Author's Note: This story is written in the POV of an Egyptian. Constructive criticism is welcomed.

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize does not belong to me.

Life in Egypt during the Plagues

I stopped when I heard my friend's words. Somehow, what he said did not even seem remotely possible. How could Moses, a former member of the royal household, dare to return to Egypt and demand the freedom of the Hebrew slaves? Had Moses forgotten that he was no longer a privileged member of royalty?

"It can't be," I finally managed. "You must be joking, Panhsj. Pharaoh Amenhotep II will never allow the slaves to be free."

"Listen," Panhsj replied urgently. His dark eyes looked into my soul. "The pharaoh has already refused Moses' demands. But, because the slaves had left their work to hear the answer of the Pharaoh, Amenhotep has ordered their taskmasters not to give them any straw for their work."

"So, what did I tell you, Panhsj," I answered confidently. "Moses might as well give up. He can never succeed in his quest; despite the fact that he says he follows the commands of his God."

Panhsj watched me drain my wine cup. "That is what I am afraid of, Amun." He continued quietly, "Earlier today, Moses turned a rod into a snake."

"The magicians can do that, too," I interrupted impatiently, setting the cup down.

"Moses' brother Aaron's rod – snake, rather – devoured the magicians' snakes," continued Panhsj. "What if the God of the Hebrews actually is trying to free them?"

I rose and looked out to see my well-cultivated land with the artificial lake. "That is impossible, Panhsj," I replied, watching my servants work with my herds of cattle. "I have no doubt that our god Ra will not allow the Hebrew God to deliver them. Now, let us say no more of the matter. The Hebrews will never get their freedom, and this rebellion will come to nothing."

"As you wish, my friend," Panhsj replied quietly.

With that, I brushed the conversation aside and discussed the price of a valuable item I wished to sell to Panhsj. I did not think more of the matter until the next day.

I had sent a trustworthy servant named Rashidi to the Nile River to oversee the watering of the cattle. Rashidi was not long gone when I heard him return. I looked up from my papers, wondering how he finished his work early. He rushed into the untidy office, his eyes wild.

"My master, you would not believe what has happened," he said in excitement.

"What happened, Rashidi?" I asked, half-heartedly.

"My master, the water of the river has turned into blood," he answered, wringing his hands.

"What?" I roared, rising from my seat. "What lies are you telling me? Water cannot turn into blood; it is impossible."

"Nevertheless, it is true, my master," Rashidi replied. "I saw it with my own eyes. The divine Pharaoh had gone to the river to bathe when a Hebrew, Moses by name, suddenly challenged him. I could not hear what he said, but it evidently made the Pharaoh angry. Moses' brother Aaron lifted his rod over the waters, and the river turned to blood."

"Rashidi, you" but I was interrupted by the entrance of another servant named Metit.

Metit immediately spoke. "I am sorry to disturb you, my lord Amun, but something has happened that I cannot explain. The water kept in the stone vessels has turned into blood."

My astonishment and anger were great. "Rashidi," I said, turning to him, "you told me that the river was turned into blood, but you did not mention anything about the water stored on land."

"I was coming to that, my master," returned my head servant. "Apparently, Moses and Aaron said that the water will remain as blood for the next seven days."

I set my lips together. "Are you certain that all the water in the house is affected, Metit?"

"Yes, lord Amun," she replied, nodding. "I checked all the vessels before coming to you."

"Rashidi," I ordered, "saddle my horse. We ride to the Nile River." While Rashidi went off to do as he was commanded, I added, "Metit, send others to check the other watering areas on the property, and collect the water from the old well for present use."

Metit bowed and went out, leaving me alone to my thoughts. I paused, wondering what was going on. "Could Panhsj be right in his conjectures, for once?" I thought secretly, as I quickly changed into my riding clothes and went out to my waiting horse.

I took the reins from Rashidi and quickly mounted. I turned my horse's head to the Nile River, setting the horse's pace. My overseer immediately followed, maintaining a respectful distance from me. As soon as we arrived at the river, I took in the situation before me.

What had once been a clear blue stream of water was now a dark red flow of blood. I could see dead fish washed onto the shore. People were digging along the banks of the Nile, hoping to find clean water to drink. There was great chaos and confusion. It was no small wonder that it was such. The Nile River was our chief water source for drinking, bathing, and watering the land.

"Rashidi," I called, "stay here. I will order a few servants from the house. I want you to start digging near the Nile to get water. In the meantime, we must ration what little water we have left."

Rashidi agreed. "To hear is to obey." As I turned away, Rashidi called out, "My lord, if there is no water to be found, what shall we do?"

"We hope for the best," I answered, riding away.

When I reached the house, Metit met me with more bad news. All the other watering areas, including the garden pool, were now stinking pools of blood. The old well had the same result. There would be no more extra water in the house for the next few days.

"Metit," I asked, after I dismounted, "how much water do we have left?"

"Almost none, master," she replied, her voice faltering. "I know not how we will survive."

"It will end soon," I said, trying to reassure her. "Amenhotep will do everything in his power to beg the gods to help the people. The Nile River will be full of water again."

As I walked away, I could barely hear her say under her breath, "What if he doesn't?"

The next seven days were undoubtedly some of the worse days my household had ever seen. We could not speak much, for our tongues were as dry as dust and seemed glued to the roofs of our mouths. No water was spared for bathing, and everyone was too exhausted to work. Rashidi and the other servants sent to dig for water could only find a small trickle, but even then it was slightly mingled with blood. Even at the house we could smell the overwhelming stench of blood.

To Be Continued...