For the Sake of a Child

For the Sake of a Child

She pressed the baby to her breast and smiled. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”

Artaban looked at the mother and then the child – just a fleshy brown thing – and nodded. “He is very beautiful.” And he meant it. The baby was smiling, smiling so widely that it seemed that God had reached out to tickle him.

“His father is out, doing something else,” she continued. “But I believe he’ll be happy to have you. A guest! We haven’t had one in ages!”

Artaban looked around. Their place was a shack at best, but it was cool and that was the important thing. He lay back on the dusty wall. “Have you heard about the star?”

“The star?”

“Yes, the star.” His voice quivered just slightly. “The star that appeared, just a couple of weeks ago.”

Her face glowed. “I thought it was an angel.” She laughed and then bounced the baby in her lap. “Yes, yes, I suppose it was a star. It appeared over there, as if it was sitting on a stable. Isn’t that funny? Yes, yes, isn’t that funny?” Her words melted into cooing and she rocked the boy in her lap.

“A stable?” Artaban said. “How could it be a stable?”

“I’m just telling you what I saw.” She kissed her baby’s head. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”

“Yes.” He smiled and leaned back, fingering the jewels in his pocket. They were for the Prince. “Was there someone in the stable?” he asked, trying to make his voice sound relaxed.

“Yes, a family. From Nazareth. They were in a hurry though and they had to leave quickly, to Egypt. It’s a shame. Isn’t it?”

“I suppose. Do you know where they are?

It was then that they heard the scream.

The woman pressed the baby closer into her breast her eyes widened. The sound was a woman’s scream and it sounded fairly close.

“What is that?” Artaban said.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

Artaban hesitated, finally standing up and peering out the window. There were soldiers, surrounding… something… and standing outside of them was a woman, her face soaked in tears, screaming as loudly as she could. Then the guards withdrew, a small something falling out of their hands.

It was a baby.

Except it didn’t look like a baby since it wasn’t brown and it wasn’t crying like it should have, falling from his arms. It was red. And it was limp. Artaban peered closer. The baby was dead.

“What’s happening?” the woman said. Artaban jumped, forgetting that she was there, and then looked at her with an odd look on his face.

“It’s nothing.”

And then, just as he spoke, the soldiers moved. And then, in precise military fashion, the soldiers marched into another house. Another scream. Then they left and raided another house.

The woman was panicked, huddled on the floor, a wild look in her eyes. “What are they doing?” she asked again. When Artaban said nothing, she asked, “Is my husband all right?”

“He’s fine,” Artaban said.

“Then what’s happening?”

Almost as if to answer her, a woman screamed out, “The soldiers! The soldiers are killing our babies!”

Artaban flinched when he heard this and turned to the woman. She was quiet, looking down at her baby with a detachedness that scared him. He thought about going over to comfort her, but thought better of it. “I’ll protect you.” But as he looked out of the window at the gathering mob of men and women, determined to stop the soldiers, he realized it was impossible. The men that sprang forth were sliced in half by the soldiers and women… the women…

He watched a soldier stab a woman, forcing the sword deep within her stomach and then out, striking the ear off a man who tried to stop him. They were unstoppable.

He couldn’t fight them.

“Hide the child,” he said suddenly, though he knew he didn’t have to tell her that. Already, she was in the darkest corner, rocking the child so he wouldn’t wake.

There was a knock.

Artaban threw open the door and stood in the middle, letting his chest fill the doorway. The men backed away from him cautiously, wiping their bloody hands on their armor.

“Sir, step aside please,” said a man who was evidently the captain.

“Why?”

The captain bowed. “We are under orders from King Herod to search every house.”

Artaban paused and looked over the captain. Then, fingering the jewels meant for the Prince, he hesitated and pulled out the ruby, which shone as red as the men’s hands. Their eyes grew wider and they stepped forward.

“I am alone,” he said. “Leave me in peace.”

The captain hesitated, but only for a moment, watching the ruby with thirsty eyes. Then he snatched it out of the man’s hands, the ruby’s reflection glittering in his eyes. “Come on men, let’s go.” They headed for the next house.

A minute passed and then another. Artaban slumped against the door and held his head, hiding away from the screaming. He felt sick and, in his pocket, he fingered the pearl, the last jewel he had left for the Prince. He would give it to Him soon. He would. And when the Prince came, he would kill Herod’s army and…

Finally the woman stood up, still holding her baby. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome,” he said.