Abram stood on the crest of the sandy hilltop. Far off in the distance, he could see the thin blue strip that he knew signaled their approach to the Nile River. The Nile, and then Egypt. After months of wearying travel, they were finally nearing their destination; or at least, for someone like Abram, the next stage in his journey.
He looked around him. The plain was crowded with the animals, tents, bedrolls, campfires and smoke of countless caravans, families and groups of dusty and bedraggled travelers. Although it was early morning, already children were at play, scampering among the tents, kicking up more of the dirt that had become as a second skin to the weary group. Every day it seemed, some new contingency arrived, dirty and exhausted, with fresh stories of cities and towns ravaged by plague and famine, and the inevitable packs of brigands, thieves and marauders that would descend upon these hapless places, seeking to take advantage of the weakness of their inhabitants. Those who could, packed up what remained of their homes and set out for greener pastures.
Egypt was the greenest pasture in the region. The fresh water of the Nile still irrigated Egypt's crops, and spared its population the dry aridity that now pervaded what was once the Fertile Crescent. And this was why thousands now converged on Egypt, with no plan other than to be as close as possible to water, the moisture of life and source of sustenance.
Many, Abram knew, would be turned away at the border. Egypt had little need for an overpopulation of dusty immigrants, and would be very particular with respect to whom it would grant entry. Abram had no doubt that G-d would protect him and his household, but he felt for poor souls who will have traveled so far, only to have their last vestiges of hope torn from them.
Abram sighed, and turned from the view of distant Egypt.
"We should be there the day after tomorrow, if we experience no further delays," Abram addressed his bondsman, Eliezer, who was testing the tautness of the ropes that secured the entirety of Abram's worldly possessions to his two camels.
"We're ready to break camp as soon as you give the word, Abram." Eliezer squinted in the rising sun.
Eliezer busied himself with rechecking the ties on the bundles. In more prosperous times, there had been many more bundles and many more camels. Now they were down to just these two, which were sufficient to carry all of Abram's belongings, but no more. It pained Eliezer that Abram and Sarai were forced to endure such conditions, and particularly that they were compelled to travel on foot, but there simply wasn't enough coin to purchase additional beasts of burden.
It was one thing for Abram, Lot and Eliezer. They were men, accustomed and well-suited to the rigors of long treks over desert dunes. Sarai, however, was a lady, and a beautiful one at that. Eliezer shook his head that such a lovely creature would be forced into such conditions. Yet Sarai embraced her circumstances with nary a complaint, nor even the slightest hint of dissatisfaction. She walked as far and for as long as the men, and then still took the energy to ensure that the servants- and, of course, the servants' children - were faring just as well. As a result, she commanded the love, respect and loyalty of all of Abram's household. It also helped that her beauty was extraordinary to behold, and many a man found himself seeking to serve her in some way simply to be in her presence to gaze upon her features, to watch the way she moved. There was nothing that any one of Abram's house would not do for Sarai if she but hinted her desire of it. Unfortunately, the one thing that Sarai truly desired was the one thing that nobody, not even Abram, could give her: a child.
Several yards away Eliezer he saw Sarai rejoin Abram, and he watched them as they conferred quietly with each other. He saw Sarai shake her head vigorously, and then assume the stubborn posture that he knew so well - her hands resting on her lovely hips, which she thrust to one side, her head cocked to the other. He saw Abram shake his head gently and look heavenward, and he knew that their conversation was concluded. Then Abram approached him.
"We're ready. I'd like to get an early start."
"Did you discuss the change of route with Sarai?" Eliezer asked, knowingly.
"I did." Abram smiled wryly.
"And?"
"She won't hear of it, of course." It was Abram's turn to sigh, although his sigh was tinged with humor. "You should have seen the flash in her eyes when I suggested that we take the longer route to avoid crossing the river." Abram did his best to mimic Sarai's indignant tone. "'That shallow thing? Shall we prolong our party's journey for the sake of keeping dry the hem of my robe?'"
Eliezer smiled. Abram had captured Sarai's tone and mannerisms well.
"And your instructions?"
Abram gave a hearty laugh. "My instructions? Have you ever known my instructions to be anything other than my wife's wishes?"
"To the river then," Eliezer grinned, and Abram grinned back. Sarai got what she wanted.
The tributary that they had to cross turned out to be more stream than river, although Sarai was gracious enough not to look
too
triumphant when they got there. Abram found a spot that looked to be the most shallow, and he crossed first with one of the camels to test the depth of the water and to ensure that riverbed was truly solid, and not merely a deceptive layer of silt. The water rose half-way up his thigh, and he emerged onto the opposite bank with his wet robes clinging to his legs. With a sigh, he signaled to Sarai to join him.
Abram watched Sarai gather the hem of her robe into her hands, and slowly step into the cold water. She paused, adjusting to the water, then, turned, as if responding to a sound of encouragement from someone behind her. Abram saw Eliezer answering some question that Sarai had posed, and he watched as other families and travelers arrived at the riverbank, beginning to form a line to cross at Abram's spot.
Sarai turned back towards the river, and, catching Abram's gaze, flashed him a smile. She waded further into the water, with each step lifting her robes higher and higher. It was a dance among two partners, the rising water closely following her ascending hem, always leaving only a tantalizing few inches of exposed flesh in between them.
Tantalizing
. Abram recognized the sensation that Sarai's crossing evoked before the word came to him. She was tantalizing, as she teased her hems up, over her knees, exposing the bottom of her shapely thighs. Inch by inch, the soft flesh of Sarai's bare legs came into view, as the robe climbed ever higher.
Abram suddenly realized that he was not the only one mesmerized by Sarai's progress. Eliezer stood on the other riverbank, watching her from behind as though transfixed. And there were several men from the other travelers that appeared to be unconsciously drifting from their own families as they descended to the edge of the river to watch Sarai's passage.
At the same moment, it occurred to Abram that there was no way that Sarai would be able to lift her robe high enough to keep it dry. The water, in its deepest spot, had almost reached the tops of his own thighs, and he was at least of a head taller than Sarai. On Sarai, the water would certainly reach...
