Solomon smiled. He remembered his mother telling him the story of how Anna of Asher had predicted the return of a force to the earth. A force that would reawaken humankind and restore the balance of The Way. Solomon’s eyes fell again on the young shepherd. A look of temptation rose and then dropped suddenly from his face, as if he had decided midstream to withhold a great treasure. “Anna is a good name,” was all he said, nodding as if someone had spoken wisely.

Later that night, after the others had fallen asleep, Solomon walked through the camp to where Jesus slept. Keeping still, he let his eyes wander over the boy’s features. After a moment, he sunk to his knees until he was close enough to see the slow pumping of the vein embedded in Jesus’s neck. Careful not to awaken him, he let one hand fall toward the boy’s throat. Parting his collar, he reached inside and found the copper medallion. With great care, he pressed his fingertips along its face. One by one, he divined the raised lines of the great sycamore. Even in their silence, they spoke to him, like a missive from his mother.

Feeling suddenly uplifted, he gazed deep into the sky and scanned its silvery lace. As he watched, a comet streaked across the dark, soundless, as if someone had dipped a quill into light and sketched it.

In that moment, he allowed himself to rejoice at the boy’s survival. For he knew that his facing the wolves alone could have ended in tragedy.

And though glad for the boy’s success, the elder shepherd felt troubled by another concern. He wondered if the boy’s reckless need to protect others, and his willingness to risk his own safety to do so, might endanger his journey—or his future.

But Solomon also knew, intimately, the root of the young shepherd’s desire. For he, too, carried the unbearable shame of having failed to protect his mother from harm. And, for this reason, he doubted that he himself could alleviate the tendency within his charge.

Repairing such damage, he thought, was better left to the Sisters.

CHAPTER 6

South of the Sea of Galilee—14 A.D.

Wind drove across a flat, open field, rolling broad waves through a sea of scarlet anemones. The shepherds led their flocks through the brilliance, clicking their tongues to keep the animals moving. It had been a good year. Both the shepherds and their charges had put on weight. With the annual celebration of Passover approaching, they made their way toward Jerusalem, where they would find a ready market for their sheep. And a world of sensual delights for their travel-weary souls.