Children of Eber (The Generations Book 4)

by Caryl McAdoo

  He stood guard until the sun touched the earth. Against his will, he slipped to the ground. Sleep pulled him into the deep, and a horror of great darkness engulfed him.

  Know of a surety that your seed shall be a stranger in a land that is not theirs and shall serve them and they shall afflict them four hundred years And also that nation whom they shall serve will I judge

  and afterward shall they come out with great substance

  you shalt go to thy fathers in peace be buried in a good old age

  But in the fourth generation they shall come hither again for the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet full

  When the sun set completely, and darkness filled the land, a smoking furnace and a burning lamp passed between the pieces.

  Unto your seed have I given this land from the river of Egypt unto the great river

  the river Euphrates

  The Kenites and the Kenizzites and the Kadmonites And the Hittites and the Perizzites and the Rephaims And the Amorites and the Canaanites and the Girgashites and the Jebusites

  Sarai tied that day’s knot into the leather string, then tossed it on top of the year’s moon strings. Ten years in the land. Yes, the Lord had shown Himself mighty in all save the one which mattered most, but no, her heart could never be fully content. Hagar drew the veil back and stuck her head inside Sarai’s inner room.

  “The water boils. Shall I have them bring in your copper tub?”

  For a handful of beats, her heart denied her thoughts. Still, she nodded. “Yes, dear one. Have the maids bring it and fetch the seamstress, too. Tell her we have need and to bring that shear pomegranate material my husband took in trade.”

  “The see-through bolt, my lady? Or the more opaque one?”

  “Both.”

  The Egyptian beauty nodded then hurried to obey. At least she, too, had remained childless. A pity she’d never known a man…or experienced the true love shared between a husband and wife that Sarai had enjoyed since her youth. Everyone knew of Abram’s adoration and love for her—even through her years of whining for a child.

  Before short shadow, all was ready. The young woman cast in a handful of salts, added a few drops of sweet lavender oil, and swirled the water before smiling up at her. “It’s perfect, my lady.”

  “Good. Get in.”

  “Me? You want me in your bath?”

  “Yes, well, this day, it will not be mine, but your own.” Once the girl soaked neck deep in the steaming water, Sarai clapped three times. Her oldest servants hurried in. Each in turn registered surprise then went about tending to Hagar as though she were the mistress of the tent, not just the mistress’ slave.

  It took through the midday meal to make the transformation, then most all of the afternoon for the material to be cut and sewn. Layer upon layer left only the slightest hint of the young lady’s shape. It blessed Sarai to see how the dark-skinned woman relaxed and relished the luxurious treatment, and her gratitude hardly stopped.

  Upon her command, the cooks brought cheese and hard bread with a handful of dried dates and a bladder of the best wine. She sat Hagar on a pile of her softest pillows with the food before her. “I want you, my dear, to wait here until I send word, then do as I say.”

  “Yes, of course, my lady.” The girl nodded, but seemed quite perplexed at all the lavish treatment. She tore off a piece of bread and tasted the cheese. “As always.”

  Sitting with Abram in the big tent, she managed to get down a few bites of bread and honey, but had to have her cup refilled three times to wash it all down. Her insides teetered on the edge, and once, she thought she might even be sick. It must have shown, for twice he inquired of her well-being, but didn’t press her.

  Finally, the evening meal ended.

  She stood and looked to the servants. “Take all but the wine and leave us.”

  When only her oldest maid remained, she nodded to the woman then faced her beloved. “The Lord has restrained me.” Her voice cracked and her vision suddenly blurred. She blinked to keep the tears in place then swallowed hard. “From bearing a child.”

  He stood and eased closer, then his eyes looked over her shoulder. She turned slightly. Hagar strolled in, a vision of loveliness, veiled with her fluffed dark tresses flowing over her shoulders. Pleased and at the same time torn, Sarai looked back to her husband. He stared at the girl. Hagar stopped right in front of Abram.

  Stepping behind her, Sarai removed the veil then all but the sheerest layer of the cloth. She then put her lips to the girl’s ear. “Go now to my bed.”

  Without a word the maid complied.

  Sarai put both hands on Abram’s chest. “Please, beloved, go into my maid. It may be that I will obtain children by her.”

  He stared for the longest, inhaled deeply, then nodded once before turning toward her maid.

  Tears threatened again, but she quickly turned and left so he wouldn’t see. Outside the tent, she lost her dinner and all the wine. It killed her heart, but she had no choice. There was no other way. God had refrained her from bearing, and Abram needed an heir—one who came from his bowels, not just one born in his house.

  She retreated to the women’s tents and remained there for the bride’s week.

  Her maid had become wife to her husband.

  After seven miserable, long nights alone, Sarai put Hagar out of her bed. A moon’s cycle later, she couldn’t decide between being elated or despondent that the girl’s custom of women had not come upon her. So soon?

  Then one horrible morn, her sin became apparent. Without a word to anyone, she marched into Abram’s tent, dismissed Eliezer with a look, then faced her husband.

  “My wrong be upon you. I gave my maid into your bosom, and now that it’s certain she has conceived…” She threw herself against his chest. “Oh, Abram! You should have seen the look in her eyes! She despises me now. May the Lord judge between me and you.”

  Why had she said that? He was God’s prophet, she only his barren sister.

  He wrapped his arms around her. “Wife, she is in your hands. Do to her as it pleases you.”

  His words smothered the scorch in her heart, but it still smoldered. She lingered in his embrace. Why had she been so foolish to conceive such a heinous plan?

  And why had he harkened to her voice?

  On leaving the big tent, she found the girl chatting with the cooks, munching on hard bread and a fat chunk of fresh goat cheese.

  “Hagar.”

  The girl’s lips curled into a smirk. “Yes?”

  “The chamber pots need to be emptied.”

  She nodded. “I’ll get someone to see to it after I’m finished eating.”

  Like a stiff breeze on embers, the girl’s words fanned the burning embers in Sarai’s heart. She swiped the food out of her maid’s hand. “No, Hagar. You will do it yourself, and you will do it now. Each and every tent. By yourself. Start with mine and Abram’s.”

  The girl sat dumbstruck for a double handful of heartbeats, then stood. Her eyes blazed, but she held her tongue. The silence rang loud, booming between her and her maid. Finally, the girl turned and marched out, hopefully straight to his tent; probably to complain, but Abram would set her straight, let her know who held his heart.

  Even if Sarai didn’t carry his child.

  Hagar made a big show of holding her belly while she lugged out Abram’s chamber pot, but her baby’s father didn’t seem to notice. If he had, he obviously didn’t care. She gathered each tent’s commode, emptied, then scoured them clean with fresh sand as though a newly bought slave who had never been in Pharaoh’s palace, or carried the tribe’s heir in her womb.

  That night while she tossed and turned, hunting just the right position in her bed to rest her sore muscles and aching back, a thought crept from her heart. Although she had done only what her mistress bade, Sarai’s love for her turned to hate. The old hag—except still just as gorgeous as ever—was jealous!

  Acting as though Hagar’s bearing Abram’s child were her id
ea—or his, Sarai blamed her discontent on Abram, then her servant, when the whole idea had been her own from the start. The woman proved unbearable. It certainly wasn’t Hagar’s fault that the spoiled mistress had born no son to be Abram’s heir.

  Things would only get worse, too, the closer she got to delivery. She should flee from the presence of the horrible first wife.

  Leave, that’s what she’d do. The perfect answer. But to where? She couldn’t go back to Egypt. The question burned as the days passed with Sarai finding new chores every day. Seven full days Hagar endured, then before the sun rose on the eighth, she shouldered the pack with secretly gathered water bladders, dried meats, hard breads, and cured cheeses.

  Trailing west, she turned south at the dry creek bed, careful to only tread on the larger rocks.

  By sunrise, she walked where she’d learned the herdsmen planned on grazing the sheep that day. If Abram—or anyone—sent trackers, her steps would be covered. But who would? She was deranged to think anyone there cared one bit about her or the child she carried. No one would come. Except perhaps to drag her back and punish her.

  Caution might protect her baby.

  That first day she made fifty, perhaps even sixty, furlongs. More distance than expected, but then the week of manual labor had hardened her some. The next day, not as far, though she reached the wilderness on the way to Shur. She found the fountain of waters Abram had pitched the tents around when he came out of Egypt so many years before.

  She’d been only a child then and Sarai had loved her, been kind and caring as Hagar imagined a mother might.

  While she refilled the bladders, she counted on her fingers exactly how many years had passed since she left Egypt with her new mistress, excited to have a new, promising life before her. How wrong she had been. Nine if she had it right. And it had come to this. From treasured confidant to prized second wife to fugitive.

  HAGAR SARAI’S MAID FROM WHERE HAVE YOU COME AND WHERE WILL YOU GO

  A light shined so bright, she had to shield her eyes.

  A voice? But whose?

  Looking all around, she saw no one, but answered aloud with the truth. “I flee from the face and hatred of my lady.”

  RETURN TO YOUR MISTRESS AND SUBMIT YOURSELF TO HER

  I WILL MULTIPY YOUR SEED EXCEEDINGLY THAT IT SHALL NOT BE NUMBERED FOR MULTITUDE

  A warmth settled over her heart. It had to be Abram’s God Who spoke to her.

  BEHOLD YOU ARE WITH CHILD AND SHALL BEAR A SON AND SHALL CALL HIS NAME ISHMAEL BECAUSE THE LORD HAS HEARD YOUR AFFLICTION

  HE WILL BE A WILD MAN

  HIS HAND WILL BE AGAINST EVERY MAN AND EVERY MANS HAND AGAINST HIM AND HE WILL DWELL IN THE PRESENCE OF ALL HIS BRETHREN

  Accustomed to obedience, she turned her face north and did as Abram’s God bade. On the afternoon of the fourth day of her travel back, she walked into her mistress’ tent. Sarai glared, obviously not the least bit glad to see her.

  Hagar bowed her head, then when she neared, fell to her face. “Forgive me, my lady, for leaving without your permission.”

  Chapter Ten

  For a full moon, Hagar did exactly as her mistress bid. But one fine day while Sarai busied herself with the cooks, Hagar slipped into her master’s tent and waited with her chin on her chest until he bid her near.

  “Is it well with you, Hagar?”

  “Yes, lord. The God of Abram spoke to me and told me to return to my mistress.”

  “Did He say more?”

  She nodded. “Yes, lord. He told me I would bear you a son, and I should call his name Ishmael because the Lord had heard my affliction.” She lowered her head, keeping her eyes on him.

  “What else?”

  She stepped closer, his tone giving her boldness. “That our son will be a wild man. His hand will be against every man, and every man’s hand against him. Your God said he will dwell in the presence of his brethren.”

  “Did you see the Lord?”

  “No, my lord. But I heard His voice. I call Him the God that sees me.”

  “Ishmael, you say? That’s to be our son’s name?”

  She nodded then backed away a step. Though she waited for him to say more, her heart booming in her chest, he remained silent, and she turned and hurried out. A wife in name only. Her mistress held his heart.

  Her days were fulfilled, and she delivered a son just as the Lord had said. Her husband named the boy Ishmael.

  From the first, also in accordance with God’s Word, the child acted like a little wild man, but she loved him all the more for it, beyond measure. She gave thanks to her master’s God for the blessings the boy brought to her life.

  Still, Sarai remained aloof and distant. Hagar often caught her glaring.

  Abram hated the hurt in Sarai’s eyes, but out of her own mouth, she had said for the Lord to choose between him and her. She’d tried to put the blame on him for taking her maid to wife, but God knew. As the boy grew, each time she saw him, it had become apparent he only reminded her that she’d birthed no children herself.

  The child she hoped to get from Hagar didn’t want anything to do with her. No doubt the maid poisoned him against her. The whole situation saddened him for he loved the boy, saw so much of himself in the lad. If only he didn’t have to be always mindful of Sarai and her heartache.

  Most expressed amazement to learn he’d fathered a son at eighty-six. Compared to his fathers, though, he was still young. But poor Sarai. What a shame for his beloved that the custom of woman left her and came no more. Fathering a child…with her…nothing would compare, but he had Ishmael, and he would do. The heir from his loins the Lord promised.

  Surely, he could tame the lad’s wildness. After all, his son was bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh.

  For the next thirteen years, Abram heard not a word from God. The Lord blessed him with peace and wealth beyond measure. And his heir. Then on the eighth day of the second month, he woke early, dressed quickly, and strode out to his stone altar. Just beyond shone a light brighter than the midday sun.

  Radiating, Love stood with his arms outstretched.

  I AM THE ALMIGHTY GOD WALK BEFORE ME AND BE PERFECT AND I WILL MAKE MY COVENANT BETWEEN ME AND THEE AND WILL MULTIPLY THEE EXCEEDINGLY

  Abram fell to his knees, pressing his face to the ground.

  AS FOR ME BEHOLD MY COVENANT IS WITH THEE AND THOU SHALT BE A FATHER OF MANY NATIONS NEITHER SHALL THY NAME ANY MORE BE CALLED ABRAM BUT THY NAME SHALL BE ABRAHAM FOR A FATHER OF MANY NATIONS HAVE I MADE THEE

  AND I WILL MAKE THEE EXCEEDING FRUITFUL AND I WILL MAKE NATIONS OF YOU AND KINGS SHALL COME OUT OF YOU

  AND I WILL ESTABLISH MY COVENANT BETWEEN ME AND THEE AND THY SEED AFTER THEE IN THEIR GENERATIONS FOR AN EVERLASTING CONVENANT TO BE GOD UNTO THEE AND TO THY SEED AFTER THEE

  AND I WILL GIVE UNTO THEE AND TO THY SEED AFTER THEE, THE LAND WHEREIN THOU ART A STRANGER ALL THE LAND OF CANAAN FOR AN EVERLASTING POSSESSION AND I WILL BE THEIR GOD

  The pure joy of being in His presence overwhelmed Abraham’s heart. A new name and renewed promise.

  THOU SHALL KEEP MY COVENANT THEREFORE THOU AND THY SEED AFTER THEE IN THEIR GENERATIONS

  THIS IS MY COVENANT WHICH YE SHALL KEEP BETWEEN ME AND YOU AND THY SEED AFTER THEE

  EVERY MAN CHILD AMONG YOU SHALL BE CIRCUMCISED

  AND YE SHALL CIRCUMCISE THE FLESH OF YOUR FORESKIN AND IT SHALL BE A TOKEN OF THE COVENANT BETWIXT ME AND YOU

  AND HE THAT IS EIGHT DAYS OLD SHALL BE CIRCUMCISED AMONG YOU EVERY MAN CHILD IN YOUR GENERATIONS HE THAT IS BORN IN THE HOUSE OR BOUGHT WITH MONEY OF ANY STRANGER WHICH IS NOT OF THY SEED

  HE THAT IS BORN IN THY HOUSE AND HE THAT IS BOUGHT WITH THY MONEY MUST NEEDS BE CIRCUMCISED AND MY COVENANT SHALL BE IN YOUR FLESH FOR AN EVERLASTING COVENANT

  AND THE UNCIRCUMCISED MAN CHILD WHOSE FLESH OF HIS FORESKIN IS NOT CIRCUMCISED THAT SOUL SHALL BE CUT OFF FROM HIS PEOPLE HE HATH BROKEN MY COVENANT

  Abram raised up but stayed on his knees. The warmth of God’s peace flow
ed through him. “Yes, Lord. At Your Word.”

  AS FOR SARAI THY WIFE, THOU SHALT NOT CALL HER NAME SARAI BUT SARAH SHALL HER NAME BE AND I WILL BLESS HER AND GIVE THEE A SON ALSO OF HER AND SHE SHALL BE A MOTHER OF NATIONS KINGS OF PEOPLE SHALL BE OF HER

  Abraham fell back to the ground, and a chuckle escaped. Would a child be born unto him at the age of a hundred? And would Sarah, who was ninety years old, bear a baby boy, his rightful heir? How could those things be possible? In the days of old, of course. Why, Noah was five hundred when his triplets were born. But not since…. Wait!

  He rose back up and looked right at God. “Oh, that Ishmael might live before you!”

  SARAH THY WIFE SHALL BEAR THEE A SON INDEED AND THOU SHALT CALL HIS NAME ISAAC AND I WILL ESTABLISH MY COVENANT WITH HIM FOR AN EVERLASTING COVENANT AND WITH HIS SEED AFTER HIM

  AND AS FOR ISHMAEL I HAVE HEARD THEE

  BEHOLD I HAVE BLESSED HIM AND WILL MAKE HIM FRUITFUL AND WILL MULTIPLY HIM EXCEEDINGLY TWELVE PRINCES SHALL HE BEGET AND I WILL MAKE HIM A GREAT NATION

  BUT MY COVENANT WILL I ESTABLISH WITH ISAAC WHICH SARAH SHALL BEAR UNTO THEE AT THIS SET TIME IN THE NEXT YEAR

  The Lord’s words hung heavy as the Almighty went up from Abraham. He pressed his forehead back to the earth and continued worshipping, but before long, the desire to be obedient propelled him back to his encampment. He found Eliezer talking with the head shepherd.

  “Assemble all the men and boys in my tent.”

  His steward bowed. “My lord, the infants, as well?”

  “Yes, from eight days old and upward.”

  “As you desire, lord. Should I call the herdsman in from the pastures? Or wait until even?”

  “No, send runners after them, and sharpen the knives.”

  Questions sprang into the man’s eyes, but he voiced none of them. Abraham dismissed him with a slight nod then hurried to his tent where his wife worked on a tapestry in the midst of three of her maids. “A word, my love.”