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| Christ Refused The emperor was an asshole but there was a job to do. There was pride in clanking around in armor, the scabbard bumping thigh with every stride, a reassuring presence. Some of the guys liked it more than others. The most gung-ho, the ones who drove the nails, never got promoted. They were too valuable in that role and too bloodthirsty to put in charge of anybody but the next convict. The officers saw through the ruse but accepted it. Their place in Empire was safest of all. There was always someone above to obey, it didn't matter who, and if the regime changed there'd still be plenty for good soldiers to do, all sorts of orders to execute. Blameless, immaculate, one didn't even have to watch the nails go in; most captains, myself included, would casually turn away and daydream about their next lay. There was a certain protocol, the prisoner's name checked against The List. When I saw where this One was from it took me back to younger days when I knew a girl in Galilee. But orders are orders and I nodded to the guards. He seemed quite content shaving the wood and I intervened when Guard #I lifted his whip to make Him go faster. I wanted to watch those practiced hands work and anyway the duty roster was clear for the afternoon. He notched and fitted the crossbeam snug and smiled to Himself. He ran a hand along the joint and I swore I felt the smooth grain in my fingertips. It was tight and right and I thought to myself, "What a waste of talent." The trouble began when he refused to dig the hole for the crucifix to stand up in. The guard grabbed Him but as soon as their skin touched the centurion went soft. Guard II tried, too, and now there were two hardened soldiers standing mute and motionless as men who've survived being struck by lightning. I sent a runner for cavalry as a circle of infantry closed in on Him. Surrounded on all sides, he picked up the cross at its base and swung it round to keep them at bay. It was a miracle. The soldiers fell to their knees, awed by this display of superhuman strength. He was walking away when two horses arrived and charged down hard upon Him. But before they could trample He lifted His hand and they were soothed. He touched the ankle of one rider and he slipped from the saddle the way fat slides off a spit. Then He mounted easily, unlike any civilian I've seen, and let the horse lead the way. The other horseman was dumbstruck so I roughly commandeered his stallion. I followed closely--not in pursuit but to see what wonderful thing He might do next. I relinquished my sword, abandoned my post, and kissed my pension goodbye. Wouldn't you? |