The Ironsmith Read Online Free PDF

suggested that he had had to be dragged from his cell.
    Without even glancing at Caleb, who was seated behind a table, John collapsed to the floor, where, in the most dispassionate way imaginable, he sat examining the various wounds and abrasions on his feet.
    Under more promising circumstances he would have been an impressive figure, for he was tall and there was an immense dignity about him. The bones were visible beneath his skin, so the stories of his ascetic manner of life were doubtless true.
    Finally he did look up. Yes, he had the face of a prophet. He seemed ageless but was probably somewhere between thirty and forty. His eyes were large and black, and there was in them a complete absence of fear.
    â€œYou are John, called the Baptist?”
    â€œYou know who I am.”
    â€œDo you know who I am?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI am Caleb bar Jacob. I am here by authority of the Tetrarch.”
    John’s face registered no reaction, and he returned to the contemplation of his injured feet.
    â€œAre you in pain?” Caleb asked, leaning forward a little. “Would you like me to send for a physician?”
    â€œNo.” John raised his head, but not to look at his interrogator. He seemed merely to have lost interest. “It is of no consequence. I don’t imagine I will be left to suffer long.”
    â€œNothing has been decided,” Caleb replied quietly. “You are in my hands now.”
    â€œI am not in your hands, but God’s.”
    And John had smiled at him, as if he were humoring a child. In that instant he made Caleb hate him.
    *   *   *
    The next day, during their second interview, John suddenly lapsed into silence, as if he had just noticed something of interest.
    â€œFrom your robes I conclude you are a Levite,” he said at last.
    â€œYes. I was trained as a musician.”
    â€œA Temple servant and a jailer.” John smiled in amusement. “That is an interesting combination of employments.”
    â€œThe service of God takes many forms.”
    â€œIs that what you call it? ‘The service of God’?”
    â€œYes, because I protect the proper order of things, the order which God Himself has ordained. I serve those whom God favors and in so doing find favor myself.”
    â€œFavor with whom? With God or the Tetrarch?”
    â€œWith both, I hope. But more importantly with God.”
    John appeared to consider this. For perhaps a quarter of a minute he merely stared at the floor, and then he sighed heavily. A great sadness seemed to take possession of him.
    â€œAre you so blind, Caleb bar Jacob, son of the Temple, that you imagine you can serve God by doing evil? Does not your conscience cry out against it? I implore you to listen to that inner voice which laments your sins, because God will one day reclaim His creation and you will be called to answer for all that you have done.”
    â€œI answer now, John. As you do. God rewards the good and punishes the bad—not in the future but now, in every hour of every day.” Caleb allowed himself a pleasant smile. “I sit here with your life in my hands and you are huddled on the floor in chains. Has not God shown His favor to me and turned His face from you? How can you imagine this is not His judgment on us both?”
    The logic of the thing seemed so obvious that he was almost moved to compassion for his prisoner.
    â€œYou have sinned, John. You have turned the rabble against those whom it has pleased God to raise to authority, and He has visited your sin upon your head.”
    â€œI see. You have power and therefore whatever you do has God’s blessing. Every wicked king since the beginning of the world has used that argument. It is how a robber thinks when he breaks into another man’s house: ‘I have his treasure in my hands, so let me use it as I will.’”
    â€œDo you compare the Tetrarch to a robber? He has what he has from