The Third Day: a fantasy
When his scribe informed Pontius Pilate that Titus was seeking colloquy, he knew something was amiss. The Prefect of Judea had sent Titus, his best man, for what was surely the easiest-ever assignment in the long career of one of Rome’s finest soldiers. So, why has he returned early?
Titus was an old man – by Legion standards – but still twice the warrior of men half his age and the most reliable of all.
Yet he has abandoned his post. Why?
Titus entered the hall, slapped his right fist against his breast: “Prefect!”
Pilate looked up from behind a desk covered with dispatches. He met the soldier’s eyes and frowned. Then he looked back down at whatever it was he’d been reading and said:
“Why are you here, sergeant?”
Titus knew that the prefect was more irritated than angry. So far.
“Prefect, the tomb has opened and the man, Jesus, is gone.”
The scribe stood to Pilate’s right. He had been scribbling the prefect’s dictated messages. At the entrance to the room – the one through which Titus had just marched in – two guards stood silently at attention.