Hand of Miriam, A Bayla and the Golem Novel

Bayla tapped her camel. "Tut tut." It bawled and broke into a gallop. 

She brought her camel to a stop and their Bedouin porter guided her camel to its calloused knees. Isaac came to her side. "Would you like a hand, my love?" 

"No, but thank you." Bayla twisted to one side and dismounted. She turned back to the boulder where the shadow had appeared. Still nothing. She lifted her goggles above her brow and rubbed her sore hips. Camels were a smooth ride over sand, but the terrain here was mostly small pebbles, and after a week her hips were suffering. "An oasis pool would be nice to bathe in." 

"Indeed. According to my map, there's a pool about a half mile from here." He drew her in and wrapped an arm over her shoulder. "Stand still my dear, and smile." 

The automaton camera obscura he named Gizmo, faced them. It chirped three times. Pop and smoke. Their picture was taken. Gizmo adjusted its lens, ready to take the next photograph. 

"Now then, let's make camp." 

Bayla admired his enthusiasm as he ordered the porters where to unload the equipment. It was hard to believe he was twelve years her senior. You would think that at her youthful age of four and twenty years, it would be she running around. She stretched, removed her pith helmet and shook out her dark hair. 

Isaac turned and smiled. "Bayla, you look like Queen Bathsheba." 

"I suppose that makes you King David?" Like the great legendary king, Isaac had a mane of red hair. Her King David was short and thin, only an inch taller than she. Though a small man, he conveyed great authority and never lost an argument. Of late, his fellow scholars had scoffed at his latest theory and she worried if they didn't find evidence, he would return discredited. She raked her hair with her gloved fingers, lifted her head in regal poise and mewed a seductive purr. "I demand you rid the palace of all concubines and share only my bed." 

Isaac laughed and took a swig of water. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Bayla, you were meant for the theatre, but I'm happy you like digging in the sand. Drink and put your hat back on." 

In the desert, Isaac had two rules: drink water every twenty minutes and wear a hat at all times. He would not lose his wife to dehydration. She pointed to the sky. "Look at the clouds. Do you think we might get a storm?" 

"Most unusual, rain is a rarity, but a blessing nonetheless." He patted his brow and shot her a frown. "Hat." 

"Oh, very well." She donned her pith helmet and followed him down the rocky path. Would a younger husband be less protective? She followed Isaac's gaze and gaped. 

They ambled into an immense assemblage of rock art and stones. Isaac pointed to a rock engraving of an ibex. "Definitely a Paleolithic cult from the Bronze Age." 

Most of the depictions were of animals such as scorpions, snakes and other desert creatures. 

Ahmed, their Bedouin guide, waved. "Professor Gideon, come look." 

Isaac grabbed his equipment carrier and dashed over. She grabbed her collector's satchel, lifted her skirt and ran to join them. She blinked to assure herself this was no mirage. "Twelve standing stones." 

Isaac stood in the middle of the circle awestruck and uttered, "Exodus 24: 4 'And Moses got up early in the morning and built at the foot of the mountain an altar and twelve pillars, for the twelve tribes of Israel.'" 

Bayla moved to the next set of stones but her eyes caught a familiar picture beyond the circle. "Isaac!" She bent down. "A menorah." 

He rushed to her side. "Yes." His eyes widened as he glanced on another stone. "A serpent and staff." He turned to Ahmed and spoke in Arabic. The Bedouin nodded and the porters dashed to bring their equipment and tents closer.