22

The last time Mahlah was this close to Moses was when her father lay dying. If only her father had glimpsed the serpent Moses had held high, this matter of inheriting land would have been settled. Her father would have drawn lots for a portion alongside his brothers. Being the firstborn son of Hepher, he would have received a double portion of land. Now she had to ask for something that had never been granted before. She had to ask for an inheritance, and daughters did not inherit land among the tribes of Israel.

Nemuel stalked toward the narrow aisle she and her sisters strode. His sandals crushed anyone’s feet who did not clear his path.

She scanned the crowd for Reuben, but he did not follow his father.

Set your eyes upon Moses. He speaks for God.

“What is the meaning of this display?” Nemuel flipped his ringed fingers at her sisters. “Women do not belong at this assembly. Leave at once before you bring ridicule upon our clan.”

“Our father attended these meetings.” Mahlah forced each syllable through her parched throat. “I am seeing to my sisters’ well-being. We are the daughters of Zelophehad. We stand before everyone here as a testimony to our father’s lineage. Our future needs consideration, so we are here to seek our father’s portion of land.”

Her elder scoffed. “How are you different from any other woman in this camp? If you desire land, then I will arrange a betrothal.” He lunged to grasp her arm. “Leave here at once.”

She dodged Nemuel’s fat fingers as Noah blocked their leader’s advance.

Mahlah removed her sandal and held it high above her embroidered head covering. She demanded a hearing with the leather that bound her foot. She had business to transact in this assembly. The business of a birthright.

She glanced at the closest gawkers. “We have come in earnest to claim land.”

Men gasped.

“You are mad or drunk.” Nemuel reached for her hair.

She sidestepped his attack.

“Remove yourself and return to your tent.” Elders closed in, their fists beating the air.

Noah and Hoglah gathered the young ones and stood back to back.

Slap. Slap. Mahlah beat her sandal against her palm. Slap. Slap.

The clop dulled in the dampness of her skin, but she would not retreat. She was the eldest daughter of Zelophehad. A daughter with no mother or father. An orphan. She had a right to be heard among God’s people and discuss her claim to land.

“My sisters and I are due an inheritance. We are orphaned daughters of the Most High.”

“Do you want to be struck down?” Nemuel’s hot breath swarmed her senses.

A long-nosed elder wielded a stone. She darted toward Moses, elbowing anyone who dared reach for her robe.

“Moses.” she shrieked. “I beseech you. Hear our plea.”

“Enough.” Nemuel clawed at the back of her neck. His fingernails found flesh. “Curse you and your stubbornness.”

Skin stinging, she bent her knees and let her weight drop toward the trodden soil. Sandal in hand, and hunched like a child, she crawled toward Moses’ feet.

Moses raised the staff in his hand. “Let her speak.”

“But, my lord, she has no standing here.” Nemuel glanced at Eleazar, dressed in his finery. “This matter should be decided by our clan not in an assembly.”

Agreement echoed throughout the crowd.

“Cease your complaining,” Joshua cried out.

Her challengers hushed at the rebuke.

“This woman has brought the matter to the assembly. It will not burden us to hear it.” Leaning on his staff, Moses nodded for her to begin.

She cleared her throat and prayed her voice did not fail. Giving a brief nod of respect to Nemuel, she bowed and fixed her full attention on Moses, Joshua, and Eleazar.

“My sisters and I are the daughters of Zelophehad, from the clan of Hepher, a descendant of Manasseh, eldest son of our forefather Joseph.” She allowed the names of her ancestors to rest on the ears of the elders. “Should such a lineage be lost as we enter the land promised by our God?”

A man pushed through the onlookers and stationed himself at Nemuel’s side.

Reuben! Would he be a voice of reason? He alone warned her about the counting of the fighting men. Oh, to have an ally in this place.

“We have come together to bless the lots.” Reuben spoke as if he was the overseer of the tribes. “But we are not drawing them this eve. Surely, the clan of Hepher can see to this request when the land is divided.” Reuben gave her a reassuring nod.

Did he expect his comments to be a balm?

Her cheeks grew hot. Reuben’s betrayal hummed in her ears. His father, and their clansmen, would never agree to her demands.

She stepped closer to Moses, her back to her clan’s leaders.

“If my sisters and I are not given consideration this eve, then my father’s name will not be counted among the lots.”

Another tribal elder shot to his feet. “Women cannot inherit land. This is nonsense.”

“Silence these girls, Nemuel,” another shouted.

Mahlah turned, breathed deep, squared her shoulders, and pointed her sandal at the closest men. If she wielded a sword, she would have pierced their robes. “My father deserves to be remembered among his brothers and among his clan.”

“Your father cursed God.” Nemuel roared his rebuke. “His body rots in the desert.”

She rocked backward, her bones unsteady. Her elder’s retort haunting her soul. “Hush your words.” A storm wind whirled inside Mahlah’s chest.

Tirzah began to cry.

“My…” Mahlah hesitated. “Our father grumbled at the hardship of life in the desert, but he still worshiped our God. A God we have remained faithful to in our wandering.” Mahlah turned toward Reuben as a witness to her testimony. “If what I say is true, then say it is so. Are you not our neighbor?”

Reuben might as well have been a wood carving. He didn’t utter one defense of her father. Or her.

Twitch. Twitch. Tiny tremors wracked her eyelid.

She blinked away the weakness. She would stand here even if she were deaf, dumb, and blind and fight for her sisters’ future.

“Someone, remove these girls,” a man yelled.

Chants raised in assent.

Mahlah beheld the gray-bearded leader of her people. Moses’ warm brown eyes held her gaze as if he remembered her tear-choked pleas over her father’s dying body. The leader’s face, etched with sunbaked grooves, bestowed on her the dignity of an invited guest. He lifted his staff, and the jeers rising from the crowd quieted like a brief rain.

Eleazar, sullen in expression, cast a bewildered glance at Moses. The priest remained closed-lipped, deferring to his uncle.

Mahlah slung her fancy mustard-hued covering over her shoulders. Mother, I am honoring my vow.

“Leader,” she began. “You heard my father’s charges. God did not have the ground swallow him alive like others who questioned God. My father paid for his transgressions with his life. But my sisters and I are a wellspring of belief. We hold to the ways of God.” Mahlah turned and swept an arm in the direction of her sisters, their staunch line now curved and held together by comforting arms. “Behold the faithful heirs of Zelophehad.”

“Get out.” Nemuel grabbed her arm with such ferocity, her hand numbed.

“Unhand her,” Moses demanded.

“‘Father.” Reuben’s plea muffled amidst the cheers and shouts of the assemblymen.

Moses whacked his wooden staff near Nemuel’s toes. “Fall back. This woman seeks an answer to her request from the One True God.”

“You aren’t going to grant her request?” Nemuel’s tone all but condemned their leader’s consideration.

Reuben put a hand of restraint upon his father.

Moses pounded his staff. “It is not for me to decide. The land is God’s to give. Are we not here to pray for His guidance? God’s ways are not always our ways. I will seek His counsel on behalf of the firstborn of Zelophehad.”

Lord, grant my request. Spare us any retaliation.

“But they are girls.” Nemuel appealed to his fellow leaders. “Men are stewards of the land. These girls have not fought for a single ditch. Upright men have felled our enemies. Not upright women.”

Reuben’s gaze had not found hers since he had reined in his father’s anger. Her heart sank a little lower in her chest. What if God looked favorably upon her and Reuben did not?

“Women are stewards of our land.” Fist to hip, Noah approached their uncle. “Do I not tend to our livestock? Have not the births of our lambs and kids been double that of the men in our clan?”

Nemuel balked. “Because of your cousins’ skill. Not of your own.”

“That is folly.” Noah rounded on the crowd and returned their scowls.

“Silence.” Moses raised his staff and held it above her kin. “Stop this bickering. I will bring the matter before God.”

“But they have no standing.” Nemuel scrubbed a hand across his forehead nearly dislodging his turban.

“There is no harm in petitioning God,” Reuben said. “Were we not going to ask Him to bless the lots in distribution of the land?”

Finally, a hint of an ally.

“My own son speaks nonsense.” Clicking his tongue, her elder addressed the men standing nearby. “Why not give land to all the women in this camp? Isn’t that what these girls desire?”

A crowd of elders sealed off the center aisle, barricading her sisters from leaving. Their angry shouts heaped disdain on her family name.

Mahlah’s right eye fluttered. The mass of men surrounding her made her feel like bread baking on a slab of stone. Sweat trickled down the side of her face.

She bowed her head to Moses and said, “We do not mean any disrespect to our elders. My sisters and I want to honor our father’s name. We will accept whatever God decrees. May God grant you wisdom in considering our request.”

Milcah eased forward. Her amber-brown eyes appeared too big for her slim face. A strong gust of wind could have blown her sister into the crowd.

“When will you talk to God about us?” Milcah’s eyes blinked as she faced Moses. “It is getting rather loud.”

Moses pursed his lips and cast a glance at Eleazar. “I believe with all the commotion in this assembly, my child, I shall approach our God in haste.”

“Toda raba, my lord.” Mahlah slipped her sandal onto her foot. “Shall we stay here and wait for you?”

“Do you wish to return to your tent?” Moses tipped his head toward the elders of her tribe.

She glanced above Moses at the cloud settled upon the tent where the Ark of her people waited. Where God waited between the golden cherubim in the holiest of places. Her God was waiting mere feet away. She breathed in the smoke from the many campfires tainting the air. Staring at the cloud overhead, she remembered the warm rays of sun and the comforting voice she thought she had heard when she prayed by the rock. Her tense muscles suddenly, and inexplicably, softened like pounded leather.

“I believe we’ll stay here. With God.”