They will tell you where they have hidden them.”
“We have captured one of the Sicarii. He will know where the standards of the legion are hidden.”
“Bring him here.”
Ben Hochba was pushed to the ground in front of Titus.
“If you want me to spare your people, Jew, tell me where you have hidden the eagles of the Twelfth Legion?”
“You have the eagles already, heathen.”
Titus smiled contemptuously at ben Hochba. “If I do, where are they?”
“In the menorah you stole from the Temple. I told your favorite commander Varro all about it. Ask him.”
Enraged at the mention of Varro's name, Titus jumped off his horse and stabbed ben Hochba through the heart.
“Cut this Jew into pieces and feed him to the dogs. How many prisoners have we taken, Tribune?”
“Thousands, Imperator.”
“Kill them all.”
The Tribune looked at Titus. “Even the women and children?”
“Yes, and when you have done that, flatten Jerusalem. Leave it a pile of rubble.”
“As you command, Majesty.”
“I want even the desert rats to avoid this place.”
Titus Flavius Sabinus wheeled his horse about and galloped back to the Roman encampment.
After crawling on hands and knees for several hours, Yohannen felt a hot breeze blowing on his face. He knew he was coming to the end of the tunnel. Several cubits ahead of him, he saw a glimmer oflight. Pushing aside some underbrush, Yohannen observed a stony field in front him. The stones were hot from the blistering Judean sun. In the distance, he could see Roman patrols rounding up the Jews trying to escape from the city. With Roman soldiers on all sides, Yohannen realized it would be foolhardy to search for the Jaffa road in broad daylight.
As darkness fell, Roman soldiers still scoured the countryside looking for escaping Jews. Several patrols passed dangerously close to the tunnel entrance. Yohannen realized he had little choice but to stay hidden in the passageway during the night. By morning, however, Yohannen knew he had to risk capture in order to find water. His lips had become cracked from the intense heat and lack of moisture. The rabbi remembered there was a small well two leagues west along the Jaffa road. Barring no encounters with Roman patrols, Yohannen estimated he could reach the well by midday.
When the old rabbi emerged from the tunnel, the punishing heat of the desert made him lightheaded. For a moment, he sat down on the ground, afraid of losing consciousness. A bloated horse lay on the ground near him. The smell of carrion was overpowering. When he tried to stand, the rabbi twisted his ankle and fell back on the ground. Exhausted, he crawled toward some bushes by the side of the road. They would at least provide him shade. But before he could reach them, the rabbi lapsed into unconsciousness.
The next thing Yohannen heard was a voice saying “Old man, drink some water.” Yohannen slowly opened his eyes. A stranger was standing over him holding a small cup. “You are weak, old man. You must get out of the sun.”
The rabbi tried to push the man away.
“Don't worry! I'm not one of Titus's soldiers. I will not harm you.”
When the rabbi realized the man was not a Roman, he took a drink from the cup. The man picked Yohannen up and carried him to a small pool of shade by the side of the road.
“My name is Evardus — a merchant from Gaul. I follow the way of Christ.”
The rabbi tried to speak but the words would not come. He gestured for the merchant to come closer. Evardus bent down and put his ear near the old man's lips.
“The sacred vessels and records of my people are in a cave — buried in a cave.”
“Where, old man?”
“There's a copper scroll — it is under the Holy of Holies.” The rabbi's voice was no more than a faint whisper. “You must find it.”
“Where under the Holy of Holies?”
“You must find it, you must — the scroll — it's in the ‘stone of life.’”
“‘In the stone of life.’ What do you
“We have captured one of the Sicarii. He will know where the standards of the legion are hidden.”
“Bring him here.”
Ben Hochba was pushed to the ground in front of Titus.
“If you want me to spare your people, Jew, tell me where you have hidden the eagles of the Twelfth Legion?”
“You have the eagles already, heathen.”
Titus smiled contemptuously at ben Hochba. “If I do, where are they?”
“In the menorah you stole from the Temple. I told your favorite commander Varro all about it. Ask him.”
Enraged at the mention of Varro's name, Titus jumped off his horse and stabbed ben Hochba through the heart.
“Cut this Jew into pieces and feed him to the dogs. How many prisoners have we taken, Tribune?”
“Thousands, Imperator.”
“Kill them all.”
The Tribune looked at Titus. “Even the women and children?”
“Yes, and when you have done that, flatten Jerusalem. Leave it a pile of rubble.”
“As you command, Majesty.”
“I want even the desert rats to avoid this place.”
Titus Flavius Sabinus wheeled his horse about and galloped back to the Roman encampment.
After crawling on hands and knees for several hours, Yohannen felt a hot breeze blowing on his face. He knew he was coming to the end of the tunnel. Several cubits ahead of him, he saw a glimmer oflight. Pushing aside some underbrush, Yohannen observed a stony field in front him. The stones were hot from the blistering Judean sun. In the distance, he could see Roman patrols rounding up the Jews trying to escape from the city. With Roman soldiers on all sides, Yohannen realized it would be foolhardy to search for the Jaffa road in broad daylight.
As darkness fell, Roman soldiers still scoured the countryside looking for escaping Jews. Several patrols passed dangerously close to the tunnel entrance. Yohannen realized he had little choice but to stay hidden in the passageway during the night. By morning, however, Yohannen knew he had to risk capture in order to find water. His lips had become cracked from the intense heat and lack of moisture. The rabbi remembered there was a small well two leagues west along the Jaffa road. Barring no encounters with Roman patrols, Yohannen estimated he could reach the well by midday.
When the old rabbi emerged from the tunnel, the punishing heat of the desert made him lightheaded. For a moment, he sat down on the ground, afraid of losing consciousness. A bloated horse lay on the ground near him. The smell of carrion was overpowering. When he tried to stand, the rabbi twisted his ankle and fell back on the ground. Exhausted, he crawled toward some bushes by the side of the road. They would at least provide him shade. But before he could reach them, the rabbi lapsed into unconsciousness.
The next thing Yohannen heard was a voice saying “Old man, drink some water.” Yohannen slowly opened his eyes. A stranger was standing over him holding a small cup. “You are weak, old man. You must get out of the sun.”
The rabbi tried to push the man away.
“Don't worry! I'm not one of Titus's soldiers. I will not harm you.”
When the rabbi realized the man was not a Roman, he took a drink from the cup. The man picked Yohannen up and carried him to a small pool of shade by the side of the road.
“My name is Evardus — a merchant from Gaul. I follow the way of Christ.”
The rabbi tried to speak but the words would not come. He gestured for the merchant to come closer. Evardus bent down and put his ear near the old man's lips.
“The sacred vessels and records of my people are in a cave — buried in a cave.”
“Where, old man?”
“There's a copper scroll — it is under the Holy of Holies.” The rabbi's voice was no more than a faint whisper. “You must find it.”
“Where under the Holy of Holies?”
“You must find it, you must — the scroll — it's in the ‘stone of life.’”
“‘In the stone of life.’ What do you
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