Sarai (Jill Eileen Smith) (17 page)

He had lost her. Just as Eliezer had lost Jerusha, only worse. Eliezer had fought to save Jerusha from the king of Nineveh, whereas Abram had stood watching his beloved taken without saying a word.

Guilt lashed him. He should open his mouth even now and tell the king the truth, demand his wife’s return. He glanced at the king’s face, saw the threatening gleam in his eyes, and the words died on his tongue.

“You will be well paid for your sister.”

Abram’s thoughts snapped. Pharaoh Mentuhotep’s honeyed tone seemed as false as his beard.

The pharaoh laid the crook and the flail across his knees and clapped his hands. “Take this man—what is your name?”

Abram swallowed the grit on his tongue and cleared his throat. “Abram ben Terah, my lord.”

He nodded. “Take Abram ben Terah to my inner courtyard and bring the servants. He shall have his pick of menservants and maidservants. Then take him to the sheep pens and the donkey and camel stalls. Give him the best of my flocks and herds.” He stroked his fake chin, eyeing Abram. “Your sister—what is her name?”

Abram’s chest tightened, his heart beating faster. “Sarai, my lord.”

Pharaoh Mentuhotep smiled, his teeth showing white above the thin beard. “My princess. How fitting.” He snapped his fingers at his servants. “See to it the man is well paid.”

Abram bowed low, somehow managing to thank the pharaoh. Servants guided him toward the palace courtyard, but his feet were weighted, his limbs bent and forced to move as though trudging through Canaan’s tar pits. He drew in a shallow breath, but the effort made his knees weak. Eliezer somehow appeared at his side and caught his arm.

“How could this have happened?” Abram asked. He would surely awaken from this nightmare. It couldn’t possibly be real.

A cacophony of voices filled the courtyard, men and women forming two lines like sheep heading to slaughter. Abram blinked, barely able to focus. What was he doing here?

Eliezer leaned close to Abram’s ear. “We will get her back.”

Abram shook his head, suddenly feeling aged, dead, yet somehow still breathing. “You above all men should know how impossible that is.”

A guard summoned Abram forward to choose twenty menservants and twenty maidservants to join his company. Abram looked at the Egyptian overseer, disgust turning to bile in his gut. He whirled about, glanced at Eliezer. “You decide.” He stormed off, his thoughts churning, consumed with his loss. He couldn’t live without Sarai. Why had God allowed this?

He should never have come here. And now he had ruined everything.

God help him!

13

Hagar sat at the end of her mother’s sparkling pool and dangled her feet in the water. A flutist played a cheerful tune in the sitting room nearby, and the voices of her sisters chattering and bickering intruded on her attempt at solitude. The music was meant to soothe, but nothing could release the tensions that flowed in her mother’s rooms, especially when her father added a new wife to his bulging harem.

She moved the water with her toe and lifted it high, watching the water droplets dance on the surface as they dripped from her brown leg. Her mother’s cat sauntered near and shoved its head against her arm. She laughed, petting the animal until it evoked a loud purr.

“Hagar, there you are.”

Irritation stirred within Hagar at her mother’s tone. She braced herself.

“Why are you sitting around lazing by the pool? Your father has taken a new wife. Now go!”

Hagar looked into her mother’s scowling face. The woman seemed to notice her only when she wanted something. “I thought I’d give the new wife a chance to settle first.” She was tired of playing the servant to appease her mother’s whims. Though as a servant, at least she felt loved. Nitianu, her maidservant since her birth, was more a mother to her than the woman who glared down at her now, and Osahar, chief eunuch of her father’s harem, was the father she would never have as Pharaoh’s daughter.

“You are a lazy excuse for a daughter, and I have half a mind to sell you to the slave dealers.” Her mother bent toward her and grabbed her arm. “Get up!” She yanked Hagar’s forearm, her long nails digging into her flesh.

Hagar stifled a cry, scrambling to her feet. “All right then! Stop fussing at me. You can’t sell me. I’m Pharaoh’s daughter! Once in a while it would be nice if you realized that.”

The sting of her mother’s hand bit into her cheek. She staggered backward, hating the sudden emotion. She would not cry.

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that again, Hagar. You may be Pharaoh’s daughter, but you have nothing to offer him.” Her kohl-rimmed eyes narrowed to slits, and her normally beautiful mouth curled in disgust. “If you had your sisters’ charm and beauty or even talent, you would make a sure alliance with foreign lands. As it is, the only good you are to me is the information you bring me and the lies you tell the new wife. Once Pharaoh has had his fill of her, she will soon be forgotten. I need not remind you how important that is to our cause.”

Hagar nodded, the heat of her mother’s slap matching the fire in her glare. But the physical pain could not compare to the emotional wounds she was inflicting with every word. Her mother’s cause? She did not care if her mother ever regained her favor as a wife instead of a concubine or won her father’s heart. Her mother could go to Osiris, god of the underworld, for all she cared!

“Why are you still standing there? Go!” Her mother’s voice rose to a shriek. The flutist hit a faulty note, and her sisters’ arguments ceased.

“Yes, Mother.” The word tasted sour as she whirled about and fled the courtyard. She would go to the new wife and learn what she could. But she would not lie to this one. She would do all she could to help the woman find favor in her father’s eyes.

Sarai entered a room painted in brilliant colors, the smooth tiles of the floor gleaming white in contrast. Columns stood along one wall opening to a courtyard garden, where lotus blossoms floated on the blue water of a pool.

“This will be your room for the first month.” A servant walked to the chest and lifted the lid. “Once you are ready for your audience with the king, you will move to another room across the courtyard.” She waved a hand toward the columns housing the pool. “If he is pleased with you, you will be his wife. If not”—she shrugged—“you’ll be his concubine. His choice will determine where you will live.”

The girl lifted a white linen shift and sheer robe from the chest and spread them out on the bed. “These are your nightclothes. The other garments are in the chest. We will review them tomorrow. For now you are free to enjoy your rooms and rest. Food will be served to you here until you are ready to join the other women.”

Sarai’s head spun as she took in her surroundings. She eyed the young Egyptian servant. A developing youth, she wore little more than a skimpy white linen skirt that fell to her knees, tied with two straps over her shoulders. Sarai’s breath hitched. The wide straps merely skimmed the edges of her small brown breasts. Did these people care nothing for modesty? She raised a hand to her throat and blinked hard, certain she had not seen the servant clearly, but when she looked again, the girl’s appearance had not changed.

Heat warmed Sarai’s cheeks, and she lifted her gaze upward, studying the girl’s face. A black braided wig came to just below her chin, similar to that of every other servant Sarai had seen, enhancing a common Egyptian face. Dark kohl rimmed the girl’s eyes like everyone else’s, holding no distinction. What purpose was there in dressing everyone to look the same? And why did they think it normal to expose so much skin?

“If there is nothing else, my lady, I will leave you now.”

“No . . . I mean . . . please, don’t go.” Suddenly the thought of being left alone terrified her. If she would plan a way of escape from this place, she must begin by making acquaintances of the servants. Servants often knew more than their masters.

The girl lifted a sculpted black brow as though pondering the thought. At last she nodded. “I will summon some fish with bread and honey, and then you can rest.” She went to the door and spoke to a guard. She returned to Sarai, motioning to a low stool. When Sarai sat down, the servant took a shell comb and ran it through her mistress’s hair.

Silence stretched on as she detangled Sarai’s thick tresses. Sarai breathed in the heady scents of lotus and incense, fighting the calm they were meant to evoke.

“What is your name?” Sarai asked, her limbs growing sluggish, her mind struggling to focus.

“I am called Hagar.”

Sarai turned in her seat and studied the girl, uncertain what such a name could mean. “How old are you, Hagar?”

Hagar’s mouth twitched, but Sarai could not tell if she debated whether to answer or thought the question amusing. Before Sarai could ponder the action further, Hagar gave a slight bow. “My years are sixteen summers, my lady.” She set the comb on the table and turned to light the lamps in the room. A servant arrived with fish, bread, and beer, and Hagar beckoned Sarai into the sitting room to serve her.

Music swirled around her, and she looked at the food, unable to summon her appetite. The scents and sounds of the place were meant to soothe and woo her, and she wanted none of it.

“You must eat, my lady.” Hagar handed Sarai a golden goblet of beer.

Abram should be sharing this with her. She squeezed her eyes shut, seeing his stricken face in her mind’s eye.

“Though most new wives choose only drink when they first arrive.” Hagar’s look held sympathy. “In time you will adjust.” She coaxed the cup to Sarai’s lips. “Drink.”

Sarai stared at the liquid and recoiled. She shoved the stool back and stood, pacing from one end of the room to the other. She glanced at the servant, whose whole demeanor seemed too amused, not nearly subservient. Nevertheless, she was here and she knew this place.

“I will never adjust.” She halted her pacing to face Hagar. “I want you to tell me all you know of the pharaoh. Help me find a way to convince him to release me.”

Hagar lifted a brow but lost the haughty tilt of her chin. Something akin to fear flickered in her dark eyes for only a moment. She nodded. “It is impossible to leave, my lady.” She lowered her gaze and dipped her head. “But I will tell you all I know of Pharaoh. Perhaps in the telling, you will find a way to help yourself.”