Chapter One by Carole Towriss

Author:Carole Towriss
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Four Diamonds Publishing

The water clock said the day’s work was finished, although the sun would not set for some time. Finally, Bezalel’s week was over. He needed his family tonight. He packed up his tools and shut the door of his workroom behind him.

He left the palace and headed northwest along the river, and in less than half an hour reached his village. A day or so was hardly enough time. Thankfully, he lived close enough to come home midweek sometimes, if his workload permitted. Ammon had given him leave to choose his own time off as long as he accomplished his work. Would his new master do the same?

The evening sun cast long, misshapen shadows east over the river, and the cooler air beckoned people outside. River birds darted above the heads of the small children who hid among the papyrus reeds. Older children began arriving from the brickfields along with the adults. Several younger boys shouted as they played a game of chase near the river. Bezalel stopped and watched.

Their innocent joy refreshed him after days with the selfish king.

“Hey, palace rat, leave them alone! Stay away from them!”

Bezalel flinched, and looked around for the voice that yelled at him.

A group of mud-stained young men his age stood a short distance away, staring at him. The leader stood in front of the rest, arms crossed. His bushy beard made him look older than the others.

“I said, leave! We don’t need your kind here.”

Not tonight. His feelings were raw already. No matter how often he explained, some still couldn’t believe he did not have a choice of whether or not to work in the palace. The lack of mud on his tunic and blisters on his hands provided the only provocation some needed to hate him. He had no energy to argue tonight. Still, if they wanted it ... He headed toward them.

“Bezalel!”

A familiar voice caught his attention. He turned to see his grandfather ambling towards him.

Bezalel stared a moment at the group then walked away.

“Sabba.” Bezalel smiled and hugged his grandfather.

“Welcome home, habibi.” His grandfather clapped him on the shoulder. “Problem?”

“Not anymore.” They fell in step as they strolled through the narrow streets of houses made with adjoining walls. They passed a couple nuzzling near the door of a mud-brick home. A gaggle of boys kicked a ball. Girls huddled, pointed, and giggled as boys walked by. Everyone had someone. Everyone except him. Sometimes—often—he wished he made bricks like everyone else.

It would be so much easier. Why did he have to be different?

They reached their small home. They removed their sandals and walked through the large room into the open-air kitchen in the back.

“Bezalel, you’re home!” His mother dropped the large spoon she was using into a pot, grabbed Bezalel, and held him close.

“Yes, Imma, I’m home.” He smiled broadly and hugged her back then pulled away and kissed her on the cheek.

“Oh, a week is too long, habibi. Hungry, I hope? I roasted a duck since you are home for dinner tonight.

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