To Kill the Christ! - Chapter Nine: Aquae Sulis Interlude

       The caravan, after resting yet another night, slowly wound its way through the hills, following the River Avon into Aquae Sulis, the village located on the site of Twentieth-first Century Bath. It was a small village, known for its sacred hot springs, from which it derived its name. Round buildings of rough wood with thatched roofs dominated the village, but here and there a more substantial building stood, partially built of mud. There was only one road through the middle of the village, narrow paths led between buildings into other byways. There were no defensive walls.

       Villagers stood in doorways or peered out of small crude openings, which served as windows, to gape as they passed, particularly at the threesome in their unusual outfits. Rebecca kept her helmet tight over her red tresses.

       "What're their feet in?" Rebecca understood some of the comments from the crowd and passed them on to Carl. The people were comfortably dressed in comparison with those they had seen earlier. Their bland grey and brown clothes were complete and warm. Everyone wore a cap on the cool day and multi-colored tassels fell over neck and shoulders. Their soft leather shoes were laced from toe to ankle.

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       Rebecca explained the situation. "We'll have this room over to the side, with a wall between us and Raphael."

       "These rooms are courtesy of Aaron and the local ri or chief," Carl said. "I don't remember his name. I saw the wagons placed safely outside of the village, then gave over my command to a crew of roughnecks that would adorn a pirate ship. Aaron was dismayed when he saw the new guards. They aren't as disciplined as Morius' men, nor as well mounted and dressed."

       He sat on the edge of the bed and began removing his clothes. "I told Aaron that if he had trouble with those men, he should contact us as quickly as possible, and we would help out." He held a sock up and wrinkled his nose, then threw it into a distant corner of the room. It had been three long, hard days since he had bathed in the pond.

       A large and deep wooden tub sat in the middle of their room, lined with lead. A young maid filled it with wooden pails of hot spring water, casting envious glances at Rebecca and appreciative glances at Carl.

       They had lived and fought together several days since their honeymoon yet had hardly exchanged caresses during that period.

       Carl felt the water—always the cautious man, Rebecca noted—locked the gate-like door, stripped and stepped into the hot tub.

       "Ah, as good as a California hot tub," he grinned. "I didn't know the barbarians had tubs, but there's no reason they couldn't. Now we've got proof." The thought flashed momentarily that such proof no longer was important.

       He beckoned, and Rebecca, stepped out of a dirty army uniform and gracefully joined him, a vision of loveliness, the discoloration of her bruise faintly visible. Not that he was looking at it.

       The tub was crowded, but the bath was secondary anyway. They clung fiercely and quietly to each other before carefully, almost reverently, washing one another. Both felt the urge to make love, but they waited until, dripping and trembling, they reached the rustic bed of straw and wolveskins.

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       During the next two days Raphael fought his way through a fever and chills. Rebecca applied cold towels to drop his fever and used hot spring water to soak his wrist and cleanse the wound.

       Assisted by Gaio, she applied clean bandages covered with salves, until finally the flesh showed pink. As Raphael's fever dropped they knew he would survive. He was a tenacious fighter with a strong will to live. Both Rebecca and Gaio knew that the hot springs may have helped to cleanse his wound, but it was the "magic" medicines that saved his life.

       Aaron rested a full two days in Aquae Sulis, trading and preparing for the final push to the coast, which Carl suspected was near the port he knew as Southampton. The second night they had a long discussion in archaic French and Latin, which helped Carl fix the year. He had learned to read Medieval French, a "dead language," to investigate the Norman occupation of England, but he didn't know correct pronunciation. Using the little Latin he knew, he was able to communicate and mis-communicate with Aaron.

       "Caesar invaded Britannia many years ago," Aaron said. "He returned to Gaul after defeating the Catuvellauni, who sent hostages and tribute. Many tribes paid for that defeat for years. Caesar Augustus, who succeeded to the throne, now has died and is succeeded by Tiberius, his adopted son, who receives the tribute."

       "What is the year of Tiberius' reign?"

       "The fifth year."

       A great sigh escaped Carl. He knew when he lived. Then the enormity of the answer hit him. It was AD19. "Jesus won't be crucified for another decade," he muttered in English.

       "What do you mean?" Aaron asked. That prompted a long discussion about the messiah. Carl, to Aaron's amazement, knew some of the Jewish Scriptures and Jewish history, but neither ones translations or interpretations made sense to the other.

       Aaron was perplexed. "How can you, a man of blood, a warrior, be religious?"

       "David was religious."

       "Yes, but Yahweh did not allow him to build the temple because he shed blood as a warrior king and had many evil deeds."

       "That's true," Carl responded. "A warrior is not the person to deal with spiritual things, even though he may be spiritual himself, as David was." It was the first time Carl had thought of David's story from his role as warrior.

       "David consolidated Israel," he said, "but he couldn't be the spiritual leader as well. Now, how is it you, a Jew, can deal among Gentiles?"

       Aaron was embarrassed by the question. Orthodox Jews seldom mixed with Gentiles, even in countries where Gentiles were the majority. They kept to themselves, except for those few who had to contact the unclean Gentiles.

       A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I am one of those among my people who must deal with Gentiles. We work together for mutual benefit, and I am as fair to them as they are to me."

       The last had a double-edged meaning, Carl knew, since Jews were notorious for charging usury to Gentiles when it was forbidden to do so to their own people. On the other hand, the Gentiles among whom they lived and worked thought nothing of cheating a Jew when they might never cheat one of their own tribe.

       "I didn't know there were Jews in Britannia. Is there a large community?"

       Aaron shook his head. "We have come to trade, usually to serve Rome." The tug at his thin lips reflected his disapproval. "I and four other families moved from Iberia. Others eventually will follow."

       He reflected a moment. "Several Jewish traders live in Camulodunum. There is heavy Roman trading there."

       "Do you need to ritually cleanse yourself when you return from a trip like this?" It was a personal question, but one that Carl long had puzzled over, since he had difficulty understanding the exclusivity of the truly orthodox Jew. He knew from experience as an academic that it was difficult to work in two worlds, the world of intellect and empiricism and the religious world of faith and service. In the first a personal God was usually a forbidden topic, except as blasphemy; in the second, the role of reason was often rejected.

       The dual existence gave him endless problems. Now he was having additional problems with the warrior's world of violence and death. He empathized with Aaron, for he, too, had to live in two worlds.

       "I must cleanse myself before entering my house," Aaron replied, "otherwise my entire family will be defiled. It is one of the rituals I must perform after contacting Gentiles."

       "I understand," Carl mused aloud, "but know that your religious exclusion confirms to Gentiles that you consider yourselves better than us. Because we are unclean you consider us a lower kind of people. You do it for religious reasons, but most Gentiles don't understand that. It isn't the cause of Gentile bigotry, but because it's bigotry on your part, it feeds the bigotry that already lives in other men." Even as he spoke the thought crossed his mind. Some Christians do the same, though we have less reason to do so.

       Aaron shrugged his shoulders. It was beyond his ability or desire to change.

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       When he returned to Rebecca and Raphael, Carl told them the news: "We Live in AD19, late in February, if I understood Aaron correctly." He paused for effect, though the reality already had hit them. "That means we live before the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus and almost 600 years before Mohammed."

       Rebecca blanched momentarily, then a worried look came to her face. "That means the church doesn't exist and the saints haven't lived yet!"

       She grew silent, deep in thought. What did God mean by allowing us to be sent to this time? There's no Christ, no Church, no saints. My whole life is turned upside down. Surely, we aren't under the Law! She brightened. "At least there's the Holy Mother. She's already given birth to Jesus, and he was unique from the womb." She paused, a worried look crossing her face. "What does that do to my beliefs? Without the Church there are no traditions!" She was silenced by the implications of her thoughts.

       Raphael, who had turned pale at the news, couldn't hide his frustration and sarcasm. "She isn't the Holy Mother, yet." That thought brought a light to his eyes. If Jesus should die before he begins his ministry then Christianity will never begin, and Islam will dominate the world after Mohammed comes. The light in his eyes disappeared just as rapidly as it appeared. But Jesus will teach and be crucified, and Christianity will have that awful head start over Islam. If there's no Christianity will there even be an Islam? His mind almost went blank at the thought. There's still Judaism. Allah still needs to correct it. It'll be six hundred years before Islam! I'm not Mohammed, I can't proclaim Allah. Why did He put me in this time? What am I supposed to do? Then even his thoughts were silenced.

       Carl was ready to break into their thoughts, to explain that whether Jesus or Mohammed has lived, our God—Jehovah or Allah—still exists, and we can serve Him with whatever light we have.

       But that was too glib. All that I've learned as a Christian is yet to be taught by Jesus and Paul. I live under the law not grace. He shook his head. How can I ignore what I've been taught and have tried to live all these years? I'm not going to sacrifice in a Temple or follow the dietary laws. Aargh! Father, why are we here at this time? Or, is this just the work of man, and we're to make the best of it? Then a terrible thought hit him. Can I even call you Father?"

       Later, when they were alone, Carl and Rebecca continued the discussion.

       "I live before the Church, even before the Christ," she said. "That's unbelievable!"

       "I wonder," Carl said, "if we believe in Jesus as the Christ what that means for how we are supposed to live?"

       "What do you mean?"

       "The early Gentile converts—that's us—were told Jews who had converted that the Gentiles should live like Jews. Paul and Peter disputed that, vigorously, and James the leader of the Jerusalem church agreed, saying only that we have to abstain from food sacrificed to idols, from blood, from strangled flesh, and fornication. Soooo …. are we supposed to live like Jews if we believe in God but there is as yet no risen Christ?

       "You mean we should follow the dietary laws, sacrifices, and the Ten Commandments?"

       "More like 613 commandments," Carl responded with a grimace. "I believe in Jehovah, but I'm not inclined to live like a Jew."

       Rebecca was shocked, and she literally recoiled from his presence. "Do you mean, if that's the only way to worship God, you won't do it?" Her voice was stretched thin at his heresy. Then she recalled some Scripture. "Didn't Paul say something about making himself subject to the Law even though he wasn't subject to it?"

       "Ouch! You have a good memory! But remember, Paul said he would do so to win Jews to Christ. I'm not sure that even if I put myself under the law that Jews would accept me if I preach Jesus.

       "Anyway, despite my 'heresy' I don't think that's the only way to worship God because we know what Jesus said, at least His words in the New Testament, and His words guide my life."

       He gave a rueful twist of the mouth, "At least I try to be guided by them. I can't go back to the Law as a guidepost because Jesus offered grace when I break the Law." He paused, a look of wonderment crossed his face. "I'm beginning to understand the difficulties Aaron faces in a Gentile society. And he wants to observe the Law."

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       Their plans for leaving took on a somber tone, especially for Raphael. Jesus will be crucified in fourteen years, he thought, and the Roman Catholic church will start in three hundred years. I'm the last one, again! But maybe there is a way to change history, something more profound than blowing up an embassy.

       The truth didn't always set one free.