Abimelech’s steward immediately encouraged Urim to settle among them, and it was not long before Warda was called in to entertain special guests from Egypt.
Gerar had many of the refinements of Egypt. Its houses were of cut stone, and it had quiet courtyards filled with flowers and pools. However, the king was often bored, and at such times he sought out people who could distract and entertain him. Urim soon became one of his favorites. It was always the same request; he wanted to hear more of his many adventures. Most of all he plied him with questions about his travels with the rich and wise tradesman known as Abraham.
On this particular day, Urim had come up from his camp to Gerar and was stopping by the palace before going home. He had brought some aged-to-perfection cheese to the open courtyard that was used as the king’s kitchen.
He could tell they were expecting a special guest. There were spits with whole sheep turning on them and bakers shaping and thrusting bread into hot clay ovens. Over in a sunny corner, some old women sat picking the stones out of cracked wheat that would be mixed with drippings from the lamb and cooked with bread in the hot ovens.
Urim placed the cheese before the burly fellow in charge of the cooking. “Who is the favored guest this time?” he asked.
“Some very rich, very important fellow who has sent the king wonderful gifts of honey, sheep, and choice figs.”
Urim was curious. “And this ‘very rich’ man’s name?” he asked as he picked up a circle of bread, opened it, and drizzled into it olive oil followed by a sprinkling of herbs. Urim liked good food. As he went from place to place marketing his cheeses, it pleased him to stop in good cooking areas to taste the specialties for the day. He knew better than to sample the special food being cooked for the king and his guests, but bread, olive oil, and herbs were plentiful and he was welcome to as much as he wanted.
“Some wealthy man named Abraham,” the baker said, holding the basting stick in midair while he talked. “He has tents like a small town and flocks that graze over the whole countryside. He has been very generous with the king.”
Urim smiled and took two big bites to finish the bread, then quickly wiping his hands on his robe, he excused himself. “So, at last the king is going to meet the man he is most curious about,” he chortled, “and I’m the one who can give him all the information he wants. He’ll be glad to see me today.”
Being a person who moved cautiously among his betters, Urim took care to send a message to the king, suggesting that he had important news for him. As he had thought, it was not long before he was ushered out to the king’s balcony. The king, an elderly man of great size, who spilled over the edge of the large cushion he sat on, was checking the household business with his steward.
“Urim, my friend,” he said, without looking up from a clay tablet he was studying, “what important news do you bring?”
“I see you are at last having your wish to entertain the mysterious tradesman who camps out under the stars.” Urim rubbed his hands together nervously. “I think you envy him his freedom.”
Abimelech frowned. In spite of his gray hair and beard that suggested a ripe old age, his bare arm showed muscles that still rippled, and his legs were strong and as well shaped as those of a younger man. He was robust and hardy and was noted for keeping all twelve of the women in his harem constantly pregnant. He had more than one hundred children and an untold number of grandchildren. However, for all his prowess and strength it was his wit and wisdom that made fast friends of all who knew him.
“I don’t envy anyone living in tents,” the king said. “I’m surprised he didn’t stay in Egypt. I hear he had connections with the pharaoh. So why did he leave?”
Urim recognized this question as a probe for information, and he skillfully tried to avoid saying anything Abraham would not approve of. “What connections do you mean?” he asked.
“Why, I’ve heard his sister was actually taken into Pharaoh’s harem and also that he was given one of Pharaoh’s own daughters as a concubine.”
“Yes, yes,” Urim said, trying to edge away from such a dangerous subject. “He was a special friend of Pharaoh.”
“I have also heard that he has had a son by the Egyptian woman. This would, of course, be a grandson of Pharaoh.”
“Amenemhet favored him above all others.”
“What is there about this man that a pharaoh should be so interested in him? Was it his wealth?”
“At first,” Urim said with an air of importance, “it was his wealth and the fact that he was well versed in the wisdom of Chaldea. Later, after the pharaoh knew him, he himself was the fascination.”
“Ah yes, he’s not just a scholar. I heard how he rescued the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah from the Elamites. It’s indeed amazing. Melchizedek has told me all about it.”
“Melchizedek,” Urim said, “you know him?”
The king didn’t answer but continued to study the clay tablet. Finally, when it was obvious that the cheese maker was getting very uncomfortable, he said, “You have done well at avoiding my question. There must be some very interesting scandal connected with our illustrious trader, his sister, and Pharaoh. Am I right?”
The king looked up at him with a penetrating gaze that totally unnerved Urim. He backed up and bowed as though to leave but was surprised by two eunuchs who suddenly appeared behind him. He was trapped. The question was one he dared not answer.
“So I’m right. It was the sister that made them leave Egypt. No doubt she’s ugly and plain.”
“No, no,” Urim objected, “it’s quite the opposite. She’s very beautiful.”
“I know how it is. Pharaoh wanted to have the closest ties with Abraham, family ties, but …”
“Sarah,” Urim sputtered, “she’s very beautiful. Too beautiful.”
“Then what went wrong?” The king was getting impatient with Urim.
Urim saw that it would be no time at all before the king would have the information out of him. Abraham would never forgive him. He had to think fast. “My lord,” he said, “these are private matters a simple cheese maker is not privy to.”
The king studied Urim for a few minutes and then waved him aside. “Never mind. I intend to invite Abraham and his family to live in Gerar. I intend to give them houses and servants or whatever they want or need. You can be sure that I will make a point of seeing this sister who is so beautiful.”
That evening as Abraham and some of the men from his camp sat with the king of Gerar in his roof pavilion, they were impressed with his generosity. He had spared nothing in his effort to make them welcome and comfortable.
Abraham feared that the king would object to so many people with their tents and animals moving into the free lands and using the wells. However, he received nothing but words of welcome. More than that, the king asked him to consider spending some months in the city of Gerar. Abraham could not understand why the king put such an emphasis on their moving to the city. Stranger still, he made bold to mention that their women would be welcome at the palace.
Gradually Abraham understood his motives to be above reproach. Undoubtedly the king felt that they could be a help to each other. He could supply the king with food, and in return the king could let him stay with his flocks and tents on the Negev’s free land.
Three months had gone by since Abraham’s encounter with the mysterious visitors. In that time only one of the predictions had come true. Sodom and Gomorrah had been completely destroyed, but the other prediction of a child for Abraham and Sarah didn’t materialize. Sarah noticed a few encouraging signs, but when nothing further developed, she told Abraham, “I’m probably wanting it so badly I’ve imagined the symptoms.” She had known several childless women who had imagined a pregnancy. Their bellies had grown huge and they had the sickness, but nothing ever came of it.
“Even if I were expecting a child, who would believe it?” she said. “I would be scorned and laughed at.”
Nevertheless Abraham made a special effort to ple
ase Sarah. When she wanted certain wild herbs to season her bread, he had the whole camp searching until they found them. When she wanted fresh figs, he bartered with a man who owned a fine fig tree. When she wanted to accept the king of Gerar’s invitation to move into the city, Abraham could not refuse her. “Perhaps it is better to live in a comfortable house. If there is to be a child, this would be better.”
At that time a great, unforeseen tragedy overtook the house of Urim. He was at the height of his popularity and prosperity, but life for Urim would never be the same again. There had been many caravans coming from various places with an assortment of travelers. Some were traders, others miners being taken to work in the mines of the Sinai, and still others diplomats from the court of Pharaoh. The trouble occurred during one of these visits by a diplomatic entourage.
Because they were from Egypt and spoke only Egyptian, Abimelech asked Urim to bring Warda to the palace to help entertain the wives of the prominent men. One of the dignitaries, an older man with cold, calculating eyes, came to the court of the women and watched Warda with growing fascination. “How is it this beauty is found so far from Egypt?” he finally asked the king. “Who is her husband?”
The king quickly informed him that she was married to a cheese maker, a clever fellow who had come by her while in Egypt. “She is indeed the joy of his life and the delight of his heart.”
“Do you think he would consider parting with her?”
“He has little use for gold, and Warda is his prize possession. I doubt that you would be very successful.”
“But the girl, she is wasted here. In my house she would have the clothes, jewelry, and servants that she deserves.”
The king shrugged. “You could talk to him, but I would guess he would never consider such a thing.”
“So he would be difficult, you think.”
“Very difficult.”
“Then it may take other means. I have thought of nothing else since I first laid eyes on her.”
The king leaned back among the cushions and studied the Egyptian for a few moments. “I see that you have indeed been charmed by her beauty.”
The Egyptian fingered his pectoral jewels. “Perhaps you have in mind to take her for yourself,” he said with narrowed eyes.
The king motioned for his cupbearer and drank leisurely, wiping his mouth finally on his sleeve before answering. “I do not choose women for their beauty,” he said. “I have my harem full, and each one has come with some political or practical advantage.”
“Then you do not lust for her?”
“No, no, I’m too ambitious and cool-headed to look twice at a woman who could bring me only cheese.”
The Egyptian was momentarily puzzled. “Then you have already decided not to have her.”
The king handed his cup back to the cupbearer in one slow, deliberate movement, “Of course, I don’t object to a woman’s being beautiful, but my first concern is the advantage she can bring me.”
“I don’t understand,” the Egyptian said. “You are a king. What can any woman give you that you don’t already have?”
The king folded his hands over his protruding stomach and leaned forward, his eyes bright with the challenge of the Egyptian’s question. “First,” he said, “I look for a woman who can give me information. A woman who has lived in some great leader’s harem, a woman who knows all his secrets. Next, I form alliances by marriage. They are the strongest, the most binding agreements. You might say the woman is almost a hostage if things go wrong.”
“Then, of course, you are not interested in the concubine of the cheese maker.”
“No, no,” the king said, leaning back among the cushions, “I have other, more interesting projects in mind.”
The Egyptian didn’t forget Warda. His desire for her grew into a veritable fever, and he could neither sleep nor eat for thinking about her.
As he realized his entourage would be leaving in two days, he became frantic. He first sent a messenger to Urim, stating his desire to take Warda with him and promising to pay whatever the cheese maker might demand.
To his surprise, the servant returned, saying that Urim simply laughed and said no amount of gold would tempt him to give up Warda.
When the Egyptian heard that, he was more determined than ever to have her. In a frenzy of frustration he sent one of his wives to the palace where Warda was entertaining some of the wives. “Persuade her to come with us,” he told her, “and I will give you whatever you ask.”
Warda simply smiled at the Egyptian wife’s request. “I am content,” she said. “I love Urim and his wife. I have many friends here.”
When Warda returned home and told Urim, he was disturbed. “The man isn’t to be trusted,” he said. “You must not go to the palace for any reason until they have gone. Tomorrow they will leave and things will be back to normal.”
Warda did as he suggested. She spent the evening with Safra and Urim, counting the round smoky cheeses and labeling them. When it was dark, Warda and Safra pulled out a pallet and lay down to sleep in a corner of the courtyard while Urim went to his special place on the roof.
Later when Safra tried to tell what had happened, she said she remembered nothing until she heard a great pounding at the gate, followed by shouting and splintering of the wooden door frame. She saw men, at least five, burst into the courtyard with torches. They had stern, cruel looks and demanded that Warda come with them.
Warda was still half asleep when they snatched her from the pallet and hurried her out the door. Urim looked over the parapet and let out a roar of anger. He plunged down the steps two at a time, shouting that he would make fast work of them if they did not let Warda go immediately. He dashed out the gate as Warda screamed. There were the sounds of scuffling, shouting, and the dull thud of something hitting hard against the wall.
Within minutes the struggle was over. The men were gone, taking Warda with them. Urim lay limp and bleeding; his head had a great gash in it, and he was unconscious. Safra forgot everything but reviving him. She pulled him inside the gate. Unwrapping Urim’s headpiece, she washed and bound up the wound. He remained unconscious for several days.
Warda was taken directly to the old Egyptian’s rooms in the palace. She had her hands tied and her mouth bound with a piece of cloth torn from her elegant dancing skirt. She couldn’t talk or scream as she came to stand before the old man. He had not gone to bed in anticipation of her arrival. “Ah,” he said, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction, “she is indeed a beauty.”
Warda motioned that she wanted to have the bands removed so she could talk. “Not yet, my pretty,” the Egyptian said as he walked around her, so he could see her from every angle. “I want you to know all that I intend to do for you: the gifts you will receive, the treasures you will wear, and the exalted position you will hold in my house. When you hear all of this, you will see that it is better that you come with me than to have remained with that odoriferous goat man.”
Warda struggled to get free so she could answer, but the Egyptian smiled with pleasure at her discomfort and held up his hand. “I regret having to keep you bound, but it is necessary until we are well on our way tomorrow.”
He ordered an old woman to bring an Egyptian wardrobe, pectoral, girdle, and wig and see that Warda was dressed according to her new rank. “My dear,” he said, running his hand down along her arm with obvious approval, “you will be the envy of all other women when I finish with you.”
Warda could see that it would do no good to struggle.
She was outnumbered. There was nothing she could do. She watched the old man leave the room, leaning heavily on his steward. His robes were of the finest Egyptian linen, the rings on his gnarled fingers were huge, and the jeweled bands on his arms were of excellent craftsmanship. He was obviously wealthy.
After he had gone, the old woman freed Warda’s hands, but left her mouth bound. Warda let her put the fine garments on her without a protest. All the time she listened to everything
the old woman had to say about the Egyptian. “He’s rich beyond anything you can imagine,” the woman said. “He buys women like most of us buy bread, but then he tires of them.” She stood back to look at Warda. Her eyes grew slotted and speculative. “I’ll give you a month,” she said. “By the time we’re back in Egypt he’ll be bored with you, just as he’s been bored with all his other women.”
The old woman didn’t see how Warda bristled at her words. She went on talking about her master and the wonderful good fortune Warda had in being chosen by him.
When Warda was finally dressed and seated on one of the cushions next to the old man’s place, she had already sized up her situation. There was no way she could escape. This man was too powerful and influential. She would have to play for time and decide what she could do. She must do all within her power to please him, or she would be in the most hopeless situation of all, a concubine languishing alone and forgotten, locked in his harem for the rest of her life. He must not become bored with her as he had with the others.
When the old man returned, he was obviously pleased with her appearance. “My dear,” he said, “if I have the bands removed so you can talk, will you be happy?”
Warda nodded and tried to look submissive. He ordered the old woman to remove the bands. When it was done, he walked around her and looked at her. Finally he grimaced and rubbed his hands together. “I hope you will not be foolish enough to seek revenge,” he said, looking long and hard at Warda.
“My revenge,” she said with a look of proud scorn, “will be to never let you be bored.”
“Ha, ha, ha, he, he, he,” he laughed until he coughed. “So I will not be bored. We’ll see. We’ll see. But for now what marvelous threats you make.”
Warda didn’t smile. She almost felt a twinge of pity for this proud, arrogant, and selfish old man. By the time he realized his folly, he would have lost control completely, and she would be in charge.
When Abraham heard the news, he went immediately to visit Urim. He found him still unconscious, with Safra weeping by his side. “It is better a woman be plain and ugly,” she said. “Poor Urim may never recover.”
Abraham and Sarah Page 25