The Bronze Bow - Elizabeth George Speare [18]
"I can't make the man out," he said finally. "What did he mean that the day is at hand?"
Simon walked on for a moment, his eyes on the ground. "I don't know what he meant," he said slowly. "But I intend to find out."
At a crossroads Simon left him. "I will look in on you tomorrow," he said. "Keep the cloak. It is an old one, but you may have some use from it."
Daniel walked on through the noonday heat, lingering to peer furtively at the people who passed. Though he shrank from their curious glances, he was in no hurry to return to his grandmother's house.
Without warning, the sound of a trumpet split the Sabbath calm. Instantly the peace around him dissolved into terror. There was a frantic scramble to be out of the road. Ahead of Daniel two women and a child darted senselessly to one side and then the other. The younger ran back to jerk her child after her, the older woman shrieking at them both. Barely was the way cleared when a detachment of Roman cavalry trotted by, the horses' hoofs sending up a choking cloud of dust.' In their rear four soldiers suddenly reined in, horses rearing, and stood guard. Some distance behind them marched a detachment of foot soldiers.
Paralyzed with hatred, Daniel watched them. This was not the same as looking down from the mountain. Here he could see them plainly. They were not even Romans but Samaritan auxiliaries, traitors, paid to fight in Caesar's army. He watched their brutish faces pass, one after another, looking neither right nor left. To smash those faces—even one of them! He bent and picked up a rock. "Infidels!" he shouted.
A hand slapped down over his mouth. Another hand gripped his upraised arm and forced it back. He felt himself jerked flat against a wall, held fast, while two men stepped in front of him, between him and the marching soldiers. With the sharp pressure of their hands on him, Daniel's senses came back. He stood still, not trying to fight them off. He saw that they had acted so quickly that not a soldier had noticed. The detachment went on down the road, their laced boots slapping an unbroken rhythm.
"Gone!" said a voice. "And no trouble, praise God."
"No thanks to this one," another voice rasped.
Abruptly the hands released his jaw and wrist. "Are you possessed?" one man hissed.
"One of those hotheads!" the other scoffed.
Another came closer, peering into his face. "Who are you, boy? Not one of ours, that's sure."
Daniel looked back at them sullenly. "I am Daniel bar Jamin."
"Son of Jamin? Wasn't it your father who—"
"Yes."
"Then you ought to know better. Do you want to bring the same curse down on all of us?"
"I despise them!" cried Daniel. "I have taken an oath!"
"Keep your oath to yourself," a man warned. "You Zealots cause nothing but trouble. You'll have every village in Galilee burned to the ground like Sepphoris."
Daniel knew he had behaved like a fool, but he would never admit it. He jerked away from them and walked scornfully down the road to the narrow alley that led to his grandmother's house.
At sundown the thin clear piping of the horn announced the end of the Sabbath. Promptly his grandmother snuffed out the Sabbath lamp, which had been burning ever since his arrival, and wrapped it carefully to put away for another week. The shadows settled closer around the one remaining flame in its saucer of smoking oil. With relief Daniel perceived that it was time to take himself to the rooftop for another night.
He was not sleep. The long afternoon of inactivity had left his body restless. He was hungry, despite the sacrifice of the two women who had barely touched the food. He sat on the rooftop and felt the village steaming and seething around him in the dark, like a great pot of stew. He hated the stifling, foul-smelling streets, the miserable houses crowded close together. He hated this moldering house filled with the sighs of his grandmother and the murmuring voice of Leah.