The Bronze Bow - Elizabeth George Speare [72]
"Oh Daniel!" she gasped. "They have taken Joel!"
"The soldiers?"
"Yes. Oh I knew—I knew from the beginning that this would happen. What can we do?"
I knew it too, he thought, with a wave of sickness. "Where is he?"
"In the garrison. He didn't come home all night. This morning I went to the harbor and couldn't find him. I didn't know what to do. So I went to Kemuel and he managed to find out. They have been suspecting the centurion's kitchen slaves. Yesterday five slaves were flogged, and when Joel came to the door they took him."
"Did Kemuel find out any more?"
"They're sending some prisoners east in the morning. They've sentenced Joel to go with them. Does that mean the galleys? Daniel—Joel could not live in the galleys—he—"
Through his own horror Daniel saw that the girl was close to collapse. Numbly he reached out and touched her shoulder.
"Rosh will have planned for this," he said. "He will know what to do."
At his touch she began to weep wildly, her hands covering her face. She has borne this all night, he thought, and all day. Has she eaten or rested?
Through the open door to his house he saw Leah, standing behind her loom, staring. How much had she understood? With one arm across her shoulders he led Thacia to the door.
"Take care of her," he said to his sister. "I'm going up the mountain."
Leah came from behind the loom and held out her arms, and Thacia stumbled into them. The golden head bent gently over the dark one.
In two hours' time Daniel reached the cave. The thorn fire was blazing, and the fragrance of roasted mutton hung in the air. The men who sprawled on the ground barely glanced at him. At the mouth of the cave Rosh sat, rubbing at a fine ivory-handled dagger. He listened, giving more attention to the blade than to Daniel's distraught message.
"He was getting too confident," he grunted.
"They can't know who he is," Daniel urged. "Joel would never let them know his father's name. They'll think he's only a fisherman. They won't be looking for an attack."
"Attack?" Rosh repeated coldly. "What are you talking about?"
"If we move fast, we can surprise them on the road."
"We?"
"All of us will help you. You can count on us."
"Speak for yourself," Rosh said. "It's not my affair."
Anger exploded in a red blaze before Daniel's eyes. "Joel was following your orders!" he shouted. "You're responsible for him."
Rosh still rubbed at the steel. "On this mountain every man is responsible for himself. That holds for Joel."
Daniel held back his rage. "Listen to me, Rosh." He struggled to speak reasonably. "Eight of us took Samson."
"From the Romans? Use your head. We took Samson from some scurvy traders. Roman soldiers—that's another matter."
Desperately Daniel tried a different tack. "Joel is important to us," he argued.
"Important? He was stupid enough to get caught. You think I can spare eight men—or one man—for that?"
Daniel's control gave way. "You'd just use him and then let him go? Without even a try—?"
Rosh squinted up at him. "I've warned you before," he said, his voice ugly. "There's a soft streak in you. Till you get rid of it you're no good to the cause."
The red mist of anger cleared suddenly from Daniel's mind. He looked at the man who had been his leader. He saw the coarsened face with its tangle of dirty beard. He saw the hard mouth, the calculating little eyes. He saw a man he had never really looked at before.
"The cause!" he said with despair. "How could you know what it means?"
Fury mottled the man's face. "Take care, you—"
"Don't threaten me," Daniel said. "I am not one of your men. Not any longer."
Rosh coiled back. "You fool!" he spat out. "How far could you get without me?"
Daniel looked steadily into the narrowed black eyes. In another moment Rosh would spring at him. At the prospect his hands clenched with savage pleasure. But his mind was in control now. He could not