“Your reactions tell me that there has indeed been something said of this. Tell me quickly, or you shall . . .” He remembered his guests and turned toward them. “Please allow these learned men to quarrel among themselves until they reach consensus.”
A few moments later, the youngest, though still with white hair and beard, stepped toward King Herod and bowed. “We know of some prophecies, but we think the one to which these men refer must be that of Micah. It is hundreds of years old.”
“And it tells of what?” Herod asked.
“The location of the birth of the Messiah.”
Herod’s face turned gray, and his mouth sagged open.
“The location of the birth?” he repeated incredulously. “Of the Messiah? What Messiah?”
“The Jews expect a Messiah, the King of the Jews, the King of Kings, to be born, who will return their lands to them and then rule over all the earth.”
Herod shuddered. Then he turned to the three wise men, and his eyes glittered with malice. “Are you Jews?”
“No, we are but astronomers,” Melchior said quickly. “We have been following an unusual star and thought to ask you, the most learned man in these parts, whether the ancient prophecies concerned it.”
Herod thought for several long moments, while the three men waited. He shall surely have us put to death, Kaspar thought. Melchior and Balthazar watched the king closely.
“Tell me the prophecy.” Herod turned to his priests, reaching for the honeyed dates again.
The same aged man stepped forward. “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of you shall come forth to Me the One to be Ruler in Israel, whose goings forth have been from old, from everlasting.” He recited from memory.
Silence in the room was broken only by the sounds of a few coals hissing.
Suddenly a coughing spell shook Herod’s body, and he gasped for breath. Servants ran to him, one with a flagon of vinegar, some with goblets of water or wine, while others ran toward the doors to summon help.
Melchior leaped to his feet and ran to Herod. He struck the king between his shoulder blades, expelling a date pit from Herod’s mouth.
Herod drew in a gasp of air, and then shakily gulped down a goblet of wine. “As you see, I am an ill man. I thank you for saving my life and ask only that when you find this Messiah, you return and tell me of him. Although I wish to do so, I cannot accompany you because of my precarious health.” He held out his goblet to be refilled and drank deeply again. “As king, I must know all that occurs in my country, and I would not neglect to proclaim a birth of such ancient importance. I only hope he is not a man already, with me unknowingly slighting his rulership.” He waved a hand at the slave boy and, while handing him the empty goblet, hissed, “Go with them, and return to me. And be sure you recall to me exactly where they find this pretender to the throne. If you do not remember where I may find this—Messiah—I will cut out your tongue.”
Kaspar, Melchior, and Balthazar hurriedly made their farewells and left the room, taking the ashen-faced slave with them.
The official who had met them originally was waiting for them in the guest quarters. “And what have you discussed with King Herod?” he asked.
“We have been given a task,” Kaspar answered. “We are to find the newborn Messiah and then return to bring the news to King Herod, for he has said this is our duty. And as you see, we make haste to obey the king.”
Within the hour and while some daylight lingered, they had left not only the palace but Jerusalem as well.
Balthazar shook his head at the events of the past few hours. Servants and slaves whisper rumors of Herod’s own sons, whom he put to death to prevent their ascension to his throne. That ring must have broken from the hardness of Herod’s heart. He and the others were riding swiftly across the desert as the cold wind grew more bitter and snow began to fly.
“I would far rather be out here in this storm than in that overly warm palace!” he called to the other men.
They nodded in agreement, glad to be out of Herod’s clutches. But the small slave boy they had been given shut his eyes and clung in genuine terror to the servant mounted in front of him, for he had never before seen a camel, much less ridden upon one.
What do we do now? Abishag wondered. And then she knew. We follow the star, of course. And she slept peacefully in her basket.
14
THE WIND GREW fierce and the snowstorm settled in as the small caravan struggled through the afternoon. Finally, Kaspar called a halt as they came to a series of small hills.
“I fear we are losing our way!” he shouted to make his voice heard against the howling wind.
Balthazar turned in his saddle. Cupping his hands about his mouth, he shouted in return, “Let us make camp here and wait for the storm to cease!”
Wiping ice crystals from his face, Melchior leaned over Kezia’s basket. “Are you faring well, small one? We shall have a cold camp tonight, I believe, but surely this storm cannot last much longer.”
Unable to keep even a small fire going in the icy blasts, the wise men placed the cats’ big basket in the middle of the camels’ circle as the beasts rested. They had their servants wrap up warmly, as they did themselves, and all settled to wait out the ferocious storm, backs to the small bluffs for scant protection.
The storm lingered until after noon the next day. Drifts of snow and ice crystals had sifted over the backs of the camels and glittered upon the packs. Throughout the storm, the three men had checked on their servants and animals, not forgetting to remind Herod’s slave boy to rise and stamp his feet periodically. The camels had been fed, but everyone else felt hunger along with the cold. Finally Balthazar managed to get some wisps of kindling burning and carefully added bits of charcoal to a small brazier.
Kaspar nudged him as they watched the small curl of smoke. “And what did we say not one day past about an overly heated palace?”
Balthazar chuckled. “Had we had but two of Herod’s huge braziers, we would have had a feast in the midst of the blizzard.”
Scrambling out of their basket, the cats remembered to thank the camels for sharing their warmth during the bitter cold. Then they followed Ira to the small hills.
“I don’t really know whether they understand us or not,” Abishag said thoughtfully. “They may not speak cat.”
“But it’s always best to remember your manners,” Kezia said. “Why are we traveling to the hills?”
“There may be something to eat there,” Ira answered. “I cannot wait until Kaspar and his servants get something cooked to eat; my stomach is complaining more loudly than my ears can stand now!”
They dug out a few odd-looking beetles from the ice under the branches of a small bush, but just as they were about to eat them, Asmodeus called.
“There is a mouse hole with several occupants over by that far stone. May I have the beetles?”
Ira blinked. “You are still with us?”
“Yes, and I have just found your meal for you,” the rat said. “Does that not give me the quality of being an agreeable companion?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Abishag answered. “But you may have the beetles.”
Each cat had a small mouse and then they went back to the campsite to warm themselves at the fire that had been built. The weak daylight showed the three wise men crouched about a map Balthazar had drawn in the sand, now wet from the snow melt.
“Have we actually become lost?” Melchior asked.
“No, I think we cannot be truly lost,” Kaspar said. “But we shall wait until the star rises this night to once again determine our route. The distance from Jerusalem to Bethlehem is short; a man could walk it in a day. That storm prevented us from reaching the small town as early as my heart urged. So we must spend tonight upon the desert also.”
As the camp settled for the night, the star they had been following for so very long rose, and then it seemed to remain still in front of them. Its
radiance streamed from it in pulsating waves, filling the very sky with the scintillating colors of jewels. Kaspar, Balthazar, and Melchior stood, the starlight lighting their faces and showing their tears of joy.
“The miracle unfolds!” Kaspar said, his voice shaking, and he fell to his knees upon the snow-drifted desert sand. All the servants, the cats, even the sheep and camels raised their heads, staring in awe at the heavenly beacon.
“Surely the Messiah has been born,” Melchior murmured, as he and Balthazar knelt in prayer with Kaspar.
How long they prayed, moments or hours, they never knew; they were only recalled to earthly matters by the sounds of sheep bleating in the darkness about them.
“There are several flocks of wandering sheep that seem to have no shepherd with them,” a servant reported. “Shall we try to herd them with our few?”
“That is odd,” Melchior said thoughtfully. “Perhaps they were lost during that ferocious storm. Yes, gather them as best you can, for even on such a wondrous night there may be wolves and other creatures lurking.”
“We are so near our journey’s end,” Balthazar marveled. “I cannot sleep.”
Nor could the rest of the camp for that night. Servants reclined upon packs, unwilling to take their eyes from the most stupendous sight anyone had ever before seen.
The three cats watched with the rest, Abishag wishing Ptolemy had traveled with them to see the marvel.
“I wonder if Alexos has seen this star and uses it to guide his ship,” Kezia whispered.
“Or if Gracus has seen it while out on maneuvers with his troops,” Ira added.
“I shall be very glad when we can ask our friends and loved ones those very questions,” Abishag replied and tucked her paws underneath her as she rested atop a pack.
The next morning’s breakfast was hasty, as they wished to rush to the end of their journey. Just as they began to urge the camels to rise with their packs and saddles, a group of shepherds rushed up to them.
“You have our sheep!” one shouted. “Stop, thieves!”
Kaspar immediately got out of his saddle. “No, we are not thieves. We found your flocks wandering without guidance, and kept them with our animals for the night.”
An older shepherd pulled the arm of the one who had shouted, and forced him back. “Please pardon his rude words, sir. We left our sheep to follow a star, and saw—” The man’s dirt-smudged, bearded face suddenly glowed. He paused and began again. “We have seen the Messiah!”
The three wise men gathered around the ragged, dirty shepherds. “You have seen Him! Where is He? May we go to Him?”
“He lies in a manger, in a stable not far from here. The stable is on the outskirts of Bethlehem,” the older man continued.
“In a manger? It is true He is but a babe, then?” Balthazar asked, incredulously.
“But He is born to be King of the Jews,” another shepherd offered. “For last night we did see angels, who took us to Him.”
“Angels,” Kaspar repeated. “What wonders we should have seen. If only the storm had not delayed us so!”
A small boy walked up then. “You will see the angels, too,” he told the wise men shyly. “For they fly over the stable as they sing.”
“And what songs we heard!” The voices of the shepherds tumbled over one another as they each tried to be heard. “They were glorious!” “That is what they were singing: Glory, glory, glory to God! On earth peace, and goodwill toward men.” “They filled the sky with their wings and voices and music!” “We heard voices that sounded more sweetly than any bells could ring.”
Time passed as the shepherds tried to speak of the wonders they had seen and heard. Finally the sheep were given back to the care of their shepherds, and the three wise men set off upon the last few hours of their journey once again. Abishag could hardly stand to remain in her basket; she wanted to run and leap and dance at the news the shepherds had brought.
A crowd upon the highway leading to the small town slowed the camels’ usual pace to a very slow walk. Some people walked, many rode in wagons or on small donkeys, but all hastened toward Bethlehem. The cold wind began again and brought with it bits of sleet that stung everyone’s faces.
“What is this sudden influx of people?” Balthazar asked, leaning from his saddle and asking a man walking nearby.
“We must register and pay our taxes to the emperor,” the man told him. “Are you ignorant of the laws?”
“I fear I am,” Balthazar answered. “I am a stranger in these lands, as are my companions.”
The man scowled at the small caravan and hastened on.
As they neared the outskirts, they realized there were many small buildings and stables in which the Messiah might have been born. Kaspar asked a servant to seek information from the owner of the first inn they found.
“May I speak with your master?” the servant asked a slave who had opened the door. But he was never allowed inside, for the innkeeper, Jethro Ben Solomon, shouted at his slave. “Quit talking and close the door! We have no more room, and the wind is stealing the warmth from the fire!”
“But, master, there are rich customers here—” the slave began. He had seen the rich clothing the servant wore.
“Close the door!” the innkeeper bellowed, and Kaspar’s servant drew back as the door was slammed shut. “You stupid slave,” Ben Solomon grumbled. “Do you always open the door so the little warmth we have flees into the cold? Two nights past you wanted me to take in that beggar couple with the lame donkey. And now you pretend these travelers are rich men. I should have you whipped!”
The travelers wound through the streets of Bethlehem Ephrathah, searching for the one stable in which the King of Kings had been born. The wind was driving the chill into everyone’s bones when evening fell—and the glorious star rose once again.
“There!” shouted Melchior, and he pointed as the magnificent star came to rest directly above a small stable.
As the caravan halted, the innkeeper himself came to the door. “Good evening, gentlemen,” Timothy Ben David greeted the three wise men. “I regret that I have no more rooms left for such esteemed visitors.”
“We are able to care for ourselves, if you will permit us to stay within the walls of your courtyard,” Kaspar told him. “But may we give our camels water?”
“Stay, and welcome. And of course you must give your animals water,” Ben David said. “Do you need food?”
Melchior dismounted and walked over to the innkeeper.
“We have brought our own, but we wish to pay you for allowing us to remain here within your outer walls for a time.” He held out a small bag of gold coins to Ben David.
“That is too much,” the innkeeper said. “Before I even open the bag, there are too many coins in it for but a place to camp. I cannot accept such overpayment.”
Balthazar walked up then. “Please, you would dishonor us and the One we seek should you refuse our offering.”
“Whom do you seek?”
“We seek the Messiah, who is a newborn babe, as we have been told.”
“There is but one newborn babe here, and he is with his parents in my stable, for I had not even a corner inside my walls to give them for lodging. If it is he you seek, then you have found him. How brightly shines the moon this night! I had not thought it to be full just yet.”
“We have indeed found Him.” Kaspar nodded, and he nudged his camel to lie down so he could in turn dismount.
Melchior pressed the bag of coins into Ben David’s hand, who protested again, then finally accepted the money and went back into his inn.
“He does not know of the prophecies, nor has he seen the star,” Balthazar whispered incredulously to the other wise men.
“Even good men see only what their eyes are prepared to see,” Kaspar said. “But now, let us find our gifts for the Messiah and make haste to greet Him.”
15
WITH THE RA YS of the star above the stable mak- ing the courtyard nearly as bright a
s midday, the three wise men solemnly assumed their rich robes again and removed their gifts from the camels’ packs. As they walked toward the stable, carrying gold, myrrh, and frankincense, the three cats followed. And then the small procession stumbled to a halt, as the heavens suddenly opened around the star and showed rank upon rank of angels, singing and rejoicing in magnificent voices that resounded with sweetness.
“Blessed is He!” Kaspar gasped and fell to his knees, looking up into the angels’ faces as they hovered above the lowly stable. The cats bowed their heads, then raised them to look with wonder at an angelic cat, perched upon the roof of the stable.
Melchior knelt trembling, and for a moment, dared not raise his eyes. Tears streamed down his face, running unnoticed to his chin when he finally looked up to behold the heavenly choir. And Balthazar sobbed as he repeated under his breath the prayers of his ancestors.
The angels smiled and continued their glorious songs, raising their hands in blessing as men and cats slowly walked to the stable door.
Softly the men knocked on the door frame, and then a low voice bade them enter. The cats hesitated on the threshold.
“Are we—are we allowed to see the Messiah also?” Ira, his voice trembling, asked the angelic cat.
The large black cat leaned closer to its earthly siblings. “Of course you may,” he said. “You may see and worship the Messiah as we have all come to do this glorious night. And do not be afraid of me, for I am your guardian angel. My name is Charko, and I have been with you, unseen, during this long journey.”
“That is why we have had such help from all humans!” Abishag cried. “It has been as if we spoke in a language they understood.”
“Hearts always speak the same language,” Charko told her gently.
“But how is it we could not see you before?” Kezia whispered.
“You are now in a place of miracles. Go in and see the babe, the King of Kings.”
As they entered the old building, time seemed to sigh and then stop. The three wise men knelt on the stable floor, their faces filled with love and wonder as they gazed at the babe asleep on His mother’s lap.
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