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You have to be awful careful about what you say, Stephanos. The sentry walks by every half hour or so, and if he even suspects that we might be out after dark because we are …” Fifteen year old Tayletha glanced furtively about and lowered her voice, “or because our parents are -you –know-what- we will be in deep trouble.”
Tayletha's five-year-old brother nodded soberly. He shivered a little at the thought of being thrown to the lions. Too many of his grownup friends had suffered that fate simply for loving Jesus. He clutched the loaf of bread closer to his thin chest.
Never for a moment had they intended to be hiding on a rooftop in the dreadful city of Rome but here they were. Tayletha crouched lower and inched her way over to the balustrade bordering the flat roof. Every so often, she flattened herself against the rough surface and listened. Tayletha bit her lip. We can be spotted easily. There are so few people around in this area. She saw only a few ragged beggars scavenging and the sentries on duty.Wheeled conveyances were allowed on the streets only at night, and at that moment they were rumbling along in the busier sections. Her hand gleamed whitely as it groped for the top of the wall, and she slowly eased herself upwards to peer over the edge.
Far in the distance, the clomp-clomp-clomp of hobnailed Roman sandals on cobblestone streets sounded loud in the stillness. Soon the eerie flickering of the patrolman’ smoldering torch briefly revealed some ragged beggar boys darting back into the shadows. Tayletha sensed that the boys knew they were in danger of being clouted with a brawny fist if they were caught slinking around. Scavenging in the garbage strewn in the corners could most definitely wait for a safer time.
Tayletha slunk down until she was barely eye-level with the top row of bricks, and saw the boys conceal themselves in the deeper shadows. She wondered briefly how a child could survive as a beggar, but her own concerns crowded out the thought.
Just then, the sentries’ flame flashed high against the black night sky and she shrank back. Tayletha hardly dared to breathe as she listened to the receding footfalls until they were indecipherable then leaned over to get the attention of the beggars.
“Boys!” she beckoned. She watched them stiffen, and look around before spotting her. The whites of their eyes looked strange in the shadowy darkness.
“Come here!” she called in a piercing whisper. They shrank back and appeared to be talking to each other.
“Come here!” she pleaded.
“What do you want?” the taller boy, who looked to be about eleven years old, demanded.
“Show us a secret way through the city.”
“Why?” He never relaxed his stance for an instant. He was ever on the alert, his eyes darting this way and that and in every direction.
Tayletha took the loaf of bread from Stephanos and showed it to them. “We'll pay you!”
The younger beggar leaped to his feet, lithe as a cat and gazed up at them. Tayletha wondered if his mouth was drooling at the sight of so much food. She watched intently as he turned his head to say something into his brother’s ear.
Out of the corner of Tayletha’s eye she saw an orange glow in the distance. Instinct told her the torchbearer had turned and was coming back! The older boy caught the movement of her head, and in an instant, both vanished. Tayletha and her small brother flattened themselves against the roof of the two-story building.
“I'm cold,” Stephanos’ words were barely more audible than a sigh, but then his teeth started chattering. Tayletha pulled him close against her body for warmth and tucked her knitted palla around them both. They listened, breathing as shallowly as possible as the heavy footfalls below them sounded louder and louder.
“Where are those thieving rascals?” the guard growled. “They’re usually right around this here court-yard making a nuisance of themselves.” Tayletha felt herself tighten up. The harsh sound of the flat side of his sword striking against stone made her cringe. Finally, the light disappeared and the sound of marching feet pounding against flat rocks diminished.
Tayletha slid into a sitting position, and then froze. What is that scratching sound? Was it a nasty old rat? She hoped it was the boys.
Tayletha looked carefully around. In the pallid moonlight the head and shoulders of two shaggy-haired boys were silhouetted with nothing below them. She gasped before realizing they were peering through some sort of trap door to the roof.
“Come with me,” the older boy beckoned. “ We'll git you outta this court-yard, an' where ya wanna be.”
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