Read Online Poisoned Honey: A Story of Mary Magdalene by Beatrice Gormley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Beatrice Gormley
Tags: Historical, Young Adult
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he was afraid that the man
was
James. What if James, too, shunned his brother the toll collector? That would be too painful to bear.
That very day, Matthew visited Bethsaida-Julias, where his father’s contact lived, and brought back a team of tollgate guards. As soon as the travelers caught sight of these cold-eyed men with heavy sticks in their belts, they changed their minds about ducking the toll. Matthew imagined Alphaeus saying, Didn’t I tell you?
On the second day, a caravan of merchants tried to go around the gate, perhaps thinking there were enough of them to brave the guards. But the moment the first camel was led off the highway, the guards jumped on the caravan with cudgels swinging. In a few swift, brutal moments, the camel stumbled, its left front leg broken, and the driver writhed on the ground beside it with a bleeding head.
Matthew turned away, sickened, and noticed the beggars at the gate. They were watching. The beggars were maimed, crippled, deformed, and clothed in filthy rags—but they stared at the toll collector with pure contempt.
Matthew started to call the guards off. Then he thought, Isn’t this what I hired them for? He went back to taking tolls.
Clearly, the guards were accomplishing what he’d hoped, because there were no more toll-evasion incidents that day. Word of the new toll collector and his new policy must have traveled up and down the highway. Matthew avoided meeting the stares of the travelers, but he felt their hatred, like gravel flicking his skin.
Matthew had to give the guards room and board in addition to their wages, but he decided it was just as well to have them on his grounds. He needed bodyguards to protect himself and his strongbox, as well as the valuable furnishings of his villa, from thieves.
So Matthew’s new life fell into a routine. Every morningat dawn, he and the guards arrived at the tollgate with his brassbound collection chest. No one traveled at night, but caravans always got up at first light for a day of travel. Therefore, Matthew needed to be in place early to inspect baggage and take the tolls.
With guards controlling the traffic, Matthew could do his job. That, like Alphaeus’s job at the Magdala harbor, was to check each merchant’s cargo and assess its value. He was staggered by the wealth in some caravans: eastern silks and spices from Damascus, or the precious purple dye of Tyre from the west. After collecting the standard percentage for the Roman Empire, he could demand whatever he wanted for himself.
Matthew didn’t have any qualms about taking money from these prosperous merchants. He had a good sense of how large a surcharge they’d bear. As Alphaeus had always taught his sons, set it high enough so that they hate you, but not so outrageous that they actually try to make trouble.
Matthew’s problems came with smaller traders, such as a lone potter with his donkey almost hidden under a burden of bowls and jars. “Sir,” he pleaded with Matthew, “if I pay what you ask, I can’t make a profit from selling my pottery. Sir, I have five young children and an old, sick father at home. How will I feed them if you don’t have pity on me?”
As Matthew hesitated, the traveler next in line spoke up. “That’s a good story,” he jeered. “Or is it five old, sick children and a young father at home?”
Matthew remembered Alphaeus’s words: If they think you might let them get away with paying less, or paying late, they’ll give you all kinds of trouble. Everyone within earshot was listening for his answer—the potter, the travelers behind him, the hired guards. This was no time to be weak.
“Pay up,” Matthew barked. He kept his eyes on the coins dropping into his hand, but he saw the man’s shoulders sag as he led his donkey through the gate.
EIGHT
LIKE QUEEN ESTHER
Although Alexandros had refused to take my vision of Miryam seriously, I chose to believe that he’d granted me the forty days I’d asked for. In any case,
was
James. What if James, too, shunned his brother the toll collector? That would be too painful to bear.
That very day, Matthew visited Bethsaida-Julias, where his father’s contact lived, and brought back a team of tollgate guards. As soon as the travelers caught sight of these cold-eyed men with heavy sticks in their belts, they changed their minds about ducking the toll. Matthew imagined Alphaeus saying, Didn’t I tell you?
On the second day, a caravan of merchants tried to go around the gate, perhaps thinking there were enough of them to brave the guards. But the moment the first camel was led off the highway, the guards jumped on the caravan with cudgels swinging. In a few swift, brutal moments, the camel stumbled, its left front leg broken, and the driver writhed on the ground beside it with a bleeding head.
Matthew turned away, sickened, and noticed the beggars at the gate. They were watching. The beggars were maimed, crippled, deformed, and clothed in filthy rags—but they stared at the toll collector with pure contempt.
Matthew started to call the guards off. Then he thought, Isn’t this what I hired them for? He went back to taking tolls.
Clearly, the guards were accomplishing what he’d hoped, because there were no more toll-evasion incidents that day. Word of the new toll collector and his new policy must have traveled up and down the highway. Matthew avoided meeting the stares of the travelers, but he felt their hatred, like gravel flicking his skin.
Matthew had to give the guards room and board in addition to their wages, but he decided it was just as well to have them on his grounds. He needed bodyguards to protect himself and his strongbox, as well as the valuable furnishings of his villa, from thieves.
So Matthew’s new life fell into a routine. Every morningat dawn, he and the guards arrived at the tollgate with his brassbound collection chest. No one traveled at night, but caravans always got up at first light for a day of travel. Therefore, Matthew needed to be in place early to inspect baggage and take the tolls.
With guards controlling the traffic, Matthew could do his job. That, like Alphaeus’s job at the Magdala harbor, was to check each merchant’s cargo and assess its value. He was staggered by the wealth in some caravans: eastern silks and spices from Damascus, or the precious purple dye of Tyre from the west. After collecting the standard percentage for the Roman Empire, he could demand whatever he wanted for himself.
Matthew didn’t have any qualms about taking money from these prosperous merchants. He had a good sense of how large a surcharge they’d bear. As Alphaeus had always taught his sons, set it high enough so that they hate you, but not so outrageous that they actually try to make trouble.
Matthew’s problems came with smaller traders, such as a lone potter with his donkey almost hidden under a burden of bowls and jars. “Sir,” he pleaded with Matthew, “if I pay what you ask, I can’t make a profit from selling my pottery. Sir, I have five young children and an old, sick father at home. How will I feed them if you don’t have pity on me?”
As Matthew hesitated, the traveler next in line spoke up. “That’s a good story,” he jeered. “Or is it five old, sick children and a young father at home?”
Matthew remembered Alphaeus’s words: If they think you might let them get away with paying less, or paying late, they’ll give you all kinds of trouble. Everyone within earshot was listening for his answer—the potter, the travelers behind him, the hired guards. This was no time to be weak.
“Pay up,” Matthew barked. He kept his eyes on the coins dropping into his hand, but he saw the man’s shoulders sag as he led his donkey through the gate.
EIGHT
LIKE QUEEN ESTHER
Although Alexandros had refused to take my vision of Miryam seriously, I chose to believe that he’d granted me the forty days I’d asked for. In any case,
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