Beginnings by William Meisheid (chrysanthemum read aloud txt) 📖

his kiss still lingering on his fingertips, he anointed the child’s forehead, blessed him, and quietly prayed, “Oh God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, I trust the promise of the dreams you have given me. Save my son as you saved your servant Joseph. Protect his life. Give him a home where he, like Joseph, will find favor in your sight and in the eyes of the Egyptians who find him. Use him like you used Joseph, and save us from this oppression.”

Amram felt Jochebed’s hand on his shoulder.

“It is time.”

He turned and saw Miriam, still half-asleep, standing next to his wife. He reached out and caressed her head. Though she was only ten, she was strong for her age. Her dogged determination would keep her going through the long walk to the river. Pushing open the sling hanging from her shoulder, he placed his sleeping son into the blanket that lined the carry cloth.

“You listen to your mother.”

“I will, father.”

“And don’t start talking to yourself. Sometimes you don’t even know you are doing it. You have to be careful.”

Miriam looked down at the floor.

Amram gave her one last caress and turned to Jochebed and said, “Remember, treat the basket gently. No harm can come to the water seal before you get to the river.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” she said.     

“I know it is late, but take your time.”

“Husband, you have told me many times that hurrying causes mistakes.”

“Well, don’t forget it.” Amram called up all of his resolve, reached out, and pulled his wife close. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her hard for a long time, trying to press every bit of his strength into her.

“We must go.”

He reluctantly released her. If only he could go instead, but the demands of his work prevented it. So he picked up the basket and placed it carefully into her hands.

“Go with God,” he said. “May his wisdom guide your steps.”

Amram unhooked the lamp, placed it on the table, and covered it, darkening the room. He moved past his wife, found the door, and carefully opened it, cracking it enough to look outside. After satisfying himself no one was there, he opened it the rest of the way.

“Be careful,” he whispered as he guided them out into the night.

There was a new moon, which was why they had chosen this night. The only light came from the stars, but tonight there were clouds, which at times added to the darkness. Amram struggled to see their shadowy forms as they disappeared in the distance. When nothing moved in the dim outlines of his vision, he grew weary of staring into the darkness. He closed his eyes and listened. Eventually the sound of their footsteps faded until the only thing left was the deep silence of the sleeping village. They were gone.

 

Royal Disturbances

Tuya, startled by a sound that lingered in the disarray between sleep and wakefulness, sat up. A faint recollection of disturbing dreams hung like a mist in her memory, but they were already drifting away like the last wisp of clouds that moved beyond the horizon. Though Tuya seldom remembered her dreams, these vapors had left behind a reminder, a cold dread touching an apprehension deep within her womb.

The high windows were dark; it was the night of the new moon and the only light came from a small lamp, trimmed low and set as an offering in the shrine at the far corner of her sleeping chamber. She could see almost nothing in the murky dimness, and the stillness, broken only by the sound of her breathing, added to her sense of foreboding.

Then she heard the sound again. It was coming through the curtain that separated her husband’s quarters from hers. As she heard Pharaoh’s voice rise and fall, her trepidation turned from her own distress to his.

Were dreams also disturbing his sleep?

She waited to see if he would quiet down. Instead, his voice grew louder and suddenly he shouted, “Watch out!”

Tuya rushed from her bed into her husband’s sleeping chamber. In the dimness, she could barely make out his arms reaching toward the ceiling, grasping at the air as if he were trying to grab something.

She felt her way to the edge of his bed where she sat down and then gently took his outstretched hands in hers. She leaned forward and kissing his fingers whispered softly, “Everything’s all right. It’s only a dream.”

Seti awoke suddenly, sitting up and knocking Tuya off balance. He caught her, pulled her close, and put his arms around her. “I’m sorry," he said softly. "You surprised me. Did I hurt you?”

“No. I’m all right, but I was concerned.”

“Why?”

“You shouted in your sleep.”

“I did? What did I say?”

“At first, I wasn’t sure; you were murmuring, but then you yelled, ‘Watch out!’ When I rushed into the room you were trying to grab something in front of you.”

Seti reached up and gently stroked his wife’s face. “I had a strange dream, that’s all.”

“Tell me about it.”

He hesitated and then said, “We can talk about it in the morning.”

“You know I won’t go back to sleep if you don’t tell me. I’ll just lay awake wondering, making up things.”

“In the morning,” he said softly.

“Seti…”

“All right.”

Tuya waited, but he seemed reluctant to say anything, so she said, “I’ll just sit here and then neither of us will get any sleep.”

Seti relented. “When the dream began, it was early morning, somewhere out in the northern marshes. Ramses, who appeared fully grown, and another young man were hunting.”

“Who was with him?”

“I will tell you in a moment. The important part is that Ramses was older, and he was using his spear to face down a leopard when he was ambushed from behind. I yelled, but he didn’t hear my warning and I couldn’t reach him.”

“Someone tried to harm our son!”

“Not someone,” Seti quickly reassured her. “It was a viper that attacked him from the rear, and though I couldn’t help him, someone else saved him.”

When he didn’t say anything else, Tuya grew impatient and asked, “Was it the young man you mentioned earlier?”

“Yes.”

“Who was he?”

Seti did not answer. She almost pleaded when she asked again, “Who was the young man that saved him?”

Silence. However, as her distress increased Seti said, “He was a young Hebrew.”

Her upset quickly turned to astonishment, and she said, “A Hebrew? Same as those whose infant sons are offered every day as sacrifices to Sobek?”

“Yes, the same.”

“How can that be?”

“I don’t know, but remember, Ramses was older; he looked fully-grown. That is why I believe it was more than a dream.”

“Do you think it is an omen about the future…that he’s not in any immediate danger?”

“I don’t think he is in any immediate danger. But the dream was strange, and I’m not sure what it means.”

“The priests will help.”

“Maybe. We’ll see about that in the morning: but enough about my dream. I’m sorry I woke you.”

Tuya remembered the lingering ache and felt a shiver go through her body.

“You’re trembling. Were your dreams as dramatic as mine?”

As Seti pulled her closer, Tuya buried her face in the crook of his neck. Her husband was a strong, well-trained warrior and yet surprisingly gentle. Whenever he held her, she felt safe and protected.

Her words were almost a whimper. “When I woke up, I couldn’t remember anything, but I had a deep sense of dread, and there is an ache that still remains in my womb.”

Seti leaned over and gently placed his hand on her lingering pain. “Are you…?”

“No. But now you tell me you saw Ramses’ life threatened, and I think that might be the source of my pain. Maybe…your dream…my dreams? Maybe they are related.”

“I don’t know. It’s possible.” He reached out and pulled her close, his embrace gradually comforted her trembling, but she needed reassurance. Ever since the death of their first-born, Shaanar, two inundations ago in a chariot accident, she had become extremely protective of Ramses, their only remaining child.

Seti kissed her forehead and said what she needed to hear, “I’ll keep Ramses with me today. He can miss temple school. It will be good for him to be with me at court and learn how the priests interpret the dream of Pharaoh.”

“And he’ll be safe with you?”

Seti responded to the quiet pleading behind her words. “Yes. He’ll be safe with me.”

Tuya held onto his comforting words and gradually allowed herself to settle into his warmth. Her breathing began to slow and eventually became smooth and rhythmic as she drifted off to sleep, temporarily freed from her maternal distress.

 

Seti leaned back into the cushions, being careful not to waken his wife as he gently moved her alongside him.

His mind began sifting through what had happened: the ache in his wife’s womb and the disturbing nature of his own dream. Seti wondered whether the two together might mean more than either one alone.

Saved by a Hebrew, what a strange twist of fate. Were the gods trying to tell me something? Was Ma'at asserting herself, demanding that the balance of justice be restored, that I stop the sacrifices?

As Pharaoh, I can demand the edict be rescinded and everyone would comply, at least publicly, but the hard won religious and political peace that had brought his family to the throne of Egypt would be jeopardized. The country was finally healing from the depredations inflicted by the Pharaoh Who is Not Named and his father, may he rest with the gods, had sacrificed much to gain the support of the influential priesthoods, especially that of Amun-Ra. His family's dynasty was only in its fifth year; now was not the time for him to confront this issue on his authority alone.

If that’s what the gods want from me, they should know that one dream would not remove the opposition of the priests, especially those of Amun-Ra. If the great god is part of this, then how does he want me to handle Nephura, his Chief Priest in Memphis? He hates the Hebrews beyond all reason, and he is not the only one. The priests of the other gods would also need a stronger reason to remove their opposition. No, if the gods of Egypt wanted this change, they would have to do more, a lot more and do it publicly.

 

Overland Passage

They had rehearsed the trip several times, on the pretext of gathering reeds from the banks of the river. Though the rehearsals were during the day, no one had paid any attention to them.

“It’s so dark,” Miriam said.

The road toward Memphis was little more than a cart path swept free of rocks and debris by the passage of endless travelers.

“Don’t worry,” Jochebed said. “You have good eyes, and we have practiced the journey.”

Jochebed pictured the milestones in her mind. She had used small piles of rocks to mark where they should leave the road before they got too close to the two villages they would pass along the way. Despite the intermittent starlight, the small mounds should be visible. During their earlier attempts, it had taken about two hours to get to the river by the direct route. In dim light, it would take a lot longer, but the only thing that mattered was that they reached the river before first light.

“Mother, I can’t see very well,” Miriam said, a taint of anxiety in her voice.

“You can do it. Just take your time. Your eyes will adjust.”

Jochebed understood her apprehension. Her daughter’s growing concern about unwelcomed surprises was to be expected; the night was home to the silent predators: snakes, scorpions, and other dangerous creatures that roamed across the rocks and sands. While they had taken precautions—they had wrapped their lower legs with thick cloths for protection against the smaller hazards, and Miriam carried a long thin stick to sweep the ground in front of her—it was darker than they had expected. There were a large number of clouds, and they obscured much of the starlight making it difficult to see any dangers.

“I have to slow down.”

“It’s