As promised, here is the second portion of chapter one. Final installment next week!
“Shhh, little one.” Kebi called Miriam over with open arms. “It’s all right. Abba can find them—”
“No!” she shouted, pulling away. “Shifra’s husband said the king’s guards took them as the sun rose. Carried them to the villa in chariots.”
Another contraction stole Kebi’s voice, but her mind whirred with dreadful possibilities.
Creeping dread began in her arms, prickly and spreading. First, up her arms. Then her legs. The birth pain subsided, but the trembling increased. Barely maintaining composure, she spoke quietly to her daughter. “Go back to the roof, Miriam. Stay with your brother until he wakes.”
“But I—”
“Go!” She didn’t mean to shout. Her daughter looked as if she’d been slapped. “I’m sorry. I need you to go upstairs now.” Another pain gripped her, and she bowed her head, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out.
“Yes, Imma.” The sound of Miriam’s retreating sandals released Kebi’s tears, and panic came in a whisper. “Amram, what if they do not return?”
His arms, like an impenetrable shield, wrapped her in strength, and he pressed his lips against her ear. “You’ve given birth before. Remember how easy Aaron’s birth was?”
Another contraction began. She squeezed her husband’s hands, letting out a low groan. Her legs were shaking now, uncontrollably.
Amram brushed hair from her forehead, wiping away sweat with it.
Exhaling a long breath after the torturous contraction, Jochebed twisted to face her husband. “This one is different. I haven’t told you. I fear something is wrong.”
Panic shone in Amram’s eyes. “Why would you keep this from me?”
Another contraction rendered Jochebed silent, saving her from offering a less than suitable explanation. A sudden gush of water soaked the reed mat beneath them.
A look of horror on his face, he grabbed her shoulders. “Are you all right? What’s happening?” Having always been shooed out of the room, he had no idea what this meant.
She would need to subdue her fear. It would do them no good if they both panicked. She waited for the pain to ebb and framed his face with her hands. “You are going to deliver our child, ahuvi. We’ll do it together. All will be well.”
Time passed like a desert tortoise—slow but steady.
Miriam tiptoed down the stairs and to the corner of the large common room where the cookware and the dishes waited. She scooped up some of the barley porridge into two bowls for her and Aaron’s morning meal and scurried back upstairs. By the time she returned and hastily cleaned the dishes, Kebi felt the overwhelming urge to push. “Get the children out,” she said to Amram. “I don’t want them to be frightened.”
He could only nod, his eyes round as camels’ hooves. He called up to his daughter. “Miriam, I want you to get Aaron, take the water jar, and fill it at the river. Then check again to see if the midwives have returned.”
As the words were uttered, their doorway curtain stirred, and Shifra appeared—then Puah. Kebi blinked to be sure she wasn’t dreaming.
“Praise El Shaddai!” Amram nearly leapt to his feet, hurrying to relieve Puah of the birthing bricks. “You’re just in time.”
Both women’s eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. They nudged Amram out of the way but avoided Jochebed’s gaze. “Amram, take the children to my house,” Shifra said. “We’ll send word when—” Her voice broke, and she covered a sob.
Puah’s face twisted into uncontrolled grief. She tried to turn away, but Kebi grabbed her wrist, pulling her close. “Tell me what’s wrong, Puah. Why did they carry you away to the palace?”
Puah avoided Kebi’s gaze. “The king called to give us a new order.”
Kebi exchanged an anxious glance with Amram. “What kind of order?”
Shifra exhaled a deep sigh and stood, meeting Amram’s concerned stare. “King Tutankhamun is increasingly under the influence of Vizier Ay—”
“Shifra!” Puah glared at her mentor, fire and fear in her eyes. “You should guard your tongue.”
“What more can they do to us?” Shifra’s gaze took in Kebi, then Amram, and then her young friend. “Ay is a wicked, evil man, and he has convinced the king there are far too many Hebrew males, that we are a dangerous people, and will one day overthrow him. So the king has ordered us . . .” Her lips trembled, her voice broke. She looked down at her hands. They were shaking.
Kebi’s urge to push overtook her need to hear more, and she cried out. Puah hurried to set up the birthing bricks, while Shifra brought in some of the fresh straw they always carried, arranging a thick layer of the dry, tawny stalks around the bricks. “Take the children, Amram.” Puah shooed him away, leaning down to hold Jochebed’s hand. “We’ll care for your wife.”
But he stood like a stone in the doorway. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what the king ordered you to do.”
Kebi’s pain ebbed enough to plead with her friends. “What could the king possibly expect you to do to keep him safe?”
The midwives exchanged an uneasy glance, and finally, Puah eyes met Jochebed’s. “King Tut ordered us to kill all male Hebrew babies the moment they are born.”
Horror strangled Jochebed, and the urge to push silenced her reply. Her body demanded she give life to this child, and searing pain nearly split her in two. For months she’d protected this child within. How could she now deliver it to hands that might harm?
Please, El Shaddai, let this baby be a girl.