Read Online The Bronze Bow by Elizabeth George Speare - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth George Speare
Tags: Ages 8 and up, Newbery Medal
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airs, he could wager she had never seen a couch herself up to a month ago. No one in the village boasted such heathen nonsense.
Joel's mother, with a gracious word, led her daughter behind a silken screen, where they would both be hidden from view while the men of the family ate. More nonsense. Daniel was sure that in the village they must have sat on mats and eaten their meal together like any other family.
Through the prolonged hand-washing Daniel fidgeted, affronted by the silver pitchers, the fine tiny napkins, the hovering slaves. Then at the sight of the food a fierceness sprang up in him. He had drained every drop from the cup of date wine before he noticed that the others were holding theirs untouched. Too late he set down what remained of his small loaf of bread. He had torn into it like Samson himself, and he saw Hezron's lips flatten together. Curse their finicky rules. Had they ever felt the gnawing of an empty stomach?
"Your home?" Hezron inquired, after the scant portions of fish and fruit had been consumed in silence. "Is it far from Capernaum?"
Daniel dragged his attention from his empty bowl. "In Ketzah, sir."
"Indeed?" Hezron looked surprised. "Your father too? I do not seem to recall—"
"My father was Jamin, chief overseer of the vineyards."
"So," said Hezron, frowning. "I remember. A very tragic affair. He was a good man, your father, but a rash one."
His cool tone pricked Daniel's thin skin and stirred the anger that always smoldered close under the surface. He glowered at his plate, holding his tongue.
"You are the support of your mother?"
"My mother is not living either."
Hezron hesitated. "You have been doubly unfortunate," he said in a kinder tone, mistaking Daniel's anger for grief. "Do you follow your father's trade?"
"No. I was bound to Amalek, the ironsmith." Sold! he felt like shouting. Sold into slavery for a term of six years, to a man who was not fit to own even a mule. Had the rabbis protested then, or a single soul in the village lifted a finger to help him?
"Well," said Hezron reasonably, "it is necessary for every boy to learn a trade. Joel, as you probably know, was trained as a sandalmaker, as I was myself. Though I must say I applied myself with more diligence. I do not seem to remember seeing you in Amalek's shop."
"I didn't work there long."
"You can tell he's a blacksmith," Joel broke in, in an effort to swerve his father's questions. "With those muscles you'd be a sensation in the gymnasium, Daniel. Have you ever been there?"
"The Roman gymnasium?" Daniel glared at his friend. "I would never set foot in it!"
"I should hope not," said Hezron, with a scowl at his own son. "That was an ill-considered jest."
"Of course it was a jest, Father," Joel amended hastily.
"It is not a matter for jesting," his father said. "It is an outrage that some of our Jewish youths have been tempted to take part in these disgraceful games. And some of their elders even go to watch their shame."
"Well, there are other things in the city worth seeing," Joel persisted cheerfully. "This afternoon I'll take you about, Daniel."
Daniel stared down at his empty cup. The morsels of food had not begun to whet his hunger. The rabbi had deliberately put him at a disadvantage with every question. His resentment turned now even against Joel.
"I have seen enough," he said rudely. "All I can see is the Roman fortress and the eagles in the streets. Everywhere I turn I hear the ring of Roman boots on the pavement."
Joel, a worried line puckering his forehead, still attempted to steer his friend to safety. "I felt that way at first," he said. "But you do get used to it. For the most part they mind their own business. Some of them even try to be friendly."
"Friendly!" Daniel reared up on his couch. "This morning on the road I passed an old man mending the axle of his wagon. He was deaf and he couldn't hear the chariot coming. It caught his rear wheel—he said there was room and to spare. He swore the
Joel's mother, with a gracious word, led her daughter behind a silken screen, where they would both be hidden from view while the men of the family ate. More nonsense. Daniel was sure that in the village they must have sat on mats and eaten their meal together like any other family.
Through the prolonged hand-washing Daniel fidgeted, affronted by the silver pitchers, the fine tiny napkins, the hovering slaves. Then at the sight of the food a fierceness sprang up in him. He had drained every drop from the cup of date wine before he noticed that the others were holding theirs untouched. Too late he set down what remained of his small loaf of bread. He had torn into it like Samson himself, and he saw Hezron's lips flatten together. Curse their finicky rules. Had they ever felt the gnawing of an empty stomach?
"Your home?" Hezron inquired, after the scant portions of fish and fruit had been consumed in silence. "Is it far from Capernaum?"
Daniel dragged his attention from his empty bowl. "In Ketzah, sir."
"Indeed?" Hezron looked surprised. "Your father too? I do not seem to recall—"
"My father was Jamin, chief overseer of the vineyards."
"So," said Hezron, frowning. "I remember. A very tragic affair. He was a good man, your father, but a rash one."
His cool tone pricked Daniel's thin skin and stirred the anger that always smoldered close under the surface. He glowered at his plate, holding his tongue.
"You are the support of your mother?"
"My mother is not living either."
Hezron hesitated. "You have been doubly unfortunate," he said in a kinder tone, mistaking Daniel's anger for grief. "Do you follow your father's trade?"
"No. I was bound to Amalek, the ironsmith." Sold! he felt like shouting. Sold into slavery for a term of six years, to a man who was not fit to own even a mule. Had the rabbis protested then, or a single soul in the village lifted a finger to help him?
"Well," said Hezron reasonably, "it is necessary for every boy to learn a trade. Joel, as you probably know, was trained as a sandalmaker, as I was myself. Though I must say I applied myself with more diligence. I do not seem to remember seeing you in Amalek's shop."
"I didn't work there long."
"You can tell he's a blacksmith," Joel broke in, in an effort to swerve his father's questions. "With those muscles you'd be a sensation in the gymnasium, Daniel. Have you ever been there?"
"The Roman gymnasium?" Daniel glared at his friend. "I would never set foot in it!"
"I should hope not," said Hezron, with a scowl at his own son. "That was an ill-considered jest."
"Of course it was a jest, Father," Joel amended hastily.
"It is not a matter for jesting," his father said. "It is an outrage that some of our Jewish youths have been tempted to take part in these disgraceful games. And some of their elders even go to watch their shame."
"Well, there are other things in the city worth seeing," Joel persisted cheerfully. "This afternoon I'll take you about, Daniel."
Daniel stared down at his empty cup. The morsels of food had not begun to whet his hunger. The rabbi had deliberately put him at a disadvantage with every question. His resentment turned now even against Joel.
"I have seen enough," he said rudely. "All I can see is the Roman fortress and the eagles in the streets. Everywhere I turn I hear the ring of Roman boots on the pavement."
Joel, a worried line puckering his forehead, still attempted to steer his friend to safety. "I felt that way at first," he said. "But you do get used to it. For the most part they mind their own business. Some of them even try to be friendly."
"Friendly!" Daniel reared up on his couch. "This morning on the road I passed an old man mending the axle of his wagon. He was deaf and he couldn't hear the chariot coming. It caught his rear wheel—he said there was room and to spare. He swore the
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