Seeing Simon, Jesus got up and went to him. It became clear to Simon that he cannot tell Jesus of his whereabouts just now, that he met with one of the zealot leaders, and that he is armed with a dagger.
Jesus thoughtfully looked into the eyes of his pupil without saying a word, as if waiting for him to admit the truth. But Simon stayed quiet, only nodules twitching on his cheekbones under the thick beard.
Suddenly he wanted to fall before Jesus on his knees and kiss his feet—dirty, covered in soot and dust—like always before. Simon loved Jesus, and loved him stronger than he loved himself.
“You’re sad about something, Cephas?” Jesus asked quietly.
“Yes, Rabbi. My soul is restless.”
A short pause arose. Jesus did not take his eyes off of Simon. Not getting his answer, he sighed.
“Grieve. Great grief await us all, Peter.”
At that moment in the caravan inn, not far from the stable, Simon finally understood that his heart had broken into two pieces. A proud fearless zealot now lives inside him, clasping a dagger to kill Israel’s enemies in the name of God; at the same time there lives in him a fearless apostle, willing to bare any suffering and go to the most shameful death for his Teacher.
In the morning, after a short meal, they set out on the road. It was not far until Jerusalem and they were making it in time to arrive before sunset.