The Bronze Bow - Elizabeth George Speare [45]
This time Daniel did not look away. He faced his chief levelly. "I will prove you are wrong," he said quietly. "I will work for the cause in the village. You will see. I belong here on the mountain. I'll never forget that. But now I am going back, and tomorrow I will move into the house of Simon the Zealot."
Next morning he cleared out the little house. There was practically nothing worth taking. Surely there had been more than this in the days when he had lived with his grandmother. He remembered very clearly a blue glazed dish she had cherished, and a red woolen rug that had hung against the wall. Probably she had sold them for food. The decent and usable things he could salvage from the whole house went into a very small pack.
Since his grandmother had died, Leah had sat quietly, waiting, her hands folded. Like a small child, she did as she was told, ate what he brought to her.
"Will Grandmother be hungry?" she asked once.
"No," Daniel answered.
"Is it cold where she is?"
"She will never be hungry or cold again," he promised her. Now he explained to her as gently as he could that they must move.
"Simon's house is much nicer than this. It will keep out the rats and the rain and the cold in winter. You will have a mattress to sleep on like a rich girl."
She listened with wide unfathomable blue eyes, and he thought she understood. But when the moment came to leave, he saw he was mistaken. As he opened the door she shrank from the sunlight as though it were a sword. Outside in the roadway a handful of neighbors had gathered to watch his departure. One glimpse of them sent Leah cowering against the wall. Nothing Daniel could say persuaded her to move a step. Daniel's impatience mounted. He was tempted to pick her up and carry her, without any nonsense. But some instinct told him that if he laid a finger on her by force he might never win her back again. Finally he went out to speak to the neighbors.
"It is no good," he told them. "She can't abide being looked at. We could never get across the town. I will have to leave her here alone while I'm working."
"Better tie her up," one man advised, keeping the width of the road between him and the house. "Kin of mine has a daughter is possessed. They've kept her on a chain all her life."
Daniel shook his head. He'd seen such people, poor raving creatures tied to trees like dogs. Before he put a rope on Leah he would stay in this house till it crumbled to pieces around them. He went back into the house and slammed the door behind him, sending a shower of dust and clay across the floor.
In the afternoon he answered a cautious knock. Just outside the door stood a vehicle so extraordinary that he stood peering out at it, not realizing what it could be. An aged carpenter who lived a short way down the road stood beside the thing, grinning.
"It's a litter," he explained. "Like those fancy Roman ladies ride around in. Lift your sister in and she'll be as snug as in her own bed. My wife sewed all our cloaks together to make the curtains. There's four men ready to carry it for you, but we'll stay out of sight till she's inside."
A lump pushed up against Daniel's throat. Once again he felt shamed. Why should they show such kindness to a stranger and an outcast?
When every neighbor had tactfully vanished from the street, Daniel inveigled Leah into taking one look through the door.
"That's the way queens travel," he told her. "The way the Queen of Sheba came to visit King Solomon. You will sit inside it and we'll pull the curtains tight around you. In no time at all we'll be at the new house."
She shook her head. He did not hurry her. He could see that her curiosity was piqued. From time to time the blue eyes slanted toward the door.
"No one can see me in there?" she asked finally.
"Not so much as your little finger."
"Do I have to go away from here, Daniel?"
"I want you to be near me when I work. Wouldn't you like that, Leah?"
After a long time she seemed to give in. She moved toward the door and stood, still terrified. Then before she could refuse again,