Was it the steel in his hand that turned his heart cold? Was it the killing and watching countless die that had turned his heart to granite? He thought again, why this wretched place and these miserable Jews? They say they worship the only true god. What a bunch of liars and cheats the religious leaders are. Their so called leaders of the only true religion are rich and the common people live in poverty and death. Well, they can have their god; Rome and Caesar have my allegiance and they make sure that I have food and shelter...........
He notices a small group of people coming up death hill. He recognizes a couple of his men escorting a prisoner. The men are following a Nubian carrying the cross member of the crucifix. Behind him is a man that must be the blasphemer that is to be executed. He is bloody and dirty. Blood from his head has covered his face. He looks as though he is wearing some kind of hideous mask as the color of skin is obscured by dirt and blood. The form of a crown has been crushed down upon his head. No doubt one of his men made the crown. They would want to recognize a crazy Jew who claimed to be king. He sure didn't look like much of a king. He wondered why the Jewish leaders were so worried about this poor piece of flesh. As the king comes to the top of death hill he can tell what took place already. A robe covers the back of the king and it is easy to see the trophies of the scourge. The back of the kings legs are covered in blood, some crusted and almost violet and bright crimson streaks winding their way around and over the dried blood. He watched many men die from the hand of the scourge. He admired some of the men in his company, they were experts and killing a man with the whip.
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