Lioness: Mahlah's Journey

by Barbara M. Britton

  “Yes, I was with him. But that is not why I am here.”

  “You wished to bring me a cloak?” He glanced at the garment wrapped around her shoulders.

  “Only if you need it.”

  He shook his head. “It would be unclean if I wore it.” His dark eyes softened. “It was your father’s?”

  She nodded. “That’s why I am here. You sent word with Noah about a counting. That Moses is going to count the fighting men of Israel.”

  “Yes. God has blessed us. We have conquered cities. Walled cities with land aplenty.” Excitement sped his words. “Our livestock can graze on a thousand new hills.”

  “What about my livestock? The flocks of Zelophehad? Will my sisters and I be given some of those hills?”

  Reuben rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin.

  “After Moses counts the fighting men, the leaders of each clan will assign land.” Reuben’s forehead ridged. “Larger families will receive more land. The head of each family will draw lots for their piece to settle.”

  He was babbling, reciting what the elders had been told. What he had probably heard from others as he waited to be made clean from war. Her muscles drew taut.

  “You don’t believe your father will put my family name in to draw lots?” There she said it. No need for a mysterious message.

  “What man would?”

  “You, perhaps?”

  His mouth opened and closed, but he did not utter an affirmation.

  Her cheeks tingled with warmth. And pain. As if someone had slapped her; Reuben’s silence was a slap all its own.

  “So,” her voice strained in her throat. “The name of my father is as dead and buried as he. That is the message you were so eager for me to hear? Families will be counted but not mine.”

  At her near shriek, a man dipped a ladle in a water jar and hurried away.

  “Mahlah.”

  Her name came from his lips, soft and gentle. It almost soothed her trembling hands like a soft caress. Almost.

  He stepped closer.

  “I only wanted you to be aware of what was happening, so you could be ready.”

  “To do what? Challenge your father and my clan?” She wrapped the cloak in a ball so tight against her belly, it pained her stomach.

  Reuben’s eyelashes fluttered. “There are other ways to get land.”

  “Wait.” Her response floated in the air between them, long, and lingering. “You want me to marry off my sisters?” Tears pulsed behind her eyes. “This isn’t about counting my family because my sisters won’t be counted. Not as a family.” Her fingers trembled. A flash of drenching him with water from the jars crossed her vision.

  “If they had husbands, they would have land and protection.” He bent low, hands open. “Consider it. That is all I ask. They will eventually marry.”

  Biting her lip, she beheld him with a wariness she had never felt before. Where was the boy who’d watched over her? Who showed kindness when her own father did not have a tiny drop to spare? Her mind taunted her. He did not offer to protect you.

  “Of all our people, I reasoned I could trust you.” She could not keep the disbelief from her chastisement. “Noah and Hoglah are old enough to consider an offer of marriage, but what about Milcah and Tirzah? What of them? Who will look out for the needs of girls with no land and no father? Shall I hand them off to someone who desires a larger family to count? May it never be.”

  “I did not mean to upset you.” He scraped a hand over his shoulder-length hair.

  Not a twinge of attraction budded in her belly. Her woeful lust had been stamped upon and tattered.

  “My father may have grumbled against God, but he believed in our God and taught his daughters to do the same. The daughters of Zelophehad will be counted among the clan of Hepher. As. A. Family.”

  She turned and whipped her cloak over her shoulder. A few men dodged from her path.

  “If that were possible, I would hope for it. Truly, I would.” Reuben’s shout followed after her.

  Why did she have to be fond of him? Why couldn’t God have brought another man into her life? But then what man would want the burden of providing for several unwed sisters? Reuben meant well with his message, but she refused to take his counsel. She had promised her mother that she would watch over her sisters, and she would not break that vow. Ever. Even if her sisters were overlooked in an official counting.

  She and her sisters would carry her father’s name into the Promised Land. Part of Canaan would belong to Zelophehad’s offspring. She had vowed as much to her mother, and to herself.

  And she would not break her own vow.

  18

  Mahlah plodded back to camp avoiding where her family’s livestock roamed. She did not want to be questioned about where she had been or with whom she’d talked. Talked. She laughed. Reuben had received her truth in shouts. She hoped Eli was still entrusted with the care of their animals and that Noah ruled their tent. How was it possible that her clansman had wandered off to worship a foreign god, yet he could inherit land? She and her sisters served the God of Abraham faithfully, and yet they had no right to assume their father’s portion of land.

  She perched atop a rock on a hill a fair distance from the tents of Manasseh. How vast her tribe seemed to be, nestled alongside the other tribes of Israel. A sea of tent tops covered the ground. A testament to the strength of the eldest son of Joseph, a ruler over Egypt. She blinked in awe. What standing did five orphaned girls have among so many families?

  The sun baked her head covering. A drip of sweat slid down the side of her nose and settled on her lip. Salt sizzled on her tongue. The weight of her father’s cloak burdened her arm. She should have left it in their tent. Little good it did her to seek out Reuben. All he sought was betrothals for her sisters. He did not speak one word about her own betrothal. At least, not with him. Somehow, after their meeting, he did not seem so ruggedly handsome.

  Her future, and that of her sisters, overflowed with uncertainty. Being the firstborn of Zelophehad left her with little standing in her clan. The elders of her tribe were set to scatter her sisters into different tents. Some as wives and others as servants.

  Mahlah tipped her chin toward a bright blue sky. Her chest tightened, making breaths difficult. “I don’t have a mother or a father, God? But you know that. You know the truth.”

  Tears seeped from her eyes and streaked down her cheeks. She didn’t bother to brush them away.

  “How can I honor the vow I made to my mother when no one will let me? I am nothing in the elders’ eyes now that my father is dead.”

  A wisp of a cloud drifted overhead.

  “Are You listening, Lord? I’ve seen Your cloud over the Tent of Meeting. Your pillar of fire leading our people.” She swallowed, her throat thick and raw. “I saw Moses lifting a serpent on a stick so Your people would be saved. Or could be saved.” She shook the images of her father’s bloated body from her vision. “I know You care.”

  She glanced around to make sure no one had witnessed this spectacle of a girl talking to a cloud. Hadn’t she already stirred the curiosity of the fighting men waiting outside the camp?

  “I am not a son, but I swear I love You more than some who wear a loincloth.” She hiccupped as the tears flowed. “Help me, Lord. I am pushed aside while my family is forgotten.”

  Did the sky brighten? A ray of light broke free from the small cloud and illuminated the ground at her feet. Were her eyes playing tricks on her? She blinked.

  Another ray of light burst from the cloud.

  “God? Is that You?”

  Dropping to her knees, she flung her father’s cloak over the rock and lifted her arms toward the blinding light. She closed her eyes and allowed the warmth to heat her flesh.

  “O God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, hear my prayer. I am a woman without husband or standing or means. My mother and father are gone.” Her chest heaved, choking her petition. “Who is going to take care of me and my sisters?”


  I Am.

  Mahlah’s eyes flew open. Someone had spoken. Had Reuben followed her?

  She whipped around, but no man stood anywhere near her.

  It couldn’t have been? Could it?

  The cloud hovered overhead in an expanse of endless sky. Her soul emptied of sorrow and soared like a skylark breaking free from the white mass and darting toward the heavens.

  “What am I to do, Lord? I love my sisters. They can be brash and silly, but I love them with all my heart. We’re a family.” She licked her lips, warmed by the sun’s rays. “God are You truly listening?”

  I Am.

  Again. She heard it.

  That voice.

  Forehead to dirt, she bowed. Heart racing. “Toda raba, Lord. Give me Your wisdom.”

  She stayed low to the ground until her back cooled and her limbs stopped trembling. She glanced at the blue hues above her. The cloud had vanished.

  Leaping to her feet, she hurried toward her family’s tent. She fled past women weaving and cooking without giving a glance or a greeting. Not a word would she share about her encounter at the rock. Some of her people already thought her half-mad for chastising an elder and throwing his gold into the fire.

  As she neared her tent, the one with the slight tilt, her sisters’ voices drifted out to her. She stilled and listened over the boom of her heart.

  “I should never have slept outside this tent,” Hoglah said. “My bones are still weary from the fever.”

  Mahlah bit her lip. Oh, Hoglah.

  “Do not tell Mahlah.” Hoglah’s tone sharpened.

  “She has other worries at the moment.” Noah’s voice held a tease.

  Don’t tell them, Noah.

  “Someone help me find all my rocks,” Tirzah complained. “Milcah kicked them into the corner.”

  “I did not.” Ire filled Milcah’s defense.

  Hand to her mouth, Mahlah stifled her tears. This was her family. The family she’d vowed to watch over.

  She beheld a slice of sky visible between the tent tops.

  “God of Israel, I cannot disappoint my sisters and my mother. If what I heard today was You, then give me strength to speak to the one who speaks for You.” She closed her eyes and smiled. A sack of grain weighed on her heart as her sisters’ complaints and conversing filtered from the tent.

  Nemuel and the leaders of Manasseh would not separate her family. Not while her lungs held breath. The daughters of Zelophehad would carry their father’s name into the land God had promised His people.

  She and her sisters would go above their tribal elders and seek the man who spoke to God and for God.

  For a future together, she and her sisters would seek Moses.

  What was one more family scandal?

  19

  In hopes of catching a word of when the leaders of Israel would gather, in the coming days, Mahlah sauntered along the Tabernacle curtain listening to gossip and quarrels. She and her sisters would seek out Moses at the assembly when witnesses abounded to hear Moses’ wisdom.

  Was she foolish to approach Moses in front of God’s appointed overseers? What if the voice she thought she’d heard wasn’t from God? What if the sky had brightened all on its own? She clasped her arms around her waist and strolled toward the tents of Moses and his nephew, Eleazar, the priest. If she and her sisters had any hope of staying together and carrying her father’s name into the new lands, they would need a blessing from God’s spokesman.

  A group of Levites headed in her direction. Would they know of an assembly? They took care of God’s house. She let the Tabernacle servants pass. Turning to follow, she came nose to neck with Reuben. A fully-clothed Reuben. A man who had disregarded her claim to land. She drew to her full height so they were almost eye to eye.

  Reuben’s face was void of his customary smile.

  And how do you fare this morning, Mahlah?

  “You didn’t tell me the fever Jonah suffered was due to the plague. Wasn’t I due the truth about my son?”

  How dare he greet her with an accusation. She breathed deep to halt a hasty response. The smoke from the Tabernacle offerings filled her nostrils. The ashen scent did nothing to calm her anger; it only irritated her nose.

  “I gave you the truth.” She would not allow him to sully her reputation, not when she needed to be held in high regard before the assembly. “I answered your question with enough knowledge so you would not worry. Jonah’s fever had broken when I left camp. The plague’s hold on your family’s tent was no more.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  His statement lacked the customary praise one would expect for saving another’s family. But she would not take the credit.

  “Thanks to God.”

  He widened his stance and crossed his arms. A blue-corded tassel splayed over his tunic. His face filled with wrinkles.

  “Basemath told me about the idol worship.”

  She admired the weave of the curtain beside her, tracing the scarlet threads with her eyes and leaving Reuben to wait for her response.

  “Your sister was too drunk to join in the worship.” She turned her attention back to him and forced a bland expression. “I believe our kinsman Eli is to blame for her state.”

  “You are the one who went after her.” He emphasized her role with a hint of castigation.

  “I went after Hoglah.” She allowed her bond with her sister to hang in the smoke-hazed air between them. “With a proper escort,” she added. “And if I hadn’t seen the image of their pagan god, I wouldn’t have been able to banish your sister’s armlet to the fire pit.”

  “You threw my mother’s gold into the fire as well.” His arms fell to his sides. “So, I’ve heard.”

  Ah, now that the illness had passed, his father must be fuming at his charred wealth. And who better to slander than the unwed girl with no father.

  “I couldn’t be certain your sister wasn’t generous with her tainted baubles.”

  “My sister? Generous?” He cracked that endearing smile.

  Her body readied to leap into his embrace. Traitor. Though, he had tried to warn her about the counting. He must have been fatigued from battle.

  “I don’t know how I would have survived the grief of losing my son.” His eyes glistened. “I wouldn’t have been able to enter camp to bury him. How could I have left his body to decay in this heathen land if we were called to march?”

  She banished any thoughts or images of Jonah’s lifeless body. Her heart ached for the briefest of moments, for she had left her father’s body to decompose in pagan soil.

  “He brings me joy, too.” She swallowed, hard. Thinking of Jonah caused her to grin despite his father’s questioning. “And worrying about him for days, well, I didn’t want you to despair.”

  Reuben nodded, his eyes all the more captivating with tears ready to overflow.

  “After all, I told you I would watch over him, and you know how stubborn I can be.” She cocked her head, knowing he agreed with her assessment.

  He laughed. With a sniffle, he said, “I promised Jonah he could visit your tent later. My father and I must take our places at the assembly.”

  An invisible horn blasted in her ear. Her brain cleared of all their chatter.

  “Has Moses called a meeting of the tribal leaders?”

  “Tonight. He wants Eleazar to bless the lots cast for land.” Reuben turned toward the intense colors of the curtain as if noticing the location of the Tabernacle for the first time. “Father wants me to make an offering for our tribe before the prayers this evening.”

  “How wise.” She cast a glance at the cloud covering their place of worship. This meeting with Reuben did not happen by chance. Those wisps of white meant God was with her people. With her. Right now.

  I Am.

  Her heart rallied, quaking her clothing. “I best not keep you from your duty.”

  He turned toward the entrance. “You’re always thinking of others, Mahlah.”

  Oh, Reuben. If he only kne
w.

  Tonight, she would be thinking solely of the daughters of Zelophehad and claiming their rightful inheritance.

  20

  Mahlah raced through the tents of the Levites to the tents of the tribe of Manasseh. She and her sisters would attend the assembly tonight and seek justice for their family. Her father had grumbled at the desert’s harsh conditions and bland food, but he believed in God. The blood of her grandfather, Hepher, ran through her father’s veins, and that same blood ran through hers. She and her sisters should be able to carry their father’s name, the firstborn son of Hepher, into the Promised Land. Woe to any man who uttered the same insult as Reuben and suggest she marry off her sisters outright.

  Rounding onto the wide path, she spied Noah passing Susanna’s tent.

  “Sister.” She tugged Noah toward their dwelling. “We must have a family meeting. I saw Reuben at the Tabernacle.”

  “Was he dressed this time?” Noah smirked. “You have been coy about the true meaning of his message.”

  “I did not care for his message, but I believe he has helped us without knowing it.”

  “The household of Nemuel help us?” Noah sputtered a laugh. “You have been in the desert too long. Save Susanna, they have rarely shown us kindness. Where was Nemuel’s praise after you saved his family from the plague?”

  Mahlah pushed Noah into the cooking courtyard, distracting the rest of her sisters. “It will all be different soon.”

  “This I must hear.” Noah snatched a manna cake from a nearby basket.

  “Hey. I just made those,” Hoglah protested.

  “Then they’ll be hot.” Noah bit into the cake. “Besides, Mahlah has called a meeting, so I cannot wander elsewhere.”

  “A meeting? For all of us?” Tirzah asked.

  “Yes, but not out here.” Mahlah scanned the path. Praise be, women were intent on their duties and not on their orphaned neighbors. “Slowly, go inside the tent.”

  Milcah helped Hoglah remove the last of the ground manna cakes from the heated stone.

  Noah picked up Tirzah and playfully carried her into the tent.

  Sauntering inside last, Mahlah pulled the tent flaps taut. She motioned for her sisters to gather and sit in the center of their home.