A Story of God and All of Us Young Reade - By Roma Downey Page 0,9

"This one lives," she proclaims.

"But what will the Pharaoh say?"

"Let me deal with the Pharaoh. This is my boy now. And I shall name him Moses." Moses, the Egyptian name meaning "drawn out of the water."

Miriam rushes to her mother and tells of Moses' new home. Her mother cries out in joy. Her son will live.

Prince Moses stares straight forward as his maid-servant applies black kohl eyeliner. Moses is a muscular young man, full of ideals and optimism. He has grown up in the Pharaoh's court as a grandson and never known a day of fear, worry, or hardship. His every wish is granted and every whim catered to--most unlike the Hebrew slaves who toil for Pharaoh, from whom he is unknowingly descended. Few know Moses' true story, least of all Moses

himself.

The servant moves behind Moses to fasten the amulet

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around his neck, as he does every morning. This talisman is meant to guarantee safety and good luck, though given Moses' luxurious surroundings, wearing it is more of a ritual to appease the many gods of Egypt.

Batya, his mother, enters his dressing room looking very worried. "Moses,"

she says wearily, "I hope you're not going to fight again."

The prince stands, dressed for combat.

"He keeps challenging me, Mother," Moses says calmly.

"So refuse him!"

The clang of swords soon echoes through the palace courtyard. On one side of the arena is Moses, a skilled and careful swordsman with a deep competitive streak. On the other is a son of Rameses and heir to the Egyptian throne. Both are armed with a sword and shield. They are both nothing more than teenage boys.

"I've been practicing," young Rameses cries with false bravado. His teeth are gritted as he warily circles Moses, eyes fixed on his opponent's sword.

"We don't have to do this," Moses says evenly.

"Yes, we do," Rameses vows, feeling the thick beads of sweat coursing down his forehead and into his eyes.

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"You may be my sister's favorite, but I am the next in line to my father's throne--and don't forget it," Rameses continues.

When Rameses sees that Moses has no intention of fighting back, he attempts attack after attack, hacking down hard on Moses' shield with his sword. Moses even falls to one knee as a sign that this duel is senseless, but the attacks continue.

"Ha!" cries Rameses. "I made you kneel!"

Moses stands. He holds up his shield but lets his sword dangle uselessly to the ground. "Enough. I don't want to hurt you."

"Fight me, Moses. I command you!"

But Moses turns his back. An enraged Rameses runs at him and attacks Moses from behind. This violates every rule of combat. Fed up with Rameses' behavior, Moses turns and fights. Moses strikes blow after blow on Rameses' shield and says, like an older brother, "I will not tolerate this foolish behavior any longer."

Rameses falls to one knee and cowers behind his shield, hoping Moses doesn't take the next step and kill him.

Pharaoh arrives just in time to see Moses embarrassing his son, making the future Pharaoh look weak and unfit. Batya and several palace courtiers are at his side,

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witnesses to Rameses' shame. Word will soon spread in the palace and throughout the nearby villages, and make it apparent that Moses should be the next Pharaoh.

"Stop!" thunders Pharaoh's voice.

Moses turns from Rameses and looks to Pharaoh.

Rameses screams at Moses in pain. "You will pay for this! I will be Pharaoh.

I will be god!" He then turns to his father. "It is your fault. You should have never let her keep him," Rameses screams. Then, a final jab at Moses:

"You're not even one of us!"

"He's right," Pharaoh tells Batya.

Moses stares at his mother, who looks away. The truth is starting to dawn on him. "What's he talking about?"

"Tell him," Pharaoh orders his daughter. With that, Pharaoh and a smirking

Rameses leave the arena, followed by a small army of unnerved courtiers.

A most confused Prince Moses is left alone with Batya. "Tell me what, Mother?" he asks, not sure if he wants to know the answer.

A tear falls down Batya's cheek. "Moses, I love you like a son. But you are not my blood."

"Then who... is my mother?" he mumbles in shock. "Where did I come from?"

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Batya takes him to a window. In the distance they can see the Hebrews laboring in the hot sun. "The slaves, Moses. You were a slave child. I saved you. You also have a brother. And a sister. But they are not like you and me.

They worship the God of their ancestor Abraham, and he has