A LEGEND to SLAUGHTER FOR
A TRUTH to DIE FOR
PROLOGUE
Bethany, Nr. Jerusalem
The Tomb of Lazarus
The crowd pressed in tight behind me, so much so that I could not turn around. The pressure of the people pushing and jostling, trying to see, caused consternation and anger amongst those caught hard in the middle of the pack. I was fortunate to be in the front rank.
They had come to see the man called Jesus. It was said he was a magician, a holy man, a prophet. I’ve heard stories, but whatever he was, it was known that he had performed astounding acts; like curing lepers and causing the blind to see.
His followers had linked arms and formed a ring, preventing the crowd from overwhelming him.
Rumour had it that a friend of his, named Lazarus, had died four days ago, and was now entombed behind the large stone in front of the cave. His friends and relatives were sobbing and talking to Jesus; some looked sad, others sounded angry. The man, this Jesus, asked for the stone to be rolled away. It was, and he walked to the entrance.