The Bronze Bow - Elizabeth George Speare [35]
"It was just luck." Daniel explained about the dagger.
"Are you all right, Daniel? Thacia said your wound was not healed enough. You should have stayed here." With his usual thoughtfulness, Joel had brought a small loaf of bread, which Daniel munched gratefully.
"I must find Simon," Daniel said. "It's time I started for Bethsaida." He hesitated. "Could you go with me? This Jesus—I'd like to know what you make of him."
Joel considered. "There's talk about him everywhere," he said. "Do you think he's a Zealot? Father says he is dangerous. I'd like to see him myself. Yes, I think I'll risk it."
At dusk the two boys emerged from their hiding place, and Joel led the way through unfrequented streets till they came out on the path above the lake. Below them four men were sliding their boat into the water. As they watched, three of the men climbed aboard, one took the heavy oars in hand, the last man gave a shove, and the boat drifted slowly out from the shore, its image wavering on the glassy surface. The oarsman began to sing, and the others took up the melody. For a long time, as the boys walked on, the song floated back over the water with a strange sadness.
The village of Bethsaida was a tumbled mass of fishing shacks in the gathering darkness. Smoky light glimmered from the open doors of the huts. They followed the one narrow street till presently they overtook a man and woman who walked slowly to keep pace with a small boy who stumbled between them. Before Daniel could speak, the man looked back and questioned them instead.
"Do you know which would be the house of Simon the fisherman?"
"We're looking for it ourselves."
The man nodded. "With so many looking it shouldn't be hard to find. But the boy is getting tired. We've walked all the way from Cana today. They told us in town that the preacher would be at the home of Simon tonight."
Daniel glanced at the child, noting the way he hugged one arm close to his body, wrapping it in his mantle.
"It's his hand," the woman explained. She reached out and pulled the mantle aside. Both boys started at the glimpse of red swollen flesh. The child flashed them a look of fury, jerked the mantle back into place and trudged on, his eyes on the road.
"Bit by a camel," the man said. "Two months ago and it won't heal. I'm a weaver, and so the boy must be after me, and a weaver needs two good hands."
"We only heard about the preacher yesterday," said the woman. "We have not wasted any time."
Daniel was puzzled. "This preacher—is he a doctor as well?" he asked.
"Where do you come from, that you haven't heard about the preacher?" the man demanded. "Our neighbor who came back from Capernaum said that they talk of nothing else. My neighbor saw him heal a man who had been lame for twenty years. The man ran, he told me, ran like a young boy. If this preacher can do that, he can heal my son."
Daniel glanced at Joel uneasily. "Have you heard of this?" he asked under his breath.
Joel hesitated. "There is talk. Father says—" He checked himself, and the two walked on silently, keeping their doubts to themselves. It seemed a shame to have made a child walk all the way from Cana.
Presently the murmur of many voices came to them. The sound drew them away from the street into an alley, at the end of which they made out the outline of a house.
The square of light that was the doorway was choked by dark figures. People crowded the room inside and overflowed into the courtyard, blocking the path to the door. Some sat crosslegged on the ground or leaned against the gate. They seemed to be waiting. Daniel saw that many of them were ill. Some had been carried here and lay on the ground on crude litters. All about him he saw canes and crutches and the glimmer of bandages. From one corner of the yard smoke rolled from a clay oven, carrying a pungent odor of frying fish.
The two boys stepped around the litters, and Daniel plucked the coatsleeve of a man who leaned on the doorpost. "Peace," he said.
"Peace," responded the man. "There's