The Bronze Bow - Elizabeth George Speare [77]
In the darkness the same words echoed over and over. "They who live by the sword will perish by the sword." At first he could not recall where he had heard these words. They did not sound like Joel's scriptures. Then he remembered. Jesus had spoken them on a hot summer morning under a blue sky. Daniel had not questioned the words. To live by the sword was the best life he knew. To take the sword for his country's freedom and to perish by it—what better could a man hope for? But something he had not reckoned on had happened. He had taken the sword but Samson instead had perished by it, who had no freedom to gain, and Nathan, who had left behind a bride. Their deaths were on his head. And freedom was farther away than before.
Without the help of Joktan he could not have managed. The boy, who had come back to the village with him, could not do enough to prove his gratitude. Having never in all his memory had a house to live in, Joktan was not at all troubled that he could not enter Simon's house. He was content to eat his meals in the shop or on the doorstep where he could greet the passers-by. Far from missing the freedom of the mountain, he took naturally to village life. He went cheerfully every morning to the well for water, shrugging off the good-natured jibes of the girls. He delivered the work, making new friends everywhere with his jagged-toothed grin. Daniel's customers took the boy for a new apprentice and praised his willingness though they doubted that with his puny arms he could ever make a blacksmith.
Nine days had gone by since Joel and Thacia had returned to Capernaum, and no word had come from them. Day after day his friend's silence grew heavier to bear. Was Joel in danger? What were Joel's thoughts in the night? Did he regret now the vow he had taken? Had the feel of the Roman chains shaken his purpose?
Late one evening, as he was about to climb to the rooftop, there was a knock on the door of the shop. Lighting a second saucer of oil, Daniel went through the house door, and drew back the bolt. A stranger, heavily muffled in a dripping cloak, pushed in quickly, and shut the door behind him. With a rush of thankfulness Daniel saw that it was Joel. He could only clasp his friend's hand without speaking.
"Did you think I wouldn't come?" Joel asked with surprise. "It seemed wiser to wait."
"You are watched?"
"I'm afraid so. I've been out only once, on the Sabbath. Coming home from the synagogue with Father I met a steward of the centurion's. He recognized me, but I think he was not sure. So Father wouldn't let me go out again."
"Your father knows?"
"I couldn't keep it from him any longer. I told him everything, about the passageway, and the meetings, and my part in Rosh's work. I owed Father that, Daniel. When I saw how he had grown older in those two days—"
Joel had grown older too. His face had a new purpose.
"How he must despise me!" Daniel said with shame.
"For saving me? He sent you a message. He says you are not to hide in the passageway again. You're to come to the house whenever you like. In a way I wish he hadn't tried so hard to forgive us. It would have been easier tonight."
"Tonight?"
"I left without telling him. I'm not going back. If I can't stay here with you I'll go to the mountain and join Rosh."
In a burst of relief and joy, Daniel forgot every doubt. I low could he have thought that Joel would forget his vow? Now, working together, they could accomplish anything. The band would go on again, stronger than before. But almost at once a new doubt clouded out his pleasure.
"Why did you leave home, Joel? The band has never asked that of anyone."
"I can't stay at home.