revolted against the invading foreigners determined to rock the foundations of Judaism. This crop of rebels learned much from the failures of the Maccabee Rebellion, finally quelled in 70 AD, 70 CE if one wanted to be politically correct as to the measurement of years. Bar Kochba’s Second Jewish Rebellion, beginning in Judea in 132 AD/CE, established an independent Jewish State that held for two years.
Rome answered with s ix full Legions. Over the months, the sheer force of numbers took their toll on both sides, a toll so great that Hadrian changed the traditional greeting of Emperor to Senate and did not say, “I and the Army are in health.” The Army wasn’t in health but Rome had one thing the Jewish rebels didn’t. A steady flow of bodies to replace the bodies that fell.
Now, three years into the Rebellion, only small bands like this band of twenty remained, bands that struck with lightning speed and the fury of thunder and disappeared back into the interlocking caves of the Judean hills, almost impossible to track and destroy. The end was near, though, and they knew it. Fifty fortified towns and almost a thousand villages burned to the ground, the landscape littered with bodies. Only Betar, that last fortress in the Judean Highlands, remained. And without reinforcements, Simon Bar Kochba wouldn’t hold it much longer.
T he two men who led this band moved away from the group to look out and down from the rocks at the Roman forces spreading out in front of them.
“They’re flanking us , Micah. We have to move before there’s nowhere to go.”
“ Aaron, there’s already nowhere to go. You know that. There aren’t any caves near.”
A third rebel slipped between the two. A woman, too thin. These years in the hills had taken their toll on them all. “Then we fight.”
“Hannah—”
“ Ssssh. I know, you don’t have to tell me. It’s a good day to die. A good way to die. Between my brother and my husband.” She reached over and hugged the rebel on her left tightly. Then she reached over and up to the rebel on her right, put her hand around his neck to pull him close to her and kissed him fiercely. Aaron raised his head and locked eyes with his brother-in-law, confirming the unspoken agreement between them. Whatever happened, she’d never be taken by the Romans. No matter what.
I knew them. I knew them all. As my sister. As Micah, the Angel of the Divine Path. As Dr. Stuart “Spike” Forrester.
The Romans surged up the hills. As one, the two men pulled their short swords and plunged them into the woman’s heart. They couldn’t take the chance of falling themselves without being certain she wouldn’t endure the long, agonizing death of Roman fury. She made no sound, other than short gasps. Her eyes, full of pain, glowed with love. “Love you both. We’ll see each other again.” And she was gone.
Agonized roars of rage and grief ripped from their throats as they met the Romans. It was short. It was brutal. And at the end of the day, back down in the flat desert at the foot of the hills where they’d made their last stand, five crosses stood in a row. For two of the men on those crosses, this agony paled in comparison with the memory of Hannah’s eyes as she died.
* * *
I forced myself out of the immobility of the Seer’s trance and wiped the tears running down my face.
“Oh. Dear. God.”
Stacy smiled and hugged me close. “It was a long time ago, Ari. We all got our little past lives to tote around with us.”
I laughed. “Yeah, but it makes me tired to think about it. How many times we’ve all found each other. Chad and me. You and Spike. And finally—you’ve found Micah. Who for some reason isn’t reincarnating over and over again like all of us.”
“Yeah, that’s been a bitch,” Micah said. “I asked about it, why I wasn’t a repeater—”
“That’s what we are? Repeaters?”
“That’s the cosmic technical phrase, yeah. But the only answer I got was
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