15

ANY OTHER GIRL he would have kissed by now. But he had never felt this way about any other girl.

What held him back from an attempt now was not the brothers —they didn’t scare him, he had dodged brothers before —but instead a crazy, odd notion indeed: What did the Torah have to say about it? Nathanael nearly laughed out loud. Well, it was a curious thought anyway. The Torah and the Prophets and the oral tradition seemed to have everything in it, from the way James talked. Why not advice on the timing of a first kiss? First kiss with the most beautiful, remarkable girl he had ever met.

He tilted his head considering. Most beautiful? Apples to apples, no. Zipporah was more beautiful. Zipporah was . . . He watched Jorah straighten from the small kettle that hung on a tripod over the campfire. Zipporah was a droopy-faced crone next to Jorah ben Joseph.

He sighed and dropped his gaze. Wouldn’t do to let Simon see him watching her. It was prudent to keep the peace. James, maybe he would not care, neither Judas. But Simon would stick him on a spit and roast him dry for even a wayward thought about his sister. He smiled ruefully at that; if Jorah were his sister, he’d do the same.

Nathanael settled back on his elbows and looked to where the sun had set. Even the colors in the sky made him feel content. Listening to the faint strains of music from the caravan ahead . . . camping on this roadside . . . watching Judas and James converse near the fire. Watching Simon tease Jorah . . . it was easy to see Simon was Jorah’s favorite brother, a much mystifying fact . . . Now if only Annika were here to tell a story to, to fuss at him for not eating enough . . . no, he had no right to wish for perfection. What he had this evening was enough to content him for a year. If he could top it off with a single kiss, he would call it the best day of his life.

He looked over his shoulder to the two travelers behind. They did the same as Simon —they stopped when the party ahead stopped, moved when it moved. It showed they were smart; wary, as they should be, and safe with the presence of strangers a comfortable distance apart. He wondered if the two had a party behind them, keeping the same equidistance. He wondered what it looked like from a cloud, to see a ripple effect when dawn came, to see the caravan farthest ahead on the road arise and lead a much-scattered march to Jerusalem.

A pity the two were only two. They would enjoy a larger company, like the one he traveled with. They would enjoy Jude’s occasional comments; he did not talk as much as Simon or James, but when he did he had something to say. Something to make Nathanael laugh or think. And the two strangers would side with him about Simon, that he was smug and full of himself. An easily offended whiner. Perhaps they would see, too, the way Simon looked at James when James did not notice, ready to spring to his aid or order him to the cart. Twice he had made James ride the cart when he thought his brother had walked long enough. And James, strangely, had complied without protest.

What would the strangers think of James? Nathanael watched him study Judas as Judas talked quietly with his hands. How would Nathanael himself perceive him, if he did not have Seek James plastered to his soul?

He stood and stretched, then let his arms drop as he glanced again at the strangers. He knew what it was to be on the outskirts, to be a small number looking on. He didn’t like people to be afraid. Maybe in the morning he would take them one of Annika’s spiced cakes. Maybe he could invite them to join their number, if the others were open to it. People should not be afraid, not when there was no reason to be.

Whistling the tune he had heard earlier, he trotted down the slope and went to the four-wheel cart. He pulled out his bedroll and the sack with his personal belongings. Maybe tonight Simon could show him what to do with the knot he had come to in the piece of sycamore he was carving. Simon’s deft fingers could make a knot look as though it was meant to be there. Nathanael shared Annika’s sentiment; why he wanted to be a scribe, with the astonishing gift he had, was purely baffling.

Nathanael noticed the lamb tethered on a long rope to the back of the cart. It was curled up in a short thicket of brush, legs tucked underneath, sleeping peacefully. He usually tried to ignore the lamb, uncomfortable with its fate. He glanced about at the others in camp, then rummaged in a bread sack and broke off a bit of honeycake. Glancing around again, he set it near the lamb’s nose, where it would find it when it woke.

Joab pulled his blanket over him and rolled into it. If the days were softened with spring, the nights were still bone cold. Avi was squatting at the small campfire. He had first watch. Joab closed his eyes but opened them after a moment.

Avi was considering the blade of his short knife. He thumbed the edge, then stuck it point down in the sand. While Avi stared hard into the flickering flames of the campfire, he turned the knife by the handle. The rotating blade caught the glint of the firelight.

He had finally told Joab the plan.

Not long after meeting with Jonathan of Gush Halav last week, Avi changed his mind about the Teacher. They all had had such hopes for him, Jonathan told Avi, but once Raziel walked away it was only a matter of time before the rest did too. Jonathan had all but forgotten Jesus and was well on to other plans. He told Avi he should do the same.

Avi came to the conclusion that the Teacher’s family was a worthless lot. They needed to be taught a lesson. They had to be made to see that Roman violence begat violence, that the Roman presence created nothing but misery for all. Ultimately, it would be a generous act. He was going out of his way to offer a lesson that he hoped would reach the ears of the Teacher —one last chance to get his attention. Perhaps this would be the event to turn the heart of the Teacher, and his powers, to the cause.

Once Avi and Joab arrived in Jerusalem, they would spread the heartbreaking news that Roman soldiers had not spared violence even on the family of the gentle one from Galilee. Jesus would hear and would rise in rage for revenge.

Joab felt confident again. He knew Avi had a plan, had it all under control. Joab closed his eyes against the flash of the slowly spinning knife and, after a moment, opened them again.