The Gospel of the Twin by Ron Cooper

Still—only seven ! Did they think Jews so pathetic that a handful of Romans could overpower several thousand of us?
    But then I realized how masterful they were at subjugation. Had they brought a legion, that would have meant we were deemed a serious threat, and we might have gotten puffed up and fought. This tiny, light cavalry indicated that we were only a minor annoyance, and hardly worth their attention. It worked, too, for as the horses trotted into the crowd, people scurried to clear the way. Some shouted curses at the soldiers, who continued on as oblivious as the horses to the insults.
    â€œWe have to stop them!” said Andrew.
    â€œQuiet,” I said. “Don’t be a fool.”
    â€œBetter a fool than a coward.” He picked up a fist-sized rock and hurled it. It struck a horse’s haunch, but the well-trained animal showed no reaction. Andrew drew a knife and lurched forward. I grabbed him, and Judas locked his arm around his neck, undoubtedly saving his life. If he believed Andrew might spoil the plan, Judas, I suspect, would have choked Andrew to death. I felt nauseated. This was really happening. John would be taken away and probably executed.
    What have I done? I thought. He’s my own blood, and his blood will now be on my hands.
    The soldiers stopped in front of the platform. “Are you the one called the Baptizer?” asked a centurion.
    â€œI am,” said John.
    â€œAntipas has sent us for you.” Three soldiers were already dismounting.
    â€œTell Herod he is welcome to come join us here,” said John.
    A soldier swung his lance into John’s leg. The shinbone snapped, and John fell like a stalk of wheat. It felt as if the blunt end of that lance had slammed into my gut. Soldiers lifted John, deftly threw him across a horse, and swept him away before most in the crowd even knew what had happened.
    Judas and I exchanged confused glances. What had Herod Antipas, the Roman puppet king of Galilee, to do with this? Why would the Romans have taken my and Judas’ accusations against John to Antipas? They didn’t need his permission to make an arrest. Could this have been a separate affair? Did Antipas have his own reasons for the arrest? Would that mean that I had not actually betrayed John?
    That night, many people fled under the cover of darkness, probably embarrassed to be seen so quickly leaving their dreams behind. By morning, fewer than half the followers remained, and more were gone by nightfall.
    â€œIt doesn’t matter,” Judas said to me. “What’s important is that John is gone. This will convince any doubters that neither Herod nor anyone else in high office is our friend.”
    â€œBut whatever they think of Herod, they must think little of Jesus,” I said. “See how many have scattered?”
    â€œBut that’s good, too,” Mary said. “We need only the truly devoted—those who would choose death over tyranny.” She took my hand and pressed it against her cheek. She closed her eyes a moment, then looked into mine. “Dear Thomas, I believe that Jesus has been chosen by the Lord to deliver us from this empire of demons. When I am near him, I can feel a power like the bristling from a woolen robe on a cold morning. I see it moving through others as he speaks. You feel it too, Thomas. You become lost in his words, as if the world has fallen away and he is those words, and he is all.”
    She was right. I could not make sense of it then, but I believed that my life and the destiny of my people were contained in my brother. I’d always thought of him as a leader who could get people to recognize how they were being exploited, and that only their own actions could deliver them, and then only by banding together to act.
    But those were distant thoughts, dreamlike visions of Jesus sitting at the head of a national council, top judge and high priest, refusing to sit upon a throne but receiving