Chapter 24

The strong and steady northerly breeze that had shortened the voyage of The Vestris from Gaza to Joppa continued unabated, to the considerable delay of the return trip.

Captain Fulvius, whose detestation was labour that wasn’t strictly necessary, had sailed in light ballast, and The Vestris had frisked about in a manner unsuitable to her age and decrepitude. The voyage had been tiresome beyond description for everybody but Voldi, who was in no hurry to make port anywhere, though the Captain and the Proconsul were of the opinion that only a perfunctory investigation, if any, would be made into the assassination of Herod Antipas.

To make sure, however, that Voldi was not apprehended, an action that might disturb the ever-delicate political relations of Jewry and Arabia, it had been decided that Voldi was to remain under cover during the stop at Gaza and proceed on The Vestris to Rome. He could return to Arabia when the sensation caused by the Tetrarch’s death had ceased to be of interest.

It had been the hope of Mencius and Fulvius that the salt-caravan from Engedi might have arrived by the time The Vestris tardily waddled to her berth in the dirty old city, but they were disappointed. Of course almost anything might have happened to delay that slow-plodding, heavily-laden procession. The weather was cruelly hot, requiring longer and more frequent periods of rest for the camels. You couldn’t hustle a camel, either by appealing to his moral obligation to serve the Empire with all his heart, mind, and strength, or even by the more practical method of beating his rump with a club. When a camel decided that he had done his day’s work he sat down, right where he was, and no amount of flattering cajolery or forthright brutality would alter his resolution to adjourn. Mencius and Fulvius knew, from experience, that they might have to wait another fortnight.

As for Voldi, his confinement on the ship, as the empty days and hot nights dragged out their length in the suffocating stench of Gaza’s waterfront, was almost more than he could bear. He had promised to remain on board at the insistence of men who had befriended him at no little risk. It was not only that they didn’t want him to get into trouble; they didn’t want to get into trouble themselves for harbouring a fugitive.

But after a week had passed, the Arabian’s impatience boiled over. He had had time to do much thinking and most of it concerned Fara. Now that Jesus was dead and there was nothing more that she could do for him, where would she go? Surely not to Galilee to be dependent upon the fisherfolk. In her loneliness, was it not likely that she would want to return to Ione? Now that she was adrift, perhaps Fara would listen to reason. Voldi felt confident that she loved him. This might be the time to present his case with some hope of success.

Mencius sympathetically heard him out, and Fulvius too agreed that if the authorities had suspected he was sailing in The Vestris they would have had ample time to pursue the ship by land and arrest him. After some debate it was decided that Voldi might leave without much risk to any of them, which he did forthwith, it being then two hours past midday, when all Gaza had crept into the shade to sleep. At the last minute, Mencius impulsively announced that he would accompany him for a few miles. Brutus needed exercise.