Three Wise Cats (12 page)

“Our passage is paid,” Balthazar said.

“We will escort you to King Herod,” the officer decided. “You are but one day's travel from his city, so you have only this night to camp upon the desert before you sleep in a palace.” Laughing coarsely, he kicked his horse and gathered his men. They watched until the travelers were ready to leave, and then the officer rode to the head of the group while the foot soldiers brought up the rear.

Ira was appalled at the slovenly appearance of the soldiers and their equally dirty officer in command.
Even the horse's trappings are in poor condition,
he noted, watching the leader from his basket on Kaspar's camel.
None of them have bathed in weeks. They smell almost as bad as Asmodeus, by Mars.

In camp that night, the three cats sat in a group so they could talk softly while on sentry duty. The city of Jerusalem was on the horizon, and small campfires dotted the desert landscape. Many other travelers—merchants, businessmen, slave traders, religious scholars, and pilgrims—were journeying to the city also.

“Who is this King Herod?” Kezia asked. “And why did the officer threaten Kaspar with imprisonment for all of us if they had no passage money?”

“I think they may not be actual soldiers in service to this King Herod they speak of,” Ira said. “They resemble a band of brigands rather than military men. They are not Roman soldiers. I expect them to simply melt away, as the wolves did, once we are inside the city gates.”

“As for Herod,” Abishag said next. “He may well be the man Ptolemy called the ‘false king.' We do know he is certainly not the one we seek.”

“Well, I shall see a real palace at last,” Kezia said. “But somehow things of that sort are beginning to seem less important. You know—” She paused. “I miss Gracus and Polla and Citus. But most of all, I am beginning to miss the ship and poor Alexos.”

“What? Why?” Ira asked her, startled.

“You will think I am foolish. But Alexos thought I was the most intelligent, most beautiful cat he had ever seen. All because I killed that snake! He would slip tiny bits of delicacies to me after that. I tasted oyster and shrimp, mussel, and even rare abalone. If I fell asleep on his desk as he plotted the next day's course for the ship, he never pushed me roughly aside. Sometimes when I doze in my basket aboard Melchior's camel, I think I'm back on the ship . . .” Her voice trailed off, and Kezia looked dejected.

Abishag touched noses with her foster sister. “Why don't you plan on returning to Alexos, once we have completed our journey to see the Messiah?”

“But I would have to leave you two, if I did so.”

Ira took a deep breath. “You would not be leaving me, for if the gods—or Ptolemy's One God, of Whom he taught us, permits, I wish to rejoin Gracus. I want to continue being a soldier; it is to my taste.”

Abishag looked up at the star, which had grown huge in the eastern sky as they traveled these last weeks. She had already known the others did not wish to return to the tower. “We three will see the King of Kings,” she said softly. “And then we three shall be parted, for I wish to return home.”

“To Ptolemy,” Kezia said. “Have you never realized he loves you?”

“He loves me as a daughter,” Abishag told her.

“I don't think that's true,” Ira said. “I saw his face when you would enter our room at the tower. He always looked happier to see you than either of us.”

Now it was Kezia's turn to reassure her sister. “Ira's right. You will be a good wife to Ptolemy. And even though he is old, he still may have many more years left.”

Abishag sighed and began to wash her face with a paw.

“Thank you for your kind words. I, too, hope Ptolemy still lives, for I want to tell him of all we have seen and done.”
I will not allow myself to hope he cares for me as I do for him,
she thought
. That hope must be set aside for the future.

Carefully concealed in a pack, Asmodeus scratched a flea bite.
Well, I have no desire to return to that tower. But I hope I may never see another camel again in my life. Wretched creatures; they spit upon you when they are displeased—and when are they not?

As the sun came up, the servants busied themselves with packs that had not yet been opened during the journey. Asmodeus had to desert his usual hiding places many times to avoid being caught by a human. Rich trappings for the camels were produced, and saddles were hung with tiny golden bells that rang sweetly with the beasts' movements. Beautiful, heavy robes with lavish embroidery and fur were pulled from the packs for the wise men, and their servants were dressed in bright colors of wool. Jewels twinkled from hands and chests. As their leather collars were gently removed and ropes of small pearls hung about their necks, Kezia and Abishag teased Ira about his obvious reluctance to part with the leather harness Citus had crafted for him.

“Come, little soldier,” Kaspar said gently. “Do not hiss at me; you frightened my poor servant a moment ago. I will have your soldier's garb cleaned with saddle soap and carefully re-stitched while you match your sisters' finery and wear a gold chain as we enter the city.”

Melchior chuckled. “He feels as foolish as we do in all this grandeur.”

“But we must make an impression upon this king and win his regard if we are to be allowed passage to the Messiah,” Balthazar said. “He rules not just Jerusalem, but all of Judea. And yet he began as a zealous tax collector.”

“I heard he was valiant in battle,” Melchior said. “And became a favored son of Rome by that means also.”

A sumptuous procession entered Jerusalem upon that cold winter morning. People stood and stared, elbowing and pointing fingers for their neighbors to look also at the spectacle. Murmurs ran through the crowd: “They must be kings—only look how richly they are clothed!” “Even their servants are attired in wool and silk.” “Not only servants—see the cage of doves—and is that cat wearing pearls?”

True to Ira's prediction, the motley group of soldiers had disappeared as the three wise men and their entourage entered the city. The black cat was glad to see real Roman soldiers just inside the gate, awaiting the travelers.
Clean and in uniform as soldiers should be,
he thought.

“In the emperor's name and that of King Herod, where do you travel and whom do you seek?” asked the gatekeeper.

“Hail to the emperor and also hail to King Herod,” Kaspar began. “We seek an audience with King Herod, if it please him, for we have prophecies to relate and to verify with him.”

A detachment of soldiers marched up then and quickly pushed aside the bystanders and foot traffic, opening the crowded road for the travelers. Six cavalrymen rode up and turned their mounts to lead the travelers to Herod's palace. “Follow these men,” the gatekeeper ordered and returned to his post.

Oh, my,
Kezia thought.
I often wished to see a procession such as this, and now I'm in one myself. What a strange world I have entered upon.

Word of the visitors had of course been relayed with all haste to King Herod, and the heavily guarded gates to his palace stood open as they neared them. The contrast between the houses and walls of the city was startling, for the palace gleamed even at a distance with gold and inlaid tiles. A huge courtyard with a fountain many feet high could be seen as well, making the city about the palace seem drab and commonplace.

Once inside, the small caravan was greeted by King Herod's higher-ranking officials. Palace servants and slaves hurried to help the travelers dismount and offered delicate bowls of perfumed water and soft towels to dry their hands. They were then ushered to a wing of the huge building set aside especially for guests and visitors, or so they were informed by yet another official.

“May we speak with King Herod?” Kaspar asked.

“The king has not been well,” the man answered. “I myself will ask his attendants to proffer your request to him. Meanwhile, please enjoy the comforts with which we have provided you.” And he turned and left the main hall of the guests' wing.

“There is a feeling of deep sadness within this place,” Melchior said softly, leaning toward his companions so he could not be overheard.

“It is an oppressive feeling, to my heart,” Kaspar said. “We should not linger here, whether we are granted audience with King Herod or not.”

Balthazar quietly gave orders to their servants to water the camels well and to remove the bells from their saddles.

“Also, except for the four of you who must accompany us, put away your own finery and lay out plain robes for us. Replace the cats' pearl necklaces with their leather collars, and return to the small soldier his leather harness. We shall leave immediately after whatever word comes from the king.”

They settled themselves to wait.

To their surprise, within twenty minutes slippers could be heard slapping the marble floors of the corridor leading to their temporary quarters. The doves fluttered in their cage in fright as a slave ran into the room and prostrated himself at Kaspar's feet.

“King Herod bids you welcome, and to follow me to his rooms, for he has not been well, and does not wish to risk chilling himself.”

The three men looked at one another, for the entire palace was overly warm, despite the winter winds.

“We are honored by his welcome,” Melchior replied and raised the slave to his feet. “Why, you are but a boy!”

“I am in training for service to King Herod, king of the Jews,” he answered. “And I have enough years to serve him well.”

They had been offered subtle insult by Herod's officials having sent a mere slave lad to summon them to the presence of the king, but the men ignored the slight and began gathering their gifts.

Kaspar walked quickly to the cats' basket. “Stay here, little ones,” he said softly. “This is a dangerous place for us all. When we return, we shall depart immediately.” Ira looked up into Kaspar's face and quietly settled himself again in the basket, his foster sisters following suit.

Kaspar smiled at them. “You are good cats.”

Two of their own servants carried the graceful golden cage with the three doves; another bore an intricately carved and inlaid wooden box in which the rings rested on silk; and the fourth carried a fortune's worth of unmounted jewels in a golden goblet. All followed the slave boy down the long hall.

They entered the stiflingly hot audience room, kept so with huge braziers laden with fiery coals in every corner. The three wise men bowed to the figure reclining upon a low bench with pillows heaped at one end.

“We bring greetings to you from lands that are many miles from here,” Kaspar began.

Herod waved a hand. “I know you are visitors,” his voice rasped. “What do you wish of me?”