Seeker of Stars: A Novel by Susan Fish Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Susan Fish
it seemed.”
Balzar sank back into his chair. Describing the dream had brought him a smile as of a happy memory. His description had been more brief than most dream stories, but there was a ring of authenticity to it.
Discussion of Balzar’s dream and its interpretation was lengthy. At first, magi tried to be tactful, but Balzar cut through their fine words. “We must state the matter plainly: I am old. My health is uncertain. If I were chosen to be part of this delegation, it is altogether possible the journey could kill me. I am aware of this. I am also aware that I could die in my comfortable bed tomorrow. I am not afraid to try.”
“The trip will be strenuous,” Caspar pointed out.
“But this task is one of diplomacy. We require wisdom, not might,” argued another.
“And there are dangers on the highway.”
“If Balzar were to become ill …?”
“I could be left behind.”
“It would not slow our trip.”
“Nor is speed the essential thing.”
“Except that our king wants a prompt delivery of his gifts to the new king,” Shaz reminded. “I do not think Bal—”
The chief astronomer interrupted Shaz. “Balthazar’s dream is persuasive. I appoint him as our final representative.”
As the magi began rising from this long council, I had to speak. “You’ve only chosen three.”
The chief astronomer looked at me. “I thought it was understood, Melchior.”
I shook my head.
“As the one responsible for the discovery of the prophetic scroll,” said the chief astronomer, “you will join the delegation to Jerusalem.”
The moment stood still with clarity. I saw Shaz roll his eyes, heard the cacophony of laughter from those who evidently thought it was a good joke that I hadn’t realized my reward. Balzar squeezed my shoulder. My heart filled with delight as my skin prickled with astonishment. I had watched the negotiations of many councils. I knew myself to be a perpetual spectator to the politics, and now, with no effort or ambition on my part, I was chosen.
The stars shone in the heavens as I floated home, too dazed and delighted to discuss the matter further.
Reta was already in bed when I crept in, though she awoke at my entrance. Her sleep had become more and more fragmented as the pregnancy progressed. She knew the subject of our council, and, yawning as she rolled over, she said, “Let me guess: Shaz and Caspar.”
“They chose me.”
“You!” Reta sat up and looked full in my face. “Are you joking?”
I shook my head. Reta stood up, walked slowly across the room, then stopped and came back to sit on the bed. “You. Going,” she said. With her hair around her shoulders, she looked like a young girl. Her lips quivered, and then tears coursed silently down her cheeks. I reached an arm out, but she shook it off and stroked her hair with her hands.
“Are you not happy?” I asked carefully. “It’s a great honor.”
She looked up, tears still streaming from her eyes. “Oh, Melchior,” she said, “it is such an honor I had never dreamed of. I feel struck with it—like a blow. It is a shock.”
“A good shock.”
She held her face in her hands as if to steady herself. Her small voice floated up through her hair. “When—when will you leave?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t discuss details.”
“Days? Weeks?”
“Days likely,” I said. “As soon as the stars are favorable. Shaz will want to get going.”
“And the trip will take—”
“One month. Possibly two.”
She looked up at me, tears spent, eyes flat. “Your child is expected in one month or possibly two.”
She said nothing else to me before I left two days later, other than what was absolutely necessary. She said nothing when in guilt and haste I brought home a birthing chair and a basket and set them up. She said nothing when I told her Balzar had arranged for two Hebrew midwives to visit and to be prepared to deliver the child. She said nothing at my eyes, which were rimmed red with
Balzar sank back into his chair. Describing the dream had brought him a smile as of a happy memory. His description had been more brief than most dream stories, but there was a ring of authenticity to it.
Discussion of Balzar’s dream and its interpretation was lengthy. At first, magi tried to be tactful, but Balzar cut through their fine words. “We must state the matter plainly: I am old. My health is uncertain. If I were chosen to be part of this delegation, it is altogether possible the journey could kill me. I am aware of this. I am also aware that I could die in my comfortable bed tomorrow. I am not afraid to try.”
“The trip will be strenuous,” Caspar pointed out.
“But this task is one of diplomacy. We require wisdom, not might,” argued another.
“And there are dangers on the highway.”
“If Balzar were to become ill …?”
“I could be left behind.”
“It would not slow our trip.”
“Nor is speed the essential thing.”
“Except that our king wants a prompt delivery of his gifts to the new king,” Shaz reminded. “I do not think Bal—”
The chief astronomer interrupted Shaz. “Balthazar’s dream is persuasive. I appoint him as our final representative.”
As the magi began rising from this long council, I had to speak. “You’ve only chosen three.”
The chief astronomer looked at me. “I thought it was understood, Melchior.”
I shook my head.
“As the one responsible for the discovery of the prophetic scroll,” said the chief astronomer, “you will join the delegation to Jerusalem.”
The moment stood still with clarity. I saw Shaz roll his eyes, heard the cacophony of laughter from those who evidently thought it was a good joke that I hadn’t realized my reward. Balzar squeezed my shoulder. My heart filled with delight as my skin prickled with astonishment. I had watched the negotiations of many councils. I knew myself to be a perpetual spectator to the politics, and now, with no effort or ambition on my part, I was chosen.
The stars shone in the heavens as I floated home, too dazed and delighted to discuss the matter further.
Reta was already in bed when I crept in, though she awoke at my entrance. Her sleep had become more and more fragmented as the pregnancy progressed. She knew the subject of our council, and, yawning as she rolled over, she said, “Let me guess: Shaz and Caspar.”
“They chose me.”
“You!” Reta sat up and looked full in my face. “Are you joking?”
I shook my head. Reta stood up, walked slowly across the room, then stopped and came back to sit on the bed. “You. Going,” she said. With her hair around her shoulders, she looked like a young girl. Her lips quivered, and then tears coursed silently down her cheeks. I reached an arm out, but she shook it off and stroked her hair with her hands.
“Are you not happy?” I asked carefully. “It’s a great honor.”
She looked up, tears still streaming from her eyes. “Oh, Melchior,” she said, “it is such an honor I had never dreamed of. I feel struck with it—like a blow. It is a shock.”
“A good shock.”
She held her face in her hands as if to steady herself. Her small voice floated up through her hair. “When—when will you leave?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t discuss details.”
“Days? Weeks?”
“Days likely,” I said. “As soon as the stars are favorable. Shaz will want to get going.”
“And the trip will take—”
“One month. Possibly two.”
She looked up at me, tears spent, eyes flat. “Your child is expected in one month or possibly two.”
She said nothing else to me before I left two days later, other than what was absolutely necessary. She said nothing when in guilt and haste I brought home a birthing chair and a basket and set them up. She said nothing when I told her Balzar had arranged for two Hebrew midwives to visit and to be prepared to deliver the child. She said nothing at my eyes, which were rimmed red with