6 As evening fell, Isaac stood at his door. Unlike Ishmael, Isaac was a Jew. He was born in Bethlehem, like his father and his father’s father before him. Usually, his days followed the same routine: in the morning, after ritual prayers, he would go to the synagogue for lessons with the rabbi. There he studied the Word of God and the tradition of the elders. Then he would go back home to help his father, who worked as a stone mason. If he had free time after work, Isaac would lead the other boys his age out to play on the hillsides. Energetic, fair, and loyal by nature, he would make a fine leader, if only he did not enjoy lording it over everyone quite so much. The only person who could restrain his pride and make him see sense was his sister, Jemina. Two years younger than he, she was pretty, with long brown hair and hazel eyes, and was always cheerful. Her big-hearted nature had a soothing influence on her big brother. Isaac’s routine had been turned upside down by the arrival of all these people for the census. It was bitterly cold, but the rain had stopped. Isaac could hear bleating in the night and spotted campfires in the distance. “More shepherds!” he thought. “Thieves and bandits, no doubt, just like the rest of them.”
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