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23.12.22

THE CAMEL HERDER

 


THE CAMEL HERDER

It was a mystery why my master undertook such a journey in mid-winter – all that way west just because he saw a brighter than usual star. He said it marked the birth of a king, which seems a bit far-fetched to me, but it’s not my place to question - the whims of the wealthy are impossible to fathom.

The camels didn’t appreciate leaving their warm stable, but with a mixture of goading and coaxing I got them moving. Travelling at night wasn’t easy, and I lost count of the number of times I stumbled over a rock in the dark. The camels’ big flat feet coped much better, but I had to keep hold of them - the kings were sleeping in their saddles half the night and I’d get the blame if one of them fell.

When we reached Judea, naturally we stopped at the palace, but no prince had been born there. Even so the ruler, Herod, made us welcome. It was bliss to sleep in clean straw that night, but we were off early the next day, and I heard the kings talking as they rode.

“Herod has invited us to stay longer on our return journey.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“What harm could he do to us with our well-armed retinue?”

“It isn’t us he would harm – an angel told me last night he means to kill the child.”

“You and your dreams! But why kill a baby?”

“Didn’t you see his face when Caspar referred to him as a king?”

“Ah – he fears the child may grow to be competition.”

The first shock was that this prince wasn’t born in a palace, not even in a decent house, but a stable! There they knelt, all three kings prostrating themselves in the straw and muck, and in their best robes too. They gave their gifts to the child and, call me fanciful if you like, I swear there was an aura about him. What’s more, it looked for all the world as if that tiny hand blessed them before they left for the comfortable lodgings their gold had secured in the crowded town.

After I’d settled the camels for the night I peered over into the next stall, hoping to see for myself what the fuss had been about. The child was suckling like any other baby, but the mother’s expression was strange. It was in part a mother’s love for her child, mingled with a touch of awe, but there was also fear, as if she knew a shadow hung over his future. His father gave me a look so I dropped back into the straw and slept, dreaming dark dreams.

We started for home in the morning, using another road that took us nowhere near Herod’s palace. The star remained over the stable.

A year or so later news reached us of a dreadful massacre. Apparently Herod was so afraid this baby king would seize his throne that he had killed every boy child in his kingdom. It makes the heart bleed to imagine it. I never did trust the Romans.

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I often wonder what stories lurk behind the main one - what were the thoughts of the huge retinue of staff that would have accompanied the journey of three kings from Persian lands afar. So this is how I imagine one of them might have reacted to being dragged across several countries in winter. I hope you enjoy reading it.

1 comment:

  1. I’m sure many in the retinue were perplexed but you have presented an accurate young voice with questions.

    ReplyDelete

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