In the aftermath of nine devastating plagues that ravaged ancient Egypt, a high priestess desperately seeks to prevent the impending tenth plague. Still, her efforts fail, leaving her at the mercy of an enraged pharaoh. Meanwhile, the pharaoh's son...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"What would happen to us now, Eliahba?"
Re'hotpe pretended not to eavesdrop as he brushed the gleaming fur of Black. The stallion didn't look its best due to harsh weather and the little water supply, but it was still strong.
I'm taking good care of it, mama—erm, mother.
"I trust Moses would come up with something. The Lord would bring us out of this." Eliahba sounded confident.
"But we are stuck. Can't you see? There's a sea in front of us! I'm scared. What if we do not find a way out? What if the pharaoh comes after us?"
Re'hotpe's heart sunk to his stomach and flew back up. He gulped and gripped the brush tighter.
"Come, Michal. Let us talk of this elsewhere."
Re'hotpe sighed in disappointment when they retreated.
"You look like you ate a beetle."
Re'hotpe turned to Japheth and grimaced at his dishevelled appearance. His hair was ruffled by the wind and his tunic and face were stained with mud. "And you look like you rolled in dung."
Japheth looked down at his clothes in confusion. "Hmmm. I thought it wouldn't be so obvious. This is mud though; dung is simply taking it too far."
"You rolled in mud?" Re'hotpe asked, aghast. "Why would anyone want to roll in the mud? Why do you do these things?"
Japheth shrugged and grinned. "I don't know. Why don't you roll in the mud? Why don't you do these things?"
Japheth snatched the brush from Re'hotpe and shoved it in the saddle bag. Re'hotpe winced when Japheth smeared the horse and leather bag with mud.
"I have no time for such activities," Re'hotpe said as he dragged his eyes from the stained bag and focused on Japheth. "There are greater things to think of, things to contemplate on."
"You're such an old man," Japheth said with a chuckle. "And did I ever tell you you remind me of my great-grandfather? He never smiled or laughed. The first time I saw him smile..." Japheth shuddered and stared into space. "He had one tooth! One tooth that just dangled there."
The image of a smile exposing a dangling tooth made Re'hotpe laugh. He nudged Japheth. "You're so silly."
"You act like him sometimes. He was never happy. He talked on and on about the story his father told his father. He would tell us of our ancestors, of Abraham and Isaac. His speech always sounded funny, you know? He pushed his words through lips that were pressed together and shrunken. Is it strange that I miss his gloomy presence sometimes?"
Re'hotpe smiled sadly and shook his head. "No, it's not."
"I don't think I'll ever miss your sad presence, though. Ha!" Japheth threw an arm over Re'hotpe's shoulder, mud and all.
