Christmas,  Tower

The Tower of the Flock, Part 6

Ihsan’s story

I can’t tell you what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. I, Ihsan, was one of the magi, renowned for our knowledge and wisdom. We’d been confident we would find the King of the Jews at the palace in Jerusalem. Isn’t that where the king should be?

The Prophet Daniel established our caste hundreds of years ago to fulfill a sacred purpose. We’d seen the sign. “I see him, but not now. I look at him, but not near. A star shall appear from Jacob; a scepter shall rise from Israel.” When the star appeared, we gathered our ancestor Daniel’s own treasure and set out for Jerusalem.

A star shall appear from Jacob; a scepter shall rise from Israel. Numbers 24:17

Traveling mostly at night because we followed the star, we arrived at the caravanserai outside Jerusalem around dawn one morning in late spring. When the sun rose and the star faded, we arranged for lodgings with the innkeeper. Guileless Sarush, full of eagerness and yet lacking in discretion, blurted out that we had seen a sign and had come to worship the King of the Jews. Might the innkeeper tell us where to find him? The look on the stable boy’s face told me we’d disturbed a viper’s nest. I gave Sarush a look that made him flinch  when the innkeeper scuttled away after promising to look into the matter.

My companions decided to rest for a few hours, wanting to be at their best when we presented ourselves to the Messiah. Worry stole my sleep, however. At daybreak, the star had still been some distance away, south of Jerusalem. But that didn’t make sense.  It must have been a trick of the light. Our destination was the king’s palace, wasn’t it?

When the yard was deserted, I made my way to the camel pen and beckoned the stable boy I’d seen gnawing his lower lip. Taking a silver coin from my bag and pressing it into his palm, I cocked my head, indicating a bench on the far side of a noisy fountain. When we were seated, I examined him for a long moment. He looked nervous, but he didn’t look like he was trying to hide anything. Finally, I asked, “Why did our arrival fill you with fear?”

He said nothing. His eyes darted to mine and then down at the ground.

If I wanted information, I had to give him a reason to trust me. “Do you know of the Prophet Daniel?”

He looked up and gave a slight nod. He kept his mouth tightly shut.

“My companions and I follow his teaching.  When Daniel received understanding about what was to come in the last days, he established our caste. His knowledge has been passed down from father to son for over five hundred years. We saw the star and came to worship the King of the Jews, but we’re not exactly sure where He is. I think you can help me piece together this mystery.” I placed another coin in his palm.

Looking at the coins in his hand, he moistened his lips. “We, too, have been expecting the Messiah, the one who would restore the kingdom. The young one with the long nose and prominent teeth asked where to find the one born King of the Jews. We have a king, but he was not born King of the Jews. Although Herod sits on the throne, he is not one of us. He is not even Jewish, but Idumean. And he is dangerous.”

Irritation and disgust rose in my throat. We magi spent far too much time studying history and astronomy. We really needed to stay up to date with world events. What were we thinking, traipsing into Jerusalem and announcing we were here to worship the one born King of the Jews? In that moment, the only thing I knew for sure was that this Herod was not the king we sought.

The boy jumped to his feet. “I am sorry I was unable to assist you in your quest, my lord. Herod is our king.” He fairly ran toward the stable.

The innkeeper rounded the fountain and bowed from the waist. “The king has heard of your visit. He requests the honor of your presence. He has sent an escort for you.”

Escort? Six stern Roman soldiers stood behind him. Herod felt threatened.

Rousing my companions from their slumbers, I whispered, “Danger. Keep your mouths shut and let me do the talking.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood up as soon as the heavy bronze gate of the palace courtyard clanged shut behind us. We’d sprung a trap.

In the throne room, King Herod received us with smooth words and broad smiles. But his eyes glittered with cunning, and (surely it was my imagination) his tongue seemed to flick and dart like that of a serpent. He slithered forward to greet us. I could not shake the feeling that his robe concealed scales.

“I hear you have come in search of the King of the Jews.  You saw a sign. I am most eager to know what it was and when it appeared.”

I know I heard him hiss.

“We came from the East, your majesty, following a star. It led us here to Jerusalem.” True, as far as it went. I wasn’t going to tell him Jerusalem wasn’t the final destination.

Herod wore a mask of cordiality, but I could see he was a calculating fiend. “Excellent. I have inquired as to where the Child might be.” He gestured to his scribe who held a scroll. I did not divine his occupation by sorcery; the ink on his fingers gave him away.  “The chief priest and the scribes inform me that the Ruler who will shepherd Israel will be born in Bethlehem. Go, search diligently for the Child, and when you find Him, return to me. I, too, would like to worship Him.”

Before I answered, I prayed to the God Most High that Herod would allow us to leave. Yes, I prayed to Elohim. We trusted in the God our ancestor Daniel worshiped, although hundreds of years of separation from our kinsmen in Israel left us isolated in our faith.

I bowed low. “Yes, your majesty. We will search for Him and return to you.”

The moment we returned to the inn, I offered the stable boy enough gold to buy his own stable if he could help us get out of town immediately.  To my delight, he agreed and told us how to get to Bethlehem. South of Jerusalem. Of course. That’s where the star was leading us. Why hadn’t we just kept going?

Urging our mounts to make haste, we saw Bethlehem in the distance by late afternoon. Sneaking into town was futile. Town? Did this cluster of dwellings even constitute a town? A caravan of twenty odd camels, donkeys, and horses bearing strangely garbed men was going to attract attention.

As we approached, we saw shepherds tending their flocks by a watchtower. Standing on the top of the tower, a wiry boy pointed at us and shouted. He disappeared from view and then reappeared, running up the hill toward town.  Hopefully he wasn’t sounding an alarm.

My fears proved unfounded. As we walked through town, several people stood outside their homes and stared. No one approached us, though. And I wasn’t ready to approach them, either. We’d been foolish to seek out Herod, and I wasn’t going to repeat the mistake. We would set up camp by a stream outside town and wait for the star to appear.

My gaze kept drifting to one house at the edge of town. House might be too generous a word. Shack? Hovel? It appeared to be a workshop with living quarters in the back. The shepherd boy I’d seen earlier was standing in front of it talking to a man who was chiseling a large stone. Was this the boy’s home? Was the man his father? They certainly weren’t royalty, but maybe they knew where the king lived.

I scratched my head. Why would a king choose to live here? Bethlehem might be the hometown of King David, but there was nothing royal about it.

Why would a king choose to live here?

Long before sunset, the star appeared, as if it was too excited to stay hidden any longer. I should have known. It stood directly over the stone mason’s workshop.

I fell to my knees in worship. If I knew one thing only about Elohim, it was that He did things in ways I would never expect.

To be continued with Feroze’s story . . .