His uncle returned to overseeing the assembly and Nicholas was all too happy to step aside and assist. When his uncle pressed him to continue in leadership, Nicholas let slip, “The authorities may arrest overseers and elders again.”
His uncle frowned. “If you do not stand in faith, you will not stand at all,” he said, quoting the prophet Isaiah. He added, “If you believe, you must be prepared to sacrifice for it.”
“I am,” protested Nicholas. He could not tell his uncle of the gifts he was giving. “Just... Not for a title.”
“The title of Christianus?”
“That one, yes. If the day should come to sacrifice my life for his name’s sake, I promise, I will not shrink from it. But I see no need to speed its coming.”
His uncle let out a sigh of disappointment and said no more.
At night, Nicholas found it more difficult to give his gifts. Now soldiers roamed the streets, gazing up at the rooftops for him. Word had gotten out that the enemy of the gods gave his gifts from above like some winged harpy. One night when the moon was full, Nicholas had just dropped a bag of gold when a soldier spotted his hooded form. The soldier yelled, “Halt!”
Nicholas dashed away and leaped for another roof. The soldier threw his spear and Nicholas could hear it brush through his flapping cloak. He raced on parallel the street. Several soldiers rushed in below to join their comrade. Two arrows swished past him. He turned up the roof, across the house. The soldiers called out, “He’s heading for the other side!”
Nicholas sped from house to house across the block and dashed headlong to leap across the street to the next roof. As he did, a soldier climbing up from below reached up and caught his ankle. Nicholas kicked the hand away, but too late. He was airborne with not enough momentum to make it on his feet to the other roof. He could feel his stomach fall out from under him, but he forced the panic aside. He tucked his head and rolled. The slope of the next roof slammed into his body and he tumbled to a stop. His back throbbed with pain, but he dragged himself to his feet and carried on.
Another leap and a dash across the rooftops brought him some distance away from the soldiers and he lowered himself to the street. In a flash, he rolled up his cloak and fled into the shadows. He grinned with relief: He could go on giving gifts, but he would have to be more cautious.
His uncle frowned. “If you do not stand in faith, you will not stand at all,” he said, quoting the prophet Isaiah. He added, “If you believe, you must be prepared to sacrifice for it.”
“I am,” protested Nicholas. He could not tell his uncle of the gifts he was giving. “Just... Not for a title.”
“The title of Christianus?”
“That one, yes. If the day should come to sacrifice my life for his name’s sake, I promise, I will not shrink from it. But I see no need to speed its coming.”
His uncle let out a sigh of disappointment and said no more.
At night, Nicholas found it more difficult to give his gifts. Now soldiers roamed the streets, gazing up at the rooftops for him. Word had gotten out that the enemy of the gods gave his gifts from above like some winged harpy. One night when the moon was full, Nicholas had just dropped a bag of gold when a soldier spotted his hooded form. The soldier yelled, “Halt!”
Nicholas dashed away and leaped for another roof. The soldier threw his spear and Nicholas could hear it brush through his flapping cloak. He raced on parallel the street. Several soldiers rushed in below to join their comrade. Two arrows swished past him. He turned up the roof, across the house. The soldiers called out, “He’s heading for the other side!”
Nicholas sped from house to house across the block and dashed headlong to leap across the street to the next roof. As he did, a soldier climbing up from below reached up and caught his ankle. Nicholas kicked the hand away, but too late. He was airborne with not enough momentum to make it on his feet to the other roof. He could feel his stomach fall out from under him, but he forced the panic aside. He tucked his head and rolled. The slope of the next roof slammed into his body and he tumbled to a stop. His back throbbed with pain, but he dragged himself to his feet and carried on.
Another leap and a dash across the rooftops brought him some distance away from the soldiers and he lowered himself to the street. In a flash, he rolled up his cloak and fled into the shadows. He grinned with relief: He could go on giving gifts, but he would have to be more cautious.
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