Aaron’s voice rang out. “The Lord God of Israel says, Let my people go.”

  Pharaoh shook his head sadly. “How much must your people suffer, before you learn?” he asked.

  “That is the question God asks of you,” said Aaron.

  Moses spoke loudly to Aaron, this time intending for all to hear. “Aaron, the Lord God commands that you stretch out your hand over the waters of Egypt. By the command of God, all the water of Egypt, in all the channels of the Nile, in every pool and pond, in every jar and vessel, every font and cup, will turn to blood.”

  Aaron thrust out his arm over the water of the river. Then, pulling a cup from his shoulder bag, he reached down and scooped water from the river. When he poured it out, the other petitioners gasped, and one cried out. For in the first light of dawn, the liquid was bright red, like blood from a fresh wound.

  At once the petitioners knelt on the steps and touched the water, cupping it in their hands, tasting it on the tips of their fingers. “It’s blood!” they cried. “It’s all blood!”

  “Blood,” said Ptahmose.

  Tuthmose was filled with loathing. Moses and Aaron had done this in the sight of his beloved son. His first instinct was to order them arrested. But that would look like weakness. It would look as if he believed in this trick of theirs.

  “Your petition is not granted,” said Tuthmose. “I’m not impressed by these foolish tricks.”

  “For seven days,” said Aaron, “the Nile will run with blood.”

  Ignoring Aaron, Tuthmose carried Ptahmose back up the steps to the palace. Sakhmet, the queen, followed him, wisely refraining from any comment.

  Throughout the land there was no water, and within hours the clamor became desperate. Only when someone noticed that water seeping into a deep hole was pure enough to drink did the complaints give way to a plan. All through Egypt, wells were dug, and water was hauled with desperate haste to the places where people could not find new water no matter how deep they dug.

  And the story spread that the god of the Israelites had done this, because Pharaoh refused to let them go out into the desert to offer sacrifices.

  Jannes and Jambres made a great show of turning water into blood in front of hundreds of witnesses in the great hall that afternoon, and the official line was that once again, the god of the Israelites had done nothing that Egyptian gods couldn’t do. But when Tuthmose was alone with the two priests, he had a very different opinion. “Are you trying to make me look stupid?” he demanded. “What good is it to prove that you can also turn water to blood, if you don’t have the power that I need, which is to turn blood back into water!”

  To that, Jambres and Jannes had nothing to say.

  “No more of these demonstrations,” said Tuthmose. “I’m sure you can come up with convincing illusions every time, but as long as you don’t have the power I need, I don’t want to see you showing off a power that no one wants. It makes me look pathetic.”

  The priests bowed.

  “Moses thinks I’m going to send for him and ask him to remove this curse. But the people are getting water by digging holes. He can make blood rain out of the sky for all I care. The Israelites will stay in Egypt. He’s lucky I don’t start killing a hundred Israelites a day until he stops this nonsense.”

  “Why don’t you?” asked Jambres.

  “Because I’d be making a hundred martyrs,” said Tuthmose, “and even if Moses complied, it would only demonstrate that he was the one with the power, while all I could do was kill.”

  “Very wise,” said Jambres.

  When the priests had left the palace, though, Jambres had a different opinion. “Tuthmose is confused. It bothers him that Moses’ god has such power.”

  “I’m not sure,” said Jannes. “I think it’s not the Israelite god that Pharaoh fears, but the Israelite himself. Moses is the one who is driving us all before him, and Pharaoh hates that. No matter what he does, he’ll look weaker than Moses. In front of another man, Pharaoh might humble himself. But he would rather die than humble himself in front of Moses.”

  “Then the Israelites have made a mistake, choosing Moses as their prophet,” said Jambres.

  “He was chosen by their god,” said Jannes. “And who knows what their god intends? As long as it’s Moses who faces Pharaoh, Pharaoh’s heart will remain hardened against all pleas or demands. What I fear is that this god wants Pharaoh to refuse, so that the power of the god will be shown at its fullest.”

  “Father,” said Jambres, startled. “You believe in this Israelite god, then?”

  “Haven’t you tasted the river?” said Jannes. “It’s blood. Pure blood. The fish have died because they can’t live in it. Their corpses line the river’s edge and the stink is already rising. This is not trickery.”

  “But the Israelites are suffering right along with our people,” said Jambres. “They’re out there digging wells like anyone else.”

  “Digging wells,” said Jannes, “but not making bricks.”

  “Ah,” said Jambres. “Not meeting their tally. Shall we remind Pharaoh of this?”

  “What can he do about it? Being harsh with the Israelites has brought this plague on us. I don’t think he’s willing to face the consequences of being harsher still.”

  “And what do we do?” said Jambres. “This is making us look weak and ineffectual, too.”

  “We say nothing,” said Jannes. “We give no counsel, unless asked. It’s Pharaoh who is getting the whole blame for provoking this plague. Why in the world should we bring any part of that down upon ourselves?”

  “That’s one reason why I admire you, Father,” said Jambres. “You always remember to keep first things first.”

  “I still think it’s unwise of Tuthmose to keep letting people see him with Moses. The contrast is painful.”

  “I don’t know, Father. If they remember what Moses was, perhaps so. But Moses is no longer the powerful general or the wise ruler.”

  “No, he’s a priest now,” said Jannes. “And to tell the truth, my son, I don’t much like having people see the contrast between him and us, either.”

  * * *

  Miriam tried to be patient with the complainers, but as each day wore on, her temper wore out. “Yes, it’s miserable having to dig new wells every day! Yes, the water is brackish and it still tastes like there are traces of blood in it! But try, try to remember two things: This is a miracle! It means that God loves us! And the Egyptians are having to dig wells just like us, and drink the same miserable fluid that we’re drinking. They are feeling the mighty hand of God. Is there nobody who thinks this might just be a change for the better?”

  * * *

  Now when Moses and Aaron entered the hall of judgment, the courtiers were silent, sullenly respectful of the men whose god had the power to make their lives miserable for seven long days. Privately, many of them were impatient with Pharaoh for not killing these men so this nonsense would end. The other half, fearing the wrath of the Israelites’ god, were impatient with Pharaoh for not letting the Israelites leave . . . so this nonsense would end.

  No one said any of this to anyone else, however, for the words would surely be repeated to Pharaoh, cutting short a career at court.

  Aaron’s words were simple. “Pharaoh, will you let the Lord’s people go?”

  Pharaoh sullenly said nothing.

  Jannes was all simpering kindness. “Moses, Aaron, what have the people of Egypt done to you, that you treat them so unkindly? Didn’t Egypt provide succor for your ancestors when they were starving in the famine in Canaan? Haven’t you enjoyed the best that Egypt had to offer for generations? And this is how you return thanks.”

  Aaron ignored him. “Speak now, Pharaoh, to permit Israel to go worship God in the wilderness, or frogs will cover the land of Egypt. There will be frogs in your house, in your bedchamber, in your bed, and frogs also in the houses of all your servants and all the people of Egypt. They’ll have to sweep frogs out of the ovens to bake, out of the troughs to knead, and shake frogs out of their clothing at every hour of the day.”

  Jannes chuckled. “The old frog trick,” he said. “Look.” A frog plopped out of his sleeve and into his hand. He tossed it into the air, and when it came down, there were three on the ground where it landed, hopping and leaping. “The Nile runs clear again. The frogs will also come and go.”

  “The wrath of God will only grow greater because of your mockery,” said Aaron.

  Aaron turned and led the way out of the hall. This time, though, many of the courtiers slipped out after him, and outside the palace a large crowd waited. Many groaned when they saw that Moses and Aaron seemed angry. And when Aaron reached the bank of the Nile, there was a crowd of many hundreds gathered to watch.

  “Please! Not blood again!” cried someone in the crowd, and many murmured their agreement.

  Moses spoke. “Stretch out your hand, Aaron, over the waters of Egypt, and bring forth a plague of frogs.”

  Aaron stretched out his hand. “Frogs,” he cried. “Serve the Lord God of Israel!”

  At once the water seemed to bubble and froth. But the bubbles streamed toward shore, and soon thousands of frogs were jumping out of the water. Nor were these timid animals—they jumped up onto the people, then climbed higher, tangling themselves in hair, plunging into clothing. Many tore their clothing off rather than have frogs inside it. In moments, the crowd had dispersed and fled. The frogs moved on like a green sea over the surface of the ground.

  Moses and Aaron were also covered with frogs, but they made no effort to remove them. “Aren’t you just a little disgusted to have these things crawling on you?” Aaron asked quietly.

  “These frogs serve the Lord. I’d rather have their company than any number of rebellious or wicked people.”

  “May I pluck a few from me now and then, without harming our mission?” asked Aaron.

  Moses chuckled. “I think the question of how to deal with the frogs is an individual one. I don’t recall any scripture that says the righteous must lie down with frogs.” As if to demonstrate, Moses pulled one off his beard and tossed it lightly to the ground.

  “Miriam won’t like this,” said Aaron, pulling frogs out of his robe and shaking them off his staff. “She bears the brunt of the complaining. Isn’t there some way to make the plagues strike only the Egyptians, and leave the land of Goshen alone?”

  “When Israel submits gladly to the will of God, the Lord will no longer need to afflict them with the plagues.”

  “Are the frogs going to make them gladder to submit?” asked Aaron.

  “I think this number of frogs is rather an impressive sight,” said Moses.

  “Oh, I’m impressed,” said Aaron. He made a disgusted sound and bent down to pull a crushed frog from between his sandal and the heel of his foot. “I hope it’s all right that some of them die.”

  * * *

  Ptahmose cried all night, terrified of the frogs. Hundreds of servants kept watch all around his room, but even when every frog had been found and the bed made afresh, Ptahmose still wept in fear and kept feeling frogs on him; and though sometimes no frog could be found, other times a frog had somehow gotten in between the sheets. Finally Ptahmose fell asleep in his father’s arms, as the Pharaoh of the Two Kingdoms walked the floor late into the night with his firstborn son.

  It was still dark when, sleepless and despairing, Pharaoh sent servants to fetch Moses and Aaron. This late at night, there was no public meeting in the hall of judgment. This time they were brought into a small room, one that Moses remembered well, for it was here that he and Hatshepsut had counseled with each other about the government of Egypt. He was surprised that, except for some nostalgia for the woman who had been his mother and teacher, he had no regrets about leaving this place. He hadn’t realized it at the time, any more than Pharaoh understood it now, but in these rooms in the palace there could be no vision. The world was small here, and the decisions made within these walls were also small. It took the Lord to drive Moses out of this narrow pen into the wider world of God’s creation, but he was glad now that the Lord took such care for him.

  Pharaoh came in almost as soon as Moses and Aaron arrived. There were no intermediaries now—Jannes and Jambres followed him into the room, but they were silent.

  “Moses,” said Pharaoh. “Ask your god to take away the frogs from me and my people.”

  But it was not Moses who answered him. “That will be easy,” said Aaron, “when you let the children of Israel go out to offer sacrifice in the wilderness.”

  Pharaoh’s mouth set hard when he saw that Moses was not going to speak to him directly. “When the frogs are gone, I’ll let your people go.”

  Aaron turned to Moses, waiting for an answer. Moses put his hand on Aaron’s shoulder, and spoke directly to Pharaoh. “The Lord knows how much it cost you to make this promise,” he said. “When do you want me to ask the Lord to rid the land of frogs?”

  “In the morning,” said Pharaoh.

  “It will happen at the time you said.”

  Many sleepless people saw Moses and Aaron emerge from the palace, and they saw that the prophet and his brother were smiling. “Will the frogs be taken away?” they asked.

  “Pharaoh has promised that when the frogs are gone, the children of Israel can also go,” said Aaron.

  But Moses whispered to him, “Of course you know that once the Lord takes away the frogs and he can get a good night’s sleep, Pharaoh won’t feel the same sense of urgency about letting us go.”

  “Pharaoh will go back on his word?”

  “I know he will,” said Moses.

  “Then why remove the frogs?” asked Aaron.

  “Because he hasn’t broken his word yet. We must treat him as a man of honor until he proves he doesn’t deserve it.”

  As the first light of dawn came up on the sleepless people in the land of the Nile, the frogs in their houses and their fields, in the streets and in their clothing, became sluggish, then inert. They were dead, killed by the light of day.

  But the problem wasn’t over. There were all those dead frog bodies to dispose of. Huge piles of the corpses were gathered, far too many to be buried, nor was there fuel enough to burn them. By nightfall the whole land smelled of decomposing frog bodies. But at least there were no frogs in their beds, and the people could sleep.

  The next day, Moses was awakened by the shouting of people arguing with the overseers. “The frogs are gone,” the chief overseer declared, “and there are bricks to be made!”

  Moses came out to find Aaron and several of the tribal elders arguing with the man. “Pharaoh promised,” Aaron said.

  “I have my orders. My most particular orders that the Israelites are to make a double tally in the next week to make up for the time wasted by these plagues.”

  Moses intervened. “You may tell Pharaoh that the people of Israel will gladly obey him. There’s no quarrel between the Israelites and Pharaoh, only between Pharaoh and God. It is the Lord God who will act.”

  “Well, don’t go thinking you can bother Pharaoh any longer,” said the overseer. “I’m to bar you by force from leaving Goshen. You won’t be at the palace again.”

  “But I have no need to go there,” said Moses.

  “I’m also to keep you from going to the river,” said the overseer.

  “All right,” said Moses. “Not the river, and not the palace.”

  The overseer glanced around to see who was listening, then spoke quietly. “Please, I’m only doing what I was commanded to do. Don’t bring back the frogs.”

  “You can tell Pharaoh that if his word isn’t kept, there are worse things than frogs that the Lord can send.”

  No sooner had the overseer gone, than Moses took Aaron with him and began walking a circuitous path along the outskirts of Goshen. The Egyptians saw that Moses was on the move, and that soldiers were watching him. Soon a crowd fell in step behind him, and by noon there were so many thousands of Egyptians crowding around him that the soldiers could not come near, and a cloud of dust arose from the shuffling feet on the dry soil. The people kept calling out to Moses, sometimes pleas, sometimes threats.

  Aaron was uneasy. “Moses, these people are angry at us. Are you sure we’re safe?”

  “We’re as safe as the Lord needs us to be,” said Moses. “And we need witnesses.” Then, loudly, so all could hear him, he said: “Because Pharaoh broke his promise to let the children of Israel go, the Lord commands you: Aaron, stretch forth your hand over the dust of Egypt, and the Lord will bring lice onto the bodies of all the beasts and human beings in the land.”

  Grimly Aaron stretched out his hand, turning a full circle as he did. Even those who hadn’t heard Moses’ words soon learned what he had said, as the dust was transformed into lice. The people, immediately covered with the tiny creatures, inhaling them with every breath, ran shouting from the place—raising more dust, and more lice, as they ran.

  * * *

  Tuthmose paced up and down in the room as a slave combed lice out of the Queen Sakhmet’s hair. “Do you think I cause these things?” he said. “Do you think I had the priests conjure lice out of the dust of the ground? Jannes and Jambres took such pride in making snakes from sticks, blood from water, frogs from their sleeves—I told them to make lice, and all they did was scratch themselves and say, ‘If you want more lice, these were made by the finger of the Israelite god.’ They were on the edge of mockery, those baboons.”

  “You’re the one,” she said, “who came railing to me about Ptahmose crying all the time. All I said was, I didn’t make the lice.” She never raised her voice at him. She knew—everyone knew—that after Tuthmose’s lifetime of experience with Hatshepsut, he did not want any hint of a strong-willed woman around him now.

  “But what you meant was that I did.”

  “You are a god,” said Sakhmet, “but as far as I know, not a lice-making god.”

  “You think I should let them go!”