Transcript
Narrator/Host (0:00)
This is an Iheart podcast. Guaranteed human.
Narrator (0:04)
Previously on the Chosen People.
Ramses (0:07)
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 (0:25)
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 (0:39)
Amram. Jochebed. Hide the baby. Hide him now.
Pua (0:45)
Pua, what's going on?
Jochebed (0:48)
Take your son and hide now. Pharaoh's men are coming.
Narrator (0:52)
Jochebed's hands trembled as she placed the basket into the water, her heart beating, breaking with each breath.
Pua (1:00)
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 (1:15)
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 (1:37)
His name shall be Moses because I drew him out of the water.
Narrator (1:42)
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.
