Julian returned from Jerusalem at the close of the Sabbath to spend the night in Bethlehem’s caravansary. He slept little and rose before dawn to shave and carefully put on the borrowed uniform of a cavalryman. Over the yellow tunic went a skirt of brass-studded leather. Next came a sword whose scabbard buckled on the right side, then a thick, red wool cloak decorated with brass epaulets and a long-plumed red helmet. He was sure he looked sensational.
He rode at once to the edge of town, where Caleb had promised to meet him at dawn. No one was about. He dismounted and sat down on a tree stump, listening for the sound of approaching animals and the shouts of herdsmen. None came. An hour passed.
Rose-tinged morning clouds appeared on the horizon. Slowly, daylight peered over the hills of Judah. Julian wondered if the tribe had left in another direction. The chieftain was unreliable. He shouldn’t have paid him in advance. He had stressed the need of avoiding a daylight departure, since someone might spot the holy family and report it to Herod’s sentries.
The sun was now up. Yet, there was no sign of the nomads. Knowing that Anna and her family would be worried, Julian rode to the grotto. Everyone waited nervously outside the stable. Mary sat on the ground, holding Jesus, while Joseph helped the Essene women remove all traces of their occupancy here. Julian noticed that Jesus was still in swaddling clothes—a custom of the Jews who believed straight limbs would be assured by binding long linen strips tightly about the infant. Neither arms nor legs could move.
Anna and Cleophas were about to head north along the Jordan Valley to their home in Sepphoris. Julian told everyone, “The nomads haven’t come, so I’m going to their camp. I hope they haven’t departed in the night.” He turned to Anna. “I will do my best for you. Nomads or not, I’ll get your family out of Bethlehem.” He wheeled his horse around and galloped off to the tribe’s campground.
It was a relief to find the nomads still there, milling around.
“You’re long overdue at the marketplace!” he shouted to Caleb. “Why the delay?”
The chieftain ran to him. “Our herd was raided in the night by wolves. They killed some of our sheep. The terrified animals scattered everywhere. We’ve just rounded them up.”
“Can you come now?”
“Yes, we’re ready.” He shouted to the other herdsmen, and the caravan made its slow way south. The guards at the north gate knew Caleb from previous years, so they waved the nomads through. They continued into town, but before they had reached the market square, Julian brought Mary and Joseph into their company.
He handed Joseph a dried, empty gourd with a rope attached to it. “Here’s something you may need in drawing water from any well. It has a stone in it to give it sufficient weight.”
Joseph was visibly surprised. “You are very thoughtful, Julian. We will never forget your concern for us.”
He walked with the donkey that carried the panniers loaded with their meager possessions, while Mary rode the other animal with Jesus completely hidden in her arms.
Julian noticed how skillfully she had applied the stibium to her hands and face. She looked little different than the sunbrowned tribal women.
The slow movement of the flocks and people aggravated Julian. He left them to join Caleb riding a donkey at the head of the procession.
The moment they entered the main street of Bethlehem, chaos struck. The square was seething with crowds of unwashed mendicants and overbearing merchants shouting their bargains for the day. The goats panicked. They burst into open shops, scattering the goods everywhere. The sheep took their cues from the goats and jumped about bleating hysterically. Some turned around and tried to go against the stream. The herdsmen shouted wildly in their attempt to control the animals. Shopkeepers pelted them with sticks. Yet in spite of the turmoil, the women and children managed to continue on their way.
Julian spotted Mary, with her precious bundle, trying to guide her bewildered donkey through the unruly creatures. He forced his horse through them to reach her and took the animal’s rope from her hand. He quickly led the confused animal out of the disorderly mass. By now, the troop of nomads had gotten into the outskirts of town. Behind them, Julian could hear the angry screams of the protesting shop owners, since the panicky animals had littered the streets with their dung.
The six-week-old Jesus, frightened by the hubbub and bleating around him, began to cry. Mary was obviously fearful that attention would be brought on them. She shushed him, and he grew quiet.
Julian, out in front of the melee, was shocked to see not one or two sentries waiting there, but a half dozen. He seethed with anger. If these overly devout Jews had left yesterday, Herod wouldn’t have had time to send additional guards here. Joseph had tried in vain to explain the stupid law that forbad its people from traveling on the Sabbath farther than the distance from the Mount of Olives to Jerusalem. Why that was a distance of only six stadia or a walk of twenty minutes!
Julian took the offensive. He rode up to the new sentries demanding, “Why are you here? I was asked to escort this tribe through the gate and send them on their way.”
“Herod ordered us to examine all the departing infants. We are looking for the new king of the Jews.”
“There is no need for that. The babies are all girls. Isn’t that true, Caleb?”
The chieftain nodded vigorously, too frightened to speak.
The sentry said determinedly, “We’ll check each one, nevertheless.”
They spotted the first mother, snatched her infant and tore apart its blanket. Seeing it was a girl, they looked around for another mother and child.
Mary rode along with head lowered, urging her donkey to move faster. Julian forced his horse through the nomads to her.
While the sentries were occupied checking the second mother’s infant, he snatched Jesus from Mary’s arms and thrust him under the folds of his generous cloak.
“This is our only chance,” he said quickly. “I’ll wait for you beyond the gate.”
She was stunned by the suddenness of his action. Joseph, seeing the transfer, panicked. He suspected it was a clever scheme on Herod’s part to get Jesus. He shouted, “Stop that Roman!” No one paid any attention to him in the confusion.
Seeing that Mary was not carrying a child and the other women had been checked, the head centurion called out, “The one we seek is not here! We return to Jerusalem!’
Julian had now reached the gate where two of the sentries waited. He yelled to them, “I’m not needed here any longer, so I’ll be on my way.”
The guards nodded and turned their attention to the bleating animals coming through.
After riding a short distance south, Julian brought out from beneath his cloak the half-suffocated Jesus. The infant was awake, his brow frowning at the sight of a stranger. He didn’t cry, but focused his expressive blue eyes on Julian’s red-plumed helmet. Looking back, Julian saw the legionnaires head north, so he stopped beside the road. In a short time, frantic Mary and Joseph reached him.
Mary wept when he handed Jesus to her, and Joseph stood shamefaced before him. “Forgive me for suspecting the worst,” he said humbly. “We’ll thank God every day for your bravery.”
Julian replied with impatience, “You must travel as fast as possible today. I’ll try to turn suspicion of your escape to Samaria or Galilee. Good luck on your way to Gaza.” He took a long look at Jesus, wheeled his mount around, and headed north.
It was curious, he thought, how his arms and hands tingled. He would never forget the beautiful eyes of the infant he had pressed against his heart. Anna’s grandchild was special. He had not screamed, as so many children did. It would be interesting to see him when he was grown. Would he look like exquisite Mary or plain Joseph?
Julian had learned at the last moment that a group of Essenes had left ahead of the holy family, and another group was to follow them, by way of protection, all the way to Gaza.
He breathed a sigh of relief. It had been an exhilarating day! Anna would be enormously impressed by his actions. And he could go back to Herod, knowing he had triumphed over him. To outwit this insane ruler had become a new and exciting goal for Julian. Yet, he felt a vague fear for the missing infant and family. The procurator, with vast armies at his command, would continue the search relentlessly.