Abraham and Sarah (14 page)

“We’ll have to send presents,” Abram explained to his men as they were warming themselves by a small fire of dried dung. He had described the unique relationship his father had enjoyed with the vizier-turned-pharaoh. “He is a man who appreciates fine things, and in return we can depend on him to be generous.”

The men were immediately encouraged. They totally ignored Abram’s
warning of the difficulties they could face at the border and instead talked only of the rumors they had heard of life in Egypt.

Sarai especially was pleased. She quietly told Mara how Abram had been quite modest in his remarks about his friendship with the pharaoh. “Imagine,” she said, “a vizier becoming a pharaoh. Who would have thought such a thing possible?” She was busy with her hand loom and didn’t notice the way Mara tossed her head and smirked.

“Lot says he is from an important family that lives on an island up near the first cataract,” Mara said and was pleased to see that Sarai stopped her weaving and looked up in surprise. She obviously hadn’t thought that Mara would be so well informed. Neither woman knew what a cataract was, but neither was going to admit it to the other.

That night when Abram came to Sarai’s tent and had eaten the freshly baked bread dipped in olive oil and thyme, Sarai asked him, “What is a cataract?”

Abram was about to bite into the steaming bread, but he hesitated in surprise. “Where did you hear of cataracts?”

“From Mara. She says the new pharaoh is from an island up near the first cataract.” Sarai didn’t look up but toyed with the bread she was eating. The information she sought was much more important than food.

“So you don’t want to be outdone. You want to know as much as Mara.” He laughed. It always pleased him to ferret out some hidden aspect of Sarai’s nature.

Sarai threw down her bread and turned away. She hated when Abram pointed out the foolishness of her pride. She was even more annoyed when he didn’t seem to notice her frustration. He went on dipping his bread and eating hungrily. When he had finished, he motioned for her maid to take the food away, wiped his hands on the damp towel she held for him, and then settled back in the cushions and looked at Sarai.

“How is it,” he said, “that you seem to grow more lovely with time? If we were back in Ur, I’d have to find some way to protect you.”

“What do you mean, protect me?” she asked rather coyly.

“Why, in a place like Ur, as it is now with the Elamites in power, they take what they want. If it’s a man’s wife they want, they don’t hesitate to take her.”

“But the husband would complain to the judges at the gate and they’d have their heads for it.”

Abram had to smile, seeing Sarai’s certainty at just how the husband would act. He realized that she had been rather sheltered and had no idea of the dark evils that had come with the Elamites to plague the residents of Ur. He felt that he had been remiss in not explaining some of the dangers. “I’m afraid you don’t understand,” he said, reaching for her warm, rather practical little hand. “They would have the husband killed.”

Sarai was immediately horrified. “Killed! They would have the husband killed!” Her hands flew to her mouth and her eyes were large with the fright of such an idea. “Why would they kill him?”

“Just so they wouldn’t be bothered with him and any plots for revenge.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Very sure.”

“Have you known anyone …” She couldn’t finish the sentence. It was too horrible to contemplate.

“Yes, Sarai, I have even heard the women of Ur have taken to wearing veils to cover their faces or they stay inside.”

“How unpleasant.”

Abram had to laugh at the look on her face and for a moment that broke the tension. “We may find the same thing true in Egypt. I was only there as a young man with a group of traders. Even then the vizier had a reputation for lustily gathering beautiful women into his harem.”

Sarai laughed suddenly and merrily, just as she had done when they were playing together back in Ur in their father’s courtyard. “Well, there’s no need to fear. I’m too old to attract any man’s attention.”

Abram became serious. Quickly his eyes scanned her face and then her small shapely figure with the bare toes peeping out from beneath her fringed skirt. “Sarai, I must confess, I find you more beautiful now than when you were younger.”

Again she laughed. “How can you be serious?”

He caught her hands and turned her around to face him. He studied her face, and she saw that he was seeing her almost as a stranger would see her. When he spoke, his words came with great effort. “Sarai, you wouldn’t know, but there is a soft, glowing bit of vitality that seems to radiate from you, making you most attractive. Pharaoh is sure to find you captivating. We’ll have to hide you away or cover you up while we’re in Egypt.”

Sarai jumped to her feet. “You mean I’ll have to stay hidden away while
everyone else visits and has exciting adventures?”

Abram got up and reached out to her, explaining, “We’ll ask Pharaoh for a house for our families while we are there. You can invite the ladies of the court to visit, but I’m afraid it may not be safe for you to visit them.”

Sarai pulled away and turned her back to him. “That would spoil everything. I couldn’t stand it.”

“There’s no other way.” Abram’s voice was husky with concern.

“But they will invite us back. I couldn’t endure having to refuse.”

As usual Abram couldn’t stand seeing Sarai so disappointed. He determined to find a way to please her without taking a chance on offending the pharaoh.

He had been thinking a great deal about Pharaoh and had already decided to send presents to him. At every stop he intended to dispatch runners with costly gifts to remind the pharaoh of their past friendship.

Abram had no idea how the man they had known as a vizier had become the exalted, most honorable, and venerated Pharaoh of both Upper and Lower Egypt. As the people said, “He has brought together the Vulture of Upper Egypt and the Serpent of Lower Egypt.” He would be wearing the two crowns, the rounded white crown for the lands to the south and the red crown that fit over it for the northern section. Kemet, the black-and-red land as the Egyptians called it, was united under his rule. Their old friend was undoubtedly very powerful and would be able to help them considerably if they were careful not to offend him.

“Sarai,” he said gently, “I will try to think of some solution that won’t be so distasteful to you. However, we can’t take a chance on offending Pharaoh.”

With a little cry of joy that always delighted Abram, she spun around and impulsively flung her arms around him. “You will. You will think of something. I know you will.”

Later, back in his own tent, Abram quickly put aside the happy time spent in Sarai’s grateful arms and once again struggled with the problems of going down to Egypt. He seemed always to be caught in an impossible tangle. He’d promised Sarai the freedom she wanted, and he would have to think of some way without offending the pharaoh to make sure they didn’t court disaster. There had been ghastly stories of wives in Ur being snatched from their homes and husbands brutally killed. What had happened in Ur could happen in Egypt, he reasoned. Beautiful Sarai could be taken and he could be killed.

Then another, more frightening thought occurred. If he were to introduce Sarai as his wife, the old question of children would be raised. If it were discovered that she was barren, there would be the usual fear that she was somehow the bearer of frightful omens and demonic entities. They would be sure she was cursed, and her very presence could bring the same curse to them and their household.

As he tossed and turned, suddenly a solution occurred to him. Sarai was his half-sister. It would be no lie to say to anyone who might inquire that she was indeed his sister, implying she was still unmarried. That would avoid any possibility of his life being in danger and any question about Sarai’s barren state. With that settled he turned over and sank into a deep sleep.

Sarai readily agreed to say, if asked, that she was his sister. As it turned out the only time they were questioned was at the border going into Egypt where a contingent of Pharaoh’s border guards stopped them and asked questions. A scribe jotted down all the information. When they parted the curtains of Sarai’s cart and asked her name, she told them Sarai, and when they asked for her relationship to the others, she hesitated only a moment before saying, “The sister of Abram.”

Abram, standing beside the scribe, breathed a sigh of relief and smiled his approval. It was only later that he began to wonder if he had made a mistake not only in asking Sarai to tell this half lie, but also in making the trip down to Egypt. He didn’t know what else he could have done, but it soon became clear that Elohim had not brought him here.

I
n one of the gardens of the royal palace at Itjtawy in the delta near Memphis, a group of maidens waited for Pharaoh’s new favorite. They had all come from noble families with high hopes that they would be chosen to wait on Her Radiance. Among the group was a haughty young beauty who stood apart from the others and seemed sulky and out of sorts, if not outright hostile. When her turn came to have her name recorded by the royal scribe, she tossed her head and gave her name as Hajar Gameela.

The scribe looked up and smirked as he noted her arrogance. He recognized her as one of the daughters of the pharaoh by a concubine who had recently fallen from favor. “Beautiful stone,” he said writing her name in small figures on a partially rolled parchment. “You can discard the fancy name. Now you are just an ordinary brown rock to be polished and shaped. Don’t forget or it will go hard with you.”

“Don’t try to threaten me,” she said, leaning over so no one else would hear. “I don’t want to be chosen, and I don’t intend to stay.” She whirled around and with a proud lift of her chin rejoined the others in the shade of the tall lotus pillars.

The scribe threw down his reed pen, “By the feather of maat, the truthful one,” he stormed, “I’ll not abide such conceit. Guard!”

He motioned for one of the guards but then on second thought waved him away. However, as he went on recording names, he was no longer calm and efficient but instead glanced every once in a while at the rebellious Hajar Gameela. “You’d think the girl would realize she has no influence now. She’s trouble,” he muttered half to himself and half to the young boy who assisted him.

Hajar stood apart from the other young women. She was the only one not excited and eager. She glanced around furtively. She felt confident that she could easily be chosen if that was what she wanted. However, that was definitely not what she wanted, and Hajar had always managed to get what she
wanted. That is, she had always gotten just what she wanted until her mother had been suddenly rejected by the pharaoh, and she herself was no longer his pride and joy.

It was due to the new favorite’s clever plotting that she was here, and she was determined to do whatever was necessary to frustrate the woman’s plans.

Many people had explained to her that it would be a great honor to be chosen as a maiden to wait on the women of high standing in Pharaoh’s court. But she knew it was the new favorite’s way of putting her down, making sure she realized she was no longer privileged.

As Hajar thought about it now, she realized that she would have been wiser to hide her love for her father, the pharaoh, from this woman. This woman, Senebtisy, who had taken her mother’s place in Pharaoh’s affections, was no great beauty, but she was from a powerful family. She was already noted for ridding the court of any competition. Hajar’s mother had urged caution. “We no longer have any influence with Pharaoh, and if we are to stay, we’ll have to accede pleasantly to this woman’s wishes.”

Hajar had not listened to her mother. Instead she had fought a desperate battle to be first in the aging pharaoh’s affections. She had been so sure of winning her father over that she had privately taunted the new favorite in every way possible. “It’s too bad,” she would say with a look of concern, “he doesn’t honor you as he did my mother.”

Her insolence did not go unnoticed, and Senebtisy was determined to humble Hajar and rid the court of her. But how to do so was a problem. Pharaoh had always been amused and charmed by Hajar’s spunk. He found her refreshingly outspoken. What others considered arrogance, he condoned as appropriate for one of royal blood.

Just when Hajar thought she had won, Senebtisy had suggested she enter the competition to become one of the young maidens stationed in the women’s court. Pharaoh had thought that showed genuine affection for Hajar on the part of his favorite. He didn’t suspect that it was her way of controlling every aspect of Hajar’s life.

“See,” she told Pharaoh, “your daughter is slim and round-eyed and has skin like an almond blossom. What else is worthy of her birth and station? She will be like a beautiful lotus blossom among my women. She will learn many things while we are looking for a suitable husband for her.”

Senebtisy had already chosen the suitable husband for Hajar and only
waited for the right moment to approach Pharaoh. The man she had chosen was an aged nomarch from the delta. He had ruled this area almost like a king until Amenemhet became Pharaoh and united the country. Pharaoh was sure to consider it a wise move. To have a marriage agreement with such a powerful man would assure some control over the nome he still held.