Sarai (Jill Eileen Smith) (35 page)

“Hagar?” Abram’s tentative tone sent a little thrill through her, reinforcing what she had sensed, had hoped the day before. He cared for her. At least he cared for the child she carried.

She pushed aside what that thought suggested, wiped her mouth on a piece of soft linen, and rose from the floor, then took slow steps toward the tent’s door. Hunger gnawed at her, ravenous now. She lifted the flap and looked into Abram’s concerned face.

“I’m here, my lord.” She bowed her head, then looked beyond him to the sounds of many voices coming from the central meeting area.

“Good. You must put on your best robes and come with me at once. Today we will announce our good news.” His voice sounded light, like a little boy who has found a buried treasure.

She met his gaze and smiled, briefly touching his arm. “Give me but a moment.” She ducked back into her tent, heart pounding.
Our good news.
He had included her in this! Or had he? By
our
, did he mean Sarai as well?

She tucked the thought into a hidden place, unwilling to let it dampen her spirits. She walked over to the Egyptian chest she had saved from her days in the king’s palace and pulled out the striped red, black, and yellow robe Abram had given her. She quickly donned a tan tunic and wrapped the robe over it. He would grow impatient if she took too long with kohl and hair adornments, so she pulled her hair back with a large comb and draped a blue scarf over her head. Eyeing the mineral pots with a longing to make herself beautiful, she merely dabbed her finger into one and rubbed a small amount of ochre into her cheeks.

She glanced at the herbs tied to the ceiling poles above her head, snatched a bit of fresh parsley, and chewed briefly, then spit the remnants into the clay urn. She would need to send a maid to wash out the urn before the tent grew rank, but there was no time to waste. Hurrying now, she emerged from her tent, relieved to see Abram still waiting for her—alone.

His gaze took her in, and she blushed at the appreciative smile just showing at the corners of his beard. “Do I look all right, my lord?” She gave him a sideways glance, her satisfaction sure when his dark complexion took on a ruddy glow.

He cleared his throat. “You look very nice as always, Hagar.” He shook himself as if her appearance had distracted him, and placed a hand on the small of her back. “They are waiting for us.”

He ushered her toward the camp, which now overflowed with the leaders of Abram’s tribe, along with their wives and children. Hagar looked around for Sarai, spotting her sitting in Abram’s reserved spot like a princess among princes. Hagar’s heart thumped faster the closer they came to Sarai. Did Abram mean to announce the child at Sarai’s side? But of course he did. She swallowed her disappointment and lifted her chin as they at last came to stop in front of Sarai.

Abram extended a hand to his wife while Hagar stayed two steps behind him. Sarai rested her hand in his and rose with grace. Hagar lowered her gaze at the other woman’s stark perusal, but not before she glimpsed the royal clothes she wore—clothes much finer than her own, as though Abram had intended to make sure everyone there remembered the distinction between them.

But a moment later, Abram’s other arm came around her waist, keeping one woman on each side of him, nearly claiming them as equals. Well, perhaps not equals, but surely he held Hagar in honor. She raised her chin again, taking care to keep any edge of defiance from her face, while Abram called the men to order.

“I have good news to announce to you this day.”

Abram’s voice rang out over the compound while Hagar’s stomach rumbled, her hunger still waiting to be abated. She rested a hand on her middle to quell the feeling.

“Adonai has blessed my house. I am to be a father!”

A cheer erupted, and Abram laughed as Eliezer came forward. Abram released his hold on Hagar and Sarai and embraced his overseer as Eliezer kissed each of his cheeks.

“Wonderful news, Abram! May the child be blessed of Adonai.”

More men came forward, echoing Eliezer’s blessing, while the women rushed to congratulate Sarai, barely noticing Hagar. Her stomach twisted with more than hunger. She glanced around for a stone bench and sank down on it. She sensed movement and saw one of the Egyptian servants approach with a plate of flat bread, goat cheese, and thick dates.

“You did not come as usual to snatch the bread.” The woman smiled, handing Hagar the plate. “I know what it’s like during those first months. First you are sick. Then you feel as though you will never get enough to eat.”

Hagar took the food, grateful that someone had seen and cared for her plight. “Thank you.” She bit off a hunk of bread and chewed, her stomach slowly settling.

She had finished her food by the time the crowd dissipated, leaving Abram and Sarai alone again, the company going about their daily routine. They would know soon enough that Hagar carried Abram’s child, though she knew both Abram and Sarai would have told the well wishers. It was not her place as a lowly concubine to share their joy. Her son would, after all, be theirs by right.

A sense of loss filled her that she would never have a child that she could claim solely as hers.

“Thank you, Hagar.” Abram’s voice cut through her self-pity, and she looked up from where she sat, feeling his hand on her shoulder. “We owe you much.” He turned to Sarai, who stood staring down at her. Hagar met the older woman’s gaze, trying to read the myriad emotions flitting over her beautiful face. The woman never seemed to age, though her body obviously had or they would never have needed use of Hagar’s younger one.

“Yes,” Sarai said at last, her eyes suddenly filming with a thin sheen of tears. She visibly swallowed. “Thank you.” She turned quickly away and kissed Abram’s cheek. “I must see to the weaving. The little one will need many linens.” She moved away, but Abram stayed her with a touch on her arm. A look passed between them that Hagar could not read, but a moment later Sarai turned back to her. “You may join me, Hagar. It will take more than my skills to complete all that needs to be done by the time the babe is born.”

She whirled about as though the words scorched her and headed toward the tent of weaving. Hagar rose and brushed the crumbs from her robe. She nodded to Abram and moved to follow Sarai, though every part of her being screamed against the thought of spending the day in the woman’s company. Why couldn’t she be more civil? Hagar was doing her a great favor, yet Sarai acted as though she was animal dung.

Abram touched her shoulder, stopping her. His smiled warmed her, easing some of the tension Sarai’s presence had evoked. “She needs time,” he said, as though Hagar should understand perfectly.

“Yes, my lord. I suppose we all do.” She walked away, certain that given any conflict, Abram would side with Sarai over Hagar. She would have to be careful to watch her words. Her jaw clenched along with her fists as she trudged to do as Sarai had bid her.

The afternoon wore on, the sun heating the goat’s-hair tent above their heads where Sarai sat with Lila working the weaver’s loom, while Hagar turned the spindle, spinning the previously dyed wool into thread. Three months had passed since Abram’s announcement, each day showing a greater pile of material to be sewn into garments for the coming child.

The child. A tightness settled along Sarai’s shoulders, and she lifted them several times, trying to ease the tension. She glanced at Hagar, the source of her irritation. At first she had noticed only the tilt of her chin—beyond what was acceptable for a servant, as though she thought a concubine deserved some sort of respect. Then the looks had taken on an air of arrogance, though the words coming from her lips dripped with appeasement. Was the woman mocking her?

Sarai’s hand slipped on the lease rod, loosening the warp line. Lila held the slashing stick from pushing the weft into position until Sarai regained her grip. She nodded to Lila to continue, silently cursing herself and the anger bubbling inside her. She should send Hagar to work with the dyes. Let her bend over the hot liquid in the blazing heat.

But no. The woman should be protected—for the sake of the babe.

“Excuse me.” Hagar interrupted Sarai’s musings and stood. “Nature calls.”

The woman took more breaks than Lila ever did. Could it be she was trying to get out of her share of the work? Or did she prefer to be away from Sarai? As she left the tent, Sarai waited but a moment.

“Is it my imagination, or does she run off to relieve herself every hour?” Sarai stretched, rubbing her back where stiffness had set in. She looked at Lila, whose hands had stilled as she obviously waited for Sarai to continue.

“It is different for some women than for others.”

Lila’s smile seemed to hold too much pity. Sarai clenched and released her shoulder muscles, trying to ignore the ache in her middle. Would she never outlive the stigma of her barrenness? It would help if Hagar did not seem to flaunt the swell in her belly.

“Perhaps,” Sarai said, trying to mask the sudden disquiet that had settled over them. “But I don’t like the way she looks at me. She is a servant, yet her arrogance makes it seem like she is the master and I am the slave!” She lifted a hand to her mouth, realizing the words were louder than she intended. “Forgive me. I am simply out of sorts today.” She stood and walked to where the tent’s roof stopped and the open sun began.

Female laughter drifted toward her, and she moved away from the weaver’s tent to investigate the sound. She paused as she neared a group of Egyptian servants surrounding Hagar. She moved to the side, ducked behind the low-hanging branches of a willow tree, and strained to listen.

“Did you see the strut in Abram’s step when he left the campfire to work in the fields?” Hagar’s unmistakable foreign lilt carried to Sarai, cinching her already taut nerves. “I have given him what Sarai never could. In the end he will respect me for it. And when our son is grown and takes Abram’s place as head of the tribe, I will be held in great honor.” She laughed, and the Egyptian maids laughed with her. But the sound held scorn more than mirth, and Sarai could not stop the surge of anger rushing through her.

She gripped a branch for support. Her stomach clenched, and her heart beat like a thing gone wild. She drew in a breath, barely able to get it past her thickened throat. The nerve! She tried again, breathing deeper this time, and moved further behind the tree as Hagar and the maids passed. The maids moved on, depositing Hagar back at the weaver’s tent.

Sarai watched Hagar pick up the spindle and say something to Lila before she emerged from the tree’s shade and set out across the compound. Her feet crunched stones and small twigs, their sound hardly heard above the steady pumping of her heart. Abram. She would go to Abram and tell him everything. It was time the man decided just whose side he would take. The Egyptian’s or hers.

The heat of the midday sun drew beads of sweat beneath the head scarf she wore to protect her skin, but Sarai pressed on, shading her eyes against its glare. He had said he would be in the farthest pasture today, and she questioned her own good judgment at coming to him at this hour alone. What if a wild beast assaulted her? The area was safe enough as far as bandits were concerned. Abram’s men kept watch over each of the many fields where Abram’s flocks of sheep, goats, and cattle grazed. But they could not control the actions of lions and jackals and bears that prowled these hills.

A shiver passed through her, and she tightened the scarf at her neck as she quickened her pace. Hagar’s words singed her thoughts, spurring her anger. She curled her hands into fists. Wild beasts had nothing on her.

She paused for breath as she neared the rise overlooking a dip in the land that led to a meandering stream. Tall terebinth and willow trees dug deep roots beside its banks, where a line of sheep lowered their heads to drink. Others were sprawled on the rich grasses, resting. She looked over the spot, searching. She found Abram under one of the trees, leaning against the bark, his eyes closed.

His posture did not surprise her. Most of the camp rested during the hottest part of the day. Hagar and Lila would set aside the weaving and spinning and return to their tents in short order, which was exactly where Sarai would be if not for that woman! She ground her teeth and hurried down the rise toward the spot where Abram slept.