The Bronze Bow - Elizabeth George Speare [65]
"He is talking to men. A girl can't understand such things!" He said it rudely, and too loudly, because Thacia's words had come close to his own secret doubts. So loudly that two passers-by turned to stare at them, and Thacia lowered her head and hurried her steps. When she spoke again she changed the subject.
"This thing that Joel is doing—is it dangerous? I don't quite understand it. Why does Rosh want those names?"
"I don't think it's dangerous," he told her, not quite truthfully. "Joel thinks fast. Don't worry about him." The last part of her question he did not answer. He did not want to admit that he could not see why Rosh wanted the names.
Thacia was only too willing to accept his assurance, and at once she was confident again. They left the stone houses behind them, passed through the wall of Capernaum, taking special care to greet the sentries, and took the broad road that led north into the hills.
All at once Daniel's muscles tensed. He had seen, just ahead, two figures in the familiar metal helmets. Two soldiers rested beside the road, their heavy packs in the dust. One of them sat on the stone wall, his spear leaning beside him. The other was adjusting the strap of his sandal, but he glanced up now, and Daniel saw that it was too late even to consider turning back.
"They're sure to speak to us," he cautioned Thacia under his breath.
"What if they do?" she asked. "That's what I came for, to be seen."
"All the same, you let me do the talking."
The two soldiers watched their approach with interest. "The gods have done us a favor after all," one of them said. "Didn't I predict it?"
"It's more than you deserve," said the other. "But who's to question the gods? Here, boy!"
With a snap of his finger he indicated the two packs. A quick upward jerk of his elbow made his orders clear.
Black anger rose in Daniel. He knew well enough the law that allowed a Roman to command that a Jew carry his burden for one mile. But the man didn't live who could make him shoulder a Roman pack! He looked squarely at the soldier. Then he spat, deliberately. The blow across his mouth came instantly and staggeringly, but he did not lower his head. The second soldier got to his feet, easily, carelessly, his eyes watchful.
There was a stifled gasp. Then Thacia very quietly stepped forward and lifted one of the packs. It was heavier than she expected and she paused a second, then made another try, and hoisted it awkwardly to her shoulders. The soldiers waited. Daniel stood in helpless fury. Then, for the first time in his life, he bent his neck to the Roman yoke and picked up the second pack.
He wanted to weep for shame. The blood pounded in his temples. He did not know which he hated more, the two soldiers or the girl who walked beside him, who had tricked him into this humiliation. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. She was walking at a fair pace, only a slight stagger betraying the effort. Let her stumble. Let her fall, and see if he cared! In a moment he looked sideways again. He saw the drops of moisture that clung to her forehead and trickled down her chin. Suddenly shame for her flooded over his own. Thacia!
"Put it down," he muttered, shifting closer to her. "I'll take mine on and come back for it."
"—nothing of the kind," she panted. "Keep quiet. Don't talk."
The two soldiers ambled behind them, chatting good-naturedly to each other, as though the two packbearers were mules. Finally they reached the milestone. By rights the soldiers could have made them go on, since they had taken the burdens well within the limits of the last stone. But Thacia's pace had become irksome, and it was obvious that though willing she could do no better. So the owner of her pack shouldered it himself, and less willingly the other let Daniel off also, with a parting blow on the ear for his sullenness. They strode ahead along the road, and Thacia sank down on the grass, rubbing her shoulder.
"Are you all right?" Daniel asked finally, not looking at her.
"No thanks to