Till Shiloh Comes (11 page)

Joseph patiently listened as Ahmed spoke of Potiphar and his wealth. In ten minutes the fat man came back and said grudgingly, “The master will see you now.”

“Why, thank you, Ufa. Your manners are exquisite.”

The two men followed Ufa into the house and into a high-ceilinged room with a sunken marble pool. A man rested in the water who was as large, tall, and fat as his servant Ufa. His head was shaved, and under the rolls of fat on his face, he showed signs of having once been handsome. “What sort of awful merchandise have you brought me this time, Ahmed?”

“Oh, sir, you must always have your joke,” Ahmed bantered, but he bowed low and touched Joseph, who knelt at once and touched his forehead to the ground. “I am in somewhat of a hurry, master. Couldn't we just eliminate all the bargaining? Each of us knows the ways of the other, and your time is so much more valuable than mine.”

Without even glancing at Joseph, Potiphar studied Ahmed carefully. A black servant girl, dressed only in a tiny bead costume, was fanning him, her large eyes fixed on Joseph.

“That thing?” Potiphar laughed, and his eyes almost disappeared. “Why would I want a scrawny fledgling like that? He wouldn't last a week in the fields.”

“You are exactly right, master. That is why he would not go to the fields.”

“Oh? What would he do, then?”

“He can do your accounts. He can write in four different scripts. He knows languages like no one I've ever seen. As far as the ability to figure, you have no one like him. In short, he is the perfect scribe and a fine-looking young slave too, when he gets some meat on his bones.”

Interest flickered in Potiphar's eyes, and he said bluntly, “How much?” He listened as Ahmed named a price and shrugged. “You may leave, Ahmed. Obviously you have no intention of selling the slave. No one would pay such a price. I'll pay half.”

Joseph remained perfectly still as he watched the two men argue. Eventually Potiphar crawled out of the pool and was toweled down by a male servant, who was fully as tall as Potiphar but thin as a rail. He was also lighter skinned than an Egyptian and had an intelligent face. He wrapped a robe around the master as Potiphar continued to dicker with Ahmed. Finally the servant leaned over and whispered something into his master's ear. Joseph saw Potiphar look in his direction with greater interest, and Joseph knew that whoever the tall slave was, he had great influence.

“I'm too busy to argue. Shave your price and we'll agree.”

“You always win, sire. Very well.” And he named what he insisted was his final price.

“It's twice what he's worth. Ufa, pay this thief the money. Now get out of here, Ahmed. I am used to dealing with crooked thieves in the government, but you put them all to shame.”

Ahmed bowed and touched his forehead with his hand. “Thank you, sire. I think you'll find you got the best of the bargain.” He turned to Joseph and said, “Joseph, I have done you a favor.”

“And I thank you, sir.”

“You see,” Ahmed glanced back. “The boy already has manners.”

“We'll see about manners. Now get out.”

Ahmed went away with Ufa, and Joseph was still on his knees. “Get up, get up!” Potiphar said irritably. He slumped down on a chair and glanced up at the thin servant. “This is Masud. He thinks you look like a bargain, but we shall see. Masud, put him to work in the fields.”

“But, master—” Masud objected.

“You heard me!” Potiphar bellowed. “I won't have a slave that can't work.”

“Yes, my master.” Masud mumbled something, and Potiphar looked at him quickly.

“What did you say?” he demanded.

“Nothing, sire.”

“Turn him over to Ufa.”

“Yes, sire. Come along, Joseph.”

“Yes, sir.”

Masud and Joseph left, and when they were far away from Potiphar, Masud said, “It's foolish putting you to work in the fields, but Potiphar has to show his authority. Work hard. Be obedient. I think you will not be there long.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Be careful of Ufa. He likes to show authority too—with a whip!”

****

Joseph quickly discovered that Ufa was a cruel taskmaster. He put Joseph to work in the fields with the other slaves from sunup until sundown. There were days when Joseph nearly fainted, for he had led an easy life physically. He gritted his teeth and stuck with it, however, doing his work so well that Ufa had to find fault with him about other things.

Some days he put him to the task of emptying the slops and dealing with the garbage that came out of the large kitchen, sometimes having him help the kitchen maids wash the dishes. He was out to break Joseph's spirit, and he tried every trick in his book.

If it had not been for Masud's ongoing advice and encouragement, Joseph would probably not have made it. The tall scribe was not only intelligent, he was shrewd and did all he could to ease Joseph's burden.

Two weeks after Joseph arrived, Masud appeared and said, “Come with me.” Joseph had been working hard in the fields and was dirty and covered with dried sweat. His limbs trembled, for the work was terribly hard. He followed Masud outside to a large marble pool used to wash clothes. It was full now with clear water, and Masud said, “Jump in there and wash yourself off, Joseph.”

Gratefully Joseph peeled off his clothes and submerged himself in the water. It was comfortably tepid, and as he scrubbed himself with the sponge Masud provided, he began to grow very tired. Finally he laid his head back against the side of the pool and allowed his body to float. He was nearly asleep when Masud poked him. “Things will be better from now on.”

Joseph jumped and opened his eyes, alert again to his superior. “What do you mean, Masud?”

“I finally convinced Potiphar that it was a waste of talent for you to be working in the fields. He knew it himself, but he's stubborn.”

“What's he like, Masud? He's married, isn't he … ? So I've heard the slaves speak.”

“Yes. But his wife is not around much. She stays at a town called On much of the time. She has a good friend there, the daughter of the priest of On. The two are inseparable.”

Joseph ducked his head under the water, then rose up and let it drain off his hair. “What does the master do for Pharaoh?”

“Whatever Pharaoh says. He's not in the very upper rungs of government, you understand. I would say maybe in the fourth rung, but Pharaoh knows his name and has shown favor to him.”

“Do he and his wife have children?”

“No. Never will have.”

Joseph looked quickly at Masud, whose face was blank. “You mean she's barren?”

“No.
He
is the problem.” Seeing Joseph's look of surprise, he said, “Shortly after they got married, we began one of those pesky wars with the Hittites. Potiphar was sent out with the army, and he was wounded.”

“Seriously?”

“Very seriously for a man who wants children. He lost a very important piece of equipment. He is a eunuch now, for all practical purposes—an accidental one.”

Joseph thought hard about that and then shook his head. “That must be very difficult.”

“Difficult for his wife. She's doomed to a life of chastity, and …”

“And what?” Joseph asked.

“Well, she is a young woman, and women have their desires the same as men. As you say, a tragedy. Well, come. Get out of there, and we'll get you some fitting clothes. You're to be my assistant, and I'll be as hard a taskmaster as Ufa.”

“I doubt that”—Joseph grinned—“and you won't be half as ugly.” He scrambled out, and Masud looked over to where two of the Nubian slave girls, wearing scanty beaded costumes, were watching Joseph and giggling. “I wouldn't advise you to have … relationships, shall we put it? with the female slaves. It could lead to difficulty.”

“I believe you and it shall be as you say.”

Masud looked at the two sleek, shining young woman and shook his head. “It won't be easy. Those girls have no more morals than a cobra. Come along, boy. We'll get you started on your new profession.”

Kesi-el-Mutan, whose name meant “Woman of the Lilies,” had been beautiful since childhood. But now that she had reached the age of twenty-two, she was carefully dressed and pampered by her maids until her full figure and striking features were enhanced by the well-developed Egyptian cosmetic arts. Her face, with its high forehead and shadowy hollows in the cheeks, would not have been considered classically beautiful by the artistic elite, but any man who looked on her visage was so taken by her enormous eyes and sensuous mouth that he had no thought for comparisons with other women. As head of Potiphar's household, she was inevitably a spoiled darling, and her every command was as though from the master's lips.

And yet for all her attractiveness, there was something missing from her countenance. Her expression revealed a deep dissatisfaction with her life, despite all her pampering. Masud, who studied her as he did every member of the house of Potiphar, understood the source of her discontent:
She needs a man in her bed
.

Some women are careful to keep company with women less beautiful than themselves to elevate their own attractiveness, but Lady Kesi had no problems with the beauty of her best friend, Asenath, who was closer to her than any sister of blood. Asenath had a classic beauty—honey-colored skin, large well-shaped green eyes, beautifully shaped lips, and a way of moving that was enough to stir the heart of any man who watched her. Both of these two women were secure enough that each did not fear any competition from the other.

The two of them had been in the court of Pharaoh for some time, waiting to be summoned into his presence. Late one afternoon they were given the summons, and they arose and went immediately into the throne room of his majesty Pharaoh Abadmon. The two women bowed continuously as they were ushered before the pharaoh and his wife, prostrating themselves before the royal couple until ordered to rise. As they stood up, they saw the afternoon sun streaming through the high arches of the throne room and flowing down over the faces of the pharaoh and his wife, Isiri. The couple they faced, seated on gold thrones above them, represented the formidable might of the royal household of Egypt.

Pharaoh Abadmon was not an attractive man. He was undersized with a protruding belly and a frog face with small eyes and a pinched mouth. But his wife was one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom. Isiri's beauty was such that she felt no jealousy over the beauty of the two young women standing before her. She smiled and said, “You two are like sisters.”

“More than that, Majesty,” Asenath said quickly with a slight bow. “Many sisters do not care for each other, but Lady Kesi and I were brought up together and love each other very much.”

“Indeed.” Kesi smiled and turned to look fondly at the woman beside her. “We seldom passed a day in our entire lives when we did not see each other.”

Pharaoh Abadmon nodded. “It is good to have close friends.” Then he sighed heavily and shook his head. “The pharaoh, unfortunately, cannot have such a friend.”

“Indeed not!” Lady Kesi exclaimed. “For friends must be equals, and who could be equal to the god-king of Egypt?”

“Very true,” Isiri said, “but it means a lonely life for my husband.”

Pharaoh Abadmon proceeded to talk at length about his difficult life as the god-king and how he was more important than all the gods put together. His wife nodded politely, agreeing that the weight of responsibility of ruling Egypt was far too great for any mere mortal to bear, and that only a god such as he could possibly live up to the task. Lady Kesi and Asenath nodded their heads too, taking their cues from Isiri to agree with every word the pharaoh uttered. The polite talk continued until the pharaoh addressed Lady Kesi directly. “Tell your husband I expect him to come to court soon. We have missed his presence.”

“He will be overjoyed, Your Majesty,” Lady Kesi said, bowing low.

The pharaoh clapped his hands, signaling that the audience with Lady Kesi and Asenath was over. Two guards approached at once to escort the ladies from the throne room.

Leaving the pharaoh's presence was a challenge. One could not simply turn around and walk away. It was necessary to back up and at the same time bend over, making obeisance, but the two women had developed a choreography that made even this difficult and ungainly exercise look graceful.

When they were outside the throne room and the two guards left them alone, Kesi stood up straight and put her hands over her ears. “It is so difficult,” she uttered quietly, “to listen to the pharaoh. All he wants to talk about are the gods and how he is the highest of them all!” She leaned close to her friend and whispered, “Just to look at the man, you know he cannot be higher than the gods … but I would lose my head if he heard me say that.”

Asenath laughed. “Well, you had better watch your mouth, then, Kesi. It is not worth losing your pretty head over such a man! You must learn to be thankful that you are even allowed into his presence.”

“Bah! I have enough else to do in my life to keep me occupied.”

Asenath looked around to make sure that no one else could hear their conversation. “You and I had better not let the god-king hear such heretical comments!” she said under her breath. “And the next time he calls for us, you know as well as I that you will come bowing and fawning before him just as you did today.”

Lady Kesi smiled at her friend. “Of course you're right, Asenath. You and I are not going to change the way things are.” As they walked toward the litters that were waiting to take them back to Potiphar's house, she shook her head. “You would think the gods could at least produce a handsome offspring, instead of that potbellied frog face!”

The two laughed, and Asenath agreed. “The gods should indeed be handsome. There's enough ugliness in this world among humans and animals.”