50 CE at the Sword and Vine Tavern off the Appian Way, two blokes from different legions have a meet-up. It’s a run-down kind of joint. Not too many mates to party up the joint. Only a slave boy to run the owner’s errands and a slave woman in a dress, that looks like it hasn’t been washed in a week, ready to cook if needed, resting in the corner.

One-eyed, red-headed Gus, the owner, puts on his grin, sits them at his best table, and wipes the table clean of the leftover beer. Cause that’s the only good table in the joint. Several broken tables have been stacked against the wall at the back of the room.

“What’s happened to the joint?” Felix asks. “This used to be party central.”

“The Fitth came through,” Gus says. “That’s how I lost the eye.”

“Two beers,” Marius orders, then he turns to his mate. “Been a month of Sōlises, ain’t it.”

“Sure has. Two campaigns and I’m on my way to a third.”

After several beers, the name, Jesus, comes up.

“I hear you’ve taken up with him,” Marius says. “Tell you what. I’ll drink to your Jesus if you’ll drink to my Mars.”

“Oh, but my Jesus is real..”

“And my Mars is real too. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have this tattoo, would I?” Marius shows the god of war tat on his back.

“I’ll arm wrestle you to prove Mars isn’t real.”

“You want me to whoop you the way I always do. Okay. You got a bet. Mars I win, Jesus you win.”

They clear the table and they go to it. First it’s Marius, then it’s Felix, then it’s Marius, and just about the time it looks like Marius is taking all the cookies, Felix has a burst of energy and slams his friend’s arm on the table.

They rub their hands to get the blood flowing again.

“Now, tell me,” Felix asks. “What did this Mars ever do for you?”

“Give me a life. He’s the reason I joined up when my mom kicked me out of the house. What did this Jesus ever do for you?”

“Helped me beat you at a bout of arm wrestling.” Felix’s smile fades into a faraway look. “I don’t know. I think differently now. Instead of wanting to punch folks, I want to…I don’t know. Yeah, I want to get along. I meet a fella on the street I think this could be my new mate.”

“Even the Brits and the Germans?”

“Even the Brits and the Germans. They’re folks too. Just like you and me. I don’t even blame my dad for wailing the tar out of me. I deserved it. He did what he had to do. And I sure miss him. I’d love to get back to Rome and tell him about Jesus, but he’s gone now.”

“Man,” Marius says, “you have changed. Last time I saw you, you were taking on that goon of a gladiator.”

“They are goons, that’s for sure. But yeah, that gladiator did a number on my jaw. Knocked it out of joint. Cost me a month’s pay to get it put back right. Still aches when I eat.” Felix rubs his jaw.

“Tell me about it. My nose has been broken in so many ways I barely have a nose. This thing they give me. It’s called a gargoyle. Wear it for looks. Have to breathe out of my mouth.”

“You know that Jesus was a bloke like us.”

“He was?”

“Yeah. Just a country hick. Kind of fella you could spend a day with and never know how the time passed.”

“I heard he died on a cross. Why would I want to sign up with a bloke like that?”

“Trumped up charges. They did it as a joke. But the joke was on them. He rose from the dead.”

“He what?”

“He rose from the dead.”

“You’re joking me.”

“It’s true. And there were witnesses. His mates saw him. And then others. Over a hundred others.”

“That can’t be.”

“As sure as I’m sitting here, it is.”

Marius eyes his friend and stares.

“You been taking some of that Persian stuff we been hearing about. That’s what happens when you go on one of them eastern campaigns.”

“Ain’t been east of Egypt. And I was always afraid it’d make me wobbly.”

“You don’t believe this p.r., do you?”

“‘Fraid so. Last night I was baptized.”

“You mean you’re one of them they been talking about. I hear they’re too good for a tavern. Why would you sign up for that?”

“I’m here. Drinking a beer with you, ain’t I? Jesus wasn’t too good for a tavern. He liked taverns just fine. It was those hooty-tooty folk he couldn’t put up with.”

“He’s a guy you could have a beer with?”

“Sure ‘nough.”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“Took a lot of convincing for me too.”

“What convinced you?” Marius asked.

“Jesus was a Jew. He knew all the laws, and you know how many laws them Jews got. And he knew everything about being a Jew. There’s this story that got me thinking. Centurion came up to him and says, ‘My daughter is dying.’ Jesus says, ‘Show me the way to your house.’ ‘Master,’ Centurion says, ‘it’s forbidden for you to come into the house of a gentile.’ Jesus went anyway. He healed that gentile’s daughter in the gentile’s house.’ That’s the kind of man Jesus was.

“When I heard that story, I knew this was the guy for me. I never got a story like that about Mars or Venus or Mercury. Jupiter don’t give a hill of beans about us. All them gods do is cause trouble for us.

“You know Odysseus came to the same way of thinking as me. All that slaughter at Troy. What did it lead to? A big dinner party for the gods. And look who benefits from the sacrifices. All those temple folk. Talk about a moneymaking business. They get a cut on everything that’s sold for the temple and its sacrifices.”

“I always wondered about that. When’s the next time you folks getting together?”

“I’m going there now. I just have to do le toilet and take a turn in the bathhouse. Want to tag along?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

“Hey, Gus, how much we owe you.”

“Don’t worry about it, boys. It’s on the Master’s tab.”

As they leave, Marius says to Felix, “You know any place I can get this Mars tattoo removed?”