Dan, one of the zealot leaders known for his brutality towards the Romans, a minute ago went to check with dagger in hand what happened and why the watchman on the lookout let out the chirping signal to them. Is it possible they were tracked down?

“Everything is fine. Some tramp stole a wagon of goods belonging to someone else and is now looking for a place to hide it,” Dan said upon return. He looked at Simon, who sat motionless. “So, Cephas, we agreed; you will meet with Esau in Jerusalem. You will find him though Zebulon, a vegetable seller near the Jaffa Gate.”

Simon heard a clunk as a leather pouch fell by his legs.

“Here, take it. You might need money now.”

Then a dagger blade made a new sound by the entering the sand.

“The Romans call these daggers sicae and us Sicarii. They fear us. Cowards!”

“Amen,” Simon said, coming out of a reflective state.

He rose and picked up the money pouch from the ground and stuffed it into the pocket of his cloak. Then he took out the dagger from the sand. He tested if the handle covered in thick leather was comfortable. The dagger was solid. One hit above the armor to the neck or throat with such an object and the Roman is dead, on the ground in a puddle of blood.

Yes, first we must destroy the enemies and only then build the Kingdom.


It was the middle of the night when two riders stopped near a caravan inn. Simon jumped off of one horse. Adjusting the bag thrown across his shoulders and waving goodbye to the other rider, he headed for the gate. Behind his back, the whistle of a whip sounded along with the rapidly retreating clatter of horses’ hooves.

Upon entering the yard, Simon saw Jesus sitting by the fire with a few more men. Perhaps there was not enough room in the houses, so they lay down under the open sky on the wide camel throws.