This week, we're pleased to welcome author Ellen Brazer whose latest novel, AND SO IT WAS WRITTEN, is set during the Roman governorship of Judea. Join us on Sunday, when the author will offer a free copy of And So It Was Written to a lucky blog visitor. Here's the blurb:
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Meticulously
researched and controversial in scope and imagination, And So It Was Written travels to a time when a Third Temple is
built and the Ark of the Covenant holding the Ten Commandments is
found. The year is 132 CE, and the proclaimed Jewish Messiah, Bar Kokhba,
has defeated the Roman army and rules Judea. As the Romans prepare to reclaim
Israel, the book follows two sets of brothers–one Roman and one
Jewish–whose friendships, hatreds, and lives intertwine.
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For
characters you will dream about, And
So It Was Written is the ultimate treat. You will smell the spices in
the markets, see the blood on the battlefields, rage with the injustice of
brother against brother. From triumph to defeat, this is a saga of
courage, conquest, familial loyalty, honor and love–showing man at his best and
his worst.
**An Excerpt from And So It Was Written**
I
behold him, but not nigh.
There
shall step forth a star out of Jacob;
and a
scepter shall rise out of Israel,
and
shall smite through the corners of Moab,
and
break down all the sons of Seth.
The
Star Prophecy of Numbers 24:17
Chapter 1
The
Jewish Enclave of En Gedi
In the
Year 128 CE
Thirty
miles from the holy city of Jerusalem, on the western shore of the Dead Sea,
stood the lush oasis of En Gedi. Fed by a jeweled waterfall, the grass was
green as emeralds, the palm and date trees flourished and the vineyards were
lush. Amid miles and miles of naked, treeless mountains of rock, herds of ibex
grazed. This was the Judean Desert–unchanged since the time of Joshua.
As the
clouds shifted and the sun blazed, Livel and his brother Masabala patrolled the
perimeter of the olive groves searching for any sign of approaching Roman
soldiers.
At
sixteen, Livel was narrow in the hips and shoulders. A newly sprouting beard
sat upon an angular face, his chin a little too sharp, his brow a bit too wide.
He had large, expressive coal-colored eyes and an imposing nose that curved at
the end. His appearance teetered on the edge of homeliness–until he smiled, an
act that transformed his face.
In
contrast, fifteen-year-old Masabala was handsome, with thick ebony hair, sable
eyes, long legs, and a sleek hard body. Even though he was younger by a year,
he was already two inches taller than Livel.
Masabala
weaved towards Livel with a sharpened stick in his hand, graceful as a panther,
slashing the air like a sword. “Take that, you Roman swine!” he hissed, arm
extended feigning an attack. He lunged, driving hard and stopping just short,
as he gently poked Livel’s chest with the tip of his weapon. Faking a sneer, he
hissed, “Had you been the enemy, you would be dead!”
Livel
shook his head and laughed. “With a stick?”
“A
stick today, tomorrow a mighty sword. Let’s go. There’s a cave I want to
explore.” Masabala yanked Livel by the arm.
Livel
dug in his heels. “We shouldn’t leave the grove.”
“You
afraid?” Masabala jeered.
“Not
afraid, just cautious. As you should be.” Livel knew his remarks would go
unheeded. Once Masabala had set his mind to something, he was relentless, and
it was fruitless to try to dissuade him. Memories flashed of the times Masabala
had put them in harm’s way–climbing dangerous cliffs where one misstep would
have meant death, hanging precariously from tree limbs as they built a
forbidden tree house, their bodies scarred from scratches and falls.
Livel
would never admit that he loved the danger, or that he silently rejoiced in his
brother’s bravado. He did not have Masabala’s great physical strength, but he
did have the courage and aptitude of a warrior, and he often fantasized what it
would be like to act as impulsively as Masabala. But impulsivity went against
Livel’s nature. He protested for the sake of protesting, telling himself that
he was going along to keep Masabala out of trouble. In truth, he wanted to go.
“We have to be back before dark.”
Masabala
shot his brother a smile. “We will be.” He knew that Livel was more adventurous
than he would ever admit, but there were great expectations surrounding his
brother, and for that reason alone Masabala was willing to take the blame for
all their bloodied knees and bruises.
They
ran side by side towards a ridge of low cliffs. Masabala was swift as a
gazelle, his stride long and elegant. Livel kept up by sheer determination.
Without
warning, Masabala slid in the sand. Livel came to a stop beside him.
“No
matter what our parents say, my destiny is to become a great warrior!” Masabala
proclaimed, raising a clenched fist in the air. As a Kohen, his family was
directly descended from Aaron, the older brother of Moses. Being a part of that
lineage came with certain obligations and becoming a soldier was not one of
them.
“I’m
sure the entire Roman garrison will one day know your name and they will
tremble in your presence.” Livel faked a bow and then playfully punched
Masabala’s arm.
“And
one day all of Judea will know your name as well,” Masabala said, respect
tingeing his words. “Father says even now the rabbis in Jerusalem speak of you
in whispers.”
As the
first-born son of a respected rabbi, Livel’s fate was sealed at birth–he would
follow in his father’s footsteps. What set him apart from others was his unique
gift. Information stayed in his head, stored in compartments, available
verbatim as needed. With perfect recall he could recite all six hundred and
thirteen commandments–the ethics, laws and spiritual practices of the Jewish
people. He spoke Hebrew, Aramaic, and he had learned to speak Latin and Greek
from the traders who frequented En Gedi. By this time next year he would be
studying under the tutelage of the great rabbis in Jerusalem.
Masabala
ran backwards. “Come on, great scholar, I’ll race you!”
The
boys sprinted toward the ridge that led to the cave they were going to explore.
When they were halfway between En Gedi and the cave, they heard the thundering
of horses’ hooves and the unmistakable clanging of armor. Horrified, the boys
froze. Sound carried far in the desert, bouncing off the sheer walls, making it
impossible to gauge how far away the soldiers were.
The
Romans controlled Judea and were unmerciful adversaries. They would overrun
villages at will and there were stories of young boys being beaten and forced
to become sex slaves for the men.
Terrified,
the brothers ran toward En Gedi. Livel turned for a quick look, trying to spot
their enemy. That decision was catastrophic as he collided with a boulder and
tripped. Masabala reached down and yanked him up. Livel screamed when he put
pressure on his foot.
“I’m
hurt. I can’t keep up!” Livel cried, grabbing his brother by the shoulders.
“Go!”
“And
leave you behind?” Masabala shook his head wildly. “We can hide.”
“There’s
no place to hide and you know it!” He looked into the desert, to the dust
kicked up by the distant riders, their spears and shields reflecting the sun.
He would not be the reason his brother got captured. “I’ll be right behind
you.” He gave Masabala a shove. “Just once, listen to me! Run!”
“I’ll
get help and be back before they get here,” Masabala said as he ran toward
home.
Livel
took a tentative step on his swelling ankle. Walking would be a painful option
and running was out of the question. He hobbled a few steps, trying to decide
what to do. If he turned toward En Gedi they would spot Masabala, so instead,
he headed in the opposite direction. For ten minutes he crawled, hopped and
limped, determined to put as much distance between himself and Masabala as
possible. All the while he was hoping his brother would return before the
soldiers found him.
Ellen Brazer is the author of And So It Was Written and Clouds Across the Sun
