The Centurion's Wife Read Online Free PDF Page B

on the shepherd’s face.
    “Five denarii.”
    A small fortune. “Horax.”
    “Sir?”
    “Pay the man.”
    Alban’s adjutant moved through the soldiers grouped closely about the shepherd. He looked at Alban as if he would argue, but Alban motioned his intention. When the coins rested in the man’s gnarled hand, Alban said, “Now we must trust one another.”
    Samuel slipped the money into a leather pouch, turned, and proceeded to walk up the seemingly featureless wall. Up close, Alban saw how narrow ledges extended from the wall, hidden by shadows and the stone’s pastel shading. Another motion, and the troops were moving upward behind their commander.
    The climb did not end upon the Golan plateau as Alban had expected. Instead they gathered upon a broad stone ledge, remaining well hidden from anyone moving through the valley. From below, their shelf melded into the surrounding ridges. This was an ideal encampment for men who wished to keep their location a secret.
    Samuel traversed the broad stone block and started along yet another ledge carved into the cliff, only this path took them gently down. As they swept around a gradual curve, Alban heard the bleat of sheep. Another turn, a second set of steps, and they arrived inside an even more secluded world.
    Samuel spoke for the first time since accepting Alban’s coins. “This has been the haven of my clan for generations beyond count.” He looked hard at the man whom he was trusting only on the word of a boy.
    Alban met his stare full on. “Your secret will go on no report or map of mine.”
    And secret it was. Alban had heard rumors of such places yet had not believed they existed until now. They stood in a small valley, really no more than a depression between two hills, perhaps fifty paces wide and twice as long. Instead of cool sand its floor was covered in grass. A herd of black-faced sheep grazed the lush undergrowth. From the middle of the south-facing wall poured a small stream, enough water to stain the rock and form a pool as broad as a man was tall. A grove of stunted date palms clustered against the cliff face.
    A young shepherd boy watched them with solemn eyes but made no attempt to approach. Alban’s men took the opportunity to break out a breakfast of flatbread and goat cheese. After a time, Horax shifted over and squatted beside Alban. “I am amazed the shepherd trusts us with his secret.”
    “My guess is that the Parthians spotted his flock up on the plateau. They demanded sheep, tracked the shepherd, and now threaten to take everything. At least he has a chance with us.” Alban spotted the man at the cliff’s edge and rose to his feet.
    “Here he comes.”
    The shepherd signaled once and disappeared. Alban and his men again began a climb up the rocky path.
    They were greeted up top by the best of an area spring. The wind was strong enough to cool the day’s mounting heat and ruffled the knee-deep grass that still smelled fresh from recent rains. A second flock of sheep grazed contentedly. In a month’s time, Alban knew, the grass would wither and the sheep would be reduced to eating thorns.
    Alban turned to his young servant. “Wait for us here.”
    Jacob had not looked so distressed since his illness two years past. Or so vulnerable. He drew himself up as tall as possible. “I can help, master.”
    “You already have. I give you my word that the loss of your family will be avenged. The Parthians will pay for the death of your parents, your sister.” Jacob did not respond. He simply looked a long moment at Alban and turned away.
    The shepherd also watched as the despondent lad walked over to join his son with the flock. Jacob picked up a stick of his own along the way and gave the grass a frustrated whack. “He has personal reasons to loathe the bandits?”
    “His family ran a caravan between Caesarea and Damascus,” Alban said. “When he was only nine he saw them all slaughtered, and he and other youths were taken as slaves. We