be so troubled?”
Shaz did not return to our room until late that night. He had enjoyed Herod’s full hospitality of food, wine, and women, having discovered that not all Hebrew women were modest. Shaz had never been treated so well by our own king, and we could see immediately that he would not share the apprehension we felt.
“Herod wants a secret audience with us in one hour’s time,” he announced. Exchanging eloquent glances, we prepared for a second meeting with Herod. Shaz fell into a satisfied sleep and had to be awakened when Herod’s advisers knocked on the door. This time we were conducted not to the throne room but to one of Herod’s private rooms. He was alone and had various scrolls and maps spread on a table in front of him. His face was crimson and drenched with sweat, though his expression had not changed from our first encounter.
Herod carefully questioned us about when the star had appeared to us and when it had disappeared. He read to us the Jewish prophecy that indicated that the king of the Jews, the Messiah, was to be born in King David’s city—in Bethlehem—and asked us to search diligently for the child, reporting back to him so that he could also go and worship.
Nothing could have induced me to speak or draw attention to myself. I could not be out of his lair soon enough. I was relieved when the interview was not prolonged. As we bowed and prepared to leave, Herod suddenly added, “I have arranged for your leader to remain with us a while longer. It turns out he is not only a brilliant astronomer but a cousin of my dear Mariamne. She will be so pleased to see him.”
Shaz smiled broadly. I was alarmed. Surely Shaz was not taken in by this man? And yet Shaz had heard exactly what his flattery-loving ears craved. What did Herod want with him? Wisps of fear curled inside my stomach. No conversation was sanctioned, and so with hidden heavy hearts, promises to return, and swift feet, we made our exit, gathering our servants and horses from the famous stables. We were swiftly escorted out of Jerusalem as day was nearly breaking.
“Is he dead then?” one of the servants whispered to me as we rode.
I shrugged. “He’s staying behind.”
The servant whistled and dropped back to share the news.
As the city gates closed behind us, we gathered around Caspar, who had become our leader without discussion. Caspar pointed at the eastern sky. There, far above the pinkish tints of sunrise, shone the moving star. Joy dawned on our faces, and the conversation of concern and strategy we were about to have melted away. Elated, we set off in the direction the star led, which was indeed Bethlehem.
~ 16 ~
W onders
The journey was short, but now, wary of Herod, we were cautious of revealing our plans to anyone. We arrived in Bethlehem in the heat of the day and were greeted with the same hospitality we had been welcomed with in every Hebrew town. All Caspar would say to inquiries was that we were on a diplomatic mission on behalf of our king and that we were passing through their village. None of the rumors and fears in Jerusalem had yet reached this little town, and so his simple explanation was accepted. We had decided not to explain the details of our quest but to find any possible king ourselves; in a small town, we reasoned, it would not be easy to hide a king. And yet life seemed perfectly normal. If the elders were bursting with civic pride at housing royalty, they certainly hid it well. Children were everywhere, greatly admiring and petting our horses, and I found my eyes drawn to them, wondering if one might be the king. We were invited to sleep in the home of one of the village elders, and, our search for the king incomplete, we happily accepted the offer.
In the middle of the night, I was startled awake. My heart pounded, and I breathed heavily. The house was still. I sat up, taking care not to wake Caspar, who slept beside me. When time had passed and still the household was quiet, I
Shaz did not return to our room until late that night. He had enjoyed Herod’s full hospitality of food, wine, and women, having discovered that not all Hebrew women were modest. Shaz had never been treated so well by our own king, and we could see immediately that he would not share the apprehension we felt.
“Herod wants a secret audience with us in one hour’s time,” he announced. Exchanging eloquent glances, we prepared for a second meeting with Herod. Shaz fell into a satisfied sleep and had to be awakened when Herod’s advisers knocked on the door. This time we were conducted not to the throne room but to one of Herod’s private rooms. He was alone and had various scrolls and maps spread on a table in front of him. His face was crimson and drenched with sweat, though his expression had not changed from our first encounter.
Herod carefully questioned us about when the star had appeared to us and when it had disappeared. He read to us the Jewish prophecy that indicated that the king of the Jews, the Messiah, was to be born in King David’s city—in Bethlehem—and asked us to search diligently for the child, reporting back to him so that he could also go and worship.
Nothing could have induced me to speak or draw attention to myself. I could not be out of his lair soon enough. I was relieved when the interview was not prolonged. As we bowed and prepared to leave, Herod suddenly added, “I have arranged for your leader to remain with us a while longer. It turns out he is not only a brilliant astronomer but a cousin of my dear Mariamne. She will be so pleased to see him.”
Shaz smiled broadly. I was alarmed. Surely Shaz was not taken in by this man? And yet Shaz had heard exactly what his flattery-loving ears craved. What did Herod want with him? Wisps of fear curled inside my stomach. No conversation was sanctioned, and so with hidden heavy hearts, promises to return, and swift feet, we made our exit, gathering our servants and horses from the famous stables. We were swiftly escorted out of Jerusalem as day was nearly breaking.
“Is he dead then?” one of the servants whispered to me as we rode.
I shrugged. “He’s staying behind.”
The servant whistled and dropped back to share the news.
As the city gates closed behind us, we gathered around Caspar, who had become our leader without discussion. Caspar pointed at the eastern sky. There, far above the pinkish tints of sunrise, shone the moving star. Joy dawned on our faces, and the conversation of concern and strategy we were about to have melted away. Elated, we set off in the direction the star led, which was indeed Bethlehem.
~ 16 ~
W onders
The journey was short, but now, wary of Herod, we were cautious of revealing our plans to anyone. We arrived in Bethlehem in the heat of the day and were greeted with the same hospitality we had been welcomed with in every Hebrew town. All Caspar would say to inquiries was that we were on a diplomatic mission on behalf of our king and that we were passing through their village. None of the rumors and fears in Jerusalem had yet reached this little town, and so his simple explanation was accepted. We had decided not to explain the details of our quest but to find any possible king ourselves; in a small town, we reasoned, it would not be easy to hide a king. And yet life seemed perfectly normal. If the elders were bursting with civic pride at housing royalty, they certainly hid it well. Children were everywhere, greatly admiring and petting our horses, and I found my eyes drawn to them, wondering if one might be the king. We were invited to sleep in the home of one of the village elders, and, our search for the king incomplete, we happily accepted the offer.
In the middle of the night, I was startled awake. My heart pounded, and I breathed heavily. The house was still. I sat up, taking care not to wake Caspar, who slept beside me. When time had passed and still the household was quiet, I
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