The Bronze Bow (19 page)

Joel nodded. "I can see why. It would give us a good idea which men would be against us. Any Jew who would eat at the tetrarch's table—"

"That's it. We need to know our enemies as well as our friends."

"Is that all I have to do? Just find out those things?" Joel looked disappointed.

"You may not find it so easy. Rosh didn't have any idea how you'd go about it. He left all that to you."

"How will I get the word to Rosh?" asked Joel, looking flattered.

"I'll take care of that. Bring what you find to me, or send it by one of the band, someone we can trust. I'll see that it gets to Rosh."

Joel's eyes began to sparkle at the thought of intrigue. "Let's see," he began. "It doesn't really help that people know me here. That kind would hold their tongues because of Father. I don't think I'd find out a thing. Besides, Mattathias and father don't speak to each other. No, the servants are the ones to talk to. If I could get in to the servants—If I could sell something—"

"Fish!" Thacia broke in. "You could get all the fish you want from Simon and Andrew." At moments like this, caught up in the same excitement, the brother and sister were unmistakably twins.

"Good idea!" Joel flashed. "I'll get a basketful of extra fine ones, and peddle them for a good price. I can say I'll take orders for any special occasion. You know how the kitchen slaves talk about a party. I'm sure it would work!"

Struggling with envy again, Daniel sit silent. Joel was too excited to wonder why he, the youngest of the group, should have been given this assignment. The truth was, Daniel knew, Rosh had no one else to send. The band in the mountains boasted more muscle than wit. How far would he himself get, with his smith's shoulders and his country manners? Joel had to be the one.

Then, watching Joel's rapt flushed face, Daniel felt not envy, but unexpected misgiving. If anything went wrong? He glanced at Thacia. Her eyes met his, and in them he saw his own doubt suddenly mirrored.

"Joel," he said. "You don't have to do this. Rosh has no right to order you."

"Why hasn't he? If he asked you—?"

"It's different with me."

"Why is it different?"

"I'm a nobody. You have your future to think of, and your father and mother—and Thacia."

"No," said Thacia quickly, "not me. I took the oath with you, remember? Only—Daniel, is this a dangerous thing?"

"Stop fussing, both of you," said Joel, with new importance. "Let me think. I can get the fish early, before it's light. But suppose Father finds out I'm not in school? Perhaps I could ask him for a holiday."

Thacia leaned forward. "Joel—I have an idea! What if you and Daniel were seen going out of the city tomorrow morning? Suppose you passed the guards and even spoke to them, so if we needed, people could swear they had seen you? Wouldn't that leave you free to do anything you like?"

Joel stared at his sister, and then his face came alive like hers. "Thace! Why didn't I think of it? Would you do it—honestly?"

"You know I would."

As always, Daniel was baffled by the swiftness with which these two caught up each other's thoughts and left him stumbling behind. "I don't see—" he said, annoyed.

Joel laughed. "We've done it plenty of times in the past just for the fun of it. When we were little and her hair was short we used to change clothes, and sometimes we fooled the neighbors—the nearsighted ones, at least. Of course, she's shorter now, but unless we stand side by side, who would notice?"

Daniel caught on. "You mean—?"

"Of course." Joel interrupted him as he did his sister, without realizing it. "Thace wears my clothes, and with her hair back under the turban who's to know she's not a boy? Then you two go about together. I'll arrange for a dav off. You could go—oh—somewhere out of the city would be best—where we're not too well known."

"We'll go to visit Leah. I've been wanting to for days."

In the face of their enthusiasm, Daniel's scruples melted. Before he crept out of the passageway, and set out for the village, the three had agreed to meet next morning by the boats of Simon and Andrew.

Before dawn Daniel joined the farmers on the road to the city. At the harbor the usual crowd waited hopefully by the fishing boats. As he drew nearer, two boys moved from the rest and came to meet him. One was a sturdy barefoot fisherman in a rough cotton tunic, his throat and arms bare. The other made Daniel gasp. Beneath a close-bound turban was half hidden a second Joel, younger, smooth-faced, more finely-drawn, but with the same lustrous eyes. Thacia tipped back her head for Daniel's scrutiny in a gesture that reminded him of Leah.

"It's not quite so perfect as it used to be," she admitted cheerfully. "We'd better keep away from the marketplace. Once out of town I'll be safe."

Both brother and sister were relishing their conspiracy. Their high spirits made his own doubts seem niggardly. Joel had already arranged for a consignment of fish and had them hidden under a half-upturned boat, packed under fresh green leaves in a woven basket. Presently he set off with a swaggering step and a wide grin. Then Thacia took control with a brisk efficiency that surprised Daniel.

"We'll go this way," she directed. "We won't be so likely to meet anyone'."

"Aren't you going to wait?" Daniel asked, surprised. "Jesus will be here soon."

A slight cloud darkened her face. "No," she said. "Not this morning. I'd rather get out of the city."

"I thought you meant to be seen."

"Yes—well—I don't want to meet anyone face to face." She hurried him along unfamiliar streets toward the gates of the city. For a time they walked in silence, and then Thacia spoke. "It isn't really that I'm afraid to be seen," she said honestly. "I didn't want to wait for Jesus. I didn't want to see his face when he saw me like this."

Daniel was surprised. Then he remembered, dimly, the ancient law that forbade a man and woman to wear each other's garments. "Are you worried about the Law?" he asked. "I don't think Jesus—"

"Oh—the Law!" she replied. "Joel and I have broken so many laws lately that one more wouldn't matter." She paused, embarrassed, because he must know that any laws she and Joel had broken had to do with their visits to Daniel's house. Then she hurried on. "It's just that I don't want to face Jesus with a lie. I couldn't bear the way his eyes would look at me."

"If he understood the reason he wouldn't blame you."

"Yes, I think he would," she said thoughtfully. "I think that for Jesus a lie is impossible, no matter what the reason."

"In war a lie is a weapon," said Daniel. "We have to use what weapons we have. Even Jesus must see that."

"I don't think he would see it at all," said Thacia. She walked on a little way, then she spoke again. "Daniel, what makes you and Joel so sure that Jesus means to make war?"

"He says that the kingdom is at hand. What else can he mean?"

"Did you ever think he might mean that the kingdom will come some other way? Without any fighting?"

"You mean just wait—forever—like your father says?"

Thacia's forehead wrinkled in an effort to put her thoughts into words. "Not exactly. You see, Jesus has made me see that we don't need to wait for God to care for us. He does that now. Every one of us. Jesus says that God sees into our hearts and loves us. If everyone understood that—every man and woman—"

"Would that rid us of the Romans?"

"Suppose—the Romans too could understand?"

He stopped in the road and stared at her. "
Romans?
You think God loves the
Romans?"

Thacia sighed. "That's impossible, I suppose. Then why does he say that we must love our enemies?"

"He is talking to men. A girl can't understand such things!" He said it rudely, and too loudly, because Thacia's words had come close to his own secret doubts. So loudly that two passers-by turned to stare at them, and Thacia lowered her head and hurried her steps. When she spoke again she changed the subject.

"This thing that Joel is doing—is it dangerous? I don't quite understand it. Why does Rosh want those names?"

"I don't think it's dangerous," he told her, not quite truthfully. "Joel thinks fast. Don't worry about him." The last part of her question he did not answer. He did not want to admit that he could not see why Rosh wanted the names.

Thacia was only too willing to accept his assurance, and at once she was confident again. They left the stone houses behind them, passed through the wall of Capernaum, taking special care to greet the sentries, and took the broad road that led north into the hills.

All at once Daniel's muscles tensed. He had seen, just ahead, two figures in the familiar metal helmets. Two soldiers rested beside the road, their heavy packs in the dust. One of them sat on the stone wall, his spear leaning beside him. The other was adjusting the strap of his sandal, but he glanced up now, and Daniel saw that it was too late even to consider turning back.

"They're sure to speak to us," he cautioned Thacia under his breath.

"What if they do?" she asked. "That's what I came for, to be seen."

"All the same, you let me do the talking."

The two soldiers watched their approach with interest. "The gods have done us a favor after all," one of them said. "Didn't I predict it?"

"It's more than you deserve," said the other. "But who's to question the gods? Here, boy!"

With a snap of his finger he indicated the two packs. A quick upward jerk of his elbow made his orders clear.

Black anger rose in Daniel. He knew well enough the law that allowed a Roman to command that a Jew carry his burden for one mile. But the man didn't live who could make him shoulder a Roman pack! He looked squarely at the soldier. Then he spat, deliberately. The blow across his mouth came instantly and staggeringly, but he did not lower his head. The second soldier got to his feet, easily, carelessly, his eyes watchful.

There was a stifled gasp. Then Thacia very quietly stepped forward and lifted one of the packs. It was heavier than she expected and she paused a second, then made another try, and hoisted it awkwardly to her shoulders. The soldiers waited. Daniel stood in helpless fury. Then, for the first time in his life, he bent his neck to the Roman yoke and picked up the second pack.

He wanted to weep for shame. The blood pounded in his temples. He did not know which he hated more, the two soldiers or the girl who walked beside him, who had tricked him into this humiliation. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. She was walking at a fair pace, only a slight stagger betraying the effort. Let her stumble. Let her fall, and see if he cared! In a moment he looked sideways again. He saw the drops of moisture that clung to her forehead and trickled down her chin. Suddenly shame for her flooded over his own. Thacia!

"Put it down," he muttered, shifting closer to her. "I'll take mine on and come back for it."

"—nothing of the kind," she panted. "Keep quiet. Don't talk."

The two soldiers ambled behind them, chatting good-naturedly to each other, as though the two packbearers were mules. Finally they reached the milestone. By rights the soldiers could have made them go on, since they had taken the burdens well within the limits of the last stone. But Thacia's pace had become irksome, and it was obvious that though willing she could do no better. So the owner of her pack shouldered it himself, and less willingly the other let Daniel off also, with a parting blow on the ear for his sullenness. They strode ahead along the road, and Thacia sank down on the grass, rubbing her shoulder.

"Are you all right?" Daniel asked finally, not looking at her.

"No thanks to you. What possessed you, Daniel?"

Daniel scowled down at the road. "The very sight of them makes me lose my head. Filthy foreigners! If you hadn't been with me—"

"You'd have lost your silly head for good. How would that serve your country?"

"All right!" he burst out. "I made a fool of myself! Do you want to go back now?"

"Certainly not!" She sprang to her feet. "I want to see Leah."

They went on, Daniel keeping his eyes on the road ahead. But presently, stealing a furtive look at the girl beside him, Daniel discovered that she was looking directly at him.

"I might as well be honest, Daniel," she said unexpectedly. "Back there—I was proud of you. Scared to death, but proud too. If I were a boy, I hope I'd have the courage."

The frank words took Daniel by surprise. He could feel the pleasure of them spreading, warm as wine, along his veins. He had never had much praise in his life. He didn't know what to make of it.

As they climbed the first rise from the plain, a breeze stirred their hot faces. On every side the land stretched, brown and parched under the summer sun. Here and there a solitary thresher still moved in a field, tossing the grain in great forkfuls into the air, letting the breeze catch the chaff while the heavy grain fell back to the ground.

Presently they reached the village. Outside his own door Daniel knocked and called out, and presently the bolt inside was quietly drawn back. As Daniel pushed open the door, Thacia stood back.

"I have brought a friend of yours with me," Darnel announced.

Leah, from the corner where she had retreated at the first glimpse of an unfamiliar figure, stared out into the road. Then her face lighted. "Thacia!" she cried. "Why are you dressed in Joel's clothes?"

Thacia came into the room laughing and pushing back the hot turban with relief. "It's lucky everyone doesn't have your sharp eyes," she said. "You won't give me away, will you? It's a—a sort of game we're playing."

Leah came forward slowly. "Daniel never plays games," she said soberly.

"What a pity," said Thacia lightly. "Joel and I pretend all sorts of things. But I'll tell you a secret. Your brother does know how to smile. Quite nicely, actually. He doesn't always hide behind that fearful scowl."

Unexpectedly, Leah giggled, and then both girls were laughing. Scowling more fiercely than ever, Daniel stamped into his shop. But he left the door open behind him.

In Thacia's lighthearted presence, Leah was a different girl altogether. As he worked, Daniel caught, between the hissing of the forge and the blows of his hammer, the sound of their voices, and over and over again Leah's soft laughter. When he crossed the room for a tool he could see them, the two heads, dark and fair, bent over a bit of sewing. He found a good many excuses for walking across the shop that morning.