Sarai (Jill Eileen Smith) (10 page)

“Eliezer will help you up, Sarai. Just put your right hand on the camel’s back and the other on his shoulder. He will boost you up.” Abram’s amused tone did nothing to remove the sudden fear of heights that came over her.

She gave him a scowl. “Perhaps I should walk for a while.”

He chuckled and she made a face at him. “Suit yourself. If you are too afraid—”

“I’m not afraid.” She looked at him evenly, then back at the camel. Perhaps she spoke too soon.

“This one is gentle. I think you’ll find the ride enjoyable, mistress.” Eliezer smiled, offering her his hand. The younger man exuded a sense of charm and confidence, qualities that endeared him to both her and Abram and made him a good manager of the people in Abram’s care. Surely she could trust him not to let her fall.

She nodded, running her hands along her robe and tunic. She had tucked them between her legs and girded them as men did during battle, except not quite so exposing, just enough to allow her to ride with ease over the long distances ahead. She looked to Abram, then Eliezer. “All right. I’m ready.”

The animal shifted, jostling her ever so slightly as she lifted her leg over its back. She squealed like a young girl, then laughed at her own anxiety. But when Eliezer motioned for the beast to stand, she clung to the saddle until every muscle clenched. “I’m going to fall!”

The animal rose and shifted, tossing her gently from side to side. She dug her knees into the camel’s sides, feeling Abram’s hand on her leg. “You’ll be fine. Would I let anything hurt you?”

She looked down at him, saw the serious glint beneath the humor in his eyes. “Of course not.” But a small part of her doubted. The lie they’d been living had hurt them both.

“I will be up ahead with the men.” He inclined his head toward the group of several hundred trained men he had worked with over the past two years, men he had acquired with the intent of keeping a small army to protect their ever-growing retinue. To protect her, he’d said. “I will come back to join you later.”

She nodded, knowing later would mean many hours from now. He walked off, Eliezer at his side. Like a father and son.

The thought brought a pang of longing so deep it caused a physical ache in her middle. She tried to breathe, but the action only produced small whiffs of air.
Promise. Keep.
Her father’s last words had continued to haunt her, their meaning clear.

The camel lurched, jerking her thoughts, making her heart beat wildly again. But within moments the animal took up a steady cadence, following the caravan lined up outside the city gates headed south and west. Her breathing slowed as she adjusted to the camel’s stride, but her thoughts still churned as Eliezer rode up and down the lines, checking to make sure everything was in order.

He was a good man. Young enough to be her son if she’d been blessed enough to have one. Abram put great store by him. The man had proven himself during their time in Harran, and she had seen no guile in him to fear he had selfish interests at heart. Perhaps Abram should give the man the seal of adoption, choosing him as their heir to at least give them a more secure future.

She looked up at the sound of male voices coming closer and clung to her camel’s hump as Lot and two of his men darted past, kicking dust behind them and shouting Abram’s name. She lifted the veil to her mouth, coughing. Now what?

She glanced to the side as Melah’s camel drew alongside hers. Her face looked pale as though she might be sick, her young daughter close in front of her.

“Would you take her for a time, Sarai?” Melah wiped a hand along her sweating brow. Her misery touched a chord within Sarai, and she suddenly wished her jealousy of the woman would not so often invade her desire to encourage and comfort.

“Of course I’ll take her. But I have no idea how to make this beast kneel.” She pulled on the reins, reading desperation in Melah’s face. The camel slowed and came to a stop as Melah’s did the same. The women behind her slowed as well, and she wondered how long it would take for the men up ahead to notice.

“Someone will come to help us once they see we are not moving.” She sought to reassure Melah, but a moment later the woman turned her head to the side and lost whatever food she had eaten that morning.

“I think I need to walk for a while.” But Melah looked too weak to hold herself upright.

“Perhaps you should ride a donkey instead. They might not bounce as much.” The line of men continued to move ahead without them, until at last she spotted Eliezer coming toward them.

“Is something wrong, mistress?” His dark eyes held concern with no trace of impatience.

She smiled at him. “I am fine, Eliezer. But Melah is not.” She motioned to her niece. “I need to take Kammani from her for a time, but I don’t know how to get down or reach her.” She suddenly felt helpless and determined she would learn to manage the animal despite her fear of heights. “Perhaps Melah could ride a donkey instead. The camel sways too much and is making her sick.”

Eliezer nodded. “Of course.” He commanded his own mount to kneel and hopped down, then walked over to the women’s camels and bid them do the same. Hoofbeats drew closer, and Sarai glimpsed Lot astride his donkey headed toward them. She took Kammani from Eliezer’s outstretched arms as Lot pulled his animal to a halt.

“What is the meaning of this? We are not ready to stop yet.” He glared at his wife, who stumbled as Eliezer helped her to the ground, a hand clutched to her middle.

“Your wife is ill,” Sarai said, not bothering to keep the disgust from her tone. She settled two-year-old Kammani against her chest and tucked the folds of her robe around her, breathing in little-girl scent and feeling her heart warm to the child.
Oh, Adonai
,
why do you withhold such blessing from me?

Lot grunted as he dismounted his donkey and walked to Melah’s side. He cast a glare toward Sarai, but she pretended not to see. He stopped near his wife but did not touch her. “Is it the babe?”

Melah nodded. “It will be better for me if I walk for a while.”

A look of uncertainty passed over his features, but it quickly passed. “Take my donkey. I’ll take the camel.” Though by his expression, Sarai could tell the thought did not please him.

“If it pleases you, my lord, I’d rather walk for a while.” Melah looked at her husband, her ashen face filled with something Sarai could not quite define. Longing? Irritation? Or a strange mix of both?

“Do what you want then.” Lot walked back to his donkey, not bothering to leave Melah with an option to ride later. He gave both women a cursory glance, mounted the beast, and took off back toward the men at the front of the company.

Eliezer cleared his throat, as though the whole episode had troubled him. “I will see if there is another way for you to ride, mistress. Will you be able to keep up walking?”

Melah put a hand to her mouth, and Sarai wondered if it was an attempt to hold back tears, but from where she sat, she could not tell.

“I’m fine. I can keep up, I think.”

“We’ll go slow.” Sarai nodded to Eliezer, who commanded the camel to rise. This time Sarai held on to the reins and didn’t squeal. She touched her knees to the camel’s flanks after watching Eliezer do the same and take off with one last look in their direction. The steward was a better man than her nephew by far. Abram would do well to name him his heir, to give them security should something happen to them along the way. It was the only sensible thing to do.

Evening firelight dispelled the dark veil that had quickly replaced the soft colors of sunset. Sarai’s body ached with every movement, her legs and back still feeling as though she were molded to the camel, the rocking sensation still clinging to her. Lila’s deft fingers worked the knotted muscles in her shoulders while another maid dipped a cloth in water to wipe some of the grime from Sarai’s feet.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the pampering, drinking in the scents of the fire and the flat bread baking on it. The only thing she missed was Kammani settled asleep in her arms.

A sigh worked through her as male voices came closer, and she looked up to see Abram deep in conversation with Eliezer. They paused at the sight of her. Abram sat on the raised stone beside her while Eliezer excused himself.

“How did you fare on your first camel ride?” His smile held a mixture of concern and amusement while he took in her maids’ fawning over her as if she were a queen.

Lila’s fingers stilled, and she bent close to Sarai’s ear. “I will bring you some wine and bread.” She slipped away before Sarai could answer, the servant at her feet following suit.

“You have scared them away,” Sarai said, offering him a mock pout. “But I will forgive you for it just the same.” She smiled then, leaning into him as his arm came around her. “The ride was not one I will soon forget. Perhaps I will walk part of the way tomorrow.”

“The distance is long. But if you wish to walk part of the way, I will not stop you.” His gaze traveled beyond them to the opposite side of the fire, where Lot and Melah and Kammani broke bread. “You would have more time to talk with our niece or listen to the gossip of the servants. But whatever you like.”

She turned to him, playfully smacking his arm. “You make sport of me, husband.” She lowered her voice. “In truth, I think Melah is lonely. Lot does not treat her as well as you treat me.”

A scowl formed along his brow. “He is not harsh with her, is he? I will not tolerate a violent man among us.”

She shook her head. “No, no. But he does not seem to care when she is sick. I wonder if he resents the child.”

“I think he resents the wife more than the child, dear one.” Abram leaned close and kissed her nose. “I will talk with him.” His boyish smile caused her heart to skip a beat. His dark eyes flickered in the firelight, their meaning clear. She would not sleep alone tonight.

Lila returned with two clay mugs of spiced wine, a loaf of flat bread, and a bowl of lentil stew. Abram took the mugs from her hand and gave one to Sarai, while Lila placed the bread and bowl on a rock before them and retreated.

They ate in silence for a moment, the buzz of voices mingling with the lone melody of a reed flute. Sarai sipped her wine and glanced in the direction of the sound to find Eliezer sitting on a rock almost out of the circle of light from the fire, playing the flute.

“Eliezer is a man of many talents, is he not, my lord?” Sarai watched Abram closely as she ripped a piece of bread from the loaf, dipped it into the stew, and handed it to him. “A man whose father must be proud of him, if he had such a father.”

Abram took the offering from her hand and tossed it into his mouth, his gaze thoughtful. “Eliezer has no family. His parents died soon after he married, and I already told you what happened to his wife.”

“It is hard to forget such a thing,” she said, forcing her tone to remain even despite the bitterness the thought evoked. If not for Eliezer’s hardship, they would never have known the evil of foreign kings. Perhaps ignorance of the matter would have been better, but she could never say so. “It is too bad Eliezer has no family. Perhaps we should seek a wife for him.” She held the flat bread to her lips and nibbled slowly, her expression neutral as his gaze met hers.

“Eliezer is old enough to take a wife for himself, Sarai. He does not need a father’s permission.” Abram’s mouth held a grim line, but his eyes belied a hint of amusement. “Are you suggesting someone in particular, or do you just enjoy the women’s game of matchmaking?”

She turned her head, pretending offense. “How can you say such a thing? I do not engage in such foolishness.” Though if she’d had a handful of sons by now, she would have gladly helped choose their brides-to-be. But she hid that thought, smiling into his eyes. “I simply thought how much Eliezer looks up to you, how much like a father you must seem to him, and thought you might help him get over his loss by finding another wife for him.”

Abram glanced toward Eliezer, and she noticed his shoulders visibly relax at the gentle tune coming from his simple instrument. “If I were his father, I would do just that, dear one. But a master and a father are not the same. I can suggest, if that would please you, but nothing else.”

“Perhaps you should change his status and yours.” The whispered words seemed to echo between them.

He turned in his seat, one hand loosely gripping the mug, the other resting on her knee. “What are you suggesting, Sarai?”

“Isn’t it obvious, my lord? If something should happen to us along the way, Lot would inherit all you own. But would he care for the servants or the flocks as you do? Would he care where we were buried or say the blessing over us? I would not wish to see him made wealthy on your account.” It was no secret between them what she thought of Lot’s weaknesses or Melah’s complaints.

Abram ripped another piece of bread from the loaf and looked away, his mind obviously working as he popped it into his mouth and chewed. She sipped the spiced wine again, warmth spreading through her, relaxing the tight muscles and easing the aches from riding all day. There was nothing more to be done now but wait as he pondered what she had said.