“I’m not afraid of my responsibilities, Reuben. I’m the firstborn of my father, and I’ve worked hard to make this clan proud of our name.”
The concern in his gaze clawed at a tiny piece of her heart. She craved a companion as rugged and caring as Reuben, but she would never confess that need. For it was wise to keep that secret hidden away among so many land-hungry kin.
“My family will assist you. We can join our tents.” Reuben meant well, but she could never accept his offer while her lungs held breath. “My sister is comforting yours.”
“They know?” Mahlah almost choked on her words. With one last glance at her father’s body, she darted like a skylark toward home, leaping over anything in her path. Holding her sheathed knife to her hip, she calculated each step and turn toward her tent.
Reuben was ignorant if he thought his sister was a help. Basemath was…was…Forgive, my thoughts, Lord.
Reuben’s sister saw to her own needs before she saw to the needs of others. How different she and Reuben were, yet they came from the same mother and father. And their father, Nemuel, knew how to wield his power in the tribe and in the camp.
Storming down the path through the tents of her clansmen, Mahlah hurried to aid her sisters. “God of Abraham, may the elders of Manasseh and my father’s kin find me worthy to lead.” How could they be blind to her skills in managing his household?
Clinks of hammers on tent pegs rung in her ears. A donkey brayed, protesting his new load. Curses bellowed from near her tent.
She passed Reuben’s dwelling. But where was hers? Half taken down, the ramskin walls lay folded in the dirt.
Milcah sat cross-legged by a standing wall, head in her hands. The drape of her dark-brown hair blocked the view of her face.
Basemath swung a satchel at Tirzah. “Stop this insult at once.”
Arm over her head, Tirzah readied to hurl something from her fist.
More than likely, it was a rock. And more than likely, it was headed Basemath’s direction.
“Listen to me for once.” Hoglah attempted to keep their little sister from scoring a victory.
Mahlah strode between her sisters and Basemath. “What is going on here? My family is in mourning and our home is a mess.” She made sure the rumble of her question reached the next path.
“She.” Basemath pointed at a scowling-faced Tirzah. “She attacked me.”
“For no reason?”
With Basemath, there was always a reason.
“That is unlikely,” Mahlah said.
“Hah! I came to give comfort at my brother’s urging, and this is what I receive.” Basemath held out her arm and displayed scarlet marks.
“Comfort?” Chin up, Milcah cast an accusatory stare at their cousin. “You told us we were going to be your servants.”
Mahlah fisted her hands. She couldn’t let abuse go unpunished, but the daughters of Zelophehad would not be serving anyone. Least of all their haughty neighbor, Basemath.
“Do something, Mahlah. Or I will report this to my father.” Hands on hips, Basemath kicked a rock at Tirzah.
Had stones already been thrown? Would Basemath twist this altercation into an insult of Nemuel’s authority? Or Reuben’s?
The clunks of mallets pulsed through Mahlah’s temples. A wave, hot and heavy, rolled from her stomach to her scalp. She whipped around.
“Stop taking down my tent.” She marched to where her clansmen worked. “Go back to your homes. Can we not have one moment to grieve?”
Wide-eyed, one of the laborers dropped his mallet. “We have orders.”
“And I am ordering you to leave.” Her voice broke. “Please.”
At that moment, the crack of a whip struck near the tent. Mahlah jumped. She placed a hand on her chest to keep her heart from bursting through her tunic.
Whip aimed high, there stood Noah. Cheeks scarlet, brown eyes bearing down on the workers, her squinty-eyed intensity almost scared Mahlah.
“You heard my sister. We will pack our own tent.” Noah’s beauty turned rabid.
Tools dropped to the ground. Men fled. Basemath cowered.
Tirzah danced in a circle. Her tear-stained cheeks plumped from her grin.
Mahlah embraced their shepherdess. “Shalom, Noah. To think I was worried about you handling a few snakes.”
4
Mahlah held her sixteen-year-old sister close. Noah’s head covering radiated the heat of the sun and warmed Mahlah’s cheek. “My heart rejoices that you are here now. I wished to warn you about the snakes, but I thought it best to go after Father.”
“Then the rumors of rebellion are true?” Noah stepped backward and secured her whip. “Another shepherd told me our clan led the rioters.” Her dark eyes grew somber. “I didn’t want to believe it.”
“’Tis true. Father took his temper and insults to Moses.” Mahlah swept a tear from her face. “He is no more.”
Noah’s chest sank to her belt. She tapped her fingers to her lips. “I did not believe he would act upon his utterances.” She blinked. “I thought his harshness was for our ears.”
“Your whole family is out of control. Rocks and whips.” Basemath stomped toward Mahlah. Rolling up her sleeve, she displayed the few small scratches. “My father will hear of this insult. I came at his urging to offer comfort to you and your sisters, and I was attacked.”
“By what?” Noah crossed her arms. Leather bracelets covered both of her wrists. “A sparrow?”
Giggles filled the small clearing.
Not one sputter left Mahlah’s lips. She needed the support of Basemath’s father and brother. “I appreciate your father’s concern, but I will see to the well-being of my sisters.”
“On whose authority?” Basemath showed little compassion.
Noah rotated her whip. “Mahlah is the firstborn of Zelophehad.”
Basemath took a step backward. All the while, she jabbed a finger at Mahlah’s face. “How can you lead a family? You are a woman with no husband. No one has even offered a marriage betrothal.”
Could this troublemaker shout that truth any louder?
“Someone will seek her. In time.” Noah seemed so sure of what Mahlah was not.
Her neighbor barked out a laugh. “Not for a long time. Not after your father brought punishment on our tribe and others. Don’t you want Moses to bestow a blessing on our clan? Come under my father’s tent and all will be forgotten. He will offer a bride price for your sisters.”
“And what will we do under your father’s tent?” Mahlah breathed deep and kept her feet firmly planted lest she lunge at Basemath. “Serve you and anyone your father deems worthy?” Her chest heaved. “Shall we forget we are the daughters of Zelophehad?” Her eyes welled to the brim at the mention of her father’s name.
“What name do you want remembered?” Basemath opened her arm in the direction of two curious gawkers. “Nemuel or Zelophehad? The living or the dead?”
“Zelophehad,” Noah shouted. Her glare glistened with grief, but it challenged anyone to defy her.
“Enough.” Mahlah would not allow her father to be maligned or for Basemath to stir trouble. “Our father was not the first to challenge God, and he won’t be the last.” Sweat trickled down Mahlah’s hairline. She brushed all the wetness into her sunbaked locks.
“Tirzah should ask forgiveness.” Hoglah gripped Tirzah’s arm like a vice. “Settle this matter in the family before we cause another disruption.”
An odd humming filled Mahlah’s ears. How could Hoglah side with their squawking neighbor? Hadn’t they suffered enough humiliation this day? Where did Hoglah’s allegiance lie? And where were her tears?
“We have work to do.” Mahlah’s throat cinched as she glimpsed an elderly man ordering his family about. Her own father would be left to rot in the desert he loathed. She ran her hand over her uncovered head. “Return to your family, Basemath. I’m sure your mother could use your assistance. I will decide what is best for our sister. We need to tend to our own belongi
ngs and finish with our tent.”
Down the path, a tent collapsed with a gush of wind. Dust clouded the air as men and women packed their belongings on a donkey and camels.
“I am not going anywhere. I am the daughter of Nemuel.” Basemath bared her arm and held it up for all to see. “I demand retribution for this injury.” She strutted closer. Her breath breezed against Mahlah’s nose. “If you are the head of this family, then bring that brat over here so I can dig my fingernails into her arm.”
Mahlah’s feet almost lifted from the path. A rush of blood surged through her body. Oh, how she wished to blow the stench of Basemath’s words into her slit-eyed face.
“Don’t do it, sister.” Noah stepped forward. “She is a cold-hearted goat. Tirzah doesn’t even reach her hip. Shall our sister suffer more abuse after the loss of her father?”
Glancing sideways, Mahlah beheld her silent youngest sister. She couldn’t remember a time Tirzah lacked words. Her sister’s tiny fist opened and released a pebble. Her palm was as scarlet as her eyes.
Hoglah did not twitch a muscle. Was she challenging Noah or embarrassed by this confrontation?
“A true leader wouldn’t allow this disregard for authority.” Basemath cocked her veiled head and smirked. “But then, like father like daughter.”
Specks of light blurred Mahlah’s vision, but she had worse problems than her own insult. Noah’s wrath threatened to lash out at their accuser. Mahlah straight-armed her sister and pushed her toward the tent.
“I will answer her challenge,” Mahlah said, “as the oldest.”
Noah’s ample chest rose and fell under Mahlah’s forearm.
“Do not let her break us apart,” Mahlah warned.
Noah met Mahlah’s gaze and gave a slight nod.
Mahlah whirled around and thrust her bared arm forward. “You want retribution? Then as the firstborn of Zelophehad’s daughters, you may take it upon my arm.”
“Don’t, Mahlah.” Tirzah’s small body contorted as she struggled against Hoglah’s firm grip.
Grinning, Basemath strolled forward and grasped Mahlah’s arm. “I’ll accept your offer.”
Mahlah beheld Basemath’s glee-filled stare. She would have sworn she had seen more warmth in the onyx eyes of the snakes. Mahlah lifted her sleeve. “Let it not be said we are in your debt.”
Basemath dug her talon-like nails into Mahlah’s flesh.
Tingles. Burn. And then fire. Mahlah’s right eye twitched. Of all the times to have a spasm. This was the worst. She clenched her teeth and blinked away any hint of a cry.
Five curved lines grew scarlet and marred Mahlah’s sun-browned skin.
“You have lost your standing in this clan,” Basemath whispered with a grin born of celebration. “Do not mock me or my father.”
Mahlah balled her fist and yanked her arm from her relative’s clutches. “I am still the oldest daughter of Zelophehad, son of Hepher. I will see to my sisters’ care.”
“For now.” Basemath scowled in Tirzah’s direction and then sauntered toward of her tent.
A trumpet wailed in the distance. The long, low blast urged the tribes into formation.
“Hear that sisters?” Mahlah lowered her sleeve to cover the scratches on her arm. “It is time to pack up our home. We will continue to travel as a family.”
A pair of thin arms wrapped around Mahlah’s waist. Always-observant Milcah burrowed into Mahlah’s side. Her thin body trembled. “I don’t want to live with anyone else.”
Tirzah hugged on Mahlah’s hip and sobbed. “Me neither.”
Tears streamed from Mahlah’s eyes. This time, it was not because of her twitch or grief. She adored the rough-skin touch of her sisters and inhaling the faint scent of myrtle wafting from their hair. She held out her arms for Noah and Hoglah to join the group embrace. Their father was gone, but his daughters remained, and together they would stay.
Unless.
Unless Basemath had overheard discussions among the leaders of her tribe. Was Nemuel going to separate her sisters? Basemath’s words echoed in her ears. They were together for now. Mahlah wouldn’t let anyone take her sisters. She had a vow to uphold.
Arms open wide, Noah joined her sisters in a sorrow-filled hug.
Hoglah picked up a tent peg and retreated from her family. “We’ve work to do since you scared off our kin.”
“Yes, we do.”
Couldn’t Hoglah offer some comfort? Mahlah’s stomach clenched. She squeezed Noah and her young sisters tighter before withdrawing herself from their arms. “Now, pack up. We will follow God wherever He moves us.” She blew out a strangled breath. “And we will follow God together.”
5
Hours later, Mahlah stood on tiptoe and squinted at the mass of people following Moses. Dust shrouded the air, but the cloud of their God whitewashed the sky and led the way toward the plains of Moab. Their clan traveled ahead in the distance. She and her sisters lagged at the rear of the tribe of Manasseh, far behind their clan of Hepher. Somehow, she and her sisters had to march faster and keep their relatives in sight. They did not need an overseer. She could manage her family and their livestock, but the tribe at their heels, the tribe of Asher, threatened to overwhelm her sisters, and drag them farther from their kinsmen.
Milcah pulled the donkeys carrying their tent. Another donkey nudged Hoglah’s shoulder as it carried Tirzah and the household goods. Noah herded the livestock with another clansman and Jeremiah, the shepherd. At least one member of their clan cared about orphans burdened with heavy hearts.
“When is it my turn to ride?” Milcah shuffled her feet and let her donkeys lumber ahead encasing her between their bellies. “Will we camp soon?”
“We have several hours of sunlight left.” Mahlah took the leads from Milcah. “And we need to keep pace with Nemuel’s camels.”
Tirzah swung her well-rested legs. “They should wait for us.”
“We do not need to be watched over like newborns.” Mahlah glanced at the neighboring marchers to see if anyone had overheard their banter. No heads turned toward her sisters.
“I’m not grumbling.” Hoglah patted the neck of her beast. “But we are going farther into the wilderness. Is not Moab north of here?”
Like father, like daughter. Mahlah didn’t need any reports whispered to the leaders about disgruntled women. Especially women without an older brother or a father.
“We are following our God and honoring the refusal of the leaders of Edom to let us travel through their lands.” Mahlah was quick to drown any dissent. “Shall we go to battle with the children of Jacob’s brother and fight people of a common ancestor?” She did not want to think of war. War meant sending sons into battle. What brother or son could she offer?
“Why did God give us land with people living in it?” Milcah slumped against Mahlah’s hip. “Couldn’t He give them another home? Then this walking would be over.”
Mahlah shook her head. “All the land belongs to God. It is His to give and take away. But I’m sure He will honor our choice of peace.”
“He has given us water for our journey.” Tirzah raised her arms toward the sky and pumped her fists. “Spring up, oh well. Spring up, up, up.”
“Make her stop,” Hoglah muttered. “My ears are tired.”
“Who does not like music?” Mahlah held in a rebuke of Hoglah’s nagging. “We are blessed to hear singing and not more wailing.”
She approached Hoglah while dragging the leg Milcah clung to and used as a bed mat.
“Take charge of all the mules. I will check on Noah.” She handed the leads to Hoglah and bent low. “Spring up on my back, Milcah. We will lope around our flocks and help our shepherdess.”
“Sure, carry her while I lead these beasts.” Hoglah snapped the leather. The harsh crack rang out like another rebuke.
Mahlah pressed out an encouraging smile. “I would carry us all if I could, but I don’t wish to sink into the soil.”
Playing the mule to Milcah, Mahlah tr
otted past several families. As far as eyes could see, the hills, valleys, and flatlands were alive with movement. God’s people blanketed the terrain, marching in order. Four rows, three tribes in each row, with Levites intermingled, caused a mighty display of strength.
Traveling on the outskirts of their tribe, she spied Noah holding two tiny kids in her arms. The newborns’ tongues licked Noah’s sleeves. Sheep huddled close by waiting for Noah to give direction.
Noah standing idle was an uncommon sight. Something must be wrong.
“Hold on.” Mahlah dashed through bleating sheep and obnoxious head-butting goats. The odor of warm, musty animal hair filled her nostrils. She plodded closer. “What’s wrong, sister?”
Noah juggled the babes in her arms. “My mother is gone. I need her to nurse. She has never wandered off.” Her dark lashes fluttered. “I have to find her.”
Milcah’s weight bore down on Mahlah’s shoulders. The herds had to keep moving. Each minute they stood on the outskirts talking, their clan journeyed farther north.
“Where is Jeremiah?” Perhaps he had the mother. He and Noah knew each other’s animals as their own. The young man couldn’t hear or speak, but his herds flourished under his ardent care.
“He has the rest of our sheep. I told him to go on so his father wouldn’t complain.” Noah blew out a long breath. “I’ve never lost a goat. Not a single one.”
“Find Jeremiah. Stay with him near our sisters. Milcah and I will search for the mother.” She jiggled her shoulders. “Right, Milcah?”
“I go where you go.”
Noah hesitated. Hand shading her eyes, she scanned the landscape. “How does a nursing animal go missing?”
“Go on,” Mahlah urged. “I will pray to God, and He will show me where to find our goat.”
Maaaah. The kids in Noah’s arms agreed.
“I am sorry, sister. I was intent on not losing our sheep. I do not know what happened to the mother.” Noah nodded toward the ground. “Take one of the waterskins. I don’t need you in distress.”
Lioness: Mahlah's Journey Page 3