HE HAD MET WITH THEM several times now, since he had formed the group, closing the shop early and meeting in the home of one of the group members. So far, no plans had been made but the men were reminded of their purpose and of the atrocities of the government which were its inspiration. They would whisper cheers of “Down with the government!” Or “Down with Pilate!” (They whispered so as not to be heard by the neighbors or some patriotic passerby and have their cause stopped before it got started.)
This meeting was to be different. At this meeting tonight, some concrete plans would be discussed and decided upon. He came prepared with detailed drawings of the courtyard square replete with markings of all guard positions.
Several plans were purposed, but the one that was best soon became obvious. It developed out of the suggestions and questions of several of the group members. “If we break into groups and knock out each guard position in the courtyard more or less at the same time, it would prevent us from being shot at from around us and cut off any warning to the main Praetorian Guard.”
“And then, we come back together to act as one big group to march on the praetorium itself.”
“But, how are we going to get in to begin with?”
“Simple. We go during the time of judgment posing as ordinary petitioners. Once we are in as part of the crowd, we wander away to the guard stations one at a time. In all that crowd, no one will notice.”
“That’s a great idea. Then, when we attack, perhaps some of the crowd might also decide to join with us.”
“Wonderful!” exclaimed the smith, surprised at the brilliance of the plan. “If everyone is agreed with this plan, we can adjourn.”
Feeling that the evening had been a big success, he walked happily home to his family. On the way, however he was again, plagued with the haunting question of whether or not to tell his dear wife about their plans. How much longer could he keep all of this hidden from her? He knew she would never fully understand, but perhaps that was something he would have to live with. As his wife, didn’t she have a right to know? Or should she be forever kept in the dark about this part of his life? What if, God forbid, something happened to him during the insurrection? Would that be the right time for her to find out?
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