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"What became of that Procurator?"

Panthera shrugged."He was recalled to Rome when some people complained about him to the Emperor. You know how things are. Under the Empire, anyone who gets into a position of authority at once becomes the object of plots, conspiracies, and complaints, whether he has done anything wrong or not.

"Anyway, Pilatus survived until Emperor Tiberius died and Gaius, the crazy one, succeeded him. During that character's reign, Pilatus killed himself—though whether the mad Emperor ordered him to do so, or whether he simply got tired of life in imperial Rome, where everybody's hand is out for a bribe, I know not."

"What became of this Miriam?"

Panthera shrugged again."No contact for many years. Twenty-odd years ago, I was quite besotted with her. I said I'd support her as my concubine until my hitch ended, and then I would legally marry her.

"You know, I suppose, that the divine Augustus ordained that soldiers may not marry during active service. The reasons they give for the law, such as the fact that soldiers can be ordered anywhere in the Empire, you probably know. But for individuals it can become damned inconvenient. One can for a small bribe, however, usually find a centurion willing to let the soldier and his woman go through some little local barbarian rite of marriage.

"I had just been promoted to optio, but even the extra pay didn't convince Miriam. No, the real objection was that I was of the goyim, the non-Jewish nations. A proper Jew looks down upon all such people much as we Greeks look down upon all non-Greeks as barbarians. Living in sin with a real Jew would have been bad enough; but with a "gentile" it was out of the question.

"I even looked into the possibility of becoming a Jew myself. But I should have had to spend endless hours studying their hairsplitting laws under one of their teachers, follow their complicated dietary rules, and undergo that disgusting mutilation of my personal parts that they insist on. Besides, since I couldn't prove direct descent from Abraham, it would have made me only a second-class Jew and would have interfered with my military duties. So my centurion would never have allowed it.

"So there we were. When we parted finally, she said she really loved me, too; but the obstacles were imposed by their irascible god, Yahveh, and there was nothing to be done about it. She was going to Egypt, taking our little son with her, for she had heard that well-born Egyptian women don't go in for swarms of slaves the way Romans do. They will hire people like her, poor free women, as housekeepers, to sweep and clean and make the beds and mind the children and wash the dishes. Besides, the city she was going to had a substantial Jewish settlement, with a temple and all. So that was that."

The centurion gave me a funny little crooked smile."I sometimes wonder what would have happened if Miriam had remained in Judaea. I should have been—I suppose you might say—the stepfather of a demigod. It would be interesting to find out, but of course it's too late for that.

"I wonder, too, what would have happened if the Sixth had still been stationed in Judaea when young Yeshua and his mother came back from Egypt. I might have come to know the lad, and perhaps I could have steered him away from some of his impractical notions.

"Then again, perhaps not. You know how young men are, sure they know everything and that nothing a man of the older generation has to say could have anything to do with the real world of their own time.

"It might not have been so impossible if he had had a real, civilized education. But his upbringing had been narrowly Jewish. I'd wager he thought the world was flat and that he had never even heard of people like Aristotle and Demokritos, who investigated the world to find out how it actually worked."

"What of that carpenter Miriam was betrothed to before she took up with you?"

"I daresay he's long dead. He was a widower, old enough to be Miriam's father, with a houseful of children by his first wife. Needless to say, they would not have been friendly to me, or to young Yeshua either—though I believe that, after Yeshua's execution, one of that family, a certain Yakov, was converted to Yeshua's following and became a leader of the Jerusalem faction of the sect.

"This was not only after Yeshua's death, but also after that Jew from Tarsus, who Romanized his name to Paulus, went around preaching a complicated new theology to support the Yeshuites, or as they are now called, Christians, meaning followers of the Anointed One.

"This Paulus voyaged all over the Inner Sea, they say, carrying his message and starting up little groups of Christians in the cities he visited. He must have been a man of extraordinary energy and magnetic personality, though I confess the logic of his complex theology escapes me. But then, it seems likely that it would also escape anyone brought up on Aristotle, as I was. So I am sure these Christians will prove just one more little sect, which will soon fade away and be forgotten.

"Now tell me more about Maesius' business. I really should not talk so much about my personal affairs. The barbarians say that the Greek national vice is not sodomy but garrulity.

"But about Maesius' business: you understand, of course, that I would not sign any hard-and-fast agreement on the basis of a conversation in a wine bar. I shall want to look around for other possibilities first."

Panthera was evidently a cautious fellow, which made him a likely partner for Maesius. The importer was getting old and did not have a son to break in to the business. After another hour, with the help of Herondas' wine, we had pretty much roughed out an agreement, provided that I could sell the idea to Maesius. He would of course want to meet Panthera himself before committing himself to anything.

And that, essentially, is how I came to be the factor for the partnership of Maesius and Panthera. When Maesius dies, Panthera has promised me his place. When the centurion became a full partner, he asked me not to discuss the tale of him and Miriam, on the ground that it would be bad for business.

"I've dealt with religious enthusiasts," he told me."One thing I do know is that it does no good whatever to argue with them, no matter what evidence you adduce. They will brush it aside and sometimes go for you with a dagger, to punish you for casting slights on their sacred beliefs. If they kill you, Christians are sure the world is about to end any day now—certainly before Roman law could bring you to book. So what have they to lose?

"Can you imagine what it would do to the trade, with a squad of pious Jews screaming "Heretics!" at a squad of Christians, who scream back: "Unbelievers! Atheists!" Then someone starts picking up our merchandise and throwing it..."