the desert. Never so many that they can do harm.”
Martha frowned. “Cook is from Ethiopia. She saw such plagues with her own eyes. She told me of the famine and misery that followed.”
I hurried toward the stable where the rider waited. Remembering stories of biblical plagues, I reasoned that the sins of Herod and his wife could well bring a heavenly judgment on the land.
Samson and Patrick and two dozen workers gathered around me as I read Mary’s warning aloud.
Greetings, my brother and sister,
I send this letter in hopes you may devise a plan to save your vines. I know harvest is near, yet still the grapes cannot be ripe enough to pick. Judgment comes from the north. Swarms of locusts, in clouds so dense that they darken the sun, are flying south. Do what you can to save your vines. In hopes you are well, your sister, Mary.
The rider sat on a heap of hay and filled his cheeks with bread. “They’re coming, for certain. They’ll eat every green leaf and shoot by the time they’re done. A swarm in Syria, miles wide.”
I asked the exhausted servant, “And Galilee?”
“Thousands north of the sea. Landed upon the grazing land, and when they flew away there was not one blade of grass left. Everything. Down to the bare dirt. Vineyards destroyed. Your sister says if you act now, you are a clever fellow and may have time to prepare.”
I looked to Samson for wisdom. The old man’s face was grim. He inclined his head toward Patrick.
“I set Patrick onto this last week when the very first rumor came from Tyre. Aye. The lad’s got something to say, if you don’t mind, sir.”
Patrick cleared his throat. “I saw such a plague come when I served with the Roman army in Egypt. They stripped every tree and flower. Destroyed every crop before they left. Crawled into the beds of the mighty and tormented the poor. Drove the livestock mad. Fell into the water and the children’s milk. Ate the fodder for the cattle. Stripped the vineyards clean. Leaving nothing behind but hunger, sir.”
“What is to be done?” I spread my hands wide.
Samson spoke up. “Me and the lad have been thinking on this, sir. In case the rumor’s true. There may be a way to save some vineyards and possibly a portion of the fig crop.”
Patrick agreed. “The vines, yes. Partly. The orchards will be more difficult.”
“If you can help us do this, Patrick, you will be well rewarded.”
He tucked his chin. “I will do this for the good of fighting such a mindless, faceless enemy, sir. But since you offer, I will ask one reward, sir.”
“Name it.”
“My freedom.”
“Done!”
He continued. “And not just myself, sir, but the girl Adrianna, Samson’s adopted daughter. She is sixteen years old thereabouts. As near as she can figure. Old enough to marry. I’d like her as a wife. And her freedom too.”
Samson nodded his approval.
It was an offer I accepted gladly. I clapped hands with Patrick in a bargain. “Before the Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, you shall be a free man.”
“For such a prize I’ll do all I am able.”
Samson seemed pleased. “Patrick has fought these flying devils before. God has sent him to you to save what can be saved.”
The Galilean messenger warned, “Unless there is a miracle, you have perhaps three days before the swarm overshadows Judea.”
With a walking stick, Patrick etched our battle plan in the dirt. “We must cut firebreaks between the vines. We must sacrifice some. What you choose, we will attempt to save.”
“How do we decide between them?” I looked to Samson.
The old man replied, “The hoppers will ride on the wind. The prevailing wind. From the north.”
I considered the logic of our situation. “The decision is simple, then. The vineyard on the northwest hill faces the wind. It must be sacrificed. Those vines produce more grapes, as you have said, but weaker … less quality.”
Samson nodded. “A wise choice. We concentrate on saving the best first. Then, if there is time, perhaps the others.”
I caught the vision. “Then the Faithful vines on the south hill.”
Patrick agreed. “Yes. We erect tall poles at both ends of the vine rows. At the top of the hill, dividing north from south. Suspend palm fronds, coated with pitch, upon the posts.”
Samson scratched the ears of his goats. “You’ll need to hire more laborers.”
Martha, who had been pale and silent through it all, at last said, “Three days. Is that enough time?”
Patrick