His return to Judea would be a triumph. The striking young man watched as the Roman galley pulled closer to shore. Closer to the land of his youth. The land his father had ruled as governor. The land now proving such a thorn in the side of Rome. Massala would help tame this land. With the help of his dear old childhood friend, Judah, the new Tribune would make a name for himself and bring a peace to the land he loved so well in the process.
       Judah Ben-Hur - the name came back to him with a smile and the memory of a young boy's laughing face. They had played together, laughed together, hunted together, loved together - as close as brothers, maybe closer. It would be good to see his old friend again. What form of man might he have become, he wondered? Straight and tall? Round and fat? Too hard, too soft? Or would he be the same Judah he had known all those years before?
       Massala closed his deep brown eyes and remembered back. Two boys with more guts than brains, hunting a wild boar with wooden spears. They'd lost the animal, but the chase had aroused them both. Collapsing beneath a huge tree, they laughed and examined each other with curiosity. They were both hard as stone. They'd gripped eachother tightly and, racing to see who could make the other come quickest, neither had heard the beast return.
       The boar was on top of Judah before either boy knew what was happeneing. Massala had the presence of mind to spear the great beast and kill it, but his friend was grievously injured. He carried the boy back to his estate.
       Mirium of the House of Hur was beside herself with worry. Her boy was covered with blood and moaning weakly. Tiersa, Judah's younger sister, ran from one boy to the other - both being so covered with blood, she couldn't decide which to worry over first! But Judah had survived. It was clear to all concerned that the lad owed his life to Massala and the bond between them grew that much stronger.

       Upon his return, Massala went straight to the garrison. It looked marvelous to him. As a boy, he had dreamed of commanding that garrison and now he was there. The Captain was filling him in on some details, but he hardly heard as he marveled at his good fortune. A Centurian entered with news of a visitor - some Jew requesting an audience.
       "Does this man have a name?"
       "Says he's Judah Ben-Hur and claims to be a Prince," replied the soldier with a hint of scorn in his voice.
       "Then treat him like one!" yelled Massala. Then, more gently, he added, "This country was his before it was ours - don't forget that."
       "Yes, Tribune," the guard contritely replied on his way out the door.
       The Captain misunderstood Massala's anger, though. "Very wise," he said. "The House of Hur is one of the most powerful in the region."

       Massala took a deep breath and went out to see the man his old boyhood friend had become. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but the tall, statuesque form that greeted him somehow wasn't it. The piercing blue eyes grinned before the mouth did and they clasped arms before either could think otherwise. The years melted away and they may as well have been boys again.
       "I said I'd come back," Massala whispered.
       "I never thought you would," replied Judah. "You must come to the house, Massala. Mother has been preparing a feast ever since we heard of your arrival two days ago."
       "And Tiersa?"
       "Is beside herself, as usual. All grown up now, though."
       "Does she still have a crush on me?"
       "Always!"
       "Tell me, Judah, do you still hunt jackels and lions?"
       Judah rolled his eyes.
       "Too dignified for that now, are you?" Massala ribbed as he took up a spear from the rack on the wall and tossed it to Judah.
       "Down Eros, Up Mars!" Judah yelled as he lowered and raised the javelin.
       Massala did the same and repeated the old battle cry and they both laughed.
       Massala pointed to a knot in one of the rafters and Judah nodded. The young Roman let fly his javelin and hit the knot squarely. The young Jew grinned and took aim. His javelin hit right next to the other. They laughed and clasped arms again - still evenly matched.

       Judah was pleased with what he'd found. Massala hadn't changed at all. It would be good to have a man like him in a position of authority. Perhaps he could temper the iron rule of Rome and ease tensions in the region. His mother, Mirium, and his sister, Tiersa, were bubbling with excitement when he informed them the new Tribune would be visiting the following day. He was surprised to feel a slight flutter in his own stomach as well.

       But Massala *had* changed. The years he spent in Rome had made him hard and had convinced him that Rome was indeed the center of the universe. He was ambitious and determined to make a name for himself - in the eyes of Rome. He *would* tame this troubled land, but if the local population put up a fight, they would be crushed.

       "I've already spoken to some people about non violence," Judah was telling him.
       "And what have they said?"
       "Some agree and some do not."
       "Who, Judah? What are their names?"
       Judah stared in amazement at his friend. Was he really asking such a thing from him? Could he really believe he would betray his people this way? "I can't tell you that, Massala."
       "Why not? They are just traitors."
       "They're not traitors - they're patriots like you."
       "You are a conquered people, Judah. Like it or not, you *will* bow to the will of Rome."
       "What's happened to you, Massala?"
       "Nothing has happened to me, Judah - you are either with me or against me."
       "If those are my only choices, then I shall have to be against you, because I won't betray my people."

       Massala was angry and disappointed. But if his old friend would not help him in one way, perhaps he could in another. The young Roman turned on his heel and strode purposefully over the cobblestones where he used to play as a child, and out the courtyard. Yes, Judah Ben-Hur would have to serve as an example of the power and glory of Rome.