Mary of Nazareth by Marek Halter Page B

slaughter. Herod can hit hard, and he can hit fast. The Sanhedrin is under his thumb and has the rabbis on its side. That makes it not quite as dangerous as Herod, but just as effective.”
    â€œAlways the same excuse,” Barabbas grumbled. “A coward’s excuse.”
    â€œDon’t say such things! It takes as much courage to endure injustice as to fight in vain. And even if you managed to stir up Galilee, it wouldn’t lead anywhere. You’d have to stir up Jerusalem, Judea, the whole of Israel.”
    â€œLet’s go, then, let’s not waste any more time!”
    â€œBarabbas isn’t completely wrong, Father,” Miriam said calmly. “What’s the point of waiting for the mercenaries to strike again? Or for the tax collectors to pay us another visit? Why always let ourselves be humiliated? What benefit can come of it?”
    â€œAh, so now you think like him, do you?”
    â€œWhat he says is true. People are tired of submitting. And proud that you didn’t let the tax collectors steal Houlda’s candlestick. Your courage is an example to them.”
    â€œAn example as useless as a fit of anger, you ought to say.”
    â€œDon’t make yourself weaker than you are, Joachim.” Barabbas grunted. “Invite your wise men to your friend Yossef’s house. Obadiah can take them the message. And let me talk to them. Where’s the risk in that?”
    Joachim looked at Miriam, who nodded.
    â€œWhat’s the point of almost dying on the cross, Father, if it serves no purpose? Simply to hide in Galilee, all our lives, for nothing! It is we who decide if we are powerless before the king. To believe that his mercenaries are always stronger than us is to give him a reason to despise us.”

CHAPTER 5
    T HEY had taken a long, roundabout route along the foot of Mount Tabor, avoiding the more frequented paths and bypassing Nazareth. Now it was agreed that Miriam would go ahead to inform Halva and Yossef.
    On the winding path, lined with acacias and carob trees, leading to the crest of the hill, she walked so quickly that her feet barely touched the ground. As she approached the summit, there were more gaps in the hedges, and she saw the citron orchards, the little vineyard, and the two great plane trees surrounding Yossef’s house. Without her even being aware of it, her face lit up in a broad smile.
    Hearing bleating, she looked up. A flock of sheep and lambs was wandering in the field overlooking the path. She was about to turn away and run to the house when she glimpsed a figure amid the caper shrubs and the broom. She recognized the bright tunic, with its pretty blue and ocher embroidery, and the mane of wavy hair. “Halva! Halva!” she cried.
    Startled, Halva stopped dead, and shaded her eyes from the sun to make out who this person could be who was running toward her.
    â€œMiriam…God Almighty! Miriam!” She burst into both laughter and tears. “You’re alive!”
    â€œSo is my father…We saved him.”
    â€œI know, Yossef told me. He heard about it in the synagogue, but I didn’t dare believe it!”
    â€œIt’s wonderful to see you!”
    There were cries from beneath their feet. Halva broke free of Miriam. “Shimon, my little angel, you’re not jealous of Miriam, are you?”
    The little boy, barely two years old, fell silent and stared at Miriam openmouthed, with an extremely serious expression on his face. Suddenly, his big, sparkling brown eyes opened wide, and he held out his arms, babbling urgently.
    â€œI think he recognizes me, don’t you?” Miriam cried in delight. She laughed and bent down to pick him up. When she straightened up, she saw Halva looking pale and unsteady, with her hand over her mouth. “Halva! What’s the matter?”
    Breathing heavily, Halva tried to smile, and leaned on Miriam’s shoulder. “It’s nothing,” she said in a