Free Rachel and Leah (Women of Genesis) by Orson Scott Card Page A

before nightfall—two, so they might find them all the faster. Such extravagance was unheard of.
    So this Jacob was important. Well, it didn’t take much guessing as to why. He was the grandson of the legendary prince and prophet Abraham, who had once taught a Pharaoh of Egypt about the stars, and the son of Isaac, who held the birthright of Abraham. There were whispers about them being the true kings of the earth, who by right should rule over all nations, and that one day an heir of their line would make good on that claim. Laban was a kinsman, but the birthright went through another line—if a daughter of his married the heir of Isaac, then Laban’s grandchildren would be part of that noble lineage.
    Though Isaac had two sons, didn’t he? And rumor had it that they didn’t get along as nicely as Nahor and Terah. Was this Jacob the heir or not? There were stories that had it both ways. So Laban, no doubt, was playing it safe. Besides, elder sons sometimes died before they could inherit, and then it would all be Jacob’s by any accounting. Maybe that’s whatTerah was counting on: Nahor getting so drunk in the city that he would provoke the wrong man and find just how much of a blade could fit inside his body.
    Maybe Jacob was here for the reason young Choraz served with Prince Kedar—hoping to make a place for himself.
    Zilpah caught a couple of glimpses of the man during the afternoon. And then she was assigned to carry in heated water for him to wash himself. This was an opportunity not to be missed—his legs were grimy and he was tired. So she offered to wash his feet for him.
    If Reuel the steward had someone else in mind to wash the visitor’s feet, he gave no sign; maybe that was why she had been sent in with the water. Anyway, Jacob said yes, with thanks, and sat back leaning on one elbow as she put one of his feet, then the other, into a basin and scrubbed off the grime of the road.
    And as Jacob and the steward talked, she loosened the neck of her garment as far as she dared. Because she was not stupid. She would never be more desirable than she was right now. And it was possible he might covet her, and ask Laban for her. Laban’s daughters were both too young to marry—Laban said so to every would-be suitor who inquired—but Zilpah knew she was
not
too young for concubinage. Jacob seemed a kind man, gentlespoken and polite enough to thank a serving girl for offering to wash his feet. She could do no better than to be taken as the concubine of such a man; and even if he only bought her and used her for pleasure, he did not seem the kind of man who would cast out a fatherless child of his own loins. This was a chance, however slight, of a better future, if he only desired her.
    No other man had been able to avoid looking at her withdesire, not once she made the decision to catch his eye. But Jacob was the exception. She might have been a five-year-old or an old crone for all the notice he gave her. She scrubbed hard, too, in the effort to draw his eye, but all he did was wince and say to the steward, “She’s a hard scrubber, isn’t she?”
    When Reuel began remonstrating with her, Jacob only laughed. “I don’t mind—I’d rather be clean when I dine with your master than be left dirty because I wasn’t man enough to bear a little scraping from a little girl!”
    Little girl indeed! Was he blind?
    Or was he some sort of paragon among men, one who was above the power of women? Most men
thought
they were, so tall and strong, so fast at running, so powerful at gripping. How could a woman resist a man? And it was true of bad men, the kind who bullied and forced others to do their will. But most men tried to be civilized, or at least seem civilized in front of others, so they wouldn’t show themselves to be bullies. And over such men, women had enormous power. Zilpah had watched them enough, the wives of the shepherds and weavers and tentmakers, how some of them scolded so their husbands cowered in