The day was unusually cold...

The day was unusually cold, as he walked into the middle of the street. The sky was a blanket of clouds, and the wind pulled at the hairs on the back of his neck. Looking both ways, he saw that there was no one in view. He wrapped the dark cape around him and dashed quickly into the shadow of the next building. With a deep breath, he broke into a run and ran as fast as he could down to the center of the city. Heart thumping in his throat, he was sure that someone had heard him, he was as loud as an elephant!
Ah, there was Peter, he walked quickly toward his fellow zelot. "Where is he?" he asked trying to appear inconspicuous. There were tears in Peters eyes. "No, my brother, it is too late." "What??? Of course not, we start and riot and carry him off in the tumult." "NO! Don't you hear me? it's too late." his voice trailed into a whisper, tears now streaming down his cheeks. "I realize now, Jesus came to die." This was ludicrous. "to die? but what about all we've worked for? we can't give up now!" as a prominant man among the zealots, this hard faced Jew had been one of the first to convince the others that Jesus was who they all knew him to be: a prince and a king. He would not stand by as others killed him for no reason at all. He had to rule! To overthrow the romans and that stupid Pilate and other govorners and be King. A King, once again like glorious days of old with King David...
"Haven't you heard? He was beaten. I saw him. I talked to him! You can see his ribs underneath his bloody skin. and today they will crucify him, like all the other common theifs." Peters voice was one of the most intense sorrows, and only a twinge of regret. Not for the loss of the zealots, but for the fact that it had taken him that long to realize the truth. Yes, he had followed Jesus, year after year, he'd heard the preaching, he'd repeated what had been told him, and only now did he know. Jesus came to die for him...