~/*\~Satau~/*\~
It was the first time in months that his father had missed a lesson. Satau went looking for him, and couldn’t find him anywhere in the Temple. He went back to his classroom to talk with Nem-ur, but the Prince wasn’t there either.
Khnem came in, frowning. “What happened? I was told to meet our father here immediately. The Foremen are all in a scramble, trying to rearrange schedules and transport for the workers. What did I miss?”
Satau had no idea, and was about to tell his brother so, when Jambres came sweeping into the room. He turned and gestured for his sons to stand before him. “Listen up, something happened this morning, and I have to give you two some background: Years before either of you were born, the Pharaoh Ramensti’s daughter adopted a child and named him Moses. He was raised in the Palace, but held no official position in royal succession. Nor did he take any title, or royal privileges because he refused the honors.”
“Why?” Khnem asked, bewildered by that.
“Who knows?” Jambres dismissed that instantly. “Forty years ago, Moses killed a Foreman who was punishing a slave, and family connections couldn’t help him. He fled Egypt before he could be arrested. They searched for him, but never found any trace of him in the wilderness. He was presumed dead… until today, when he suddenly walked into Pharaoh’s Royal Court and demanded the Hebrews be allowed to leave the country so that they could worship their God, Jehovah.”
“You let them out, they’ll never come back.” Khnem said immediately.
“I know this.” Jambres assured them. “So does Pharaoh. I imagine Moses does too. Nonetheless, he made the demand.”
Satau raised a hand. “Which god is this? I haven’t heard of Jehovah before.”
“Nor have I.” Jambres admitted. “Have your friend Takarut dig into that. There must be a record of it somewhere.”
“What did Pharaoh say?” Khnem asked.
“Pharaoh does not recognize Jehovah as real. Egypt does not know this God.” Jambres said seriously.
“Really?” Khnem blinked. “Rejecting the demand I understand. Why reject their God’s existence?”
“Egypt has hundreds of gods. Other nations have hundreds more. Why do you think we don’t recognize one from the Slaves?” Jambres asked reasonably. “It’s because the gods are a trust. They’re a responsibility. The gods share their existence with us. They entrust their worship to us. You can’t give responsibility like that to slaves, for the same reason we don’t give them authority over anything. They wouldn’t know what to do with it. They wouldn’t be able to do anything with it.”
Satau translated. “And what’s more, the slaves can’t have a recognized God, because recognizing Him means recognizing their right to worship Him. What else will that mean? A temple? A tithe? The slaves have never needed anything to believe before. Now they have a leader who isn’t a slave.”
“For now, I want the two of you to listen.” Their father directed. “There are two groups we need to concern ourselves with. The Court, and the Slaves. If Goshen is preparing an uprising, we want to hear about it early.”
“If they’ve sent someone to make demands of the King, the conspiracy must be pretty well established.” Satau commented.
“Satau, I’m assigning you to go find out just how established. Get names. And Moses’ location, if you can find him. They’ll almost certainly be hiding him.” The Priest turned to his elder son. “Khnem, you find out what our people are saying. There was a full court in attendance when Moses arrived. Without letting on, find out how everyone reacts. The King might be the last word, but the Court always has their own agendas. One way or another, they’ll want to take advantage.”
~/*\~
The Egyptian style was to be clean shaven, including the head. Other than that, Satau’s features could pass for Hebrew; if he changed his clothes. Wearing a wig was not a difficult disguise, compared to some of the tricks he’d learned for his father’s ‘miracles’.
A change of clothes, and a little of his own shaved hair, woven into a hairpiece, and he could walk through Goshen, all but unnoticed.
He knew that the slaves viewed their older ones as leaders. Egypt discarded men past a certain age, as they couldn’t work. The slaves had their own fields, but rations were not generous for those who didn’t work. So if the slaves kept their Elders fed, it was because they were respected. Satau started there, following the women who carried food and water, working his way deeper into the slave towns, towards the older men; listening to their conversations. The only announcements made in Goshen were from the foremen, who got their instructions from men like Takarut. Any news of their own was shared by word of mouth.
The Hebrews only have one God, and there are no temples or shrines… Satau thought. So if they gather for worship… they’d at least need holy men.
Satau had grown up in the Temple. He knew how to spot the teachers.
~/*\~
“Jehovah gives His blessing to those who He will. It does not depend on your age, your background… We know this, from the story of Esau. My grandfather taught me this lesson, and now I will teach it to you.” Tzioni intoned.
Satau, disguised as one of them, glanced around. He wanted to know where someone who looked like him should be sitting, but there didn’t seem to be the usual social structures here. He knew the Hebrews had tribes, but if any of them were prominent at this gathering, he couldn’t tell. The elderly and infirm were given a seat closest to Tzioni, so that they could hear him more easily.
“Esau was a skilled hunter. Issac approved this quality in his eldest son, who provided plentiful game. But Esau looked only to the material world. He clearly had little regard for spiritual things.” Tzioni continued. “We know this because as the firstborn, he held the birthright. Not only a position of privilege in his family, but also with Jehovah; who had promised that Issac’s line would be blessed.”
Satau found himself listening. He’d heard stories of Egypt’s gods every day of his life, and mixed in were stories of the great victories of the Kings of old. But here, this man was teaching his people with a family story. It was… unusual. The story of a firstborn being passed over for a blessing from his father made Satau think of his own situation with his father and older brother.
“One day Esau came home tired from a day’s hunt. He smelled the stew his younger brother Jacob was cooking and said: ‘I’m starving! Give me some of that red stew!’ Jacob offered to trade a bowl of stew for Esau’s inheritance as firstborn.” Tzioni told them. “A strange trade, to say the least. I mean, who among you would ask for that? Nonetheless, it’s what was offered… and Esau said yes. He traded something sacred for a meal, because he could smell the stew on the spot; and that was all he cared about.”
It was an interesting lesson. One that Satau had heard before, but not in this way. Certainly not from slaves. Slaves often lived meal to meal for their whole lives.
As if reading his mind, Tzioni made the same point. “Now, I’m not going to pretend that anyone here has a chance to become overly materialistic…” He drawled, and some of those assembled chuckled despite themselves. “But if one of the masters offered us a bowl of stew and some bread, what would we give them to get it? If they offered us easier labor, or better clothing… or for that matter, tempted us with freedom; what would they want in return? Would we betray our people? Our brothers? Our standing with Jehovah?”
“Never!” Someone shouted immediately. “Never!” A sentiment that rang out around them all.
“By tradition, the blessing, and the rights of the firstborn should have gone to Esau. It’s proof that Jehovah is not bound by expectations of men. Not in his judgments, or his blessings. The true children of Abraham are not necessarily those of fleshly descent, nor those who depend on their own works, but those of the faith of Abraham; whom Jehovah considered a friend.”
Satau glanced around. Everyone was listening. Nobody was jeering or hiding scornful amusement. Nearly a hundred people were listening intently, genuinely involved in the lesson.
Tzioni finished the teaching, and gestured for Ohad-Ittai to close the meeting with a prayer. Following the crowd, Satau bowed his head, though he peeked to make sure he knew where Tzioni was at all times.
“Jehovah God, our Father in all our trials…” Ohad-Ittai led the prayer. “We know that all suffering is a chance to strengthen our faith in You. We know that our time here is entirely at Your sufferance. We look to You for endurance, and courage; and compassion for those of us most in need. We thank You that we’ve survived every day so far individually, and more than a full generation of slavery as a people. As Your people. Amen.”
“Amen.” The crowd repeated.
Satau glanced about. With everyone’s head bowed, it was easy to observe. No ritual chants, no rote prayers. Odd. A God that will hear anything they want to say, whenever they want to say it.
~/*\~
The meeting broke up, and Satau followed the old man discreetly.
Tzioni went into a mud-brick building that was clearly not a home, and Satau glanced around to make sure he was unobserved as he followed.
Inside the building was a sarcophagus, easily as fine as any made by Egyptian craftsmen. It was a tomb, but not a shrine. The paradox between the tomb and the building was so odd that Satau didn’t know how to react.
Tzioni emerged from the shadow beside the door and stepped up behind him. “Why are you following me, Egyptian?”
Satau jumped, caught out.
Tzioni regarded him. “I know every face that comes to hear me speak. You’re the first stranger in many months. Do you have questions, or have you come to kill me?”
“If we wanted to hurt anyone here, we wouldn’t need disguises. We have chariots.” Satau lowered his voice. “I have come with questions.”
“Ask them. But I would ask that you not shed blood here.” The older man said softly. “This is a holy place to some of us.”
“I’m not armed.” Satau promised quickly; the acolyte recognizing the traditions involved, and he made respectful gestures to the tomb as he opened his robes enough to show the old man that he carried no weapons. “Not many people outside of Egypt are embalmed with such reverence.”
“Joseph was the greatest of us.” The Elder crooned with reverence. “Beloved son of Israel. When his father died, Joseph was great in Egypt. With the King’s blessing, he took his father out to the land of Canaan, and buried him there.” The old man met his eyes. “Can you read the name on the tomb, Egyptian?”
Satau looked. “‘Zaphenath-paneah’.” He read. “It means ‘Revealer of Hidden Things’.”
“Joseph was blessed with Insight.” Tzioni nodded. “Insights that saved Egypt in times of famine and hunger.”
“Blessed. By your God.” It wasn’t really a question. The Hebrews only had one God to worship.
“Joseph’s great-grandfather, Abraham, was given a prophecy. Abraham was told that his descendants would reside as foreigners in a land that was not theirs, and that they would be enslaved and afflicted for a time.” He took a shaky breath. “He was also told that Jehovah would judge the land that oppressed us, and that we would subsequently be brought to a good land. A land of our own.”
Satau’s head tilted. “‘For a time’.” He repeated. “Did that prophecy happen to mention how long a time?”
“It did.” Tzioni nodded coolly, as if expecting terrible consequences for telling the truth.
(Author’s Note: The prophecy given to Abram in Genesis 15:13 says that his descendants would face 400 years of oppression. Under the subject of ‘Chronology’, the Insight Book says: ‘Counting back 400 years from the Exodus… would bring us to 1913 B.C.E., and at that time Isaac was about five years old. It appears that Isaac was weaned then and, already “an alien resident” in a land not his, he now experienced the start of the foretold affliction in the form of Ishmael’s “poking fun,” Ishmael being about 19.’
The traditional view was that the Hebrews were slaves in Egypt for 400 years, but we can see this isn’t right by counting back from when the Exodus from Egypt began. The nation of Israel was expecting 400 years of oppression, but scripture doesn’t say when they thought that time started. They may have expected their time in Egypt to last centuries longer when Moses arrived.)
“Describing a time of judgment against us, and your people going free to your own land… is close to treason.” Satau set his jaw. “Is Moses the fulfillment of that prophecy?”
“I don’t know.” The older man creaked. “But it’s clear that he thinks so.”
“And your people? What do they think?”
“My people get the whip when they think something the King didn’t tell them to.” Tzioni scoffed. “And I’m old enough that I may not live to see any new homeland, even if we were set free tomorrow. That’s why I don’t mind talking to an Egyptian honestly.”
“Don’t let my heritage fool you, sir. I’ve never held a whip in my life.” Satau assured him. “But I have a master of my own, and he has tasked me to find answers. Chief among them is this: Are the Hebrews planning an uprising?”
Tzioni scowled violently, having been waiting for the questions. “That is exactly what we were afraid of.” He scorned. “Moses even speaking to Pharaoh caused our workload to double.”
“I hear that Moses spoke with the blessing of the Hebrew Elders.” Satau challenged.
“Moses wasn’t chosen by us. He came out of the wilderness and told us that Jehovah had spoken to him, and given him a message to deliver to Pharaoh.”
“And you agreed with this message?”
“We agreed it must have been Jehovah that gave it. He performed miracles for us. He said it was proof that Jehovah had spoken to him.”
“The Priests of Egypt have supernatural power also.” Satau commented. The lie came so easily, so practiced. Is it a lie? I serve in the name of Ptah, and Moses does the same thing for Jehovah? Does he have the same tricks my father taught me?
“Mm.” The older man said nothing to that.
Satau tried to coax him out. “I don’t understand people who only worship one god. Is the world really so small that your Jehovah is the only one needed?”
“Are Egyptian gods so small that there have to be a hundred of them to keep the world going?” Tzioni countered. “What if your gods disagree? Don’t your creation stories involve the Gods at war with each other?”
“Doesn’t yours? A serpent and a hero sent by God?” Satau returned. “One God is so… limited. It leaves you with nowhere else to go. What happens if Jehovah doesn’t answer you? Who else can you turn to?”
(Author’s Note: Almost every creation myth involving multiple Gods involves the world being formed by some form of conflict or competition. It’s possible that the Serpent/Messiah prophecies are the origin of Pagan myths. I wouldn’t be the first to draw parallels between Greece’s Hercules slaying the Hydra-Monster and the Promised Offspring of Genesis crushing the Serpent’s Head. Of course, there’s no way to be certain how a myth began.)
“I’m not going to pretend I was born, lived, and will die a slave because my God is quick to answer when I pray to him.” Tzioni sighed. “But Jehovah has His own time for things. And our people can trace our bloodline back to seventy people who came to Egypt years ago. Jehovah was our God long before we ever came here; and we were promised a future.”
Satau took him in. “Tell me about it?”
~/*\~
When Satau left the tomb, he noticed the girl again. The same one he’d been aware of on the rope-lines. She had been waiting at the door. She regarded him for a moment. “Follow me.” She said quietly, and turned to go.
He followed, without really thinking about it. After a while, he realized she was leading him out of Goshen, and doing so in a path that gave her neighbors less time to observe his presence. “What is your name?”
She said nothing.
“It’s not a trap.” He promised.
She still ignored the question. “We didn’t know that Moses was raised in the Palace.” Leahe said quietly. “The Elders did, I understand; but the rest of us weren’t born yet.”
“It makes a difference?”
Leahe’s eyes flashed. “We know that the current Pharaoh once had a brother. Two people cannot be heirs to the throne.”
“You think Moses is seeking to overthrow Pharaoh?” This was an idea that had not occurred to him, but he was suddenly certain that his father had thought of it right away. “Using the slaves as his army?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to Moses. I’ve never seen or spoken to Pharaoh, either. But slaves are used to being disposable tools in the games of powerful men.” She gestured at the Obelisk, visible across the river. “Every Pharaoh declares they need a monument bigger and grander than their father got; and it’s all just more stone for us to haul. When a High Priest wants to score points off a rival, we haul stone for that too.”
“And you?” Satau asked the pretty girl with a smile. “Where do you stand?”
Leahe said nothing, not meeting his eyes.
“Speak plainly.”
“I speak honestly to a friend, and it gets back to my father.” Leahe said softly. “I speak honestly to an Egyptian, and I can lose my head.”
“If it was something a master would want to hear, you wouldn’t mind saying it.” Satau pointed out. “You’re halfway there already.”
Leahe scowled. “I’ve never known a life but chains. I’ve never had a future that I had any say in. I want Moses to be real, and sent by Jehovah God. But barring that, I’d just like to get through my life with a minimum of beatings. My day is twice as hard than it was a week ago.”
“Because of Moses?” Satau asked casually, thinking the other half of the question to himself. Or because of Pharaoh? This was the critical question. If Moses was trying to rally an uprising, making them angry would be the natural first step.
Leahe said nothing.
“Speak plainly.” He directed her again.
“I’ve had a master all my life.” Leahe said finally, in a very small, hard voice. “Any kind of request, even the most reasonable ones, are given the same response. We know that. We all know that. Being a slave means there’s only one possible answer, no matter the question. The drivers, the foremen, the Masters… They only know one way to treat us. If Moses was holy in some way, he should have known that. Certainly, Jehovah would have.”
Satau had no real answer to that. Not one that would calm anything down. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt either.” He said finally. “This is the way things have been for longer than any of us have been alive. It’s likely the way it will always be. But that doesn’t mean I want it to get worse for anyone. Not even you. I’m not your enemy.”
“Aren’t you?” She said softly, and he could hear nothing but raw pain.
“I just want to know what comes next. Isn’t that what everyone wants?” He said kindly.
She reached out slowly, very carefully making sure he knew it wasn’t an attack, as she reached for his face, and peeled his false beard off. “I know you too.” She said softly. “You were the Acolyte that was with the Prince, learning of Egypt’s victories over Goshen.” She was almost amused. “If you want to know the future, don’t your gods tell you?”
Satau almost smiled back. “Thank you for walking me out of Goshen.”
They walked another few minutes before she spoke again. “My name is Leahe.” She glanced over to see his reaction. “Have I just signed my family’s death warrant?”
A real question. One that made his stomach flip for a moment. “No.” He promised. “Our secret. And if it matters, my name is Satau.”
~/*\~
Leahe took him to the edge of Goshen. Takarut was there, with a chariot. Leahe pulled back as Satau went to meet him. Takarut grinned. “Didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”
Satau didn’t answer that. “What are you doing here?”
“Your father asked me to find out what I could about this ‘Jehovah’.” Takarut commented to him. “The slaves are not often asked about their beliefs. Most of them do what their owners tell them to, including the observance of our rituals and festivals, but their own God is clearly part of their identity as a people.”
“As our gods are part of ours.” Satau agreed. “I have a lead for you. Search the records for a man named Zaphenath-paneah.”
“I’ve heard that name before.” Takarut thought aloud. “But I can’t recall where. Why? What’s the connection?”
“Apparently he’s the one Egyptian Noble that asked to be buried in the Hebrew homeland. My guess is this was before the Goshen Campaign.”
“I’ll look into it.” Takarut took the reins, and Satau stepped down quickly. “You’re not coming back to the palace?”
“Not yet. I’m working on a lead of my own.” Satau said, looking back at Leahe.
“I’ll bet you are.” Takarut scoffed, and cracked the reins, sending his chariot galloping back to the city.
~/*\~
Being overlooked for position as their father’s second had lessened Khnem’s reputation and standing, but he was still the eldest son of the High Priest, and that meant he was close to power. He was welcome to eat with the members of the Royal Court, or to gamble with the wealthiest people in the city.
Khnem made the rounds of these places, listening to the reactions and retellings of those who had been there.
“I don’t even know who Jehovah is.” The wealthiest woman in the Court told him. “I asked around. There isn’t a single Temple, not one shrine, not even an icon. Why should I take that seriously? You can tell your father that I am a loyal servant of our gods.” She said. “I have my staff join us for daily prayers every day. Including the Hebrews. I sometimes hear them praying quietly during the chants. They know they can’t refuse to join my family when we pray to Anubis. I gave them all a good whipping when they refused to join our worship once, and they’ve been obedient servants ever since.”
“You know you’re just getting lip service from the slaves.”
“I can probably say the same about my children.” She scoffed. “But that’s my point. We worship our gods regularly. The whole household. The Domestics don’t have an icon. I’ve never even heard of this God.”
~/*\~
It was the popular sentiment, and Khnem related that to his father, later in the evening as everyone reported their findings.
“Egypt has hundreds of gods. Most people only worship their patrons, plus a few others. Those that worry for the dead appeal to Anubis directly, those that concern themselves with the harvest appeal to-”
“I get it.” Jambres moved him along.
“Nobody’s heard of Jehovah.” Khnem summed up. “Nobody knows this god. If Moses is building a power base among fellow worshipers, the slaves are all that he has to choose from.”
Jambres took that in and turned to Satau. “And?”
“The slaves aren’t interested in an uprising.” Satau reported. “There’s some debate as to whether or not Moses is trying to organize a leadership challenge; but the slaves don’t care about power struggles in the Court. As a former noble, he might be able to claim a family connection.”
“We took care of that forty years ago. All records were destroyed. Time took care of the rest.” The Priest shook his head.
Satau nodded. “My sources say that the older ones among the Hebrews are aware of Moses, and most of them agree that he was sent by Jehovah to deliver a message. That message was not crafted by any of them.”
“The man came to challenge the Pharaoh on their behalf, and they didn’t tell him what to say?” Khnem couldn’t believe that. “Seriously. Who is this man?”
“I told you who he was forty years ago.” Jambres intoned. “Find out who he is now.”
Khnem bowed, and left the room.
Satau waited until he was gone. “Moses apparently convinced the Hebrew Elders by performing signs. If he comes back to the Court…”
“Unlikely, but best to be ready.” Jambres agreed. “What were his tricks? We’ll need something prepared.”
“You think he’ll perform the same tricks for Egyptians?” Satau guessed.
“Maybe even for Pharaoh, if they’re impressive enough.” Jambres shrugged. “If you’ve got a trick that works, you don’t need to learn a new one.”
~/*\~
“I was there for the confrontation.” Takarut confirmed to Satau when he asked. “It was the funniest thing I’d seen in months. He was older than water, wearing dusty sackcloth robes, and he had someone else do the talking for him.”
“This story just gets crazier every time I hear it.” Satau commented. “What did they think was going to happen? Of all the people the slaves could have chosen to lead an uprising, they pick this one?”
“I told the foreman of the Hebrews that their workload had been doubled.” Takarut told him. “My sources tell me they went straight to Moses and Aaron. They were ready to lynch him.”
Satau let out a breath between his teeth. “So what do we have? A slave uprising where the slaves aren’t involved? An exiled Royal coming back to challenge the King for the throne without any support from anyone? Or just some sun-baked lunatic who decided to show up and tell a world empire to send away its whole workforce, and somehow convinced another man to be his spokesman before the King?”
“Doesn’t make sense.” Takarut agreed. “But either way, I’ll wager the Hebrews will take care of the problem for you.”
“The slaves are split between the ones who hate him, and the ones who hope.” Satau countered.
“I doubt the ones who hope are going to do anything. Of the ones that hate him, it only takes one to walk up to him with a rock and make the problem go away.” Takarut returned. “It’s a solution that’s worked for a full generation or two. Nobody wants to make it worse, so even they make sure nobody sticks their head up. Nobody brings the hammer down, and everything runs smoothly.”
“Unless you’re a slave.” The thought came to Takarut from somewhere, but he shook it off.
~/*\~Julian~/*\~
“So.” Julian said calmly. “What happened?”
The police officer was clearly disgusted with the whole scene. “Zachary Hancock, age 19, came into the liquor store with a shopping list. The cashier said no, because he was underage. The kid was already high on something. We’re searching his car now. He went around to the drive-through section and paid a stranger a hundred bucks to buy him a six pack. He drank it in his car; and then drove home. On the way, he T-Boned a station-wagon with a family of four inside. The father’s still in the ambulance. The kids are already on their way to the hospital. Girl has a busted arm; the boy got his face cut by the broken glass.”
Gia glanced around. “The mother?”
“Went with the kids. The father needed a neck brace before being moved. Paramedics are making very sure he’s secured before they take him to hospital.”
“Where’s Hancock now?” Julian asked.
The policeman glared. “In the backseat of my car, with his hands cuffed. Exactly where he’s going to stay. You wanna talk to him, you come by the Precinct.”
“If he’s been charged, he has a right to legal counsel.”
“He called his lawyer before an ambulance.” The cop sneered.
“Which does not deny him the right to an attorney.” Julian said reasonably.
“And I’m betting he hasn’t been charged yet anyway.” Gia piped up. “You’re waiting to see what happens to the victims, right? So you can be sure of the maximum you can charge him with?”
The police officer growled and stepped aside. “You do not take him out of the car.”
Julian nodded and led the way.
Gia spoke to him quietly. “The kid didn’t call the ambulance. You did. How did you know he hadn’t done it himself?”
“I had a hunch.” Julian drawled. “Remember, the best work we do is when nobody knows we did anything at all.” By then, they had reached the police car. Zachary was there, looking vacantly into space. Julian opened the car door, but made no move to let him out. “Zachary.” He said by way of greeting. “Well, you’ve sure made a mess.”
“Don’t tell my father.” Zachary slurred, just clear enough to be terrified of that much.
“Oh, he’s going to find out.” Julian said seriously. “That Porsche you just wrecked? I’m betting it’s his.”
Zachary looked terrified. “What do I do?”
“You’re nineteen, right?” Julian checked, though he already knew. “Your trust funds have been made available to you?”
“Some of them.” Zachary nodded. “The rest, I get when I graduate college.”
“Knowing your family assets as I do, I’m betting it’s more than the other family will see in a lifetime.”
Zachary blinked. “What other family?”
“The family of four that you put in the hospital?” Gia sneered lightly.
Julian gestured for her to calm down. “Zachary, you’re going to pay their medical bills, you’re going to pay to fix their car, and you’re going to start a college fund for both kids. That, plus a typical settlement will probably be enough to keep them from pressing charges. Your father will find out, but it’ll happen after the matter is closed. You’ll be able to tell him you already fixed it.”
“That’s if they take the money.” Gia warned. “They may decide to fry you.”
Zachary shook his head. “They always take the money.”
Gia blinked, and looked at Julian, who never took his eyes off their client. “Don’t say anything else when they take you in. Not a word until I’m there, understand? Everything you say is on the record, so don’t give them anything.”
“I’ll try.” Zachary promised, weaving. “But I’m pretty drunk, so why would they believe me anyway?”
~/*\~
“We have to get to the hospital before the cops do.” Julian sighed, leading the way quickly towards the car. “I’ll drive.”
“I thought the joke was that lawyers chase ambulances. This time they’ll be behind us.” Gia commented dryly. The question was building in her. Once they were away from the crime scene, she only lasted a few minutes before she finally asked. “What did he mean, about how ‘they always take the money’?”
“Zachary Hancock is the eldest son of one of the wealthiest men in the state. You remember reading in the paper about all the other times he’s gotten wasted and started a bar fight, or followed some pretty girl home when he shouldn’t have?”
Gia blinked. “No.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s how you knew he hadn’t called an ambulance. Because he never has before.” She frowned. “He could have killed them, you know. Husband, wife, and two kids. He’s already put them in the hospital. Maybe he will kill somebody next time.”
“I know. I’ve arranged rehab for him, but his father shut that down. He didn’t want the gossip. He can’t do that this time.” Julian sighed. “But that’s a family problem. First, we have to convince the victims not to press charges.” He gripped the steering wheel. “It won’t be hard. I’ve done it before.”
~/*\~
The meeting at the hospital went as expected. A week later, he received a letter by direct courier. It was a nice, high quality card, with calligraphy and gold embossing.
Gia came into his office a few minutes later, waving an identical one. “I just got invited to a cocktail party.”
“Me too.” Julian held up his invite. “It’s at Hancock’s Penthouse. He knows he owes us after what happened with his son, so we’re on the ‘invite’ list.”
“We are?” She returned. “Because he called you. I’m not on Hancock’s radar.” She set her jaw. “Only way I get an invite, let alone one with calligraphy, is if you told him about me when you sorted this mess with his son.”
“You’re welcome.” Julian told her. “I know you don’t approve of Zachary Hancock. But if we only took on poor or innocent clients, there’d be no Firm, and you can’t stay a step behind me when we have to be lawyers. Not forever. So before you think about not going, remember that some of the most influential people in town will be at this party. Half the reason Hancock throws them is to have private meetings with the A-Listers. I know this isn’t Washington or New York, but we’ve got wealthy power players too. All of them are prospective clients, in need of counsel.”
“So Zachary was right?” Gia pushed lightly. “They always take the money?”
“A legal fight is expensive. So is a long stay in the hospital.” Julian nodded. “They know it’s not a fair fight, so they take the easy win while they can.”
Gia gave him a hard look, but said nothing. “I need to go rent a dress.” She settled on finally.
Julian checked the invitation. “I can bring a ‘Plus One’.” He commented. “I guess Martine will too.”
~/*\~Satau~/*\~
The full Royal Court of Egypt was not present. It was a routine meeting. The Pharaoh always had an audience, no matter what was happening. Jannes was there. With Jambres absent, he was not required to attend, but Satau stayed, just in case Jannes tried to take advantage of his absence in some way. Only one High Priest took the lead in representing the Temples before Pharaoh, but as High Priests of Ptah and Thoth (both of them credited with the power of creation), there was a certain amount of rivalry between the two of them, always.
Bakennifi made the report. “Almost five hundred slaves have died in the last few days. From exhaustion, mainly. This is above the average attrition among our workers. The extra workload is breaking them. My information tells me that the foreman have been far more stringent about breaks for water and food; and that the rations are being ignored, in favor of more work. They warn that the current trend cannot continue.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “With respect, Pharaoh… I am convinced that there is no hint of laziness driving down productivity. But hunger and exhaustion will do far more damage to our timetable than anything else.”
“Well, we seem to have corrected the problem.” Pharaoh said proudly. “Tell the foremen that I can be generous too, and if Moses and Aaron are willing to apologize and ask my forgiveness, I will be inclined to grant it… and limit any further punishment to the two of them alone, now that the slaves have made it clear they do not stand with the two troublemakers.”
Bakennifi cleared his throat. “Moses and Aaron are here, my king. They’re asking permission to address you.”
Satau, towards the back of the delegation from the Temples, felt his heart-rate spike. Moses and Aaron came here? Before they were summoned? They’re not about to apologize, surely…
The Pharaoh, on the other hand, seemed pleased. “Ahh. They must agree. Send them in.”
Moses came in first, Aaron a pace behind him, but when they stood before Pharaoh, Aaron was a pace ahead. It was not unlike delegations from foreign nations, with an ambassador in charge, but a spokesman making statements. But that was where the similarities stopped. They were wearing sackcloth robes and sandals. Moses looked like he’d come straight from his herds. They wore no ornaments, no icons, no gold or silver.
Jannes was moving slowly, away from the motionless Acolytes, sidling in closer to Pharaoh. It was clear he had been expecting this too.
Moses spoke softly in Aaron’s ear, and the other man spoke up. “Great Pharaoh, King of Egypt, lord of the two lands… You have failed to recognize Jehovah God!”
Satau was already moving. He shifted slowly until everyone’s attention was elsewhere, he walked casually until he was out of sight, and then ran like his life depended on it; which it probably did.
He ran all the way to his father’s private vault. “Father!” He called. “Moses and Aaron have returned.”
“Wasn’t that what we expected?” Jambres didn’t look up from his scroll.
“No. They came before being summoned. I saw them walk in. They’re not here to beg for mercy.” Satau was already scanning the shelves. “Which of these baskets hold the snakes? Jannes is already there.” He asked nervously. “And if we do this wrong, we go headfirst into the Nile.”
Jambres nodded. “So. First performance in front of the Court. A little earlier than I would have liked, but I have no doubt you’re ready.”
Satau appreciated it, but wasn’t as certain.
~/*\~
Jambres and Satau strode into the Throne Room subtly. All attention was on Moses and Aaron. Despite themselves, the Court had made deliberate room for them, letting the two men stand before the King. Nobody wanted to be too close to them.
“Since you appear to have missed the point last time, I will say this again.” Pharaoh was sneering at them scornfully. “This Court does not recognize the God of Slaves. If I do that, what message will your God want delivered next? A demand for your own Temples? Your own Priesthood? Holy Days off? You’ve already demanded the Slaves be freed from their work, and be allowed to leave Egypt at your will. Am I not the ruler of Egypt? You? You’re not a lord, not a King. You’re a… I don’t even know. What proof do you have of divine power?”
Moses spoke quietly to Aaron, who nodded, and held his staff out, making it level, and clearly seen. And then he dropped it.
The staff clattered to the marble floor, and then seemed to soften, curling in on itself. The wood moved, then rippled as the wood morphed to scales. A murmur broke out among those in attendance.
Despite the tensions of the moment, Satau was relieved to see the snake. It meant they had guessed right. If Moses had performed the leprosy trick, it would have been much harder to duplicate.
“Someone summon my High Priest.” Pharaoh said without looking away from the snake, amused by the show. “I do believe this is his job.”
“Allow me, my lord.” Jannes said immediately, striding forward; eager to serve.
“I am here now, my lord.” Jambres stepped forward, eyes bright with eagerness as everyone turned their attention to him, his staff clicking dramatically against the polished floor with every step; drawing attention to it.
Jambres strode to the middle of the room, making slow, sweeping gestures. He conjured smoke from somewhere, preparing the reveal. “By the power of Ra! The Glory of Ptah!”
Satau fought to keep his breathing even. He’d been practicing with his father for a while now, but this was the biggest audience of all, with the King watching from his throne. If he missed his cue, the show would fall apart. If he made a mistake and revealed the secret, he’d be put to a swift, brutal death.
As Jambres intoned the ancient incantations, they both held up their staffs…
The switch was smooth and practiced, so nobody noticed the staff vanish into his robes. But they saw the serpents leap, one from Satau’s hand, the other from Jambres’. The two snakes dropped in unison, side by side, and coiled on the polished floor.
The audience applauded, impressed by the show. Satau caught a glimpse of his brother, watching in awe from the doorway; as close to the Throne Room as he could get.
Jannes had a staff in each hand, one taken from his assistant, and did the same on the opposite side of the Throne. “By the glory of Thoth…”
The staffs passed through his robe, and two more snakes, adders this time, landed on the polished floor.
The audience applauded again, thrilled. Deep down, everyone knew it was probably a trick. Having Jannes do it simultaneously with both hands was a better trick; no matter how impressive the display of Jambres and Satau performing in sync.
Satau glanced at Moses and Aaron, who were unmoved. If they’d even seen the show, they made no reaction to it. The Cobra from Aaron’s staff had noticed, hissing violently.
This larger cobra wasn’t like the ones the Egyptians had ‘conjured’. Satau had kept the snake hidden in his robes by keeping it drugged. The one the Hebrews had tossed before them moved in on one snake, then the others, hissing as though the Priests had insulted it personally.
Snake-fights weren’t uncommon in some of the poorer areas of town; but this was the first one in the Throne Room. As the Court watched with interest, some of them cheering and placing bets, the larger serpent reared and struck, taking Satau’s snake between his jaws, and sinking the fangs in deep. There wasn’t time for it to hiss, before the Cobra began gobbling it down. Headfirst, the snake Satau had conjured went down the throat of Aaron and Moses’ cobra.
Satau froze, the staff suddenly heavy in his robe. The switch was meant to be reversed at the end of the trick. How could he do that now?
The Hebrews’ Cobra wasn’t finished, pouncing on the others instantly; gobbling them down. Drugged and sleepy, the other snakes weren’t in any shape for a fight, but Moses’ miracle Serpent was almost wrathful. The fight was one-sided, gruesome, and over in moments. The Cobra coiled, and reared upright, spitting venom towards the High Priest, as if promising more.
There was dead silence from the Court. The show was a diversion, until everyone realized the symbolism of the nation’s two most highly ranked High Priests losing the ‘fight’, when they had the advantage in numbers and authority.
Pharaoh was trying not to laugh at the startled look on Jambres’ face, unconcerned with Moses; who stepped over to the cobra, and picked it up by the neck. By the time the old man had straightened up, the snake had grown rigid, solid… Moses brought the transformed staff down, its solid, wooden tip sounding off the marble floor loudly in the sudden silence.
“As with all false gods, the Truth is coming as a conqueror.” Aaron intoned, as Moses handed him back his staff.
Pharaoh hadn’t moved, untouchable even as his Court went from applauding, to cheering wildly, to surprised silence. Finally, he spoke, bringing everyone back to the point. “Egypt does not recognize Jehovah as a god of anything. And my amusement with your amateurish flailing towards treason has run out.” He declared. “Get out. Return to Goshen to remind your people that their new workload is unchanged, thanks to you. Or perhaps, thanks to Jehovah, who clearly feels that their discipline has been lax; just as we do.”
He snapped his fingers, and the guards recognized their cue, coming over to seize Moses and Aaron, casting them out of the Palace.
~/*\~
Jambres returned to the Shrine, Satau trailing behind. Once he was sure they were alone, he took his father’s staff out from under the cloak. “What shall I do with this, then?”
“Burn it.” The Priest said immediately. “Before someone figures out how we got the staff back.”
Satau nodded and promptly broke the staff in two, keeping the pieces hidden under his robe; then doing the same with his own. He turned to go, then glanced back. “The serpents we used in our own… miracles? They’re kept well fed and even a little drugged. How did they pull the same trick if their serpent was ravenous enough to eat the others whole?”
The Priest scoffed. “Who knows? If it bit him a dozen times without us knowing? That would probably solve our problem for us.”
One of the Temple Guards came in discreetly. “Takarut, the Scribe, is here. He asks to speak with you both, my lord.”
Satau quickly checked to make sure the broken staff was well hidden, and Jambres waved for the guard to let him in.
Takarut came in and bowed to Jambres. “Satau’s investigations in Goshen turned up a name. ‘Zaphenath-paneah’.” He reported. “I went looking through the Palace archives, and found him. I also found Jehovah.”
Jambres straightened up. “Tell me.”
“Before the Goshen Campaigns, it seems the Hebrews came to Egypt by the order of the then Prime Minister, Zaphenath-paneah. He was a Hebrew.”
“He was?” Jambres was surprised. “I know of Zaphenath-paneah. He was famed for his foresight. My grandfather told me he was given knowledge of the future by our Gods to prepare for a great famine.”
“A famine so great that the Prime Minister ordered his extended family to be brought to Egypt for their safety. A household of seventy people.” Takarut nodded. “But the records say that the Prime Minister’s foresight was given by Jehovah. He was quite clear on that.”
Jambres twitched. “That’s not how I heard the story.”
“I cannot speak to that, sir; but Zaphenath-paneah left several writings in the Palace Archives, and all of them give credit for his prescience to his God alone.” Takarut explained. “He refused our Temples entirely; and his sons were given their inheritance in Goshen, as descendants of Israel, not an Egyptian official.”
“Ironic.” Satau said dryly. “Father, that’s the first connection we’ve found between Moses and anyone with any kind of authority in Egypt. They’re connected through their God. Zaphenath-paneah’s tomb is in Goshen right now, waiting to be returned to their homeland.”
(Author’s Note: Egyptians ‘revised’ history to be more flattering, at least at the Royal level. Joseph made no secret of where his ‘interpretations’ came from, but the Pharaoh of Moses day did not recognize Jehovah. Either he wouldn’t admit to it, or he was never told that a few generations earlier, a servant of Jehovah was managing his whole nation. This seemed the best way, since I’m using this story to talk about ‘revisionism’.)
Jambres frowned. “If they think there are loyalists to a long-dead Prime Minister in Egypt… or for that matter, among the slaves…”
“There’s no ‘they’.” Satau argued. “Khnem can’t find anyone among the Court who knows the name Jehovah. Half the slaves are ready to kill Moses because of the crackdown, and the only other person we can find who might support Moses before Pharaoh is long dead.”
“Mm.” Jambres apparently agreed. “Takarut, destroy that record. Any others you find that mention Jehovah by name, destroy them too.”
“It won’t be difficult.” Takarut bowed, and turned to go. “The late Pharaoh gave full credit to his own father for getting through the famine without anyone going hungry.”
The High Priest smirked as the Scribe left. “So. Your opinion, Satau?”
“The serpent trick was good. It looked like the staff transformed in plain sight of everyone. I didn’t even see the switch.” Satau commented to his father.
“Nor did I. Nor did anyone else, which is getting some attention.” Jambres agreed. “So, we’re now dealing with a magician. That changes the map a little. When it was a God nobody had ever heard of, it was easily ignored. Now we have to do something. The Court is already comparing our serpent tricks. Too many miracle workers can undermine the monopoly.”
“And also, Jannes was ready with a snake act of his own. He probably learned about Moses’ show for the Hebrew elders the same way I did.” Satau nodded. “So. What do we do?”
“We need to locate Moses and have him eliminated.” Jambres said plainly. “But the decision was made by the Priesthood that we need to be more… precise. There are guards stationed near the Palace entrance if he tries to come back in for another confrontation. If he’s being hidden in Goshen, like we think he is-”
“Then sending in a team of soldiers could provoke a response, if Moses is indeed preparing an uprising.” Satau finished. “So you need to know where he is specifically.”
“You can pass for Hebrew in a way that most of our Soldiers cannot. If you find him, do not engage on your own. If he still has supporters among the Slaves, he’ll be protected, and if he knows he’s found; he’ll be moved before our soldiers can get there.” Jambres hesitated. “I have to be honest, I don’t want to send you in for this one, son. Things are changing for the first time in quite a while. The people in this job have to know what’s going to happen at every step, and for the first time, I don’t know what’s going to happen if I send you.”
Satau smiled. “Neither do I. Exciting, isn’t it?”
His father glared at him. “Satau, if Moses is a magician, then he knows he has to keep up appearances, even in front of his own people. If he’s sincere, then he’s even more dangerous.”
“I think Moses is sincere, but so is any madman.” Satau said. “If the Slaves have a God, then He clearly doesn’t know what to do next. The only people who worship Him are slaves, and most of them are ready to lynch Moses already. No armies, no power base, no Temples, not even an Icon. How can followers of Jehovah expect His Name to mean anything to anyone?”
~/*\~Martine~/*\~
“It was Jesus’ first request in his model prayer: ‘Let your name be Sanctified’.” The Speaker said from the stage. “It was the first and most important of three petitions Jesus made in that prayer, regarding Jehovah’s Purpose. Has Jehovah answered this prayer? Many times, during history. God’s Name has been slandered at many points in the Bible Record, and in modern times. His response, both in the past, and in the future, is recorded in Ezekiel 36:23.”
Relatively new to the Meetings, Martine was still learning her way around the Bible, and tried to find it. The people sitting beside her got there faster and held their Bibles open for her to see.
“I will certainly sanctify my great name, which was profaned among the nations, which you profaned among them; and the nations will have to know that I am Jehovah,’ declares the Sovereign Lord Jehovah, ‘when I am sanctified among you before their eyes’.” The Speaker read the verse, and looked up at the audience. “The name ‘Jehovah’ literally means ‘He Causes To Become’. What other name is fitting for the Creator of everything?”
Martine had never learned that before. Years and years in her Churches, in Sunday School, she’d never heard from their pulpit that God had a name, or what its meaning was. She quickly scribbled it down.
“‘He Causes to Become’. In carrying out His purpose, Jehovah has caused Shepherds to become Leaders, boys to conquer Giants, Fishermen to become Apostles, and Inquisitors to become Evangelists. He has caused deserts to bloom, and the sun to stand still. He has caused solid walls to tumble, caused the lame to walk, the blind to see, and the dead to come back to life. And all so that His Name may be vindicated.” The Speaker put it to the audience. “With all that He has done, Jehovah’s name is still being slandered today; and worse than ever. Every day, He is being blamed for any number of tragedies. And that’s not even counting the people who say He doesn’t exist at all. Imagine an inventor who creates something incredible and complex and unique, only to have the world believe his creation just ‘came together’ on its own. None of us would stand for that. Most people don’t even know God has a Name of His own.”
Martine couldn’t help but nod at that. It had been her exact thought just a few moments before.
“Jehovah has done some remarkable things in the past so that His Name might be recognized throughout the world.” The Speaker said. “Today, a huge part of that effort is the Preaching work. There’s a mighty need to tell the world about Jehovah’s Sovereignty, and to refute some of the lies that the world has been telling about Him. Most of us are here today because someone came to us and told us the truth. What better way is there to show our gratitude for all Jehovah has done for us, than by telling others what we’ve learned?”
Martine could feel a few people glance at her. It wasn’t her first meeting, but she was new here, and from the way everyone interacted before the meeting, most of these people were friends.
~/*\~Satau~/*\~
Satau left the Shrine, and made his way through the Temple grounds, on his way to his home. The Temple was always busy with people, and most of them were glancing in his direction. Word of the confrontation with Moses and Aaron was spreading. Everyone wanted to know more, but nobody wanted to approach him and ask.
Almost nobody.
At the door, one of the Temple Priestesses caught up with him, catching his hand. “Satau?” She said, and it was the tone of her voice more than anything else that made him turn back and look at her. He knew Ashura, of course. She had spent much of her time around the Priests.
Including my family. Satau reminded himself wryly.
“The whole Temple is talking about what happened.” Ashura breathed, and her tone hadn’t changed. It was the hushed awe of a prayer, like he was something holy to her. She was still holding his hand, studying it intently. “I want to know everything. All about the moment, all about the… the power of the gods that came through these hands. Power to transform. To do magic…”
“Ashura...” Satau breathed. She was very lovely. And he’d hardly be the first Acolyte to enjoy the company of a young priestess, but she was involved with his brother, and had been for a while. “Does Khnem know you’re here?”
“He does. He wants to know too.” She looked up at him, eyes bright. “We’re all here for the same reason, right? To serve the gods? To get close to them? You’re so much closer than I am. Ptah has never performed a miracle on my account.”
“Not one that you’ve ever noticed, anyway.” She was standing close enough that he could smell her perfumed skin. “I… would normally love to spend an evening telling you and my brother every detail, but my father has me on assignment.”
She looked up at his face immediately, eager to be of service. “I can help!”
“Not this time.” He picked his hand free of hers. “You’d stand out anywhere, Ashura; but where I’m going, I can’t stand out. Not tonight.”
“But later? After?” Ashura insisted. “It must be… wonderful, to be so close to the supernatural as you. Please?”
Satau nodded. “Later.”
Pleased, she let him go. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.” She said earnestly. “I’ll bring food and wine.”
~/*\~
Satau returned to the family home, to make preparations for his mission. He heard his brother speaking in the courtyard. He went out to see who Khnem was talking to.
Alone in the yard, lit by torches, his brother had a staff in his hand. He had a cloth from his bed, and was wrapping the staff with it, then unwrapping again. It disappointed him somehow. “Great Ptah, who made the world, I beseech you!” He hissed intensely. “For your honor! For your glory!”
Watching from the door, Satau said nothing as he unwrapped the staff, and his shoulders slumped. Doggedly, he wrapped it again. “Anubis! Lord of the underworld! I beg for your divine gift! With nothing but reverent awe for you, Great Lord…”
It was the first time Satau had felt anything approaching guilt for his acts as an Acolyte. His brother was a true believer in the gods. He thought the miracle was real, and thought it was his own fault that the gods hadn’t turned his staff into a snake.
Khnem saw him, and flushed, embarrassed. There was no way to pretend it was anything other than it was. Finally, Khnem spoke. “When father chose you to be his second, I was stung by it. I know I said otherwise, but… I’m the elder brother. It was… an insult. But he was right.” He gestured at the staff. “The gods don’t answer me.”
Satau didn’t know what to say. Why didn’t I feel guilty around Ashura?
“Forgive me, brother.” Khnem said sincerely. “I was so prideful, thinking that this sort of thing was like any inheritance. You were the right choice. I’m jealous, but… I understand.”
He thinks the gods have rejected him in favor of me. He thinks I have some kind of magical powers. Satau thought. Father said he’d never be able to keep the secrets. He’s right. But if he knew the truth, he’d be horrified. “Ashura came to see me.” He said softly, as though making a great confession.
Khnem winced. “She mentioned wanting to know more about what happened. I hope she didn’t come on too strong. Her zeal for the gods outweighs almost everything else sometimes.”
“You know that I would never-”
“I know. And I’m reasonably sure she wouldn’t either.” Khnem said, sounding more sure than he felt. “It’s magic, Satau. It’s real. I can’t make it happen. I don’t know what to do differently. But you do. Father taught you, and the gods have accepted you. You’ll be High Priest one day, and you’ll perform wonders like father does.” He actually had tears in his eyes. “I’m… I’m really happy for you.”
And Satau felt worse. “Thank you.”
No comments:
Post a Comment