tree that had been pruned so thin that twigs spread like fingers from the thicker arms. Dark rows of earth, freckled with ash, were turned and ready for seeding. But it was cold on the rooftops. Flea hugged himself and wondered where spring was.
âDid you get rid of that thing you stole?â Jude asked.
âChucked it down a chimney,â Flea lied.
âGood. Hereâs the money I owe you.â
Flea didnât look at it. âDonât you think I deserve a bonus?â
Now that his time with Jude was coming to an end, he was ambushed by sadness. It had been good to feel useful. It had been better to feel needed. What did the rest of the day hold in store for him? Nothing. He had been thrown out of the Temple Boys. He was alone again.
Jude snorted. âFor doing what we agreed? In your dreams.â
âFor keeping my mouth shut. Thatâs what you really want, isnât it?â
âAbout what, in heavenâs name?â
âAbout the man who was following you. About the way you went to every donkey man and camel handler in the city until you found the one that blocked the bridge yesterday. About paying him to tell you something.â
âYouâ¦â Jude grabbed Flea by the wrist and pushed him back against the tree, thrusting his face in close. Flea could see every hair of his beard, the spit threaded between his lips, the red starburst of the scar on his cheek. âDo you honestly think that if I strangled you here and now anyone would care? Perhaps thatâs why I hired you, because I could use you and then throw you away when I was done.â
Fear stuck Flea with a splinter of cold. âIâm sorry,â he said. âI take it back. Iâll leave you alone.â
Jude gave a cold laugh and dropped him. âOn the other hand, I chose you because I thought you were clever ⦠and I was right.â Flea looked away over the flat rooftops, eyes narrowed and a muscle pulsing at the back of his jaw. He massaged his wrist and waited for as long as he could manage. âSo?â he asked.
âAll right. I wonât pay you a bonus but I will pay you for more work. Lucky that youâre working for meâYesh would just say there are riches waiting for you in heaven. Ground rules first. One: Fleas should learn not to bite the hand that feeds them. Two: Fleas shouldnât bite off more than they can chew. Three: Clever fleas jump away from trouble, not into it. Got that?â
Flea protested. âI canât help seeing what I saw. Itâs far better you explain so I donât get it all wrong. Please.â
âPlease. He actually said âplease.â Thatâs more like it.â Jude chewed his inside cheek. âWell, if I tell you just enough to keep you out of danger, it might help. I think the man following us was Roman. Heâs not ⦠heâs not a man you want to be interested in you.â
âWho is he then?â
âIf heâs the man I think, his name crawled away and died of shame a long time ago. Heâs got the governorâs ear, the Roman prefect himselfâand heâs ambitious. It doesnât help that the governorâs more or less given up governing, so heâll listen to anyone with a strong opinion. And this man has a simple idea: If people donât do what you want, hurt them until they do.â
âSo heâs powerful?â
âHeâs effective. Like a knife. Some people say he was once one of us. Some people say he was Idumaean, like Herod the Great. Or a Samaritan. Or a ⦠Well, it doesnât matter because heâs a Roman now, and that, my friend, is the power of Rome. Anyone who thinks like a Roman, is a Roman. But I donât understand why he was following me. And thatâs a worry.â
âMaybe he made a mistake,â said Flea.
âHe doesnât make mistakes.â
âSo maybe it was something to do with the donkey and
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