puzzled expression.
âAre you unwell?â she asked kindly.
âNo. Iâm . . . Iâve never had an orange before.â Avel struggled to respond, his attention focused on the retreating backs of the two rebels. It had been so close, too close! If Kittim had not been distracted by something up ahead . . .
What was Kittim focused on? The sparrow killer raised his head, as if sniffing the air for prey!
Avel jumped to his feet when Kittim nudged Asher in the ribs. The two hesitated an instant, then resumed, picking up their pace!
The sparrow killer had spotted Emet and Ha-or Tov!
âSorry,â Avel said, thrusting the rest of the orange and the bread back into his companionâs lap. âIâm late. Have to catch up!â
He bolted.
Darting onto the first switchback, Avel caught sight of Kittim racing down the trail, cutting across corners in his haste to overtake Emet and Ha-or Tov.
And what could Avel, commanded by Yeshua to care for Emet and Ha-or Tov, do to stop their capture?
Kittim was almost upon Avelâs unsuspecting friends. Asher was only a few paces behind.
If Avel called out the warning that there were rebels on the road, would anyone believe him? And how many would be hurt when Kittim and Asher drew their knives?
Too late!
In his second of indecision Avel saw Kittim reach out and grasp Ha-or Tovâs collar. Ha-or Tovâs curly red hair flung wide from his head as Kittim spun the boy around to face him.
Emetâs mouth was open. He was shouting something. Shouting to be left alone! Shouting that they were being attacked by robbers! It was an unlikely scenario: two young boys being robbed. But it was effective nonetheless.
A broad-shouldered, bull-like man reared up from his lunch in the grass and boomed into the dispute with a roar of indignation.
Avel recognized Nakdimon ben Gurion! Dressed in a commonerâs clothes, the black-bearded member of the Sanhedrin was taking the part of the two boys!
Asher turned from his path and slunk off, evidently not wanting to encounter a foe as formidable as Nakdimon. Kittim blinked down into the eyes of Ha-or Tov, released his grip, raised his hands in a sort of apology, and backed away.
As abruptly as it began, the encounter was over.
To Avelâs surprise Kittim thrust Ha-or Tov aside and yelled back at the big man. Asher, hood over his head, jogged past. Kittim joined him, and the two rebels disappeared in the distance.
What had happened? How had tragedy been averted?
Realizing that rejoining his two companions wouldnât be sensible at the moment, Avel forced himself to calm his heart, his breath, and his pace.
Ha-or Tov and Emet trailed close at the heels of Nakdimon the rest of the journey to the next caravansary.
Avel kept his distance and considered the danger that lay ahead on the road to Beth-lehem.
ADONAI
B athed, dressed in the red tunic of a soldier, his hair washed and lightly oiled, and his feet in clean sandals, Centurion Marcus Longinus felt more relaxed than at any time in weeks. Ever since Felix had suggested Marcus discard his uniform and pass as a civilian in order to investigate Yeshua of Nazareth, the centurion had been uneasy.
Marcus had gained a reputation for heroism at the battle of Idistaviso, where he had saved the left flank of the Roman army from disintegrating. He was a man of honor who kept his vows and spoke the plain facts as he saw them. Spying had not come naturally to him, nor had the assignment been to his liking.
He was grateful to be getting back into uniform. He was not ashamed to be a Roman centurion, so let his appearance announce the truth. All that was left of his disguise was his beard and untrimmed hair, and both those items would be attended to presently.
Felix joined him an hour before sunset on the curving promenade connecting the officersâ quarters to the harbor. The breeze from the sea was bracing.
Extending a cup of wine, Felix indicated a stone
âAre you unwell?â she asked kindly.
âNo. Iâm . . . Iâve never had an orange before.â Avel struggled to respond, his attention focused on the retreating backs of the two rebels. It had been so close, too close! If Kittim had not been distracted by something up ahead . . .
What was Kittim focused on? The sparrow killer raised his head, as if sniffing the air for prey!
Avel jumped to his feet when Kittim nudged Asher in the ribs. The two hesitated an instant, then resumed, picking up their pace!
The sparrow killer had spotted Emet and Ha-or Tov!
âSorry,â Avel said, thrusting the rest of the orange and the bread back into his companionâs lap. âIâm late. Have to catch up!â
He bolted.
Darting onto the first switchback, Avel caught sight of Kittim racing down the trail, cutting across corners in his haste to overtake Emet and Ha-or Tov.
And what could Avel, commanded by Yeshua to care for Emet and Ha-or Tov, do to stop their capture?
Kittim was almost upon Avelâs unsuspecting friends. Asher was only a few paces behind.
If Avel called out the warning that there were rebels on the road, would anyone believe him? And how many would be hurt when Kittim and Asher drew their knives?
Too late!
In his second of indecision Avel saw Kittim reach out and grasp Ha-or Tovâs collar. Ha-or Tovâs curly red hair flung wide from his head as Kittim spun the boy around to face him.
Emetâs mouth was open. He was shouting something. Shouting to be left alone! Shouting that they were being attacked by robbers! It was an unlikely scenario: two young boys being robbed. But it was effective nonetheless.
A broad-shouldered, bull-like man reared up from his lunch in the grass and boomed into the dispute with a roar of indignation.
Avel recognized Nakdimon ben Gurion! Dressed in a commonerâs clothes, the black-bearded member of the Sanhedrin was taking the part of the two boys!
Asher turned from his path and slunk off, evidently not wanting to encounter a foe as formidable as Nakdimon. Kittim blinked down into the eyes of Ha-or Tov, released his grip, raised his hands in a sort of apology, and backed away.
As abruptly as it began, the encounter was over.
To Avelâs surprise Kittim thrust Ha-or Tov aside and yelled back at the big man. Asher, hood over his head, jogged past. Kittim joined him, and the two rebels disappeared in the distance.
What had happened? How had tragedy been averted?
Realizing that rejoining his two companions wouldnât be sensible at the moment, Avel forced himself to calm his heart, his breath, and his pace.
Ha-or Tov and Emet trailed close at the heels of Nakdimon the rest of the journey to the next caravansary.
Avel kept his distance and considered the danger that lay ahead on the road to Beth-lehem.
ADONAI
B athed, dressed in the red tunic of a soldier, his hair washed and lightly oiled, and his feet in clean sandals, Centurion Marcus Longinus felt more relaxed than at any time in weeks. Ever since Felix had suggested Marcus discard his uniform and pass as a civilian in order to investigate Yeshua of Nazareth, the centurion had been uneasy.
Marcus had gained a reputation for heroism at the battle of Idistaviso, where he had saved the left flank of the Roman army from disintegrating. He was a man of honor who kept his vows and spoke the plain facts as he saw them. Spying had not come naturally to him, nor had the assignment been to his liking.
He was grateful to be getting back into uniform. He was not ashamed to be a Roman centurion, so let his appearance announce the truth. All that was left of his disguise was his beard and untrimmed hair, and both those items would be attended to presently.
Felix joined him an hour before sunset on the curving promenade connecting the officersâ quarters to the harbor. The breeze from the sea was bracing.
Extending a cup of wine, Felix indicated a stone
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