The Betrayal by Kathleen O’Neal Gear Read Free Book Online Page B

relatives.” Mattias spat in disgust.
    Titus shifted on his horse to glare back at the man.
    Yosef patiently explained, “His relatives did not want the body, Titus. They thought him mad. They cast him aside many years ago. There was no one else. If I had not pleaded for the right to give him an honorable burial, his body would have been left out for days to be devoured by jackals and vultures. I could not have borne it.” 19
    â€œNevertheless, I do not understand why you place yourself in such peril. If they discover—”
    â€œThese are the Last Times, the last hours,” the young man in white interrupted. “The Kingdom of God is almost upon us. We must all accept the utmost peril.”
    Titus acted as though he had not heard. He continued. “Master, this is exactly what the Romans feared. If they discover what you’ve done—”
    â€œThey will discover it, Titus. You may be sure of that,” Yosef said in a tired voice. “And as to why … I believed him.”
    For several moments, Titus remained silent, riding along with his brow furrowed. Then he murmured, “I did not suspect that.”
    Yosef smiled sadly. He had surprised even himself in that regard. Over the past year, his longing for the Kingdom had become a physical ache, a torment that no worldly comfort could ease. “You mean because I am a member of the supreme Council of Seventy-one? 20 I think even the great teacher, Naqdimon, believed, though he never said so.”
    With each breath of wind, the fragrances of myrrh and aloe rose from the Pearl, wrapped in a linen shroud and bound to the packhorse. The perfumes were so powerful, they seemed to surround and penetrate him like the Holy Spirit herself. Naqdimon had provided the lavish spices—surely the act of a believer, if not a disciple—and then Maryam alone had carefully, secretly, bound the Pearl in its linen disguise.

    As they climbed higher, Mount Ebal, to the north, seemed to rise with them. Yosef looked down into the valley that lay between mounts Ebal and Gerizim. Oil lamps glittered in many homes, making the valley resemble a gigantic overturned jewel box. A few lamps even glowed amid the tumbled stones of the ancient ruined city of Shekem.
    They rounded a bend in the trail and the olive trees vanished, giving way to a forest of tall pines, where the air grew cool and crisp.
    Yosef drew his fringed cloak more tightly about his shoulders. In the star gleam, the golden threads woven into the fine linen fabric, dyed with costly indigo, shimmered. The cloak was a symbol of wealth and status, a sign of the high position he’d held in the council. Tonight, when all was said and done, he would give it to one more deserving, along with anything else that might identify him. He looked down at his empty first finger, where that morning there had been a large golden ring bearing the pomegranate design of his family. It had belonged to his great-grandfather. All his life, Yosef had used that ring to make an imprint on wax that acted as a legal seal for letters and documents. He had cherished it. Now, it encircled the finger of a dead man. A small gift, no bigger than a mustard seed in the grand scheme of things, but it had been the best he could offer.
    He rubbed his aching eyes and lifted his gaze to the craggy tor of Mount Gerizim. As the night deepened, it appeared to be a huge black tooth embedded in the deep blue belly of the sky. Clouds clung to the western slope, trailing streamers of rain. Before the third hour of night they’d be in the middle of the downpour.
    â€œDo you believe it, Titus?” he asked softly. “Do you believe what Maryam said about this mountain?”
    Titus’ gaze drifted over the rain clouds, assessing the storm, and finally came to rest on the crag. “This mountain has always been known among my people as the tabbur ha’ares, ‘center of the land,’ the one place where