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"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.

2

WAIT 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