Judah slapped Hirah on the back. “If you have known this, why did you not tell me sooner?” He scratched the back of his neck and faced away from his friend. Was he doing the right thing? He should have asked Kaella, but something in him still fought the idea. He lifted his chest and turned back to face Hirah. “Tamar is the one I will request. If Yassib denies me, then we will know.” He walked on, Hirah at his heels, silent.
They came to Yassib’s house and heard many female voices coming from within. Judah glanced at Hirah, who simply smiled.
Judah knocked on the door. Hurried footsteps came from inside, as if all of the women had run off to escape him. He knocked again and called, “Yassib! It is Judah ben Jacob.”
The door opened, and Yassib stood in the entry. “Judah! And Hirah! What brings you to my humble home this night? Please come in.”
The two followed Yassib and removed their sandals. A servant hurried to wash their feet, then Yassib led them to a sitting room.
“Now, tell me why you have come,” he said after they were settled on plush cushions. This man, though he had no sons, was wealthy enough to have a servant and such furnishings? How much would he want in payment for his daughter?
“I have come to seek an alliance with you—a betrothal of my oldest son, Er, to your daughter Tamar,” Judah said, hands clasped on his knees.
Yassib studied him. “Your son Er is still a boy, not a man. My Tamar is young but is old enough to wed.”
Judah nodded. “True. They are three years apart in age, but many girls wait until they are fifteen to marry. Could she not also wait a little longer until Er is ready?”
Yassib looked as if the request was absurd to him. “How ready?”
“I thought in five years, when he is fifteen.” Judah’s hands grew clammy as he looked at himself the way this man undoubtedly looked at him. He was a fool to think such a thing would be good. He should have consulted Kaella.
Yassib stroked his lengthy beard. “How much are you willing to pay to secure my daughter for so long a time?”
Judah hid a smile. The man was not so against an agreement as he had thought. “What do you require for her?” he asked.
Yassib glanced from Hirah to him, then back to Hirah. “And you are in agreement with Judah? Or are you here to convince him against it?”
Hirah lifted both hands in a gesture of ignorance. “I only told Judah that you had many daughters and that perhaps you would like having one betrothed soon. It may be hard to find so many men once they are all of marriageable age.”
“I have already betrothed two of them, and another has approached me about Tamar, though I have not given him a response yet.” Yassib drew a hand over his dark, bushy beard and looked at something beyond Judah. “And yet, I find your suggestion reasonable. If you will pay me each year that she waits your two best ewes and your finest male goat, then I think we can arrange something.”
Judah covered his mouth with one hand as he pondered the man’s request. At last he nodded and smiled. “It is a reasonable request.” Though he would lose his best mating animals for at least five years, he had secured a wife for his son, and that mattered more. “I agree. Let there be a contract between us, and when the time is right, I will send Er for Tamar.”
Yassib took a cup of wine his wife offered him, as did Judah and Hirah. The woman had slipped in unnoticed and disappeared to a back room as quickly as she had come. Kaella would hear the news from these women if he did not hurry and tell her first.
“Bring your seal, and we will stamp the ketubah I have had waiting for her betrothal.” Yassib set the goblet on a low table and stood. Judah followed, while Hirah remained to the side to witness the event.
Yassib pulled a leather scroll from a niche in the wall and unrolled it on another low table. He lifted a lamp so Judah could read it. Yassib added the agreement of ewes and goat as payment for waiting, then both men affixed their seals to the thin leather.
“It is done,” Yassib said, reaching for Judah’s shoulders and pulling him into an embrace. Both men kissed each other’s cheeks and laughed and said all of the welcoming words Judah had heard when he wed Kaella.
“Five years,” Judah said. “Our family looks forward to the day when we can fulfill this contract.”
“As does ours,” Yassib said.
They spoke a little longer, then Judah suddenly felt an urgent need to return to his family and tell them the news. Kaella . . . how would she react? And Er was so young. Doubt assailed Judah. He truly hoped he didn’t live to regret his decision.
22
EGYPT
Joseph moved through the halls of Potiphar’s house. The sounds of many servants had dimmed as the sun began its descent. He passed the weaving rooms and glanced inside. Heba was bent over a basket, where she appeared to be arranging her threads for the next day.
Joseph paused. He had spoken to her now and then, especially since Potiphar had suggested he might take one or more of the servants to his bed as his wife did with many of the servants. Had he taken Heba?
A familiar protective feeling filled Joseph, not because he thought of a future with her anymore but because she seemed so much like Dinah in their younger days. He poked his head into the room. “Greetings, Heba.”
She straightened and whirled about. At the sight of him, her tenseness seemed to flee. “My lord Joseph. I did not hear you walk by.” Her dark skin flushed in the fading light of eventide.
“I did not mean to startle you.” He stepped inside. “I was simply checking the rooms on my way to my own. I thought you would be at supper with the others by now.” Why was she still here alone?
Heba glanced at the floor, then lifted her head, but her large, dark eyes did not meet his gaze. “I was late today. Sometimes it is best for me to wait until—” She stopped abruptly and looked beyond him.
Joseph turned to see Potiphar standing there. Joseph lowered his head in respect. “My lord. I did not hear you.” He moved farther into the room, allowing the master to enter.
Potiphar remained outside the door. He shifted his gaze from Joseph to Heba. Joseph glanced at Heba as well. Her color had heightened even more, and she did not look up.
“Are you ready?” Potiphar said to Heba.
She nodded. She smoothed her hands on her tunic and walked slowly toward him. Joseph watched in despair as Potiphar took the young woman’s hand in his and led her toward his rooms. Joseph quietly moved to the room’s entrance and watched them go. Heba said nothing as Potiphar moved his hand to the small of her back.
The feeling of falling threw Joseph off-balance. He should protect Heba. He longed to run after them and wrench her from Potiphar’s hold. Instead, the helplessness he’d felt the day he was thrown into the pit resurfaced. He had no power here to stop this evil, just as surely as he could not stop Aneksi’s adulterous behavior.
Feeling ill, Joseph abruptly turned back and headed toward the stairs that led to the fields. In the open air, God felt closer, and he found a secluded spot where he could watch the stars pop onto Egypt’s black celestial canvas. What good was his life here? Why would God allow him to be sent to a place where men and women weren’t free and were at the mercy of those who owned them? He was a prince in Israel!