Read Online Second Touch by Bodie Thoene, Brock Thoene - Free Book Online Page B

exactly the question Avel was aching to pose. Since being sent to Zadok by Yeshua, Avel had found in the grizzled shepherd a protector and grandfather, whom he vowed never to leave. Wherever Zadok went, Avel and his two friends would be going too. “I shall go to him, of course,” Zadok said quietly. “To Yeshua.” Avel watched the Roman officer indicate his acceptance. “¬I’m thinking of resigning my commission,” Marcus said. “So I can do the same.” To Avel’s disbelief Zadok contradicted Marcus. “Don’t give up your office lightly,” he argued. “Y’ do more good where y’ are.” Further discussion had to be postponed because of Ha-or Tov’s treble cry, “In sight now: two columns of men marching. Round helmets, brown tunics. One man on horseback.” Temple Guards. Avel had many times ducked away from the cuffs and slaps of such men while he was a Jerusalem Sparrow, one of the orphan boys who nightly carried torches to earn their daily bread. Marcus stood up. “You won’t accept the hand of Rome,” he repeated, “but I trust you’ll accept my hand, though it is a Roman who offers.” As Zadok stood, Avel saw the two men grasp each other by the forearm. Father and son they could have been, Avel thought. One looked the way prophets of old were described: visage like a mountain thunderstorm, implacable, able to speak to and for the Almighty with equal assurance. The other was short-haired, clean-shaven, and exuded physical confidence and courage. They were a formidable pair, corresponding in both integrity and force of will. The sound of tramping feet approaching up the dusty lane echoed between the rock walls of the sheepfold. “Troop halt!” Avel heard the shouted command. Then, “Zadok of Migdal Eder, show yourself!” “They ¬don’t know ¬I’m here,” Marcus noted. “Let’s see what they say before they know a Roman officer is a witness.” To Avel, Zadok said, “Hand me my staff, boy. And stay close to me.” Avel

retrieved Zadok’s fire-hardened rod of almond wood. With it in hand the Chief Shepherd looked even more like the stories told of Elijah or Moses. “Who calls for Zadok?” the man rumbled as he emerged from the tower. Blinking in the sunlight, Avel stood behind him. The other shepherds still stood in postures of nervous defiance. The one called Lev had a sling dangling at his side. A rock the size of Avel’s fist protruded from the leather pocket hanging by Lev’s knee. Lev could knock a quail out of a tree or hit a badger in the eye; Avel had seen him do both. At this range at least one of the Temple Guards would fall as hard as Goliath before David. There was a captain at the head of the marching columns of men, but he ¬didn’t speak. Instead the lone mounted man demanded again, “Chief Shepherd Zadok?” “Eglon,” Zadok identified in a voice dripping with disdain. “Y’ have no business here. Go back and tell that old fox, your master Antipas, that the Chief Shepherd of Israel ¬doesn’t come when a butcher’s son calls him.” “I’ll have you dragged back in chains,” Eglon blustered. “¬I’m here by special request of my lord Caiaphas. You’re discharged.” “Where the body is, there will the vultures gather,” Zadok said. “So Herod Antipas, the viper of the Galil, has taken refuge with the whitewashed tombs of Yerushalayim.” Eglon nudged his horse forward a half-dozen paces, flicking the quirt in his hand as if he would lash Zadok in the face. Avel saw Zadok reach and restrain Lev’s sling arm, though Eglon appeared not to notice. “Old man, you’ve insulted the tetrarch for the last time!” Marcus stepped into the sunlight. “C-centurion,” Eglon stammered with surprise, “I ¬didn’t know—” “Obviously not,” Marcus intoned sternly. “¬I’m aware of your orders. The Chief Shepherd is correct. You’re a messenger boy . . . nothing more.” Then rejecting any further conversation with Eglon, Marcus addressed the