Miriam (20 page)

But on that day I will deal differently with the land of Goshen, where my people live; no swarms of flies will be there, so that you will know that I, the
L
ORD
, am in this land. I will make a distinction between my people and your people. This sign will occur tomorrow.

—
E
XODUS 8:22–23

E
leazar left the palace complex as the sun began its descent behind the western hills. He should have stayed. Prince Ram had become even more dependent on him since the plagues began, finding solace in a Hebrew guard amid the Hebrew god's judgment. Eleazar chuckled as he jogged. Poor Ram had no idea Eleazar and Yahweh weren't exactly friendly.

The industrial section of Rameses behind him, Eleazar slowed his pace. He was in no hurry to reach Goshen. Would Taliah be pleased he'd honored his promise and come home this evening? Or would she stare at him with those deeply wounded eyes and make more cutting remarks? Why couldn't she understand that these were unusual times, special circumstances? The frogs came days after Saba and Savta died, then the biting midges. Eleazar was a military soldier, personal guard to Prince Ram. If she wanted a brick maker who would be home every night, she should have considered that before—

Eleazar couldn't even complete the thought. He knew he was making excuses. He could have been home more. Ram had even told him to go home to his ailing grandparents, but he'd stayed at the barracks because Taliah wanted words. She wanted Eleazar to talk, to share his feelings, to recount his day, when all he wanted to do when he arrived in Goshen was forget.

The long house was in sight. He slowed his pace to a walk, sighed, and kicked a rock, sending it skittering into the crusty remains of a shrinking frog pile. Instinctively, he scratched his hand and then looked down where the midge bites had been.

“Will you really plague only the city?” he whispered to the God he refused to acknowledge.

Moses and Abba Aaron had interrupted Pharaoh's morning bath at the river to proclaim tomorrow's plague—flies, biting flies. Ramesses had cancelled all court activity to meet with his officials and magicians. Maybe Taliah expected him to talk about these things as well. She loved to debate, but Eleazar wasn't a teacher or philosopher. He was a soldier, a man of few words, and he wasn't about to betray Prince Ram to entertain his wife.

Besides, Moses sat at their evening table. How could he discuss the details of Egyptian argument at court? Once Moses had announced that the plague would begin
tomorrow,
he left and the debates began. Kopshef suggested
tomorrow
was an omen. A punishment from the Hebrew god because Pharaoh had been too proud to plead for relief from the frogs immediately. Ramesses's fury had equaled the desert sandstorms, so Jannes and Jambres proposed an alternative for the fourth plague's delay. Perhaps the Hebrew god was taunting Egypt's gods, giving the magicians a chance to match power against power. This glimmer of hope soothed Pharaoh and gave Kopshef and his conjurers a full day to fend off the swarm of flies Moses had promised.

Eleazar was a Hebrew. He loved Doda and Taliah—and Moses. But to reveal the inner workings of the palace still felt like a betrayal.

He rounded the corner of the long house and approached Doda's doorway. Light glowed around the curtain, but the family banter was displaced by an eerie quiet. He peered through the curtain and found four people seated around the reed mat, eating in complete silence. Something was very wrong.

Taliah leapt from her spot and hurried over to greet him. She stretched up on her toes and whispered, “Miriam and Hur had some sort of quarrel, but no one knows what it was about.” She cleared her throat, resumed a normal voice, and led him to the mat. “One of the elders killed a goose and shared it with us, so we're eating like kings tonight.”

“I see, and it looks like we have enough to feed the neighbors.” Eleazar dropped his small bundle of rations and sat directly across from Moses who nodded toward Miriam and shrugged an
I-don't-know-what-happened
look. Miriam and Hur kept their heads bowed. Eleazar clapped his hands loudly, startling everyone. “I'm starving. That goose looks delicious.” Taliah piled up his plate with the juicy, dark meat covered in leeks and onions and then ladled on a honeyed-yogurt sauce that rivaled palace cuisine.

Finding himself the leading conversationalist, Eleazar stepped out into uncharted waters. “So, Moses, I wasn't there for your announcement. Tell us about tomorrow's plague.”

“There's another plague?” Miriam looked up for the first time, betrayal written on her features. “Why didn't you tell me?”

Moses tilted his head and answered softly. “I didn't want to add more tension to the evening.”

“Perhaps I should go.” Hur rolled to his knees, struggling to stand.

Moses stopped him and shot a glare at Miriam. She closed her eyes and let out a huff. “You're not leaving, Hur. I'm sorry. I'm acting like a child. Moses, tell us about the plague.” She kept her head down and began shoveling goose into her mouth as if it were the first meal she'd had in years.

Hur sat down and smiled sheepishly. Eleazar felt sorry for him. Hur wasn't even married to Doda and he was in trouble.

“Yahweh is sending a swarm of flies tomorrow,” Moses began, “but this time He's making a distinction between Egypt and Israel. The flies will swarm only the city of Rameses but will leave Goshen untouched.”

Doda Miriam shoved her plate away. “Yahweh will make a distinction.” Her eyes sparked, her voice crackling with anger. “He's good at choosing favorites.” She struggled to her feet, and when Hur tried to help, she cried, “Stop! I can do it,” and left the house with Sattar trailing behind her.

All eyes turned to Hur for an explanation. “She'll be all right. Every great love goes through the fire. She and Yahweh will work this out.” He used his walking stick to help him stand. “Thank you, Taliah, for a wonderful meal. This household has shown me such warm hospitality, but if Miriam wants me to leave, I should go. I'll speak with her about it as soon as possible.” He excused himself and disappeared into the room he and Moses shared.

Eleazar and Taliah sat with Moses in uncomfortable silence. Both Moses and Taliah had eaten most of their meal, and Eleazar felt a rush of guilt. He was late for the meal. He'd come, but he was late—again. Dragging both hands down his weary face, Eleazar felt Hur's words like a cudgel to the gut.
I'll speak with her about it as soon as possible.
If Hur was willing to talk to Doda—a woman who was merely his friend—perhaps Eleazar should make more effort to talk to his wife.

He brushed Taliah's arm. “May I speak with you on the roof?”

Startled, she flinched, and then her cheeks instantly pinked. “I should clean up—”

“No, no. I can do it.” Moses began gathering dishes and waving the couple toward the ladder. He stole Taliah's plate from her hand. “You cleaned while you cooked. There's hardly anything to do. Go on. Go on.” He forced a yawn—badly. “It's well past dark. Time for bed, you two.”

Eleazar climbed the ladder to escape the awkwardness. He shoved aside the rooftop cover, stepped off the ladder, and assessed their deserted hideaway. The palm branches needed straightening on their three-sided shelter, and the sleeping mat had been skewed by the wind. He grieved what was lost between them and what had never been built.

Taliah stepped close behind him, laid her head against his back, and circled her arms around his middle. “Will you stay with me tonight?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Ram would need him when the swarm of flies came tomorrow. Eleazar turned toward his wife and tilted her chin to see her deep, dark eyes. “I want to stay. Do you believe me? I want to stay every night.”

Tears pooled on her lashes. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

No shouting. No accusations.

His wife needed him too. Bending to kiss her, Eleazar stopped just before their lips met. “I will stay, Taliah, because I love you.”

The moon and stars witnessed the purest love Eleazar had ever known. Surely, this was the meaning of the ancient wedding blessing,
one flesh.
Long into the night, he and Taliah shared the intimacies known only to husband and wife. Love. Desire. Passion. And finally, the complete rest of a satisfied soul.

Eleazar's next conscious thought was an annoying buzz that wouldn't be stilled, a vibration that stirred the breeze. Taliah must have woken at the same time. She grabbed his hand but didn't move. A whirling black cloud moved over Goshen, blocking the fading stars and moonlight. Eleazar dared not sit up for fear he'd disturb the thick swarm of flies above them. He turned onto his stomach and crawled to the edge of the roof, Taliah by his side, and they stared in disbelief as the swarm descended on the city of Rameses. Beginning in the industrial section and peeling off into the armory, the palace complex, and the noblemen's homes. Every part of the city grew black and pulsated with a thick layer of the buzzing insects—and the sky over Goshen became clear.

“I must go.” He jumped up, grabbed his armor, and hurried to the ladder.

“Eleazar.” Her voice stopped him. “I love you too.”

A ferocious yearning swept over him. She loved him. “I'll be home again as soon as I can.” He cursed each step that took him away from his beautiful wife.

Then Pharaoh summoned Moses and Aaron and said, “Go, sacrifice to your God here in the land.”

—
E
XODUS 8:25

M
oses and Doda waited at the bottom of the ladder with four empty grain sacks. Before Eleazar could question their purpose, Moses began wrapping the sacks around Eleazar's arms and legs. “If these are the stable flies I remember from my days here at Avaris, they're blood feeders and you'll need this protection.”

Eleazar didn't argue though he looked like a fool with sackcloth wrapped like wings around his limbs. “I'll send Hoshea with word if Pharaoh relents and decides to release us.”

Moses finished tying the last sack to his leg and rose to meet his gaze. “I'll see you in a little while.”

The certainty on his uncle's expression told Eleazar he'd already heard from Yahweh. The soberness told him this would not be the last battle with Ramesses. Eleazar kissed Doda's cheek and began his brisk jog toward the city. He reached the edge of the industrial section and waved off the first fly. He'd jogged ten camel lengths, and his face was on fire. A few more strides and the pests started biting through the sackcloth.

He ran to the throne hall first, but it was empty—not even a guard at the ebony doors. The sounds of shrieks and cries of pain grew louder as he checked one empty audience chamber after another. Eleazar decided to find Hoshea in their underground military barracks. Perhaps he'd know where Prince Ram and Pharaoh were meeting.

The swarms of flies lessened as Eleazar descended the ramp to the Hebrew barracks. He stepped over Hoshea's morning rations and pounded at the door of the chamber they shared. Hoshea turned the iron latch and swung open the door, looking at Eleazar as if he had two heads. “What's wrong?” He appraised Eleazar's winged arms and legs and then slapped at a fly on his neck.

Eleazar rushed inside and closed the door behind them, astonished that not a single fly entered the chamber with him.

“I was just ready to open my door and collect my rations when I heard your knock.” Hoshea helped Eleazar remove the sackcloth. They found welts the size of grapes on his arms and legs.

Eleazar could only imagine what his face looked like. He collapsed on Hoshea's sleeping mat. “We have to find Ram. No one is in the throne hall.”

Hoshea swallowed hard, staring at Eleazar's wounds. “Are you sure that's a good idea? It appears the distinction Moses prophesied is all about location, not the person. As long as we're in the Hebrew section of the palace or in Goshen, we're safe.”

“We're soldiers, Hoshea. We serve our commanders. I serve Prince Ram, and you serve me, live or die.” Eleazar saw a shadow of doubt cross his young apprentice's face, and it startled him. Hoshea had never shown fear. His honor and courage had been faultless.

The boy extended his arm to help Eleazar stand, but he held Eleazar's gaze. “If I ever have to choose between obeying you or Yahweh, I will choose Yahweh, Commander.”

Eleazar released his arm and felt a sting of betrayal. “At least we know where your loyalty lies. Will Yahweh allow you to look for Prince Ram?” He could see his sarcasm wounded Hoshea, and he regretted it immediately.

The boy offered kindness in return. “Of course, I'll help you find the prince.” He reached for the sackcloth to retie them, but Eleazar stopped him.

“It doesn't help.” He squeezed the boy's shoulder. “My comment was uncalled for. I'm sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I'm going to be in a few moments.” Hoshea grinned and cringed as he reached for the door.

Eleazar chuckled with him and wondered why he couldn't talk with Taliah so easily.

They began their search in the residential wing, swatting flies and crying out in pain as they tried to ignore the overwhelming wails of women and children. But Eleazar and Hoshea found Prince Ram by following the sounds of quarreling. He, Prince Kopshef, and Pharaoh were sealed in an alcove three doors down from Prince Ram's private chamber. They'd stuffed cloth beneath the door, presumably keeping flies out, but it did nothing to muffle their sharp disagreement on how to stop Egypt's decline.

Eleazar recognized Prince Ram's voice first. “Kill Moses and Aaron! If they can't announce the plagues, the plagues won't happen.” Should Eleazar knock on the door or run back to Goshen and warn Abba and Moses?

“You imbecile!” Kopshef screamed. “It's not Moses and Aaron that overpower Egypt's gods. It's their Yahweh. Who's going to kill him when we can't even match his tricks?”

Eleazar pounded on the door and heard Pharaoh bark, “What?”

“It's Eleazar, my king. How may I serve you?”

“I've already sent my chariot to Goshen to collect Moses and Aaron. Make sure they find us.”

Hoshea slapped a fly from his neck and shrugged, glancing around the deserted palace hallway. “We might as well get comfortable,” he said, sliding down the wall and landing in a heap.

Eleazar stood, arms crossed over his chest, assessing the eerie sight. The morning sun streamed in the long, narrow windows showing dust dancing on marble tiles, intricately carved pillars, and luxurious tapestries. That same dust had become biting gnats weeks ago, bringing pain and destruction to the three most powerful men in the world—men now huddled in a locked room hiding from…flies. Couldn't a God who turned the Nile to blood, turned dust to gnats, and caused flies to swarm on a single city free the Israelites in a single day? Eleazar grinned. Yahweh was indeed teaching both the Egyptians and the Israelites many things about Himself in these days of plagues and patience.

With the thoughts still rumbling in his head, Eleazar noted four silhouettes at the far end of the hallway. Flies swarmed all around the two Egyptian guards, but none landed on Abba or Moses. Eleazar pointed to the sight. “So much for our theory of God's distinction being geographical, not personal.”

Hoshea's face lit with wonder. “We're discovering Yahweh can do most anything.” They waited impatiently for the two elders to arrive. When Hoshea could wait no longer, he shouted, “Has a single fly landed on you?”

But Moses was sober, his countenance more melancholy than triumphant. “No, but we've seen much suffering on our way here.” He pointed to the closed door. “Is Ramesses in there?” Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door. No knock. No warning. He simply barged through the door Pharaoh had barricaded shut and closed it behind him. The Egyptian guards were as stunned as Eleazar and shoved him aside to press their ears against the door.

There was no need. Everyone in the city could hear Pharaoh shout. “Go, Moses! You may sacrifice to your god in our land.”

“Not good enough.” Moses's reply was calm but commanding, also easily heard. “Our sacrifices are detestable in the eyes of Egyptians. We might be stoned while we worship if we remain here. No. We must be allowed a three-day journey into the wilderness to sacrifice as Yahweh commands.”

“Aahh!” Pharaoh growled, and Eleazar heard increased swatting and more groaning. “All right! You may sacrifice in the wilderness, but don't go far. Now pray for me!”

The Egyptian guards exchanged a stunned glance, as did Hoshea and Eleazar. Pharaoh, deified Son of Horus, asked for a blessing from a slave's god.

“As soon as I leave the city, I will pray to Yahweh, and
tomorrow,
” Moses emphasized, “the flies will leave Pharaoh, his officials, and his people. But be sure you don't deal deceitfully again with Yahweh's people, Ramesses.”

The door swung open, and the leaning Egyptian guards nearly fell into the room. Moses stepped back, allowing them to regain their balance—and their composure.

“Wait!” Pharaoh pointed his flail at Moses. “I will not wait for tomorrow. Tell your god the flies must leave today.”

Moses grinned. “Yahweh gave you one chance to choose the time of your deliverance—with the frogs—and you were too proud to ask urgently. The flies leave tomorrow.” He slammed the door closed behind him.

Eleazar glimpsed Prince Ram before the door closed, his welted face mottled with rage. Was he angry with Moses? Or maybe Kopshef or Ramesses? Or had he summoned Eleazar this morning and found him absent?

Moses stepped within a handbreadth of Eleazar's face. “Now that Yahweh has made a distinction between Goshen and Egypt, you would do well to do the same, son.” He motioned to Abba Aaron. “Come, let's return home. We've done all Yahweh requires of us here.”

As they lumbered down the long hallway in silence, Eleazar felt torn. Should he escort them back to Goshen or remain outside this door in case Prince Ram emerged? Hoshea squashed a few flies under his sandal, glancing up at his mentor for direction.

“Escort Abba and Moses back to Goshen. Tell Doda and Taliah I'm staying at the palace until the flies are resolved.”

Hoshea drew a breath to comment, but thought better of it. “As you wish, sir.” He hurried to catch up with the elder Hebrews, and Eleazar watched them go, fearing he'd made the wrong choice.