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Narrator/Host
This is an Iheart podcast. Guaranteed human.
Narrator
Previously on the Chosen People.
Ramses
These Hebrews are like rats breeding in the shadows. They already outnumber my soldiers. We must cut the Hebrews off before they become unmanageable.
Narrator
When Pharaoh's men arrived, they did so with the violence of a summer storm. The streets that had buzzed with life now rang with the screams of mothers as soldiers tore their children from their arms.
Jochebed
Amram. Jochebed. Hide the baby. Hide him now.
Pua
Pua, what's going on?
Jochebed
Take your son and hide now. Pharaoh's men are coming.
Narrator
Jochebed's hands trembled as she placed the basket into the water, her heart beating, breaking with each breath.
Pua
My sweet boy, my child. I pray that our God will protect you. I fear I can't anymore. I have to believe there's something greater for you. Myself, I have to believe.
Narrator
The basket was a vessel of salvation. Although chaos raged around him, the baby was safe inside. Miriam watched the basket flow into the banks near Pharaoh's palace, where a group of women were bathing in the morning sun. Princess Bitya waded toward the basket and brought it back to the steps.
Jochebed
His name shall be Moses because I drew him out of the water.
Narrator
When Moses was weaned, he was returned to Princess Bitya and raised as a prince of Egypt. He grew up alongside Ramses, the son of Pharaoh Seti, the future ruler of the land. But despite the opulence of the palace, a shadow hung over Moses of the Hebrews that clung to him like a second skin. While Ramses embodied the glory of Ra, Moses remained a figure suspended between two worlds. He was neither fully Egyptian nor entirely Hebrew, neither slave nor free. He was Moses, the stray Hebrew pup raised in the heart of Pharaoh's court. Moses planted his right foot firmly into the dust, his sandal grinding into the loose earth, and cocked his shoulder back. The wooden practice sword felt heavy in his hand, not from its weight, but from the rage simmering beneath his skin. With a guttural shout, he lunged forward, swinging wildly. But Ramses was quicker. The prince sidestepped and Moses stumbled forward, his momentum carrying him off balance. Ramses seized the opening, driving his knee hard into Moses ribs. A sharp gasp escaped Moses lips as he crumpled to the ground, the taste of blood on his tongue. Ramses swung his sword in a swift arc and aiming to end the bout with a single blow. But Moses rolled away just in time. He scrambled to his feet, clutching his side where the pain lanced sharp and unyielding anger flared hotter than the desert sun. Moses felt the familiar loss of control, the fire in his blood demanding release. He roared and charged at Ramses again, swinging wildly, recklessly. Ramses ducked the first strike and parried the second. His movements were fluid and precise. Behind them, their Sabayt's voice cut through the clash of wood on wood.
Sabayt (Instructor/Taskmaster)
Easy, young Moses. Don't lose your temper again.
Narrator
But Moses heard nothing save the rush of blood in his ears. He snarled, his teeth bared like a cornered beast, and lunged once more. Ramses saw it coming, stepping lightly aside and driving the wooden blade hard into Moses. Back. Moses fell forward, hitting the ground with a breathless gasp, his fingers clawing at the dirt.
Ramses
You fight like a frightened animal, Moses. Stop bearing your claws and think like a man.
Unnamed Instructor/Voice of Authority
Don't tell me what to do. You're not Pharaoh yet.
Narrator
The words were hot and reckless, and they spurred Moses to his feet. Abandoning his sword, he charged Ramses, his only thought to close the distance, to bring the fight to the ground where he was strongest. Ramses braced himself, raising his sword. But Moses slipped low, dipping his shoulder and tackling Ramses to the dust. The two of them hit the ground in a tangle of limbs, and Moses was on him in an instant, his arms and legs coiling around Ramses like a python grappling in the dirt. Moses squeezed with all his might, his teeth gritted, his breath ragged.
Unnamed Instructor/Voice of Authority
Yield, Ramses.
Sabayt (Instructor/Taskmaster)
Never.
Unnamed Instructor/Voice of Authority
You're too proud to lose to a Hebrew. I said yield.
Ramses
I refuse.
Narrator
Rage blinded Moses, drowning out all reason. He squeezed tighter, oblivious to Ramses desperate gasps for air to the darkening of his face. He did not hear the instructor's shouts, did not feel the sting of command that echoed around them.
Sabayt (Instructor/Taskmaster)
Enough, Moses. Release your hold.
Narrator
Moses couldn't hear him. His fury burned too hot.
Sabayt (Instructor/Taskmaster)
I said enough.
Narrator
But Moses was deaf to all but his own fury, lost in a tempest of his own making. The instructor's hand came down hard on the back of Moses head, a sharp blow that jolted him from his red hayes. He blinked, breath hitching, and released his hold. Ramses rolled away, clutching his throat, gasping for breath that would not come.
Ramses
My mantle's big. I thought you were going to kill me.
Moses
I. I'm sorry, Ramses. I shouldn't have done that.
Ramses
You're lucky my sister found you in that water. If it were me who saw you floating on the Nile, I would have pushed you closer to the crux.
Sabayt (Instructor/Taskmaster)
That temper of yours will be your undoing, Moses.
Moses
Yes, Sebeyt. I. I don't know what came over me.
Ramses
That was your Hebrew showing. That's why they need the whip. They're Animals in need of a master. Remember that. You're not one of them, Moses. You're in the household of Pharaoh. Act like it.
Moses
Yes, Ramses. I really didn't mean to.
Narrator
But Ramses had already turned his back, leaving Moses standing alone, his brow furrowed with a mix of shame and anger. Ramses was the favored son, the heir to the throne. The dawn of Egypt. Moses was a prince only by the will of the gods and the whim of fate. A prince by right, but not by blood. His Hebrew birth clung to him like a shadow, A constant reminder of a truth he could never escape.
Moses
Who am I?
Narrator
Moses let his wooden sword drop into the dust. His eyes followed it, staring, as though the answer to his turmoil might lie in the splintered wood. He turned and walked away, his steps slow and heavy, each footfall dragging through the sand as if weighed down by invisible chains. He meandered through the palace courtyards. Moses wrestled with his place in the world. A prince trapped between two identities, between two names. Was he an Egyptian prince? Or a Hebrew orphan? A lord? Or a survivor? The sun hung low over Thebes, a golden disc of fire casting its dying light across the city of pharaohs. The air was filled with the smell of incense and the sounds of the marketplace. Merchants hawking wares, the chatter of slaves and the rhythmic pounding of drums from a distant town. This was the beating heart of Egypt, a city of splendor and power, where the Nile's sacred waters carved a path through the desert, bestowing life upon all who dwelt in its shadow. Moses walked among the throngs, his stride measured and regal. A prince garbed in linen finer than the webs of spiders. Sandals of gilded leather strapped to his feet. The people parted before him, heads bowing, eyes averted. He was a figure of reverence, the adopted son of Pharaoh's daughter, raised in the lap of luxury and trained in the arts of war and statecraft. Yet as he moved through the streets of Thebes, past the towering obelisks and grand colonnades, he could not escape the unease that gnawed at his heart. The city was a marvel, an endless sprawl of white stone and gleaming gold adorned with statues of gods and kings. Here, Horus and Ra watched with eyes of lapis. And the Sphinx guarded the secrets of ages past. The palace loomed in the distance, a fortress of power, its walls painted with the victories of pharaohs long dead. Yet to Moses, the grandeur of Thebes had begun to feel like a facade, a gilded mask hiding a festering wound. As he passed, a Procession of priests leading a sacred bull to the temple. He found his gaze drawn not to the finery of the ceremony, but to the faces of the men who labored to clear the path. They were Hebrews. Their skin burned dark by the sun, their bodies lean from toil. They did not look up as he passed, their eyes fixed on the ground, their expressions hollow. They were his people, his blood. A voice whispered in his mind, insidious and relentless.
Moses
You are not one of them.
Narrator
The thought was both a curse and a comfort. Moses knew he was a prince of Egypt, yet he felt no kinship with the land of his upbringing. He was a son of the Nile, but his blood was the blood of slaves. The sound of hammer on stone drew him from his days, and he turned his eyes toward the outskirts of the city, where the pyramids rose against the horizon like mountains of despair. Here, Pharaoh's vision of eternity was etched into the earth. He drew closer to a worksite. Slaves swarmed over the stones like ants, their backs bent beneath the weight of granite blocks. Overseers stalked among them, whips cracking like thunder, their shouts harsh and unforgiving. The slaves did not meet Moses eyes as he passed, but he could feel their silent plea, a cry for mercy that went unanswered day after day. Guilt twisted in his gut. He was a prince of Egypt, and yet what had he done to deserve his station? He had lived in luxury while his people bled and died to build monuments to gods they did not worship. He was a Hebrew by birth, but he had been raised as an Egyptian, taught to revere the very men who enslaved his kin. He belonged to neither world, caught between two identities, like a man trapped between two mirrors. His reflections split and distorted. Moses stopped at the edge of the work site, his gaze lingering on a young man no older than himself, struggling to lift a stone that was too heavy for him. The overseer's whip lashed out, striking the man across the back, and he staggered, falling to his knees. The man screamed in pain.
Sabayt (Instructor/Taskmaster)
Hebrew dog, get up and lift.
Narrator
Moses felt a surge of anger, hot and fierce, but it was quickly tempered by shame. He turned away, unable to bear the sight any longer. But as he did, the young man's eyes met his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The sound of the cracking of the whip echoed. His heartbeat intensified and his fists bald with tension. The taskmaster's whip was heavy against the Hebrew's back. His arm fell like lightning.
Sabayt (Instructor/Taskmaster)
What will it take to get you working? Do I need to drag your wife and children here to remind you of What I'm capable of.
Narrator
Stop. I'm trying.
Sabayt (Instructor/Taskmaster)
Did I say you could speak? Work faster, he said. Faster. Move, dog.
Narrator
Mose's heart pounded, his back blood boiling. No one else would act. No one else would intervene. His feet moved of their own accord, his voice coming out as a shout, raw and commanding.
Ramses
That's enough.
Unnamed Instructor/Voice of Authority
Leave him alone.
Sabayt (Instructor/Taskmaster)
These dogs need to know who their masters are.
Unnamed Instructor/Voice of Authority
I said enough.
Narrator
In a blur of motion, Moses leapt at the overseer, his fist connecting with the man's temple. The commander staggered back, raising his whip to strike, but Moses tackled him to the ground, the two of them rolling in the dust. They struggled, the commander's hands clawing at Moses. But the prince pinned him down, his hands closing around the man's throat.
Unnamed Instructor/Voice of Authority
How does it feel to be the one afraid for your life, huh? How does it feel?
Narrator
The overseer's eyes bulged, his face darkening as Moses squeezed tighter. The world narrowed to the sound of his own breath, the rush of blood, the panicked flailing of the man beneath him. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the struggle ended. The overseer's body went limp, his eyes glassy and still. Moses released his grip, stumbling back in horror. He looked down at his trembling hands, unable to comprehend what he had done. He turned to the Hebrew, who stared at him with a mixture of fear and gratitude. But when Moses stepped forward. Forward. The man flinched.
Hebrew Slave
Please don't hurt me, Lord Moses.
Moses
No, I. I didn't.
Unnamed Instructor/Voice of Authority
I. I would.
Moses
I would never.
Narrator
The Hebrew man ran, disappearing into the maze of stone and sand, leaving Moses alone with the lifeless body of his victim. His breath hitched in his throat as he dragged the corpse to a pile of rubble, hastily burying it beneath loose stones. When he was finished, he stared at the crude grave, his heart pounding with the weight of his crime.
Moses
What have I done?
Narrator
Who am I? Moses fled back to the palace, his steps frantic and unsteady, tears streaking his dust covered face. He stumbled through the torchlit corridors, his breath coming in ragged sobs. Finding a secluded corner, he sank to the floor, burying his face in his hands as the reality of his actions crashed over him. But even in the stillness, there was no solace. Footsteps echoed through the hall, and Moses hurriedly wiped his face, trying to compose himself. From the shadows emerged Ramses, his expression unreadable. Moses bowed his head, hoping he would pass by without notice. But Ramses stopped, studying him with a mix of curiosity and disdain.
Ramses
You look like cow dung.
Moses
I feel like cow dung.
Narrator
Ramesses hesitated, his usual arrogance tempered by something softer.
Ramses
Listen, Moses, what I said earlier about pushing you to the crux was unbecoming of me. You are a member of this household and a brother.
Moses
It's all right, Ramesses. I provoked you. Sabeita's right. I. I need to control my temper.
Ramses
And I need to control my tongue. If I'm ever to ascend to the heights of Ra and touch the sun, I shouldn't lower myself to such words.
Moses
You are kind to apologize.
Narrator
Ramses nodded, but there was a warning in his eyes as he turned to leave.
Ramses
Today will be behind us. But I warn you, Moses, I will not be dishonored in such a way again. My sister. Son or not, I will be mocked by no one.
Moses
Understood, Ramses.
Narrator
Moses watched him go, feeling the familiar sting of rejection mingled with a desperate longing for Ramses approval. When his uncle disappeared around the corner, Moses let out a long, shuddering breath. He dragged himself to his bed, but sleep did not come easily. The image of the dead man's eyes haunted his dreams, a relentless spectre that kept him tossing and turning until at last he could stand it no longer. Rising, he made his way to the river. The first light of dawn had yet to touch the sky, and the Nile's waters ran dark and swift, whispering secrets as they cut through the land. Moses stood at the edge, staring out at the currents, the wind tugging at his robes. He closed his eyes, trying to remember what had happened all those years ago. The stories his mother had told him came to mind of the basket that carried him through the reeds, of the gentle hands that cradled him against the cold waters. But it all felt like a half remembered dream, a puzzle missing too many pieces. The breeze carried a soft murmur.
Ramses
Moses.
Narrator
A stirring in the reeds that almost sounded like a voice. Moses eyes snapped open, his heart quickening. He peered into the mist, but saw nothing save the shifting shadows of the riverbank.
Ramses
Who?
Moses
Who's there?
Narrator
There was no answer. Moses shook his head, pushing the strange feeling aside. The whisper was gone, but the questions remained, gnawing at him as he turned away from the river edge. Moses wandered back into the city, the early morning still cool with the last remnants of night. As he walked, he saw two men locked in a heated argument, their voices raised in anger. They were Hebrews, their tunics stained with the dust of their labour.
Hebrew Slave
Every time you take a break, you leave me carrying an entire load myself. Finish the job.
Ramses
Carrying most of the load anyways. I take more breaks because you refuse to do your fair share of the work.
Sabayt (Instructor/Taskmaster)
Take that back.
Narrator
The smaller of the two took a jab at the other the larger man returned with an even greater blow to the man's jaw. Moses immediately stepped in to help.
Unnamed Instructor/Voice of Authority
Stop.
Hebrew Slave
Why do you fight each other?
Moses
Stop this nonsense at once.
Narrator
The men hesitated, but when they looked at Moses, their expressions turned cold. They saw not a fellow Hebrew, but a prince in fine linen. An Egyptian in every way that mattered.
Hebrew Slave
Are you a taskmaster now, Moses? You're going to whip us into submission? Who made you prince over us, anyway? I heard rumors you're a Hebrew just like the rest of us.
Moses
No, I.
Ramses
Hey, be careful. He might lose his temper on you like he did with that Egyptian yesterday.
Hebrew Slave
Ah, yes, we all heard about that.
Moses
How did you know about that?
Narrator
Moses stepped back. Terror coursed through his veins. If these slaves knew about the murder, surely word had reached the palace by now.
Ramses
Are you gonna murder us like you did the Egyptian?
Hebrew Slave
Who are you, Moses? A vigilante? A tyrant? Whose side are you?
Narrator
Moses turned and fled, his heart pounding as he bolted through the streets. He reached the palace courtyard, but skidded to a halt when he saw the guards. A dozen of them, their eyes scanning the grounds. They were looking for him. Moses spun on his heel and ran, his breath hitching in his throat as he stumbled down the palace steps. He crashed into a vendor's car to sending figs spilling onto the stones.
Sabayt (Instructor/Taskmaster)
There he is. After him.
Narrator
Moses ran, his feet barely touching the ground as he tore through the crowded marketplace. He dodged past startled merchants, sprinted down the cobblestone streets, and ducked into the narrow alleys that twisted through the city. The guards were close behind, their shouts growing louder.
Sabayt (Instructor/Taskmaster)
Get back here. By the order of Pharaoh, I had.
Unnamed Instructor/Voice of Authority
To get out of here.
Narrator
Moses didn't stop. He bolted through the eastern gate, diving into the dense brush that lined the riverbank. The reeds rustled around him as he crawled toward the water, slipping into the Nile's embrace. He stayed hidden, his body submerged, as the guards passed by, their torches flickering in the dark. When dusk finally fell, Moses emerged from the water, shivering and spent. He crossed to the far shore, each step taking him farther from the city that had been his home and his prison. The land stretched out before him, a barren expanse of sand and stone, unforgiving and uncharted. Moses wandered the desert, his thoughts a whirlwind of guilt and fear. He was no longer a prince, nor was he a slave. He was an exile, a fugitive with no home and no kin. The desert wind howled around him, biting at his skin, and the sun beat down with merciless intensity. Moses trudged on, driven by a need he could not name. Haunted by the man he had killed and the questions that gnawed at his soul in the vast emptiness of the wilderness, Moses was utterly, desperately alone.
Credits Narrator
This prey.com production is only made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents. Steve Catena, Max Bard, Zach Shellavaga, and Ben Gammon are the executive producers of the Chosen People. Narrated by Paul Coltofianu. Characters are voiced by Jonathan Cotton, Aaron Salvato, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan, Stephen Ringwald, Sylvia zaradoc, Thomas Copeland Jr. Rosanna Pilcher, and Mitch Leschinsky. Music by Andrew Morgan Smith. Written by Aaron Salvato, Bree, Rosalie and Chris Baig. You can hear more prey.com productions on the prey.com app available on the Apple App Store and Google Play Store. If you enjoyed the Chosen People, please rate and leave a review.
Narrator/Host
This is an iHeart podcast. Guaranteed Human.
Episode aired January 5, 2026
In this evocative installment of The Chosen People, listeners are immersed in the turbulent early life of Moses, focusing on the story behind his infamous act—murdering an Egyptian overseer in defense of a Hebrew slave. Through dramatic storytelling and rich characterizations, the episode explores Moses’s internal struggles with identity, anger, guilt, belonging, and fate. The narrative delves deeply into the high stakes of living between two worlds—Egyptian royalty and Hebrew heritage—and the moral cost of action in an unjust world.
“You fight like a frightened animal, Moses. Stop bearing your claws and think like a man.”
– Ramses (04:31)
“That temper of yours will be your undoing, Moses.”
– Sabayt, Instructor (06:57)
“Who am I?”
– Moses (07:56, 16:09)
“The world narrowed to the sound of his own breath, the rush of blood, the panicked flailing... Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the struggle ended.”
– (Narrator, 14:52)
“Please don't hurt me, Lord Moses.”
– Hebrew Slave (15:34)
“Today will be behind us. But I warn you, Moses, I will not be dishonored in such a way again."
– Ramses (17:55)
“Are you a taskmaster now, Moses? Who made you prince over us, anyway?”
– Hebrew Slave (21:03)
“Are you gonna murder us like you did the Egyptian?”
– Ramses (21:35)
“He was no longer a prince, nor was he a slave. He was an exile, a fugitive with no home and no kin.”
– Narrator (23:20)
On identity and rage:
“That was your Hebrew showing. That's why they need the whip. They're animals in need of a master. Remember that. You're not one of them, Moses. You're in the household of Pharaoh. Act like it.”
– Ramses (07:08)
On the act of violence:
“How does it feel to be the one afraid for your life, huh? How does it feel?”
– Unnamed Instructor (14:47)
On the weight of guilt:
“What have I done?”
– Moses (16:09)
On being discovered:
“Who are you, Moses? A vigilante? A tyrant? Whose side are you?”
– Hebrew Slave (21:37)
| Timestamp | Segment Description | |---|---| | 00:07–01:42 | Prologue: Infanticide, Moses’s birth and rescue, adoption by Princess Bitya | | 01:42–06:57 | Moses grows up: Training, violence, and identity struggles with Ramses | | 07:56–13:50 | Moses’s alienation: Thebes, the Hebrews’ suffering, and the gnawing guilt | | 14:00–15:42 | The Murder: Moses kills the Egyptian overseer in a fit of rage | | 16:09–17:38 | Aftermath: Guilt, confrontation, and fraught conversation with Ramses | | 19:29–21:44 | Moses Intervenes Again: Hebrew slaves rebuke him; rumors of murder | | 22:11–24:09 | Moses’s Flight: Discovery, chase, and exile into the desert |
The episode weaves a somber, contemplative tone, rich in emotion and introspection. The dialogue and narration maintain a storytelling gravitas, blending drama and theological reflection, never shying from moral ambiguity or the profound loneliness of personal transformation. The tension between fate and free will, action and regret, is palpable throughout, making the story viscerally relevant to listeners wrestling with their own identities and difficult choices.