Till Shiloh Comes

by Gilbert, Morris

  “No. He is the problem.” Seeing Joseph’s look of surprise, he said, “Shortly after they got married, we began one of those pesky wars with the Hittites. Potiphar was sent out with the army, and he was wounded.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Very seriously for a man who wants children. He lost a very important piece of equipment. He is a eunuch now, for all practical purposes—an accidental one.”

  Joseph thought hard about that and then shook his head. “That must be very difficult.”

  “Difficult for his wife. She’s doomed to a life of chastity, and …”

  “And what?” Joseph asked.

  “Well, she is a young woman, and women have their desires the same as men. As you say, a tragedy. Well, come. Get out of there, and we’ll get you some fitting clothes. You’re to be my assistant, and I’ll be as hard a taskmaster as Ufa.”

  “I doubt that”—Joseph grinned—“and you won’t be half as ugly.” He scrambled out, and Masud looked over to where two of the Nubian slave girls, wearing scanty beaded costumes, were watching Joseph and giggling. “I wouldn’t advise you to have … relationships, shall we put it? with the female slaves. It could lead to difficulty.”

  “I believe you and it shall be as you say.”

  Masud looked at the two sleek, shining young woman and shook his head. “It won’t be easy. Those girls have no more morals than a cobra. Come along, boy. We’ll get you started on your new profession.”

  Chapter 9

  Kesi-el-Mutan, whose name meant “Woman of the Lilies,” had been beautiful since childhood. But now that she had reached the age of twenty-two, she was carefully dressed and pampered by her maids until her full figure and striking features were enhanced by the well-developed Egyptian cosmetic arts. Her face, with its high forehead and shadowy hollows in the cheeks, would not have been considered classically beautiful by the artistic elite, but any man who looked on her visage was so taken by her enormous eyes and sensuous mouth that he had no thought for comparisons with other women. As head of Potiphar’s household, she was inevitably a spoiled darling, and her every command was as though from the master’s lips.

  And yet for all her attractiveness, there was something missing from her countenance. Her expression revealed a deep dissatisfaction with her life, despite all her pampering. Masud, who studied her as he did every member of the house of Potiphar, understood the source of her discontent: She needs a man in her bed.

  Some women are careful to keep company with women less beautiful than themselves to elevate their own attractiveness, but Lady Kesi had no problems with the beauty of her best friend, Asenath, who was closer to her than any sister of blood. Asenath had a classic beauty—honey-colored skin, large well-shaped green eyes, beautifully shaped lips, and a way of moving that was enough to stir the heart of any man who watched her. Both of these two women were secure enough that each did not fear any competition from the other.

  The two of them had been in the court of Pharaoh for some time, waiting to be summoned into his presence. Late one afternoon they were given the summons, and they arose and went immediately into the throne room of his majesty Pharaoh Abadmon. The two women bowed continuously as they were ushered before the pharaoh and his wife, prostrating themselves before the royal couple until ordered to rise. As they stood up, they saw the afternoon sun streaming through the high arches of the throne room and flowing down over the faces of the pharaoh and his wife, Isiri. The couple they faced, seated on gold thrones above them, represented the formidable might of the royal household of Egypt.

  Pharaoh Abadmon was not an attractive man. He was undersized with a protruding belly and a frog face with small eyes and a pinched mouth. But his wife was one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom. Isiri’s beauty was such that she felt no jealousy over the beauty of the two young women standing before her. She smiled and said, “You two are like sisters.”

  “More than that, Majesty,” Asenath said quickly with a slight bow. “Many sisters do not care for each other, but Lady Kesi and I were brought up together and love each other very much.”

  “Indeed.” Kesi smiled and turned to look fondly at the woman beside her. “We seldom passed a day in our entire lives when we did not see each other.”

  Pharaoh Abadmon nodded. “It is good to have close friends.” Then he sighed heavily and shook his head. “The pharaoh, unfortunately, cannot have such a friend.”

  “Indeed not!” Lady Kesi exclaimed. “For friends must be equals, and who could be equal to the god-king of Egypt?”

  “Very true,” Isiri said, “but it means a lonely life for my husband.”

  Pharaoh Abadmon proceeded to talk at length about his difficult life as the god-king and how he was more important than all the gods put together. His wife nodded politely, agreeing that the weight of responsibility of ruling Egypt was far too great for any mere mortal to bear, and that only a god such as he could possibly live up to the task. Lady Kesi and Asenath nodded their heads too, taking their cues from Isiri to agree with every word the pharaoh uttered. The polite talk continued until the pharaoh addressed Lady Kesi directly. “Tell your husband I expect him to come to court soon. We have missed his presence.”

  “He will be overjoyed, Your Majesty,” Lady Kesi said, bowing low.

  The pharaoh clapped his hands, signaling that the audience with Lady Kesi and Asenath was over. Two guards approached at once to escort the ladies from the throne room.

  Leaving the pharaoh’s presence was a challenge. One could not simply turn around and walk away. It was necessary to back up and at the same time bend over, making obeisance, but the two women had developed a choreography that made even this difficult and ungainly exercise look graceful.

  When they were outside the throne room and the two guards left them alone, Kesi stood up straight and put her hands over her ears. “It is so difficult,” she uttered quietly, “to listen to the pharaoh. All he wants to talk about are the gods and how he is the highest of them all!” She leaned close to her friend and whispered, “Just to look at the man, you know he cannot be higher than the gods … but I would lose my head if he heard me say that.”

  Asenath laughed. “Well, you had better watch your mouth, then, Kesi. It is not worth losing your pretty head over such a man! You must learn to be thankful that you are even allowed into his presence.”

  “Bah! I have enough else to do in my life to keep me occupied.”

  Asenath looked around to make sure that no one else could hear their conversation. “You and I had better not let the god-king hear such heretical comments!” she said under her breath. “And the next time he calls for us, you know as well as I that you will come bowing and fawning before him just as you did today.”

  Lady Kesi smiled at her friend. “Of course you’re right, Asenath. You and I are not going to change the way things are.” As they walked toward the litters that were waiting to take them back to Potiphar’s house, she shook her head. “You would think the gods could at least produce a handsome offspring, instead of that potbellied frog face!”

  The two laughed, and Asenath agreed. “The gods should indeed be handsome. There’s enough ugliness in this world among humans and animals.”

  The two women entered Potiphar’s house and passed through the western hall, which looked out on an orchard. Asenath remarked, “That’s a beautiful sight, isn’t it?—where the sunset lights up the columns and fills the rooms.”

  Lady Kesi glanced at the scene and said, “You notice everything, Asenath. I suppose I thought it was pretty at one time, but anything you see every day loses its beauty.”

  “Not at all,” Asenath argued. “I never tire of the beauty of this home.” She stopped to look at the colorful murals covering the walls and ceiling, with their exuberant nature scenes—wild bulls running, so lifelike you could almost hear them snorting, crocodiles with their mouths wide open about to engulf a woman who was carelessly bathing on the banks of the Nile, white birds with long wings and l
ong beaks flying across the ceiling’s painted sky.

  The elegant doors leading outside were framed in glazed tiles, which were covered with hieroglyphics in blue, red, and green. The house was a marvel that could only be achieved by a very rich man.

  Lady Kesi became impatient with her friend’s attention to the surroundings she herself had taken for granted for years now. “Come along. My husband is usually sitting outside in the garden at dusk.”

  As she predicted, the two women found Potiphar in the garden, wearing a simple white robe draped over his bulky body. He was alone, and he glanced up at the two women with an expression that neither of them could decipher.

  “Well, how was the royal court?” he greeted them.

  “Boring—as usual,” Lady Kesi said. She made no move to kiss her husband, for their intimate life together was over, except for public ceremonial caresses.

  Potiphar looked at Asenath and said, “You’ve kept my wife company a long time. I’m afraid you spoil her.”

  “Oh no, sir, on the contrary. She spoils me.”

  Potiphar listened as the two women chatted, and finally when he’d heard all about their one-sided conversation with the pharaoh, he stroked his jowls and said, “I think the man’s insane.”

  Both women were startled.

  “You surely don’t believe that!” Kesi said, shocked. “After all, he is a god.”

  “Who says that a god can’t be insane?” Potiphar shrugged. “Some of the things we worship are downright stupid.”

  The two women stared at Potiphar. They did not really believe in the pharaoh’s divinity themselves, but they would never have uttered such bold blasphemy out loud.

  “He’s a self-absorbed child, but I don’t think he’s insane,” Asenath said with a shrug. “If he believes he is more powerful than all the gods, so be it. In the end, it’ll come to nothing.”

  “I think you’re right—in the end all gods come to nothing!”

  “What a terrible thing to say, husband!” Lady Kesi exclaimed, yet her eyes were laughing. “You shock me.”

  “I would like to, but I fear it would take more than my heretical comments to shock you, my dear wife.”

  The two women enjoyed Potiphar’s company. He was witty, knowledgeable, and knew intimately the inner workings of the court of Pharaoh and the vast hierarchy that spread throughout the kingdom.

  Finally Kesi rose and said, “Come along, Asenath. We’re not going to get any sense out of him.”

  “I must agree.” Asenath smiled. “Excuse us, my lord. We are both weary after listening to so much wisdom from the pharaoh.”

  “I’m sure you are.”

  The two women went back inside, giggling as they walked down the hall. Kesi was laughing at something Asenath had said, and just as they reached an intersection where one hallway crossed another, Asenath had her head turned toward Kesi and did not see the man who came from the other direction. She ran right into the large pottery vase he was holding, knocking it loose from the man’s grip so that it hit the marble floor and shattered into a thousand pieces. Even worse, the garbage and night soil it had contained splashed on the feet of the two women and on the lower portions of the man’s legs.

  Kesi screamed and Asenath jumped back, both of them wrinkling their noses at the rank odor. Kesi whirled and screamed, “You clumsy fool!”

  “I wouldn’t have a slave that clumsy in my house!” Asenath snapped, her eyes flashing. “Who is this?”

  Kesi realized she did not know the man. “Who are you?”

  “I am Joseph, Lady Kesi.”

  Joseph still had to perform disagreeable tasks assigned by Ufa, such as carrying out the night soil jars.

  “Where did you come from?” Kesi demanded. “Never mind!” she quickly added as she saw Ufa staring at them. He appeared to be hiding a smile, and Lady Kesi shouted at him, “I ought to have you whipped!”

  “Yes, my lady.” Ufa was stupefied. “But I—”

  “Anyone who would have such a worthless, clumsy oaf of a slave needs a whipping.”

  “It is not I who bought him but your husband, my lady.”

  “Then I will speak to Lord Potiphar. In the meantime I hold you responsible.”

  Lady Kesi looked then at Joseph, and her eyes narrowed. “You’re not Egyptian.”

  “No, my lady, I am a Hebrew.”

  “A savage from Canaan, I suppose.”

  “Yes, my lady,” Joseph said simply, then stood quietly as both women stared at him.

  Asenath snapped, “I would have him whipped if he were mine.”

  “You are right,” Lady Kesi said sharply. “Ufa, have him severely whipped.”

  Ufa grinned sadistically. “I can assure you he will feel the blows.”

  “Don’t spare him,” Asenath said cruelly. “Savages like that need to be tamed.”

  “I don’t trust you to do the job properly, Ufa,” Lady Kesi put in. “We will watch you whip the slave.”

  “Of course, Lady Kesi.”

  Ufa grabbed Joseph by the arm and said, “Come with me. I’ll teach you what happens when you are clumsy.”

  The two women, their noses still wrinkled at the terrible odor, followed Ufa to the outer court, where he dragged Joseph. He went over to the ornamental trees lining the courtyard wall and broke off a sturdy stick, the thickness of a man’s thumb but strong and hard. “On your knees and bow down, slave.”

  Joseph obediently knelt, leaned over, and crossed his arms over his chest. Both women watched as Ufa lifted the stick and brought it down full force on Joseph’s back. His thin garment tore, and as the blows resounded again, it was completely ripped away. The flesh began to be crisscrossed with welts and bleeding wounds, and finally Lady Kesi called out, “That’s enough, Ufa.”

  “I will be happy to continue, my lady,” Ufa wheezed, breathless with the effort.

  “No, that’s enough. Now have him clean up that mess in the hallway.”

  The two women turned, and Kesi said, “Come. We must bathe.” She began calling for her maids, who were not far away. As they left the courtyard, Kesi said, “He was clumsy, but that was an awful beating.”

  “He deserved it,” Asenath said with a shrug.

  “You know he’s better looking than most slaves.”

  Asenath laughed. “I didn’t notice,” she said, and her eyes sparkled. She knew as well as Masud that the wife of the impotent Potiphar was hopelessly attracted to men, but there was no outlet for her desires. Other women in society had affairs, but Lady Kesi had little opportunity for any indiscretions, for Potiphar’s servants kept close watch over her.

  “I hope Ufa hasn’t scarred his back.”

  “He’s only a slave, Kesi. Don’t worry about him. They don’t feel things like we do.”

  ****

  Masud made Joseph stretch facedown on a bench and cleansed his lacerated back. The whipping stick had broken the skin in many places, and Masud used a special ointment with a secret formula to numb Joseph’s entire back.

  “You are a great physician, Masud,” Joseph said gratefully.

  “Yes. I could have pursued that profession, but I didn’t.” He continued to cleanse and anoint Joseph’s back with the numbing ointment and finally said, “Those two women are dangerous. Both are spoiled to the bone.” He paused and thought, his brow furrowed. “Stay away from them, Joseph—especially the mistress.”

  “It’s hard to stay away from someone when I’m tied to this house. Maybe she’ll go away again. I hope so.”

  ****

  Potiphar listened as his wife told him what had happened. “He’s such a clumsy fool,” she said. “I’d like for you to get rid of him.”

  Potiphar usually gave heed to Lady Kesi’s requests when they did not interfere with his own comfort or his own plans. This time, however, he simply said, “No, that can’t be.”

  Kesi blinked with surprise. “Why not?” she demanded. “He’s only a slave.”

  “A slave, yes, but not only a s
lave. Once in a while one finds a jewel among these people. Joseph is one. He’s smarter than half the people in Pharaoh’s upper circle. Maybe smarter than any of them. I can use that. The Hebrew is a brilliant scholar. I may have to have Ufa beaten for his stupidity in harming such a valuable slave.”

  “But I told him to do it.”

  Potiphar smiled. “Well then, perhaps I should beat you, my dear.”

  Lady Kesi stared at her husband, then saw that he was speaking in jest. Still, she was upset. “He’s only a slave, Potiphar.”

  “Nevertheless, I intend to get my money’s worth out of him.”

  “I hate the look of him.”

  “Then don’t look.” Potiphar was tired of the argument and turned and walked away.

  Kesi stared at him, her nostrils flaring in irritation. “He’s only a slave,” she muttered angrily, making up her mind that Joseph the Hebrew would get no consideration from her!

  Chapter 10

  “And so, my lord, by doubling the fields under cultivation with the new methods I have implemented, we have more than quadrupled our crop yield.”

  Potiphar sat on a high stool on his verandah, bent over the papyrus charts Joseph had laid out on a table before him, listening to his young servant explain his new farming methods. The master wore only a fine linen apron, his upper body bare in the glaring Egyptian sunshine. His enormous body seemed even larger without many clothes on. His eyes were narrowed to slits, and he did not move as Joseph continued with his report on the progress made over the year and a half since he had taken over Ufa’s responsibilities.

  Potiphar had become fond of Joseph in his own way, but he was not given to outward expressions of affection even with his own family, let alone any of his servants. Having been robbed of the natural means a man has to share intimacy with the woman he loves, Potiphar had thrown himself into other interests. He had become a collector of fine art and had spent an enormous amount of money on the golden objects he kept in a special room. The quest to enlarge his holdings was a game with him, and with Joseph at work on his accounts during the past months, his treasure had been almost doubled.