Read Online Mary of Nazareth by Marek Halter - Free Book Online Page A

“What do you think? That you can fight Herod’s mercenaries the way you sew a dress? Or that attacking his fortresses is as simple as robbing a caravan of Arab merchants? You can’t be serious, Miriam of Nazareth. You have no idea what you’re talking about!”
    A shiver of dread went through Miriam. Never for a moment had she imagined that Barabbas might refuse to help her. Never for a moment had she thought that the people of Nazareth might be right.
    Was Barabbas nothing but a thief, then? Had he forgotten the fine-sounding words he had used to justify his activities? Her disappointment was replaced by contempt. Barabbas the rebel was no more. He had acquired a taste for luxury, he had become corrupted by the things he stole and had become like their original owners: a hypocrite, more interested in gold and silver than in justice. His courage amounted to nothing but easy victories.
    She rose from her stool. She wasn’t going to humiliate herself before Barabbas, she wasn’t going to beg. She assumed a haughty smile and was about to thank him for his hospitality.
    He leaped forward, his hand raised. “Stop! I know what you’re thinking. I can see it in your eyes. You think I’ve forgotten what I owe you, that I’m only a robber of caravans. All nonsense! You’re not thinking with your head, only with your heart!”
    His voice throbbed with anger, and his fists were clenched. Some of his companions came closer, drawn by his raised voice.
    â€œBarabbas hasn’t changed,” he went on. “I steal to live and to support those who follow me. Like those boys you saw earlier.” He pointed at those who had approached. “Do you know who they are?
Am ha’aretz.
People who’ve lost everything because of Herod and those misers in the Sanhedrin. They no longer expect anything of anyone. Especially not from the subservient Jews of Galilee! Nor from the rabbis, who do nothing but mumble meaningless words and bore us rigid with their lessons. ‘May those who come from the mud return to the mud!’—that’s what they think. If we didn’t steal from the rich, we’d die of starvation, that’s the truth. And the people of Nazareth certainly wouldn’t care.”
    He was shouting now, the veins standing out on his forehead, his cheeks flushed with anger. Everyone pressed behind him, facing Miriam. Obadiah pushed his way through to the front.
    â€œI never forget my objective, Miriam of Nazareth!” Barabbas cried, beating his chest. “Never! Not even when I’m asleep. To bring down Herod and drive the Romans out of Israel, that’s what I want. And to kick the asses of those bastards in the Sanhedrin who get fat off the people’s misery.”
    Unimpressed by the ferocity of his words, Miriam shook her head. “And how do you plan to bring down Herod, if you can’t even get my father out of the fortress of Tarichea?”
    Barabbas slapped his thighs, his eyes screwed up with anger. “You’re only a girl, you don’t understand anything about war! I don’t care if I die. But these people follow me because they know I wouldn’t drag them into any futile adventures. The fortress of Tarichea is guarded by two Roman cohorts. Five hundred legionnaires. Plus a hundred mercenaries. How many of us are there? We’ll never get to your father. What use would our deaths be? The only person who’d benefit would be Herod!”
    Pale-faced, her hands shaking, Miriam nodded. “Yes. Of course you’re right. I was mistaken. I thought you were stronger than you are.”
    Barabbas let out a cry that echoed across the pool and throbbed between the columns. Miriam was already heading for the exit, but he gripped her arm.
    â€œYou’re mad, raving mad! You don’t understand, do you? Even if he could get out of the fortress, your father will be like us for the rest of his life. A fugitive.