Then, a little after the middle of one day, there in the distance were the roofs of Jerusalem. He called for Vibius and ordered him to have the men camp in the usual spot outside the city, not on religious ground, then he ordered the decurio and six men from the first turma of cavalry to accompany him as he rode into the city.
The first call, not unnaturally, was to the Tribune of the cohort stationed there, where he requested directions to the religious head. That would be the Temple, he was told, but he should not enter.
Gaius rode towards the entrance to the Temple, dismounted well in advance of reaching it, instructed the decurio to look after his horse, then he marched towards the Temple gate. The sight he saw amazed him. Everywhere there was commerce. To the right were animals, awaiting the butchers further in. Blood and dust somehow did not seem deeply religious.
A young, clearly nervous young priest approached him. Gaius smiled inwardly as he recognized what the priest must be thinking: blasphemers must not defile the Temple, but the Roman army was not the easiest organization to halt. "Can I help you?"
"I wish to speak with Jonathon," Gaius explained. Jonathon was Caiaphas' replacement. "If you wish, I shall wait here, or anywhere else you feel suitable."
"There's a seat over by the tree," the young priest said, pointing to a tree in what could best be described as a forecourt away from the Temple.
"I shall wait," Gaius nodded. He walked to the seat, sat down, and watched activities. Processions of Jews came and went, and Gaius smiled as some almost seemed to wish to conceal what they were carrying from him.
He had to wait and wait. Presumably this Jonathon was trying to make a point. It was a point that might be remembered one day. Then he saw his young priest, with a stubby man with enormous robes embroidered with gold, and a grey voluminous beard. The young priest pointed. Gaius sat where he was, and took a little perverse satisfaction from the ill look on Jonathon's face as he finally decided he had to walk over.
"I am Jonathon," the older priest nodded, as he dismissed the younger man.
"I am Gaius Claudius Scaevola, Tribune of the first cohort of the Fulminata." Gaius said softly. "I have come here to inform you that I have two cohorts that are marching through Judea. They are not here for any particular reason, other than as an exercise, and I intend to keep them away from any place that you nominate as unsuitable."
"The vicinity of this Temple is very unsuitable," Jonathon started.
"And the men are camped outside Jerusalem," Gaius countered.
"I see," came the tired response. "What do you want?"
"I want to avoid a confrontation with undesirable consequences."
"I shall see that the word is passed on, and if you give me the route you intend to take."
Gaius quietly outlined the route, and how long he would be in any place, subject to supplies being available for purchase.
"I shall ensure that people who might wish to sell you supplies know of your route," Jonathon said, then added, "but what do you want?"
"I have told you," Gaius said quietly as he stood up. "There are no hidden agendas. I want you to let the Jewish people know that as long as we are left undisturbed, so shall they be." He then nodded, and turned to walk away, leaving an expression of almost disbelief on Jonathon's face. Yes, he thought to himself, Jonathon had expected to have to pay for peace and quiet, an observation that should be stored away for future reference.
* * *
To general consternation amongst the troops, they broke camp as soon as further supplies could be arranged. While the men wanted to drink Jerusalem dry, the last thing Gaius needed was some religious riot induced by drunken legionnaires, nor did he wish to see a drunken brawl between his men and the auxiliaries of the local cohorts. The heavy infantry thought of themselves as Romans, although only a few were, and they spoke Latin. Most of the auxiliaries were Greek, and it would be too much to expect that there would be no boasting, no challenges, and sooner or later, no punch-ups.
Gaius had spoken to his troops. There was no doubt they were better than the auxiliaries, (the men's eyes lit up) so there would be no need to prove it (understanding struck). There would be no drunken brawls. That was a direct order. There had been, he understood, some discussion amongst the troops as to whether he was a soft touch on discipline. Break this order and find out! Claudians had a reputation for being a little on the rigorous side when it was time for punishment, and he was not about to let the reputation of the gens down. That had had some effect. The men knew about the fear Tiberius had spread around, and word of Little Boots was also spreading. While the Tribune was clearly on a far lower level, there was only one side who would suffer if he went a little overboard when punishing a soldier who had clearly disobeyed orders.
The men ceased making the occasional grumble an hour after Jerusalem had passed from view. They passed through dusty village after dusty village. Gaius read reports about the local conditions, but there was nothing that required attention. The Jews were unhappy, but they went on with their lives. From Gaius' point of view, unless someone did something that was clearly unacceptable, he would do nothing. As it happened, this was Vibius' general policy when he had been sent here previously. Gaius rather felt that Vibius was hoping he would make a fool of himself by being over-active, but he said nothing.
As the days passed, it was clear that Vibius seemed to know what he was doing. It then occurred to Gaius that as commander, he was getting the credit, not that there was much credit to take. Roman forces had marched up and down Judea without getting lost or starting a rebellion, which was exactly what everyone expected to happen. They had trudged through dusty town after dusty town, receiving the standard surly looks, and that was also exactly what everyone expected. While it was good that nothing had happened, it was not the stuff with which to build reputations on. From Vibius' point of view, he, Vibius, had kept Gaius out of trouble.
Then, with the mission almost over, Vibius made a suggestion that would provide Gaius with enough rope to hang himself: if the two cohorts separated, they would show the presence of Rome in twice the number of smaller towns. Gaius had agreed.
A week had passed and so far, Gaius smiled to himself, nothing had gone wrong, and the expedition was nearly over. Tomorrow they would reassemble to march back to Syria. In the meantime, here was one last town.
As throughout the area, it was dusty, with buildings made of mud-brick, and some better ones made of stone. The streets were narrow, scruffy children were playing their usual games and. . Gaius looked more closely. The usual scruffy children were not playing. In fact, there was not a scruffy child in sight. In the distance was a large building, presumably the temple, and outside it a lot of rather noisy people had gathered. Gaius signalled to the cavalry decurion.
"Get one of your more experienced men to ride down there and see what's going on," he ordered. "If there's no sign of trouble, he should just keep going, quietly. If there's trouble, he's to ride back this way. If it's not an emergency, he's not to look urgent. If I see him come back, I'll know the message, and I'll tell how immediate it is by how fast he comes back."