For none of these victims did the boys feel the slightest pity. Any traitor who sold his goods to the Romans did so at his own risk. Those who flaunted their wealth or patronized a Roman theater were fair prey. And every cruse of oil, every silver talent swelled the fund that would soon maintain the army of Israel.
As Rosh grew bolder, caravans and travelers increased their protection. The mountain outlaws also suffered losses. Two more men fell into Roman hands, three were secretly buried after night attacks, and four more nursed wounds in the cave. Rosh needed more recruits. Thus it came about that the boys were admitted at last into Rosh's active service, and came to see the action they had craved. Not the trained army that Daniel had dreamed of marching to confront Rosh. Only a guerrilla force of nineteen eager boys. They met at the watchtower, coming one by one, crawling on hands and knees through the tangled vines, to wait, on fire with impatience, for a summons from Rosh. Throughout the village there was a sudden rash of bandages. Boys limped with a swagger, leered smugly through purpled eyelids and grinned through swollen lips.
To harrass the Romans was their real delight. A pilfered bit of Roman equipment, a spur, a leather gauntlet, was a prize worth risking one's neck for. One city boy, who had made off with a helmet even while a legionary who had laid it aside stooped to take a drink at the well, was almost as great a hero as Joel himself.
Much of all this Daniel watched with dismay. It was not for this sort of skirmishing that he had dreamed of raising a band. To him many of the exploits they boasted seemed childish. It had been his plan to wait, to train, to grow strong, and then to strike. This activity was like a fire lighted too soon. Would it burn itself out before the day had come?
But even he was proud of the catapult. Two boys brought word of it one evening, rushing into the shop out of breath.
"Right on the road they've left it!" one of them panted. "Only two guards. It's one of the big engines they used in the siege of Sepphoris. A wheel crumpled and they've had to leave it there till morning."
"I'll tell Rosh," said Daniel, laying down his hammer.
"Wait! Let's take care of this one ourselves," the other boy suggested. "What could Rosh do with a catapult? Come on, Daniel. We discovered this. Why can't we have some of the fun for ourselves?"
"We can stuff it with oiled rags and set fire to it! What a bonfire that would make!"
"Enough to be seen for miles," Daniel reminded him. "No use to burn good wood. We're in need of supplies, not bonfires."
"We'll take it apart, then," they decided. Before he could make up his mind, they had taken the lead out of his hands. The word went out. Hurriedly they scrambled together weapons, files from the shop, chisels, and mallets. One at a time, by various routes, they made their way to a point overlooking the Via Maris and looked down at the monster that crouched there like an unearthly beast in the darkness.
"What do you suppose they're moving that thing for?" someone whispered.
"I've a good idea," Daniel answered. "It's the kind of thing Herod used against the caves at Arbela."
"You think they'd dare to attack Rosh?"
"If he makes enough trouble for them."
"All the more reason," said the boy. "We'll do away with it."
"Wait," cautioned Daniel. "The guards are not to be killed. It would mean death in the village. I'll take one of them, Nathan takes the other, the way I've taught him."
Before the guard knew that anyone was near, Daniel had one arm about his throat. When the man lay, stunned and gagged, Daniel relieved him of spear and dagger. A moment later a sharp whistle announced that the second guard also was overcome. One by one, shadowy figures crept from the rocks and surrounded the monster. They worked silently, muffling under their cloaks the rasp of the file and the chipping of the chisel. Bit by bit, plank by plank, the monster shrank and crumpled. Over and over, during the long night, the boys retraced the devious path to the watchtower, staggering under heavy planks and crossbeams. When the sun rose next morning the catapult had disappeared without a trace. Nor did Roman offers of reward or threats of reprisal produce a single hint of its whereabouts.
The boys were wild with success. They swaggered through the village, taking little pains to hide their barked shins and blistered palms. Daniel tried to warn them.
"You will ruin everything," he urged. "This is only the beginning."
"Why?" they demanded. "Why can't we strike now? Look at the people. Would one of them give us away? They are just waiting. One word and they'll be with us. Why doesn't Rosh give the word?"
Joel sent warnings from the city. The Romans were strengthening their forces. A detachment of footguard had come up from Tiberias to join the garrison. The road patrol had been doubled. Even in the village unfamiliar soldiers strolled, apparently without purpose, their eyes alert under their helmets. Daniel insisted there would be no nightly activity for a time. The boys, chafing under the restraint, went scowling about the village. There was an explosive quality in the air.
One morning a shepherd hurried into town with word that three of the town flock had been snared and slaughtered. That morning two men visited Daniel's shop.
"They say you can get a message to Rosh if you choose," one began.
Daniel did not answer.
"If you can, tell him this: he is to leave our sheep alone."
"Do you begrudge a sheep now and then," asked Daniel quietly, "to the man who would give his life for your freedom?"
"We have had enough of his brand of freedom. He's free up there. Free from the taxes that bleed us dry. Free to play with the Romans while we stand and take the punishment. By the prophets, if you have any fondness for this savior of yours, warn him now. We have had enough."
Two days later a farmer, about to move with his family to man the watchtower in his field, came upon his nearripened crop and found it plundered, trampled, wantonly ruined.
Dismayed, Daniel climbed the mountain to take the warning to Rosh, only to have Rosh laugh in his face.
"They are afraid of their own shadows," Rosh jeered. "What good are they but to raise food for men who will fight?"
"They are desperate," Daniel urged. "You know they cannot carry arms themselves. They are going to appeal to the centurion for protection. They want him to send legionaries."
"Let them come!" Rosh boasted. "Let them get a taste of the mountain. They will only break their teeth on it."
Daniel went back to the village sick at heart.
We must hurry, he thought with despair. The whole village is turning against him. If the day does not come soon, they will never follow him.
L
ATE IN THE AFTERNOON
on the last day of the month of Ebul, Daniel, looking up from his work, saw a figure hurrying along the road, an unfamiliar figure, muffled in a heavy turban and moving with a haste that warned him of trouble. He put down his hammer and waited. It was only when the stranger entered the shadow of the doorway and pushed back the turban that he saw it was Thacia. Who could have imagined that Thacia could look like this—stricken, gray-faced, the wet hair clinging to her forehead?
"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 fight with Rosh. The very strength of his hands he owed to this man. And what good would it do Joel? He turned away without speaking, and passed through the ring of silent, wary men. He knew that he was through with the mountain for ever.
As he went down the trail footsteps came pounding after him. "Daniel—w-wait!" It was Joktan. "W-what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to get Joel."
"By yourself?"
"No. There are nineteen of us."
"T-twenty," said Joktan. He had drawn himself up to his last skinny inch. "Let me go with you!" he pleaded, before Daniel could refuse.
Daniel decided quickly. "Come then," he said. "You can't be worse off."
Even in his haste he felt a sharp disappointment and regret. He had hoped that the footsteps were Samson's. He would have liked to say good-bye to the big man, to clasp the man's hand, to try to tell him not to watch anymore. But this too he must put behind him.
He and Joktan had the trail to themselves. But as he went down, the uncanny feeling grew on him that someone was behind. Had Rosh sent someone to follow him? Time and again he whirled about, but he could see nothing. His skin kept prickling. He quickened his stride till Joktan was running to keep pace.
In the watchtower twelve boys waited in the darkness, making no sound. One by one others crawled through the field to join them. Kemuel had summoned every boy in the city.
"What is Rosh going to do?" they greeted Daniel, their faces sober.
They read the answer in his silence.
"Nothing?" Nathan cried out, incredulous. "After Joel has—" His voice broke.
The others stared at Daniel, too stunned and angry to speak. I have failed them all, he thought. They trusted me!
"What does it matter?" Kemuel suddenly lashed out with scorn. "We don't need your Rosh—your great leader! We'll do without him."
Tumult exploded in the watchtower, anger flaring instantly into new hope.
"Wait," Daniel silenced them. "Let's have one thing clear. Maybe some of you think as Rosh does—that every man answers only for himself."
"We answer for each other!" Nathan spoke swiftly. A dozen voices echoed him with passion. Kemuel cut sharply across the clamor.
"Do you have a plan?"
"Yes," said Daniel. At once every boy was quiet.
"For nineteen against a Roman force?"
"Twenty," said Daniel, his hand on Joktan's shoulder. "If we use our heads, we can make twenty count for a hundred. We won't try to fight them. We will only get Joel."
"How?" Confidence had come back to their voices.
"On the road." Daniel's mind was working clearly now. "We can't break into the garrison. We can't afford to meet the Romans face to face. We can go south, beyond Magdala, and wait in the pass near Arbela. On the cliff we can spread out and throw down rocks so that they won't know how many we are. The Romans have no reason to expect an attack. When we have stirred up as much confusion as we can, then we take Joel."