I never thought my end would come like this.
When I first picked up the dagger, when I first slipped into the hills with men who whispered of freedom, I thought myself righteous. We fought for Israel—fought the Romans, fought the collaborators, fought anyone who bowed to Caesar’s shadow. Blood was spilled, yes. But it was blood for a cause. I told myself that dying for liberation was better than living as a slave.
So when they dragged me through the streets for judgment, I held my head high. Let Rome kill me. Rome had killed better men.