Sarah: Women of Genesis: 1 (Women of Genesis (Forge)) Read Free Page A

Sarai.
     
    “I know all about such ‘liking,’” said Qira. “You’re all set to keep him in your dreams, I know it from the way you talk!”
     
    “The servant of Asherah has only such dreams as the goddess might send.”
     
    “You aren’t bound over to Asherah’s service yet.”
     
    “I’ll help you put on the scarlet dress,” said Sarai.
     
    “You know I’m right. That’s why you change the subject.”
     
    “I know that the uncle is waiting, and Father is impatient to show you off to him.”
     
    “Ten years old, but you have a woman’s heart.”
     
    “It would do me no good to love him,” said Sarai. “You know that if one who is intended for Asherah should turn away and marry a man, the goddess will never give her children as long as she lives.”
     
    “So I’ve heard,” said Qira. “They say such things to keep temple-bound girls from wishing for a wedding. But who knows if it is true?”
     
    “I don’t intend to find out,” said Sarai.
     
    “And yet you will dream.” Qira began to hum and sing a wordless melody as she held out the voluminous skirt of the scarlet dress and turned and turned.
     
    Sarai could not help laughing. “You are such a foolish child,” she said.
     
    “The ten-year-old says this to her almost-married sister?”
     
    “ You’re a dreamer,” said Sarai. “So you think everyone dreams.”
     
    “You’re telling me you don’t? I won’t believe it.”
     
    “I’m a very practical person,” said Sarai. “I keep my hands busy with work. I keep my thoughts on what my hands are doing.”
     
    “And you speak nonsense all day long.”
     
    “Come now,” said Sarai. “Father’s waiting.”
     
    “Down to earth,” said Qira. “Practical. Handy. What a sturdy wife you’d make for a desert man.”
     
    “Don’t say any such thing in front of him,” said Sarai, suddenly angry. “Don’t you dare shame me like a little child who has no feelings!”
     
    “But you are a little child,” Qira teased. “And you just said that you had no feelings for this desert uncle.”
     
    The fury in Sarai’s face would have been frightening, if she were not so small. “If you mock me in front of him I will never forgive you!”
     
    “I do what I want,” said Qira, and she flounced on out of the room, Sarai scampering furiously at her heels.
     
    * * *
     
    Sarai knew that Qira would do it, and she also knew that getting mad at Qira would only make it worse, but it’s not like you could stop being angry; it just filled you up and you couldn’t think about anything else until you either used up the anger or something else happened to take your mind off it. And Sarai meant what she had said. It was silly of her to care what this desert man thought of her, but she did care, and even though she knew he was only teasing when he spoke of returning someday to marry her, she could not bear the idea of being made ridiculous in his eyes. For he alone of all adults had treated her, not as some sacred godbound object to be reverenced, and not as some little toy human to be petted and chuckled at and then ignored or sent away, but rather as a person worth talking to.
     
    And if he teased her a little, it was flirtatious and not condescending. He didn’t tell her what she looked like or ask her what her favorite toy or game might be. He didn’t talk about her hair or comment on how adult she sounded when she talked, as if children should talk a separate language. Instead he talked to her. And if Qira spoiled that by reducing her to a child in his eyes, then she would see what it was like to lose a sister. There would be nothing between them from then on. They would be like strangers forever. Sarai’s memory was very long.
     
    When they got to the courtyard, however, Father and Abram were not alone. A new visitor had arrived, a man in strange clothing that Sarai recognized as Egyptian—white linens, with more of his body showing than a man would usually let