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To get herself killed at the earliest opportunity? To fuel the resentment of the Romans and the king’s mercenaries, who would be sure to turn against all of them?
    They were intoxicated with their own fearful imaginings, wallowing in their own powerlessness. Although she knew they were all fond of her and wanted what was best for her, Miriam started to feel disgusted.
    She slipped out onto the terrace. Filled with all the sadness of the day, she lay down on the logs that concealed the hiding place her father had made for her when she was only a little girl. It was no use to her now. She closed her eyes and let the tears well up beneath her eyelids.
    She had to weep now, for soon, without anyone noticing, she would do what she had said. She would leave Nazareth and save her father. There would be no time for weeping then.
    In the darkness, Joachim’s face came back to her. Gentle, friendly—and terrifying, too, the way it had been when he had struck the mercenary.
    He was the gentlest of men, a man they sought out to patch up quarrels between neighbors, but he had had the courage to do what he had done. He had done it for her, for old Houlda, and for all of them, the inhabitants of Nazareth. Now she had to have the same courage. What was the point of waiting for dawn if the coming day did not see you fighting the things that humiliate and destroy you?
    She opened her eyes again and forced herself to look up at the stars, trying to sense the presence of the Almighty. Oh, if only she could ask him whether he wanted her father’s life!
    Something brushed against her, and she jumped.
    â€œIt’s me,” Halva whispered. “I guessed you were here.” She seized Miriam’s hand, squeezed it, and kissed the fingertips. “They’re afraid and they’re sad, so they can’t stop talking,” she said, pointing downstairs, from where raised voices could still be heard.
    Miriam said nothing.
    â€œYou’re going to leave before dawn, aren’t you?” Halva went on.
    â€œYes, I must.”
    â€œYou’re right. If you like, I can take our mule and go with you a little way.”
    â€œWhat will Yossef say?”
    â€œI already talked to him. If it wasn’t for the children, he’d go with you himself.”
    There was no need to say any more. Miriam knew that Yossef loved Joachim like a son. He owed him everything he knew about carpentry. Joachim had even given him his house, two leagues from Nazareth, the house where he had been born.
    Halva laughed tenderly. “Except that Yossef is the last man I could imagine fighting mercenaries! He’s so timid, he doesn’t dare say what he thinks!”
    She drew Miriam to her, and went with her to the stairs.
    â€œI’ll walk in front, so they don’t see you leave. We’ll go to my house. I’ll give you a cloak; that way, your mother won’t know. And you can have a few hours’ rest before we set off.”

CHAPTER 2
    B Y the time they left the forest, the sun was rising above the hills. Far below, nestled deep in the valley at the foot of the path they were on, between the flowering orchards and the fields of flax, they could see the huddled roofs of Sepphoris. Halva stopped the cart.
    â€œI’m going to leave you here. I mustn’t get back to Nazareth too late.” She drew Miriam to her. “Be careful with this Barabbas! After all he’s still a bit of a bandit….”
    â€œIf I even manage to find him.” Miriam sighed.
    â€œYou will, I’m sure of it. Just as I’m sure you’re going to save your father from the cross.” Halva kissed her again, not a mischievous kiss this time, but a tender, solemn one. “I feel it in my heart, Miriam. I just have to look at you to feel it. You’re going to save Joachim. Trust me. My intuition never lets me down!”
    They had both been thinking, as they walked, about the best way to find Barabbas.