“But, I, uh, did bring this!” Shimshon quickly took out a kerchief wrapped around several gleaming jewels. “These are for you, as a token of my gratitude for telling me the truth about my father, and helping me reclaim our family fortune.”

“Tell me, Shimshon, how hard did you look for that bag I requested that you take?”

“Long enough to know it isn’t there.”

“Shimshon, that’s very strange. That’s very strange because I have very accurate information about everything that goes on in this town. I find it very hard to believe that the bag was not exactly where I said it would be.”

“Well, I was there, so I know. I’m sorry… I know this bag is very important to you.”

“Oh, it still is, Shimshon. And wherever it is, I will find it. This I assure you.”

“I— I hope you do.”

“I will.” Sylvester smiled coldly. “Well, this concludes our business then. Good day, Shimshon, and good luck.”

The door shut in Shimshon’s face. But he knew he had not seen the last of Sylvester.

That night Shimshon laid out the scrolls in his room, staring at the beautiful Lashon Kodesh script. His grandfather’s signature was at the bottom of each page, along with that of his friend’s, Rav Shabsi.

Wow. Someone with great knowledge and piety could use these scrolls to create an actual golem! Shimshon grinned just thinking about it.

Then, he heard hoofbeats outside. He looked outside and saw Claude on horseback, holding a torch in one hand, and a sword in the other. He had at least 15 masked men riding with him.

Shimshon felt terror flood his veins. He rolled up the scrolls, stuffed them into the sack, and slung it around his neck. He leaped through the window, rolling across the ground just seconds before a horse rode past.

“What business do you have here?” Shimshon stood up and yelled, catching Claude’s attention.

“You arrogant thief!” Claude screeched. “You know what we want!”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about!”

“We know you’re the thief!”

Well, that was that. Somehow the game was up, and they knew he was the culprit. Now he had to protect his mother, who was inside the house.

“Oh, this?” Shimshon withdrew the jewels from his pocket and tossed them at the hooves of Claude’s horse. “Take it back then and leave my family alone. You know I only took them because they belong to my family! You killed my father, and I wanted some revenge. Would you not have done the same thing? I only claimed what was mine anyhow. But take it back….”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about!” Claude waved his torch through the air, sending spark scattering into the darkness. “But give me back the scrolls as well, and I’ll let you live.”

“That I cannot do. These scrolls have great power and sanctity. Were they to fall into the wrong hands, someone can create a creature that can do incredible evil. These scrolls are my great-grandfather’s, and they belong to me alone.”

“Then we’ll take them from you! Men, grab him!”

Shimshon turned and fled into the night as the masked horsemen pursued him. The bag of scrolls bounced around his neck as he slid down the mountainside, ignoring the pain of sharp rocks digging into his skin.

Finally, he made it to the bottom and looked up. All he could see were torches that looked as though they were floating in midair, descending down the mountainside.

He raced to Sylvester’s tower and pounded on the door. Two massive dogs bounded out of the shadows, barking furiously. Shimshon pressed himself against the door as the dogs stood there, keeping him from escaping.

A window above opened, and Sylvester appeared.

“Yes?”

“Sylvester! Help me! Claude knows! He knows I’m the thief!”

“Oh, no.” But Sylvester’s tone was emotionless.

“Please, Sylvester, they’re coming after me! I need somewhere to hide!”

“But what will they do to me, Shimshon?”

“You have ways of defending yourself, Sylvester! I don’t!”

The horsemen were approaching now, and even the ferocious dogs fled from the intimidating sight.

“Sylvester!” Shimshon held up the bag around his neck. “I have the scrolls you wanted! Let me—”

Almost instantly, the door swung open and one of Sylvester’s bodyguards pulled Shimshon inside. The door slammed shut just as arrows thudded against the door.

“Up.” The guard grunted, pointing at a twisting flight of stone stairs leading to the top of the tower. Shimshon raced up the stairs and found Sylvester calmly standing by the window.

“You’ve made them very, very upset.”

“I don’t know how they found out!”

“Shimshon, hand me the scrolls.”

“And when I told Claude why I had taken the jewels and how he killed my father, he genuinely seemed confused….”

“Shimshon. The scrolls. Now.”

Shimshon stepped back as Sylvester moved closer.

“No….”

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 960)