Apparently Ima would not be so easily convinced. Tamar had spent far too many days alone, and she felt the sadness of it grow by the day. She needed the company of family. She just hadn’t planned on it being with her family of birth. Marriage had not turned out to be at all what she had imagined.
“That would be nice,” she said. “Now what is this news that is so important I must stop my work?” She glanced at her sister.
“Judah’s wife Kaella has died,” Donatiya said, a frown creasing her brow. “Some say she never got over the deaths of her first two sons.”
Kaella gone? Tamar sank onto a stone ledge, for her knees had weakened too much to hold her steady. “When?” She looked at her mother, who had surely been the one who first heard the news.
Ima stopped her grinding and brushed the dust from her hands. “Two days ago, though the news only reached us this morning at the well. The nerve of Judah to keep that from us! We are family, after all.”
“There is nothing tying us to him except me, Ima,” Tamar said. “I’m sure he is in shock and grieving.” He had only Shelah left to comfort him. A sense of sorrow filled her, not only for Kaella to lose so much that it apparently took her life but also for Judah to lose so much. Did he blame her for Kaella’s death as well?
“You know, Shelah has been of age for you to wed for months. Judah should have called for you by now.”
Her mother’s words did not surprise her. Tamar had kept track of the months until a year had passed. Plenty of time for Judah to bring her back to his family.
“I don’t think Judah intends for me to marry Shelah,” Tamar said softly. She twisted her hands in her lap, looking at calluses she had acquired from working the threads each day.
“He would be breaking the contract with your father if that is true,” her mother said, her tone holding the disgust she had often shown toward the man since Tamar’s return.
“I can’t force him, Ima.” She couldn’t very well walk into Judah’s camp and insist she marry Shelah. It wasn’t her place. And her father had made no move to act on her behalf. Did he also believe her cursed because of the deaths of Judah’s sons? If he did, why not get her out of the agreement and allow her to marry another?
A deep sigh came from her mother. “I know you can’t, dear girl. The gods know I have tried my best to get your father to speak to the man on your behalf, but now . . . he will never go and ask such a thing with Kaella so soon in the grave.”
“He didn’t even tell us so we could mourn with him,” Donatiya said, coming to sit beside Tamar. She placed a hand on Tamar’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, my sister. Something will change for you soon. You cannot lose hope.”
Donatiya was always the cheerful sister, and Tamar forced a smile to appease her. But her heart still carried the weight of sadness. If she had remained in Judah’s camp, she might have given Kaella some hope. Then again, if both Judah and Kaella blamed her, she might have brought about greater pain for them.
“If only Father would break the contract. Perhaps someone would have me, widowed or not.” Tamar knew she now carried a stigma that would never leave her. She would die alone and childless, just as she had feared back in her room. She rose slowly. “Thank you for telling me about Kaella, Ima. I will mourn for her. Perhaps in time, Judah will see that calling me back to marry Shelah, once the time of mourning is past, is the best thing he can do.” She turned to walk the short distance to her room.
“I will be surprised if that man ever changes,” Donatiya said in an uncharacteristically bitter tone.
Tamar tried to ignore the words. Unfortunately, her sister was right about one thing. Judah was a stubborn man, not unlike his sons. His sons were evil whereas Judah was simply obstinate. Maybe she truly was better off without them.
EGYPT
Joseph stood patiently as his manservant finished placing the gold chains about his neck and the thick bracelets on his arms. He’d at last grown used to being dressed by another, though he often wondered why he needed such help. But if having servants do the work for him allowed them to earn food to eat and clothes to wear, so much the better. He would not deny a man his wages for his work.
“There,” Ahmed said. “You look as royal as Pharaoh, my lord. Well, almost as royal,” he amended.
“Thank you, Ahmed.” Joseph smiled. “You have done well.” He walked through the halls, poked his head into Asenath’s rooms to bid her farewell, and strode toward his chariot. Normally he would travel to a few cities, then meet with Pharaoh to discuss what he’d found. But this morning Pharaoh had requested his presence in the audience hall, and he was not one to disobey.
He hopped into the gleaming gold and white chariot with red stripes along the sides and sat behind his driver. The man bowed to him, then took the reins and led the way through the streets of Memphis.
Pharaoh’s palace was just a turn of the corner from Joseph’s connected estate. Joseph loved the way it caught the rays of the sun, the gold glimmering like a glassy sea in early morn. Blue and gold and a small mix of red and green made up the bricks of the building.
The chariot stopped in front of the wide white doors, and Joseph alighted and took the grand steps to the portico that surrounded the building. Guards stood watch holding tall spears, dressed in military garb. They stepped aside at Joseph’s approach and allowed him entrance with a bow.
The great hall that led to the throne spread out before him, and he glimpsed Pharaoh sitting there waiting for him. Joseph walked forward, head held high, and came to kneel before Pharaoh.
“You may stand, Zaphenath-Paneah. Come, sit beside me.”
The pharaoh was younger than Joseph, which always struck Joseph as strange. He felt like a father to the man, though he was actually more the age of an older brother. The king had reigned as co-regent with his father, then on his own before Joseph came to Egypt.
“Thank you, my lord,” Joseph said, climbing the steps and taking his seat next to Pharaoh.
“I trust things are still going as my dreams suggested? We are securing a great quantity of grain as before?” He glanced at Joseph but did not hold his gaze.
“Yes, my king. The numbers are recorded at each granary, and we are still building new ones. In only three years, we already have enough grain to feed all of Egypt. Should the famine begin early, your people will not go hungry.” Joseph still felt a sense of awe every time he inspected the yield and spent nights with Hamid trying to find new places to house it all.
“We will be able to feed the rest of the world if your god continues to provide at this rate,” Pharaoh said, this time holding Joseph’s gaze. “I expect the famine will strike more than just Egypt. When that time comes, we will gain the wealth of all the nations around us.”
Joseph nodded. He had considered this. “We will charge them as we will the Egyptian people. I would imagine that the years of plenty are happening in other lands as well, but God revealed to Pharaoh His plan to save many people when that time comes. We cannot know whether He revealed that same truth to the leaders of other lands.”
“If He did, then I hope they are as wise as you are. If not for your wisdom, even Egypt would not have thought to preserve during these times of prosperity.” Pharaoh clapped his hands, and two servants appeared with a gilded box and placed it in his hands. He shifted in his seat and handed the box to Joseph. “This is for you. My thanks for what you have already done.”