AFTER GIVING ORDERS TO his second in command, Primo hurried back to his tent, where the secretary had been waiting impatiently. "I suggest you leave at once," Primo said. "The temple guard is coming and they might mistake you for one of those out there."
The Babylonian raised his big nose and said, "You saw the armed guards who accompany me everywhere I go. A necessary precaution in my line of work, as I carry important documents, and sometimes money. They will ride ahead of me and identify me to the priests. I am known to all of them, as I enjoy a wide reputation in the city. They will let me pass unmolested. Have you anything to add to your missive before I take my leave?"
Ignoring the man's disdain, Primo dictated an addendum to his report: "A new development, esteemed Quintus. So severely is my master held in thrall by the witch that we depart at once for Judea to rescue a treasure belonging to the enemies of Rome. This is not treason, my lord, for my master is hypnotized by the witch and knows not his own actions."
The Roman communications network was a swift and efficient system, with riders speeding along roads for which Roman engineers were so famous. The riders took fast, strong horses and galloped from outpost to outpost, in a vast relay race, bearing news, dispatches, and letters for important citizens from the emperor on down. Primo knew his report would reach Nero long before Sebastianus did. The emperor and his guards would be waiting for him and, with great luck and the power of Mithras, arrest the girl instead of his master.
As for Primo himself, he had one last important mission to carry out. In a final effort to rescue his master from committing treason, Primo would see to it that he found the insurgents Rachel and Jacob first, and kill them before Sebastianus could reach them.
"MASTER!" CAME A SHOUT IN THE NIGHT. Sebastianus and Ulrika turned to see Timonides running toward them, his white robes ghostly in the moonlight. He flung an arm behind himself. "Master! The priests and guards are coming. Oh master, there are hundreds of them!"
Sebastianus climbed onto the highest pile of blocks that had fallen from Daniel's Castle long ago, and from this vantage point saw an astonishing sight: a line of blazing torches winding along the highway, like a river of molten lava. Hundreds of guards indeed, Sebastianus thought in alarm. All on horseback. All carrying javelins and spears.
They come for a slaughter.
Returning to Ulrika and Timonides, he said quietly, "I underestimated the High Priest. I believe he is coming not to negotiate but to make an example of these people for the citizens of Babylon. We have to keep everyone calm. Keep them back here behind the ruins. Primo and I will stand and fight. Perhaps the High Priest will be satisfied with a few."
Ulrika took her place at Sebastianus's side as they watched the river of fire advance upon the ruins. Behind her, she heard the murmured prayers of hundreds of terrified people. Primo stood at the ready with his soldiers, weapons drawn. The wind whistled across the desert.
So many lives at stake! There had to be a way to save all these people.
Ulrika turned her face into the wind, closed her eyes, and drew in a slow breath. Reaching out, she placed her hand on the cold stone wall of the "castle" and she thought: If there is indeed a tomb under these ruins, is it large enough to hold all these people? If not all, then at least the children, the sick. And if it is a tomb, then perhaps it would be taboo for the temple guards to walk here, like the shaman's cave in the Rhineland which the German warriors avoided.
Drawing in a purifying breath, Ulrika closed her eyes and envisioned her inner soul flame. Spirit of this place, she silently prayed, I beseech thee for thy help.
She waited for a vision. When none came, she increased her concentration, focusing on the quivering soul flame, and with her free hand took hold of the scallop shell on her breast. Once again, she sent out her prayer.
But nothing happened, and panic began to steal over her. Her mouth ran dry and her palms grew moist. She had used the meditation successfully to the benefit of others—but only for individuals. Now that there were hundreds of souls in danger, would she have the power to use her gift? Or did it only work for one person at a time?
Realizing that her heart was racing—and that the temple guards were drawing closer—she redoubled her efforts. If this truly was the burial place of the Prophet Daniel, then it was sacred ground. This was her calling. This was what she was born to do. She must not panic. She must not let fear overcome her inner powers.
One by one she closed down her senses—turning deaf to the desperate prayers of hundreds of people, turning blind to the glowing torches coming up from the desert, turning numb to the feel of the wind and the cold on her skin, until all she was aware of was the rock beneath her fingers.
Again she opened herself, set her soul free, and begged the sacred being of this place to give her a sign.
Finally her spirit moved—through the solid rock and ancient dust, and across the timeless years—until she felt it touch something.
Ulrika frowned. Something was there, just in front of her and yet, unlike with previous visions, she saw only darkness. Why was her inner sight being blocked?
No, not blocked. The darkness itself is the vision.
Now she smelled a stale mustiness, felt rubble and gravel beneath her sandals, saw long corridors with dim lights at the end, heard the clanking of armor and the tramping of feet. And knowledge flooded her mind ...
"Sebastianus!" she cried suddenly. "Before this was a tomb, it was a military outpost!"
He turned to her. "What?"
"This citadel was built hundreds of years ago as a primary defense against invaders from the south," she said, as knowledge filled her head. "The king sent his soldiers here to stage surprise attacks. Sebastianus, there are tunnels beneath us, and they lead to an oasis a mile from here, to the north! If I can just find—"Placing her other hand on the rough stones, she felt along the cold walls of the ruins. Her hand slipped inside a crevice. "Here!"
Sebastianus called for Primo and several strong men with spears. Working in torchlight, while lookouts kept an eye on the approaching guards from the city, they rammed the shafts into the crevice and, pulling back with all their might, levered one of the stone blocks so that it slipped away.
A rush of stale air blew in their faces. Taking a torch, Sebastianus slipped it in and looked around. Stone steps, dusty and littered with pebbles, descended into darkness.
"It can be done," he said, "but we must hurry. If they catch us at this, they will pursue. Primo, you will go down first and light the way."
"But you send us into a tomb, master!"
"Ulrika says the tunnel is clear."
Primo scowled. He would rather stand and fight like a man than die like a rat trapped in a sewer. But he would obey.
"The children and the elderly and the lame are to be carried," Sebastianus said. "Anyone who will hinder our escape. Primo, take several torches and place them along the way as you go, for those behind you."