Solomon's Treasure Book 1 Beginnings

By Ben Hammott

BEGINNINGS - Book 1 of the TOMB, the TEMPLE, the TREASURE

Beginning with the construction of Solomon's Temple, the Fall of Jerusalem, the creation of the Copper Scrolls and the forming of the Knights Templar and their mysterious tunnelling under the Temple Mount. The story then takes us into the trap-riddled catacombs beneath Rosslyn Chapel, on to Rennes-le-Chateau, into the Tomb and beyond.

Tag line:
In the catacombs beneath Rosslyn Chapel, one man finds a secret they have spent centuries searching for.They are coming to claim it. A hunt for a treasure becomes a Quest for the truth.

960BC Solomon’s Temple is completed.

70AD Fall of Jerusalem and the Temple Treasure is Lost

1119AD The Knights Templar tunnel under the Temple Mount. Nine years later they find what they have been searching for and return to France. They become the richest and most powerful order the world has known.

1446 Sir William St Clair builds Rosslyn Chapel.

1891 Berenger Sauniere, a penniless priest of the small French village of Rennes-le-Château, discovers a parchment hidden in his church - it turns him into a man of great wealth.

1952 The Copper Scroll is discovered in a cave in Qumran. It is a Treasure map believed to have been written around the time Jerusalem fell.

All are connected Part of a Secret buried for centuries.
A secret many have been searching for without success.
Ancient Families, Secret Orders, innocents wronged.

All have suffered. All seek revenge. The Secret will give it to them. They just have to find something that went missing over 2000 years ago.

Feedback for Beginnings from Amazon:
Exciting, smart and entertaining 5/5

WOW! If only all archeological action thrillers were this good. 5/5

A Great Read and an Exciting archaeological thriller. 5/5

WARNING - You will be hooked from the first page. 5/5

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ben Hammott
• Release date: Jun 4, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476470849

Book preview

SOLOMON'S TREASURE BOOK 2

The PRIEST'S SECRET is the sequel to BEGINNINGS

Book 2 of the Tomb, the Temple, the Treasure

SOLOMON'S TREASURE BOOK 1

BEGINNINGS

Book 1 of the TOMB, the TEMPLE, the TREASURE

Ben Hammott

Copyright 2011 ©Ben Hammott

2019 Revised Edition

All rights reserved

The author can be contacted at: [e-mail]

The Author is Ben Hammott and he is the copyright holder. No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any other information storage and retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the written permission of the copyright holder. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Text design and layout by Format your Book 4U

and Cover Design by Ben Hammott

www.benhammottbooks.com

This book is dedicated to my son, SAM.

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Note from Author

The story you are about to read includes the novelization of some of the Myths and Legends associated with the tiny hilltop village of Rennes-le-Chateau and the surrounding countryside.  Most of the locations mentioned in this book are real locations, including the caves. The rest is from the author's imagination.

Solomon's Temple

PROLOGUE

Temple of Solomon 970 BC

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THE RESONANT UNEARTHLY grunts, mingled with shouts of alarm from his comrades below, hurried the actions of the man on the wooden scaffold ten yards above. Straining with the weighty block of square-cut masonry he carried, he stopped, leaned over the edge and peered down. Though the night was well advanced, the full moon lit up the object of the man's attention. He edged along the scaffold until he was directly above his quarry, hefted the stone above his head and heaved it below. The guttural cry of pain followed by an angry howl indicated the missile had found its target.

The man's smile of satisfaction faded when the scaffold shook violently, and he tumbled to his knees. He grabbed hold of an upright support to prevent himself from plummeting to the ground like the stone he'd sent below. Unable to resist the vigorous shaking for long, the scaffold collapsed into a jumble of wooden poles and boards and crashed to the ground. The man screamed when he fell.

The partially built wall the scaffold had been erected beside was next to tumble to the ground and created a billowing cloud of dust that rose into the air like dense morning mist. A howl of glee from the huge, shadowy figure moving within it was an indication of its delight with its destructive handiwork. After uttering a satisfied grunt, it walked away from the chaos it had created. Though shrouded by the thick dust cloud rolling down the hill, its progress was evident by the sounds it made crashing through the trees and undergrowth.

A man emerged from the dust, spat to clear his mouth, and crossed to the edge of the steep slope. He rested the tip of his sword on the ground and placed his hands on the hilt. Benaiahu Ben Yehoyada, King Solomon's chief assistant, walked over and stood beside his king. Together they observed the bushes and palm trees being pushed aside as something powerful barged through them.

It's heading for the hills, Benaiahu, stated Solomon. Follow it; I wish to learn where it dwells. It is strong, but perhaps it has a weakness we can discover and turn against it.

It will be done, my King, assured Benaiahu, and went to carry out the task.

Solomon turned to survey the destruction. As the dust drifted away, it revealed the full extent of the devastation caused by the recent unwelcome visitor. Many weeks of hard work now lay in ruins. Recently constructed walls and thick stone columns were now piles of rubble. Although it seemed no one had been killed, the groans from around the site indicted some had been hurt in the assault. Solomon sheathed his sword and went to help the injured.

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Concealed behind a bush, Benaiahu peered into the clearing the trail had led him to and glimpsed the large creature clearly for the first time. Bathed in the moonlight as it walked around the clearing, its terrifying form was clothed in a green, full-length robe hemmed with gold that covered most of its brown leather-like skin. Its long muscular arms ended in long fingers, the nail of each a sharp black spike. It sported a black, pointed-beard, a large hooked nose and dark staring eyes. When Benaiahu noticed the two backward-curved horns atop its head, he realized the creature was a demon.

The demon halted at a raised, circular basin set outside the cave entrance on the far side of the clearing. A large silver goblet rested on top of the thick stone slab that capped the feature. He placed his left hand on the basin’s top and uttered a few strange words. The symbol etched into the stone glowed brightly for a few seconds and briefly bathed the demon's face in a red glow that increased his evil appearance. He slid the slab aside and peered in at the pool of water. Snatching up the large goblet, he scooped out the liquid, placed it to his lips and drained the cup in one go.

He repeated this ritual three more times before placing the goblet back on the slab and sliding it back into position. He laid his left hand upon the stone and softly repeated the words. Again the symbol briefly glowed red, and the pool was sealed.

The demon turned away from the pool and headed for the cave, but stopped, turned his head at the bush Benaiahu was concealed behind and sniffed the air.

Benaiahu prepared to flee if the creature approached, but the demon yawned, turned away, and entered the cave. Silently exhaling a sigh of relief, he remained hidden until the demon's guttural snores drifted from its lair.

Cautiously, he crept into the clearing and approached the raised pool. He didn't waste energy trying to shift the stone slab as he knew it was sealed with a spell only the demon could remove. Upon examining the symbol etched into the top; a capital ‘A’ set inside a circle set inside a pentagram - a design he recognized, he now knew the demon's name: Asmodeus. Circling the pool and examining its hard earthen sides, an idea began to form. After traveling its circumference, he knelt and scraped at the compacted earth forming the pool's wall. Although only managing to make a slight impression, he knew that if he returned armed with the right tools, he would be able to dig through. He left the clearing to report his discoveries to Solomon and explain the plan he had devised to defeat Asmodeus.

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The following day, Benaiahu led Solomon and sixteen men to the demon's lair. Benaiahu had a reputation for a sharp and crafty mind, and though his plan to capture Asmodeus was a simple one, it was also devious and cunning.

Benaiahu stealthily approached the cave and cocked an ear at the entrance. The demon's faint, regular breathing and an occasional snore wafted out. He motioned for the men to come forward. Two, armed with spears, nervously stood guard outside the cave to ward off the demon if it should suddenly awake and exit his lair.

Benaiahu directed another two men to dig two holes in the side of the pool's wall, one high and one low. When the man digging the lower hole broke through, water poured out and drained into the sun-scorched ground. When the torrent faded to a trickle, rags were stuffed into the hole and earth was added and compacted to plug it.

When Benaiahu was satisfied the lower hole was securely blocked, he motioned for the men waiting in the bushes to come forward. Each man carried a large jug of strong wine and one by one each was emptied into the upper hole. Just when Benaiahu thought they hadn’t brought enough wine, the red liquid trickled from the higher opening; it was full. The hole was plugged with rags and compacted earth.

With the first part of their plan successfully completed, the men concealed themselves around the clearing and waited for the opportunity to put part two of Benaiahu's devious plan into action.

As dusk fell, sounds of the creature stirring drifted out from its lair. A grunt was followed by a loud PARRRP! Even with the apprehension, the waiting men felt, they sniggered. Their amusement was swiftly brought to an end by the vile stench that wafted out over them. Despite the disgusting odor, the men forced themselves to remain in hiding when Asmodeus emerged from the cave.

Asmodeus yawned and stretched out his body to relieve the tension of sleep. After a glance around the clearing, he walked up to a bush and urinated, waving his penis about to aim at the fruits hanging on its branches. The unfortunate man concealed behind it froze in fear of the demon so close he could have reached out and touched it, so endured the piss that sprayed over him. When he had finished urinating, he crossed to the pool and unlocked it with a spell. Upon sliding aside the stone cover, the strong stench of wine wafted out, alerting him that it had been tampered with. He let out a loud, angry roar and paced around the pool in frustration.

A few moments later, he stopped and stared at the red liquid. He dipped in a finger, licked off the wine and grimaced from the sour taste. He slammed a fist on the stone lid. Asmodeus was thirsty so snatching up the goblet he scooped out a cupful of wine. He sniffed the contents, roared in anger again, put the vessel to his mouth and gulped it down. After licking his lips and deciding maybe it wasn't so bad after all, he had another mouthful. A few of goblets later, he began to develop a liking for it, and before long he'd drank almost a quarter of the strong wine. He scooped out yet another cupful, sloshing it everywhere, and staggered drunkenly around the pool. After draining the goblet, he stared at his distorted reflection in its shiny surface and wavered from side to side before toppling to the ground like a freshly felled tree, raising a dust cloud on impact. He didn't move but snored in an unconscious stupor.

Solomon and his men timidly emerged from their hiding places and cautiously approached the demon. Solomon nudged the evil entity with his foot. Asmodeus groaned and shifted his head. Fearing the demon would awake, the men backed away but relaxed a little when it didn't stir from its drunken slumber.

Bring the chain and bind the demon, ordered Solomon, in a hushed tone. He placed a hand on his chief aid's shoulder. You have done well, Benaiahu, he whispered. It was a good strategy.

Thank you, Solomon. Let us hope the next phase works as well.

I'm sure it will. If not, we will think of another way to defeat the beast.

Two men quickly bound the chain around the demon and locked it in place. Solomon ordered the men not involved in the next stage of the plan to hide. Solomon, Benaiahu and four men positioned around the demon, were the only ones who remained in the clearing. Solomon stood at the Asmodeus's feet while Benaiahu, a pitcher of cold water held ready, stood by the demon’s head.

Solomon nodded to the four men and they lit the incense burners they each held. Powdered sheatfish livers collected from the rivers of Assyria, replaced the incense that usually fuelled them. Legend had it that Asmodeus hated the smell and would be repelled by it.

Solomon waited until smoke drifted from each of the four burners the men swung from side to side to spread the foul-smelling fumes, before giving the signal for Benaiahu to proceed.

Benaiahu emptied the pitcher of cold water over the demon's face and dodged back out of his reach.

Asmodeus reacted instantly. He spluttered, opened his eyes and pawed the water from his face. When he noticed Solomon and tried to stand, he discovered he had been bound with a chain. He sniffed the air and screamed in revulsion when the strong, pungent smell entered his large nostrils, causing him to writhe on the ground.

Asmodeus, shouted Solomon. Be still, and I will free you from the foul vapors.

Asmodeus glared at the man who had spoken and shook his head in an unsuccessful attempt to be free of the stench. He growled at Solomon and became calm. Release me, he demanded.

Solomon nodded at the four men, and they backed away but remained ready to dart forward if required.

Asmodeus climbed awkwardly to his knees and rattled the chains binding him. When I break free I will seek revenge on those who have done this and then continue to prevent you from building your temple. You are powerless to stop me. He growled savagely.

Do it then, said Solomon.

Asmodeus expanded his body and strained to break the chains, but failed. What trickery is this? he spat, as he climbed awkwardly to his feet and staggered from the effects of the wine, forcing the men around him to dodge out of his erratic path until he had regained his balance. He sniffed and stared at the nearest man's yellow-stained clothes and smiled broadly.

The nervous, piss-stained man stared back at the smiling face. It was a smile he never wanted to see again.

Asmodeus abruptly spun towards Solomon and again attempted to break the chains binding him, but he could not because they were inscribed with Shem Hameforash―the true name of God.

Solomon held his ground when the demon strode angrily up to him. The word of God is upon you. You are now under my command and will do all I request of you.

Asmodeus leaned forward until their noses almost touched. What makes you believe that is so? I obey no man. I am the King of Demons. I am Asmodeus!

Solomon didn't flinch from the demon's anger or wine tainted breath that washed over him. "I, too, am a King. I am King Solomon, and you will obey me, Asmodeus."

Asmodeus examined his bindings and saw the words inscribed upon the chain; the human King spoke the truth. He howled in anger and glared at Solomon. You have tricked me, human. You excel in your deceit, but enough of these games, remove these chains and I will leave and let you humans build your temple in peace.

Solomon knew the demon's words were false, and he wouldn’t stop his efforts to hinder the temple’s construction. I don't believe your words are the truth, Asmodeus. You're a demon after all, so I'll not release you, yet. You will work for me. Your task will be to aid us in building the temple you have tried so hard to destroy.

The demon glared at Solomon. Never! You have bound me, but my master you are not.

Solomon held out his hand to show Asmodeus the ring he wore. You will obey me.

The demon examined the ring and knew he'd been thwarted. He looked Solomon in the eye. "You have beaten me this time, King Solomon, but I now know your ways, and you will not trick me twice."

You will do as I command? asked Solomon.

Reluctantly the demon nodded. You know the choice is mine no longer.

You must say it, ordered Solomon.

Asmodeus glared at him. I will obey you, King Solomon.

The men cheered. The plan had worked.

Solomon picked up the end of the chain binding Asmodeus and led him back to Jerusalem. They entered the large courtyard on the Temple Mount and stopped beside the large basin of water Benaiahu had prepared.

Solomon ordered Asmodeus to kneel, and reluctantly the demon did as instructed. Four men picked up the basin of water and placed it on the demon's stooped shoulders with one edge resting between his horns.

The Holy Water in the basin binds you to me, and while it's on your shoulders, you are unable to move. I will return in the morning, and you will begin your task of repairing the damage you have caused.

Asmodeus watched Solomon and his men leave the courtyard. Although aware of his surroundings, he was unable to move; he was a living statue. He made a promise that one day he would have his revenge on those who had performed this trickery against him.

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For the next six years, Solomon forced Asmodeus to help build the Temple. He cut and hauled huge stone blocks from the quarry and hoisted them into place on the wall, dug foundations, and tunneled out rock. He was as strong as ten men and did the work of twenty.

Solomon, Benaiahu, and Asmodeus stood on the Temple wall and admired what they had created.

Finally, it is finished, said Solomon.

It is a job well done, my King, replied Benaiahu. The men and even Asmodeus have worked hard to achieve this glorious temple.

Asmodeus huffed in contempt. Know this Solomon; this glory of yours is temporary. You have had me to torture for six years with your petty building schemes, but soon I and those like me shall disperse among you humans again. We shall be worshipped as gods because men do not know the names of the angels who rule over us.

Solomon and Benaiahu stared at the demon for a few moments before turning their attention once again upon the magnificent temple.

If you release him, Solomon, he will likely rebel against us again, said Benaiahu.

Yes, my friend, I believe you speak the truth.

So...what happens to him now?

Solomon glanced at Asmodeus. I have no idea Benaiahu, but I'll think of something.

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King Solomon's Ring or Seal

The Testament of Solomon an ancient manuscript or grimoire, purportedly written by King Solomon, describes particular demons that he enslaved to help build the temple. The demons that previously hindered his attempts to build a temple were controlled with the use of a ring acquired when Solomon prayed for help in stopping this situation. His petitions were answered by the Archangel Michael, who gives Solomon a ring with a seal on it that enables him to command the demons. In some reviews of this work, Solomon's ring is often referred to as the Seal of Solomon, which is not actually a ring but a design upon the ring.

PART ONE

CHAPTER 1

Fall of Jerusalem 70AD

THE RELENTLESS SUN burned down on the men nailed to the long row of crosses lining the road to Jerusalem. Though they gasped for something to quench their parched throats, they had a more immediate threat to occupy their attention―the flock of crows that cawed loudly and swooped around the hundreds of wooden crosses. The crows had feasted for hours on the hapless victims and showed no sign of ending the agony they inflicted.

Micah had been roasting on the cross for three hours now and had steadily weakened. His legs sagged a little more, applying more pressure on his arms and chest. It wouldn't be long now, and perhaps death would mercifully greet him before the scavenging birds sought him out. When a scream pierced the hot air nearby, Micah turned his head towards the man nailed to the cross a short distance from his own. A large crow launched from the man's shoulder and took flight with a piece of the man's flesh clenched in its blood-stained beak. Two more crows quickly took its place. Too weak to put up a token effort of scaring them away, the man screamed and gazed on, horrified, as the birds picked at his flesh.

The large, black bird flew over the row of hastily constructed crosses in search of a feast. It picked out a target, swooped down and landed on the roughly worked timber. Its emotionless beady eyes stared at the crucified man while it judged its victim's weakness.

The sight of the evil looking bird only inches away, and the knowledge of what it was about to do, spread fear across Micah's face.

The crow watched the man feebly shake his head in an attempt to scare it away. Many had tried this tactic, and all had failed. The long nails hammered through their hands and feet rendered the crucified men powerless to stop the crows from feeding on their flesh. The bird bided its time while it waited for the right moment to strike. A few moments later the crow swiftly hopped onto the man's sun-burnt shoulder as his head turned and stabbed at its victim. With its prize gripped tightly between its bloodied-beak, it took to the air.

Micah screamed in pain from the gaping hole of his empty eye socket which was now oozing blood down his cheek.

As it flew over the battlefield, the crow looked down at the hordes of Roman soldiers milling about below as they lay siege to the city. It quickly swerved to dodge a large rock flung high into the air by one of the Roman war machines firing off another volley of missiles to bombard the city. The bird reached the safety of a lone, leafless tree, too spindly to be commandeered as wood for construction, and perched on a branch. Eager to feast on the tasty morsel, the bird gripped the succulent eyeball under one claw and proceeded to eat the delicious meal. The crow gazed at the battle between bites, not knowing or caring what was happening, but glad to be eating so well.

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On reaching the zenith of its flight, the large rock catapulted from one of the Roman Ballistae and arched towards the city and one of the closely constructed houses that lined the maze of twisting alleys and streets of Jerusalem.

The clash of swords from the two men fighting was drowned out by the rock smashing through the side wall of the house and crushing the two Jewish defenders inside. A third, battling with a Roman soldier in the doorway, was knocked to the ground by the impact.

The roof collapsed, adding more debris and dust to that already flying in all directions. The Roman fighting the Jew in the doorway was also knocked to the ground. He climbed to his feet, shook off the dust and examined his body for damage. On discovering he'd escaped with only a few scrapes and bruises, he smiled at his good fortune. Indeed, the gods were with him today. His joy increased when he noticed the lifeless arm of the Jewish rebel protruding from under the collapsed building. The Roman spat dust from his throat and hurried off to find another rebel to kill.

If the Roman soldier had waited a few more seconds, he would have seen the buried man's fingers twitch, evidence that the Jew had also survived. John Gischala, joint commander of the Jewish army, defending Jerusalem, though bruised and battered, was alive. The rubble stirred when the buried man raised his head. His hair and face, already plastered with grime and blood from the long day of conflict, was now covered in a layer of pale dust. When footsteps and voices warned him of approaching danger, John closed his eyes and feigned death as the Roman soldiers heading for the battlefront rushed past.

When the footsteps had faded, John pulled his battered body from beneath the rubble and climbed shakily to his feet. Dazed, he shook his head and set free the fine dust clogging his long black hair. The small dust cloud drifted away in a breeze saturated with the odor of fire and death.

Eager to re-join his men, but aware he wouldn't get far unarmed in the Roman-infested city, he searched for his sword. Drifting down the hill were the sounds of the battle raging at the gates of the Temple Mount. The scream that halted John's unsuccessful search for a weapon was much closer.

A half-naked woman, her face masked with fear, stumbled from the house and tripped to the ground. She quickly regained her feet, glanced along the street and noticed a man she recognized as one of her own and rushed towards him. Behind her, a large Roman soldier, his penis still erect from his desire for the escaped woman, rushed from the house and stared after his fleeing prize.

Even though the lack of a weapon left him vulnerable, it didn’t prevent John from stepping forward to help the woman when she ran toward him.

Help me! the woman cried and dodged behind John to use him as a human shield.

John desperately glanced about for something to use as a weapon.

Now that his view was no longer blocked by the fleeing woman, the Roman saw the man for the first time and instinctively reached for his sword that wasn't there. Cursing himself for removing it in preparation for his rape of the woman, he glanced back through the doorway as he considered retrieving it, but decided against it as the man and woman might flee. The Roman returned his attention to the Jew, who was also unarmed and smaller than himself. He'd beaten larger and stronger men than this weak-looking specimen, and if the woman believed she'd found a savior, she was very much mistaken. Confident of the outcome, and eager to dispatch the man so he could enjoy the woman, the Roman approached his adversary. The woman would pay dearly for this interruption. After he had satisfied his lust, her death would be slow and painful. His sagging penis began to stiffen again at the thought of the fun he would soon have with her. He rushed at the Jew keeping him from his pleasure.

John studied the muscular Roman running towards him and thought hand-to-hand combat would be a victory difficult to achieve. John pushed the clinging woman aside to give him sufficient fighting room. When the Roman was almost upon him, John dodged out of his attacker's path and slammed his fist into the man's side when he stumbled past.

The woman screamed and dodged away from the Roman, who narrowly avoided tripping on the rubble and crashing into her. The man sneered at her and turned on the Jew.

The woman gazed along the street as she contemplated fleeing, but afraid she might run into more Romans, decided her chances were better if she traveled with the man who fought for her; she glanced at the two men if he survived the fight.

He advanced with caution this time; he wasn't going to be tricked again. When he was within range, he threw a right-handed punch.

Though John easily avoided the blow, he failed to dodge the swift punch from the soldier's left fist to the side of his head; it felt as if he'd been hit with a hammer. Dazed, he stumbled onto his back. Before he could recover, the Roman threw his sizable bulk onto him and pinned him down. Winded by the large man’s sudden weight, John thought another house must have fallen on him. He stared into the eyes of the Roman only inches away from his own and was helpless to prevent the man's enormous hands from clamping around his neck, or his fat fingers wrapping around his throat and crushing his windpipe. Instinctively, John tried pulling the strong hands away, but the man's vice-like grip was immovable.

When blackness floated before his eyes, John changed tactic and scrambled about for something to strike his attacker; a rock, a lump of wood, but all his groping hands found were rocks the size of pebbles. He stretched his arm farther, and when his fingers brushed against a large rock, he grasped it and slammed it into his strangler's head with all the force he could muster. To John's dismay, the rock exploded into dust; it had been nothing more than a lump of soft mortar used to bind the rock walls together. He had failed. John felt his strength fade and knew death was coming.

The Roman noticed the defeat in the Jew's eyes and laughed, covering John in his foul breath. Unable to turn his head, John stared at his joyous killer. Unless a miracle happened, the Roman's ugly face would be the last thing he saw before death greeted him. Unexpectedly, the pressure on his throat slackened. He quickly gulped air to fill his starved lungs.

The Roman's triumphant expression changed to bewilderment. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead and his eyes glazed over as death claimed him.

When the Roman tipped forward, John shoved him aside before his dead weight pinned him down again, and noticed the deep gash on the top of the man's head where his skull had caved in. He sat up and looked at the woman standing above him with a blood-stained rock in her hands. He again observed the woman's beautiful breasts, firm and round, hanging free. When she noticed the object of his gaze, she dropped the rock and pulled her torn clothes across her chest.

John climbed to his feet, rubbed his bruised throat and walked up to the woman. Thank you for saving my life.

He had it coming, spat the woman. It's only fair you now repay me in kind and take me somewhere safe.

John returned to the job of searching for his lost sword. Nowhere is safe as the whole city is under attack.

John spoke the truth. The great Roman war machines had relentlessly bombarded the city with rocks until the walls had fallen. The enemy had flooded through the breaches to take the Anotonia fortress, the City's first line of defense. The surviving defenders, of which he'd been one, were forced to retreat to the Herodian Palace―the City's second line of protection. This too had been breached earlier that day. John and a few others had protected the flank while everyone moved farther into the City to stage a defense perimeter higher up the hill and had been cut off by a small group of Romans.

I was going to the sewers before that bastard tried to rape me, so take me there, the woman pleaded. It's no great distance.

John considered the desperate woman's request. She had saved his life and it was on his way. Very well, I will aid you in reaching the safety of the sewer. I’m John.

Jamila, said the woman, forcing a smile upon her worried face.

John gave up the fruitless search for his sword. We had better move before more soldiers arrive.

When they passed the house Jamila escaped from; John remembered the unarmed Roman he'd just fought. He quickly nipped inside and grabbed the soldier's sword before rushing along the street with Jamila following close behind.

Though the sewer entrance was only a few streets away, it wasn't easy to get to. They had to hide and change direction many times to avoid the Roman soldiers roaming the streets and ransacking the surviving buildings in their search for women and spoils.

When they arrived at the sewer entrance—a metal cover set in the center of the street—John knelt, lifted the lid and balked at the foul stench that greeted his nostrils. Someone gasped from the darkness below. John peered into the opening. The filthy sewer was full of frightened women and children.

John reassured them, Do not be scared; I am a friend.

Jamila dropped into the sewer.

Why do you remain here? Jamila asked. You should flee from the city while the Romans are busy.

We cannot, declared a woman stepping into the circle of light streaming through the open entrance. The exit is blocked by an iron grill.

Of course! exclaimed John. It had been done months ago to stop the Romans from sneaking in if they ever found the craftily concealed outlet.

You must help us, the woman pleaded. The Romans search everywhere and will surely find us if we linger here much longer.

John frowned. I cannot, for I must return to my men and carry on the fight.

You owe me your life, Jamila reminded him. If you don't help us you may as well slaughter us all as it would be a quicker death than that from the Romans.

John glanced at the expectant faces staring up at him. Jamila had told the truth. He could not leave these people, his people, to the cruel fate of the Romans. Eventually, they would find them. Some, including the children, would be raped and some of those who survived the ordeal would be killed, and others would face a lifetime of slavery. I will return. John replaced the sewer cover.

John hurried through the narrow winding streets. He turned a corner and skidded to a halt. Two soldiers blocked his way. He dodged back before he was seen, and cautiously he peered around the edge of the building. The soldiers, who crouched over a pile of valuables looted from the dead and the surrounding houses, were in the act of dividing up their spoils.

With no time to look for another path to bypass them, John gripped the stolen sword tightly and silently approached. Surprise was on his side, and he was upon the men before they realized the danger. John's sword darted forward. Each thrust found its target. He stabbed the nearest soldier in the back, piercing a lung; frothy blood gurgled from the fatal wound. The man's death would be slow.

Shocked by the sudden attack, the remaining Roman toppled back. Unable to draw his sword in his awkward position, he jumped to his feet. Before the man's weapon was halfway out of its scabbard, John thrust his sword through the man's heart. John was on the move before the dead man hit the ground.

Aware the richest pickings would come when the Jews' final line of defense, the Temple Mount, was breached, most of the Roman soldiers inside the city had surged up the hill to fight at the front-line. Rumors of the Temple's vast treasure were rife amongst the men, and all wanted a share. They would slay all in their way to get their hands on the fabled prize.

John arrived at his destination and rushed inside the blacksmith's workshop. The gloomy interior was bathed in the red glow from the burning embers of the hastily abandoned forge. His eyes searched the room until he spied the item of his quest. He snatched up a large hammer and a metal chisel and turned to leave, but dodged back inside when a group of soldiers rushed by. When the way was clear, he made his exit.

When he drew near the street where the sewer entrance was located, John stopped upon hearing voices around the corner. When he was sure the sounds came no closer, he peered around the building. Five soldiers were gathered around the sewer entrance. Three were standing, one crouched and one was flat on his stomach with his ear pressed to the sewer's cover.

I tell you, I heard something, stated one of the soldiers.

Well I can’t hear anything, said the man with his ear pressed against the sewer lid.

Let’s just lift the damn thing and find out. If we don't hurry and get to the front, the best of the riches will be taken, replied the third soldier, eager to return to the looting.

It might be a trap, offered the one on the ground. These Jews are devious bastards.

A trap? uttered the third soldier, rolling his eyes. Out of the way, Glimus, and I’ll open the damn thing myself.

The other soldiers moved aside to give Glimus room.

John acted swiftly and crept toward the soldiers. With their attention focused on removing the sewer lid and any danger that might greet them from below, the soldiers were unaware of the peril from behind. John arrived just as the cover was raised, but it wasn't until they heard a soft thud and a moan from one of their comrades that the Romans realized they were under attack.

John rammed the metal chisel into the top of the closest crouching soldier's head. The man groaned as he died and tipped forward into the sewer, causing screams of alarm from the women and children hiding within.

Before the others had time to react, another soldier had lost his life, his skull crushed by a blow from the large hammer John then dropped to the ground so he could use his sword.

The two remaining soldiers instinctively went into a fighting stance with their swords drawn and pointed at their enemy. One tried to parry a blow from his attacker's sword, but John anticipated the move, and the Roman received a slash across his throat that released a torrent of blood.

The remaining soldier, who stood on the far side of the open sewer, was horrified at what the Jew had accomplished so quickly―four of his comrades killed in a matter of seconds. He gripped his