B el-Tar slept fitfully that night. The visit with the child and his parents had left a penetrating impression in his eastern mind. To some, it might have seemed anticlimactic to see a mere infant after so long a journey of anticipation. But for Bel-Tar, it was a most satisfying end to their trip. The baby had actually smiled at him and held his finger. And in those child-eyes, he had seen something that he had never seen in the eyes of such a small person. What it was exactly, he could not say; perhaps unusual intelligence, perhaps something deeper and more personal; perhaps, Was it recognition? Whatever it was, it made him deliriously happy. It filled him with a triumph he could not form words to describe. He could see that the others were similarly affected.

Just when it seemed that slumber would claim him, a vision flooded his mind that compelled every atom of thought. An enraged Herod the Great in the presence of the child. The king meant to harm the child, not pay him homage. Herod? Pay homage to a child? Not likely. Instantly he knew, they must not report back to this monster, this sadist. Every fiber in his body tingled with urgency. Sleep was now impossible. He thought of the king’s guard coming to demand their presence. He could envision their being escorted back to the palace. His senses gathering in alarm he went to each of his companions. “Arise,” he demanded softly, shaking each one, “Awake, We must be off — now!”

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