The Bronze Bow - Elizabeth George Speare [54]
Leah could not believe that the cloth was hers. Just to touch its smooth surface seemed to give her such joy that Daniel did not dare to suggest that it had a useful purpose. He waited for two mornings before he brought out the needle and thread. Leah watched his clumsy experiments, fascinated. Suddenly a squeal of laughter broke from her, so startling that he dropped the needle. He had never heard her laugh before! The breathy little sound died away as he stared at her.
"Oh Daniel! You hold it like one of those great iron things. Give me that."
"Can you thread a needle?" he asked, astonished.
"Anybody can thread a needle! Daniel, do you think—would you be angry with me if I made a dress out of the blue cloth?"
Through the door of the smithy he watched Leah spread the cloth on the floor, marveling at the capable way she turned it this way and that as she cut. Praise be! Perhaps she could even make him a new cloak!
14
IT STARTED with an innocent question.
"Daniel, what is a wedding?"
Across the mat with its earthen dishes, Daniel looked at his sister. They sat late over their morning meal. He knew that the shop door should be open, but he was in no hurry about it. Well into the morning hours he had celebrated the wedding of his new friend, Nathan, son of the tax collector. He felt heavy-limbed and slow-witted. He wished Leah would stop prodding him with questions.
How pitifully little the girl knew of the world outside their walls. Had their grandmother never talked to her? In the early days here in Simon's house, he and Leah had eaten their meals and done the work with few words. Then, out of his own loneliness, he had begun to talk, as he used to talk to Samson, sorting out his own thoughts aloud, not expecting any response. Leah had listened in silence, as Samson had done, but later she had astonished him by remembering. She had begun to ask questions, odd, childish questions that revealed an incredible ignorance. Lately, since Thacia's visit, there had been altogether too many questions. She wanted to know about the girls he saw in the village, what they wore, what they did in the town, what they talked about. He did his best to answer her, because he could understand how his words were like a window through which she could peek out at a world of people she did not dare to meet face to face. Now, scowling in the effort, he tried to tell her about a wedding.
"It's a feast," he said slowly. "On the day a man takes a bride into his house. When all his friends come to celebrate with him and wish him happiness."
"Does the bride have friends too?"
"Oh yes, all making a fuss and talking at once."
"Did many people come to Nathan's wedding?"
"Well no, not so many as usual, I guess. Of course this was the first wedding I've been to since—" Since that far-off night when he had carried a torch in his uncle's procession! He hurried on. "You see, Nathan is ashamed because his father is already making money from the tax collection, so he refused to let his father give the feast for him. I guess as weddings go it was a pretty poor one, but Nathan was satisfied."
"Did you have good things to eat?"
"Yes. Cakes and lots of fruit and grape wine." Curse his selfishness! Couldn't he have brought her a morsel?
"Tell me about it, Daniel!" Her blue eyes sparkled. He wished he had Joel's gift for words.
"First we went to the bride's house. Her family had made garlands out of flowers. Nathan and Deborah stood in the garden behind the house, because the house was too small to fit in so many people."
"Was the bride pretty?"
"I don't know. I guess Nathan thought so."
"As pretty as Thacia?"
For a moment he was disconcerted. Then he remembered that Thacia was the only girl she knew.
"No," he said honestly. "Not so pretty as you, either."
"What did she wear?" Leah looked pleased and flushed.
"Oh—" he floundered. "A dress—white I think it was. And a veil over her head, and the flowers. Then we all made a procession