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for the ladder and disappeared into the upper story of the tower. Avel’s feet did not touch the rungs. He

controlled his descent solely by oak banisters polished smooth by generations of shepherds. The lord of Migdal Eder, Chief Shepherd Zadok, was deep in conference with several of his deputies. “Master Zadok,” Avel interrupted, panting, “Marcus Longinus is coming . . . and in a terrible hurry!” Regarding the apprentice herdsman from ¬under bushy brows topping one piercing eye and one menacing black patch, Zadok remarked, “Did y’ think I ¬didn’t hear y’ bellow, lad? Likely folks in Beth-lehem took note as well.” “Sorry,” Avel said, ¬only momentarily subdued before resuming the urgency of his report. “But he’s in armor! Riding like the wind too! No mistaking that black horse. What should we do?” Low growls from the others present greeted these words. Avel heard the men suggest staves, rocks for their slings. The boy’s excitement grew. Battle could be coming to Migdal Eder! “Aye,” the shepherd named Lev agreed. “Shall I sound the alarm? Gather the men in from the far pastures?” Zadok snorted. “Roman officer Marcus may be, but the man’s a friend. Proved it more’n once. We’ll wait for his news before yellin’, ‘All I feared has come upon me,’ eh?” the Chief Shepherd scolded. “Go back up and keep watch, boy.” Avel stood his ground. “Let me send Ha-or Tov. His eyes are better than mine . . . and I want to hear what the centurion says.” Regarding his protégé shrewdly, Zadok acquiesced. They had not long to wait for the news. Moments later the centurion’s mount thundered into the yard, setting Red Dog barking violently. Zadok stood in the doorway to greet him. Files of grim-faced shepherds flanked their chief on either side. Without dismounting Marcus announced, “Zadok, there’s a company of Temple Guards on the way, forty of them. For supporting Yeshua of Nazareth you’re to be turned out.” Avel noted the muttered concerns of the others. Forty was a sizable number when swords could ¬only be opposed by wooden shepherd’s crooks. The boy’s anxiety mounted when he saw the tension in their faces. It was unsettling to witness consternation on the visages of sturdy, hardened men who slept rough most nights and encountered wild beasts alone. On Zadok’s face he saw resignation but no fear. “It’s the right of the high priest to put me out,” Zadok said simply. “But I gather that’s not all yer news. Come in. Lev, water the centurion’s horse.” Avel saw tension ease in the broad shoulders and grim face of the centurion. The boy guessed the Roman expected bloodshed. Had he come to again fight alongside the Chief Shepherd of Israel? While the other shepherds remained in a defensive ring outside Migdal Eder, Zadok and Marcus held a quiet discussion inside. Avel looked on from the corner by the fireplace, his presence uninvited but accepted. Marcus explained: “I have a . . . source in Antipas’ household. You already know your high priest has made it a crime to speak of Yeshua as the ¬Jewish

Messiah. Antipas and Caiaphas plot to kill Yeshua and others who oppose their plan.” Zadok grasped the twin corded braids of his coarse white beard and nodded. “I expected it. I saw it in that jackal Eglon’s face at the sheep pens. Didn’t have a chance to thank y’.” Slowly, measuring his words, Marcus continued, “Pilate restored my rank. But he refused to intervene for you. Said he had no authority to interfere in Judean religious squabbles.” Avel was surprised to see Zadok’s chest swell up. “And right he is too! Do y’ think I’d take something offered by the hand of Rome? Y’ wrong me if y’ think that, Marcus Longinus. More than thirty years have I been shepherd here with the Temple flocks—five and twenty of them as Chief. I never sought Rome’s endorsement, and I would not take it now!” “Then where’ll you go?” This was