No Woman So Fair (29 page)

Menhades said quickly, “If the pharaoh dies, the country will be lost. There is so much trouble now. Could this be a poison that an enemy has inflicted on us?”

“Not a
physical
enemy, sir.”

Menhades stared at the physician. “Are you telling me that it is one of the gods that has done this?”

Ahotep feared the high priest, who had great power. “I think the gods are angry, but I cannot tell why. It is you who must find the answer, O High Priest, not a poor physician.”

Menhades stared at Ahotep, speechless. He questioned him long and hard about the remedies and about sicknesses, but Ahotep stuck to his story. The physician finally said in a trembling voice, “It is not a natural sickness. It came too quickly and it struck only a select few, only those in the high court. How could it be anything else, O Menhades?”

Menhades suddenly had a thought. “If I were you, I would keep out of sight for a few days. You know how Pharaoh is. He could have your head chopped off in a moment if the thought struck him.”

“I will go to Thebes. Send for me when—”

“I will send for you when he is cured—or when he is dead. Those are the only two ways of safety for any of us.”

Menhades turned and walked swiftly toward the house of women. He ignored the servants who greeted him, and as soon as Ahut appeared, he said, “I will speak with the Hebrew woman, Sarai.”

“Is the pharaoh worse?”

“Don't ask me questions. Bring the woman to me. I want to speak to her alone. No eavesdroppers.”

“Certainly—certainly!” Ahut muttered. He ran quickly, and ten minutes later Menhades turned to see Sarai, who had entered the room. She was wearing a simple linen garment that was not as provocative as the Egyptians wore.

“You sent for me, sir?”

“Yes. I must speak plainly with you.”

“Have I offended Pharaoh in some way?”

“I cannot tell.” Menhades came to stand before her. He was so tall she had to lift her head to look at him. “You are aware of the pharaoh's sickness?”

“I have heard only a little.”

“Have you heard that six of our highest officials have also been afflicted with a similar disease?”

“I have not heard the number, but the rumors are everywhere that there is such a plague.”

“Oh, you call it a plague!”

“Pardon me, sir. I do not know what to call it,” Sarai said.

Her calmness was not lost on Menhades. He was aware of her strong faith in her God to protect her.

“I will ask you directly, woman. Do you think that your God has sent this sickness to Pharaoh and his court?”

Sarai's heart leaped, knowing that this was the answer from the Eternal One!

“I have told the pharaoh, who asked me to become his wife, that the eternal God whom I serve does not favor the Hebrews mixing with other races. But he would not heed me. I think it is entirely possible, sir, that this sickness is a warning from the Eternal One.”

Menhades stared at the woman. Her eyes were clear, and there was such certainty in her voice and attitude that he knew he had to take some action. “I will talk to you later,” he said. He whirled, his linen skirt swirling about his knees as he hurried out of the room.

“Thank you, O Eternal One,” Sarai said, a joyous light in her eyes. She went back to her room, where she found Hagar waiting for her, as always. “I believe that I will soon be leaving this place, Hagar, and I thank you for your services.”

“But you will not leave me!” Hagar said, running over to Sarai and falling on her knees before her. “Please take me with you! The pharaoh himself gave me to you.”

“You do not know what you ask, Hagar. Life here is easy. Life on the desert is hard.”

“Do you think I do not know that? I came from the desert, and look at this.” Hagar turned around and pulled down the top of her dress. Her back was striped with old wounds, and some not so old. “You would not do this to me, would you, mistress?”

Sarai was horrified. She had seen slaves beaten, but this woman had endured torment. “Pull your dress up. You may go with me. You will be my servant.”

Hagar did as she was told, her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, mistress. I will serve you well!”

****

Menhades went directly to the pharaoh and found him weeping in pain. As Menhades bowed before him, the pharaoh cried out, “Why do the gods torment me so when I honor all of them!”

Menhades knew that his political career, and, indeed, his very life, might be on the line. To suggest that Pharaoh had made a mistake was unthinkable, but there was no other alternative. Taking a deep breath, the high priest said, “I think you have offended the God of the Hebrews.”

Pharaoh had been crouched over with pain. Now he forced himself to straighten up. “You mean the woman Sarai?”

“Yes. I have been talking to her, and she says it is their custom that Hebrews marry only within their own people.”

“I meant no harm.” Pharaoh's face had grown gray with fear. “Quick, Menhades, send for her brother. We must make it right.”

“At once, O Pharaoh!”

****

Abram had come to the gates many times during the past weeks, and always before he had been rebuffed by Noestru, but this time he was met by the high priest himself, who bowed to him in a most unusual gesture. Abram returned the bow and said, “I have come according to your word.”

“I thank you for your promptness. The pharaoh wishes to see you.”

As the two men walked toward the palace, Menhades studied the tall man beside him. It was his business to know men, and there was strength in the face of the Hebrew that impressed him. “We have a problem, Abram. The pharaoh is sick, as well as several of his high officials.”

“I have heard of the sickness.”

Menhades had it on the tip of his tongue to inquire more, but he thought better of it and said simply, “I hope you can do something to help our god the pharaoh.”

“I am not a physician.”

The answer was spare but was delivered clearly and with a glance that warned Menhades that Abram did not come in humility. There was a confidence about him that was almost frightening.

Menhades said no more but brought Abram into the room where the pharaoh languished on his bed. He had been drugged for the pain, but he sat up with the help of his servant as the two men entered.

“Pharaoh, this is Abram, the prophet of the Eternal One.”

Pharaoh began to quiver. “Please, Abram, tell me. Have I offended your God?”

“Our women do not marry people outside of our own race,” Abram said. He was studying the pharaoh, who was a pitiful sight. He had heard that the sores brought on by the plague were terribly painful. Most of these were hidden by the light garment the pharaoh wore, but he could see the lines of pain in the man's face.

“I was not aware of this,” the pharaoh said meekly.

“Did the woman not tell you?” Abram demanded strongly. “And I must tell you this. The woman is my wife.”

“Your wife! They told me she was your sister.”

Abram saw that his words had horrified Pharaoh. “The men of my people often call their wives ‘sister,'” he explained. “It is a term of affection.” His explanation had some truth to it, and Abram was relieved that Pharaoh believed him.

“I did not know that,” the pharaoh cried. “Your God cannot blame me! I am innocent!” He was shaking frightfully now, and he held out his hand. “Pray for me to your God. Take your wife and go, and I will give you even more cattle.”

“The gifts are not necessary,” Abram said, knowing that his prayer had been effective. He also knew that this pharaoh would now be aware that the Eternal One was no mere block of stone but a living, paralyzing force. “I will pray for you now, and you will be healed.”

“Yes! Yes! Pray for me now! Quickly!”

Abram lifted his voice and prayed for the pharaoh. He had never had such assurance in all of his life, and his prayer was short and direct. When he had finished he said, “You have been healed of the plague, you and your men. I will take my people and leave Egypt.”

“You must take the gifts. Menhades, see that he has more cattle. Hundreds of them! See to it!”

“It shall be done, O Pharaoh.” Menhades touched Abram's arm, and the two left the room.

Menhades was stunned by what he had just seen, and he whispered to Abram, “Do you really think he was healed?”

“Yes, you will find that he is truly healed—and the others also. Now bring my wife to me at once.”

“At once, O Abram, at once!”

****

Menhades burst into Sarai's room without bothering to knock. Sarai was sitting down, and Hagar was fixing her hair. Sarai saw the excitement and fear on the face of the high priest.

“Quickly, you must go!” Menhades shouted.

“Go?” Sarai said. “Go where?”

“Your husband is here, and you must go with him at once.”

Sarai then laughed aloud. She turned to Hagar and said, “Did I not tell you that the Eternal One would set us free? Come, we will leave this place.”

Menhades waited impatiently while the two women gathered their belongings. “Is the slave girl going with you?” he asked.

“Yes. The pharaoh himself gave her to me as a gift.”

“Then take her and go in the name of all the gods!”

Sarai could not help laughing. “You have been anxious to have me as your guest, but now you are anxious for me to leave.”

Menhades found himself afraid, a rare experience for him. But he had seen a miracle, and he whispered, “Please, Lady Sarai, go with your husband and leave Egypt at once.”

Sarai hurried outside the house of women, and there, standing in the same robe she had seen him wear the day she disappeared, was Abram. He ran toward her and called her name, and she threw herself into his arms. Neither of them could speak, but finally Abram asked, “Are you all right?”

“Yes. I'm all right. Oh, Abram, the Eternal One saved us! He is God of all things.”

“Yes, He is. Now let's leave this place. I don't care if I never see Egypt again!”

The two left, followed by the slave girl. Abram knew that they had been delivered by the power of God, and as he held on to his wife, clutching her as if afraid to let her go, he prayed silently,
O Eternal One, may I never forget this. Put it on my memory so that it never leaves—that you are the God who can do all things!

[Sarai] said to Abram, “The Lord has kept me from having children. Go, sleep with my maidservant; perhaps I can build a family through her.”

Genesis 16:2

Looking up at the sky, Eliezer admired the cloud formation that drifted slowly overhead. He had an active, creative imagination, and for a moment he stood still, picturing in his mind the images that the drifting, fluffy white clouds made. One of them looked like one of the sheep that chomped the grass at his feet. Another reminded him of the head of an old man, with snow-white locks and a beard that rolled down in rangy curls.
You're going to lose your mind if you don't stop letting it wander so much!

Eliezer laughed under his breath at his own fancies, then threaded his way through the flock of sheep that spread out over the flat pastureland. The grass was adequate for another two days of grazing; then it would be time to move the sheep. The water was good, for they had camped within a short distance of a small stream that fed a larger one ten miles away. His shepherd's mind picked up all of these details without effort, and his glance went from one animal to another. He did not really know the name of every sheep in the fold as Abram had often teased him, but he knew those that had problems. Now his eye picked up a sight that made him turn and hurry quickly ahead.

A ewe had dropped a lamb, and now the tiny animal had struggled to his feet and was staggering around having his first look at the world. “Well, welcome to the world,” Eliezer said, smiling. He reached over and picked up the lamb and cuddled it in his arms, wondering at the miracle that had brought a new life into the world.

While he held the lamb, the ewe moved around anxiously and, from time to time, nudged his knee. He began to sing a song that he always sang each time he saw a newborn lamb, a song he had made up himself. He was often teased for his song making and seldom sang in the presence of others, but he frequently serenaded the sheep in his pleasant baritone voice with its smooth, soothing quality.

“Welcome to the world, little lamb!

Welcome to the sweet water!

Welcome to the fresh green grass!

I sing your song and no other,

A song to your beauty and innocence.

Grow strong and fat in your world,

And may your wool make

A gown for a queen

And a robe for a king!”

“That's a nice song. Did you make it up yourself, Eliezer?”

Startled, Eliezer turned with the lamb still in his arms to find that Hagar had approached and now stood a few feet from him. She was wearing a thin garment she had brought with her from Egypt. Her dark eyes were large and lustrous, and unlike Hebrew women, she had painted her eyelids green, making her eyes look even larger. Her hair was carefully tended, and the sun caught the lustrous, dark gleam of it as she stood before him.

“I…I just found this one,” Eliezer said, stammering a little. He was not a man who was at ease in the presence of women—at least not of attractive young women. In truth, Eliezer had no idea how good-looking he was. He had simply never paid attention to such things. His whole adult life had been spent learning to serve his master, Abram. His friends were always quick to point out the young women who found him attractive, but Eliezer had managed to avoid such encounters. Now he was a mature man, but he had never learned the art of flirting as others his age had. “I always love to watch the newborn lambs,” he said to Hagar. “Don't you find them beautiful?”