“My mother made him send Ishmael away to keep me safe,” said Isaac, “and so Father lost him when Ishmael was twelve, and never had that boy in his life again. Only the grown man—grown and raised by his mother. Hagar was one to hold a grudge forever, I can tell you, and when he returned here as a grown man to make peace with Father, he wouldn’t speak to Mother and Mother wouldn’t let him come close to me, which made Ishmael storm off in a rage. It broke Father’s heart, to lose Ishmael. And he still mourns for the happy child Ishmael once was.”

“You can’t know what Ishmael was like. You were just a baby when it all happened.”

“I heard the story of how Ishmael was sent away. And all the rest of it I either saw for myself or heard from Father.”

“Ishmael couldn’t hate you for something that happened when you were an infant.”

“As if hate went by logic or justice,” said Isaac. “Very well, perhaps he doesn’t hate me. Perhaps when Father dies he won’t come down here with all his men and burn the tent down over our heads and kill me and you and any children we might have.”

Isaac said this very mildly, but Rebekah was shocked. “Is that something you think is possible? That he would do that?”

“That’s what Mother feared. No, expected. She was the one who insisted that all our shepherds be trained for war, even though Father was at peace with everyone.”

“But you,” said Rebekah. “What do you think?”

“I think the Lord will fulfill his promises to Father, and I think it will be our children through whom those promises are fulfilled.”

“But that doesn’t mean Ishmael won’t try it, is that what you’re saying?”

“Even Father only knows as much of the future as the Lord shows him.”

“Why doesn’t Ishmael hate your father then? He’s the one who sent Hagar away.”

“A man hate his own father? Make war on his father? Ishmael may have been raised on hate and vengeance, but to strike a blow against your own father would make him a monster in everyone’s eyes. He’d have no friends in the world, and only the worst of his men would continue to follow him.”

“But he might kill a brother.”

“Half-brother. Who stole his inheritance simply by being born. Rebekah, you only had the one brother; you don’t know what it’s like. There’s no one you love like a brother, and no one you hate like a brother, too.”