Chapter 14
by Douglas, Lloyd C.It was the young Roman’s turn to be amused.
‘Don’t let that bother you! Important aliens in Caesarea always come in for a lot of oversight. But I’m not a policeman; and, personally, I don’t care a damn where you go or what you are up to…I thought you might like to take a ride with me into the country, just to kill time.’
‘With pleasure!’ Voldi brightened at the prospect. ‘Perhaps I should tell you that I’m not supposed to leave the city by any of the northerly routes.’
Felix nodded in a manner indicating that he knew all about it.
‘You’re suspected of a hankering to make the acquaintance of the Tetrarch of Galilee. My father wonders why—and so do I. Antipas is a cad, you know; a noisy, vain, arrogant old pretender. I’m sure you wouldn’t like him.’ The Roman’s eyes twinkled through this ironical speech, inviting the Arab to commit himself, but Voldi made no sign of understanding. The friendly son of the Prefect might not be a policeman, but this was no time to risk a confidence.
‘Perhaps not,’ replied Voldi indifferently. ‘One can’t be expected to like everybody.’
Felix chuckled over this forthright evasion.
‘You win!’ he said. ‘Let’s go for the ride. It’s clearing off a little. I’ll promise not to badger you about Antipas…And when you meet him, you may slit his throat—with my blessing.’
The Prefect’s home was only a short way away. Leading Darik, they walked to Sergius’ commodious stables and a groom brought out a beautiful young sorrel mare. Felix ran his fingers under the saddle girths. Voldi liked that. It was commonly believed in Arabia that the Romans were careless about the comfort of their horses. Felix cared.
‘I dare say you’ve noticed that this filly is an Arabian,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ replied Voldi. ‘I know her family. You probably bought her in Damascus.’
‘My father did.’ They mounted and rode toward the avenue. ‘I’m told that you Arabians used to market your select stock, on a certain day, in Jerusalem; but—not any more.’
‘We have lately resumed attendance at the camel-auction in Jerusalem—on the Jewish Day of Pentecost,’ explained Voldi. ‘But the horses still go to Damascus.’
‘And why is that?’ Felix wanted to know.