Normally the stretch of land the shepherds had come to, a sweeping plain bordered by mountains to the north and vast desert to the east, was fertile and welcoming. One of Solomon’s favorite places, he often grazed his flocks there. But the recent drought had withered his paradise, and the shepherds found themselves forced to travel directly from one water source to the next in order to ensure that they, and their animals, did not die of thirst. Several of the shepherds had traveled this route with Solomon before, but as they drew deeper and deeper into the desiccated land, and the rain’s mercy continued to elude them, they expected Solomon to announce that they were turning back.

He did not.

Instead, much to their surprise, he insisted that they push ahead.

“Now that we have come to the center of the plain, the journey back would prove just as difficult as the one ahead,” he told them one night as they gathered around the fire.

The men groaned, knowing it was true.

“But at least we know for certain where the springs are in the land we have already crossed,” Akbar suggested.

Solomon nodded. “True. But many of them have begun to dry up. And I believe that when we arrive at the mouth of the Great Desert, and begin our southward descent along its border, we will find the springs there more enlivened.”

Hearing this, the men exchanged looks in the firelight. Though some harbored doubts, none dared openly express them.

Jesus lay on his mat, reluctant to rise. He had slept well but felt an unusual lightness in his head and a thickness inhabiting his limbs. The strange sensations had affected him for several mornings and he had begun to wonder if the symptoms were due to lack of water.

But then why were the others not suffering the same?

Remaining still, he listened to the tent flap snapping in the wind. Outside, he heard the men rousing the sheep with clucks and whistles. Soon came the crackle of the fire and the smell of its heat. Then the low murmur of the men’s prayers.

Just as Jesus lifted himself onto his elbows, Peter burst inside the tent. His face appeared pale, his expression drawn.

“What is it?” Jesus asked, alarmed by his friend’s pallor.

Peter glanced over his shoulder and drew closer. From behind his back he drew a goatskin pouch. Confused, Jesus glanced inside its opened mouth. At its bottom, he saw four or five handfuls of lentils. Still baffled, Jesus asked, “Is something wrong with the beans?”

Peter nodded. “This is all we have left,” he whispered. He bit his lip. “I thought we had more, but I misjudged.”

Jesus frowned. “Perhaps you did not account for the ewes’ reaching the end of their cycle? Without their milk, we are eating more of our stores.”