Judas: The Gospel of Betrayal by Frederick Ramsay

Author:Frederick Ramsay [Ramsay, Frederick]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Historical Fiction
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Published: 2007-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-two

The men worked their way through the crowd toward me. I quickened my steps, dodged down a side street, cut though a shop, and dashed out its back door and into an adjoining street. I pressed against a wall in the shadow of some hanging carpets and waited—no one. I eased back onto the street and retraced my steps. They burst through a doorway ten paces in front of me. I dashed off again. They closed in. I increased my efforts to lose them, wiggling through the mass of humanity crowding the street. Either they knew these streets very well or they were experts at tracking. I picked up the pace, but these were determined men and I did not dare run. That would have been the surest way to lose them, but running in the streets of Jerusalem on a High Holy Day would attract the notice of every Roman soldier in my path. If any one of my pursuers were to yell “murderer,” I would be done for. Of course, any inappropriate move on their part and they might feel the heavy hand of a legionnaire as well. Realizing then, that what works against me also works for me, I turned to face them.

Three men pulled up in front of me. One stepped forward, a fat man, heavy from too much good living and not enough sweating. He stretched out his arm, palm toward me. They did not look like the stony men who pursued me before, my nemeses. So who were these men? The fat one removed a perfumed linen cloth from his sleeve and wiped his brow. Only soft Pharisees seemed to have them, or something else, up their sleeve, not hard men, not men from Athens.

“We would have a word with you.” the fat one said, panting.

We stepped out of the crowd and into a small space between two shops.

“We have listened with great attentiveness to your master’s teaching, and we are impressed. Some even say he is the Messiah, do they not?”

I did not trust these men. They seemed too well turned out to be genuinely interested in Jesus. But I could see no harm in agreeing with such an open remark. I shrugged and waited.

“You are Judas, sometimes known as Iscariot. You have been a follower of Jesus of Nazareth, his trusted disciple. We know this and that is why we sought you out.” He paused, letting that sink in.

“He trusts all his friends.”

“Perhaps, but only you are trusted with the purse. Only you may be found far away from the others when there are important negotiations to be made and tasks to be done. We could easily have approached any of the others, but because of your special position, we thought it best to come to you.”

I said nothing.

“Let me speak plainly,” he continued, with a quick, worried glance over his shoulder. “We represent a small but growing number of men in Jerusalem and elsewhere who also seek the Messiah. We have studied the prophets and are certain that the time is near for the Lord to act.

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