Bondage

  Cover: The Giving of the Law © Friberg Fine Art, Inc. For more information visit www.fribergfineart.com.

  Cover design copyright © 2015 by Covenant Communications, Inc.

  Published by Covenant Communications, Inc.

  American Fork, Utah

  Copyright © 2015 by H.B. Moore

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any format or in any medium without the written permission of the publisher, Covenant Communications, Inc., P.O. Box 416, American Fork, UT 84003. The views expressed within this work are the sole responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect

  the position of Covenant Communications, Inc., or any other entity.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are either products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real, or are used fictitiously.

  First Printing: May 2015

  ISBN: 978-1-68047-596-8

  To Lu Ann Staheli

  Mentor & Friend

  For I brought thee up out of the land of Egypt,

  and redeemed thee out of the house of servants; and I sent

  before thee Moses, Aaron, and Miriam.

  (Micah 6:4)

  Character Names

  *Denotes Historical Figures

  *Moses

  *Miriam, Moses’s sister

  *Aaron, Moses’s brother

  Salome, Aaron’s wife

  *Jochebed, Moses’s mother

  *Amram, father of Moses

  *Ramses II, crown prince of Egypt, son of Seti I

  *Nefertari, betrothed to Ramses

  *Seti I, pharaoh of Egypt

  *Bithiah, Moses’s adoptive mother, daughter of Seti I

  *Mered, palace scribe, of the tribe of Judah

  *Caleb, son of Jephunneh, of the tribe of Judah

  Pentu, cousin to Ramses II

  Reuven, Hebrew slave

  Deborah, widow in Hebrew village

  Cena, daughter of Vizier Amon

  Katu, desert dweller

  Chapter One

  Miriam

  1281 BC

  Miriam settled in her usual spot, about two paces from the river’s edge. The River Nile was lazy today, ebbing around the reeds as the deep green water shimmered in the afternoon sun, glinting gold with each ripple. The air felt heavy, wet, and silent. If Miriam hadn’t been waiting to catch sight of her brother, she might have fallen asleep.

  A male voice sounded down the river, not far from her hiding spot, and every part of Miriam went on alert. It took a great deal of strength to stay in her concealed position behind a thick group of rushes. Soon she’d see her brother, a strong, young man who lived in the pharaoh’s palace in Mennefer. A young man who lived with all the privileges of royalty. A young man who didn’t know Miriam existed and didn’t know his older sister and brother were slaves. Who didn’t know his parents, Amram and Jochebed, mourned his loss every day.

  Miriam leaned forward, pushing her face through the reeds, trying to secure a good view.

  Moses laughed.

  She would know the sound of his laughter anywhere. She could close her eyes and pick out his voice in a crowd. And they had been in the same crowd together once—the year before during the Flame Festival, when Moses had passed by in the royal procession with his princess-mother, the woman who’d adopted Moses after she’d fetched him out of the river as an infant so many years ago.

  Miriam could never tell anyone her secret, that she’d been the one to follow the basket containing her infant brother along the River Nile, had nudged it a time or two with a large stick to keep it moving. She couldn’t tell anyone she’d watched the pharaoh’s daughter, Bithiah, find the basket as she was wading with her handmaidens at the river’s bank. And she couldn’t tell anyone how her mother had disobeyed pharaoh’s royal order to exterminate all firstborn Hebrew males.

  She could definitely never tell anyone that each moon she crept to that same river’s bank, praying to catch sight of her brother. She’d kept her secrets hidden for more than eighteen years now. If the reeds along the River Nile could speak, they’d have a lot to say.

  “Let’s race, then.” Moses’s voice carried through the gentle breeze, sending a jolt through Miriam.

  Moments later he came into view, walking with two other young men, both of whom Miriam recognized as members of the court who seemed to be close friends with her brother. They wore fine linen kilts the color of alabaster, and gold armbands set off their dark skin. Moses was the fairest-skinned among the friends, but his tan was a close enough match. Their heads were shaved after the tradition of the royals.

  Her brother was a member of the pharaoh’s family. It was hard to believe sometimes, especially when she and her family spent their days in hard labor and their nights struggling to sleep with so little food in their stomachs.

  As the men grew closer, Miriam stifled a gasp. One of them was Prince Ramses, heir to the throne of Egypt.

  Moses laughed again and pushed the shoulder of the other young man in front of him. They were daring each other in a race . . . across the river. It might be safe in the heat of the day when the crocodiles and hippopotamuses stayed well below the surface, but the sun was setting, and the river was starting to come alive. As Moses and his friends splashed into the water only a dozen paces from her, Miriam scrambled backward, trying not to make a sound or any movement that might draw their attention.

  She had just about reached the line of palms when she ran into someone. “Oh!” Miriam covered her mouth to keep quiet, turning around. She was expecting the worst—an Egyptian taskmaster or a member of the court.

  Instead, it was Caleb.

  The knot of dread loosened, but her anger quickly replaced it. “What are you doing?” she hissed at Caleb, pushing past him and hurrying toward the palms. Once she was safely away from the river, she turned to face Caleb.

  His intense gaze jarred her senses; Miriam told herself it was because he’d startled her. He was yet unmarried—one of the taller men in the village, with broad shoulders and dark curls that nearly reached his shoulders. Miriam focused on his light-brown eyes. “You followed me.”

  “I did.” His eyes searched hers as if he could decipher what she’d been up to by studying her face. “Why are you here? You know you’ll get in trouble if you’re caught this far from our village, especially before work is finished for the day.”

  It was a risk; it was always a risk. Miriam had witnessed firsthand the beatings the Hebrews were given when they disobeyed curfew or left their worksites before sundown. But she had her reasons. “You shouldn’t have followed me.” She narrowed her eyes, realizing she didn’t know Caleb all that well. He was a friend of her older brother Aaron, but he’d only lived in their village a few months. At the moment, she couldn’t remember where he’d lived before. All she knew was that he was from the tribe of Judah.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Caleb persisted. “And you shouldn’t be alone.”

  He was right, but Miriam tried to ignore the foreboding that crept in with Caleb’s words. It was foolish to travel about on her own, a defenseless female slave. Hebrew women had disappeared from her village more than once. But it was late afternoon, and everyone should have been working and not paying attention to her. “I was just about to return to the village.”

  She walked around him and set off toward the path that wound through the palms, giving her sporadic glimpses of the slow-moving river.

  “Miri, wait,” he said, easily catching up to her.

  Keeping her gaze forward, she said, “My name’s Miriam.” She didn’t know where he got the courage to shorten her name, but something about it made her more aware of him, and she needed to put a stop to it.

  He fell into step beside her. “Right. Whether or not you want to tell me why you come to this part of the river and spy on the Egyptians every week, I’m going to continue to follow you. To keep you safe.”

  She stopped dead. “Continue? You’ve followed me more than once?”

  He looked away, but not before Miriam saw the admission in his eyes. “Did Aaron put you up to this?”

  “He didn’t have to.”

  That didn’t exactly answer her question, but it did tell her that the two men were in agreement. “Maybe I’ll start coming at night, then.” She turned away, intent on putting distance between them.

  She knew Caleb followed because she could hear his footsteps, hear his occasional sigh, and when the hot wind shifted, she could smell the spice on his skin. But he stayed a few paces behind her. She refused to turn around again and instead kept her thoughts focused on the scolding she’d give Aaron when she returned to the village.

  Chapter Two

  Moses

  The murky water surrounded Moses, blocking out all sounds and sights, making him feel like he was in another world. Perhaps this was what the afterlife felt like: body suspended, weightless, protected from the eyes and voices of the living. He dove deeper, wondering how far it was to the bottom of the river. The water cooled and darkened even more, and his heart thumped as he thought of what creatures might be able to see him now.

  A foot kicked his shoulder, and Moses shot up to the surface.

  “There you are,” Ramses said, a grin on his wet face. “Thought you were eaten by a croc.”

  Moses wiped the water from his face. “They don’t come to these parts.”

  “That’s right. They’re too full from eating the Hebrews.” Ramses laughed at himself, and his cousin Pentu joined in.

&nbs
p; Moses pushed through the water, leaving the laughter behind as he moved toward the bank of reeds until he stood knee-deep in the river. The race along the river had been exhilarating, but when Ramses and Pentu started in on mocking the Hebrew slaves, a knot had formed in Moses’s stomach.

  “Where are you going, Moses?” Ramses called after him.

  “I’m starving,” Moses said, causing more laughter. It was always a good way to put some space between him and his cousins. Technically, Ram, his full name Ramses II, and heir to the throne of Egypt, was Moses’s uncle, but they referred to each other as cousins. At eighteen, Moses was the eldest of the group; Ramses was only fourteen, while Pentu was nearly eighteen as well. Ramses was already betrothed. It had been an important event the year before, and all the dignitaries in the land would attend his upcoming marriage.

  Outside the court, Ramses seemed like a regular young man—a royal young man, perhaps, but it was still hard to imagine him on the throne. Of course, there was no guarantee that Ramses would become the next pharaoh. There was plenty of palace intrigue, secrets whispered in corners, sudden illnesses, and, as always, impending threats to the throne from distant cousins.

  Yet Ramses was smart and proud. Both attributes combined to make him a favorite of the people. Even if a distant cousin tried to conquer the throne, the people of Egypt would be on Ramses II’s side.

  Moses headed toward the palace, and Ramses and Pentu teased each other as they followed him. They were constantly comparing their fighting skills, but they both knew Moses would win in any competition, so they usually left him out of their betting. Moses might not be the most eloquent orator in their law and history lessons—when it came to oration, he’d rather pluck out his toenails—but he was naturally skilled in sword fighting and wrestling.

  He glanced over his shoulder and tuned back in to Ramses and Pentu’s conversation, which was more of an argument.

  “They’re not ready to race,” Ramses was saying.

  Pentu shoved Ramses in the shoulder. “That’s what you said about your other horses.”

  Moses slowed and waited for the two to catch up. “You’re still using that excuse, Ram?”

  “What? You think your horses can beat mine?” the prince asked.

  Moses looked over at Pentu, who grinned at him. “Yes.” Moses had been training a couple of two-year-old fillies, but they were as strong and fast as the other seasoned chariot racers.

  “Let’s do it, then. Tonight after the banquet,” Ramses said.

  “In the dark?” Pentu asked.

  “In the moonlight,” Moses said, excitement building in him. It would be dangerous, but he could test out his horses without a crowd of spectators. It would be perfect.

  “What does the winner get?” Pentu asked. “Gold armbands?”

  “Something better,” Ramses said, looking over at Pentu. “If I win, you have to show us where the Hebrew girls bathe.”

  Pentu’s eyes widened. “I promised Ptah I wouldn’t tell anyone. We’ll get caught if too many of us go to watch.”

  Moses knew about Ptah and his stories. He didn’t believe half of what the man said, but if there was truth in this, he didn’t want anything to do with it.

  “So?” Ramses asked with a laugh. “What would happen if we were caught? Nothing.”

  “I don’t want any of the harem women to find out,” Pentu said, his voice sullen. “They won’t think I’m Egyptian enough for them. You know how gossip travels. My future wife might hate me before we’re even married.”

  “We’ll never tell,” Ramses said, slapping Moses’s shoulder. “Right, Moses?”

  Ramses and Pentu had already initiated visits to the harem. They’d teased Moses more than once about his reluctance to join them. So far he’d come up with hardy excuses not to go on the evenings they escaped. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in women, but the thought of entering into a temporary dalliance with a girl that might result in her becoming with child made him hesitate. His mother had no husband; he had no father, and he’d felt the shame his entire life.

  “That’s no prize,” Moses said, hoping he sounded lighthearted enough to not reflect the disappointment he felt. “The winner should get the losing horses.”

  “You only say that because you’ll probably win,” Pentu said to Moses.

  He shrugged and grinned. “Might as well be a fine prize, then.”

  “It’s a deal,” Ramses pronounced. He always seemed to have the last word.

  Pentu’s face pulled into a scowl. “You have more horses than a woman has necklaces. If I lose my horses, it could be months before I get any more.”

  “Then you’ll have more to fight for,” Moses said, and Ramses laughed. Pentu was the son of one of the pharaoh’s consorts. He wasn’t as skilled as Moses, so he never won competitions that might bring him more wealth or status.

  “Tonight, then. Midnight,” Pentu said, his face red.

  Chapter Three

  Miriam

  “I won’t marry,” Miriam said as she sat behind the small hut she shared with her parents, threading the wool strands through her loom and refusing to look at her brother Aaron. After Miriam shared a silent meal with her mother and father, Aaron had conveniently showed up—obviously to reason with his stubborn sister. Two burning lamps provided just enough light for her weaving but still concealed her face, which was probably red from embarrassment and frustration. She focused on threading the next color of wool through the loom and pulled the thread tight. When she didn’t want to talk about something, she stayed busy, so busy that she couldn’t be bothered to carry on a discussion.

  She wouldn’t give in. Not to Aaron, not to anyone. Her parents were aging, and they needed someone to care for them. It wasn’t fair to Aaron and his wife, Salome, who was with child, to always be looking after them.

  When Aaron didn’t respond, it made her even more irritated. He was like that, staying quiet until she’d more than spoken her mind, until all of her words were spent, until she was ready to listen. At this rate, she’d be finished with the rug tonight. “And making your friends spy on me isn’t going to change my mind,” she added.

  “Caleb’s not spying on you,” Aaron said, then coughed into his hand.

  “You can’t even lie about it.” Miriam peeked up at him.

  His lips twitched, but he kept a straight face. “He’s just watching out for you,” Aaron said. “And since you keep leaving the village, that requires a bit of following around.”

  “That’s called spying, Aaron.” Now she looked at him fully, pausing in her work. He looked so much like Moses, although Aaron had a full head of hair and was thin with hard labor. “I know what you are doing. You’re trying to get Caleb interested in your poor, unmarried sister—one who’s too plain to attract the men she grew up around.”

  Aaron’s expression was stoic as he watched her throw words in his face. Nothing she said ever seemed to upset him. His calmness was eerie sometimes and annoying all of the time.

  “I mean it, Aaron.” She wove in another wool thread, a bit too quickly, missing the weft pattern. She pulled it out and started over. “Don’t force Caleb, or any other man, to follow me around. The last thing I want is to be in an arranged marriage.”

  “No one has ever asked that of you,” Aaron said above her.

  She hated his composed voice. And the truth it spoke. “Not in words, but it’s expected now that no one has spoken for me. I’ve heard Mother tell Father she wished she would have used a matchmaker years ago. Now that I’m too old and stubborn, it’s too late.”

  Aaron barked out a laugh, startling Miriam. “You’re only in your twenty-fifth year, sister,” he said. “Hardly old. But I can’t disagree with the stubborn assessment.”

  “Which is why you need to stop trying to change my mind,” she said, suddenly feeling tired. She’d done her weaving work quickly today and then walked all the way to the palace to spy on Moses. Then she’d had that encounter with Caleb, and now this argument with Aaron while she madly worked at the loom. It was exhausting. Why didn’t her brother take his condemnation somewhere else?

  “Don’t you have something to do?” she asked, looking up at him coyly. “Like meet with the elders or something?”