She waved at Jeremiah.
“I,” she pointed to herself, “will take Basemath and Hoglah.” She indicated the other two women. “Home.” Cresting her fingers, she made a tent with her hands.
Eli rubbed his head. “Why blather to him? Take your sister and go.”
Mahlah glowered at the pit reveler. “Jeremiah escorted me into the wilderness. Not you.”
“Dull your tongue,” Eli snapped. “No one needs to be the wiser. Surely, you agree.” He nodded toward Basemath draped over the donkey. “She needs a drink of water or a dousing.”
“You should know.” Mahlah brushed by Eli and gently shook her neighbor. “Wake up. We must get you home.”
Basemath sat and grimaced. “My body hurts.”
“It will feel better in the morn.” Hoglah came alongside Mahlah. “Let us help you dismount.”
Sliding from the donkey, Basemath’s gold armlets glistened against the dark-brown fur of her mount. The animal sidestepped showing more life than the idol worshiped in the pit.
Each taking a shoulder, Mahlah and Hoglah ushered Basemath toward her tent.
Jeremiah stalked forward. He pointed to his lips and then to his palm at the base of his middle finger.
“No tell Noah,” Mahlah said. “Definitely not.” She craned her neck and gave Eli a raised-eyebrow challenge. “I am the eldest of our family. I will decide who we tell and when.”
“I am not the eldest,” Eli said, making sure Jeremiah could see his lips. “We won’t speak of this.”
“I don’t feel well,” Basemath moaned.
Eli leapt onto the donkey. “Get her to bed.” He kicked his mount. “Shalom.”
Jeremiah jogged after his brother toward their flocks.
“If Nemuel is awake, there will be no peace.” She made her way to the broadest path through the tents of Manasseh.
Sure-footed and glimpsing every shadow, Hoglah kept one stride ahead of Mahlah.
“What will we tell Nemuel and Susanna? Nemuel’s wrath will be worse than father’s.”
“Hah. Not by much.” Shouldn’t her sister have thought of the consequences before wandering into the wilderness with Basemath? Mahlah adjusted her cousin’s weight. “I spoke with Susanna when I brought Jonah home. Nemuel was meeting with the tribal leaders and Moses. Let us hope every leader wishes to be heard tonight.”
“Oh, my ears.” Basemath opened her eyes, blinked, and then slammed them shut.
As they neared their droopy-sided tent, Mahlah slowed. “I will carry on with Basemath.”
Hoglah shook her head. “I cannot go inside our tent. Let me stay with Susanna.”
Mahlah’s mind spun. Was her sister still upset about the men of Asher being sent away? What was troubling her to make her run off with Basemath? Clenching her teeth, Mahlah stifled a rebuke. An argument would only bring curious neighbors to their tent flap. Their family’s reputation did not need to be whispered about among the water jars. She breathed out and flexed her aching knuckles.
“You have to come home.”
“I will. In the morning.”
Did her sister think taking charge of this family was easy?
“What is one night?” Mahlah’s tone sharpened.
A low whine rumbled from Basemath’s lips.
“I don’t want Milcah or Tirzah to see me,” Hoglah whispered. “Or smell me. I will come home washed with a belly full of manna.”
Hoglah was correct. They would never fool Milcah if she was awake. How would they explain the odor of wine and fragrant smoke?
“We cannot lie to our sisters.” Mahlah changed direction. “Maybe it’s best if you sleep in Nemuel’s tent.”
Hoglah’s brow furrowed. “You agree?”
“It seems we finally do on something.”
Mahlah eased Basemath’s weight onto Hoglah and then poked her head inside Nemuel’s tent. Praise God, her uncle was nowhere in sight. She motioned for Susanna to come outside.
Susanna rose from her mat beside Jonah, picked up a lamp, and followed Mahlah out of the tent.
“What has happened to my daughter?” Susanna stroked Basemath’s cheek.
“I’m tired and my stomach aches.” Basemath’s words were one long moan.
“She needs water and rest.” Mahlah and Hoglah exchanged glances. “Hoglah can stay with you tonight. She will fetch water and help if Jonah wakes.”
Susanna skimmed a hand over Basemath’s jeweled armlets. “Why is she dressed like this? Where did you find her?”
Mahlah would not bear false witness. Especially not to an elder’s wife and close relative.
“I found her outside of the camp near Shittim.”
The ashen half-circles under Susanna’s eyes deepened. She pressed a hand to her lips.
“Perhaps it is best if we talk in the morning.” Mahlah motioned for Hoglah to get Basemath to bed.
Hoglah handed her the lamp and helped the girl inside the tent.
“Our elders need to hear what is happening not far from our camp.” Mahlah withheld further explanation.
Susanna nodded. Her eyes glistened with tears in the light of the lamp. “I wouldn’t know what to tell my husband. Why would our daughter wander off?”
Mahlah wondered the same thing. In the morning, she expected to get answers from both girls. But they were not the only ones who needed to confess their actions. Eli shared in the blame.
“It may only be a small comfort, but I saw leaders of our people joining in the festivities.”
“God forgive us,” Susanna rasped. “What would I have done if you had not searched for her?” She kissed Mahlah’s cheek. “Bless you.”
Susanna shuffled inside the tent.
Ducking under the guy-line, Mahlah rounded the corner and returned home. Alone. Her conscience nagged her. Would her mother have let Hoglah sleep in Nemuel’s tent? Or would she have brought the night’s grievances to Nemuel in haste?
Mahlah grabbed hold of her tent flap and tugged it open. Her sisters had not tied it shut.
Inside, Tirzah and Milcah lay on their mats. The glow of a lamp revealed piles of stones cluttering the ground near Tirzah. If sorting rocks kept her sisters out of heathen worship pits, she would have the whole family partake. Being a mother and father to four girls was exhausting. Again, she wondered how her mother had managed five daughters.
Tirzah stirred and sat. “Where’s Hoglah? Did you find her?”
“Yes, but she is spending the night with Susanna.” Mahlah made it seem commonplace. She unfurled her mat and placed it near her sisters. “Hoglah will be home tomorrow.”
“Does she need to help with Jonah?” Milcah mumbled the question still curled on her side.
“No, but it’s time to rest.”
Mahlah’s body sank into the thick woven reeds of her mat. Her bones had walked half of the night and chased Jonah half of the day. Her mouth lacked the will to mutter a prayer for Reuben’s safe return. She would pray twofold tomorrow and prepare an offering for her family.
She was awakened from a refreshing sleep by a man’s wailing.
Was it real or a dream about the pit, or—? She sprang upright and instinctively searched the tent for snakes. Nothing moved. No light of dawn crept through the seams. Night lingered.
Mahlah licked her parched lips and listened.
The piteous wailing echoed nearby. It sounded like—
Oh no, no, no. She leapt to her feet, pulse hammering in her temples. Nemuel was shrieking.
“What’s wrong?” Milcah sat and grabbed her knees.
“Stay here.” Mahlah tore at the tent ties. “Do not leave our home.” Her tone sharpened. “Something’s not right.”
She raced from the flap.
Nemuel stood hunched in the middle of the wide path.
A few neighboring clansmen emerged from their tents.
Their leader wept, tearing at his hair.
“A plague rages in my tent.”
14
How could this b
e? Mahlah had left Nemuel’s tent only hours before. Hoglah and Susanna weren’t feverish. Basemath had been sleepy from drinking wine, but what Mahlah saw of her skin, it wasn’t pocked with sores. Mahlah could hardly think through her uncle’s screams. Was God judging Hoglah’s and Basemath’s time in the pit? Was this sickness a result of their disobedience? But why the whole tent? She and her sisters lived, even though her father had challenged God and Moses’ leadership? She had been in the pit with her sister and Basemath and no plague ailed her flesh?
Her chest tightened as she bent low before her elder. “Are they alive?” She fisted her hands and readied for his answer.
Nemuel’s head bobbed, but it was not a definite shake.
Mahlah blinked back tears. “I will take care of them.” Mahlah stood and jabbed a finger at a nearby couple. “We will need water to bathe their bodies. Lots of water. And lots of jars.” She pointed to another clanswoman. “Bring strips of cloth.”
“No,” Nemuel shouted. He charged at her like a wild boar. “You will not go near my heir. The curse of Zelophehad has entered my tent. Your sister’s presence has diseased my family.”
Heat surged through Mahlah’s limbs. How dare Nemuel accuse her sister of causing this plague? She and her sisters were not cursed. They lived and breathed before God like everyone else. She had to dismiss his accusation before gossip filled the whole camp. Or, God forbid, kinsmen picked up stones to kill her.
“We are not cursed.” Mahlah held out her hands and displayed her arms. “Look at me.” She addressed the gathering crowd of Manasseh. “My skin does not carry a rash. No boils fester on my arms.”
“Or mine.”
“Mine, too.”
Mahlah turned to see Milcah and Tirzah with arms raised, huddled at the front of the crowd of her clansmen. Her heart swelled with pride at their boldness. Even though they had disobeyed her.
“Do not say we brought a plague.” Loud and definite, Mahlah proclaimed her family’s innocence right to their leader’s forlorn face.
She stepped away. This anger would do neither of them any good. Their loved ones needed care. “You are overcome with grief. I know the depths.” Mahlah leaned close. “Your daughter wandered from camp and was out near Shittim. Moses will know if this is a punishment from God. Seek him straight away.”
Nemuel’s jaw gaped. “Liar!” Arms flailing her direction, he stumbled. “How dare you blame this sickness on my daughter.”
Gasps came from the gathering crowd.
Mahlah needed to refute the elder’s scorn before her kin doubted her truthfulness and her standing. Nemuel’s pride was keeping her from tending the ill before they succumbed to the plague. Did he believe there wasn’t any hope of a cure? She needed to get inside the tent, tend to her family, and ask forgiveness. Fast.
“I have witnesses,” she proclaimed to her relatives. Truth would be told this night no matter the consequences. Death would not take her sister or Jonah without a fight. “Men from Manasseh will support my words. My family remains faithful to the One True God.”
“What men will speak for you?” Spit flew from Nemuel’s lips.
“Seek out Eli and Jeremiah. They escorted me tonight.” She would not reveal more in such a public place.
Abishua shouldered his way to the front of the crowd. “I just saw my sons in the field. They are not sick with fever.”
If Eli did not suffer, why did her sister and Basemath? Surely Eli’s actions were offensive to God?
She shuffled away from the leaders, closer to the tent. “I have given you a witness who can speak to my truthfulness. Now let me tend to my sister and my kin. I am not afraid of a fever.” Hadn’t she given her word to Reuben that she would oversee his son? And what about Susanna? The woman had been so tired this evening and desperate of spirit. A sob threatened to break free from Mahlah’s chest. “I beg of you. Pray to God for our family and for our tribe. I cannot bear another loss. Am I not already an orphan?”
Abishua wrapped an arm around Nemuel’s shoulders. “Come. Let us pray as Moses has instructed the elders.”
Nemuel collapsed into his relative’s arms.
Women hurried forward with water jars and strips of cloth.
Praise God some people were listening this night.
“May the Lord bless you.” Mahlah accepted their provisions.
Her clanswomen nodded and scattered. Their sandals did not move one step toward Nemuel’s dwelling.
“This disease is elsewhere in the camp,” a woman said. “Leaders from the tribes of Gad and Simeon have fallen ill. Their wives are hysterical.”
Was God judging the tribal leaders for their worship of Baal? Is that why Nemuel was so distraught? Had Moses spoken of God’s wrath at the council meeting?
Too many thoughts clouded her mind. She might as well have been caught in a whirlwind. Adonai, give me wisdom and forgive our transgressions.
Milcah came up beside her sloshing water on Mahlah’s bare feet. Tirzah’s arms were full of ripped linen.
“Oh sisters.” Mahlah almost wept. “You must let me go in alone. I could not bear if you fell ill. Stay outside and pray for our people.”
Her sisters did not utter agreement. They scowled as if she had spoken foreign babble.
“We can help.” Milcah adjusted her load.
“Yes, you can. When I need water or more bandages, you can set them at the tent flap.” Mahlah furled her brow and scowled, but her harsh expression faltered. “Please, sisters. Wait here with our people. Show God your faithfulness and listen to me.”
“Fine.” Milcah lowered her jar. “But if the tent gets too quiet, we will rush inside.”
“I wouldn’t expect less.” A tear dribbled down Mahlah’s cheek. “Our God will protect me from the plague. I was with our family all day.” And night. “I am strong.” She hefted the water jar.
Tirzah stuffed strips of linen in Mahlah’s belt.
After kissing the tops of her sisters’ heads, Mahlah dipped inside Nemuel’s tent, dreading what she would find inside. She mumbled a prayer.
The vast ramskin walls stitched to add room for Reuben and his wife, now reminded her of a large tomb. Bodies lay on mats, unmoving. A groan welcomed her entrance. She had no hand to cover her nose and shelter her from the odor of sweat and raw flesh. Fighting a gag from the smell, she sucked in a breath through her mouth.
Jonah lay next to Susanna. Mahlah rushed to the boy and knelt beside him. She raised his head slowly and supported it while she dipped a cup in the water jar. His hair raged hot against her arm.
“Drink, little one.”
“I hurt.” Jonah’s eyes did not open to greet her, but he sipped the water.
“I am right here, but you must drink. It will cool the fever.”
She fumbled to moisten a cloth and place it on his brow. “The Lord bless you, Jonah.”
The boy’s eyes fluttered open. Even overcome with fever and ache, they reminded her of his father’s eyes, unnervingly beautiful with bronze specks illuminating the deep brown.
Jonah’s lips curved slightly, but a smile did not come forth.
Susanna struggled to shift onto her side. Her droopy-lidded gaze fell on her grandchild.
“Save my babies. I have lived my life.”
Mahlah’s throat grew tight. “God will save all of you. He will answer our petitions. Many are praying for your healing.” Mahlah placed a wet cloth on her friend’s forehead. The woman radiated heat like a blazing fire. She tugged on Susanna’s neckline and laid another cloth on her chest. Handing her a cup, Mahlah encouraged her to drink.
Hoglah called out for water.
Lunging toward her sister, Mahlah did not care if she splashed water all over the tent.
“Oh, sister.” Mahlah offered Hoglah a cup. “Tell me. When did you become ill? I did not see any signs when I left you.”
Hoglah shimmied to sit. Her forehead wrinkled. “I don’t remember. I went to sleep next to Basemath and woke up in pain. I thought
I was dreaming, but now it hurts to see.”
At the mention of her name, Basemath coughed. She panted like a donkey run hard in the heat.
Mahlah set a rag on the girl’s head. Black charcoal lines streaked her cousin’s cheeks. Mahlah wiped away the mess, hoping she could wipe away the memories of the pit. Why had she sought such a place? Was Eli to blame? She shook the questions from her mind. Once everyone was healed, she would seek the answers.
Basemath swiped a hand over her forehead, knocking off the wet linen. Her gold armlets glistened, catching the lamplight. Golden embers brightened and faded as if taunting Mahlah.
From one to another to another, Mahlah forced her loved ones to sip water. Where was the healing? Tears welled in her eyes, but she did not let them fall. She did not have time to tend to them.
“God of Jacob,” she called out. “Heal my family. Don’t take my sister or Jonah from me. Didn’t I promise Reuben that I would care for his son? I vowed to my mother that I would care for her daughters. I cannot bear anymore heartache. Forgive any wrongdoing.”
Jonah whimpered.
Standing in the center of the tent, Mahlah raised her arms toward the ceiling. “God, please. You have spared our whole camp from our enemies. What is saving four lives? Honor my request, O Lord.” Her lips quivered. “When have I not served you? Even tonight, you provided an escort for me. You led us to the pit and home again. Is this the end you desire?”
Crying, Jonah curled into himself.
She picked up the boy, his skin baking from the inside out.
“Oh, God.” Her plea rumbled from her throat as she rocked Jonah to quiet his sobs.
Basemath rolled on her side. Her hand touched her forehead again, dislodging the cool cloth.
Even in illness, that girl antagonized Mahlah.
A design on a gold armlet illuminated in the light. A shape like that of a long head. Was that a divot for an eye?
She shivered at the remembrance of the statue of Baal. The vile dancing. Balaam’s sneer. Curse you, pagans! Images of false gods did not belong in the Israelite camp.
Lioness: Mahlah's Journey Page 7