Miriam (4 page)

Miriam leaned heavily on Eleazar's arm and knelt before Pharaoh's throne. “These are the nightmares that have plagued Ramesses. Every detail. Nothing tempered.”

Head bowed, Miriam felt Shaddai's warm breath across her heart and knew He had come to give her the meaning. The essence of the dreams filled her understanding, and though their message would incense Ramesses, her spirit rested in the truth.

On her left and right, magicians, noblemen, and officials averted their eyes from the throne. Had any of them the courage to speak such truth even if they knew the meanings of the dreams? Doubtful. But none of them had Shaddai on their side.

Miriam heard the king's unsteady breathing and could only guess what violence he would commit when he heard the rest of her message.
El Shaddai, I am Your servant. Be it unto me as You will.

“Stand, Midwife.”

Eleazar lifted her, setting her gently on her feet, and then replaced his arm around her. Her big, strong nephew was trembling. Dear boy.

Pharaoh's eyes narrowed, as if his stare could bore right through her. “If your god showed you my dreams, surely he can interpret their meaning.”

Miriam tried to swallow but her mouth felt as dry as harvest season. She spoke in her gentlest voice. “In both dreams the number ten is significant, and both signify that Egypt's wealth will be ruined. The One God declares that with ten signs of His power He will ruin everything Pharaoh Sety worked to give you. Egypt will crumble before you, Mighty Ramesses.” She sighed, relieved to be finished with the task, and dropped her head, waiting for her death sentence.

The king chuckled. Then laughed until the audience fell into hysteria with him. Only Miriam, Eleazar, and Taliah stood soberly. Perhaps they could hope for dismissal instead of death.

“The Hebrew god destroy Egypt?” Pharaoh's laughter ebbed through tears. “He can't even help pathetic slaves. How will he conquer the fiercest army in the world?”

Eleazar stiffened and answered before Miriam could catch her breath. “The Hebrew God is powerless against you, Great Ramesses. The Hebrews are your servants, committed to Egypt's glory.”

The kohl-painted Eyes of Horus narrowed as Pharaoh examined Eleazar. “You serve Prince Ram, second heir to Egypt's throne. He assures me you can be trusted.” Pharaoh then turned to the gallery of princes. “Join me, Prince Ram, on the dais.”

The well-muscled prince rose from his gilded chair. Only Crown Prince Amenhirkopshef held more power than Prince Ram, but Kopshef—as he was called—was in Saqqara, so Ram commanded Egypt's army and held his father's heart. The prince took his place at Pharaoh's right hand and waited to be addressed.

Pharaoh focused on Eleazar as he spoke. “We must trust those who serve us, my son. Do you still trust this Hebrew to oversee your military slaves?”

Miriam's mouth was as dry as Egypt's dust.
El Shaddai, I'm ready to endure whatever punishment comes to me, but please spare my dear Eleazar.

“I trust him with my life, but I bow to your wisdom, mighty Pharaoh.” Prince Ram's voice held no emotion.

Pharaoh nodded and rubbed his chin. “Very well. The Hebrew commander remains your servant, but I no longer trust the handmaid to care for my son.”

Taliah whimpered, and Miriam stepped forward. “But you said—”

The guard on Taliah's right elbowed Miriam, doubling her over and ceasing her protest. Eleazar pulled Miriam aside, standing between her and the guard. He made no attempt to defend her. Smart boy.

Pharaoh cleared his throat. “You're still alive, Midwife, only because I know the gods have favored your family with long life. My son tells me your parents are well over 110—the age of perfection—and you yourself have lived more than eighty inundations. I dare not anger the gods by snuffing out your life, but I will not tolerate your insolence.” Miriam straightened in the looming silence and found him smiling at her. “I will spare the handmaid as I promised, but her negligence must be punished. She must feel the pain my son felt.”

He motioned Prince Ram closer for a private consult. The prince nodded and addressed Eleazar. “Break her right leg and remove her from the palace. She will live in the Hebrew village at the pleasure of the slave masters.”

The
L
ORD
said to Aaron, “Go into the wilderness to meet Moses.”

—
E
XODUS 4:27

P
haraoh had ordered the next petitioner to approach his throne before Taliah's agonized scream ebbed. She'd fainted when Eleazar lifted her into his arms, making her journey down the long hallway of the palace underground barracks bearable. Eleazar's small chamber was the nearest refuge to tend Taliah's broken leg before carrying her back to the slave village.

“It's that room, Doda.” He nodded to a door on the right, halfway down. Miriam lifted the iron latch and entered. The smell of sweat-soaked leather and dirty feet greeted them. If he'd known Doda and an injured harem maid were coming, he would have asked his apprentice of four years, Hoshea, to tidy the room.

Hoshea's eyes widened at the intrusion. “Eleazar?”

Ignoring the question, Doda took charge. “Hoshea, clear off Eleazar's mat. Eleazar, set Taliah down gently. Easy, now.”

Eleazar lowered the girl, and her eyes fluttered open. He moved away quickly as Doda crouched beside her. Taliah began to stir and then whimpered.

“Shh, it will be better soon,” Doda cooed. “It will hurt for a while, but we'll get herbs at home, and you'll feel better.” She looked over her shoulder at Hoshea. “Come here, boy. I need your help.”

Hoshea and Eleazar shared quarters, and though Hoshea was only eighteen, he'd already learned to tend wounded soldiers on and off the battlefield. But the poor boy had never endured a commander like Doda.

“I'm going to straighten this broken bone,” she said, holding his gaze. “You will lie across Taliah like a blanket to hold her still.” Hoshea's cheeks bloomed red as poppies, but he squeezed his eyes shut and obeyed.

Doda Miriam said over her shoulder to Eleazar, “Get some leather for her to bite down on.”

Eleazar tugged off the leather band securing his long hair at the nape of his neck. He knelt beside the girl's head and placed it gently between her teeth. She bit down hard, screaming through gritted teeth, while Doda straightened the bone.

Eleazar looked away, unable to watch Doda repair the break he'd inflicted. Prince Ram had descended the dais to ensure Pharaoh's order was carried out. He'd whispered to Eleazar, “Get her to the Hebrew village before Abbi changes his mind and kills her.” Even Pharaoh's favored son walked a fine line between loyalty and morality. So Eleazar made the break as swift and clean as possible—one swing with his spear shaft below Taliah's knee.

Doda and Hoshea splinted her leg with Hoshea's broken spear shaft and torn bed linens. Both could easily be replaced.

Taliah's skin was the color of goat's milk, but who could blame her? Eleazar had seen soldiers faint from lesser ordeals. Without permission, his big, callused hand reached out to touch her cheek, but he stopped just in time. What was he doing?

Doda struggled to her feet. “All right, Eleazar. She's ready. You carry her.” Hands on her hips, she tapped her toe and lifted an eyebrow.

He shot to his feet. “Why me? Hoshea can carry her while I gain clearance with the guards through the palace complex and beyond.” It was a lame excuse, but Eleazar couldn't hold Taliah in his arms again. She was like a wounded lamb. And that perfume and soft skin made him dizzy.

Doda Miriam assessed Hoshea and then her nephew. “You're nearly twice the size of your apprentice. He's a fine boy, but Taliah needs strong arms and a steady gait to keep her leg stable.” She lifted both eyebrows and tapped her toe—faster. Why could he never refuse his doda?

With a sigh, he knelt beside the mat and leaned in, but Taliah tried to scoot away.

“Wait!”

An instant sheen of sweat proved the pain of her effort.

Of course, she would be afraid of him. “I won't hurt you, Taliah.” She nodded but wouldn't look up. His chest constricted. “I had to follow orders. Breaking your leg was the only way to save our lives.”

“I understand. It's not that. I…” Her black eyes pooled with vulnerability more frightening than a Hittite's sword. “How did you know my name?”

Mouth suddenly dry, Eleazar tried to swallow but couldn't. His promise to Putiel had seemed so simple when Taliah didn't know. “I…um…”

Doda shoved him aside. “Your family and ours have been friends for as long as I can remember. Your great-saba Mered was the chief linen keeper who taught me to spin and weave as a girl, and your saba Jered—whose son Gedor is Pharaoh's current linen keeper—well, he used to play with my brother Moses when everyone believed Moses was Prince Mehy—”

Eleazar leaned close. “Doda, we must leave before Pharaoh finds her in the palace. You can explain family connections when we get her home.”

“Home?” A tear spilled over Taliah's bottom lash. “The palace harem has been my only home. I've never seen any of you before, and I don't know where you're taking me.” She pressed her palms against her eyes, enforcing a false calm, and then glared at Eleazar. “How does Prince Ram's personal guard know my name?”

Eleazar sighed, cursing his vow and his ignorance of women. But she deserved an explanation. “Your abba Putiel saved my life at the Battle of Kadesh, and I became his apprentice as Prince Ram's personal guard. When Prince Kopshef went to Saqqara, he demanded Putiel become his guard, so I now serve Prince Ram. Your abba asked me to look after you while he's away.”

Taliah dropped her hands, a lovely V forming between her sculpted brows. “That was four years ago. Why have I never seen you before? How could you look after me when you were with Prince Ram and I was in the harem?”

“Before he left, your abba took me to the harem gate and pointed you out. Yours is not a face I could forget.” His cheeks warmed at the inadvertent compliment, and he stared at his hands. “I bribed a eunuch. He keeps me informed.”

When only silence met his confession, he looked up, finding Taliah's expression softened. “Thank you—Eleazar, is it?”

“Yes, well…” He cleared his throat and heard Hoshea snicker. A sharp glance silenced his young apprentice.

“My abba can't write, Eleazar, so I never expected correspondence, but I've had no word from him. Is he well?”

They were wasting time. He needed to get her out of the palace—and he didn't want to answer her question. “Why don't we talk on the way?”

He leaned toward her again, but she shoved him away, panic written on her features. “You know something about Abba. Tell me.”

Spying his leather hair band on the floor, he reached for it with a sigh and pulled back his curly black hair. “I haven't seen Putiel since he left, but I've had no request for his replacement.” Eleazar tried to smile in spite of the sick feeling in his gut. No Hebrew was safe with Prince Kopshef. “It's a hopeful sign. Now, we really must go.”

Nodding, she wiped a tear and raised an arm around his neck, inviting him to lift her. He gently scooped her into his arms, but even the slightest jostle must have been excruciating. Taliah whimpered and buried her face against his chest, sending a terrible sensation through him. Surely, it was only compassion, perhaps regret, but—by the gods—he refused to feel anything else for this woman.

Doda retrieved Eleazar's lamb's wool headrest. “Hoshea, cradle this under Taliah's splinted leg, and I'll open the door.”

Hoshea supported her leg as Eleazar glided into the deserted hallway. He didn't pause as Doda closed the door behind them, but kept his gait steady while trying not to look down at the beautiful woman in his arms. His disciplined training offered a smooth ride for Taliah but failed miserably in keeping his eyes from her.

The realization of her allure burned in his belly when he considered how the slave masters might treat her. Eleazar leaned down so only she could hear. “Keep your face turned toward my chest.” As they neared the end of the dark hallway, he whispered to Doda, “Hide her hair and throw your robe over her while we walk.” The guards and slave drivers might question an injured harem maid leaving the palace, but they wouldn't think twice about a slave girl draped in rough-spun.

The midday sun burned hot by the time they cleared the colossal gates of the palace complex, and the dual statues of Ramesses bade them good-bye. Prince Ram expected Eleazar's return after his meal, but Eleazar couldn't hurry Doda or run with Taliah in his arms. He'd have to take the beating for tardiness.

Taliah peered up from beneath Doda's robe. “Pharaoh said I'd live in the slave village at the pleasure of the slave masters. Does that mean the slave masters will decide whose children I teach? It's all I'm trained to do.”

Her innocence struck him like a blow. Was she really unaware of what the slave masters would do to a lovely maiden like her? “I'm taking you to Doda Miriam's long house. She'll care for you until your leg heals.”

“I can still teach in spite of a broken leg, but I'll need scrolls. Where might I get those?”

Doda must have noted his distress and sidled up to them. “Life in Goshen will be quite different from what you're used to. You'll need to rest for a few weeks while your leg heals, and then I'll introduce you to your family. Mered and Bithiah belonged to the tribe of Judah, and their village is a bit farther west of ours.” Then she patted Eleazar's shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about, dear. If my nephew promised Putiel he'd care for you, then you can be sure he'll provide a safe and happy home.”

An invisible fist drove the wind from Eleazar's chest. A simple promise made four years ago suddenly felt like a life sentence.

They'd just passed the industrial section of Rameses when Eleazar noticed two slave drivers approaching. He leaned close to Taliah and whispered, “Turn away so they don't see your beauty.” He curled her toward his chest, and Taliah cried out at the sudden shift in position. Eleazar shouted, “Shut up, girl, or I'll break your other leg.”

The slave drivers laughed and nodded as they passed, satisfied that Eleazar was an overseer sufficiently abusive to his own people.

“There's no need to act like a barbarian just because they've trained you to fight like one.” Taliah's sudden venom startled them all.

Eleazar considered dropping her in the dust. Doda drew a breath to speak but shook her head and kept walking. Hoshea's eyes were the size of ostrich eggs, but he dutifully held the lamb's wool under the girl's splinted leg.

Taliah seemed ready for a fight, but silence had served Eleazar well for forty-seven inundations. He ignored her, which seemed to cause her greater discomfort than her broken leg.

“If my abba had learned a trade, or even worked the mud pits, he wouldn't have left us when Ima died.”

Eleazar stared down at her and lifted a single brow. He refused to acknowledge the untested opinions of one who had been sheltered in the palace all her life.

Doda, however, stroked Taliah's forehead as they walked, drawing the girl's attention. “I was there when your ima died giving birth to your little sister, dear, and your abba moved heaven and earth to secure a safe place for you to serve in the harem. I was the one entrusted to deliver you to the palace that day.”

“You?” Taliah twisted in Eleazar's arms to search Doda's face. The little band halted on the road, while Taliah's fingers traced the wrinkles on Doda's forehead and cheeks. A tear slipped from the girl's eye. “I remember. Yes.”

Doda trapped the girl's hand against her cheek. “You were very young, and we only met a few times. Your abba chose the best life for you, and El Shaddai has protected you all these years.”

Taliah pulled her hand away. “I protect myself. Those who wait on men or gods to help are always disappointed.” Doda winced as if she'd been slapped. If Putiel were here, Eleazar would suggest a good spanking for his daughter.

“Let's get home.” Eleazar resumed their walk, nodding toward the Hebrew village now in sight. When they rounded the corner of the first row of long houses, they saw Abba Aaron waiting outside Miriam's doorway. Gasping, Eleazar nearly broke into a run even with the fragile girl in his arms. “Are Saba and Savta well?”

Hoshea lunged to keep up.

Taliah cried out, “You big ox! My leg!” But Eleazar was focused on his abba's drawn features.

“I must speak with you inside, Miriam.”

He offered no answer to Eleazar. Not even a
Shalom.
Eleazar should be accustomed to Abba's disregard by now. The absence of mourners implied Saba and Savta were still alive. He would concentrate on that and be thankful for Doda, Saba, and Savta—and expect nothing from his parents or two older brothers.

Abba Aaron held the curtain aside for Doda Miriam and then barged in after her. Eleazar stood at the covered doorway with Taliah and Hoshea. Doda Miriam returned to pull aside the curtain, her eyes communicating an apology that wasn't hers to give. Eleazar ducked through the door sideways while Hoshea continued supporting Taliah's leg with the lamb's wool.

“Miriam, did you hear me?” Abba Aaron shouted. “I've had a dream.”

Doda tugged at Eleazar's arm. “You can lay her on my mat. I'll get reeds from the river to weave another mat later today.”

“Miriam, I must leave immediately—”

“Calm down, Aaron.” Doda shuffled baskets and emerged with mortar and pestle and a few poppy seeds. “I'll listen after I ease Taliah's pain.”

“You'll listen now!” he shouted, halting everyone where they stood. Eleazar had never heard Abba raise his voice—only Ima Elisheba shouted orders in their family.

“What is so urgent, Aaron?” Doda Miriam set aside the mortar and pestle and folded her hands, annoyed.

“El Shaddai spoke to me in a dream, Miriam—as He speaks to you. I'm to find our brother in Midian and bring him back to Egypt.”