Who in Bethlehem could guess that their tiny, obscure village, populated by shepherds, would become the hinge upon which all history turns . . . and the focus of a terrifying rampage? Sixth Covenant is the conclusion of the three-book Nativity story within the A.D. Chronicles series. Sixth Covenant chronicles Mary, Yosef, and baby Yeshua in the first months of his life in Bethlehem. From the shepherd's visit to the escape to Egypt to the Bethlehem babies who gave their life for Jesus, discover the most critical events in the history of the world. They're simple shepherds, living a sparse existence. Yet upon their obscure village will fall the greatest wonder of all time . . . and the most terrifying rampage. Beth-lehem, six miles from Jerusalem, is comprised of simple folk who spend their days tending sheep, newborn lambs, and their own families. Among them-as guests of Zadok, Rachel, and their three little boys-are Mary, Yosef, and baby Yeshua, whose birth was announced by a miraculous conjunction of the stars and a throng of angels in the sheep fields. Convinced by their study of the stars and prophecies that the long-awaited Messiah has been born, foreigners travel toward Jerusalem. Surely the capital city of the Jews will hold the answer to the mystery they have sought for months. Tortured by nightmares that someone is coming to take over his kingdom, King Herod grows more paranoid. He gives an order to his soldiers-one more devastating and evil than anyone could imagine. That very night soldiers and their mounts thunder toward Beth-lehem, the village of the sacrificial lambs. . . . Sixth Covenant By Bodie Thoene Brock Thoene Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. Copyright © 2007 Bodie and Brock Thoene All right reserved. ISBN: 978-0-8423-7522-1 Chapter One The newborn was wide-eyed and quiet in the manger of the lambing cave. He raised His right arm, stretching tiny fingers toward the face of Yosef. Such a calm, serious baby! The midwives marveled. Mary, His mother, rested in fresh straw beside the makeshift crib. Yosef, earthly guardian of the Messiah, lovingly studied the infant's features. Let us make man in our own image. Nearby an ox and a donkey munched fodder. Lambs and ewes slept in pens, unperturbed by momentous events. The elapsed time since The Eternal Son of God first drew breath as a Son of Man on earth could be counted by a single hour and a handful of minutes. Yet His true age was beyond time-everlasting-and thus beyond human comprehension. Israel had sought the Messiah like men search for gold in the heart of a great mountain. Stone by stone the earth was overturned, yet the Eternal Treasure remained locked away. So many generations had longed to see His face that now most suspected the Messiah was only a legend. But on this last night of Hanukkah the final candle had been lit. For unto us a son is given. A single gold nugget, washed from the heavenly mountain by the will of God, glinted in the flickering light. Hope was reborn. Redemption, for which the suffering world longed, was fulfilled in the cry of a newborn. By design of Yahweh, The Eternal, this babe was the guarantee that Eternal Treasure awaited all who called upon His name! Could it really be true, the shepherds wondered, that the Lord Almighty chose to express His love for Israel through the birth of a baby? Upon reflection it was decided that the best stories in Torah almost always began with the birth of a long-awaited son. Yet tonight everything had seemed so ordinary: A young woman in labor urgently seeking shelter in a village packed with travelers. A baby boy born in the warmth of Beth-lehem's lambing cave. It was hard to see the miracle in that. Yet it was a miracle. The Son of God reached out to the world from the womb of a virgin as the prophets foretold. The first bleating cry of His voice was heard from the midst of firstborn male lambs destined for Temple sacrifice. Perhaps one day it would all make sense, but tonight the meaning remained a puzzle to the participants in the drama. The brilliant transitory star that shone as first herald of the birth of the true King of Israel faded and vanished. The sign of two bright planets, which had been dancing within the constellation of Israel for months, was now concealed behind a layer of clouds that closed in over the territory of Ephratha. The chill of a coming snowstorm was in the air. Shepherds stamped their feet and stretched out hands to the watch fires in an effort to stay warm. The rhythm of life in Beth-lehem resumed. There were things to do. Tasks to accomplish. After the birth, Rachel, midwife of Beth-lehem who tended Mary and her child, had called for more water to be drawn from the ancient well of David. It had been heated to bathe the Son of David. But Rachel had not considered God's covenant with King David as she'd washed the film of Mary's blood from the newborn's ruddy skin. The baby had simply been