The Magic Circle, Katherine Neville [parable of the sower read online .TXT] 📗

“But that’s exactly what you do believe, my friend,” he said. When Joseph stepped back in protest, Lovernios added, “It’s what you’ve feared all along, isn’t it? Or why did you wait until James Zebedee’s departure before opening those clay cylinders? Why bring me from the isles to be here beside you when you opened them?”

Without awaiting Joseph’s reply, the prince reached down and picked up the net filled with clay amphorae, holding them near the fire to study them.

“Our only question now is whether to read these or to burn them,” he told Joseph. “Your master has taken a path I know well, you see. Among our people, only those who are chosen by destiny may follow the path of a drui, of a messenger to the gods. It’s a path that prepares one for the self-sacrifice that I think your Esus always intended to make in behalf of mankind. Such a path, as I said, also confers upon the messenger the wisdom and truth essential to the completion of such a goal. But there is another path, a path of far greater danger but bringing with it—if successfully carried out—vastly greater knowledge and power.”

“What sort of power?” asked Joseph.

Lovernios set the net down and regarded Joseph grimly. “We must find out exactly what those objects were, the ones buried by your ancestors beneath the roots of that oak tree in Samaria, and where they are today: whether they have indeed remained underground throughout these past two millennia, as I greatly fear they have not. For I suspect the story Esus of Nazareth intended to tell is not as simple as the rape of Dinah and the revenge wrought by her brothers. I think the kernel of truth in his story relates to a larger kind of transformation—and that the objects Jacob buried may be the key to the mystery.”

“But it was I who told you about those things,” said Joseph. “The Master never spoke of them. Besides, they were only clothes and jewels and personal treasures and the servants’ household gods, and they’ve been buried for two thousand years. So how could they relate to transformation, much less explain the Master’s actions?”

“You said the place they were buried was beside a sacred well and beneath a sacred oak, and the reason they were buried was to change the identity of the tribes descended from Jacob. This suggests they were not merely personal goods but talismanic objects invested with the charism of each individual member of the tribe,” said Lovernios. “The initiate who’s chosen that more difficult path I spoke of must first have possession of such talismans. They must be united in communal force during his invocation of the ancient mysteries. I feel certain this was your master’s objective. And if he elected to follow this path in behalf of your people, he himself must have obtained possession of your ancestors’ talismans. But whether he failed or succeeded in his final goal of transformation, now these objects must be returned to the earth again at once, to propitiate the gods.”

“I don’t understand,” Joseph protested. “You suggest the Master dug up objects that may have been buried for millennia—or perhaps never even existed—in order to gain for himself some mysterious power. But, Lovern, during his life the Master was capable of such feats as raising young Lazarus from death. And after his own death, he appeared to Miriam as in real life. What greater powers could there be than those he already held?”

The last flickers of fire had burned low, and by unspoken agreement the men started to break up the coals and prepare to return to Joseph’s ship. Lovernios hefted the net filled with clay amphorae, slinging it over his broad shoulder. Joseph could now see only the outline of the other’s muscular form. Lovernios’s voice came softly out of the darkness.

“When I told you that your master was possessed by a god, I fear I was not completely clear,” he said. “Instead, the druid believe that one is required to be a god—in order to bring forth a new Age.”

Syrian Antioch: Autumn, A.D. 35

THE TIME FOR TRUTH

And why do they consider Saturn father of Truth?

Is it that they think … Saturn (Kronos) is Time (Chronos), and that Time discovers the truth? Or because it is likely that the fabled Age of Saturn … an age of the greatest righteousness, participated most largely in truth?

—Plutarch, The Roman Questions

Lucius Vitellius, newly appointed imperial legate of Roman Syria, paced the floor of his chambers. These vast official rooms, where the business of Syrian Antioch’s Roman legions was conducted, overlooked the courtyard that connected them with garrison barracks for officers of the third legion. Whenever Vitellius passed the windows looking onto the court, he muttered a curse beneath his breath. Each time he did so, his scribe glanced up for an instant—then back quickly to the dictation before him, to see if he’d blotted anything. He was trying to clean a blotch just as the chief tackman came in.

“Where the devil is Marcellus?” Vitellius exploded. “I sent for him nearly an hour ago! Haven’t I enough on my mind, having just arrived to this state of chaos: first the damned Parthians and now the Jews?”

“Excellence, he sent me to say he’ll be only a bit longer,” the tackman apologized, dropping on one knee as he did so. “It’s the other officers: they’re haranguing him. They don’t want him to go to Judea if there’s going to be anything beyond just the hearings, they say. They don’t want a public trial—”

“They don’t want a public trial?” Vitellius’s face grew florid. “Be so good as to remind them just who is Roman legate!” Behind him the scribe, twisting in his seat, glanced anxiously toward the portal as if to escape. “Never mind,” Vitellius added furiously. “If I must, I’ll refresh my officers’ memories myself of who’s in charge here now!” He headed