Abraham and Sarah (35 page)

Sarah grieved for Mara and the girls. She was constantly remembering things out of the past. How young they had been when they left Ur. How strange their new life had seemed. Most of all she wondered why such a terrible thing had to happen to such good people. “Mara was greedy,” she said sadly, “but she didn’t deserve this. I wanted to go to Sodom,” she added, “it could have been me.”

Hagar and Sarah’s maidservants did not expect to see such grief. “She doesn’t know how Mara envied and criticized her,” they whispered.

In the days that followed it became evident that Abraham and his people would have to move. The sky was so overcast, they could no longer see the sun. Only a dull orange light let them know that another day had dawned. At night the moon and stars had vanished, and man and beast suffered from a choking, coughing reaction to the small particles in the hot blasts of air.

It was a difficult decision. The area to the north was too settled, and the vast, relatively empty area to the south was barren desert—not rolling sandy desert but a desert of low thornbushes, tamarisk, acacia, and some scrub oak. It was rough, lonely country, often mountainous, with such high places as Mount Paran and Jebel Magharar.

During the rainy season there were flowers, wild grasses, and gushing wadis that rushed in torrents from the high, rocky ledges. However, when the
rains stopped, only the most tenacious shrubs survived.

Going from the villages above Mamre, where Abraham was camped, was a track called the Way of Shur. It led south. Abraham proposed to travel along that track. Followed to its final destination, the Way of Shur led down to Egypt. The route was not as popular as the Way of the Sea, but it was often used by people wanting to go down to Egypt from the cities such as Hebron, Bethlehem, and Jericho.

As soon as possible Abraham contacted the ruling dignitaries, asking permission to camp and let his animals graze on the open areas. He sent gifts and offered various favors. The most favorable reply came from the king of Gerar, named Abimelech. He held his position by the authority of the pharaoh of Egypt.

Reluctantly Abraham and his people gathered up their belongings and drove their cattle south to the desert lands of the Negev between Kadesh and Shur. Though the grazing there was good during the rainy season, it was now midsummer. They found nothing green except in places beside a brook or farther south along the River of Egypt. Abraham’s herders traveled over a wide, open area of desert just to find food for their animals.

Urim found the city of Gerar quite pleasing. It was situated between the Way of the Sea and the Way of Shur, so it enjoyed many distinguished guests from Egypt and had the benefit of news and goods from important places. It sat at the mouth of the Wadi Besor—a rushing stream in the rainy season, but now in early summer, it was almost dry.

Abimelech’s steward immediately encouraged Urim to settle among them, and it was not long before Warda was called in to entertain special guests from Egypt.

Gerar had many of the refinements of Egypt. Its houses were of cut stone, and it had quiet courtyards filled with flowers and pools. However, the king was often bored, and at such times he sought out people who could distract and entertain him. Urim soon became one of his favorites. It was always the same request; he wanted to hear more of his many adventures. Most of all he plied him with questions about his travels with the rich and wise tradesman known as Abraham.

On this particular day, Urim had come up from his camp to Gerar and
was stopping by the palace before going home. He had brought some aged-to-perfection cheese to the open courtyard that was used as the king’s kitchen.

He could tell they were expecting a special guest. There were spits with whole sheep turning on them and bakers shaping and thrusting bread into hot clay ovens. Over in a sunny corner, some old women sat picking the stones out of cracked wheat that would be mixed with drippings from the lamb and cooked with bread in the hot ovens.

Urim placed the cheese before the burly fellow in charge of the cooking. “Who is the favored guest this time?” he asked.

“Some very rich, very important fellow who has sent the king wonderful gifts of honey, sheep, and choice figs.”

Urim was curious. “And this ‘very rich’ man’s name?” he asked as he picked up a circle of bread, opened it, and drizzled into it olive oil followed by a sprinkling of herbs. Urim liked good food. As he went from place to place marketing his cheeses, it pleased him to stop in good cooking areas to taste the specialties for the day. He knew better than to sample the special food being cooked for the king and his guests, but bread, olive oil, and herbs were plentiful and he was welcome to as much as he wanted.

“Some wealthy man named Abraham,” the baker said, holding the basting stick in midair while he talked. “He has tents like a small town and flocks that graze over the whole countryside. He has been very generous with the king.”

Urim smiled and took two big bites to finish the bread, then quickly wiping his hands on his robe, he excused himself. “So, at last the king is going to meet the man he is most curious about,” he chortled, “and I’m the one who can give him all the information he wants. He’ll be glad to see me today.”

Being a person who moved cautiously among his betters, Urim took care to send a message to the king, suggesting that he had important news for him. As he had thought, it was not long before he was ushered out to the king’s balcony. The king, an elderly man of great size, who spilled over the edge of the large cushion he sat on, was checking the household business with his steward.

“Urim, my friend,” he said, without looking up from a clay tablet he was studying, “what important news do you bring?”

“I see you are at last having your wish to entertain the mysterious tradesman who camps out under the stars.” Urim rubbed his hands together nervously. “I think you envy him his freedom.”

Abimelech frowned. In spite of his gray hair and beard that suggested a ripe old age, his bare arm showed muscles that still rippled, and his legs were strong and as well shaped as those of a younger man. He was robust and hardy and was noted for keeping all twelve of the women in his harem constantly pregnant. He had more than one hundred children and an untold number of grandchildren. However, for all his prowess and strength it was his wit and wisdom that made fast friends of all who knew him.

“I don’t envy anyone living in tents,” the king said. “I’m surprised he didn’t stay in Egypt. I hear he had connections with the pharaoh. So why did he leave?”

Urim recognized this question as a probe for information, and he skillfully tried to avoid saying anything Abraham would not approve of. “What connections do you mean?” he asked.

“Why, I’ve heard his sister was actually taken into Pharaoh’s harem and also that he was given one of Pharaoh’s own daughters as a concubine.”

“Yes, yes,” Urim said, trying to edge away from such a dangerous subject. “He was a special friend of Pharaoh.”

“I have also heard that he has had a son by the Egyptian woman. This would, of course, be a grandson of Pharaoh.”

“Amenemhet favored him above all others.”

“What is there about this man that a pharaoh should be so interested in him? Was it his wealth?”

“At first,” Urim said with an air of importance, “it was his wealth and the fact that he was well versed in the wisdom of Chaldea. Later, after the pharaoh knew him, he himself was the fascination.”

“Ah yes, he’s not just a scholar. I heard how he rescued the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah from the Elamites. It’s indeed amazing. Melchizedek has told me all about it.”

“Melchizedek,” Urim said, “you know him?”

The king didn’t answer but continued to study the clay tablet. Finally, when it was obvious that the cheese maker was getting very uncomfortable, he said, “You have done well at avoiding my question. There must be some very interesting scandal connected with our illustrious trader, his sister, and Pharaoh. Am I right?”

The king looked up at him with a penetrating gaze that totally unnerved Urim. He backed up and bowed as though to leave but was surprised by two
eunuchs who suddenly appeared behind him. He was trapped. The question was one he dared not answer.

“So I’m right. It was the sister that made them leave Egypt. No doubt she’s ugly and plain.”

“No, no,” Urim objected, “it’s quite the opposite. She’s very beautiful.”

“I know how it is. Pharaoh wanted to have the closest ties with Abraham, family ties, but …”

“Sarah,” Urim sputtered, “she’s very beautiful. Too beautiful.”

“Then what went wrong?” The king was getting impatient with Urim.

Urim saw that it would be no time at all before the king would have the information out of him. Abraham would never forgive him. He had to think fast. “My lord,” he said, “these are private matters a simple cheese maker is not privy to.”

The king studied Urim for a few minutes and then waved him aside. “Never mind. I intend to invite Abraham and his family to live in Gerar. I intend to give them houses and servants or whatever they want or need. You can be sure that I will make a point of seeing this sister who is so beautiful.”

That evening as Abraham and some of the men from his camp sat with the king of Gerar in his roof pavilion, they were impressed with his generosity. He had spared nothing in his effort to make them welcome and comfortable.

Abraham feared that the king would object to so many people with their tents and animals moving into the free lands and using the wells. However, he received nothing but words of welcome. More than that, the king asked him to consider spending some months in the city of Gerar. Abraham could not understand why the king put such an emphasis on their moving to the city. Stranger still, he made bold to mention that their women would be welcome at the palace.

Gradually Abraham understood his motives to be above reproach. Undoubtedly the king felt that they could be a help to each other. He could supply the king with food, and in return the king could let him stay with his flocks and tents on the Negev’s free land.

Three months had gone by since Abraham’s encounter with the mysterious visitors. In that time only one of the predictions had come true. Sodom and Gomorrah had been completely destroyed, but the other prediction of a child for Abraham and Sarah didn’t materialize. Sarah noticed a few encouraging signs, but when nothing further developed, she told Abraham, “I’m
probably wanting it so badly I’ve imagined the symptoms.” She had known several childless women who had imagined a pregnancy. Their bellies had grown huge and they had the sickness, but nothing ever came of it.

“Even if I were expecting a child, who would believe it?” she said. “I would be scorned and laughed at.”

Nevertheless Abraham made a special effort to please Sarah. When she wanted certain wild herbs to season her bread, he had the whole camp searching until they found them. When she wanted fresh figs, he bartered with a man who owned a fine fig tree. When she wanted to accept the king of Gerar’s invitation to move into the city, Abraham could not refuse her. “Perhaps it is better to live in a comfortable house. If there is to be a child, this would be better.”

At that time a great, unforeseen tragedy overtook the house of Urim. He was at the height of his popularity and prosperity, but life for Urim would never be the same again. There had been many caravans coming from various places with an assortment of travelers. Some were traders, others miners being taken to work in the mines of the Sinai, and still others diplomats from the court of Pharaoh. The trouble occurred during one of these visits by a diplomatic entourage.

Because they were from Egypt and spoke only Egyptian, Abimelech asked Urim to bring Warda to the palace to help entertain the wives of the prominent men. One of the dignitaries, an older man with cold, calculating eyes, came to the court of the women and watched Warda with growing fascination. “How is it this beauty is found so far from Egypt?” he finally asked the king. “Who is her husband?”

The king quickly informed him that she was married to a cheese maker, a clever fellow who had come by her while in Egypt. “She is indeed the joy of his life and the delight of his heart.”

“Do you think he would consider parting with her?”

“He has little use for gold, and Warda is his prize possession. I doubt that you would be very successful.”

“But the girl, she is wasted here. In my house she would have the clothes, jewelry, and servants that she deserves.”

The king shrugged. “You could talk to him, but I would guess he would never consider such a thing.”

“So he would be difficult, you think.”

“Very difficult.”

“Then it may take other means. I have thought of nothing else since I first laid eyes on her.”

The king leaned back among the cushions and studied the Egyptian for a few moments. “I see that you have indeed been charmed by her beauty.”

The Egyptian fingered his pectoral jewels. “Perhaps you have in mind to take her for yourself,” he said with narrowed eyes.

The king motioned for his cupbearer and drank leisurely, wiping his mouth finally on his sleeve before answering. “I do not choose women for their beauty,” he said. “I have my harem full, and each one has come with some political or practical advantage.”