Sarai (Jill Eileen Smith) by Jill Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

inside, to find a room, and to make a trip to the river. The grime and dust are so thick I can no longer see the color of my skin.” Melah made a futile attempt to brush some of the dust from her arm.
    Sarai gave her niece a sidelong glance. “In this I will agree with you. I am glad we are stopping here to rest for a while.” She had done her best to keep her complaints from Melah, which would only fuel the woman’s critical spirit, but her own body ached from too many nights on hard ground and too many days riding on the back of an animal.
    Melah drew closer, their donkeys almost touching. “Lot and I have been talking.” She paused, and Sarai turned to meet her gaze. “I think we should stay here.” Melah motioned toward the city, where Sarai glimpsed Abram still in deep conversation with one of the men at the gate. “And I don’t mean only Lot and myself.” She pulled closer still, too close, and Sarai dug her heels into the donkey’s side to move it forward a few steps.
    “I think you should convince Abram to stay too, Sarai. Your father’s health isn’t good. The journey has aged him, and I think Abram would do well to settle here. At least for a time. You have Abram’s ear. He will listen if you insist on it.”
    Sarai glimpsed her father’s cart up ahead, where a handful of servants propped cushions and covered him with another blanket, trying to keep him comfortable.
    “You are just as discontented as the rest of us. Admit it.” Melah’s tone held uncharacteristic empathy, as though for once she really did care about someone other than herself.
    Sarai craned her neck to see behind her, where Melah’s donkey had stopped a pace back, waiting with the rest of them to move into the city. She weighed the wisdom of trusting her niece with her true thoughts. A soft sigh lifted her chest. She was discontented, but her reasons were far more than the discomforts of the journey. She looked forward again, and Melah edged in beside her.
    “God has called Abram to follow Him to Canaan, not Harran. Discontented or not, I have promised to do the same.” The direction they were to go had come to Abram after they set out, and she had no reason to doubt him. The caravan finally moved, slowly crossing past the guards toward the gates. “But,” she said, glancing once more at her niece, “I will speak to Abram. Perhaps a short stay will not be a problem.”
    The red clay bricks grew close enough to touch now, and she saw Abram coming toward her. He caught the donkey’s bridle and pulled it to a stop. He leaned in but did not touch her.
    “I have found us rooms to rent from a caravan merchant who is rarely at home. Father can rest there, and you can take care of him as a good daughter would.” His pointed look sent a stab of fear through her. “As my sister has already done so well.”
    She swallowed, her senses grown suddenly dull, but not so faded that she did not miss his meaning. The look in his eye told her clearly what she had expected anywhere but here. Harran was a city like Ur, not a powerful kingdom whose kings held no regard for their subjects. Surely a man’s wife was safe in his keeping here, despite her beauty.
    Abram fell into step at her side, his hand slowly guiding the donkey. “A city whose god was conceived through the ruin of his mother breeds a people of suspect morality, dear one. I cannot risk it.”
    “Everyone knows Nannar was born of Enlil’s love for Ninlil. We have heard these stories since our youth. We had no fear of such things in Ur. Harran is Ur’s sister city. Why should it be any different?”
    “Everyone in Ur believes that tale is one of love, yes. Not so in Harran. Here, the god Enlil forced Ninlil, who in turn birthed Sin. When a man forces a woman, there is no love bond there.”
    Abram stopped the donkey again and gave Sarai a look. They had reached the gate, and he would speak no more of this with her now. Perhaps in the seclusion of the house he had secured, he