25

Days later, nothing had changed, yet everything had changed. Land had been granted to her and her sisters in their father’s name, but regular duties continued. The daughters of Zelophehad set to their tasks in haste and in silence as warriors trickled into camp from the battle against the Midianite seducers.

Hoisting a water jar onto her shoulder, Mahlah headed toward her tent. She wound through pathways where women and children labored. Since the assembly, Nemuel had not spoken to her. No elder of Manasseh, nor any other tribe, publicly chastised her fortitude, for no elder dared to malign Moses or their God.

Praise be.

Her own cooking courtyard brimmed with activity. Without complaint, Basemath and Hoglah stoked the small acacia wood fire. Milcah and Tirzah ground manna, heads down, wrists twisting in earnest.

Jonah jumped off a sitting stone and charged like a bull toward her legs. He reached for a lift.

“I cannot hold you with one arm,” Mahlah said. “I will spill this jug of water.”

“I thirsty.” Jonah swiped a hand across his forehead as if sitting had been strenuous work.

Mahlah laughed. “Did your aunt and Hoglah push you into labor?” She set the jar by the tent lead.

“If only I could set that boy to a task.” Basemath rose and dipped a cup for a drink. “I pray my brother hurries home from war.”

“We pray for Reuben and all of our fighting men.” Mahlah pressed her lips together. She did not want to remember the harsh words spoken at the assembly. How could any of the men of Israel have known what God was going to bestow upon her family? Daughters had never been granted an inheritance. Until now.

She wished to remember only the acknowledgement of her presence which Reuben had given before going off to fight. He could have ignored her and rushed off with her cousin Helek. Instead, Reuben made her believe that a few of the tattered threads in their relationship had been mended.

Jonah tugged on her robe and pointed to the basket of manna. “Bread?”

The boy’s expectant thick-lashed eyes were a vision of his father’s. Reuben’s son not only tugged on her garment, he tugged on her heart. She took his hand. “It looks like we have enough ground for a feast.”

Hoglah set the flat cooking stone over the fire. “God has blessed us abundantly this morn.”

“So, it seems.” Mahlah stroked Jonah’s soft curls. “It won’t be long. Hoglah has been busy.”

Smoke from the crackling acacia wood filled Mahlah’s nostrils. A grayish haze fell over the small area abutting their tent.

Three men ambled toward their cooking courtyard.

Were they to have visitors? Mahlah’s pulse quickened. What business needed discussing at this hour? Was land to be distributed to the tribes?

A young man opened his arms to her as if he were her groom. “See, what did I tell you? The daughters of Zelophehad are hard at work.”

Shuni. Straight away, Mahlah recognized their friend from the tribe of Asher. “Greetings.” She nodded at Shuni’s brother and another man with whom she was not acquainted. Why had Shuni brought a stranger? Though she had been granted land, she did not have the standing of a male head of household in her tribe. She also did not have a brother to oversee any arranged visit. “What takes you from your herds?”

“We come with gifts from my father.” Shuni held up a skin and a satchel. “Wine and melons. Both are sweet.” He ticked his last syllable. “We must celebrate your blessing.”

Hoglah strolled toward their visitors with a host’s smile. Perhaps this wasn’t business? Abundant manna indeed.

With a disguised lunge, Mahlah blocked her sister’s sashay. She tipped her head. “And who have you brought to our tent? We have not been introduced.”

“My kinsman Ehud is a fine herdsman as well.” Shuni patted his cousin on the back. “His camels are well-trained.”

“None are smarter.” Ehud gave Mahlah a gap-toothed grin.

“I am sure.” Her stomach sank. A camel trainer dressed in an unsoiled robe could only mean one thing. Ehud had come to impress her sisters. Of all the times not to have a father. Did these men not understand the perilous position they were instigating? An invitation to sup would fuel gossip among her clansmen. She had no male relatives present save Jonah. Her right to land was secure, wasn’t it? God had spoken her inheritance to Moses. Moses proclaimed her right in an assembly. She had not summoned these men or broken any laws. They were in public, no less.

Hoglah stepped beside Mahlah. “Your clan’s camels helped us on our march to Moab.”

“Yes, indeed.” Shuni shifted closer to the sitting stones.

Please do not sit.

Jonah wedged himself between Shuni and the nearest stone. Thank goodness hunger ruled Jonah’s belly.

Basemath sneaked her nephew a small piece of bread. “Are you not needed to fight the Midianites?” She slapped another cake of moistened manna onto the stone. “I heard Moses chose men of fine standing to attack the heathens.” She brushed the dough from her fingertips with loud claps. “You are still here.”

Shuni’s brother widened his stance. “Our strength will be needed to fell the walled cities across the Jordan. We will wield our swords like none other and overcome the land like locusts.” He raised a fist as if already celebrating victory.

“You are not the only fine swordsman, brother.” Shuni jostled Ehud and pretended to unsheathe a sword. “All of us have seen battle.” Shuni’s sandals scuffed ruts into the dirt as he feigned lunges at Ehud.

Were these suitors or playmates of Jonah’s? Mahlah withdrew closer to the fire lest these silly men fall into the flames.

Ehud ax-chopped Shuni’s shoulder as he simulated a lethal blow.

Shuni dipped and clutched his chest. With swift motion, he poked an air-forged blade at his cousin.

“Me, too.” Wide-eyed, Jonah climbed over a sitting stone and ran to join the lighthearted game.

Ehud leapt sideways, crushing Jonah’s small sandal.

“Ow.” Jonah clutched his leg and began to cry.

Fools. Mahlah bent to grab the boy.

Off balance, Ehud swung his arms and tried to keep himself upright.

Whack!

Ehud’s elbow smashed into her cheek.

She plopped on her tailbone as gracefully as an overfilled sack of grain. Her face throbbed. Her pain was not imaginary like their feigned battle.

“Sister!” The shriek came from the wide path.

Noah and Jeremiah jogged to her aid. Her sister handed a skin brimming with goat’s milk to Jeremiah and leaned forward to assist her.

Ehud’s gaze inspected every curve of Noah’s form. “Is she a daughter of Zelophehad?” His giddy grin drew Mahlah’s ire.

And Jeremiah’s.

Jeremiah slung the milkskin and hit Ehud in the nose.

Ehud raised a fist.

“No.” Mahlah leapt to her feet. She spread out her arms and placed a hand in front of each man. She had to keep Ehud and Jeremiah apart. “There will be no fighting in this household.”

“No figh-ting,” Jonah echoed. The boy mimicked her with his arms stretched wide.

“What is going on here?”

Nemuel? Oh, no, no, no. Why now?

Mahlah’s skin tingled as if she’d huddled too close to the fire. She hadn’t seen her neighboring elder in days.

Turning, she clenched her teeth and let the bruising ache from Ehud’s folly throb through the side of her face.

“Who are these men?” Nemuel halted a few feet from her visitors, his nose wrinkled like a prune.

No one answered.

Everyone’s gaze bore into her. How could she appease an elder’s wrath?

“Um.” The once pleasant smoke irritated her throat. “These are the men who offered us assistance when we traveled in the desert. They were passing by our tent.” True, but even a fool could see these men sought more than a casual “Shalom.”

Shuni strutted forward, straightening his turban. “We come bearing gifts for—”

“Gifts! What gifts?” Nemuel’s eyes bulged as if Shuni had slandered his name. “This is unacceptable. You do not belong among our tents. Where is your father’s clan?”

Mahlah glanced at her sisters. They watched stone-still and thin-lipped by the fire pit. They appeared more afraid of Nemuel’s arrival than when they stood before Moses and the assembly.

Hands on hips, Shuni said, “I am Shuni ben Beriah, from the Imnite clan of Asher.”

“We do not answer to you.” Ehud’s stare strayed toward Noah.

“You will answer to me in this section of the camp.” Nemuel stomped his sandal. “I am a leader of Manasseh, firstborn of Joseph, and I will seek counsel with your tribal elders if you do not leave at once.”

Rubbing her temple to keep the throb in her jaw from traveling to her head, Mahlah shifted to stand alongside their leader. She had no choice. God had bestowed land on her family, but they still belonged to the clan of Hepher.

“Please,” she said. “It was kind of your father to send us gifts, but I ask that you honor my elder’s request. Your visit is all the blessing we need this morn.” She bobbed her head and beheld the men of Asher with respect, even though they had trampled her courtyard with their raucous behavior.

Shuni back-stepped a few paces. His brow furrowed. “I’ve heard stories of how you beseeched Moses in the assembly. I do not see a strong woman this day. All I see is a foolish girl.”

His insult hung in the air. Nemuel did not challenge it, nor did her sisters. Shuni had impaled her heart with his imaginary sword. And if that wasn’t enough, he twisted the blade.

Her cheek pounded in pain. What did this man know of her strength? Had he challenged Moses and the tribal leaders in an assembly?

She stomped toward her tent and grabbed the wineskin. She shoved the skin into Shuni’s chest. “I’m not thirsty.” Grabbing the satchel of melons, she hurled it at Ehud and his cousin. “Nor am I hungry. Your fruit is not sweet.” She made sure to tick off her last syllable and mimic her visitor. “May you leave us be. This. Day.”

Shrugging, Shuni turned his back on her and urged his brother and cousin onward.

Nemuel let out a grunt of consternation. “What is the meaning of all of this commotion?”

Their elder demanded an answer regarding their visitors, but no matter what excuse she gave him, he would see what he wanted to see in the matter.

“I wish I knew.” She beheld Nemuel like a trusted advisor. “We were going about our duties, and then all of a sudden, these men were fighting a fake battle.”

Noah retrieved the skin of milk from Jeremiah and traipsed toward a stone near the fire. Jeremiah followed Noah like a lost lamb.

“You cannot hold Mahlah responsible for the whims of those fools.” Noah settled onto a rock and began pouring milk into cups. “They were too bold to come here and cause trouble.”

Nemuel tapped his foot. He glowered at the shepherdess.

Jeremiah rolled a larger stone closer to Noah.

Did Noah believe she was lounging in a pasture?

Mahlah shook her head and regretted it. Her jaw ached.

Nemuel huffed at Noah. Loudly. “Why must you interrupt? And why must you drag that lame calf of a man with you?”

“My son is not lame.”

Mahlah whipped around in the direction of the deep voice. Abishua stalked toward his kinsman. Shoulders broad and arms crossed, he appeared a daunting sight.

God, spare us another fight, real or feigned.

“The daughter of Zelophehad you addressed has tended flocks with my son for many seasons. You agreed to the arrangement.” Abishua glanced at his son. “So did Zelophehad.”

Trying to match Abishua’s stature, Nemuel narrowed his stance. “That girl is of marriageable age.”

“I believe you have an unmarried son, as well.” Abishua cocked his head. He motioned for Jeremiah to join him.

“Daughter,” Nemuel shouted to Basemath. “Your mother has need of you.”

Cheeks growing scarlet, Basemath wiped her hands on a cloth.

Only then did Mahlah spy Jonah with a mouth full of manna. The boy had traded imaginary battles for filling his stomach.

Veil pulled low, Basemath grabbed Jonah’s hand and followed her father.

How had a calm morning turned into condemnation? Shuni came as a friend, but his insult cast him as a foe. Thankfully, Reuben was fighting the Midianites and not shadowing his father, but then she would guess he had already heard bountiful slander regarding her reputation.

Tirzah leaned against Mahlah’s leg.

“I wish you had kept the melons.”