyone but her. Tell her I sent you, that
your life is in danger, and can she help you find a place to
stay.”

“Mari?”
Cynisca repeated.

“Yes. You are a skilled horsewoman. I’ve no doubt
you can find work.”

“Will you be coming at some point?”

“After Passover, after I visit a friend.”

“What is Passover?”

Her question made me stop and think. “You don’t
know?”

Cynisca shook her head. “No.”

“Each year,
the Jews make an annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem to commemorate
their freedom from Egyptian slavery over a thousand years ago. When
they were in bondage, God told the Israelites to sacrifice a lamb
and smear the blood around the doorposts. When Yahweh came to kill
all the firstborn in Egypt and he saw the blood, he passed over
those homes—hence, the name—Passover.

“I have
sinned—greatly, and I need to make things right between God and
myself.”

“I—I can’t go
with you?” Cynisca asked.

I shook my
head. “No. You wouldn’t feel comfortable. Jerusalem will be crowded
with Jews for the Passover. They may not welcome you since you are
a Gentile. You will be safe in Galilee, away from Jerusalem—and
here.”

Cynisca studied my room in shambles. “Do you have a
girlfriend?”

I rolled my eyes. “Why do you ask me that now?”

Cynisca shrugged. “I don’t know. I sense your heart
is for someone—else.”

I looked away.
“It’s not relevant right now, so don’t worry about it.
Understand?”

She nodded.
“Yes.”

“Now how do we get those horses?” I threw a few
things in my bag, along with the laurel crown.

“Is that from last week’s race?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Months ago. Someone gave it to
me.”

“It’s
beautiful.”

“And strange that it hasn’t shriveled up like the
others,” I commented.

Cynisca
reached into my bag and pulled out the crown to examine it more
closely. “There is something different about it.”

“What’s that?”

“The color is
deep and rich, like the leaves are still living.” Cynisca put the
crown of laurel leaves back in the bag. “Strange.”

I changed the
subject. “Can we get the horses tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you can leave a note for your family, but we
need to leave—right now.”

Cynisca stood. “I’m ready.”

I straightened
up the room and left the key at the front desk. My bill was paid
through next week. I could sell the wreath on the way to Jerusalem
to buy a couple of doves as an offering at the temple. I wanted to
leave—immediately.

We took the
horses from the stables and left Caesarea. The night was cool and
the moon was nine days shy of being full, but full enough to cast
eerie shadows.

Traveling at
night now caused me more concern than staying. That we wouldn’t be
traveling together made me worry.

Cynisca came up
beside me on her horse. “I have an idea.”

“What’s that?”

“I have a
friend down this road. He might be willing to put us up for the
night. He is wealthy—even has a stable for horses.”

“Are you sure? I don’t have any money.”

“I took care of that at the stables.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wrote a note
that we are hiding the horses for a month for their protection.
Dominus won’t question me after what happened during the
race.”

“You mean my falling?”

“That and that several gamblers suffered severe
losses. This isn’t an honest sport.”

“I don’t want
to know any more,” I confessed. “The less I know the
better.”

“And one of the slaves found curse tablets in the
stall.”

“Curse tablets?”

“One of the
opposing teams put a curse on you. It had the whole team
spooked—including me. I didn’t want to tell you.”

“As I said, the
less I know the better.” Curse tablets—maybe the old woman did
that—she had to be a demon.

Cynisca
continued. “I also took enough money to provide for the horses’
care and I have my own money. I’ll lend you some. Just make sure
you return Oni in a month or Dominus will come after you—he’ll
think I made all of this up so you could steal from
him.”

“What about you and Mosi?” I asked.

“Dominus can’t send me to the mines. He needs me as
his top trainer. He physically can’t do it.”

“That’s good.”

Cynsica
frowned. “I wish I knew who that old woman was. She seemed so
evil.”

“What about the Naser brothers?”

Cynisca thought
for a moment “If you aren’t racing and they start winning, I think
their interest in you will…wane. Money solves many problems. I’m
most worried about the old woman.”

I didn’t want
to tell Cynisca that I thought the old woman was a demon. I changed
the subject. “Let’s stop at your friend’s for the
night.”

Cynisca agreed.
“I don’t like traveling in this darkness.”

We arrived at
our destination and Cynisca tied up her horse and walked to the
front door. A few minutes later, she waved for me to
come.

I dismounted
and tied my horse beside Mosi, somewhat skeptical that someone I
didn’t know would let me stay overnight.

Cynisca smiled as I approached. “Daniel, you will
never guess who this is—a mutual friend.”

I was greeted
by a middle-aged man I didn’t recognize, but he seemed to know
me.

“Daniel,” said Cynisca, “this is Theophilus.”

“What?” I
stared at the man in disbelief. After a brief pause, we both
laughed and received each other in a warm embrace. I couldn’t
believe we were staying with Theophilus—Dr. Luke’s friend. He was
the high Roman official who adopted Mari and the same man who asked
Dr. Luke if he knew of someone who could help mentor
Nathan.

We talked late
into the night about Dr. Luke, my work at Brutus’s place, how Mari
was doing, the healing of Nathan, and why I was no longer needed.
Theophilus seemed interested in hearing all about Mari. As is true
in small towns, relationships make strange connections.

I was careful
to avoid the subject of Brutus’s multiple wives, though being a
Gentile, he might not have cared. I thought Dr. Luke was Jewish,
but perhaps he was only half-Jewish and half Gentile.

By far,
Theophilus’s greatest interest was in the Jewish rabbi that he
called by the Greek name Jesus from Nazareth. When he heard I had
met him, he asked me for all the details I could
remember.

I told him
about Nathan’s miraculous healing and raising the dead
twelve-year-old girl to life.

He clapped his hands, “Remarkable, remarkable.” He
looked me in the eye. “Who do you think he is, Daniel from
Jerusalem?”

If Theophilus was a pagan, why was he so interested
in the Jewish rabbi?

I shook my
head. “Honestly, I don’t know what to make of him, but I’m on my
way to Jerusalem for the Passover and expect to see him. I will
come back to Caesarea and give you a full reporting of what I see
and hear.”

“I’d love to
hear your report,” Theophilus said. “I am honored to be in your
presence anytime. A friend of Cynisca, Mari, and Doctor Luke is a
friend of mine.”

I thanked him
for his kindness.

The slaves took care of the horses and we were given
separate rooms. Cynisca confided to me after Theophilus had retired
for the evening, “I’d like to learn more about your God, Daniel,
and the Jewish rabbi.”

I promised her, “After the Passover and my visit to
Dr. Luke, I’ll make a trip up to Galilee. We will need to return
the horses—if the danger has passed for your safety—and mine.”

*~*~*~*

The next
morning we left before sunrise. The night’s rest rejuvenated my
body and I was anxious to get to Jerusalem. Theophilus’s passion
for spiritual things had quickened my desire to worship in the
temple. My life had been spared and I wanted to meet God at
Passover.

Even Cynisca’s
desire to learn more about my God made me realize I was blessed to
be a Jew. What I had abandoned was now my burden—my passion. I
couldn’t wait to offer a sacrifice at the temple.

Soon Cynisca
and I came to the fork in the road. She would take the left one and
ride towards Galilee. I would take the right one and travel through
Samaria towards Jerusalem. My respect for Cynisca had grown—a woman
who could have ruined me, who risked her life to protect
me.

“Take this
money for the care of Oni,” Cynisca said, “and here is a little
extra for food.”

I shook my head. “No, I can’t.”

Cynisca looked confused. “Why not? You and the horse
need to eat. You have no shekels.”

I dropped down
from the horse and handed her the reins. “Take Oni with you. I will
walk to Jerusalem.”

Cynisca stared at me. “It will take you days to
reach Jerusalem. What will you eat? Why make this harder on
yourself than it has to be.”

“God will
provide for all my needs. I have water.”

Cynisca took
the reins from me, shaking her head.

I touched her
hand. “I’ll be fine. There is plenty of room in the stall at
Brutus’s home for both horses.”

“Daniel, I got
Oni for you to ride. I trust that you will return him.”

I stopped her.
“I—I may not make it back. I can’t explain now. I want to do the
right thing and return Oni to you while I can, and I don’t want to
owe you or your father any shekels. I must trust God for his
provision, and it begins now.”

Cynisca studied my face and smiled faintly. “All
right.”

The sun had risen over the hills. The freshness of
the new day was sweet—before the sun’s harsh rays brought thirst to
the arid land and dust clung to the crowded roads.

The future
beckoned us. Circumstances I couldn’t have imagined brought us
together. How much did God control and how much did I choose? I
didn’t know.

“I hate long
goodbyes,” I told her, “but I’ll be back to Galilee if God is with
me.”

Cynisca smiled.
“I have a hunch you will come. There is more in Galilee you desire
to see than just me.”

I laughed. “I
have business to tend to, though I fear my heart will be
disappointed when I arrive and find the girl I love has married
another.”

“Daniel, you’re alive. Leave to each day its own
troubles.”

I marveled at
her wisdom. Had my own faith in God enabled her to trust in my God,
too?

Cynisca pointed
towards Jerusalem. “Go to your Passover. Come and share with me
about your God. Mine sits on a pedestal made by human hands. Yours
occupies a temple—no, more than that. He lives—somewhere up
there.”