She knelt up, reached out, and took her father’s hands in hers, bowed over them, and kissed them. Then, taking the writing stick, she answered him. “God will provide a husband for me, if I am to marry.”

Pillel reached for the stick and wrote in large letters, “Ezbaal will make a dangerous enemy.”

Father frowned. “Just because a man is disappointed in love . . .”

Pillel wrote quickly. “He goes home. Rumors fly. He’s embarrassed. He gets angry. He needs to restore his pride. He looks for chances to hurt you. The wound festers.”

Father shook his head, but Rebekah knew that Pillel was right.

“Soon the slightest offense becomes a pretext for war,” the steward wrote.

“He came for a marriage,” Rebekah said to Pillel. “So let him go home having made one.”

Pillel looked at her as if she were crazy. “Who else would be worthy to marry Ezbaal?”

Father slapped lightly at Pillel’s hand. “Write, don’t talk. I want to hear this.”

Rebekah took the stick from Pillel. “Ezbaal brought his sister, the one who calls herself Akyas,” she wrote. “She was married once, but no longer, and you are also unmarried.”

Father laughed. “Me?”

“Tell him your daughter is too young to marry, you’re not ready to let me go. I never had a mother’s training. But you want the families to be united.”

“I know nothing about this Akyas,” said Father. “Her name even means that nobody wants her!”

“She’s the sister of Ezbaal,” said Pillel, and Rebekah wrote his words.

Then she added her own. “She’s something of a beauty, if she doesn’t hide behind her hair. And very smart. And strong.”

“Then let her marry Laban!”

Laban loudly said, “No!”

“She’s a grown woman,” wrote Rebekah. “It would be like Laban marrying his mother.”

Father laughed, but she could see he was considering it. He looked at Pillel.

Pillel took the stick. “If Ezbaal says no, then you are matched, refusal for refusal. No shame.”

“But what if he says yes?”

“So what?” wrote Pillel. “You already have your son and heir. If you hate her, let her have her own tent and pay no attention to her.”

“You have a bleak view of marriage,” said Father.

Pillel said nothing.

“Let me think,” said Father. “All this talking—all this waiting for you to write—it makes me tired.”

Rebekah got up at once and kissed her father, then embraced him tightly. He could not hear her voice, but she knew he would understand how she was thanking him. He was not going to make her marry Ezbaal. He was even considering taking a wife he didn’t want, just to spare her the unhappiness of having children with a man who did not serve God.