Free Mary of Nazareth by Marek Halter Page A

the black figures on the irregular crosses, although not seeing him there would have been no comfort: Might he not already have been murdered inside the fortress?
    Without wasting time, Barabbas organized his troops. They were to remain in the shelter of the forest while he, Obadiah, and a few trusted companions would reconnoiter around Tarichea.
    They came back grim-faced. Obadiah immediately went up to Miriam and jutted his chin toward the field of crosses. “Your father isn’t there. I’m sure he isn’t there.”
    Miriam closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm her beating heart. Obadiah collapsed on the ground. His hollow, dirty cheeks seemed more drawn, his features more abnormally aged, than ever. The others had come closer to hear him.
    â€œI went right up to the place, as Barabbas asked. There are lots of guards, but they’re not too suspicious of kids. The stockade around the field of crosses has nails at the top. Anyone who tries to get across will be cut to shreds. There are two places where you can see inside. And what you see is no laughing matter, I can tell you.”
    Obadiah paused for a moment, as if he could still see these horrors in front of his eyes.
    â€œThere are dozens and dozens of them. You can’t count them all. Some of them have been there so long, they’re nothing but bones in bits of cloth. Others haven’t been there long enough to die. You can hear them mumbling to themselves. Sometimes, some of them cry out in this weird kind of voice. As if they were already among the angels.”
    A long, uncontrollable shudder went through Miriam’s shoulders. “If there are so many of them,” she said in a hoarse, barely audible voice, “how do you know my father isn’t there?”
    A crafty look came back into Obadiah’s eyes, and he almost smiled. “I had a chat with an old mercenary. When old-timers like him see a kid, they turn softer than a rabbi’s wife. I told him my big brother was going to be crucified. First of all, he laughed and said it didn’t surprise him, and I’d probably be keeping him company. So I pretended to cry, and he told me not to worry, they wouldn’t do it straightaway. Then he asked me how long my ‘brother’ had been in the fortress, because they hadn’t put anyone up on the cross in the last four days.” Obadiah raised his hand, spreading the fingers. “You just have to count. Your father got to the fortress the day before yesterday….”
    As everyone watched, Miriam nodded and took Obadiah’s hand in hers. But it was shaking so much, she let go of it after a few moments.
    Addressing the company, Barabbas told them, in a haughty voice, that they should not count on getting into the field of crosses through the main gate. “It’s only wide enough for a mule, and it’s permanently guarded by a dozen mercenaries. If they give the alarm, it’s bolted with iron bars.”
    â€œAnd it’s closed all night, from what I’ve heard,” one of his companions said.
    In addition, the town was swarming with legionnaires—spies, too, probably. It was out of the question to find shelter there. If they walked through it in a group, they would attract far too much attention, even disguised as poor merchants, as they were. The guards were vigilant, and it was not worth taking the risk.
    Everyone looked worried. “Don’t make those faces,” Barabbas said, mocking them. “It’s going to be easier than we thought. The stockade stops at the lake. There’s nothing on the shore, not even guards.”
    There were loud protests. How many of them could swim? No more than three or four. Apart from that, swimming with the wretches they would have just taken down from the crosses, and being shot at by Roman archers…It was suicide. They needed boats. And boats were something they didn’t have. “And even if we had them,