Miriam (25 page)

Eleazar opened the heavy door. The princes were seated in their gallery and all Pharaoh's officials lined both sides of the crimson carpet. Prince Kopshef stood at Pharaoh's right hand, Prince Ram at his left.

As the Hebrews began their first steps onto the carpet, Pharaoh raised his voice. “This time I have sinned, Moses.” He paused until the four men reached the edge of the tapestry and stood directly before the throne. Then Pharaoh held out his hands in contrition. “The Lord is in the right, and I and my people are in the wrong. Pray to the Lord, for we have had enough thunder and hail.”

Moses's expression remained placid. “What about Yahweh's command to let His people leave Egypt?”

“I will let you go,” Ramesses said too quickly. “You don't have to stay any longer.”

Prince Kopshef descended the dais and met Moses face to face. “My father asks you to pray. He has agreed to your demand.” He rested his hand on his short sword. “Pray, Hebrew.”

Eleazar glimpsed a slight grin on Prince Ram's face and felt dread twist in his belly. He reached behind Moses and squeezed his waist, hoping he'd realize something was desperately wrong.

Moses politely but confidently stepped around Prince Kopshef and addressed Pharaoh. “When I have gone out of the city, I will pray to Yahweh. He will stop the thunder and hail so you may know the whole earth obeys our Hebrew God.” He stepped back and met Kopshef's sneer. “I know that you and your officials still don't fear my God, but you should. This plague only destroyed Egypt's flax and barley. Since wheat and spelt ripen later, there's still time for you to release my people before Egypt is completely ruined.”

“Get out.” Kopshef ground out the words between clenched teeth and then shouted, “Guards!” Abba Aaron jumped as if he'd been bitten by a viper, but Moses stood like granite as the crown prince announced their fate. “Escort Eleazar to the king's prison. His apprentice will escort Moses and his brother to the edge of the city to pray.” He turned to Hoshea. “Make sure the hail stops before you release them, or you'll share a cell with your trainer.”

Those officials of Pharaoh who feared the word of the
L
ORD
hurried to bring their slaves and their livestock inside. But those who ignored the word of the
L
ORD
left their slaves and livestock in the field.

—
E
XODUS 9:20–21

M
iriam, Hur, and Taliah stood among the crowd at the eastern edge of Goshen, watching the hail continue to pummel the city as dawn turned into day. Clouds shrouded the sun, making it impossible to judge how long since Eleazar and Hoshea had taken Moses and Aaron to the palace, and the storm raged on, building rather than declining in strength. Tortured cries competed with sounds of thunder, while field slaves, forced by their Egyptian masters, ran into the pelting hail to herd cattle, goats, and sheep into shelters. But it was too late. Miriam wondered why the Egyptians hadn't sheltered them yesterday when Moses warned them. Why must more Hebrew slaves die because they lived in the city with their masters?
Why, Yahweh?

Miriam tried not to question as the devastation mounted. She should be thankful, standing in the safety of Goshen's protective boundaries, but what about the bodies of dead slaves and animals strewn over the fields, battered and covered by the giant balls of ice? Sheets of rain swept across fields of barley and flax in bloom. Would the dikes hold, or would the Nile overflow its banks? How completely would Yahweh protect them? Just to the border of Goshen? Or would His protection travel with them when they were set free?

Hur's arm slipped around her waist as he pointed toward the city with his other arm. “They're coming. See?” Each flash of lightning illuminated an unnatural bubble of calm moving through the swirling rain and hail.

“Moses!” someone yelled. “Here come Moses and Aaron!”

Miriam nudged her way to the front of the crowd and saw Hoshea leading her two brothers home.

“Eleazar.” Taliah stood at her right shoulder. “Why isn't he with them?”

Miriam reached for her hand and waited in silence until the three men reached Goshen. Elisheba was there to greet Aaron. Even Nadab and Abihu embraced their abba when he stepped over the threshold of Goshen's safe haven.

Moses's countenance was more troubled on his return than when he'd left, and Miriam's heart sank. “What is it? What's wrong?”

“Prince Kopshef ordered Eleazar to Pharaoh's prison.”

“No!” Taliah stifled a cry.

Moses immediately closed his eyes and lifted his hands to Yahweh. No words spoken, only Moses's silent tears petitioned Yahweh for reprieve. In the blink of an eye, the thunder and hail stopped, and the rain no longer poured down on the land. A collective gasp brought Moses's hands down.

With tears still wet on his cheeks, Moses turned to Hoshea. “I don't know what Kopshef will do to you if you return to the palace. You could stay here in Goshen…”

The young apprentice stood tall and lifted his chin. “How could I tell Eleazar to trust Yahweh and return to Goshen if I can't trust Yahweh and return to the palace?” Hoshea met each one's eyes—Moses, Hur, Miriam, and finally, Taliah. “I'll find out what's happened to Eleazar and bring back word.” He turned and ran toward the ruins of what was once the world's richest kingdom.

Without barley, how could Egyptians make beer and bread to feed themselves? Without flax, how could they make linen to clothe the nations? Food and commerce destroyed in one short morning—and all of this, Yahweh said, was only the beginning of the full force of His plagues.

Miriam squeezed Taliah's hand and smiled, trying to instill courage she didn't feel.
Please, Yahweh, use some of Your power to protect our Eleazar.

Eleazar waited for the next sting of the whip.
Snap!
He sucked in a breath but refused to cry out. How many lashes had there been? He'd lost count at twenty-four.

“You told Moses we planned to kill him, didn't you?” Ram leaned in close, his breath smelling of leeks and garlic.

“Yes.” How many times must Eleazar confess?

“You told him we'd kill him in the throne hall as soon as he prayed for the hail to stop, didn't you?”

“No.” They'd been over this. Before the beating started.

Eleazar had told Moses they planned to kill him if the hail didn't come, but he hadn't known they planned to kill him in the throne hall if he prayed immediately and stopped the hail. What idiot decided on that strategy?

Another lash. Had he spoken his thoughts aloud?

“You're lying, Hebrew.” Kopshef shouted from behind him and brought the whip down again. “Why did Moses insist on waiting to pray in Goshen unless you warned him of our plans?”

Eleazar's tongue felt swollen, his lips cut and bleeding. “He thinks strategies…like a soldier…”

“You belligerent…” Kopshef's voice drew near. “I know how a soldier thinks.” Ram stepped between them, warding off further abuse.

He could hear the brothers struggling, fighting, but Eleazar couldn't see them. His arms were bound above his head, forcing his eyes forward. He'd seen only the dirty, torchlit walls of this cell for most of the day, perhaps into the night. Time was irrelevant in Pharaoh's prison. Would he ever leave, or had he seen Taliah for the last time?

Eleazar heard a
crack!
and then a hard thud. Someone had landed on the floor. “Sit there until you can think like the soldier you claim to be rather than the worthless high priest of Ptah!” Ram said, standing behind Eleazar, his heavy, uneven breaths testimony to Kopshef's improved fighting skills. “I don't know why Father listened to you and changed his mind anyway. It's ridiculous to kill Moses when it's the Hebrew god that's destroying us. We should be working toward a solution instead of angering this god further.”

The other guards stood like statues; none offered comment or aid to the quarrelsome princes. A scraping sound on the dust signaled Kopshef's rise to his feet. “All right, Brother, what do you suggest? Invite Moses to banquet at Pharaoh's table?”

Ram suddenly appeared with a cup of water and held it to Eleazar's lips. Drinking deeply, Eleazar let the cool liquid bathe his aching body, inside and out.

“Don't drink too quickly.” Ram set aside the cup and motioned for two guards' assistance as he untied Eleazar's hands and helped him sit on the packed-dirt floor. He grabbed Kopshef's whip, coiled the thinly braided papyrus in his hand, and tilted Eleazar's chin with the handle. “I believe you, Eleazar. I don't think you knew we planned to kill your uncle in the throne hall, but I'm offended that you warned him about our plan if the hail didn't come. That's a breach in loyalty, my Hebrew friend.”

“Does it help that I didn't tell him until after the hail came?”

Kopshef kicked his left side, and Eleazar felt a rib snap. Spots danced before his eyes as he clung to consciousness.

Ram shoved his brother away. “What matters is finding the Hebrew god's weakness.” He glared at Kopshef. “You said every god has limitations, so Eleazar must help us find Yahweh's.”

Consistency certainly seemed a weakness. Why had Yahweh protected him from the killing hail to let him be beaten to death in prison? What was the point?

“So you'll be our eyes and ears in the villages,” Ram was saying. He looked at Eleazar with raised brows, waiting for an answer.

Mind cloudy from blood loss, dehydration, and pain, Eleazar could only stare.

Kopshef came at him again, but Ram held him back and nodded at one of the guards. The man signaled someone behind Eleazar. The sounds of doors opening and closing preceded scuffling feet—and then Hoshea stood before him, bound and looking terrified.

Eleazar, suddenly alert, focused on Ram. “What do you want?”

“You will continue your duties as my personal guard during the day, but you will return to Goshen each night, living with your uncle and gleaning information about his god. Your apprentice will serve me while you're in Goshen. Each morning, you'll report on your findings. If your reports displease me, your apprentice will suffer for your incompetence.”

Hoshea met Eleazar's gaze, courage replacing his fear. The boy had made it clear through both word and action that he would die for Yahweh—but he need not suffer for Eleazar.

Struggling to his feet, Eleazar stepped toward Ram and drew the restraint of two guards. “I will learn about the Hebrew God, but you need not harm the boy.”

Ram leaned forward, spitting the words at his guard. “I've given you this assignment before with no results.” He looked over his shoulder, signaling Kopshef, who buried his fist in Hoshea's belly. “This time, you
will
find Yahweh's weakness and report back to me.”

Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know.

—
J
OB 42:3

M
iriam, Moses, and Hur sat around their small mat for the evening meal and shoved morsels of food around their wooden plates. No one was hungry. Earlier in the day, when the slave drivers raided their village for Hebrews to replace the house slaves killed in the storm, they'd hidden Taliah on the roof. Women had been taken from their children, screaming, to live and serve in Egyptian households—never to return to Goshen. Men, too, were taken, but most husbands were allowed to return home in the evenings. Masters used only women to warm their beds.

“When did Taliah eat last?” Hur broke the long silence.

Miriam tried to recall. “I think we ate a little something after Eleazar and Hoshea left with Moses.”

“Should I go get her?” Moses asked. “Or maybe take up some cucumber and melon? They may sweep for more replacements tomorrow. Taliah should stay on the roof for a few days.”

The sound of heavy footsteps outside their doorway silenced them all. A burly Egyptian guard slapped the curtain aside and entered, inspecting the interior. His eyes landed on Moses. “Do you live here?”

The few dates Miriam had eaten felt as though they might reappear. She swallowed hard, exchanging a terrified glance with Hur.

Moses stood, meeting the guard eye to eye. “I live here.”

“Your nephew will live with you from now on.”

A second guard, a large Nubian who matched Eleazar's size and wore the royal guards' dress armor, helped Eleazar through the doorway. Lowering Eleazar gently to his knees, the Nubian turned his attention to Miriam. “His ribs are broken on the left side. Wrap his chest tightly, and then don't try to move him tonight.”

Eleazar lay facedown, struggling to breathe, his fingers digging into the dirt. Miriam met the Nubian's gaze, surprised to see caring eyes and a compassionate nod. “Thank you,” she whispered, not wanting to draw attention to the man's kindness.

The first guard threw Eleazar's breast piece and arm bands at him, all of which landed on his wounded back. Eleazar cried out, and the guard smirked. “He'll need to be in full-dress armor when he reports to the throne hall for duty in the morning.” Both guards disappeared through the doorway into the night without a backward glance.

Moses pulled the curtain closed after making sure they were gone, while Hur and Miriam hurried to collect the needed supplies. Whipping wounds covered Eleazar's back from his neck to his ankles, but it was his wheezing and labored breathing that was most concerning.

“We must get you on your knees, my boy,” she said through tears. “Can you—”

Without further coaxing, her brave soldier began the arduous process of pressing his bulk up to his hands and knees. Hur helped, but if Moses was nearby, she didn't see him.

Miriam looked behind her and found him standing over them, trembling with rage. “Which one did this, Ram or Kopshef?”

Eleazar drew a wheezing breath. “I've been ordered to live with you as a spy”—he drew another breath—“to find Yahweh's weakness and report it to Ram.” He coughed and cried out, holding his left side. “Or they'll do this, or worse, to Hoshea.”

“Adonai, help us.” Hur prayed quietly as he slopped honey on the bandages for Eleazar's wounds.

Moses knelt beside his nephew, teeth clenched in barely controlled rage. “Yahweh has no weaknesses, but He most certainly will not let them kill Hoshea.”

Eleazar shook his head doubtfully, as if words were too costly.

“Are you sure, Moses? Don't say it if you're not certain.” Miriam's hands shook on the bandages she began winding around Eleazar's torso. Hur took the bandages from her as Moses pulled her into a tight embrace. Helpless to withstand the men's tenderness, Miriam released the sobs she'd held captive all day. “How can we know when Yahweh will protect us and when He'll welcome tragedy into our house? Why did He protect Eleazar from the hail and then allow this?”

Hur finished wrapping Eleazar's ribs while Moses held Miriam. How foolish she felt. The prophetess of Israel, weeping like a spoiled child in her brother's arms.

Moses laid his cheek atop her head and waited to speak until her emotions calmed. “Our trust in Yahweh grows like trust in any other. The better we know Him, the more we can trust Him. But because He is a Being beyond our knowing, His ways will always be beyond our understanding. That's where trust and faith divide.” He kissed her head and tilted her chin to capture her gaze. “Even when I can't trust Him, I can have faith in the fathomless God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, whose power and promise work for the
eternal
good of His people.”

Eleazar lifted an eyebrow in challenge. “This beating did not feel like Yahweh was working for my good.”

“You're home, aren't you?” Moses grinned. “And I said ‘eternal good,' Eleazar. Yahweh is more interested in you knowing Him than pleasing yourself—or even pleasing others.” He released Miriam and scooted close to his nephew. “Have you even considered what Yahweh has done for you, boy?”

“He let Kopshef nearly kill me!” Eleazar grabbed his side, the shout punishing.

“What if Yahweh used this beating to send you back to Goshen so you could be a husband and father again?”

Moses's words gained Eleazar's attention. His eyes narrowed as he pondered the possibility.

“Perhaps Ram's command to discover Yahweh's weakness will be the key that unlocks Yahweh's power for you.”

The roof cap scraped before Eleazar could respond, and Taliah peered through the opening, gasping when she saw him. She began a hurried climb down the ladder. “What happened?” she asked, nudging Moses aside to kneel in front of her husband.

Eleazar, still on hands and knees, spoke just above a whisper. “I've come home, wife. I won't ever leave you again.”

Hur reached for Eleazar's right arm. “Let's get you settled on your stomach so we can treat the rest of your wounds.” Moses hurried to support his left side as the gentle giant lay facedown on Miriam's sleeping mat.

Taliah stood aside, waiting, watching, seemingly hesitant to draw near to her husband.

Eleazar noticed too. “Aren't you pleased I've come home?” His voice was small, like a child's.

“Why did you really come home, Eleazar?”

Miriam exchanged a glance with Hur. The truth would sound worse than a lie, but he couldn't deceive her.

Eleazar released a shuddering sigh while Miriam and Hur began treating the open wounds on his legs. “Prince Ram sent me back to Goshen to live with Moses so I could discover how to stop the plagues. I'm to report my findings every morning, and if what I've discovered doesn't please Ram, they'll do this to Hoshea.”

Taliah stood behind Miriam, so she couldn't see the girl's face. The silence was almost as excruciating as Eleazar's pain. He gripped the sleeping mat and sucked in air as they poured turmeric powder and honey directly into the wounds. Still Taliah remained quiet, unmoving. What was she thinking?

“All done with the herbs, boy.” Miriam pressed a calming hand to his head, the only place without a whipping wound. “Now the bandages.”

He propped his chin on his fist and turned toward his wife. “Why were you on the roof when the guards brought me home?”

She sniffed. “Miriam hid me because the slave drivers came looking for young Hebrew women today.”

Eleazar's chin trembled as he turned to Moses. “I suppose you'd attribute that to Yahweh's protection.”

Moses grinned. “I no longer believe in coincidence.”

“It's good to know I'm not the only one struggling to believe in Yahweh's protection.” Eleazar looked up at Miriam. “Taliah should remain on the roof for a while, day and night—”

“But I've got classes to tea—”

Moses lifted his hand to silence her. “Eleazar is right. We don't know how long they'll be looking for replacement slaves for the city.”

Eleazar buried his face in his hands. “When my wounds are healed, I'll sleep in the adjoining room with Moses and Hur.”

Everyone waited in silence for Taliah to object. She didn't. Instead, she walked to the ladder, climbed it, and closed the roof cap without a word.