Abi of Cyrene, Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Winding Roads

The sound of the Nile roaring in Abi’s head overpowered her thoughts about escaping the dreadful marriage. Logs accumulated in clusters as they floated along. A tree loosened from the bank and joined the flotilla of dead wood. In the rush of the black water toward a lower point, the river washed decomposing logs downstream.
Several feet from where Abi sat, a long fat log left the mass of the others and drifted toward the bank. Contrary to the usual pattern, it broke away and moved close.
The goat scooted toward the log, which exploded with a loud slapping noise. Water splashed high as the predator and victim engaged in combat. The river filled with bleating goat and snarling teeth. Gangly legs with useless hooves hung from the malicious clinched jaws. An eerie growl came from the beast.
Heart pounding, Abi scrambled up the bank away from the gaping-mouthed monster with its diabolic scowl. As she backed away, the water reddened with the fresh blood of a half-grown goat, devoured by a crocodile for breakfast.

The other goats fled. Gasping, Melech ran one way and another.
Melech didn’t grab his bow from where it was attached to his back and pull an arrow from his quiver. “Attacking the beast would have served no purpose. One more . . . beating. . . from Negasi.”
“Maybe not. Papa will say . . . the goat sacrificed itself as an offering to the crocodile god.” Along the bank, Abi darted, circling the panicked herd.
Melech, panting, chased the strays. “Don’t . . . pay attention . . . to him. Don’t . . . believe that.”
“You know I don’t. As his daughter, I cannot change anything that man says. Who cares what he thinks?”
“You’re right, but he’ll still thrash me for losing a goat.”
“If I’d paid attention, I could’ve stopped the crocodile.” Abi soothed her little friends with gentle pats.
The goats fell into their routine and started down the path, Abi following, basket in hand and head lowered.
“Don’t blame yourself.” Melech’s shoulders fell as he caught up with her.
“I should have had my sling in my hands.” Abi chewed a cuticle. She’d failed.
“I’m the one who failed.” Melech shook his head. “I can’t deceive you, Abi. You know me too well. I lost control of myself.” He scrunched his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry.” She placed her hand on his shoulder. “No one has to know you panicked for a second. I would have, too.”
He slung a clinched fist.
“Whatever needs to be remedied we can fix. I mean it. I’ll tell Papa it was my fault, and he’ll beat me too. Maybe he won’t hit you as hard if he punishes both of us.”
“You don’t need to.”
“It’s all right. We can handle it.”
“That’s just it, Abi. You’re going away any day now. Even if you weren’t leaving, I mustn’t expect you to do my work.”
“I don’t do your work. I love to help. That’s all. Right now I have greater concerns than one more beating.” She tugged at Melech’s sleeve. “I’m desperate for your help. Pray hard and fast that Papa won’t make me marry Elan. When my father gets a plan, he moves like fire from a thundery sky.”
Docile after the roundup, the goats trotted along the olive-tree-lined road toward the field of lush grass. For a fleeting moment Abi let her fears slip away. The silvery leaves surrounding her gave a lightness to her spirit. No matter how much she willed to keep the happiness of the day, the appearance of the gnarled olive tree trunks snatched her happiness. Something she couldn’t express in solid thoughts about the ancient trees transported her back into the morning’s anxiety.
As Melech hastened to the front of the herd, she fell behind. “Papa owns everything and everybody.”
Traveling in his brisk walk, Melech would have to strain to hear her talking.
“He makes all the choices.” Abi cried out. “He altered your body. Don’t you hate him?”
Turning his face back toward her, he scowled.
Now that she’d pulled sadness out of him, she continued. “Gold, his son, cattle, goats, the horses and donkeys, his wife, my sisters and me, his slaves. Did you hear me, Melech? I listed all that in the order of importance to Papa.”
Melech, not responding, walked on.
“Property, nothing but property.” Flinging her arms, she shouted.
Melech stopped and turned toward her. The goats skidded to a stop. “Girl, get happy.”
“I’ll try.” She tuned up a song as though nothing were amiss.
Melech joined her, and the goats chimed in with bleats and the ringing of their bells. They paraded until they reached the stopping place in a patch of high grass.
Abi climbed up some rocks until she reached another flat green place. Having laid her basket down, she stretched her arms toward the expanse of the landscape and twirled in joyful song.
Across the countryside, some places were sacred. This was one of them. Adonai had designed its beauty ages before the day Abi connected with it.
“Time to do my work.” As the goats stuffed their bellies, she selected the plants her family could use.
At the end of the morning, she toted her basket down a path to the spot where Melech tended the goats.
“You found plenty of sweet-smelling herbs.” He leaned his head to one side and smiled.
“And greens. My basket is full. See?”
“Let’s head home.”
Papa. Dread burned within.
As they strolled homeward, she filled her chest with air and projected sounds across the green gorge. Did the goats know she sang to drown the frightening voices within her? That Melech made music to soothe his apprehension? The valley echoed their songs back to them.
Down the path a serpentine string of camels progressed through the trail’s sharp curves. Four diminutive horses pulled a cart, several more carried men. Donkeys bent their shoulders under heavy loads. “The end of the rainy season. Men coming to Meroe to see Papa.”

(Herd of Goats, 03-24-14 © Michele Alfieri/IStock)

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Abi of Cyrene. Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

The Banks of the Nile

Abi willed not to hear Papa bemoaning his plight. Sloshing through the mire, she locked steps with Melech as he led the goats along the path toward the west bank of the Nile.

Melech poked the wayward ones toward their destination. His dismal aura outweighed the freshness of the morning. Without hesitation, the goats pushed each other near the river’s edge.

Abi leapt to the top of a boulder above the riverbank. From her perch, she studied her surroundings. “What has you upset, Melech?”

“I overheard.” He scratched his smooth face.

“From the looks of you it must have been bad.” Abi leaned toward him, the basket remaining upright.

“It’s terrible. I fear for your future.”

“I heard Negasi talking to Elan about a betrothal.”

“For me?”

“You’re next in line.” Melech touched his fingers one at a time.

“Old man Elan has three wives.” Abi tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“And fourteen daughters. He needs a son who will carry on his name and inherit his wealth.”

The Nubian goats ran all different directions.

“They know you’re upset, so they’re acting unruly.”

“He beats his women.” Melech swished his staff into a puddle. “For every reason and sometimes for no reason.”

“Just like Papa.” She shrugged. “I could handle that. I’ve had experience, but I don’t intend to live that way.”

“You need better.” He bit his lips.

“Men beat their women.” How would Melech behave if he had not lost his manliness? Would he still be kind?

“I would have never beat my wife.” Melech knew what she was thinking before she could tell him.

“Elan says he’ll kill his wives if they don’t give him a son. Elan doesn’t deserve an heir.”

What purpose did a man like Elan serve in Adonai’s world? Also, how did the just God let a butcher of humanity take away Melech’s ability to father a son? Was not Melech better than a thousand others? He was more her father than Negasi was. “I’m younger than many of his daughters. I cannot marry into that madhouse. I’ll run away.”

“And place yourself in danger of being molested? Or if you survived for a time, a big cat would devour you for his evening meal.”

“No matter what, I’ll not wed that stinky man.” Sadness flickered through her. “Think what we can do.”

Melech poked his staff into the mud. “All that’s left for us is to pray.”

“You rely on prayer, and I’ll rely on you.” Time after time, Melech’s prayers had worked. This time, how would the Lord intervene in her circumstances? “A eunuch and a girl. Will Adonai hear us?”

“Be at rest, my dear child. The Lord has been good.” Melech’s voice soothed her. “Good to us.”

“I’ll try.” Abi forced her mouth into a fresh smile so tight the tension clinched her dimples, but she raised her eyebrows in a frown.

“Stop agonizing.”

“I can’t help myself. This marriage Papa is arranging for me—a bed of scorpions.”

“Don’t be afraid.” He pointed toward the sky. “Trust Adonai. When conditions slip into the impossible, sing, my child. Adonai put sweet music in your heart. Don’t hear the ugly.”

A tiny goat wandered off, and Melech poked it with his long staff.

“Silly kid.”

“I looked for Lisimba and Malaika up at the Candace’s palace yesterday, but I didn’t see them anywhere,” he said.

“I don’t know where they’ve gone this time.”

Maah. Baah. The curious faces nudged against Melech. Brown spotted, white striped, black and white, a brown stripe down a back—each little creature had unique markings. They butted heads and chased each other in circles.

Neh-uh-uh.

Mothers, heavy with milk, fed their young. Satiated little ones hopped up on the rock next to Abi. They came to her, and she rubbed their fur. The anguish burning within cooled as she sat in the middle of the playful goats. “I love you, precious smelly creatures.”

Melech keen eyes pierced Abi’s mind. “You could have followed the way of Lisimba and Malaika.”

She sparred with a kid. “I could have had big adventures, could have stood in a place of honor in the army of the Candace.”

“And gone away on ships and elephants so you could help defend the majestic land of Nobatia.”

The Nile, thick with Nobatian soil, flowed by with unbridled power. “You would have shriveled up in sadness if I’d left.”

“I would have survived. The truth is that you didn’t want to leave.”

“I should have gone. Now look at the danger I face.”

“You don’t know what lies ahead,” he said, yet sometimes he had visions.

“What do you see in my future?”

“Meroe, like the sun, will soon rise away from you. I dreamed it.”

“Never could I imagine an existence without my little sister and brother. Who’ll care for them?”

“Hadassah and Zebediah won’t always be children.”

“Did you dream I’d marry Elan?” She balled her hands into fists. “I won’t.”

“I didn’t say you’d marry him,” Melech said.

“I don’t know what else I’ll do, but I’ll trust Adonai, my Creator God, for a means of escape.”

“Sometimes you can’t run from the circumstances in your life. You aren’t always in control of your future. Sometimes you have to make the best of situations. ”

She looked away and dropped her chin. She couldn’t—she wasn’t strong enough.

“What matters is the way you react,” he said.

“You’ve lived a passive life. I can’t exist like you. I’m not strong enough to submit to Papa.” Abi set her face in a hard expression. “I’ll escape. Go and take you and the young ones with me.”

 “Keep calm, child.”

Silent moments passed while Melech folded his hands prayerfully.

“If an opportunity presents itself, leave. Don’t worry about us.”

“No matter where life takes me, I’ll always long to have you with me.” She placed her basket beside her and pulled out a handful of succulent dates. They smelled rich, but her appetite departed from her. “Want some dates?”

“Sure.”

He came over to the rock where she sat, and she filled his hand.

“Bread?” Abi held up the crusty day-old loaf.

He took a chunk and held his hands full of food toward heaven. “Bless this abundant sustenance, my Lord.”

She pinched a crust, placed it back in the basket, sipped water from the goatskin.

“If Negasi will wait, the Lord Almighty will send you a suitable husband in his own time, but your papa is in a hurry.”

“I want nothing but to stay here.” She leaned back against the rock. The sweet and the savage of the treetops brought comfort from the dread of her father’s heavy hand. How could colors anywhere else on earth compare to the lush leaves flickering in the light breeze? Intertwined vines drooped with new grapes. When she was a tiny child, her mother told her heaven held more beauty than earth. Could it be possible?

Melech nibbled the breakfast she’d provided.

Hungry cats, savage river creatures, and lurking reptiles evoked little fear. Reasonable caution came from her two sources—co-existence with the natural world and years of military training. The most ominous beast of all was her father, a man who would marry her off to the devil if he could gain a shekel.

The little goats—she wanted to stay with them forever. Their comical expressions, floppy ears, feigned independence, and their infinite variety of markings promised amusement.

“The goats have drunk their fill.” Melech, as always, kept his eyes on each kid. Even though the goats’ nimble legs kept them from slipping down the steep bank, herding them away from the water’s edge required caution. 

Abi removed her long filmy scarf woven of indigo silk and returned the basket to its place on her head.

“You’re wearing that today?”

“Why not? I take good care of my things.” She let it drift over her fingers. “Papa has plenty of these.”

“If Negasi catches you—”

“Lisimba gave it to me.” Abi held the end of it up, the sun’s rays shining through it. “It came from the Han Empire in the great Far East.”

“You have your father’s stubborn nature.”

She pushed her bottom lip out. “I have a plan to escape.”

“Tell me.”

“I’ll tell no one, not even you.”

“That’s fine.”

“All right, then.” She couldn’t keep anything from Melech. “I’ll sneak over to the Candace’s mansion and hide.”

“The river is like you—always unpredictable, always changing.” Something about the eunuch Melech mystified her. “The time will come when you will settle into a calm existence.”

Enough. Time to work out her plan. “I know a place I can stay where nobody will find me.”

“In a storage room?”

“How did you guess?”

“I see inside you.”

She lowered her smiling face. At night she’d come out and find food in the royal kitchen . . . hide drinking water . . . live forever stowed away in the store rooms.

“Last winter Meroe had almost no rain. The river became a tiny stream slicing deep into the rocky earth. Remember how we used the rainwater saved in cisterns for our needs and for the livestock.”

“Then came the rain.”

“Water flooding from upstream raised its level to the edges of the banks. The overflow almost spilled over the banks, but it fizzled at the last minute. The green earth became pleasant once more.”

“And I’m like that?”

“Because you are a young woman. For the moment, the river is in a state of balance with the land. One day you will find your balance.”

###

“Did you hear about Abi, daughter of Negasi?”

“A crocodile swallowed her.” The gossip would spread throughout Meroe.

“She had a habit of sitting too close to the water’s edge.”

(NOTE: Nubian doe  07-11-12 © JimnEmily/IStock)

Abi of Cyrene, Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

Yesterday

Speedier than a hawk eagle launching a flight, Simon initiated the journey. Abi took the place assigned to her in the middle of the caravan. She let her body flow into the rhythm of the ride, but her mind refused the comfort of the rhythmic bumping along.

Simon had another wife . . . or four.  Such a man must have a dozen. She’d live in a harem. Some of the women would dress as exotic dancers wearing jewels and smelling like precious incense. The sister-wives would belittle her.

Although Simon had the appearance of a committed son of David, he traveled all over the world. Looking at him, she could see he had all kinds of ancestors. A man like Simon could choose any religion he wanted and still honor his ancestors, still pretend he honored God.

Only yesterday her life turned around. She had studied the odd people. Men who came to her father’s house left after a few hours. Having left with a group of foreign men—these sailors from Cyrene—strange men, surrounding her, she experienced isolation for the first time in her life.

Riding on a camel along an unknown road surrounded by an unintelligible tongue, she averted panic by transporting her reality into another realm—yesterday.

Each moment of the preceding day played before her as a dream. Once again she was back home. She imagined every detail . . . every smell.  She’d live in the world of a day ago. No, she wouldn’t give up Melech, her brother and sisters, or the goats.

Not until she could gain an understanding of why she lost all that mattered.

###

Yesterday morning:

The earthy smell of morning drifted through Abi’s window from the forest, grown lush after weeks of relentless rain. The welcomed dawn would allow Abi to flee from home for the day. She’d go where the demon that dwelled in Papa could not oppress her.

“Papa won’t see me,” she mumbled to the mice scampering about her room. “I can’t afford to fail. If I do, though, how will he damage the day?”

The leather strings obeyed her fingers and made a noise similar to that of the mice squeaking at the bottom of the window.

As she dressed for the day, she suppressed the music coming from within her heart. She had to be careful not to awaken her little brother and sister. They’d beg to go, then Papa wouldn’t allow any of them to leave the house.

Thank you, little mice, for not messing up my basket. She folded her silk scarf and placed it on top.

Through the open window of the stale house, the green mist from the Nile ushered in the nitrogenous odor of the barnyard. Above her, the clucking pigeons seemed to say, “Look. It’s a day to celebrate.”

Dew glistened everywhere. Those wide leaves were little stubs yesterday.

A mouse squeaked.

Melech would arrive soon to herd the little goats outside of the high fence. She’d sneak through the fog over to the pen and file out with them.

The sharp brown eyes of a mouse gazed at something.

Joy is spinning like a soundless whirlwind through me, little mouse.

 Could these little creatures know?

She tightened the wrappings around all that was precious inside her. She felt like dancing. Instead, she led her feet in deliberate steps.

Fearless, the mouse scampered back to his companion.

Have a nice day, little mice, playing in our room.

She carried her basket in her hand so it would go unnoticed as she escaped to the outside world.

Failure. Papa had moved quieter and earlier than Abi.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Papa growled.

Silence. The air rushed in and out of her in sharp spurts of panic. Holding her breath so he wouldn’t hear her gasping, she stiffened her shoulders and froze her expression.

“You heard me,” he said.

Dread filled her being.

“Speak up.”

“To help Melech with the goats.” Ever present was the iron strength of Papa’s cruel hands, but she’d awakened too happy to let him hurt her. Abi shifted fast avoiding his fist. If she could inch out of range without attracting more of his attention . . . .

“I should have dashed your brains from your skull the night you were born.” Rage flashed from his eyes.

“In the wilderness.” She dared mutter the end of his discourse softer than a whisper.

“Don’t mumble. Speak up, I said.” He stepped closer.

She considered running, but she couldn’t go as far as another settlement. Too many dangers loomed in the wilds for an unplanned escape. “Speak? Me?”

The muscles tensed from his neck to his right hand, which clenched in attack mode. He raised his fist.

She backed away, giggling.

“You think it’s funny? I’ll show you funny.”

Having finished chewing, he spit brown nuts toward her, and red juice drizzled over his front. Weaving, he caught himself. Curses against Adonai foamed from his mouth.

Why do you never curse your pagan gods?

“I should have fed you and your sisters to the crocodiles as an offering to the gods of the river.” His diabolic grin displayed orange teeth.

The music within her heart retuned itself while Papa fumed. She’d get through the moment without letting him break her. The rain had stopped and it was a day Papa couldn’t destroy.

Oh, to have been born a slave. Anywhere but here. Some people provided their slaves more kindness than her father gave her.

“Then the female flesh your mother bore me would have served a worthwhile purpose.” Papa continued in his full rant. “As my fourth daughter and a homely one at that, you can bring nothing but shame to the house of Negasi.”

She inched farther from him through the muddy yard.

“Not wealth, social prominence, not fame.” He shook his head and his finger. “You’ve already failed as an archer.”

“Yes sir. Your wrath is justified.” She backed away in a half bow while she nodded. Enough of this tirade. She’d shorten it by agreeing. “You’ve earned it.”

“Our Jewish God mocked me. Five daughters before giving me a son.”

“The only God,” she said under her breath. Before he had a chance to ask her what she said, she nodded again.  “You’re a great man. You deserve better.”

“A weasel of a son he is at that.” The massive emerald set in pure gold and attached to the front of his turban accentuated the green flecks in his brown eyes. 

“He should have been born before his sisters.” She gave him the words he wanted as she backed closer to the night pen. “Then he would’ve been strong like you.”

He perched on his rock again. “He isn’t the kind of boy that will make me proud.” Folding his catlike body on the rock’s flat top, he stared away from her as he narrowed his eyes. “All my children be cursed.”

(NOTE: The above picture is quoted from Nature Wildlife . The photographer's name appears in the left bottom corner.)

Abi of Cyrene, Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

The Candace’s Secret

To press the memories of the twins into her heart for all the times ahead, it was what Abi needed. Where were Lisimba and Malaika?

Simon took her with him because he didn’t have anywhere else he could leave her. She would arrive at court as an adult—a young woman who had earned special recognition, not the child who had spent time in the presence of the mighty warrior queen, Amantitere.

No matter what he thought of her, she was the cousin of Amantitere, the Candace of the city-state. Waiting in front of the palace, she lifted her head in a regal manner, but should she walk beside him or behind him?

“Come with me.” He escorted her by placing a hand at the back of her waist.

Since he was treating her with respect, she’d play along. She held her mouth in a subdued—almost solemn—expression.

Eventually he’d handle her rough, the way Negasi mistreated the stepmother—what more could Abi expect? Except for her new brother-in-law, who had not been married long and Netekamane, the Candace’s consort, who lived in his brilliant wife’s shadow, all men respected their women less than their cattle.

As the Nile would do in an earthquake, she tried to reverse the course of her thoughts.

Negativity had no part of such a glorious time. This was her moment. Nothing could dampen the joy of entering court with her distinguished man who had chosen her as his wife.

The flow of dread within her refused to change its course.  On the surface she appeared calm, but her thoughts churned like ducks’ feet under water.

Melech, oh yes, Melech was kind, hardly a man though, because he lost his manhood in the process of castration when he was a child. This brawny merchant named Simon would be brutal. Because he was who he was, he would ignore her except when he displayed the beauty Adonai bestowed upon her. He would collect women but never love one. The fact that he took her as his bride proved the point. Yet, one fact didn’t fit into the reference frame—he gave her aurei of value.

When people looked her way, she smiled to belie the sadness of leaving her beloved family and best friend, also to cover her smallness inside.

She shuddered at leaving the goats, her sisters, her brother, and Melech. As she walked into the palace, her eyes shifted with hope from one face to another. Lisimba and Malaika. Where were the twins?

Word traveled fast in Meroe. Amantitere knew about the betrothal ceremony.

“I have a special parting gift for you, Abi Zuri.”

A servant brought a quiver of arrows of the finest quality. Each had a sharp steel point. Next to the arrows another servant laid a bow that reflected skill of craftsmanship.

“Ah.” Admiration sounded throughout the court.

Simon seemed fascinated. For the first time he showed genuine emotion in his face.

Abi ran her hands over the impressive gift and then approached Amantitere. “I am humbled by your generosity.” Abi lowered her head. “This bow I will keep forever.”

“Thank you, my child.” The Candace placed a hand on Abi’s head. Something was different about Amantitere’s touch—a fine tremor. Had Abi imagined it?

“I have a token gift for your highness.” Abi handed her royal cousin the little ornate box full of cinnamon.

“All attendants are dismissed.” The Candace motioned with her scepter to the courtiers. “Close the door and guard it from the other side,” she said to the two servants who remained in attendance.

So the Candace and Simon could discuss private matters, Abi stepped toward the exit. While Simon and the Candace conversed, she would inquire about her missing sisters.

“Stay, Abi.” In response to the royal command, Abi returned to her spot beside Simon.

“Sit here.”

Simon and Abi obeyed.

Amantitere pulled a coin from a little bag hanging from her shoulder. “Did you bring any of this from Cyrene?”

“Yes, I brought coins.”

“Not those.” Amantitere handed the coin to Simon. “The plant shown on this Cyrenaican coin. I know it is a tasty food and that your people use it for seasoning. You use the flowers for perfume. I believe it is called sylphium?” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you have this plant in your possession?”

Simon placed his finger on his chin. “Does the Candace not know sylphium is rare? Too many people have exported it from our land. Little of it remains. I no longer trade it.” He shook his head.

“But I need it for medicine.”

Leaning toward the Candace, Simon sat in silence.

In a low, measured tone, the queen said, “I suffer from seizures.”

Netekamane nodded in agreement. “Many times she has fallen down and flailed about. Her soul leaves her body. Before it happens, she gets a wild look in one eye. I see her start to jerk, and I run everybody out of the room. So far, I have covered for her. Our subjects don’t know.”

Simon gazed at the couple while Abi covered her surprise. Her leader, a woman who appeared perfect in all respects, concealed a weakness. A look of kindheartedness clouded her betrothed’s face when he replied, “I see.”

“Surely a wise man such as you, Simon, would not travel a great distance from Cyrene without bringing sylphium.”

“I carry some for my men when they travel. It stores well, and it keeps us healthy.” He walked toward the door. “Wait here.”

More of the morning passed while Abi waited in pleasant silence with the royal couple. She wanted to ask about her sisters.  

Simon returned with a heavy bag of sylphium grain and a bundle of roots. “Eat one serving each day from porridge cooked fresh. When the supply is gone, use the roots instead. Chew a sliver every morning. Keep it in your mouth a long time. Always follow it with a large drink of water. Too much of the root taken at once is a poison. Instead of chewing it, you may soak the root and make a hot tea. Sweeten it with honey. Whatever you do, take only a small amount each day.”

With trembling hands, the Candace wiped away tears before she grabbed the sylphium roots, which she wrapped in her scarf. Weeping, she laid her hand on Simon’s arm. Then she reached into her little bag. “Take this as a memento of your generosity. May you always remember how grateful I am.” 

Simon raised his palm toward her. “It is a gift. Nothing is required in return.”

“You must.” She placed an enormous yellow diamond in his left palm and pressed his hand between both of hers.

Abi lost her last chance to inquire about her sisters. Such a question would have sounded like a tinkling cymbal against the explosion of information regarding the health of her leader.

(NOTE: The picture of the coin with a picture of sylphium on  the back of it came from an article in Wikipedia: Sylphium . Image is in public domain.)

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Abi of Cyrene, Fourth Post. Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

The Betrothal

Simon stood underneath the canopy. It was a sacred moment.

With her stepmother on her right and Hadassah on her left, Abi glided into the yard. According to tradition the women walked around Simon seven times before going toward the chairs.

Simon had an expression Abi couldn’t read. Would she ever understand the man’s unspoken language?

As they stood in their ceremony, he looked down for a moment and then at Abi.

“One question.” He spoke in a slow distinct tone in Meroitic. “Do you have the courage to travel to a new land?”

Melech, her beloved friend—could she leave him? From the place where Melech stood in the yard, his eyes penetrated her soul.

The face of each sister flashed before Abi. As her eyes locked with those of her brother, all that was familiar raced through her. What her father would do if she somehow failed outweighed all her other concerns. Facing the unknown would require less courage than facing Papa Negasi.

“I do.”

“I and my men will honor you as we travel.”

Sitting across from the stranger, she waited as her father poured wine. They drank, and Abi of Meroe was betrothed to Simon of Cyrene.

When would she ever see her family again? Forbidding the tears to flow from her eyes, she shared quick hugs as the foreign traders stood nearby. Among the travelers no other women were in the company. Discomfort awaited her, and she would violate social customs.

“Enough of sad looks.” Melech served hibiscus tea to Abi, Simon, and Negasi’s family.

While the men finished their preparations, she ran inside, her sister following. “You will always be in my heart, my dear little one. If I never see you on this earth again, I will know you in Paradise.”

“Go with God.” Hadassah reached out to Abi in a final embrace.

Simon emitted impersonal commands. “You . . . uh, Abi, give your belongings to Dahnay. He’ll guard them for you and let you have them as you need.”

For the moment Abi wore all her jewelry. The one Simon called Dahnay, a eunuch, busied with his master’s commands. After she handed her few precious possessions to him, he placed them in a secure location.

“If it pleases you, sir, let me keep my weapons near my person.”

“As you wish.” Simon reached into his pouch. “Take these.”

He folded her hands around gold coins. “Tradition would have me present you some gifts of value. Here are seven aurei.”

She leaned toward him with a smile of gratitude. He bolted away.

First, she studied each aureus so she could memorize the picture on it. Then she handed them to Dahnay. “Keep these safe with my other belongings.”

She pulled the bottom of her garment from the back through her legs and secured it under her leather sash to cover her legs but allow freedom for her ride. Then she mounted a camel.

(Map: Public  Domain)

Chapter Two, Third Post of the Text of Abi of Cyrene.

(Look for chapter one in this blog.)

The Price

At dawn, Abi put on the same attire she wore the evening before, including the jewels. Dew kissed the morning, and the smell of green filled the air. Her horse waited for her near the front entrance.

As she took her position to lead the caravan, Melech, mounted on her father’s mare, rode toward her. “Negasi sent me to escort you.”

“What a relief. I hoped you’d come. Who’s taking care of the goats?”

“The others. Let’s not talk of the goats just now.” Darkness shadowed Melech’s face.

“But—”

“Little child—you will always be a young one to me—we will soon part.”

“Don’t think that, Melech.”

“It is as I dreamed.”

“That I would travel away from Meroe as the sun does.”

“Each morning the sun returns, but you may never.”

“Oh.” She scrutinized every detail of her home city.

“Your father won’t let an opportunity pass. Prepare for that. We can talk for a small moment. If you can remember one thing, you will survive.”

The stench of the approaching camels pricked her nostrils. “Tell me what it is. Quick. Speak your wisdom. The big foreigner will come over here soon, and we will not be free to talk about personal things.”

“It is love in two parts. Love the Lord with all your heart and love all others as yourself.”

“The first part I can do,” she said. “The second part will require effort.”

“I’ll try also. You’ll leave today. Remember you go with my prayers.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me.”

“Tell me what you know.”

Before Melech could answer, Simon, the big left-handed man, approached. The Meroitic guides assisted him to mount the same camel he’d ridden the day before.

Pretending not to see him, she pulled her veil over her face. No longer showing the playful nature she’d demonstrated the previous evening at the court, she behaved with the restraint instilled through generations of Jewish heritage.

Without exchange of words, Melech and Abi led the travelers to her father’s place. The home, a sprawling hut made of mud, straw, and donkey manure with a clay cote on top for pigeons, greeted her.

Wishing her father would never force her to leave, she studied every detail so she’d have a permanent picture the same way she’d studied Meroe as they left it. She and Melech guided their horses to the side so the strangers could pass. After the travelers went by, she said, “I wish I had time to draw a picture of all I see. I’d take it with me.”

“Silly girl, you can draw and paint pictures later.”

“I know, but if I could just—”

“Adonai has given you and your brother the talent of drawing and painting. What more could you want?”

“Exact memories.” Memories of happy days when Zebediah helped her stain the exterior walls brown with nut dye brought a smile to her face. They drew and painted pictures of simple orange flowers on the walls, and she had applied the orange color around the edges of the doors.

“Dismount and I’ll put up the horses.” Melech stood waiting. The camels delivered the men to the spot where her father stood.

Full of regret, Abi crept along. Inside the house, she stationed herself by the open window and whispered, “Hadassah, I’m hungry, but I must hear what they say. Slip me some food, please.”

“Sure.” Despite the stepmother’s glare, Hadassah brought Abi a crust of bread and a bite of cheese.

The big foreigner opened the dialogue of trade. “I am Simon of Cyrene.”

“I am Negasi. Delighted to begin transactions with you.”

Simon and Negasi walked away from the others. Abi could hear fragments of their conversation. They talked about the exchange of merchandise and coins. After striking several deals, they talked about her. She was nothing more than a piece of property.

“The girl with the goats,” the stranger said. “Last evening I heard her play her flute and sing. She danced for the Candace.” The stranger and her father clarified their conversation by speaking Aramaic. Abi, who knew a little Aramaic, understood some of what they said.

“For a prostitute?” Papa asked in Meroitic. “You could keep her for yourself and your men or make a fine profit with her.”

“Never.” Simon also spoke in Meroitic.

Anguish spread through her belly. Papa haggled to get the best price for her. If he could sell her, he wouldn’t have to furnish a dowry, as she’d suspected.

“A concubine?”

“No.”

“She is a strong and skillful girl. Perhaps you need a servant.”

“Will greed make my father forget his dignity? Has he no regard for my soul?” She hissed to Zebediah, who stood by her and held her hand.

“You speak of her as though she is a slave you have purchased.” Simon tilted his head toward her father. “Is she not your daughter of your own seed?”

“Yes, she is my daughter.” Her father dropped his chin.

“Is she circumcised?” Simon asked.

“We are loyal to the laws of Yahweh. We circumcise our males as a sign of the Covenant, but we do not practice female genital mutilation, as do the tribes in neighboring territories. We believe that the bodies of our women belong to our God.”

Why did Papa carry on so? Was he trying to impress Simon with his Jewishness?

“Answer me direct. Is this maiden circumcised?”

“No.”

“I take it that you have brought her up in the suitable traditions of the faith.”

“Certainly.” Papa jutted out his chin as he folded his arms.

“But you would sell her for a prostitute?” Simon frowned.

“The gold you wear is only for your adornment when he puts you on display. He’ll remove it when he finishes the trade,” Hadassah, standing on the other side of Abi, said.

Sad they understood so much about the evil of their father but relieved they were wise enough not to fall under his influence, Abi placed an arm around each and pulled them close to her.

“You misunderstood me. I would never do such a thing. I was merely trying to establish your motives.” Her father Negasi clapped his hand twice and yelled, “Abi, come out.”

Hadassah reached and kissed Abi’s cheek.  “I love you.”

“I love you, little one. Be careful.” Abi covered herself with her silk scarf.

“You too.” Tears rolled down Hadassah’s face.

“Don’t let Papa hurt you,” Abi whispered to her brother. “I love you, little man.”

As Abi walked toward the handsome stranger, he avoided looking at her. He spoke in a low voice. “I seek a bride.”

“I have just married her older sister in a good match. I spent much of my wealth. Little remains for a dowry.”

The skin on her face heated at the sound of Papa’s lies. A picture of the horded gold spilling over the top of the hole underneath his bed zoomed through her mind.

Papa flashed his teeth in a hard frozen smile.

Presenting her best appearance, she masked her fear.

The old man unwrapped her veil so he could display her as a piece of merchandise to the stranger.

Thanks to Adonai, the others didn’t look at her. She stared at the ground.

“This young woman?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

Her father motioned toward her body and lifted her skirt. “She is lovely. A virgin.”

The young man raised his palm toward her father and turned away. “No. Enough.”

Papa stopped.

She rearranged her scarf and walked back toward the house.

“Wait. Don’t move,” Papa Negasi told her.

She stopped a few feet away as they finished their negotiations.

Papa rested a pensive hand on his chin. With drama, he paused. “She is dear to me.”

Simon, with the shrewdness of a seasoned trader, allowed silence to pass as they drifted away from her.

Negasi deliberated. “If I should part with her—”

“Since she is dear to you, you will pay me a suitable dowry.” Simon’s tone was harsh.

Abi’s heart twisted with anxiety, while her face remained unchanged.

Simon and Papa Negasi walked until Abi could no longer hear their words. They wrangled several minutes. The old man waved his arms and flashed his eyes, but the young man kept his arms folded across his chest and his jaw set hard. Her father returned to her and reached for a bracelet on her arm.

“No.” With a firm grip, Simon restrained Negasi’s hand.

“I was straightening the bracelet on her arm.” Did the look he gave Simon reflect new respect?

Simon ignored Negasi’s explanation but continued the essential negotiations. “We have no time for a full ceremony, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“The Nile may determine that,” Papa said.

“I must hurry north before the water recedes.”

“I understand,” Negasi said. “Enough of this. Show me more of your merchandise.”

Simon gave an order. “While we attend to our business, have the maiden and her family prepare for the betrothal.”

“But of course,” Negasi said. “We’ll serve you wine out here.”

Abi was an entrée being served on a plate to the strange man.

Helping prepare for the ritual, Melech put up four tent poles and draped a cotton canopy over them. He brought a table with two stools from inside the house. The stepmother placed two cups beside a skin of wine on the table.

Abi concealed all she felt—relief mixed with dread, sorrow upon being scooped away from her family. Numb, she walked inside. Since she would soon leave, she sealed within her being pictures of every room.

She dressed in her other white flowing garment, a shift woven of wild cotton and embellished with a multi-colored border. Around her waist, she tied a belt of calf’s leather. A tasseled prayer shawl made of goat’s hair covered her neck and shoulders.

The stepmother placed a delicate ivory necklace on Abi’s neck.

“Thank you, Mother.” Although the weight of the gold jewels caused her to ache, she accepted the gift with grace.

Hadassah and the stepmother stuffed Abi’s clothing into a leather bag. Zebediah placed her bow and quiver of arrows nearby, each arrow tipped with a razor sharp bronze point. He also added an extra string, her sling, and some smooth pebbles. “You want your flute, don’t you?”

She grabbed him in a tight hug, tousled his hair, and kissed his face. “Yes. Thanks. Also get me my arrows with strings tied to them.”

The family added hair pomade, shea butter, cheese, three small loaves of bread, and a cleansing bar made of goats’ milk and tree ashes.

Hadassah filled Abi’s water skin. “Do you want the little bag of face paint?”

“I suppose so.”

Abi opened the leather bag and loaded a treasure near the top—a small dainty box of carved ebony with cinnamon inside.

Melech brought out gold; other servants carried leopard skins, rugs of goats’ hair, and luxurious blankets.

The men exchanged merchandise, this time as gifts. When Simon of Cyrene bestowed treasures upon Negasi, the old man couldn’t hide the pleasure showing on his face.

“Get out here.” Negasi barked in the general direction of his house.

The pile of stuff her father had stacked had been replaced by another heap of trade goods. The men loaded the beasts and the cart.

A camel waited for Abi. 

(Funny Camel: 08-16-10 © kostab/IStock)