The Bronze Bow (2 page)

"Well," she answered, "Mother left it all to please him once. It hasn't been easy for her, living in Ketzah. Why shouldn't she go back, now that Grandfather's left his house to her? It doesn't really matter to Father where he is, so long as he has his books."

Daniel listened, shut out again from the clean, safe world that they shared. But all at once his attention was diverted. Far down the mountain, on the narrow ribbon of road, he spotted a moving line that threw off reddish flashes of metal in the sunlight. Legionaries. At the sight, black hatred churned up in him. Out of habit he spat violently. The shocked attention of the two jerked back to him, and they followed his savage gaze, leaning to peer at the moving line.

"Romans!" snorted Joel. Daniel liked the way he said the word. He spat again for good measure.

"You hate them too," said Joel, his voice low.

Daniel closed his teeth on a familiar oath. "I curse the air they breathe," he muttered.

"I envy you," said Joel. "Up here you're free."

"No one is free," said Daniel. "So long as the land is cursed by the Romans."

"No. But at least you don't have to look at them. There's a fortress at Capernaum. I'll have to watch them all the time, strutting around the streets."

"Oh, Joel!" the girl protested. "Do they have to bother us?"

"Bother us? Bother—!" The boy's voice broke. "I should think even a girl could see—"

"Of course I see!" She was stung almost to tears by her brother's contempt. "But what use is it to be always making yourself miserable? The Romans won't be here forever. We know that deliverance will come."

"You're talking like Father!"

"But he's right! The Jews have been worse off before. There have always been conquerors—and there was always deliverance, Joel."

Joel was not listening. He had caught Daniel's eye, and the two boys were studying each other, each asking a silent question.

Malthace sprang to her feet, recognizing well enough that this time it was she who was shut out. "I'm not going to have my holiday spoiled by those soldiers," she said, with the trace of a childish pout. "We've climbed all the way up here and you've scarcely looked at the things we came to see."

Joel turned back to her good-naturedly. "We've seen something we didn't expect," he said. "Daniel."

She tossed her head. "What about the places we used to talk about? The plain where Joshua marched out against the heathen kings?"

Joel shaded his eyes, taking his bearings. Just below them the village clung to the rocky slope, the dark block of the synagogue showing clearly among the clustering flat-roofed houses. Around it circled the gray-green olive orchards and the fresh, clear green fields of grain, banded by purple iris and shining yellow daffodils. To the south lay the lake, intensely blue. To the north, beyond the line of hills, through the shimmering, misty green of the valley, the silver thread of the Jordan wound up to the shining little jewel that was the Lake of Merom. Suddenly bold, Daniel got to his feet.

"There," he pointed out. "On that plain. Horses and chariots drawn up against him, and a great host of men like the sands of the shore. And Joshua fell on them and drove them as far as the Great Sea."

He saw surprise on their faces. They thought he was an ignorant savage. The girl did, anyway. This was something he knew. Five years ago, that first morning, when he was warm and fed and slept out, Rosh had brought him up here, and stood with an arm across his shoulders, and pointed to the plain in the distance, and told him how a few brave men had dared to go out against a great army, and how they had won a great victory for Israel. Up here, in the clean sunlight, Daniel bar Jamin, orphan, runaway slave, had found something to live for.

"All the mighty ones," he said, remembering Rosh's very words. "Joshua, Gideon, David, all of them fought on the soil of Galilee. No one could stand against them. It will be so again."

"Yes," breathed Joel. "It will be so again. God will send us another David." His eyes glistened, as though he too could see the shadow of a vast army moving on the distant plain.

"You mean the Messiah!" Malthace cried. "Oh Joel, do you remember? We always thought that up here we'd see him."

"I was sure," said Joel. "I knew that if we could only climb up here, that would be the day he would come. I believed it so hard, it seemed to me I could
make
it happen."

"So did I. And we would be the ones to rush down the mountain and tell them. And all the people in the village would drop their work and follow him. Do all children have such wild imaginations?"

Joel was instantly sober. "The Messiah is not imagination. It's the truth. It is promised."

"But straining our eyes at every cloud in the distance, and thinking we would be the first ones—"

"I still want to be!" cried Joel, so passionately that the other two were startled. "Call it childish if you like. That's why I don't want to go to Capernaum."

"But it may be years!"

"No. It must be soon. Not the way we imagined it, Thacia. I used to think he would come with a great host of angels. Now I know it must be men, real men, trained and armed and ready—" He checked himself.

"There are such men," said Daniel, keeping his eyes on the distant hills. Without looking, he felt the other boy's muscles tighten.

"I know," Joel answered. Excitement leaped from one boy to the other. The question had been answered.

Malthace looked at her brother, puzzled by something she could not understand. "We should start back now," she said. "We must be home for supper."

"I'll walk a way with you," Daniel offered. He was thinking that he would like to see them safely onto the main road.

They started down the steep slope of the mountain. Once they left the summit behind, the breeze died down, the golden sun hung close above them, and not a leaf moved beside the path. They did not talk now. Daniel could see that Joel was still seething with hidden thoughts. He suspected that for the girl this holiday had not turned out as she had hoped. As for himself, he was already beginning to wish that they had never come. He had been satisfied up here, not thinking too much, shutting out the things he didn't want to remember—working for Rosh, and waiting, nursing his hatred, for the hour that would come. He had never had a friend of his own, and he had never thought about wanting one. Why hadn't he let well enough alone?

Malthace was impatient now. Probably her conscience was beginning to trouble her. But Joel lingered, trying deliberately to fall behind. When his sister was distracted by a clump of myrrh blossoms just ahead, he spoke half under his breath.

"There was something else I hoped for when I came up here," he said. "I've heard that Rosh the outlaw lives on the mountain. I hoped I might be lucky enough to see him."

"Why?"

"He's a hero to every boy at school. But no one has ever seen him. Have you?"

Daniel hesitated. "Yes," he said.

Joel stopped in the pathway, forgetting his caution. "What I'd give—! Are the things they say about him true?"

"What do they say?"

"That he fought beside the great leader Judas when they rebelled against the Romans at Sepphoris, and that when the others were crucified, he escaped and hid in the hills. Some men say he's nothing but a bandit who robs even his fellow Jews. But others say he takes the money from the rich and gives it to the poor. Do you know him? What is he really like?"

No caution in the world could hide the fierce pride that rushed over Daniel. "He's the bravest man in the world! Let them say what they like. Some day every man in Israel will know his name!"

"Then it's true!" cried Joel. "He's raising an army to fight against Rome! That's what you meant up there, isn't it? And you—you are one of them. I knew it!"

"Rosh is the man I told you about, the one who found me. I've been with him ever since."

"I envy you! I've dreamed of joining Rosh."

"Then come. No one could find you up here."

Malthace had stopped and turned back, waiting. Joel looked down at her and made a small helpless gesture. "It's not so simple as all that," he said. "My father—"

"Oh Joel, why are you so slow? What are you talking about?" The girl stood in the pathway, her arms full of crimson blossoms, her dark hair, still uncovered, falling about her shoulders, her cheeks flushed with the sun.

If he were Joel would he run away? Daniel wondered suddenly. Suppose his father and mother waited, with the lamps lighted and a good supper laid out? Suppose he had a sister who could run to the top of the mountain with him and be scarcely winded?

Then abruptly he stopped wondering. Just below Malthace he caught sight of another figure. In the middle of the trail, blocking their way, stood one of Rosh's sentries, Ebol, waiting for them to come down.

W
AIT HERE
," Daniel said to Joel. He strode down the path past Malthace. "Go up and wait with your brother," he ordered, scarcely giving her a glance.

"Where have you been all day?" Ebol greeted him. "Rosh needs you."

"Rosh? Where?"

The man jerked his head toward the rocky hillside. "Seven of us. There's a job to do."

Even to Daniel's practiced eye there was not a sign of life on the barren slope. "Right now?"

"Now. There's a pack train coming from Damascus with a string of slaves. They've almost reached the pass. Easy. No guard to speak of. All we're to take is one slave."

"No money?"

"Not a thing but the slave. A black fellow, big as an ox. Rosh spotted him yesterday when they stopped at Merom. Too good to waste on the galleys, Rosh says. Who are those two up there?"

"A boy I used to know in the village and his sister."

"What are they doing on the mountain?"

"They climbed up here—for a holiday."

The man snorted. "Get rid of them. There's no time to waste."

Daniel climbed back to where the two stood waiting. "I can't go on with you," he said, ignoring the curiosity in both their faces. "You'll be safe from here on—if you hurry."

Joel didn't move. "Is that one of Rosh's men?" he demanded.

Daniel did not answer.

"I know it is," said Joel. "And there's something going on." His eager look scanned the hillside. "Rosh is somewhere near here. I'm sure of it, and I want to see him. Please, Daniel. I may never have another chance."

With the certainty that Rosh's eyes were on them even at this moment, Daniel dared not delay. "No!" he almost shouted. "Forget Rosh and get down the road as fast as you can."

He was astonished at the anger that flashed in Joel's eyes. "Who are you to order me around?"

"Do what I tell you!" Daniel insisted. "There's going to be trouble. Any minute now!"

Excitement flared into Joel's face. "Romans?"

"No, you fool. Not Romans."

The boy's jaw had a stubborn set. "You don't own this mountain. And neither does Rosh. I'll go where I please!"

Two pairs of eyes stared hotly at each other.

"What about your sister?" Daniel asked, and watched the defiance blank out of the boy's face. Too bad, he thought briefly. He's the kind we need.

There was a sound of running feet. A boy about twelve, thin as a scarecrow, came racing up the road, face crimson, eyes bugging. "C-coming!" he stammered. "They've passed the dead oak tree." He scrambled up the steep bank of rock and vanished like a lizard into one of the jagged crevices.

Distinctly now Daniel heard the first sounds of an approaching caravan, the groaning protest of the camels, the bump of heavy loads against the rocky sides of the pass, an occasional muttered order. "Too late!" he warned. "Get up that bank, both of you, and out of sight."

Joel whirled on his sister in sudden fear. "Thace—you heard him! Get up there—quick—as far as you can!"

The girl lingered maddeningly. "Joel—what—?"

"
Hurry,
Thace! I'll explain later!" Then, with a snort of despair, Joel grasped her hand, jerked her toward the bank and gave her a push. "Up there!" he repeated. "Lie flat and keep your head down. And don't make a sound, no matter what happens."

Daniel watched with approval. Once he had caught on, the boy had acted fast. The girl too. She had gone up those rocks like a mountain goat. Then he saw that Joel had turned and was coming back.

"I'm staying with you," the boy said.

There was no time to argue. Daniel grasped him by the arm and dragged him up the opposite bank. As they crouched behind a boulder Ebol loomed beside them.

"He's all right," Daniel spoke quickly. "I vouch for him."

"One sound from him—" The man made one swift gesture.

"He won't," said Daniel.

"See to it, then. Now mark this. Wait for the signal. The one in the yellow and purple is yours. No sport about it, Rosh says. No killing." He was gone, as though he had melted into the rocky bank.

In the still air Joel's breathing was loud. The boy's eyes, fixed on Daniel's face, were feverish. Daniel felt his own heart begin to pound. This was Rosh for you, he wanted to say. You could never be sure what would happen next. Days on end with no excitement, and then, all of a sudden, Rosh would see something he needed or wanted, and like a hawk he would pounce. Daniel began to feel the crawling in his stomach, half fear and half pleasure. Only recently had he been allowed a part. He wasn't used to it yet, especially the waiting.

Joel nudged him. "What do we do?" he whispered.

"I do it," Daniel answered. "You stay here."

Joel's eyes sparkled. His young face was taut, his hands clenched so that the knuckles knobbed out. Daniel saw that he had no intention of staying there, and an elation he had never felt before leaped up in him. Suddenly he grinned back at Joel, and in that instant they heard a sound just below them. Close together they edged their foreheads around the rock.

The first of the train came in view, a burly guard armed with a heavy staff, and behind that a second guard with a sword at his side, both walking silently, glancing uneasily at the rocky banks. They knew they were approaching a bad spot on the trade route, lonely, narrow, and treacherous. Above them the boys waited, holding their breaths, as the rest of the caravan wound slowly into sight. It was not much to brag about. Four mangy camels, lurching grudgingly up the steep path, their burdens swaying. A string of underfed mules. One litter with dingy curtains. Four ordinary tradesmen. With disgust Daniel marked the one in the purple and yellow headdress. The man was fat and out of breath, and looked scared to death already. How long would it be before Rosh would give him a full-sized job to do?