Lioness: Mahlah's Journey

by Barbara M. Britton

  “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 el
der 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.”

  26

  Mahlah’s stomach gurgled. With all the commotion and bickering, she had not eaten one morsel before Shuni and his relatives arrived. She slumped onto a sitting stone while Tirzah rambled on about melons. At least presently, no men practiced battle moves in front of her tent. She counted it a blessing that this day could only get easier.

  Noah held out a cup. “Would you like some milk?”

  “Please. My cheek aches, and I have spent more words than my mind had summoned this morn.”

  Hoglah flipped a manna cake into a basket. “Perhaps you should go back to sleep so your mind can prepare some welcoming words. Shuni and his brother will not set foot about our tent with the rudeness you showed them.”

  Mahlah tensed her grip on her cup and then thought better of cracking the baked clay. Shuni’s insult still lingered in her thoughts. She was not weak, but she held her tongue instead of rebuking Hoglah.

  “What was Mahlah to do? Side with those camel herders over our elder?” Noah capped the milk.

  Hoglah stood and brushed crumbs from her robe. “How can you defend our elder after his offense of Jeremiah?”

  Noah set the skin against the tent and shrugged. “Jeremiah could not hear the slander. Nemuel wasted his breath.”

  “You know it all, don’t you, Noah.” Hoglah kicked at the fire pit and trudged toward the wide path.

  “Wait.” Mahlah set down her drink and chased after her sister. “You must not leave us in anger.”

  “Oh, now you speak forcibly, when it is your sister and not a man of Asher.” Hoglah wrinkled her nose and tapped her sandal against the dirt.

  Her sister would not attract suitors with such an unbecoming scowl.

  “I will not speak against a leader of our tribe in public.”

  “You spoke against him at the assembly.”

  “I did not speak against him; I spoke for us. There is a difference.”

  Hoglah halted her foot stomping.

  “I promised mother that I would take care of her daughters.” Mahlah glanced at her sisters stationed around the fire pit. “We could not have a future together without land.”

  “I do not need you to take care of me,” Hoglah said.

  Noah laughed. “I think you do. You ventured outside the camp and brought back a fever.”

  “Basemath wore the armlet. I did not take a single piece of jewelry.” Hoglah held out her hands to show their barrenness. “Besides, why don’t you chastise Eli? He was with us.”

  “I have challenged Eli.” Noah finished her drink. “He used fewer words than you, and he showed regret.”

  “Sisters, enough.” Mahlah massaged her temples. “There will be other men who come and seek a wife. May they show us more honor than Shuni and his kin. But know this; I will not be disrespectful to the leaders of our clan. God has placed them in authority, and we will show them the respect they deserve.”

  “Then Shuni was right about you. You kick a wheel down a hill and stop it halfway.” Hoglah marched a few paces toward the outskirts of camp.

  Mahlah’s muscles tensed at her sister’s foolish assessment. O Lord, soften her heart.

  “Wait,” Mahlah called. She was still the firstborn and overseer of their tent. “Take Tirzah with you. Do not walk alone.”

  “Ah.” Tirzah moaned. “My stomach is too full.”

  “All the better.” Noah grabbed Tirzah and tickled her sides. “The manna will not keep until tomorrow. Run and you will be hungry again.”

  “What about me?” Milcah asked. “Do I have to clean out the fire pit alone?”

  “You and I are going to the market to buy some melons. I can provide fruit better than what Shuni brought us.” Mahlah picked up an empty satchel. “Noah can clean the cooking courtyard.”

  “I can?” Noah mumbled with a mouth full of manna.

  “We all have to hear words we do not like.”

  Mahlah grabbed Milcah’s hand and headed toward the tents closest to the river. In a foreign market, she could stroll casually among the booths and not bear the burdens of the oldest daughter of Zelophehad.

  27

  The tang of garlic and nutmeg hung in the air surrounding the market. Saliva pooled in Mahlah’s mouth. Her jaw tightened from the anticipation of food. She should have grabbed a manna cake before leaving camp. Sauntering among foreign barterers and buyers, she embraced her anonymity. Here among strangers and a few Hebrews, she was not the troublesome woman from Manasseh.

  Milcah pointed at a booth resting under the branched shade of a tamarisk tree.

  “He has melons.” She pulled Mahlah toward the vendor. “Look at the size. Hoglah will soon forget about Shuni’s gift.”

  “It is not the gifts I am worried about.” Mahlah dodged around a cart of caged birds. “If only our sister would forget about Shuni.”

  “Do you not want her to marry?” Milcah stopped at the corner booth and inspected the closest wares.

  Mahlah leaned nearer her sister. “She does not have to rush. She has more to offer a man than companionship and children. Our portion of land will be passed down for many generations. When we are dust, the land will still be here.”

  “Will we have a patch for melons?” Milcah’s smile was all teeth.

  “We can grow anything you desire. After our first harvest, we will shout out about our large fruit.” Mahlah kissed her sister’s forehead. “Now pick a sweet one before we are shoved aside.”

  Milcah elbowed her way in front of the seller. “Do you have a ripe one for me?”

  The merchant scrounged in his coin purse. “My wares are on this wagon. Pick one and be silent.”r />
  Before she could draw her sister to another merchant, Milcah fluttered her eyelashes. She let out a breath longer than her thin frame.

  “The sweet taste of melon will calm our sister’s ills.” Milcah pouted at the man.

  The merchant cast a glance between her and Milcah.

  Not one to feign distress, Mahlah gave a wistful smile. “We came a distance. Surely, there is one better than the others.” She rested a hand on her younger sister’s shoulder.

  “Buy one of these for tomorrow.” The merchant thumped the closest melon. “I will sell you another that I keep for my best customers.”

  Her mouth gaped. This foreigner knew nothing of God’s ways.

  “I can purchase for today only. Our God provides for tomorrow.”

  “Hebrews.” The man did not hide his disgust.

  If she hadn’t trudged in the heat of day to secure a peace offering for Hoglah and Tirzah, she would have turned away. She displayed a coin from her satchel. “A Hebrew’s coin spends the same as a Moabite’s.”

  The merchant grabbed her money and tossed her a melon.

  Instantly, its succulent scent filled the warm air.

  Milcah beamed. “I knew he had ripe ones.”

  “You can carry it then.” Thank You, Lord, for small victories. “Shall we head back to camp and slice it.”

  Nodding, Milcah clutched the melon to her belly.

  Mahlah burrowed through the crowd. The swarm of buyers waned as they reached the well-trodden path leading to their camp.

  Laughter, taunting yet celebratory, rose above the occasional shout of barterers.

  Turning toward the raucous voices, Mahlah recognized Helek and a few of the fighting men from their tribe of Manasseh. Helek strode through the marketplace like a king parading in front of a conquered city. Swords hung from the hips of Helek’s kin. She could not glimpse Helek’s sword. She saw only his robe. His newly won robe. A robe hemmed in scarlet and purple and adorned with dark forms resembling animals.

  Her stomach hollowed as if a breeze off the river whipped through her belly.

  “That’s the thief’s robe.” Milcah’s fingers tightened around Mahlah’s wrist. “It belonged to the bandit who tied up our goat.”