The Bronze Bow - Elizabeth George Speare [69]
"So I've heard. Rob the rich to feed the poor. I'll be glad to see the poor that gets one penny of what he took last night."
"There may be more important needs," said Daniel.
"Like filling his own stomach? We'll see if he's satisfied now. We'll see if he lets our crops alone. I'll believe you when we can trust our sheep on the mountain."
Daniel started up the bellows and cut off the rest of the man's complaint. This was the third man since morning who had brought the news that had slithered out from the city like a swarm of snakes to every village round about. Some men praised Rosh's daring, elated to see the rich men defrauded. But more, like this man, were indignant.
At the first news, Daniel's spirits had soared. Then on the heels of rejoicing had come doubt. Now, at the end of the day, he felt dull and let down. This, then had been the reason for Joel's enterprise? A wholesale looting of rich men's houses. Somehow both boys had expected something more noble, more worthy of the cause. What did Joel think of it? Was it worth the hours lost from his study, the danger?
No question what Joel thought. That night the meeting in the watchtower was jubilant. Bit by bit the boys from the city had garnered every crumb of news to relate to the village boys. Joel was a hero twice over. Not only had he furnished all the information that had made the raid possible; he had even returned this morning to the very doors of the robbed houses, to listen to the full story from the unsuspecting kitchen slaves.
"I'm going to keep at it," he boasted. "It would be a shame to give up such an opening. I've got a special order from the centurion's head steward—two-dozen fish every second and fourth day of the week. There's no telling what I may chance on!" He was far too elated to notice Daniel's silence.
"Is Rosh in danger?" one of the boys asked. "The yellow rat who was caught—"
"Yellow?" another boy objected. "Do you know what the Romans do to a man? How long do you think you could keep quiet?"
There was an uncomfortable pause. This was a doubt they all faced in the night, in their own secret thoughts; they did not often speak of it.
"Don't worry about Rosh," Daniel assured them. "The Romans have had a price on Rosh's head for years. It's another matter to lay a finger on him."
Questions broke out again. What would Rosh do with the money? Would he buy arms with it? Would he divide it among the farms, maybe pay back for some of the sheep he had killed? There were so many needs for money. Daniel sat silent while they debated passionately the greatest needs for the stolen goods.
"Leave that to Rosh," he broke in finally. "It is for the cause."
The argument ended. They were perfectly satisfied. Looking at the circle of intense swarthy faces, at the flashing eyes, feeling the unquestioning loyalty that bound them all to Rosh, Daniel cursed his own heavy misgivings. Why could he not be satisfied with his own answer?
Nor were the villagers satisfied. Every day in the shop, in the marketplace, at the door of the synagogue, one heard the name of Rosh, sometimes bitterly condemned, sometimes as hotly defended. At last Rosh's name was on every lip, as he had once predicted. Some swore he was the defender of the Jews. But others pointed out that he had turned against Jews. But though they muttered, most men clung with blind faith to Rosh. They still looked to the mountain as the stronghold of freedom and hope.
The relay of messages which had succeeded so well, was now intensified. Joel threw himself into the role of fish peddler, and with experience he grew more shrewd in interpreting the bits of gossip, the signs of activity that he picked up in the doorways and kitchens of the city. Because he could not often leave home in the evening, other members of the band brought the messages to Daniel's shop. At night Joktan crept down the slopes like a jackal, across the cucumber field to the watchtower, and back to Rosh with the day's report.