Two Crowns

Two Crowns

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John G. O’Neill

MERCADIER

PUBLISHING

Mercadier Publishing

Narrabundah Canberra, ACT

www.mercadierpublishing.com.au

This book is a work of fiction. Apart from public names, none of the characters described herein are real, nor are they intended to portray any living person. Where places have been identified, they are real locations. I have also used historical events to give the story a real dimension. The religious descriptions are my own, but derived from research and advice and are not intended to offend. Any errors are mine for the sake of the story.

© 2015 by John G O’Neill. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

Published by Mercadier Publishing 2/5/2015

ISBN 978-0-9942684-0-2 (Hard Copy

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this book are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them. The cover was produced by Brigitte Russell. Permission has been granted for:

The Crown of Thorns located in the Notre Dame Cathedral Paris by Gavigan 2007

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Acknowledgments

I wish to acknowledge those people who encouraged me and criticised me to get to where it is. In particular I want to thank my editors, Mike and Kaitlyn Palmer Allen. Without your forensic editing, would not be the novel you now have in your hands.

I am also indebted to Dave Francis for his encouragement. It was an honour to have you critique David. I also want to thank Ross Howard (Kafiristan). Our coffee breaks were priceless.

I am indebted to the support of my wife Beverley whose revealing comments and insights shaped my thinking.

John G. O’Neill

May 2015

Contents

Part one

CHAPTER TWO MURDER

CHAPTER FIVE- HOUSE OF CHAVIVA

CHAPTER NINE - SIMON’S DECISION

CHAPTER TEN -SIMON IS LOST

CHAPTER ELEVEN - MASTER AND SLAVE

CHAPTER TWELVE - THE CROWN IN EGYPT

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - THE CROWN GOES TO WAR

CHAPTER F OURTEEN -THE CROWN IN TURKEY

CHAPTER FIFTEEN - THE CROWN IS STOLEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN - THE CROWN IS ABUSED

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - THE CROWN IS COVETED

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN THE FERRANTE DIARY

CHAPTER NINETEEN - THE VON STRAUS DIARY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - THE DECEPTION

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - THE EXAMINATION

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - TRAGEDY

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - LORD JAMES HALLIDAY

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - AL’ABBAS

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - DISCOVERY

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVE N - KIDNAP

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - CHARLES EDMONDS

EPILOGUE

Part one

CHAPTER ONE - IN THE BEGINNING

The village of Bethany, Israel. 69 C.E.

A piercing scream woke him and his heart sank. Joseph knew what that scream meant; he had heard it so many times before, and it still terrified him. It was the primal scream of a human in pain. It went on for several minutes until it suddenly stopped. He knew then that the poor soul had died, mercifully, putting an end to the suffering. The swell of raucous laughter and shrill shouting rolled in through his window. These were the shouts and laughter of drunken Roman soldiers coming up the road from Jerusalem to his village. He knew that the soldiers were close. According to the candle clock, it was shortly before midnight, the usual time that the marauding started. He was afraid, not for himself, but for his family.

He lived with the terrible expectation they were going to burst into his house tonight, as they had the week before. Then, they had demanded food and wine, terrifying his wife Ruth and their seventeen- year-old son, Simon. Joseph was incapable of doing anything to protect his family. They had cowered in the kitchen while soldiers ransacked their house. They had not had any warning but had been fortunate because the group of soldiers were without a leader and were only intent on stealing food or wine that was at hand. It had been terrifying; Joseph felt useless.

He knew the soldiers were deciding which house they would ransack. When it became quiet, he knew they had selected their victim and murder would follow. It was time to hide and wait. If they were lucky, these barbarians would pass and seek another unfortunate family. His son Simon appeared at the bedroom door, saying tremulously, Father, we must hide now!

Yes, Simon. Take your mother to the underground mound and wait. Don’t be afraid.

His family was relatively safe in the mound. A grass-covered door easily disguised it. Past searches by the Romans had failed to find them, but in mindless frustration, the soldiers had ransacked their house anyway. Joseph’s neighbour had not been as prepared. They had refused to give the soldiers their only donkey, and the Romans murdered the whole family. The people of the village found their mutilated bodies the following morning, dumped in a small ditch not far from Joseph’s home. The children’s arms were missing, and their throats were slit. We have to leave, thought Joseph. We have to go as far away as possible. My family will inevitably perish if we stay in this place.

Joseph felt the despair of helplessness. He was dying, and he knew it. Each day he became worse, knowing that his time was coming to an end. If he had been able to get up from his bed and go to the window, he would have seen the glow of fires lighting up the night sky. These were the fires of Jerusalem burning.

†

Joseph of Bethany and his family had been living in fear of the Roman soldiers ever since the Romans had levied taxes on the Jewish people three years earlier. As a result, the Jewish population revolted, taking up arms against the Roman Army. However, it was a one-sided fight with horrific loss of life, and now, the Romans were intent on destroying Jerusalem.

Joseph and his family lived in a small two-storey house in the village of Bethany to the east of Jerusalem near the burial place of Lazarus. This house had belonged to his father and by his father before him. It had two large rooms and a kitchen on the bottom floor, with two bedrooms at the top of the narrow stairs. The kitchen was a comfortable area, with Ruth’s cooking utensils hanging from various hooks. She usually kept their meagre stocks in a large cabinet on the far wall, but Ruth had put most of their food and wine in the underground workshop away from their house. It was only opened when it was safe to do so. Built on the road to Jerusalem, the house faced west, and because it was on a small rise, looked down to the walled city of Jerusalem. On a clear day, they could see the Temple Dome, and to the left, the Kidron Valley.

Joseph was well respected in Bethany. He was the village leather maker and one of the elders. He had believed his family would be safe in Bethany, far from the unrest in Jerusalem. However, new Roman Legions had recently joined the Roman forces attacking Jerusalem. They had set up camp to the north of the Mount of Olives, perilously close to his home, and he feared the worst. He had heard much about this new Legion; they were the most professional, fiercest fighting men, and probably the most ruthless Roman soldiers in the whole of the Roman Army. It was now clear that the Romans smelled victory and increased the ferocity of their attacks on the walls of Jerusalem, allowing the soldiers to do what they liked.

On this cold January night, it was obvious to Ruth and Simon that Joseph was nearing death. He was so weak he could not rise from his bed. Every time he coughed, he produced a froth of bright red blood. He knew he was near death, and at forty-five years of age, he didn’t think that he would die a happy man. The happiest times had long gone, and his family’s future now looked bleak. Joseph had fallen in love with Ruth the first time they met, in the small village church. He still loved her dearly. Now he was going to leave her in the most difficult of times, and he feared for her life.

A single event that had brought him the most joy, apart from meeting Ruth, was the birth of his son. The birth was traumatic, and Ruth had almost died. Joseph was with her as the delivery progressed but was distressed at her pain and the massive loss of blood. Neither he nor the midwife could stop the bleeding, even after Ruth had delivered an apparently healthy boy. Joseph had watched helplessly as Ruth bled onto the already blood soaked sheets beneath her. Their efforts seemed futile. After the birth, Joseph felt despair overwhelm him and left their bedroom. He sat at the edge of the road and put his head in his hands. He thought to himself, I must be strong, I don’t want Ruth to die, but I feel so useless. I don’t know what to do. Joseph remembers what happened next most vividly. When he finally drew himself up, breathed deeply, and turned to go back into the house, his heart began to beat rapidly, and his head seemed to expand. In front of him he saw a shimmering image. He was startled and rubbed his eyes. He instantly thought of the Crown of Thorns that had lain hidden in his house for the last eighteen years. He rushed into the house and removed several floorboards in the kitchen. Staring into the cavity beneath the floor, he could see that the Crown’s leather case, the same case he had made for the Crown when he had brought it home as a boy, was glowing softly around its edges. He had seen this glow before; it was the same soft, warm light that he had seen when the soldiers crucified Jesus. He lifted the case out of its resting place, blew off the dust, and opened it with care. The Crown of Thorns lay on the cream silk cushion that he had made for it at the same time as he made the case, so long ago. The Crown was the source of the soft glow. He lifted the Crown, expecting to have his hands pricked by the thorns, but they were not. He felt lightness wrap itself around him, and he knew instinctively what he had to do. He closed the case, went upstairs to the bedroom, and laid the case containing the Crown of Thorns on Ruth’s stomach. Ruth’s bleeding stopped, and colour started to come back to her face. He couldn’t believe it. Despite what he had just witnessed, he was afraid. The midwife was in awe at what she had just seen and gazed at Joseph adoringly.

Joseph, you have done a wondrous thing! Ruth has stopped bleeding and is well. At that, she fell to her knees in front of Joseph and grasped his robe.

He looked down at the midwife and said, Please, my dear lady. I am no healer. Ruth has overcome the bleeding herself and is now well. Please, get up off your knees, as Ruth needs you. Nevertheless, Joseph was in awe himself. How could this be? He looked at the case still glowing in his hands and clasped it to his chest.

Joseph went downstairs to the small kitchen and sat down. He seemed to be in the middle of a bright haze that didn’t come from any particular place; it was just there. His body shook, not from fear, but from an expectation that something was going to happen. He opened the case with trembling hands to see the Crown glowing brighter than before. In fact, it seemed to float on the silk cushion. Why didn’t the Crown do this before, particularly when I made the case all those years ago? Joseph felt an overwhelming compulsion to write, yet no words came to him. His mind was full of the image of an angel. The persistence of the image stubbornly put itself in front of his mind, now swaying from side to side. It occurred to him that he should capture what he saw in his mind’s eye. He quickly drew the image of the angel as it faded from in front of him. It was then that the words came. They weren’t his words, but he couldn’t stop writing. As he started to put the words down on a parchment sheet, he realised that they weren’t from his mind; it appeared as if it was some other entity guiding his hand. Eventually, his hand stopped writing; the glow dimmed, and he sensed that there was no more. Joseph was exhausted and sweating profusely, but the trembling in his hands had stopped. He picked up the parchment and read the words written by his hand. It was a warning that also described instructions to whoever possessed the Crown. Joseph was perplexed by the message, but he was also anxious to return to his wife, so he put the Crown back in its case and walked slowly upstairs to Ruth.

Ruth had suffered. She was exhausted and weak from the loss of blood. The midwife took the newborn child and wrapped him in his swaddling clothes, placing him at the full breasts of Ruth. She smiled weakly at Joseph and said, Joseph, I have borne you a son. Are you pleased?

I am full of joy, my dear Ruth. You’ve indeed given me a son, and I shall cherish him all my life.

Despite the joy of Ruth being well and the miracle of the birth of his son, Joseph was troubled by the message he had received. It was clear to him that the words and the Crown belonged together. It seemed that the proper place was to carve the words on the floor of the case, and the image of the angel on the lid. Joseph knew that the task of inscribing words on leather would take some time, but he had time. After satisfying himself that Ruth was comfortable in the hands of the midwife, he rested until it was past the midnight hour by the candle clock. Joseph then set about carving the words on a square piece of leather, almost the size of the floor of the case, which he would affix to the floor when it was completed. The message was quite lengthy, and it took him several hours of meticulous work to complete. When it was finished, he held the case up to admire his work, and in front of his eyes, the carved words rearranged themselves into a meaningless jumble. The angel he had carved on the lid also turned from his crude flying angel into a standing angel, with her wings folded around her and her head bowed in supplication. Joseph couldn’t believe his eyes. He picked up the parchment to assure himself that the words he wrote were the words he had carved – they were. Something or someone, had changed them, but why? He read the first words that he had written, ‘To he who holds the Crown, know that this is a gift from the Lord...,’ confirming that he had carved those very words. Joseph thought, this is a mystery, which only God can answer. It is beyond me, a mere leather maker, to understand the working of the Lord.

†

Now that he was near death, Joseph did not want to die without sharing with Simon the secret power of the Crown. He called Simon to his bedside. Grasping Simon’s right hand, he said quietly, My son, I am nearing my end. You know I love you, and you know how proud I am of you and your skills as a leather maker. You have grown to be a man that I am proud of, and because of that, I shall leave this life a happy man. Simon could feel his father’s love and pride, and he tightened his grip.

But I am concerned that the Roman soldiers will wipe out our village with their methodical stealing and killing, and both you and your mother will die at their hands. You must take your mother away from this place and seek a safer haven in the west.

Simon nodded. He knew his father was right.

Father, I also love you for the life we have lived. You have kept us safe from the scourge of the Romans, and provided food for our table. We owe you everything. I will do as you say, and I will set off with Mother for the west.

Joseph smiled weakly and drew a long breath.

Simon, you know in your heart that I am going to die, so please ensure that you make preparations to leave this house. It was my duty to keep you safe and provide food for our table. But before I die, you must know, I have carried a secret these past years. A secret and responsibility that I must now pass on to you, for this is a gift from God.

Turning to his left, Joseph pulled out a beautifully tooled leather case from under the blanket. The case was box-like, measuring nine inches by nine inches and two inches deep, with a top cover secured to the side by leather hasps. Carved into the leather lid was a Christian cross and an angel, with the words: ‘Jesus, Son of God,’ inscribed below. Joseph pressed the soft leather strap into Simon’s hands.

What is this thing, Father? Simon said. He held the leather case far away from his body.

You have no need to be afraid, my son. The case will bring you no harm.

Simon wasn’t so sure. The case seemed to be alive. He could feel it.

"Be aware, Simon, that this case holds the Crown of Thorns. The very Crown of Thorns that had been placed on Christ’s head at his crucifixion. Know also that the Crown has the power to heal.

During the last seventeen years, I have only used it twice. Once when your mother was giving birth to you, and the other when I healed our donkey’s broken leg."

Father, if it can heal, why can’t it heal you?

Because, my son, I have learnt that it does not heal the possessor, nor can it bring a person or animal back from death.

Joseph presented Simon with a scroll.

Simon, this scroll has the message that I carved on a square of leather that you will see sits on the floor of the case. For reasons that I do not understand, the words rearranged themselves into nonsense as soon as I finished. I can only think that these nonsense words are to stop whoever has the Crown from exploiting it, but someone must be able to read it.

Simon took the scroll and opened it. He quickly scanned the words then put it down.

I shall read it later. I am more concerned about your well-being at the moment.

Simon, please sit beside me, as I have a story to tell you, Joseph said as he started to cough loudly and began breathing rapidly. Simon placed the leather case at the end of the bed and sat beside his father feeling anxious.

†

"It was the day before Passover. I was ten years old. My father took me outside our house because word had come to him that Jesus of Nazareth would pass our home in Bethany, riding to Jerusalem on a donkey for the Passover. My father had told me about this man, whom he called the Messiah. I wasn’t sure then what a Messiah was, but it seemed as if he was a man to be revered.

The people from our village were cheering and waving palm leaves as this man Jesus rode by. I remember seeing a dignified man, sitting high on the donkey. He smiled at the crowd and acknowledged them as he passed. I was captivated, Simon. I followed him and the crowd into the Garden of Gethsemane where he spoke to the large gathering of people. Simon, I had never heard such words before. I was enthralled. As I looked at the man, I became aware that he was not an ordinary man who had ridden on a donkey. He was, in my young eyes, a man of peace and wisdom. Joseph lay back on his pillow and closed his eyes. His pain was evident to his son, but he gently pushed Simon’s offered hand away. I am well enough, Simon. It is just that ... sometimes I need to rest.

But Simon was distressed. The blood soaked towels required changing, and the putrid smell of his father as he lay there was overwhelming. The incense that Ruth had placed in the room was no match for the stench. Sitting forward, Joseph continued.

"When Jesus left the garden, he was joined by several men who were obviously close friends – they were talking with happy voices to one another and Jesus. I went with them as they walked into Jerusalem. I saw two of his friends leave, and Jesus and his other friends continued to walk through the streets of Jerusalem. I heard some of his friends saying that they didn’t know where they were going, and I don’t think Jesus told them.

I, for one, was lost, I didn’t know where I was, and it was getting dark. Trudging up a small hill, we came to a house where a man was standing outside with the same two friends who had left earlier, and they greeted Jesus warmly. The others went inside the house, and Jesus stayed talking to a man who I think was the owner of the house. He spoke with this man for some time, and then went up the stairs. I couldn’t go any further, but I decided to wait and see whether anything was going to happen. Well, nothing did. All I can remember was one of his friends hurrying out of the house, heading toward the city. Joseph coughed again, and this time there was clotted blood on a clean towel where he had turned his head. Simon was concerned, but again Joseph waved his son away.

Father, let me get you some water to drink, said Simon, almost in tears.

"Please do my son, but hurry.

Simon returned to his father with an urn full of water, but his father seemed to be asleep. As he approached the bed, his father opened his eyes and sat up.

Let me continue my story, Simon, because before the night is out I may no longer be with you, he said in a quiet but raspy voice.

With obvious difficulty, Joseph continued.

"Jesus left the house and with the same group, went all the way back to the Garden of Gethsemane where they set up a camp near some Greek people. I knew my father would let me stay in the garden because we had been there many times as a family, and he knew that I wouldn’t get lost. Unfortunately, I fell asleep near the big tree and only woke when I heard loud voices. As I stood up and looked through the gloom, I saw Jesus kissed by the man who had left the house before the others. Then a group of Roman soldiers in full battle dress surrounded Jesus and took him away. Jesus was saying words that I couldn’t hear. I wondered why they had arrested Jesus. He had done nothing wrong!

"What I saw distressed me, and although it was late in the evening, I wanted to see what they were going to do with him. I followed Jesus and the soldiers into the city to the house of a man called Annas, who my father had once said was a priest of some standing. I waited with a crowd of people for a long time. I think nearly three hours had passed before Jesus came out.

"The people who had gathered during that time weren’t joyous, much the opposite. I could hear the crowd now saying, ‘Blasphemer!’ and ‘Crucify him!’ with anger in their voices. When he did appear, the Roman soldiers took Jesus all the way to the Temple, so I followed them again. When we arrived, more people had gathered, and they were shouting the same thing. Simon, I couldn’t understand this. Jesus was a man of peace. They were calling him a criminal, and they wanted him crucified!

It wasn’t long before I saw Jesus and the soldiers come from the Temple and go directly to the house of Caiaphas, the High Priest. The crowd was now quite a size, and there was a lot of shouting and use of angry words that, at the time, I couldn’t quite understand. I also saw a number of priests coming and going. It was about half past three on the Friday morning. It was cold, and I was tired and hungry, but I couldn’t leave.

Joseph stopped talking, and his body jerked violently while coughing. Simon could see more blood appearing on the towels he had given his father, and this time Joseph sought Simon’s hand and held it tightly. After some moments, Joseph continued.

There were whispers in the crowd that Jesus was being tried for blasphemy, but it seemed to me he had already been found guilty of this blasphemy and sentenced to death by these people. I didn’t know what blasphemy was then, Simon, but it seemed as if it was a horrendous crime.

Ruth came into the room with a bowl of warm water and a cloth to wash Joseph, who willingly offered himself up to the ministrations of his wife. Simon whispered to her that his father was telling him an incredible story about the Lord Jesus Christ. Ruth looked at Simon. You should listen to every word, my son, she said. Joseph then lay back down.

I need to rest, Simon. Let me rest awhile, and I shall continue when I awake.

While Simon was glad that his father wanted to rest, he was concerned that he might die while he was asleep. He sat with him for the next two hours, watching every breath that his father took. At two in the morning by the candle clock, his father stirred and sat up rubbing his eyes. Upon seeing Simon, he smiled, I’m not yet gone, my son.

There was then a loud banging on the door and rough voices shouting for someone to open up. Joseph, Simon and Ruth looked at each other with fear in their eyes. They knew it was the Roman soldiers and that they were probably drunk, demanding food, or worse, looking for people to kill. Simon and Ruth crept downstairs, and Simon pushed his mother into a small alcove behind the front door before he let the soldiers in. The soldiers immediately demanded to see the owner of the house. There were six soldiers, not in battle dress, but with weapons and light armour.

My lords, my father is dying, and my mother lies dead. Please let my father die in peace! We have no food and no wine, Simon said to them in a quavering voice. The smell of these men was a combination of oil, garlic, stale sweat, and urine, mixed with the metallic tang of fresh blood. It was the smell of a professional killing machine. Simon wished that he had a weapon of some sort so that he could at least defend his father and mother. But he didn’t, and he felt ashamed.

Let us see this man you call ‘father’, and then we will decide what to do with you, the biggest soldier said loudly. Simon led them upstairs into his parents’ bedroom and presented the pitiable sight of his father, lying on bloodstained sheets. Yes, he is indeed near death. What say we help him on his way? the large Roman soldier said, laughing and drawing his short sword from its scabbard. The small room was now full of the six Roman soldiers.

Brutus, this man and his son are the leather makers! said a small, stocky soldier. They made my new baldric and sandals. He lifted the broad strap that held his scabbard; then lifted his leg to show his sandals. We have more need of them alive than dead!

Blast you, Gaius, you always spoil my fun! Brutus turned abruptly toward the door and then thudded his way down the stairs out on to the road with the others following. Simon followed them downstairs and re-bolted the door. He couldn’t believe what had happened. His father was still alive, and as his mother crawled out from the alcove, he embraced her.

I don’t think we will be so lucky next time, Mother.

Joseph was calm, given the circumstance. He had resigned himself to his death at the hands of the Romans, but now his biggest concern was to ensure that Simon would hear the end of his story. Ruth produced wine from somewhere, and they all thanked God for sparing their lives. Simon, after that invasion, I want you to take your mother away from Bethany. You must go to the west and to the coast. It is a long way, and you must be careful.

Yes, Father. I will.

I need to finish my story, Simon, so that you are aware, so please listen to me. Joseph’s voice was barely audible, and he lay back in his bed. "I don’t know what went on in the house of the High Priest, but it wasn’t long before the soldiers came out again with Jesus. People told me that they were going to the Governor, Pontius Pilate, at his house. This going back and forth between houses was tiring. It was now seven in the morning, and I was still hungry. I should have gone back home, but I couldn’t do that; I wanted to see what was happening to Jesus.

"The crowd was getting bigger and louder when we arrived at the Governor’s house, and it was contagious. The crowd was now shouting, ‘Crucify him.’ I even felt myself saying these things, but I didn’t know why. Pontius Pilate met Jesus, but not in front of us. I don’t think the Governor was too interested in crucifying Jesus because he sent him off to the House of Herod, who I knew was the King.

"The soldiers trudged to the Temple to present Jesus to Herod. By now, I was confused. Jesus didn’t seem to be a man who was capable of any crime. All the people I asked could only say that he was a blasphemer, and he should die. Again, it didn’t seem as if the King was too interested either, because Jesus appeared at the gate with the soldiers and was taken back to the House of Pontius Pilate.

"The crowd had now swelled to several streets full. Before Jesus arrived at Pilate’s house, another larger group appeared. These people demanded that Pilate release a prisoner whose name was Barabbas. I didn’t know why he should be the one released. An angry Pontius Pilate shouted at the crowd that he had chosen Jesus, saying that this was his right as Governor, but the crowd ignored him. I think there were some priests in the mob near me that kept calling for Barabbas, so the crowd shouted the same thing.

"I had difficulty seeing, as the crowd was getting bigger, and if I weren’t careful, the crowd would trample me. So I climbed onto the Western Wall so that I could see. From my place on the wall, I could hear the crowd still calling for Barabbas’s release when Pontius Pilate appeared with Jesus on the steps of his house. Pilate announced again that it was his decision that he would release Jesus. The crowd became angry at this, and I think their anger overwhelmed Pilate, as he then ordered the soldiers to take Jesus to the Praetorium to flog him in front of us all.

"Simon, I was witness to a terrible thing. The soldiers used a whip that had many tails with bones knotted in them. Each time they beat him, his flesh would split into strips! I was frightened and couldn’t bear to look, but those around me seemed excited by this terrible scene. I felt sick in my stomach, and I thought that Jesus would surely be dead, but he wasn’t. He struggled to his feet, bleeding badly, and stood proudly to face the crowd. Then Pilate said to the crowd, ‘This man has suffered the scourge; he should be left to live.’ The crowd loudly rejected this and called even more loudly for Barabbas’s release. The people wanted to crucify Jesus. I think Pilate then gave up because he turned away from the crowd and shouted at the soldiers to take Jesus away and kill him.

"You should know, Simon, all the time the soldiers were flogging Jesus, he didn’t say a word or cry out, but he must have been in terrible pain. The soldiers led Jesus away with his clothes in tatters, bleeding badly from his beating. They were mocking him and dressed him in a purple robe, thrust a Crown of Thorns on his head, and gave him a long reed that I suppose was to be seen as a sceptre. They called to him, ‘Hail the King of the Jews!’

"I had to follow him, Simon. I felt so sad that this man was suffering so terribly with the Roman soldiers beating him as he stumbled along carrying a large piece of wood on his shoulder. It must have been too heavy for him because he fell down twice, and each time the soldiers beat him to make him rise. Thankfully, they ordered a man from the crowd to pick up the wooden beam to carry it for him. I didn’t know where they were taking him, but the crowd seemed to know and they were still calling, ‘Crucify him!’" Joseph lay back down and held Simon’s hand.

"Simon, I can’t tell you how sad I felt at seeing this man bleeding and staggering up the hill. He didn’t say a word, but he must have been in terrible pain, and the soldiers didn’t let up beating him as he walked. At one point, a woman came out of the crowd and knelt in front of Jesus crying. He must have known her, as he spoke to her, putting his hand on her head. She then rose still sobbing, and two other women helped her back into the crowd.

"We then passed through the Gate in the Western Wall. I then knew where we were – The Place of Skulls. It was a place called Golgotha. The time was nine o’clock in the morning. The sun was bright and warm, and I was beyond sleep. I pushed my way to the front of the crowd to see Jesus lying on a large wooden plank. They slotted the block of wood that the man from the crowd had been carrying into the plank at the top, forming a cross. The soldiers forced Jesus to lie down on this contraption with his arms stretched out either side of him. Simon, the Roman soldiers then drove large nails into his hands and on into the wood. He didn’t say a word or cry out. I don’t think I could have put up with the pain, but he did. The next thing the soldiers did was to attach a small wooden block at the feet of Jesus, and they then nailed his feet to the block. The soldiers lifted this thing upright with Jesus hanging by his hands, and his feet nailed to a small block. There was a terrible moan from the crowd, but the cheering of others drowned that out. I heard two Roman soldiers arguing over which of them should have the purple robe Jesus wore before being put on the plank. I didn’t see who eventually won, as the unruly crowd distracted them.

"As Jesus hung there, I heard him speak for the first time. As far as I can remember, he looked down at the arguing soldiers, and he said something like, ‘Father forgive them for they do not know what they do.’ The Roman soldiers heard him and hurled mocking insults at him again, as did the cheering crowd. I believed that his words were those of forgiveness, but the crowd didn’t; they thought it was funny.

"Some time later, I saw Jesus look down at a woman, who I now knew was his mother. I thought I heard him say, ‘Woman, behold your son!’ I didn’t know what that meant, but his mother did, and she held her hands up toward Jesus as if imploring him to live.

"At about the ninth hour, I distinctly heard Jesus say, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ I became alarmed at these words, as it seemed as if he knew his father was going to let him die, and it made me sad to know this. However, the next words he spoke were quite simple but apparently difficult for Jesus to say. His words were, ‘I thirst.’ I could sympathise with that, as I was thirsty myself. The sponge offered to him had been soaked in vinegar, not water, and I thought that most cruel. I had now been at the foot of the cross since before the early morning, and I was terribly thirsty and achingly hungry, but I didn’t want to lose my place.

"Two criminals were also being crucified either side of Jesus. I wasn’t too interested in them, but Jesus was, as he gave them encouraging words despite being almost dead himself. At about two o’clock, more Roman soldiers appeared and set about breaking the legs of the two criminals either side of Jesus, but when they came to Jesus, they didn’t. I don’t know why they didn’t, perhaps they thought that he was already dead, but I knew he wasn’t because he spoke to the woman at the foot of the cross. Then I think that because the Roman soldiers had to make sure he was dead, one of them plunged a spear into his side, and the crowd cheered, but the women cried. The crowd then started to drift away, but the crying woman at the foot stayed. Jesus then said, ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.’

"A part of this crowd was now cheering as the soldier removed the spear, although this cheering failed to drown the loud moaning and wailing from others. I was distressed at seeing this, so I turned away. He didn’t make a sound, but Simon, Jesus had been subject to so much torture and cruelty that I didn’t want to stay and watch these final moments. I thought that he was probably dead, and I looked up at him one more time. As I looked up into the face of Jesus, I felt drops of blood fall onto my woollen cloak, which formed small dark red circles. Simon, a warm sense of calm crept over me. To my amazement, the bloodied Crown of Thorns on his head seemed to light up with a soft glow around the edges, but when I blinked, it disappeared. I then felt a terrible sadness overwhelm me, Simon. I thought, why crucify this man? I felt that this was terribly wrong, and I was crying.

"I then noticed it was becoming dark. It seemed to roll over us until it was as if it was night, but it was only the tenth hour, and the sun had disappeared. People became afraid of this darkness and began to wail, running down the hill to get away. Even the soldiers were afraid, but I was not. I felt at peace because I knew that it wouldn’t hurt me. Just when people thought that the darkness was over, the ground started to shake, so much so that it tore the Temple veil down. This shaking panicked the remaining people, and the wailing gave way to screams as the ground shifted beneath our feet. It didn’t last long, but the people didn’t come back. The centurion had had enough. Jesus was dead, as were the two criminals, so he ordered the soldiers to bring Jesus down from the cross.

"As the soldiers pulled Jesus down, the Crown fell at my feet. I grabbed it and ran down the hill to the Via Dolorosa with two Roman soldiers chasing me. The thorns were pricking my fingers as I ran, but I didn’t feel any pain. The Crown was warm in my hands, and I ran as fast as I could down the Via Dolorosa.

"I shall be forever grateful to the Roman centurion called Longinus Decimus. He saw me take the Crown but didn’t pursue me. It was his soldiers who chased me, but I was too fast for them, and I hid in the Franciscan House on the Via Dolorosa until they gave up. When I thought it was safe, I ventured outside and ran straight into Centurion Longinus Decimus. He stopped me and bellowed, ‘That Crown belongs to your God!’ I was scared, but I was brave and asked him for forgiveness. With all the strength in my young voice, I told him, ‘It was wrong to crucify that man. I believe he has done no wrong, now he is dead, and you killed him.’ He didn’t say anything. He just looked down at me with an enigmatic smile on the ugliest face that I had ever seen. He sat down on the rock wall and beckoned me to sit beside him.

"Simon, I was frightened. This centurion was a big thickset man, and his trade was to kill people. However, I had been watching him while the crucifixion was taking place, and he seemed to me to be in a daze. He then spoke to me, ‘What is your name, boy?’ His voice was thunderous. I told him that I was Joseph of Bethany. He asked why I stole the Crown, telling me that, ‘it is worthless and will wither and die in a week or so!’ I was nervous. I didn’t know why I had taken it. I said to him, ‘The Crown means something to me. I cannot explain what. I just know that I was meant to have it.’ He stood up and withdrew his sword. ‘Joseph of Bethany, my name is Centurion Longinus Decimus,’ he said. Simon, I was terrified. I thought that he meant to kill me. Instead, he got down on one knee, and leaning on his horrible looking sword, he said, ‘Joseph of Bethany, I am not a virtuous man. I think that I have wronged the world, and in your faith, I want to ask for forgiveness. I, too, believe that it was wrong to kill this man, so you can keep the Crown and be on your way, Joseph of Bethany. I will make another for the priests.’"

Joseph was now weak and barely able to speak, but he managed to say, "Simon, the Crown of Thorns that I have given you has powers that I don’t quite understand. I do know that if it is in my hands, it can heal. You should know that I used the Crown of Thorns when you were born as your mother was bleeding badly. At the time, it was a marvellous thing, and your mother recovered. I subsequently tried once to bring a dog back to life, but couldn’t do so. It did heal the broken leg of our small donkey, so it seems as if it is capable of healing, but not returning to life that which is dead and the spirit