Mary of Nazareth by Marek Halter Read Free Book Online Page A

were not impressed. They immediately slapped its sides and imitated its braying. Then, all at once, they were crowding around Miriam, laughing at their own antics like the children that they were, forcing her to come to a halt again.
    Their laughter wiped out her fear. Yes, they were just children, amusing themselves with what they could: a scared donkey and a stupid, scared girl!
    Halva’s words crossed her mind. “Find likely looking people.” Well, here they were; these were likely looking people. The Almighty was offering her the opportunity she had despaired of ever getting, and if Barabbas was what they said, well, she had found the messengers she needed.
    She turned suddenly, and the children leaped back, like a pack of dogs afraid of being hit.
    â€œI mean you no harm!” Miriam cried. “I need your help!”
    Ten pairs of eyes looked at her suspiciously. She looked for a face that appeared more reasonable than the others. But they all looked the same: dirty and mistrustful.
    â€œI’m looking for a man named Barabbas,” she said. “The one Herod’s mercenaries call a bandit.”
    It was as if she had threatened them with a firebrand. They ran about, muttered inaudibly, scowled at her. Some clenched their fists and struck comic poses, like little men.
    â€œI’m his friend,” Miriam went on. “I need him. Only he can help me. I’ve come all the way from Nazareth and I don’t know where he’s hiding. I’m sure you can take me to him.”
    This time, their curiosity was aroused and they fell silent. She had not been mistaken. These boys would know where to find Barabbas.
    â€œYou can, I know you can. This is important. Very important.”
    Curiosity was followed by embarrassment. Their mistrust returned. One of them said in a harsh voice, “We don’t even know who this Barabbas is!”
    â€œYou must tell him that Miriam of Nazareth is here, in Sepphoris,” Miriam insisted as if she had not heard him. “The soldiers of the Sanhedrin have imprisoned my father in the fortress of Tarichea.”
    These last words broke what remained of their resistance. One of the boys, neither the strongest-looking nor the most violent of the gang, came up to her. His dirty face seemed prematurely aged in relation to his puny body.
    â€œIf we do it, what will you give us?” he asked.
    Miriam searched in the leather lining of her cloak and took out some small brass coins: barely a quarter of a talent, the price of a morning’s toil in the fields. “This is all I have.”
    The children’s eyes shone. Their leader, though, pretended not to be excited and made a scornful face that was surprisingly convincing. “That’s nothing at all. And you’re asking a lot. They say this Barabbas is a really bad man. He could kill us if he doesn’t like people running after him.”
    Miriam shook her head. “No. I know him well. He isn’t a bad man, and he isn’t dangerous to those he likes. I don’t have any more with me, but if you take me to him, he’ll reward you.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI told you: He’s my friend. He’ll be pleased to see me.”
    He gave a cunning smile. His companions now crowded around him. Miriam held out her hand, offering the coins.
    â€œTake them.”
    While his comrades looked on vigilantly, the boy took the coins, his fingers as light as a mouse’s paws.
    â€œDon’t move from here,” he ordered Miriam, his closed fist against his chest. “I’m going to see if I can take you. But until we come back, don’t move, or you’d better watch out.”
    Miriam nodded. “Make sure you tell Barabbas my name: Miriam of Nazareth! And that my father is going to die in the fortress of Tarichea.”
    Without a word, he turned his back on her and set off with his gang. Before leaving the waste ground, a few of the boys shooed away