Twenty-Nine
Rahab came for me in the night. They had situated the van purposefully further away from their movements, so that I would not hear anything that might give Manasseh a hint. Our travel had lasted for days on end, and it had given me time to wage war against myself in that van.
Also, it gave me time to follow my father’s advice and read. I found the passage he had quoted and read it again and again, trying to make sense of it. To Death condemned, nailed to the Cross, by his own Nation, slain for bringing life. I studied the book the stranger had left on the Isle of Lewis in the empty grave. Prometheus Bound. It was the story Conall had told by the fire, only written in verse and with so much depth of meaning that it made me wonder if it was more than a story. Much more. As if t
