TWO OF LEVI’S SERVANTS were idly chatting when he and Efah approached. One ran to him and asked what he would like. Levi ordered quantities of roast lamb, fresh bread, and his finest wine.
Half an hour later the feast seemed wasted on Efah, who spent more time talking than eating, which did nothing for Levi’s appetite. Finally Levi shoved his plate aside and dismissed the servants.
“You made me look the fool,” Efah said.
“That was not my intent.”
“The decision was mine to make, Levi.”
“Unless the chief publican disagreed with it, and I did. My friend, this seems obvious. We may not have liked what the fishermen said or the way they said it, but they were right, and in the end we will profit more.”
“And if we don’t?”
“Then you will have been right, I will have been humiliated in the eyes of Rome, and all those men will lose their livelihoods.”
“That is my prophecy.”
“Indeed? And you don’t see that if you are right, you will suffer financially?”
“Oh, no, sir. You might. But I won’t. I will succeed you.”
ELEVEN
Ten days into the new arrangement with the local fishermen, Levi made his way to the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee to see if he might be able to determine whether they were wisely using their tax breaks. Around midday his patience was rewarded when Simon and Andrew’s crew came ashore and began processing their catch.
“We’re already doing better!” Simon called out with a wave.
Levi pressed a finger to his lips to remind the man to not speak publicly about their deal. Simon drew closer and spoke in low tones. “See the repaired nets and a few new ones? And see that resealing of the hull? All impossible without your favor. We appreciate it very much.”
“Let us not appear too friendly,” Levi said. “I have a reputation to maintain.”
“Understood. Scold me, yell at me if you must.”
“That will not be necessary. I’ll be on my way now. I was only checking on your progress. You need to vindicate me in the eyes of Rome.”
“We’re doing all we can, sir.”
LEVI ARRIVED BACK at the tax office to find a sealed message from Rome, informing him that Knight Leontius would be arriving in two days. “I am in receipt of your report concerning the arrangement with the fishermen and wish to discuss it in person. There shall be twelve in our party and, as usual, we will plan to lodge and dine with you.”
Levi sat back and sighed, aware Efah was watching him. The seal had not been broken, but it would not have surprised Levi if the man knew what the message said. He was certain something was afoot, though it was also possible that the financial procurator would have sought such a meeting based on Levi’s input alone.
But what more could he have told his superior? What else was there to say? He had recorded virtually every word of the meeting with the two sets of brothers and even noted Efah’s opposition to his decision. But he had also written out all the calculations, showing that the temporary shortfall would result in much heavier profits for all in just a few months.
All he needed was the pomp and ceremony of a visit from Leontius. The man enjoyed being transported about Judea in a four-posted sedan carried by two teams of four servants each, both led and trailed by a Roman soldier in a chariot. Those ten, along with his top aide and the knight himself, would make up the twelve. Why he needed to be transported like a Caesar was beyond Levi, but he was used to the ritual.
There had never been even the hint of a threat on the man’s life. Indeed, the citizenry barely knew who he was or what he did. But with all the pageantry and colors flying, onlookers stopped and gaped as the caravan slowly made its way from the port to Jerusalem and then up to Capernaum. That his scheduled arrival was so soon meant that the knight had already arrived in Israel.
Levi sent a runner to his estate to inform his staff so they would have time to stock up on the finest meat and cheese and wine and bread, plus foodstuffs for the horses. The lodging had to be just so as well, as Leontius preferred a window on one side of his room that greeted the rising sun and one on the other side that allowed him to also watch the sunset.
Levi couldn’t imagine why that was so important, because to his knowledge, based on several previous visits over the past two decades, the man had never seen a sunset. By the time the sun disappeared, Leontius was full-bellied, still drinking, and demanding entertainment. By the time his aide hauled him off to bed, it was well past the midnight watch.
“I’m off to supervise the closing of the markets,” Efah said, throwing his cloak over his shoulders. “Will you want me in attendance when you entertain Rome?”
“I’ll let you know,” Levi said slowly.
“I did not read your message, if that’s what you’re wondering. I just noticed the seal and drew a conclusion. I shall await word of any need for me.”
“Naturally. Tell me, Efah, have you been promised anything yet? Should I begin packing?”
“What? No! Why would you say such a thing? You have just renewed your contract. You would have to be in egregious breach of it to necessitate any such drastic change here.”
“You yourself prophesied you would replace me.”
“Oh, that! You know it was said in anger, in haste. I should like to think I would be your choice to replace you someday, when you have had enough of this.”
Levi waved Efah in and asked him to sit.
“I really must be going.”
“Just a moment,” Levi said.
Efah sat.
“Do you think I’m going to retire like my predecessor? I mean, I just might, but do not forget that you are nearly ten years my senior. You are more likely to quit before I do.”
“Let us be frank,” Efah said. “Neither of us is ready for pasture, and the benefits are too lucrative.”
Levi nodded sadly. He could not argue.
“And yet, you seem to have lost the passion, Levi. Are you growing soft? Do you wish to see the end of this?”
“Are you that eager to take my place? And do you have the resources?”
“Not yet. But perhaps by the end of your current agreement.” Efah leaned as if awaiting permission to stand and leave, and Levi nodded. As the man towered over him, Levi said, “Perhaps that would not be an unwise goal.”
“I should plan for that, then? It is a good thing to know and prepare for.”
“With this stipulation,” Levi said, as Efah hesitated at the door. “I do not want you working behind my back, plotting with Leontius. I have options other than you as my successor, you know. And if you weary me with too much opposition to my decisions, I reserve the right to change my mind.”
THERE HAD BEEN A TIME when Levi actually looked forward to hosting his superior. Leontius always insisted that he enjoyed crowds, and so Levi was instructed to invite his entire staff and their spouses for at least one evening at the estate. This filled his house and grounds for a lavish feast. He had long wondered why his people so seemed to enjoy these bacchanals, only to finally be told that the wives especially liked the novelty of trying to impress royalty—or at least a secondary dignitary.
Levi knew that was his own motivation as well. He had always worked to fulfill Leontius’s every desire and to show well at being a good host. He spared no expense and basked in his superior’s praise. Never before, however, had the knight specifically mentioned a matter of concern he wished to discuss, and so perhaps this visit would be different.
Still Levi assembled his staff and told them of the planned visit, inviting them to a banquet on the second night of Leontius’s stay. No surprise, they seemed excited to get home and tell their wives.
LEVI KNEW to have his entire tax office staff working every thoroughfare the afternoon the knight was expected, with runners and couriers at the ready to get word to him of the progress of the trip. Leontius enjoyed being appropriately welcomed at the tax office on his way to Levi’s estate, where he
expected to be received by the host himself, to have his feet washed, and to be given a cool cup of water. As Leontius’s feet never touched solid ground from the time he disembarked from the ship until he was helped from the covered sedan, first at the tax office and finally at Levi’s, why he needed them washed was beyond his host. But Levi would do his duty.
He gathered citizens outside the tax office to celebrate the knight’s arrival, then rushed ahead to his own home to be there in time for that reception. Every time before, Levi had done this with a certain amount of excitement. He’d had a reason, an aim. He would subject himself to this pompous man as a means to an end. And that end was his own elevation in the eyes of Rome—not because he cared what they thought of him, but so he would be in a better position to take advantage of them.
But by now, in the twilight of his career, Levi had accomplished that and more. He realized that Rome expected publicans, particularly chief publicans, to take as much as they could get away with. As long as the government got enough, that was all they cared about. Besides the fact that all he had garnered for himself had not come even close to avenging his loss, Rome’s effectual complicity in his own scheme tempered any satisfaction he might have gotten from it.
Now the pomposity Leontius embodied so repelled Levi that it was all he could do to fake the least passion for his subservient act. The centurions would bark orders at him and his servants, and he and they would rush about, bowing, scraping, washing, pouring, opening doors, pulling out chairs, laughing at lame jokes, nodding as if interested in every boring story.
The knight always seemed to feel obligated to rehearse his entire trip, from the trek to the ship to every turn of the weather or bout with seasickness and from the port all the way to Capernaum. It rarely changed, nor did anything interesting really happen, but still Levi felt compelled to maintain eye contact and feign wholehearted interest.
This trip proved true to form, and by the time Levi himself had finished drying the man’s feet and sat sipping cold water with him, it was all he could do to keep from falling asleep due to sheer boredom. Finally, to Levi’s great relief, Leontius himself suggested they complete their business before the evening meal.
They moved from Levi’s welcoming parlor to a tile-roofed portico that overlooked his vineyards. Out of the presence of his lackeys, some of Leontius’s haughtiness abated. He lifted his toga and sat, stretching as if the long journey had been tedious, though of course he had not lifted a finger, let alone a foot.
“The Pharisees,” he said at last. “How are they treating you?”
“The usual,” Levi said. “They hate us as they always have. Constantly at the edges of the crowd, yipping at us, berating us. We’d feel neglected if they quit.”
Leontius laughed. “And Efah? Is he still working out for you?”
“Let’s not pretend we’re both unaware of his relationship with me, and with you.”
“With me?” the knight said. “He has no contract with us.”
“But he wants one badly enough to be able to taste it.”
“That shouldn’t threaten you, Levi. You have long been the prime example of a chief publican, leading the way in profits, known throughout Judea—and Rome, naturally—as the toughest negotiator, the fastest recorder, and the best calculator.”
“Did I say Efah’s ambition threatened me?”
“You seemed sensitive about his approach to us.”
“Should I not? That is insubordination, a dismissal-level offense.”
“He worries about you, that’s all. And why shouldn’t he? He tells me you let a farm couple off with the minimum tax. That’s not like you. How do you expect to make a profit and pay your people?”
“What does Rome care about that as long as it gets its share?”
“We got the entirety of that payment, Levi. You must admit it was out of character.”
Levi sighed. “Must we be inhumane, sir? Did Efah also tell you the couple was in mourning?”
“He did. That never got in your way before.”
“Perhaps it should have.”
“So you’re saying you plan to make a habit of this?”
“Of what? Lightening the burden, forgoing my margin for any couple that has recently buried a child? Maybe I will. Rest assured, I will however squeeze from them every shekel you require.”
Leontius slowly turned and looked into Levi’s eyes. “You are bordering on sarcasm and insolence, my friend.”
“I apologize. But let me worry about my own profits. I’m not asking Rome to partner with me in allowing any credit.”
“Not even to the fishermen?”
“Only temporarily, as you know.”
“I do not understand it.”
“Of course you do, sir. You know enough about business to comprehend that a wise investment now can soon pay deep dividends. That is all I am allowing—these men to have some relief from their tax burden in order to improve their business long-term. Surely you see the wisdom in it.”
“You ascribe to yourself wisdom now?”
“Frankly, I always have. I do not apologize for thoroughly giving myself to my craft, and while this latest stratagem may seem unique, it fits my pattern of slowly, carefully, creatively building my business by allowing some of my best accounts to build theirs.”
Leontius sat in silence for a few minutes, and Levi did not feel obligated to say more. Finally the knight shifted his weight and spoke softly. “I need not remind you that you are fresh into your current contract. Like you, I have a superior, and may I say that he is not as reasonable as I. He will not long countenance a drop in income. All that to say, we will be watching. If you are right and in the long run we come out ahead, that will accrue only to the enhancing of your already fine reputation. Short of that, despite your stellar record, I can make no promises.”
“I understand.”
“Now, on to more pleasant topics. When do your guests arrive and what shall I look forward to this evening?”
“Oh, sir, just a sumptuous meal with your staff and me tonight. The celebratory feast in your honor is set for the morrow.”
“Oh! That will not do! Is it too late to get word to your people—and to whoever you have arranged for our entertainment—to favor us this very evening?”
“My apologies, sir. I am afraid it is too late. I had no inkling that you were not able to stay over as you usually do.”
“Admittedly it was a late change of plans. I am to investigate a rabble-rouser, some sort of troublemaker in the Judean wilderness ranting about Herod Antipas and what he calls his seduction of Herodias, the wife of one of his half brothers.”
Levi smiled. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
“Well, everyone knows that,” Leontius said, “but sane people don’t rush about criticizing the king.”
“This madman is not the first and will not be the last. Is anyone taking him seriously?”
“Oh, he has quite a following, despite that he dresses like a wild animal and claims he is preparing the way of the Messiah.”
“The Messiah again.”
“Say, you were the son of a priest, were you not?”
“I was the son of a tanner.”
“But your name . . .”
“Yes, they wanted me to become a priest. I preferred, shall we say, a more comfortable living.”
“Well this man, who goes by John, is the son of a priest. Can you imagine the family’s shame?”
“Oh, believe me, Leontius, they are likely quite proud of him. The religious leaders are as upset with the king and his wife as any of the populace are.”
Leontius stood. “I am growing hungry.”
“We’ll eat within the hour, sir.”
“Good. It will be an early evening for me tonight, as I leave at first light tomorrow to see if I can join the throngs who clamor to hear this insurrectionist.”
“Will he not temper his opinions if he sees a Roman dignitary in the crowd?”
They began walking
back inside. “Quite the contrary, I understand. I am told I should expect to be called down, challenged to speak for Rome in denouncing the king and his immorality. Imagine.”
TWELVE
Levi was not surprised to learn, just a few days after Leontius’s departure, that the madman John had been arrested and thrown into prison. What did he expect? The son of a priest, indeed, prophesying about the coming Messiah. Didn’t he realize that the king’s own father, Herod the Great, had likely taken the life of the Christ shortly after he was born some thirty years before?
Stories began circulating of the man in prison and what he had been preaching, but Levi gave the matter little more thought until he received word from his brother James that he wished to come and visit him again soon.
“I wish to speak with you about the condemned man,” his brother wrote. “I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”
It was unusual that James would visit again so soon, but what might he possibly have to say about this John? Had he seen the man, heard him, met him? From what little he knew of his own brother, James was a steady, most levelheaded scholar. Surely he wasn’t becoming a rumormonger, especially not about a mischief maker.
During the days he waited for James to arrive, Levi found himself listening to more and more of the talk about what might become of the man who had been preaching and baptizing hundreds in the Jordan. Something about him had proved appealing to the masses. Could there be any shred of credibility to this baptizer?
James’s arrival—he was carrying his simple sack over his shoulder and walking a donkey—was in such contrast to Leontius’s grand entrance that Levi had to smile at the memory of it. How nice to have a normal person visit, a man just as happy with a piece of grilled fish, a crust of bread, and a cup of wine, one on whom all the flurry of meats and entertainment would be lost. Levi found himself warmer and more forthcoming with his brother than he had ever been. He was genuinely curious about the man and his life, an entirely new interest on his part.