“Solomon,” Jesus asked, kneeling beside him, trying to keep his voice steady. “What should we do?”

“Let me rest,” the shepherd wheezed and grit his teeth in agony.

“He is better!” Akbar called, having been given the duty of watching Solomon through the night.

The men gathered and waited for their leader to speak. The fallen shepherd rubbed his eyes and wiped the crust from his cheeks. His color, though better, remained unhealthy. A slight tremor shook his limbs. They wrapped him in blankets and sat him closer to the fire. They then waited, but the shepherd said nothing.

Eliah grew despondent. “What will we do?” he asked. “Which way should we go now that you are unable to make the journey through The Narrows? Either way, without provisions we will suffer mightily!” The questions hung in the air.

The shepherds looked to one another for answers but found only empty stares. Solomon remained silent. It was almost as if he had surrendered. Jesus could feel the shepherds’ unrest. He looked into their eyes. Profound hunger and thirst could make even the most seasoned among them mutinous. And while he had never witnessed an uprising, he had heard the stories.

Why does Solomon not speak up? What is he waiting for?

“Solomon,” Simon begged.

But Solomon said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on a point above their heads. One by one, the shepherds rose to depart.

If they left, Jesus realized, Solomon’s authority would be compromised. And anyone might step in to fill the vacuum. Jesus looked down at Solomon’s trembling hands, his crusty lips, and the sickened yellow of his skin. In these details, Jesus realized the finality of the moment. Watching the others turn to go, he knew that within seconds the fulcrum would shift, the balance would be lost, and the opportunity, the opening into freedom, would likely never come again. He stood and felt his years as a shepherd rising behind him like a wave. He steeled his courage and said, “I will go.”

The men froze in their tracks.

“What?” Akbar blurted.

Solomon lifted his eyes to meet those of his young shepherd. And in the gaze that passed between them, each received the sign he was seeking.

CHAPTER 8

Somewhere near the Great Desert outside ancient Palestine—16 A.D.

Mathias packed the last of Jesus’s supplies into an old pouch. Simon then handed him a short dagger and told him to keep it close and always at the ready. “The jinn are powerful and devious spirits. Do not let them tempt you,” he warned.

Jesus lifted his staff and goatskin of water and faced the first landmark Solomon had indicated—a long, slanted ridgeline of columnar rocks far in the distance. “Keep the crest of the ridge always in front of you,” Solomon had said. “If you do this, you will arrive at your destination.”