The Archer of Paran: by Josprel (standard:other, 8021 words)
Author: Josprel	Added: Jul 30 2006	Views/Reads: 2951/2308	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Jacob and Esau were twins, but a person wouldn’t suspect it by looking at them. Esau, who delighted in the hunt, was their father Isaac's favorite. Jacob, who enjoyed domestic living, was favored by Rebecca, their mother. It led to a volatile conflict.

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“I am called Aseneth, daughter of Potipherah.” The girl spoke without
fear. 

“Her father, Potipherah, was a soldier in the armies of Egypt. He was
killed in battle and her mother sold her in the slave market.  I bought 
her as your wife.” 

Ishmael seemed dubious. “She is beautiful and unafraid, but can she
endure the wilderness? She appears so delicate.” 

“Your mother has said that I am your wife, but I know that in truth, I
am your slave. Though I did not choose to be here, I shall survive this 
place,” Aseneth haughtily replied. 

“Have a care how you speak to your husband, girl.” Hagar made as if to
slap Aseneth, but Ishmael prevented it. 

“You shall not attempt to escape from us?” 

“Where can I go?  There is no place for me in Egypt. My father is dead. 
My mother sold me as a slave. There is no place for me, but here.” 

Ishmael took Aseneth's hands in his. “Then know that I, Ishmael, promise
to treat you with only tenderness and love. I shall be your protector 
and provider.” 

Aseneth's features softened into a smile and Ishmael continued, “You
shall call me your husband and I shall call you my wife. Hagar you 
shall call, “mother,” and she shall call you “daughter.”  You shall 
treat her with love and she shall treat you the same.” 

“Yes, I shall treat her so if she is a good wife to you, but if she is
not, I shall beat her with a stick!” 

“Then you shall not beat me at all, for I shall be a good wife to your
son and a true daughter to you.” 

Now it was Hagar's features that softened. Moving to Aseneth, she
embraced and kissed her. 

“Come, my daughter, it is time for us to cook a meal.” 

Chapter Three 

Hagar and Aseneth bonded into s true mother-daughter relationship. As
the decades passed, Hagar had the joy of serving as the midwife for the 
birth of her first four grandsons.  Yet, with the weight of her nomadic 
existence and the passing years pressing heavily on her, she finally 
responded to the summons of death. According to her wish, with great 
pomp and ceremony, she was buried by Ishmael in an Egyptian tomb.  
Having now given Ishmael twelve sons, Aseneth also was feeling the 
pressures of their wandering existence. 

“My husband, when I first came to you, you promised to be a good husband
to me. You have indeed loved me, as I have loved you. I have borne you 
twelve warrior sons.” 

“Yes, you have given me many sons.  They are superb horsemen and camel
riders, who are now the lords of the desert. Because of them and their 
riders, we are paid tribute by all the caravans that pass through our 
lands. When those who travel see our black tents, they know who we are. 
Even the armies of pharaoh fear us.” 

“Yes, my husband, you and our sons have made us rich beyond our dreams.
Yet, we are growing old.  I have grown tired of wandering.  Can we not 
now remain settled in one place until we die?” 

“I shall speak to our sons about that which you ask.” 

Chapter Four 

It was Nebajoth, Ishmael's firstborn, who responded to his father's
question. 

“Yes, Father, we have discussed it among ourselves. We have planned to
each build a castle here in the desert. We shall construct them at a 
distance apart from each other.  Thus, the entire desert shall be under 
our control.  No one can pass through without paying tribute to us.  
You and mother may choose in whose castle you wish to live.” 

“We first shall have our men dig until we have twelve wells of water,”
added Kedar, the next oldest, “Then we each shall build our castle near 
one well.  Once I have the water, I shall have my men gather many 
desert sheep into folds.” 

“But what will they eat? There is no grass in the desert,” his father
asked. 

“Once I have water, my castle will be like an oasis.  Then I shall dig
many wells and my will men grow food for the sheep to eat.” 

“When the angel spoke to my mother in the desert, she found a well of
water there, but that was long ago. I have not found many other wells 
since then, but I have heard that your Uncle Isaac dug wells for his 
flocks to drink.  Each time he did so, others came and drove him away 
form his well and used them for themselves.” 

“Our Uncle Isaac should have fought for what was his own,” Kedemah, the
youngest son, responded. 

“That is true, but my brother is a peaceable man. He will not fight. He
finally dug a well that remained his own.” 

“I shall kill any who seek to take the wells we dig.” 

The threat was voiced by Massa, who most resembled his father in
appearance and temperament. The others grunted their agreement. 

“Well, I suppose if one digs deep enough there will be water, but who
can dig that deep?” 

“Our men will do so, or they will die!” Massa responded. 

“If the task is impossible, you still would kill your men for not doing
it?” asked his brother, Tema. 

“My men will obey me or they will die!” 

“For not doing what no one else can do, even yourself?!” 

“I am their chief: they must do as I command!  If I command them to dig
until they find water, they must do so!” 

Noticing Massa's anger mounting, Nebajoth changed the topic. 

“Our father and mother desire to remain in one place. They are tired of
wandering in the desert!” he said to the others.  “Since I am the 
oldest, they shall dwell with me in my camp. Do we all agree?” 

He received eleven affirmative answers. 

Chapter Five 

Zephan, Supreme Commander of the Egyptian military forces, was kneeling
face to the pavement before his furious king, Pharaoh-rams. 

“Lift your eyes, worthless one!  On your knees! Look upon me!” 

Leaning forward on his dais, Pharaoh-rams fixed Zephan with a probing
glare. “Why do you not protect the caravans that pass through the 
desert? All who travel to and from Egypt suffer attacks by desert 
bandits! Our land grows poor because them!” 

The commander's features twitched in anguish; his voice quivered. “My
great pharaoh, these are not mere bandits who attack our caravans. The 
wild man, Ishmael, and his twelve sons have gathered many desert tribes 
into a mighty confederation.” 

“And what does this mean for Egypt?” 

Zephan's voice now took on its natural deepness. “Ishmael is molding the
tribes into an army, oh mighty pharaoh.  The desert chiefs of the 
Wilderness of Paran acknowledge him as their supreme chief. They now 
call themselves, “The Ishmaelite Confederacy.” They consider all who 
pass through the desert as their enemies.  It is reported that they 
look upon the desert as their home-land. Only their own may pass safely 
through the Wilderness of Paran.  No other is safe from attack. They 
kill the men and take all. If there are women with the caravans, they 
sell as slaves.” 

“Is that not your task guard the caravans?  Send troops into the desert
to kill these marauders! Eliminate their black tents!” 

“I have sent many troops, sire, but Ishmael and his bands vanquish them
all and then vanish into the desert. Even the Rephaim in the highlands 
of Bashan, fear them, as do also the Amorites and the other nations.  I 
have received reports that the twelve sons of Ishmael no longer dwell 
in black tents, as do their followers, sire. Each is building a castle 
in a strategic location to make permanent their rule over Paran.” 

Pharaoh-rams brow shot up in surprise. “Even the Rephaim, with their
great height and strength, fear the confederacy of Ishmael?!” 

“Yes, my pharaoh, they now refuse to leave their homes in the mountains,
fearing that Ishmael and his hoards will attack their families while 
they are gone.  Though they will defend their mountains, it is reported 
that they do not think they can gain victory over Ishmael's 
confederacy.” 

Pharaoh-rams pounded the arm of his throne. His eyes narrowed with
distain. “Then I swear on the heads of my ancestors that I shall 
eliminate this scourge of the desert!”  With a terrible resolve, he 
added, “I, myself, shall lead the army into battle against Ishmael and 
his sons and their confederacy.  When I capture these desert rats, I 
shall flay the skin from their bodies while they still live!” 

Chapter Six 

Though the construction of the castles was not yet completed, enough of
the work had been done to make them livable. For more than three long 
years, it seemed to the exhausted laborers that every stone, from 
pebbles to boulders had been dragged in from the desert by camels, 
horses and men.  A deep, dry mote surrounded each edifice, and dotting 
the vast areas between the motes and the castles were sheepfolds, 
stalls for camels and horses, and the black tents of The Ishmaelite 
Confederacy. Recently dug wells also occupied the space. Despite the 
motes, they were guarded by patrols armed with scimitars and spears.  
Today had dawned no differently than those previous. After the coolness 
of the night, the blistering heat of the sun dominated the desert, yet 
those within the castles still enjoyed the residual coolness of the 
walls. 

It was one of Nebajoth's outlooks who first blew the ram's horn battle
alarm and then shouted, “Battle alarm! Battle alarm! An army of riders 
approach! Battle alarm!” 

While Nebajoth and his riders armed themselves and mounted their steeds,
the battle alarm was relayed to the other castles, whose warriors also 
prepared for combat.  It did not take long before the twelve companies 
converged into a unified army under the command of their twelve 
princes, with Ishmael as their general. At his signal, the mote bridges 
were lowered.  When the army crossed they were raised again. 

Chapter Seven 

Resplendent in his combat attire, mounted on his white battle stallion,
King Pharaoh-rams waited next to Supreme Commander Zephan, also geared 
for battle. Already the desert sun was taking its toll upon their 
warriors; after succumbing to the heat, many had to be kicked to their 
feet again by their superiors. The king's tasted for battle now waning, 
he was having second thoughts. Across the sands, they could see the 
banners of The Ishmaelite Confederacy moving toward them. 

“Our men and horses are not trained to fight in the desert, Zephan.
Without our chariots and much water, we are at a disadvantage. The 
Ishmaelite Confederacy is trained for desert battles. They seem able to 
find water where no one else can.” 

“True, sire, we did not take our chariots because they would serve no
purpose here in the desert. Their wheels would sink into the sands and 
the horses would not be able to pull them over the dunes.  We have some 
water, for I commanded the army to carry water on camels.” 

“But, is it enough for all of our troops and animals in such heat as
this?” 

Zephan appeared dubious. “It will depend on how long the battle lasts,
sire.” 

There was a long pause, after which Pharaoh-rams summoned a high-ranking
officer, who approached and saluted. 

“Carry a flag of truce and ride with me and the Supreme Commander toward
the lines of the Ishmaelites.” 

Both officers gawked at their king with alarm. 

“You dogs!  Do as I have commanded. Make a flag of truce!” 

White flag lifted high, the three slowly rode toward the confederacy
lines. At the center of no man's land, they reigned in and waited.  The 
wait was a short one, for soon they saw an equivalent number of riders, 
two mounted on camels, the center rider on horseback. Attired in the 
robes of desert dwellers, upon reaching the Egyptians, they also 
reigned in. 

For a moment, both parties gazed silently at each other.  The
Ishmaelites each had their features covered by white cloths reaching 
from just below the eyes to the necklines of their robes.  The aura of 
mystery this lent them, made the king uneasy. 

“I am Pharaoh-rams, king of Egypt. This is Supreme Commander Zephan of
the Egyptian forces.” 

“We know who you are,” responded the Ishmaelite horseman, “Why have you
entered our land with your army? Do you not know that the desert 
belongs to us?  We do not enter your land, yet you invade ours!” The 
speaker's eyes were filled with dark portents. 

“Are you he who is called Ishmael?” Zephan inquired. 

“I am Ishmael, ruler of the desert tribes. He on my right hand is
Nebajoth, my oldest son, who also commands a large company of my 
warriors.  He on my left hand is my son, Adbeel, another of my sons. 
He, too, commands a large company of warriors, as do all my sons, who 
are known among the desert dweller as the twelve princes of Ishmael.  
Each rules over part of this desert land.  From their childhood, they 
have been trained as warriors as are all the men of The Ishmaelite 
Confederacy. 

“I asked you why you invade our land, but you do not respond. Why is
this?” 

“You say that I invade your land, but the desert belongs to no man. All
may travel through it. This is why we have come,” responded 
Pharaoh-rams “You capture our caravans.  You kill all the men and take 
all the good. If there are women, you sell them as slaves. Egypt grows 
poor because of you.” 

“Do not speak to me of those we sell as slaves, Pharaoh-rams. Though
Hagar, my mother, was an Egyptian, the Egyptians sold her as a slave to 
Abram, my father. In my youth he than sent us into this desert to die 
of thirst, for no wrong that we did. But I remain alive. The desert is 
now our land. We rule here! 

“Like you, the caravans and traders that pass through here think the
desert belongs to no one, but it is ours. Our castles are here, as are 
our families, and our herds and flocks.  We have much water for we have 
for dug many wells, and we will fight to the death for what is ours.  
Even the Rephaim fear us and remain in their mountains. Learn from 
them, Pharaoh-rams. Return to Egypt while you still have life in you. 

Ishmael's tone grew ominous. “You have often sent assassins to kill me,
but they have never returned to you, yet I have not sought to kill you. 
 Know that had I done so, they would not have failed, as we shall not 
fail to win this battle. You came to me under a flag of truce and you 
may depart from here without harm.  Again, I say to you, return to 
Egypt while you still have life; if you do battle with us, you shall 
surely die by my hand!” 

Despite the heat, Pharaoh-rams felt chills running playing along his
spine and a cold fist closing over his heart.  He realized it had been 
a mistake to make an attempt to move against this desert warrior. How 
could he back off and still save face? 

“Our talk has ended, Pharaoh-rams. Return to your troops. I shall wait
with my warriors until you attack us or turn toward Egypt.  Heed my 
warning: decide to return to Egypt and enter our land no more!” 

The Egyptians backed their steeds several feet, and then swung around
and returned to their troops.  They conferred among themselves, after 
which, Zephan again approached the Ishmaelites under the flag of truce. 


This time, he placed a clenched right fist over his heart in salute to
Ishmael, who did not respond. 

In a voice edged with tension, he stated, “My king has sent me to report
that we have not come to do battle against you, sire.  Our purpose is 
to request that you do not prevent the caravans from entering Egypt, 
for our people grow weak from hunger.  As one sovereign to another, he 
asks that you do him this kindness. We shall not again enter the desert 
without your permission.” 

With a patronizing smile, Ishmael responded, “Only the gods know the
future. You are free to return to your land in peace.” 

Chapter Eight 

The ram's horn battle trumpet sounded from Mibsam's castle, followed by
shouts of, “Battle alarm! Battle alarm! Strange riders approach the 
castles. Battle alarm! Battle alarm!” 

The alarm was taken up by the other castles.  With a feverish scurry of
activity, the Confederacy of Ishmaelites armed them-selves and mounted 
their steeds.  The mote bridges were lowered and they road out to meet 
the strangers.  Before the Ishmaelites could launce an attack, the 
intruders stopped their advancement and unfurled a white banner with 
which three riders moved forward to the center of no man's land and 
waited. 

“Hold!” Ishmael commanded, “They fly a flag of truce.  Nebajoth and
Tema, meet with them. Learn why they intrude into our land.” 

Advancing slowly, the two princes complied. To Ishmael's amazement, they
and the foremost stranger dismounted and embraced each other.  Nebajoth 
waved to for his father to advance and the two parties converged. Like 
him, the stranger wore a full, black beard.  The diadem of a chief 
secured his head cloth. Though his garments were stained with the dust 
of his travels, it was evident they were designed from expensive cloth. 
 And, judging from the burdens carried by the camels, the stranger 
possessed great wealth. 

Turning to Nebajoth in puzzlement, saw that his eyes were shinning with
pleasure. 

“Who is this stranger, my son?” Nebajoth was about to respond, but the
visitor spoke first. An inner pain seemed to haunt him. 

“You last saw me as a babe in my mother's arms, Ishmael.  I am Isaac,
your brother.” Ishmael stiffened in apprehension, his eyes blinking 
with incredulity.  Brow lowered in suspicion, he responded, “You say 
you are my brother, Isaac, but to me you are a stranger. Why have you 
come into my land?” 

“Abram, our father is dead and has been gathered to his people.  I ask
you to go with me to Mamre, that together we may bury him in the cave 
of Machpelah, in the field of Ephron.” 

Ishmael lowered his eyes. His sons and Isaac knew he was grieving.
Moving forward, Isaac embraced him and Ishmael did not resist. 

When he stopped sobbing, his brother released him and Ishmael said, “I
thought my heart was filled with hated for our father, because he drove 
me into the desert. Now I learn it is filled with love for him.” 

Isaac nodded. “When I came to understand what was done to you and Hagar,
I knew it was unjust.  As Abram's eldest son, the birthright should 
have gone to you.  Please do not blame our father for your exile; it 
was my mother, Sarah, who in her jealously against you, demanded 
otherwise. 

When our father departed from Ur, he hoped to find Melchizedek, the king
of Salem.  He desired to learn from him where to find the god most 
high, who does not demand the sacrifice of children. Though he did not 
find Salem, he found his God, Yahweh. 

“Our father said to me many times that Yahweh commanded him to heed the
demands of my mother, Sarah. Yahweh promised him that He would make you 
the father of many nations. It is right that you love him, Ishmael, for 
he greatly loved you.  It grieved him to send you and Hagar away.” 

Ishmael again nodded. “Come, my brother, you and your men shall be taken
to Nebajoth's castle. You shall be fed at our table and then rest.  
Tomorrow morning we shall depart to bury our father.” 

Chapter Nine 

The burial procession that wended its way through the desert was a
lengthy one.  In addition to Isaac's and Ishmael's tribes, all the 
desert chiefs who had submitted to The Ishmaelite, as well as those who 
knew Abram and Isaac were in attendance with their women mourners, 
whose duty it was to dolefully bewail the death of Abram. Eventually, 
at Mamre, the procession converged with the tribes ruled by Isaac.  At 
his command, the camels on which Isaac's mourners traveled joined with 
those of their Ishmaelite counterparts. Upon arriving at the burial 
cave, the women dismounted to assume their positions, Ishmael's women 
in a single rank on one side, Isaac's taking a similar stance on the 
other. 

As the wrapped body was carried toward them, the women moaned softly. 
The moans became progressively louder, until they reached a crescendo 
of loud, heartbreaking sobs that moved the other procession members to 
join in. 

“Abram is gone form us,” the women loudly wailed. 

“Yes, Abram is gone from us,” responded the others, including Ishmael
and Isaac, “Why have you gone from us, our father?” 

“Why have you left us, Abram; when shall we again behold your face?” the
women wailed. 

“Abram, our father is now among the gods. When shall we see him again?”
Ishmael mourned, in a hopeless tone. 

“Our father rests on the bosom of Yahweh, the unseen God,” Isaac
responded, “We shall see our father again when the promised one comes.” 


His face a study in desolation, Ishmael turned to Isaac, “Though I
cannot believe that a promised one shall come, I would that it were 
true, my brother; I would that it were true. 

“Why do you think it not true?” 

Ishmael grimaced. “Did not our father seek all through his wanderings
for the city of his God?” 

“That is so. I also was with him in those wandering. He sought for the
city because he believed it was built by our God, Yahweh.” 

“Did he ever find it?” 

“No, our father never found the city he sought.” 

“Why did he not find it?” 

Isaac did not respond. 

“Do you believe such a city exists, Isaac?” 

When Isaac kept his silence, Ishmael continued, “Our father did not find
such a city because it does not exist.  Why should the gods build 
cities on earth, my brother?  They cannot live in them. It is men who 
build cities with walls to protect themselves against those who would 
kill and steal.  Who can kill the gods, Isaac?  Who can steal from 
them; so why would they need cities?  All talk of a city whose builder 
and maker is Yahweh is a fantasy.” 

“All else that our father taught to me is true, so this must also be
true.  Our father believed such a city exists.  I also believe it.” 

Ishmael laughed contemptuously, “Believe what you will, Isaac. When you
find this city, send a messenger to me and I shall visit it with you.  
Let us depart from here. I must return to my land. Our castles are 
lightly guarded.” 

Chapter Ten 

“Please stay with us a while longer, my brother,” Ishmael coaxed as
Isaac made preparations to depart, “We have just come to know each 
other and we may never again see each other.” 

“The God of our father, Abraham, may decree otherwise, Ishmael. Perhaps
he may move you to visit with us.  Would you then visit?” 

“This God of Abraham is your God, Isaac; he is not my God. Long ago, at
your birth, He made this clear when He told Abraham to drive my mother, 
Hagar, and me into the desert. There I almost perished from thirst.  
This is the God you serve, Isaac. He is the God who cheated me from my 
rightful inheritance and bestowed it to you, at the whim of a jealous 
woman.  I understand that my subjects also worship the God of our 
father, Abraham under a different name. I permit them to do so because 
they need a god to worship.  I do not, especially one such as yours who 
hated me and Hagar, my mother, but loved, Sara, your jealous, 
hate-filled, vengeful mother.  There are no gods for me, especially the 
God of Abraham.” 

Isaac gazed intently at his brother.  Then he said, “Tell me again how
you and your mother, Hagar, were saved from death in the desert.” 

Ishmael gestured with impatience.  He appeared mildly agitated. “Do we
not have better things to discuss at your departure than a thing that 
happened so long ago?  I have told you that I no loner bear have hatred 
in me what was done to my mother and me. Why would you would you have 
me repeat them now?  These things are best left in forgetfulness, now 
that we have seen each other.” 

“For my sake, please indulge me in this that I ask, Ishmael, my brother.
I have a purpose in asking it of you,” Isaac said. 

Still somewhat angry, Ishmael complied. “After your mother forced us
into exile in this desert, we no longer had water.  My mother, Hagar, 
had saved most of the little water Abraham gave to us for me to drink, 
but it was not very much and was soon gone.  I was dying of thirst and 
could no longer walk and even stand.  After I fell to the sand, Hagar 
could not bear to see my death, so she laid me under a bush, moved away 
a little distance from me.  She began weeping.  She afterward told me 
that an angel of God spoke to her . . . ” 

When Isaac lifted a hand to indicate that he wanted to speak, Ishmael
ceased speaking and gestured for him to do so. 

“Whose God sent the angel to your mother and you, my brother?” he
inquired, “Was it the God of our father Abraham, or one of the gods 
whom even you say do not exist?” Ishmael stared, dumfounded.  He 
understood now why his brother asked for him to tell the story of his 
and Hagar's deliverance from death. 

“I await your answer, Ishmael. Whose God sent the angel who deliver you
from death?” 

Ishmael's composure returned, and he began to laugh uproariously and the
others joined in.  “So, Isaac,” he acknowledged, “You have ensnared me 
with my own words. We all know it was the God of Abraham who sent the 
angel.  It was he who saved me and my mother from death.” 

“And did this angel sent by the God of our father, Abraham, say anything
else?” Isaac asked. 

Ishmael again went silent, before answering.  This time his silence was
a long one, but no one dared breech it, not even Isaac. When he finally 
did speak, his features were thoughtful, and his tone held a 
seriousness quality hitherto not manifested during his account. 

“Yes, my brother, the angel told my mother he would make me into a great
nation.” 

“And has that not already begun?  The God of our father Abraham has
blessed you with twelve brave sons.  Each is a mighty warrior; so 
mighty that the armies of Egypt fear them. Each rules from a castle 
that belongs to him alone. Together, they rule the desert tribes.  Even 
my people have heard of The Ishmaelite Confederacy.  Some speak of it 
with fear, knowing how you were exiled by our father.” 

“They need not fear me or my sons. I would never attack you and your
people. Neither I nor my sons would ever commit fratricide and do as 
Cain did to his brother, Able, ” Ishmael categorically responded. 

“I know this, for I now know you and your sons, my brother. But, my
people have yet to meet you. For this reason I entreat you to visit 
with us, that my people may see that we love each other as a family 
should love.  Again, I entreat you to visit my people with your sons 
and their families,” Isaac pleaded. 

Ishmael surveyed the faces surrounding him.  One by one, as his eyes
took inventory of his sons, each son nodded assent. 

“Yes, I have now decided; we shall go with you, to visit your family,
Isaac,” he stated, “But before we leave, I must make preparations for 
the protection of my people. My sons and I must give orders to our 
warriors who remain behind.  Then we shall depart with you.” 

Chapter Elevan 

Isaac's sons, Jacob and Esau, were twins, but a person wouldn't suspect
it by looking at them.  From his puberty, Esau was hairy and rugged. 
The tribal history chroniclers alleged that Esau's name was derived 
from the word “Seir,” claiming that the word meant “hairy.” Tribal 
seers and prognosticators predicted that Seir was a territory Esau 
would one day claim as his own. 

An outdoorsman, camp life bored Esau.  Instead he delighted in the chase
of the hunt, often returning to the encampment with an antelope, a wild 
goat, or a bighorn mountain sheep he had slain slung over his broad, 
hairy shoulders.   On his return with game from a successful hunt, Esau 
always simmered a stew from the meat of his kill, sharing it with his 
father.  Isaac relished these stews; he looked forward to them.  It was 
well known among Isaac's tribes that Esau was his favorite son. 

Jacob, who was born a second or so after Esau, entered life clutching
onto his brother's heel. Tribal chroniclers were at odds regarding the 
meaning of his name. Some claimed it meant, “heel-catcher,” while 
others asserted that the name meant, “supplanter.” 

Unlike Esau, Jacob was a man-about-camp, a homebody who enjoyed the
activities associated with domestic life, especially that of cooking.  
Perhaps it was for this reason that he became the son favored by his 
mother, Rebecca. The favoritism displayed by both parents engendered a 
scorn for each other within the twins. Jacob considered Esau an 
ignorant lout, often implying that his twin's shagginess indicated that 
he should live among the wild animals.  He also vilified Esau as an oaf 
who brought disgrace to the family. 

Esau, on the other hand, heaped insults on Jacob. Now into his
adolescence, Esau was enormously popular among the tribesmen.  He once 
laughingly stated to his numerous camp cronies, “My brother, Jacob, is 
still our mother's infant. He continues to suckle at her breasts.  I 
believe he shall do so even when he attains his manhood – if one can 
call that which he attains a manhood.” 

Another time, after they had a scuffle in which Rebecca, as always,
intervened on the side of Jacob, Esau referred to his twin as a 
“cowardly camp puppy that fears to defend itself when other puppies 
steal a bone it is chewing on.  Like a cowardly puppy, he whimpers and 
whines until his mother comes to defend him.” 

Rebecca slapped Esau hard across his cheek for making the statement. He
only chuckled and said, “Jacob, my brother, our mother has courageously 
defended you. Now follow after her like an obedient camp dog.” 

Chapter Twelve 

Esau had just returned from a hunt with an antelope and a large mountain
sheep slung across the back of a packhorse he lead behind his own 
stallion. Dismounting, he thoughtfully unloaded his kills some distance 
from the cooking fires. He did not want to disturb those who attended 
the fires, where Jacob assisted Rebecca in supervised the camp cooks; 
they were readying bread dough for baking on the flat hot stones placed 
over the cooking fires. Having been notified by an advance rider of the 
soon arrival of Isaac and his brother Ishmael, the entire camp was in a 
state of anxious anticipation. 

“Jacob, come, help me skin these animals,” Esau called out, “If we cut
them up quickly, there shall be meat for our father and those who come 
with him. Come help me.” 

“Can you not see that my son, Jacob, is too busy that which you ask of
him,” Rebecca sharply remonstrated, “Unlike you who, in your laziness, 
do nothing but ride horses and chase after animals, Jacob works hard 
here at the fire.” 

Before Esau could respond, the blast of a ram's horn sounded, and a camp
sentry shouted, “The caravan approaches; the caravan approaches!  The 
caravan of our Supreme Chief is still distant, but it is drawing 
closer!  The caravan of our supreme chief approaches!” 

Hearing the urgent summons, each of Isaac's chieftains mounted their
camels to ride out and meet the caravan.  Esau dropped what he was 
doing, jumped on his horse and raced after them. As his speedily passed 
the camels, it left a cloud of dusty sand that forced the chieftains to 
cover their faces.  Speeding on, his mount taking tortured breaths in 
the blistering heat, Esau soon arrived at the his destination, reigning 
up next to his father. 

“I am happy to see you, my father.  I greet you in the name of the God
of Abraham,” he said. 

“And I greet you in the name of my father's God, my son.” Isaac stared
intently at his son. “But why are you thus attired? Your garments are 
stained with blood.  Have you suffered injury?” 

“I have no injury, my father.  I have just returned from a hunt. I was
beginning to skin the animals I slew, when the report of your coming 
sounded.  I left all to ride out to greet you. Please forgive my soiled 
garments.  I thought only of meeting you.” 

“I understand, my son,” Isaac assured him, motioning to Ishmael.  “This
is my brother, your Uncle Ishmael.” 

Esau bowed his head in a gesture of humility. “I greet you in the name
of the God of Abraham, my uncle,” Esau said in a tone of meekness, 
“Please forgive the rudeness for having greeted you in garments such as 
these. I mean no disrespect.” 

“I thank you for your welcome, Esau, my nephew.  I take no offence at
your appearance, for I understand the hunt.  I also am a hunter.” 

Isaac summoned one of his outriders. “Halt the caravan,” he ordered, “I
would have my son meet his cousins before my chieftains arrive.” 

Chapter Thirteen 

For the first few days of Ishmael's stay, all appeared to go well.  He
and Esau went hunting together and the nephew marveled at his uncle's 
prowess with the bow.  Nonetheless, it wasn't long until the visit was 
shattered by a complaint made by Ishmael to Isaac. 

With a stony expression and spasms of anger flexing his brow, his dark
eyes flashing with deep indignation, and his voice ominous with threat, 
Ishmael stated, “Isaac, my brother, your son, Jacob, has grievously 
slandered me and my sons; so much so that, though he has not yet 
reached his full maturity, if he were not your son, I would have slain 
him where he stood! ” 

Isaac gawked in disbelief. When he recovered, he asked, “Ishmael, how
has Jacob done such injury to you and your sons? What did my son say, 
that so grievously slandered you?” 

“Jacob said to many of your chieftains, in the presence of me and my
sons, that I and all those who came with me are as wild, savage boars. 
He said that, even as such boars, we are not fit dwell among civilized 
tribes.” 

During the exchange, Isaac had been sitting just outside the door of his
tent. Now he stood to his feet, his expression one of anguish.  With a 
gesture, he waved to the chief steward of his household to him. 

“Yusaf, send three of your strongest menservants to find my son, Jacob. 
Order them to bring him to me.  If he ignores their summons, have bring 
him here in bonds,” he commanded. 

“At once, master,” the flabbergasted Yusaf replied and hurried to obey. 

Chapter Fourteen 

In Isaac's tent, Jacob stood apprehensively before his father. His  
uncle sat across the tent from them. Jacob had never seen his normally 
placid father appear so angry. Just as Isaac was about to speak, 
Rebecca rushed into the tent and stood next to her son. 

“Why have you come, Rebecca?” her husband asked. 

“It was reported to me that Jacob is here and the lies you have been
told about him.  I come to defend him,” she replied. 

“You will leave here now, Rebecca! This is a matter for which Jacob must
answer for himself,” Isaac ordered. 

“I shall not leave without my son!” she stated. 

Isaac stood and walked to the entrance and called, “Yusaf, please
enter!” 

After his chief steward entered, Isaac instructed him, “Yusaf, have the
same servants who brought Jacob to me escort your mistress from this 
tent. If she resists, have them gently carry her out.  No one is to 
enter here until I say otherwise. 

“Yes, my Supreme Chief, Isaac,” Yusaf replied with a respectful bow of
his head. 

Furious, but unresisting and herself apprehensive, Rebecca permitted
herself to be led away.  This was a side of her husband she had never 
seen. Before this episode, she always felt able to get her way with 
him.  And, like Jacob, she also had never seen Isaac so angry. 

“Now, Jacob,” Isaac began when the three were alone, “Your Uncle Ishmael
has told me of your slander against him.” 

“My father, I did not slander Uncle Ishmael,” Jacob whined. 

“You did not tell our chieftains that your uncle and those who came with
him are as wild boars?” Ishmael asked. 

“No, father.” 

“And you did not say that my brother Ishmael and his sons are not fit to
dwell among civilized tribes?” 

“No, I did not say these things, my father,” Jacob affirmed. 

Isaac continued his interrogation of Jacob. “Then, are you saying to me
that your uncle has lied in reporting that you did say these things?” 

Jacob went silent, understanding that if he affirmed that his uncle had
lied, and that he himself was telling the truth, there were witness 
among the chieftains who would back up Ishmael's report. 

“I await your answer, Jacob,” Isaac prompted, his tone harsh. 

“I have no answer, my father.  My uncle did not lie.  I know there are
chieftains who can witness that I did say these things.  I beg my 
uncle's forgiveness.” 

“Hear me, Jacob.  Understand what I say now, for you are no longer a
child.  Had a stranger said the thing you said about your uncle, the 
stranger would have slain been executed by him. You live now only 
because you are my son. 

“Hear my sentence upon!” Isaac decreed,  “Each day until they depart,
you shall wash the feet of your uncle and your cousins each time they 
ask it of you.  I shall ask them if you have done so.  You shall feed 
and water their camels and horses, as well as our own.   You shall trim 
the hooves of their animals and our own. You shall milk the sheep and 
goats, bake the bread, make the cheese and churn the butter. 

“No servants shall assist you in these tasks; neither shall your mother
do so.  You shall remain apart from her, until I say otherwise.  If 
either you or she refuses to remain apart, I shall extend your 
punishment.  If you refuse to fulfill this sentence, I shall disown you 
as a son, and you shall be driven from the camp. Hitherto you have been 
an indolent, lazy and have refused to do the work of the encampment.  
Now you shall know what it is to work. Should you abandon this camp and 
go elsewhere to escape my sentence, do not attempt to return. Your 
sentence begins immediately!  Do you have more word to speak to me?” 

His eyes lowered, Jacob replied, “No my father.” 

“Then leave us and ask Yusaf to return. He must be made aware of your
sentence.” 

Chapter Fifteen 

The next three months passed quickly. Ishmael, his sons and their
caravan were about to depart for home.  Isaac, Esau and the chieftains 
had gathered to bid the travelers farewell.  Rebecca also was present, 
but reluctantly, and at Isaac's explicit command.  Isaac, however, had 
excluded Jacob, whose sentence had not been lifted. 

Each of Ishmael's sons gave Isaac a kiss of departure.  Isaac kissed his
brother on both cheeks, saying, “Farewell, my dear brother Ishmael. May 
the God of our father, Abraham, guide you safely to your home.” 

Ishmael returned the kisses.  “And may your God bless and keep you,
Isaac,” he replied. 

He took both of Rebecca's hands in his and kissed them.  “I and my sons
leave you now, my lady.  We thank you for your hospitality to us.  
Would you're your God had permitted my spouse Aseneth, the mother of my 
sons, to live.  She would have loved you as a sister, he stated.  
Rebecca nodded, but remain silent. 

Ishmael drew his brother aside. “Isaac, for my sake, please pardon the
young man, Jacob.  Lift your sentence from upon him.  Please, do this 
as a farewell gift to me. And send for him now, that I also may bid him 
farewell.  Remember how you forgave Massa, my son, when he spoke 
disrespectfully of you?” 

“I remember,” Isaac responded. “Bring my son, Jacob, to me,
immediately.” he said to a servant. 

“Yes master,” the man replied. 

It wasn't long before Jacob arrived, appearing tired, disheveled and
disheartened. “I am here, my father. What do you wish of me?” 

“I have sent for you at the request of your uncle. As you know, he and
his sons are now departing for home. Your uncle Ishmael desires to bid 
you farewell.” 

Embracing his nephew, Ishmael kissed him on both cheeks, and then said,
“Come my nephew, kiss me farewell, also.  I have asked your father to 
release you from your sentence.  I desire that we part from each other 
with love.” 

Jacob began to weep. Though his sobs, he said.  “Forgive me for my
foolish word, Uncle Ishmael. It was right for my father to punish me, 
for my speech against you was worthy of my execution.  Forgive me my 
uncle.” 

“I gladly forgive you, Jacob.  Stop weeping now and kiss your cousins
farewell.” 

As Jacob did so, Ishmael walked over to Esau.  Facing him, he grasped
his favorite nephew by both shoulders.  “Esau, my hunting companion,” 
he loudly exclaimed,  “you must come to visit me and we shall again 
hunt together.  There are vast herds of wild oxen near our castles in 
the land of the Egyptians. When you visit us, we shall hunt them 
together. It shall be great sport.  And should the Egyptians attempt to 
prevent us, we shall do battle against them.  That too shall be great 
sport!  What say you?” 

Esau was about to respond, but Isaac intervened, saying, “It is my
prayer that I also shall again be able to visit with you in your land, 
Esau. At that time, I shall have all of my family with me.” 

“And at that time, shall you and Jacob battle the Egyptians along with
Esau and me, if the need arises?” Ishmael teased,  “I venture to you 
will not, for you and Jacob are a lovers of peace.  I again bid you 
farewell, Isaac.” 

As the caravan moved out, Esau asked, “My father, please permit me to
ride with them for a until they arrive at the Oasis of Medi; it is only 
a short ride. I shall then return.” 

Receiving a nod from his father, Esau mounted his horse and followed the
caravan. When it reached the oasis, he again waved goodbye to his 
uncles and cousins, waited until the caravan blended into the horizon, 
then spurred his horse homeward toward the encampment. -30- ©  Josprel 
(Joseph Perrello) josprel@verizon.net About Josprel Josprel resides 
with his wife, Maria, in Western New York, across the Niagara River 
from Canada. He served three years in the Far East as a sergeant of 
operating engineers with the U.S. Air Force.  He then was separated 
from active duty and was placed on a ten-year reserve status.  He 
studied for the ministry under the G.I Bill of Rights, and holds a 
Master of Theology degree. During his years of ministry, Josprel 
pastored three churches, including one in Attica, New York, the 
location of America's bloodiest prison riot. The Attica Prison 
administration requested Josprel to conduct weekly, three-hour-long 
Bible studies for the inmates. Josprel did so for some four years, 
before turning them over to another pastor, due to heavy demands on his 
time. Josprel ministers with the evangelical denomination of his youth. 
He is a prolific writer, whose stories and articles have appeared in 
print and on the Internet. He is authoring two novels: “Beloved 
Apostate” and “Kanfal.” 


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