Till Shiloh Comes (28 page)

Joseph felt the pangs of apprehension, for whatever good qualities the pharaoh might have, tact and gentleness were not among them. “He's worse than a bear rushing at someone,” Joseph said in despair. “I could have handled this if he had kept himself out of it!”

****

Pharaoh did
not
keep himself out of it. As always when he got an idea in his head, all other things became unimportant. The first hint Asenath had of the matter was when her father came in to see her with a strange look on his face. When she asked, “What's the matter?” he hesitated. “What is it?” she pressed. “Is someone ill?”

“No, it's not that,” he said. “But I … I have some news from the court of Pharaoh.”

“Oh, what is it?” she asked, now only half-interested. Her father was always getting news from the court, and most of the time it did not matter to her in the least. “A messenger from Pharaoh has come, and he has news … concerning you, Asenath.”

“Concerning me? What news?”

Potiphera licked his lips, reluctant to speak for fear of how his strong-willed daughter was going to react. However, there was nothing he could do but spit it out.

“Well, it's good news, if you'll choose to look at it like that.”

Asenath stared at him. “Just tell me what it is, and I'll decide whether it's good news.”

“Yes, of course! Well, the fact of the matter is, Pharaoh has favored you with his attention.”

“He favors criminals with his attention, having them hung by their heels from the wall to be eaten by the crocodiles.”

“Don't be foolish! This is
good
news.”

“So you keep saying, but you won't tell me what it is.”

Potiphera cleared his throat, then blurted out, “He has decided you are to be married!”

Asenath stared at her father in utter consternation, and her jaw dropped open. “Married! Married to whom?”

“He … he hasn't said yet.”

“It's another one of those political marriages!” Asenath's voice rose with anger. “He probably wants to marry me off to some seventy-year-old Nubian who's wrinkled like a mummy.”

“No, maybe not.”

“You don't think he's interested in my well-being, do you? It's always about cementing political alliances. That's what these court marriages are. You can't let him do this to me, Father.”

“Asenath, be reasonable! He's the pharaoh!”

“I don't care who he is!”

Potiphera stared at his daughter in frustration. “Please don't say that, Asenath! What if someone hears?”

“Well,
he's
going to hear if he tries to force me to marry some mummy!”

Potiphera did not know what to do. If his wife were alive, she could have better handled emotional things like this. But he knew something had to be done. He walked over and took her hand, and when he lifted her face, he saw that she was crying. He put his arms around her and comforted her, then kissed her cheek, something he did not do very often.

“I can't do it, Father—I just
can't
!”

At that moment Potiphera, the high priest of On, wished he were in some other profession, far removed from the court of Pharaoh Abadmon. But he had been in politics a long time, and he knew that the situation was unavoidable. “You must do it, my dear. I'm so sorry. If I could do anything to stop it, you know I would.”

Asenath wiped away her tears. She shivered slightly and said, “When will this happen?”

“The … pharaoh is waiting right now. He wants to see us both.”

Asenath straightened her back. Her face was pale, and the tears had left streaks on her face. “Let me wash and anoint myself, and then we will go.”

“Maybe it won't be so bad, my dear.”

“Oh no, Father, it
will
be bad!”

****

Pharaoh greeted the high priest and his daughter with a broad smile. “Welcome to you both.”

Potiphera wanted to protest the Pharaoh's decision and defend his daughter's right not to marry a man of Pharaoh's choosing, but he saw that the king was jumping with delight over his decision.
The pharaoh is always happy,
he thought grimly,
when he's meddling in someone's business or making life miserable for others
.

The pharaoh mistook Potiphera's silence for approval and said with a broad smile, “I assume your father has told you of my decision, Asenath.”

“He has told me, Your Majesty.”

“It is the will of the god that you marry, and I know you are an obedient daughter.”

All the way to the palace Asenath had struggled with the thought of marrying some old mummy, and now she burst out, “O Majesty, Lord of Egypt, please do not force me to go through with a marriage!”

Pharaoh stared at her in astonishment. “Do you not understand? I have already commanded it shall be so.”

“Please, do not force me to marry a man I do not love.”

Pharaoh suddenly laughed. “Oh, is that it? I would have thought you had gotten rid of those romantic notions when you were fifteen or sixteen. But don't fret yourself, my dear. Marriage is a contract like any other. I'm sure you will find my selection suitable.”

Asenath pleaded again, “Please, Your Majesty, do not force me to marry.”

“You
must
marry,” Pharaoh said with irritation. “You are wasted as a woman. Surely you can see that.”

“I agree, O Great One, that I have waited too long to marry. But I beg of you to let me make my own choice.”

Pharaoh was astonished that this woman was challenging his decision! “No, I have decided,” he said sternly. “You must love the man I choose for you.”

“But, Your Majesty, I can't make myself love a man!”

“Enough!” Pharaoh shouted. “I
command
you to love him! I am displeased! You have spoiled my surprise!” He turned toward the door and called out, “Joseph, enter!”

Asenath watched Joseph enter, and she puzzled over the strange look on his face.

“
This
is the man I am commanding you to marry, Asenath,” Pharaoh bellowed. “There are thousands of women who would be overjoyed at such an opportunity. He is far above you. He is the second in the land of Egypt. I
command
you to love him!” The Pharaoh turned and said, “Joseph, come here.”

Asenath stood stunned as Joseph approached the throne. Pharaoh took his hand and then hers. “Hold her hand, Joseph. I command you to love her.”

Joseph smiled. “I willingly obey my king, and I will love you, Asenath.”

Asenath whispered, “The king must be obeyed.” Joseph's hand was warm, and she remembered how thrilled she was before when he had held her hand. She looked up at him and saw that he was smiling at her. He winked, as he had winked after shoving Lostris into the mud, and Asenath felt a sudden gladness that somehow Joseph was behind this! She knew it with all her heart, and as he held her hand, neither of them listened to what the pharaoh was saying. Finally they heard him declare, “Your marriage is arranged by a god, so it will be good. Go and love each other. I have commanded it.”

Asenath felt herself led out of the throne room into the outdoor atrium. As soon as they were outside, Joseph turned her around and said, “I must tell you something, Asenath.”

“What is it, Joseph?”

“I must tell you that I loved you long before the king commanded me. Perhaps you don't love me, and I know you cannot love simply because Pharaoh commands it, but I will make you love me.”

Asenath was no longer crying when he put his arms around her and kissed her. She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with an emotion so strong she could hardly contain it. It was the feeling she'd had as a child when she had run to her father and he had put his arms around her. But now she knew she had found far more than a father. In their embrace they entered into the same mystery other men and women face when they marry. None can ever know for sure what good or tragedy will come of it. As he held her tightly, she said, “I am looking forward, Joseph, to your art of making me love you.”

Joseph laughed and lifted her completely off the stone floor. He made several turns while she squealed and clung to him. Finally he put her down and put his hand on her cheek, which was smooth as silk. “I believe the pharaoh was right.”

“About what, my beloved?”

Her words struck deep in Joseph. “Your beloved! That's what I am, and you are mine. I believe the pharaoh spoke truly when he said a god arranged our love—but it is not the god-king of Egypt. It is the true God, El Shaddai, the Lord of all the earth.” He kissed her again and held her close, and she clung to him. “He made the first marriage, and I believe he will bless this one.”

Joseph reached out and took the red-faced screaming baby from the midwife. He held him up to the light and smiled as he studied the face. Then he knelt beside Asenath, who was weak and pale after her ordeal.

“You have given me another son, and he is as beautiful as his brother, Ephraim.”

“Let me see him,” Asenath whispered. She took the squalling infant and cuddled him next to her breast. “He is beautiful, isn't he?”

“Yes, he's red and wrinkled and hasn't got a tooth in his head,” Joseph said with a smile. He stroked her hair, which was damp with sweat. “And he is as beautiful as you, my dear.”

Joseph turned and said, “Come, Ephraim, and see your brother, Manasseh.”

The three-year-old came quickly. He was a strong boy and already had the look of Joseph about him. He stared at his new brother and wrinkled his nose. “He's so red!”

“So were you the first time I held you in my arms.”

Joseph reached out and put his arm around Asenath. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “You fill my life, my dear, and you've given me two fine sons.”

“And you have been my true husband.” Even after the pain of her labor, a light danced faintly in her eyes. “The pharaoh commanded you to love me, and you promised to practice the art of making me love you.”

It is a matter they had teased each other about throughout the early years of their marriage.

“And have I made you love me?”

Asenath reached up and laid her hand on his cheek. “You are my true love,” she whispered.

They looked at the infant and then Joseph said, “The good years are gone, and we will now have the lean, terrible years of famine.”

“I know,” Asenath said, “but you have labored so hard, and you, my dear, will save Egypt.”

The Blessing

The smoke rising from the small fire drifted into Tamar's face, blinding her for a moment and causing her to turn away and cough violently. Her eyes watered, and she wiped them with the sleeve of her dress; then she turned back to look down into the pot. “I've boiled you for half a day and you're still tough as a sandal,” she muttered. Tamar picked up a knife and probed the meat, muttering, “Soften up, you stupid bird! I don't know what things are coming to when the master has to eat a thing like this.”

Tamar had killed the bird earlier with a stick and had wrung its neck, plucked it, and dressed it. The animal had been weak and starving and was therefore an easy target, but it did not promise to make an appetizing meal. She sighed heavily as she poked the boiling fowl again with her knife.

Tamar had made a place for herself in the camp and had become closer to Jacob than any of his many daughters-in-law. She had pitched her tent close to his, where she could attend to the old man's needs, and he had become quite fond of her and her twin boys. Judah stayed as far away from her and his two sons as possible. Tamar knew he was still ashamed of himself for having sired two sons with his own daughter-in-law, and she expected no attention from him. It was not a husband in her bed she wanted—only Judah's seed to carry on the line of the Redeemer.

She glanced around the camp and noticed how lackadaisical everyone seemed. There was really no danger of them starving in the near future, for they had goats, sheep, and cattle, but they had lost a great many of them during the long drought. Many of the animals had died for lack of water and others were so skinny they were hardly worth dressing. The crops they had planted had failed, and the grass had dried out to dusty strands that the herds and flocks could barely subsist on.

The sound of laughter and children's voices floated by, and Tamar looked up to see her boys, Perez and Zerah, playing a game. They already bore signs of looking like their father, Judah, with the same dark curly hair and soulful eyes—though, thankfully, they had not inherited the red-rimmed lids passed down from Leah.

Tamar tended the bird for another half an hour before it was soft enough to eat. She took it out of the water, cut the meat from the bone, put it on a plate, then rose and took it to Jacob's tent. The sides of the tent were tied up to catch every bit of the breeze, and she found Jacob sitting on the thick carpet, staring out into space. “I've got you a nice dinner here, master.” She smiled and put the plate down before him. “And I've saved some sour goat milk that you like so much.”

Jacob looked up, and although the hard times had further aged his lean, leathery face, he still had a smile for the woman. “What is it, daughter?” he asked.

“It's a bird I knocked down. I'm not sure what kind it is, but it will be a change for you.” Tamar smiled and knelt down beside him. She opened the leather bag of sour goat's milk and poured some into a cup for him. “Eat up, now. You need to gain some weight.”

Jacob picked up a morsel of the meat and tasted it. “It's good,” he said. “You always know how to cook different things.”

“I know you get tired of the same foods all the time.”

“I think we all do,” Jacob said. He took a sip of the sour milk, smacked his lips, and wiped his mustache with the back of his hand. Wistfully he said, “What I wouldn't give for some fresh green onions or leeks.”