23

Mahlah and her sisters huddled near the entrance to the Tent of Meeting. More men had joined the assembly, swallowing the center aisle and crowding the open spaces in front of the holy tent cared for by the priests. Men. Everywhere. Men. Squabbling. No doubt re-telling her request of Moses and raising a raucous. The stares of the leaders stationed near her sisters held no sympathy for the orphaned girls. Their mouths snarled. Their nostrils flared.

Her cheeks flamed. How dare these elders disregard her claim. Didn’t the same blood that pulsed through Nemuel’s veins, pulse through her body? Her bloodline heralded Joseph, Jacob, Isaac, and Abraham.

Reuben strutted forward. He carried a waterskin and cups.

Her heart assaulted her ribs but not with the normal, pleasant flutter that accompanied Reuben’s presence. Her friend had defended his father and his own station above her petition for land.

She edged away from her sisters.

Reuben thrust the waterskin into her hand. “I cannot believe you betrayed me. I sent word, so you could prepare your household, and now my father fears for his life.”

Nemuel could handle a few disgruntled men. No uprising would occur with Eleazar in his jewel-laden ephod perched outside the tent and Moses kneeling in prayer beside it.

She stiffened at the perusal of Reuben’s dark eyes. No compassion glistened in his gaze.

“What did you expect me to prepare my sisters for? Servitude?”

“A customary future with a husband.” Reuben dangled the cups in front of her face.

Noah reached in and grabbed a cup. “I’ll take those and the skin. You two keep squabbling.”

Mahlah crossed her arms and glared at the man who had always harbored a quiet wisdom.

“Have you forgotten about marriage and obedience, Mahlah? About the reputation of our clan? I could go on. But you don’t seem to listen to reason anymore.”

“Anymore?” She fisted her hands and fought the temptation to lash out. “In all the years you have known me, when have I been unreasonable?”

He bent low, so his breath blew in her face. “Leaving the camp in the dark of night. Strolling among unclean men. Need I go on?”

“All of that I did to take care of my sisters. And I would do it all again.”

“You took on the role of an elder, of which, you are not.”

“I took on the role of a firstborn, of which I am.” Her voice rasped a defense.

Reuben straightened and drew away from her.

Good. At this moment, she did not want to be near him. In all her years, had she ever had that thought? She glimpsed her sisters drinking water and whispering. Her place was with them.

Turning her gaze upon Reuben, she battled any twitch threatening to mar her fierce tirade. “Where were the elders of Hepher when my father needed comfort? What elder counselled my father when frustration ruled his senses?”

“Do not blame the clan of Hepher for your father’s sins. He alone led a charge against God. Your father abandoned you. His clan has remained steadfast.”

“I will not abandon my sisters. I vowed to my mother to keep watch over them, and that is one vow I will uphold until I take my last breath.”

Reuben beheld her like a stiff-necked elder. “Did you learn nothing from your father’s disobedience?” His voice was smooth as an Egyptian’s robe, but it pierced her soul.

“Yes, I did.” She struggled with her answer, coaxing every syllable from her quivering lips. “I learned that God will provide for me and my sisters. Shalom.” Stepping away, she turned and took the waterskin from Noah.

“I’ll pour.” Noah retrieved the skin. “Your hands are shaking. Too bad we don’t have something stronger.” Arching her eyebrows, Noah’s gaze fell to Reuben’s haughty stature.

“Do not worry, Sister. He is one man.”

Mahlah’s heart constricted. She had loved that one man since she was a child.

Before she could swallow her refreshment, Moses stood with the help of his staff and turned toward the assembly. The din of male voices hushed.

Mahlah choked and gasped for air.

“God is punishing her,” a man bellowed.

Noah patted Mahlah on her back. “I never thought them such fools.”

Calming her cough, Mahlah led her sisters forward. They knelt before Moses, hand in hand, a chain of orphaned girls.

“Daughters of Zelophehad,” Moses called in a loud voice. He raised his staff like a scepter over the crowd. “The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob has heard your plea.”

Mahlah’s fingers went numb where she grasped Hoglah’s and Milcah’s hands.

Moses scanned the assembly. “Leaders of Israel, hear these words from our God. If a man dies and leaves no son, his inheritance shall be given to his daughters.”

A rush of gasps filled the stale air.

Had she heard Moses correctly? Would they receive a plot of land in their father’s name? Her body felt as if it floated above the soil.

“This day,” Moses continued, “the inheritance of Zelophehad, son of Hepher, shall be given to his daughters. His offspring shall inherit property among their father’s relatives.”

“Praise be to God.” Mahlah rose, her arms outstretched toward Moses. “Thank you, my lord. My heart overflows with blessing.” Her eyes moistened with joyous tears. “Praise God.” She embraced her sisters with abandon.

“What good is your praise? No man will have a bold nag as a wife,” a bystander shouted.

Moses stomped his staff. “Listen to God’s words. If a man has no sons or daughters, his inheritance shall then go to his brothers. Or to his father’s brothers. This is God’s ordinance.”

Head bowed, Mahlah prayed. “The Lord is my God, and I will praise Him; my father’s God, and I will exalt Him.”

“Praise God.” Tirzah jumped to her feet and waved her hands in the air. She hopped in a circle, dancing.

“Let us rejoice in this word from God,” Eleazar, the priest, pronounced. “These five women sought the counsel of the Almighty and have been rewarded for their wisdom. After a time, we will pray over the lots.”

Moses closed his eyes and began reciting the Shema.

“Here O Israel, the Lord is our God. The Lord alone…”

Mere feet from where Moses had spoken with God, Mahlah joined her sisters arm in arm, and swayed, their head coverings askew, their mouths open wide, laughing reverently. Their future was secure.

“Love the Lord your God.” Our God. “With all your heart and with all your soul…”

“And with all your might,” Noah added.

“The name of Zelophehad will be remembered in Canaan.” Tears pooled in Hoglah’s eyes.

“We have been granted land.” Mahlah kissed Hoglah’s cheek. “We can remain a family.”

She pressed her hands together and bobbed her head toward Moses, Joshua, and Eleazar. Her kinsmen, Abishua, Nemuel, Reuben, and Eli, stood shoulder to shoulder forming an unapproving wall.

Two men approached their circle.

“See. It is her. I told you.” The tall, thin man elbowed the other. He opened his arms. “You do not remember us? Perhaps if I had my camel?”

“The men from the tribe of Asher,” Noah whispered.

“I remember, Shuni.” And she remembered the shock of finding him among her sisters. If only that pagan thief, Balaam, had not stolen their goat and distracted her. “You helped my sisters carry our load. Toda raba.”

“Perhaps we shall come visit and help you cross the Jordan.” Shuni rocked forward on his sandals as if he was prepared to start the journey right then and there.

“You are always welcome.” Hoglah smiled at the tall Asherite.

“We should leave you men to the business of blessing lots.” Mahlah gave a brief nod to Shuni and his brother. “Shalom.”

She bowed to Eleazar and ushered her sisters toward the entrance to the Tent of Meeting.

Men let her family pass, but a glower of distrust followed her sisters.

God had been faithful in abundance. She had His pledge of land in an amount to support five orphaned women. Praise be.

A short distance from the gathering place, Mahlah halted. She lifted her hands toward the stars. “Let us give thanks to a God who gave wisdom to a daughter of Jacob. May He guide us into the Promised Land.”

Her sisters raised their hands in praise.

Mahlah beheld a vibrant star. A star that brightened and then faded into the shadowed heavens.