By Way of the Wilderness (5 page)

Moses scanned the three quickly, his gaze coming to rest upon his mother. She was worn and burned by the sun, and her eyes were netted with red veins. She had lost most of her teeth, and her arms were thin as sticks. She was not beautiful, yet Moses could not take his eyes off of her. He bowed and saw that all three of them were speechless. He turned then to face his father. “I am your son?” he whispered.

“Yes. God has preserved you marvelously.”

“You are welcome, Moses,” Aaron said. “I have long wished to speak with you.”

Moses studied Aaron, his mind working slowly in his confusion. “I cannot understand any of this,” he said finally. “I know nothing of you or of your lives. All I know is my life in the royal court.”

“That is natural,” Aaron said, apparently speaking for the family. “How could you know us when you have never been with us?”

“Tell me about yourself, about the Hebrews,” Moses said.

“What do you already know?” Aaron asked. He was a sharp-eyed man, highly intelligent and eager to speak. “Do you believe that we are your family?”

“Everyone knows the story of how I was found—taken out of the Nile by Princess Kali, who became my foster mother.”

“Then you must know, son, why we did this,” Jochebed said. Her voice was thin, and her eyes seemed enormous as she gazed at her tall and robust son. “So many boy babies were being killed. I prayed, and God told me what to do.”

“Which god?” Moses asked.

“There is only one God,” Aaron said quickly. “The God of all the earth.”

Moses considered this, then asked, “Where did all of you come from?”

“Our family came to Egypt many years ago to escape a famine in our land. Our ancestors were men of great wealth, and for a time we prospered here, for one of our ancestors had risen high in the pharaoh's sight. But when that pharaoh died, another pharaoh came, and gradually we were enslaved by the Egyptians.”

Moses studied his brother, who was tall and well built, with a neatly trimmed black beard. “Why is it that you are not permitted to worship the gods of Egypt?” Moses asked.

“We came here not as prisoners but as free men at the invitation of the pharaoh himself,” Aaron explained. “We have kept our identity as Hebrews and worship the only God. We have records of every child that has been born.”

Moses was astonished by this. “Every child? But that must be thousands.”

“Yes, the records are extensive, but it is necessary to preserve the history of the family lines. We keep them in secret places out in the desert.”

“Why do you maintain your family lines so carefully?”

A glow appeared in Aaron's eyes, and he lifted his hand in a victorious gesture. “Because one day, Moses, we will no longer be slaves. Our forefathers have prophesied to us that the day of our redemption will surely come. Every true Hebrew looks forward to the day that our servitude in Egypt will be over.”

“How can you know all this?”

“As I told you, we keep records. Our elders have now reckoned that the four hundred years foretold by one of our forefathers, who was a prophet, is almost finished. When the end of that period comes, we will be redeemed from our slavery.”

“What is the name of your god?”

Moses saw his family react oddly to this. Amram shook his head slightly but did not speak. His mother explained, “We never speak His name, but He is the only God.”

Moses studied his mother and said finally, “There once was a god in Egypt like that. A pharaoh wanted to replace all the gods by a single god named Aton, but after that pharaoh died, all the temples he had raised to Aton were destroyed and his name was rooted out.”

“The God of our fathers is not like the gods of Egypt. They are made by the hands of men or created in the minds of men. The God of our fathers is the only God. He is the God of our forefathers Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”

Moses had a burning desire to know more. “Please tell me more of the history of our people.”

Miriam cried aloud with delight. “
Our
people! You believe, then, that we are your family and you are of the Hebrews?”

“Yes, I know it is so,” Moses said, “but other than that, I know so little.”

“Our elders could teach you everything,” Aaron said. “I myself could teach you much, but it would be dangerous for you, Moses.”

“Yes, it would,” Miriam agreed. “You are watched constantly.”

“I know,” Moses said. “The high priest hates me, and the people do not trust me. They call me ‘The Stranger,' yet I must know more. Teach me now, my brother.”

Moses sat down on the dirt floor, and Aaron sat facing him. Aaron's face was alight with pleasure as he began to speak. “Our history begins with a man called Abraham. He was an idolater and had no children, but the only God spoke to him and promised that his offspring would one day be as numerous as the stars in heaven….”

****

Moses found himself returning to the Hebrew slave camp often, spending many hours each time with his brother. He soaked up the stories of the forefathers of the twelve tribes of Israel, men like Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He was amazed at the detail Aaron knew of these ancient ancestors. Indeed, careful records had been kept over the centuries, for the Hebrews believed that their god had chosen them for a special purpose.

Moses was drawn to the Hebrews in a way he could not explain to himself, but he realized this interest had always been inside him. He had never felt like an Egyptian, no matter how high his position in the court, and now the stories of the heritage of the descendants of Abraham and the concept of one god over all things and all people consumed him.

One afternoon as he walked along the streets of the Egyptian capital, lined with its palatial homes and elaborate temples, he looked around at the opulence he saw and could not help contrasting it with the poverty and misery of the slave camp. He was stirred with a feeling he could not identify, but he knew it had something to do with the injustice Aaron had spoken of.
The Hebrews have been unjustly enslaved,
he thought.
They were not captives of war but came here as free men, at the invitation of the pharaoh, and yet now their lot is miserable
.

His thoughts were interrupted by his mother's voice: “Moses, come here.”

Looking up, he saw Princess Kali and went to her at once. She was the one thing of Egypt that he loved and honored. He took her hand and bowed low before her. “Mother, how are you?”

“I am worried, my son. Where have you been?”

Moses suspected that Kali already knew. “I have been to the slave camp to speak with my brother, Aaron.”

“Do you not know that the priests and his spies are well aware of your frequent visits there?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“Of course it matters. They are looking for something to use against you.”

“Then they will have to use it, because I must go back.”

Princess Kali started to speak but realized it would be useless. Since the time he was very young, Moses had been obedient to her slightest whim—except for a few instances. She had seen an iron will in him and knew that at this time it would be useless to try to talk him out of his visits to the Hebrews.

“There's someone I want you to meet,” she said instead.

Moses gave her a quick look. “And who is it, Mother?”

“A princess from Babylon. Her name is Olani.”

“Let me guess,” Moses said with a smile, then laughed loudly. “She's here looking for a husband.”

“She's merely here on a visit.”

“Oh, come now, Mother. Pharaoh wants to make an alliance with Babylon. We both know that. Everyone knows that.”

“That has nothing to do with this young woman. She's a very lovely creature.”

“I am sure she is. Bait is often quite attractive.”

“Moses, you must meet her.”

“Very well. I will if you insist. But I will not marry her.”

Princess Kali heard the finality in her son's voice. “Very well,” she said wearily, “but you must stop your visits to the slave camp. It's too dangerous.” When he did not answer, she shrugged. “Come, then, and meet Princess Olani.”

As a member of the royal court, Moses had long been aware that the economy of Egypt was largely based on slave labor. He had often paused to watch the slaves building Pharaoh's palatial cities and gigantic burial pyramids, but he had never seen them as human beings. They had seemed more like oxen or donkeys.

Since Moses met his family, however, his perspective had changed, and when he went out at midday the day after Olani left for Babylon, he was drawn by an irresistible force to the brickyards where the materials for the construction were created. As he approached from the height of a slight hill, he saw the long lines of slaves below, appearing like serpents snaking across the brickyard. He could not make out individual workers from this vantage point, but as he moved closer, he took in the endless lines of slaves bearing yokes on their shoulders, some of them were bringing water from the river and others bringing clay from the banks.

Moses smelled the sweat of thousands of emaciated bodies toiling under the sun, but he also sensed the broken spirits of the men. He walked toward the pits where the loam was dumped and straw added to it. Water was poured in, and the bony slaves began treading out the materials, their naked bodies practically immersed.

When this was completed, other slaves drew the clay mixture out from the pit in buckets and hauled them to the brick makers, who fashioned the clay into bricks and laid them out to bake in the blazing sun.

Moses moved silently among the laborers. From time to time a slave would lift his eyes but would quickly avert them from Moses' gaze. Several times Moses would see an Egyptian taskmaster raise his whip and beat the naked back of a slave until the blood ran down to mix with the clay.
These men put their own sweat and blood into these bricks,
Moses thought.

He talked to one of the taskmasters, who boasted to the prince that the failure to produce the assigned number of bricks was not charged to any single worker but to an entire group, and at the end of the day the entire group was lashed if the tally was lacking. The daily count of bricks was carefully kept by scribes, who never failed to inform the taskmasters when the count was low. A chill went through the prince's soul as he listened to the callous bragging of the man.

The more Moses witnessed, the more his heart swelled with anguish, and his eyes blazed with such anger that he had to lower his head to keep his feelings from showing. Another thing he discovered, and which chilled his heart even more, was that not all of the taskmasters were Egyptian. Some of them were Hebrews. Every line of slaves had a Hebrew guard, and these guards drove their fellow Hebrews on as cruelly as the Egyptian overseers. His thoughts screamed out the injustice of it—
Hebrews helping to make slaves out of their Hebrew brothers! This is wrong!
The cry rose from his heart, but he did not allow it to drop from his lips.

Moving away from the brick-making area, Moses discovered another form of servitude. Slaves with matted hair and sweat pouring down their bodies were harnessed to each other by long ropes, throwing their combined weight into the task of pulling an enormous stone to which the ropes were harnessed. Atop each stone sat an Egyptian scribe, shouting commands to drive the slaves onward.

In the past Moses had observed such work from a distance but had never allowed his heart to acknowledge that the massive group of slaves was actually made up of human beings. Now as he moved among them, he discerned individuals. One man had lost an eye, another a hand—but they still performed their tasks. Even as Moses watched a frail old man with white hair who was assigned to throwing in the chopped straw, the slave suddenly reeled under the relentless heat of the sun and fell to the ground. When he could not be roused, one of the guards cursed and struck him in the head with a metal rod with a large metal ball on the top. The old man's skull broke, and the bright crimson blood stained his white hair. Gritting his teeth, Moses watched as the Egyptian continued to curse the man even after he was dead, kicking the lifeless body as if the old man had done something terribly wrong.

Most of all Moses was shocked by the faces of the slaves. Through long tangles of hair, their eyes were fixed expressionlessly on the ground, like the eyes of beasts enduring cruel torture. From time to time Moses saw the signs of rebellion in a slave, in his eyes or in his stiffened back, but the taskmaster was always quick to pick up on such behavior and apply additional whippings. By day's end, several slaves lay dead from the intense labor under the hot sun.

The visit ignited a flame in the heart of Moses, Prince of Egypt. Were these his brothers? His flesh and blood? His kin? Why were they subjected to such cruel treatment? The injustice of it flamed within him, and his anger turned on himself for letting so many years pass without a thought of his people. His lips trembled as the fury in him burned like a glowing furnace. He had heard tales from those who traveled widely of mountains that for centuries had appeared serene and idyllic but had without warning exploded, casting fire and burning mud high into the air and destroying everything about it. Now Moses felt like one of these mountains. He would not be able to contain the anger in his heart that was smoldering unseen. Sooner or later it was going to burst forth.

****

“Prince Moses is here, sire.”

Jafari, the high priest, was having his evening meal. He hated to have his meals interrupted, for he had a fierce appetite, his corpulent body even sweating from the effort. “Show him in,” he grunted.

As soon as Moses entered and bowed, the high priest snapped, “I sent for you yesterday! What took you so long?”

“What can I do to serve you, master?”