He began to shake then, realising how nearly he had escaped final calamity. Moving like a palsied man he hurried, not caring how much noise he made, over the rocks and down into the sheltered place. Arad slept the sleep of the carefree single man, but Ibri was awake, blinking and bemused.
“I saw a great light,” he said.
“I heard voices.” He spoke as though the light and the voices had been things he had dreamed.
Josodad said, “Come, let us go to Bethlehem.”
ELEVEN
JERUSALEM 8 miles Except on state occasions, when he must appear as a king, it pleased Herod to wear the simple toga that was the mark of the Roman citizen. This he was entitled to do, for the first Caesar, Julius himself, had conferred full citizenship, with all its privileges, upon his father, Antipater, forty years earlier.
On this day, however, he wore his kingly, almost Oriental robes, with jewelled clasps and a jewelled belt, a coronet of emeralds on his head, where the hair was still plentiful and crisp, the black only just frosted with white at the temples; on his wrists he wore bands of gold, set with other emeralds and rubies and sapphires, and his fingers were stiff with rings.
He was about to go out and show himself to his people, so that those who loved him and those who hated him might see for themselves what rumour was worth. His friends had been grieving, his enemies rejoicing, over the state of his health; and both had had good cause. He had been gravely ill: but he had made a most painful journey by litter, across the Jordan, to a place called Calirrhoe, and there he had taken medicinal baths and drunk immense quantities of revolting, bitter-tasting water, and been not only restored to health, but rejuvenated. The pain that had gnawed, a wolf in his belly, had gone; his ravenous appetite was now normal, and his complexion, lately the colour of beeswax, had regained its smooth, faintly tanned Idumean hue.
He had come back, jubilant, just in time for the Feast of Saturnalia, and inside his palace he had celebrated, merrily: but he was far too cautious, far too wary of the High Priest and his following, and of the orthodox Jews, to make any public appearance during the Festival. So
on this day he intended to ride out.The gentleman-attendant, whose duty it was, held open his cloak, purple velvet, lined with fur and embroidered with gold thread. Parosh was a Jew, of the Hellenised kind whom Herod found tolerable, so to him he could say, “Solomon in full glory could not have been better clad!” and be sure of provoking a smile.
“I am ready, now,” Herod said, shrugging his shoulders into the cloak.
“And if Archelaus keeps me waiting, I shall disinherit him.”
The threat to disinherit was one of his slightly sour, self-mocking jokes; he never for a moment deceived himself about the extent of his power. He was King of Judea because his father had been a friend of the Romans and because his own personality and abilities had recommended him to Mark Antony and Octavius while they were still friends and shared the government of Rome. He had remained King of Judea because he had been wily, and because even when Antony and Octavius had fallen out, and Antony was dead and Octavius supreme, the latter had had the good sense to see that there was nothing to gain and much to lose by deposing a man who was managing well, who had put down civil war in Judea with a heavy hand, who was a good friend of Rome, whose half-Jewish blood made him acceptable to at least part of the nation he ruled. But when he died, even though he made a will and showed clearly which of his sons should succeed him, there was no certainty that Archelaus or any of his other sons would be chosen by Octavius-now Caesar Augustus, to occupy the throne.
Of his five remaining sons—Archelaus, the youngest, was his favourite; most like him in appearance, and, though only sixteen years of age, most compatible in mind. Unless something very regrettable happened, Herod intended to use all his influence, even his posthumous influence, on behalf of this boy; and with that in mind often appeared with him in public, frequently sent him on visits to Rome, and while he was in Jerusalem never failed to bring him to the notice of any visiting Roman.
Archelaus was punctual and Herod, looking him over, was satisfied by his appearance; he was dressed as befitted a prince, but not in such a way as to offer any competition to his father.
Herod, who had on at least three occasions placed policy before paternal feelings and murdered his sons as though they were enemies, was fond enough, at this moment, to say: “No cloak? They tell me the wind is very cold.” The escort waited; six members of the palace guard, a body of men whom Herod had organised very much upon the lines of the Emperor’s Praetorian Guard in Rome; imitation, so long as it was not tainted by competitiveness, was a useful means of flattery. It often seemed to Herod that many men of intelligence failed to succeed because they lacked knowledge of human nature. In one of the long, rambling complaints which the priests were always sending by delegation to Rome, one charge was that Herod copied the Emperor; and Augustus had given the reply that any sensible person could have expected.
“Whom better could he copy ?” Augustus had asked.
Herod had felt well when he wakened, well as he was robed; now with a horse between his knees again, he felt even better. Before his visit to Calirrhoe he had been able only to ride in a litter, and even that was painful. Now he rode a superb horse, one of Arab breed, brought up from his native Idumea.
They rode through a wide courtyard where the grass was always green, even in the height of summer, because it was intersected at regular intervals by small irrigation streams. There were many fountains, too, bronze or marble figures of boys and girls, holding bowls of torches out of which the water spouted, horses and deer and strange mythical beasts with water pouring from their mouths. Such things were detestable to the pious Jews who took the first commandment literally. But there was no need for any Jew to enter this way; there were other entrances, some containing nothing likely to offend. In this as in other things Herod had been Willing to compromise between what he wished and what was acceptable. About the water supply, so essential in a civilised city, compromise had been impossible; one could not build an aqueduct secretly, nor cheaply, and there had been a short, sharp rebellion when it was discovered that some of the Temple funds had been appropriated for the aqueduct. But to balance that, Herod could point to the immense amount of work he had done to embellish
theTemple itself. It was now finer than the one that Solomon had reared, which had been destroyed by the Babylonians. At the return from exile, the Jews under Ezra had rebuilt it, but small and plain. Herod had greatly enlarged and beautified it.
Behind him, as he rode out this morning, was the Palace, upon which he had lavished money and planning genius, and across the huddled roofs of the city, as he gazed ahead, he could see the Temple.
He said, “I intend to do something generous and spectacular to show my gratitude to Calirrhoe. The waters there are as good as any in the Empire, but the buildings are nothing, and the place is amateurly run. I think I shall build a great new bath with a musician’s gallery and a library and rooms for massage and amusement. To make the place popular would be an investment. As the roads improve more people will travel. That fellow Quintilius who dined with us the other evening, was on his way there.”
The old man talked as though he had years of life ahead of him, Archelaus thought; and really since his return from the baths, he looked as though he had.
Aloud he said, “Now what did you make of him, sir?”
Herod thought—I could tell you exactly. He’s an independent observer, in other words a spy. Augustus had heard of my illness and was beginning to plan ahead. Reports from officials are always biased.. .. But it was unwise to be too open, either of mouth or heart, even to your favourite; so he answered by asking:
“I don’t know. What did yo ?”
“It struck me that either his gout was very mild, or he has found some very powerful opiate. He ate and drank everything that was put before him.”
“That was very observant of you.”
“Also,” Archelaus said, ‘his appetite for information was as insatiable as his greed. He seldom asked a direct question, though. I noticed that. He had a way of bringing the conversation round, so that the way was open for you to tell him things.”