Breakfast had long been over for the men, but in the hurry of departure the youthful commander did not forget a handful of raisins and dried figs, together with some parched corn, for his small prisoners. He insisted that they eat, then, taking the hand of each, they left the prophet’s cave, turned their backs upon the gorge, and walked leisurely the valley road to its head, where the animals awaited them.
“Hast thou ever been on a horse, little maid?”
“I never saw one but once. That was when the king’s messenger passed this way.”
“I shall have to set thee in front of me, on my horse. He will go faster than an ass but not so fast as a camel at top speed, and in six days, or maybe seven, we shall be in Damascus. We travel slowly to accommodate our speed to that of our beasts of burden, heavily laden with stores from thy rich little valley. The lad will be on another horse in front of one of the men, but they are rough and boisterous. Wouldst thou not rather ride with me?”
Without waiting for assent he lifted her gently to the back of the animal, gave a few directions to his men, and the column began to move. There was no saddle and she found herself slipping. She grasped desperately at the horse’s mane, but Isaac had anticipated this and held her firmly with one arm.
“It will be easier when thou art more used to riding,” he comforted, “but I will not let thee fall.”
A long, last look at the village on the hillside and then, with eyes that saw not for tears and a heart that seemed to weigh much more than her sturdy little body, Miriam left behind all that was dear to her and began the journey into a far country.
An hour later a maiden climbed slowly and painfully the steep path up from the valley. At the top she met a woman with horrible cuts across the face and body, weak from loss of blood and leaning on the shoulder of a lad whose right arm hung useless at his side.
“Art thou hurt, Judith?”