A-A-A

"If you are wealthy, and set up a household, be gracious to your wife according to what is fair. Do not condemn her, but keep her well away from power. Control her, because her eyes are quick and sharp."

-Maxims of Ptahhotep

A-A-A

To amuse myself, I used my toys to recreate some of the stories that Joseph had shared with me.

I spent nearly two days creating a tiny tent out of wooden pegs and scraps of cloth and it became the home of the nomad. My dolls played the roles of the nomad and his wife. I led them back and forth across the table, imagining them on their trek to and from Egypt, with bits of pottery as their sheep and cattle. Another time I amassed a pile of sand and had the dolls perform the drama of the two quarrelling brothers disputing over a piece of land. Or I stacked a pile of pebbles and imagined it to be the giant tower the people built before their twisted tongues knocked it over.

The most enjoyable story-act was that of the flood. I lined up all my clay animals and pretend my dolls were the righteous man and his family gathering up the animals for the ark. I had even gotten Manu to carve me a small roughly hewed wooden boat that sufficed as the ark that would provide for their needs as the waters in my imagination rocked and rolled against the boat for forty days and forty nights.

But even Joseph's stories could not sustain me indefinitely. After two months of this play, I became less interested in my toys. I'd take them out, only to find them dull after a few minutes before returning them to their boxes. Or three or four days would pass where I didn't even take them out at all.

There's nothing amusing about talking to a piece of wood that won't talk back, I thought to myself.

Little did I know that while my body was still that of a child, my interests and tastes were beginning to alter.

The natural beauties of the estate still held interest for me. Nature was constantly changing, alternating itself, and I could amuse myself for hours while Zulekia tended to her own affairs or Weret had to rest her weary bones with a long afternoon nap. I still went to the edges of our fields where the wild robust flowers grew, so unlike the prim cultivated one in the courtyard, and gathered them for hours. Or I'd go down to the river and watch the fish swim tentatively to the surface of the water, only to shiver away quickly if I shifted my position.

Even lying upon my back and watching the clouds swirl into each other gave me a sense of peace. Nature was stimulating, in motion. The constant change helped to curb my restless mind.

"Asenath?"

I had been watching the clouds morph into different shapes when Joseph's face appeared before me. I sat up and dusted bits of grass off my skirt. I smiled to him, and he returned the smile, though the corners of his eyes and mouth looked tight. I could see his expression was not genuine and asked him if something was wrong.

"No, no. Nothing at all," he assured me in a voice that was too quick and too light to be calm. "Zulekia has decided it is time to resume your lessons. I have been instructed to bring you to her."

To hear this delighted me, but I pondered why Joseph was the one to do this task instead of Weret. She might be lazy in the warm thick afternoon heat, but her bones could still move. Moreover, Joseph had many tasks to do as overseer of the house.

Nevertheless, it was not my place—or Joseph's place- to disobey the lady of the house. So, I made haste to follow Joseph back to the estate. There I washed my face and hands and smoothed down my hair to make myself suitable for Zulekia.

I followed Joseph into the sitting room where Zulekia sat reclining upon a couch. She seemed to be perfectly arranged with the folds of her dress all around her slender limbs as though she was ready to be painted upon our walls. A bowl of fruit, cups, and a jug of wine sat on a table before her.

I entered and bowed respectfully to her. "My lady," I said.

"Asenath," she remarked, with no trace of emotion in her tone. Then her chin lifted somewhat higher and, I could have been mistaken, but a glimmer appeared in her eyes.

"Well done, young Joseph," she complimented him. Her tone had become somewhat warmer than before.

"Thank you, my lady." His fingers knotted themselves in front of his stomach.

Zulekia gestured to the table. "Will you join us for some refreshments?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I must decline," he said. "Potiphar has several repairs he wants me to take care of promptly."

I was in earshot and close enough to hear Zulekia mutter under her breath, "Of course he does."

A dull silence suddenly came over the room until Joseph cleared his throat. "May I go, my lady?"

I hadn't moved all this time—nor did Zulekia. She remained upon the couch without moving so much as her head, but her eyes seemed to be bobbing up and down in their sockets. At last, she said, "Yes. You may go. But return within the hour to escort Asenath out."

Joseph nodded and exited with some haste. My own eyes had gone from him to Zulekia, who finally began moving to adjust her position on the couch. The layers of linen around her rustled and murmured when she moved.

She let out a sigh—of relief or disappointment—and only then gave me her full attention.

"I want you to listen to the scripts of the ages, Asenath," she told me.

Zulekia unfurled a scroll that had been propped up next to the fruit. She cleared her throat and began to lecture me.

"Today we will proceed with the tale of Hathor, and how she drank the river of beer dyed by the hand of Ra."

A-A-A

Such was the way of things for the cycle of a moon. Whenever I had a lesson to attend, Joseph was ordered to stop whatever work he was doing and bring me to Zulekia, then return and escort me out of the room. Every time he arrived, she was adorned with different jewelry or had switched out the colors around her eyes. Zulekia often gave him beaming smiles, but Joseph responded with the same tight-lipped formality and hastened to exit the room.

This peculiar method puzzled me. It may have been clear to an adult from the start of what trouble this was all about. But recall, gentle reader, that my years were few and tender. I had been shielded from the shadows of the world. I had to observe more of what was to unfold before my eyes and only then could I come to my own conclusions.

My thoughts finally came to fruition when Joseph was assisting Manu in repairing the southern wall. I knew this because they had been it for nine days and were eager to have it finished before Potiphar returned. I had watched them oversee the construction and giving the slaves instruction where to place the bricks but the two of them were also stripped to the waist due to the intense heat. What's more, both men had dust and sand clinging to their skin.

This was no matter as Manu and Joseph could wash themselves at the end of the day. But I thought it best not to disturb them during the daytime and instead, asked Weret to escort me to Zulekia's sitting room.

"Oh, fine," she grumbled, rising slowly out of her favorite chair. But she put her warm pudgy hand into mine and together we entered the room.

Zulekia was sitting upright today and her back was straight as an arrow. She had just selected a piece of fruit from a bowl when we came in. I smiled at her and doing my best to be a good ward, said cordially, "Good afternoon, my lady. I am prepared for today's lesson."

The black slashes that were her eyebrows instantly turned downwards. Her red mouth also turned down and for a moment, her beautiful features twisted into a frightening image.

"What is Weret doing here?" she demanded. "I gave you specific instructions to have Joseph escort you."

"Yes, my lady," I said with surprise. "But he is currently preoccupied with mending the—"

"—I don't care what he's doing. Manu can do it without him," she interrupted me pertly. "Go fetch Joseph and bring him back here with you."

I should have obeyed her, but my mouth fell open in bewilderment. Then I blurted out, "But my lady, I am already here. Why must I go out again and then return with him?"

Zulekia slapped a hand down on a table, causing Weret and I to nearly jump. "I gave you an order, Asenath!" she snapped at me. "Now do as you're told and fetch him! I don't care what condition he is in, just bring him here immediately!"

Mumbling an apology, Weret bustled me out of the room. "You'd better do as she says," Weret muttered out of the corner of her mouth before exiting around a corner.

Still dazed by Zulekia's response, I made my way to the wall. Manu grunted to see me interrupting their crucial task, but I meekly explained that I could not disobey my lady by returning to her without Joseph—and that he must come at once.

A pinched look came into Joseph's eyes. He gestured down to his sweaty chest and dusty shoulders. "I need but a moment to clean myself up," he protested.

"She said now. This instant," I said. I felt genuine remorse for making him perform all these tasks as though he was a common slave again and I added meekly under my breath, "I am sorry."

He exhaled but nodded and handed his documents to Manu. "No need to apologize, Asenath. We will both do as she says." Speaking thus, he went into the house with me at his feet.

We re-entered the room where Zulekia had just begun cutting into a melon with an ivory-laden knife. She glanced up slowly as we came in, as though we were wasting her time.

"My lady, here is Asenath. As you requested." There was just a hint of pertness in Joseph's voice. He turned on heel to leave but Zulekia's voice cut him short. Despite the heat of the day, I felt a shudder go through me from the chill in her words.

"I did not give you permission to go, Joseph," she declared.

He remained facing the door, his back to the both of us.

"Turn around. Stand here."

He rotated in place; eyes averted towards the floor.

"Look at me when I speak to you," she commanded.

I saw the Joseph's curls tremble when he tilted his head upwards. Zulekia looked cool and elegant in her green dress with a sash of gold falling and pooling around her feet. Her lips were glistening petals and her eyes as fine as gems. Joseph wore nothing more than a simple kilt for a day in the heat. His chest, shoulders, and arms were bronzed with sun and sweat.

He seemed to squirm beneath her gaze.

Zulekia just continued to stare at him until I was sure she was going to forget why we were there. Finally, she said, "Go".

He let out a deep breath, as though holding in all of a day's air, and departed.

I knew better than to refute Zulekia twice in one afternoon, but my head was still reeling from this mayhem. She was still starring hard at the door where Joseph had exited and by the look on her face, she seemed to be willing him to appear again.

A shaft of dusky light beamed out of the window and hit the bright handle of her knife. I saw it glimmer and then a flash of crimson burst before my eyes.

"My lady!" I cried out.

The knife in her hand had slashed across her palm. I saw the red liquid swell up to the surface as the rivers of the Nile swell and overflow in the rapid seasons. Zulekia let out a curse, dropping the knife where it clattered to the floor noisily. She brought her palm to her lips and began sucking out the blood in short frantic gulps.

She stopped only long enough to say to me, "No lesson for today, Asenath. Go away."

I still wished to be helpful so I asked, "May I fetch Weret? And get you some fresh bandages and clean water?"

"I said go!"

Go I did, and my feet could not have moved any faster as I dashed away from that room that smelled too much of her perfumed oil and Joseph's sweat. Twice in one day the illustrious lady who seldom lost her temper had shouted at me. The sting of her words was fresh in my ears, and I thought I too would bleed from the inside out.

But I had to curb my personal anger towards her long enough to show her adequate respect. I managed to find Weret and informed her that Zulekia had cut herself and needed some assistance. Weret moved with more energy now, bustling around the room as she folded up linens and poured clean water into a bowl. But she kept murmuring under her breath, "It is not decent. It is not proper."

"What is not proper?" I asked. "Please, Weret. Tell me."

"Nothing for you to worry about, Asenath," she declared. "Zulekia may just be upset from cutting herself. It is not a pleasant thing, but she will recover. It was good you informed me."

But something still niggled inside of my head. I chewed on my lip and thought a bit. "I was wondering…is it possible that Zulekia is ill?" I asked slowly.

Weret nearly dropped the bowl. "Ill? Of course not!" she exclaimed. "Don't be silly. Zulekia has never been ill a day in her life. She never has been or will be."

"But I have heard that even the healthiest people could have a temporary illness," I protested. "Or the heat can bring on a brain fever that changes—"

"-nonsense!" Weret interrupted me. "Brain fever, indeed! You must not accuse the lady of this house of such things."

"But Weret," I continued, ignoring her scowl. "Zulekia has never changed her garments so often or insisted that just one person escort me to my lessons. She is too clever to let a knife slip in her hand so easily. I am concerned with her odd behavior."

"Then let her be odd!" Weret snapped at me. "It is not your place to ask. Your place is to do as you are told. And now I am telling you to let her be!"

With this, she picked up her tray of items and flounced out of the room. No sooner was she gone then I heard the tittering sound of giggling in the doorway. The proud pouty face of Ahti had appeared. She leaned against the doorway and folded her arms across her chest.

"Ha ha!" laughed Ahti. "It is the most amusing thing ever! Won't Potiphar be surprised what goes on in this place."

"What is?" I implored. "What is going on around here, Ahti?"

Her blue-frosted eyes eyes slanted towards me with scorned amusement. She retorted, "If you can't see it in front of your eyes, you don't deserve to know."

Her words confirmed my fate. There was no one I could confide in.

But I could keep my own council. I could keep my eyes and ears open even when my lips were sealed—and that's just what I did.

I listened to the sound of the maids giggling and Ahti making playful jokes while I pretended to play with my dolls. I arranged flowers in a bowl while out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Weret cluck her tongue and shake her head. I observed Zulekia's rapidly changing moods beneath my half-closed eyes. One moment she was animated and vicious, the next she was meek and pious for Potiphar. Some days she picked her food and looked haggard while others she drank deeply from her wine goblet until a flush came to her cheeks.

When Potiphar had asked her about her bandaged hand, Zulekia sweetly explained it was a mere accident that she had let the knife slip. He had lauded her with so many concerns that I thought her façade was unworthy of his tenderness.

I had to think and think some more. And after several weeks of thinking, I finally came to conclusions on my own.

Zulekia had not been interested in my lessons. She had not been interested in the melon she was going to eat or even the knife gripped in her hand.

She had been interested in Joseph. And she was still only interested in him.

A-A-A

Later:

"Asenath! Asenath!"

Zulekia's voice was now high and musical but there was an urgent current beneath it. Whatever she was calling me for meant she needed (or wanted) something from me.

I was in one of the smaller storage rooms near the kitchens where I just gone to fetch some figs. Zulekia had appeared in the doorway and now fixed the full power of her stare upon me. I stood in place with the bowl of figs and did my best to match her gaze with the most innocent one I could muster.

"Do you know where Joseph had gone?" she demanded. The gleam in her eyes cautioned me that disobedience would result in dire consequences.

I widened my eyes to make myself appear as innocent as possible. "Don't lie," warned Zulekia. "I know he entered this room recently."

The sweet and spicy fragrance of the oil she had rubbed onto her skin brushed against me. The hem of her skirt ceased fluttering when she stopped. I watched her attention finally shift from me to survey the storage room, as though Joseph could have hidden among the pots and baskets stacked around us.

I, who had admired Zulekia all my life, was struck by a new observation.

She looks silly, I thought. Here is a grown woman, the respected lady of the house, chasing after a young man who is half her age! She pursues him the way a young pup pursues a fresh piece of meat. What that she would spend at least half of her efforts to please her husband—

But I dared not speak these thoughts aloud. Instead, my head twisted towards the large square-cut window where I had seen Joseph exit some time ago. It was so large that an adult could easily step in and out of it.

"I saw him go that way," I said slowly. "But I do not know if he went right or left. But the fields are cleared so perhaps he went down to the river…."

"Of course! The river would be most practical now." Zulekia was suddenly beaming again. "Well done, child. Let's keep this between us, shall we, Asenath? I would like to surprise him."

I nodded my head woodenly and then watched her also step through the window.

I waited several more minutes before approaching the window. To the right, the harvested fields rested beneath the sunbeams of Ra's might. To the left, the narrow path led down to the Nile. I could still detect Zulekia's perfume upon the window frame.

She'll ruin her dress and stain her sandals by the riverbanks, I realized. And if she does that and realizes Joseph isn't there…

"Asenath!" I heard Joseph call in a hoarse whisper.

I put down my basket and made myself the third person to climb through the window that day. I was now standing just a step outside of the house. Joseph said my name again and my ears guided me above my head. I turned in place and tilted my head up to see him leaning out of the second story balcony.

"Is she gone?" he asked warily.

"Yes," I assured him.

Joseph reached his arms down to me. "Grab on and I will pull you up." I reached up to him and our hands clasped together. With only a bit of restraint, Joseph managed to lift me up and pull me up and over the second level balcony.

When my feet were settled upon solid ground, I could now see how Joseph was trembling all over. But he seized my hand and guided me inside, to another room where we kept the baskets of soiled linen before washing them again. Surely nobody would enter this room unless they absolutely had to. Here we were safe—for now.

Joseph crouched between two enormous baskets and spoke to me in a frantic whisper.

"Oh Asenath, I am frightened!" he gasped. "More frightened than I have ever been in my entire life! I had thought I was safe at last, but now I see I was a fool from the start."

I watched him rise and begin pacing the small room as he rubbed his hands over his head and then his mouth.

"I should not have behaved so brash. I should have listened to my father's words and been more prudent," he groaned. "Modesty won't save me now."

Only now did he notice me and mutter, "You don't know what I speak of, do you?"

The thick smell of tension that had been settling all over the house for weeks had taken an offensive odor. I finally decided to break up the miasma by being blunt.

"She wants to bed you," I said aloud.

"Shh!" He narrowed me into the wall and clamped his hand over my mouth. I caught a whiff of ripe olives; he must have just oiled his hands. "I beg of you, do not speak it further lest your words bring harm."

When Joseph lowered his hand I asked, "Why not? Everyone in the house knows it. But no one else will say it!"

He saw I was upset, and his shoulders slumped. "Yes, Asenath. No one else in this estate would confess, but you had the courage to say the words aloud."

My feet shuffled together awkwardly. "It's not courageous to speak when you're the last to know."

Joseph smiled weakly at me. "You found out on your own. That is good enough."

"What have you done about this?" I asked him.

He looked exasperated. "Done? What can I do? I am the master's servant," Joseph said. "I cannot contradict her."

"You must tell my lady it is wrong."

"Do you think I have not tried?" he cried out bitterly. "I have told her many times that my master has trusted me to manage the affairs of the estate. All that goes on in the fields, the gardens, the kitchens, and the house has been a privilege for me to manage. He has given me hand over everything that is his—but the one thing my hand cannot touch is his wife!"

My eyes lowered. "But your hand was upon me. You carried me back from the river."

"That is different. You are his ward."

He wrung his hands as though they itched. "It is wicked, it is wrong," he muttered. "My father told me it is one of the worst sins a man can commit. It is bad enough to steal another man's possessions or shed his blood. But to steal his own wife, that is an abomination to God."

When Joseph spoke of his God, the fear in his voice seemed to temporarily leave him and be replaced with conviction. Clearly, he was not immune to Zulekia's advances, but he was calling upon a higher power to withstand her. And there were few who could do that.

"Tell the master," I suggested.

"I dare not. Without sufficient evidence, Potiphar could accuse me of the most terrible crime," he said. "I have been employed here only a year while he has known his wife for many years. Moreover, I am a foreign slave. Who would believe my word against hers?"

Heaviness settled within my chest when I realized that he was right. But then a sliver of hope seemed to take the burden out of me as I asked, "What if we fled together?

"What?!"

"We could leave the estate in the dead of night. None would see us."

"Hush, Asenath! Are you mad?" He jabbed a finger in the air. "What you say is impossible! A runaway slave is a dead one! Potiphar has swift horses and can summon more of them to catch fugitives. Moreover, the desert can kill a man in a fortnight."

"Besides, you are Potiphar's ward. If we fled together, that would add kidnapping to my crimes," he added remorsefully. "And even if by some miraculous fate we were able to leave Egypt, what would I do with you?

I lifted my hands upwards. "Take me back to Canaan with you," I spoke frankly. "Show me your rocky slopes and the cool rains. Introduce me to your father, Jacob, and your mother who has eyes of silver."

Joseph's mouth pursed up in response. At last, he said, "My mother is dead."

I winced to hear this and apologized, but it was a feeble effort. His father, he added, was alive the last time he saw him, but Joseph did not know of his current condition.

He heaved out a sigh and collapsed upon the floor. His arms dropped over his knees. "Asenath, I wish I did have the ability to show you the land of my fathers." Joseph leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. "But my hands are bound."

I gently lowered myself so that I could sit next to him against the wall. I was not slave, but my own hands were bound as well. I had no power or authority to amend the terrible situation.

"I thank you for helping me hide from her," he said at last. "You have been trustworthy to me, Asenath. And I am grateful for it."

I blushed from his words. "I, I am only glad to help you," I whispered. "But I wish I could do more."

He opened his eyes and starred into mine. His were bright and brilliant, as though full of unshed tears. "What you have done is more than enough to me. A good friend and a good name are more precious than sacred oil."

At the time, I did not fully comprehend his parable. After all, enough sacred oil could have bought Joseph his freedom and let him go out from the estate, far away from Zulekia's eyes. But to be called "friend" by this elusive yet sincere Semite temporarily soothed my concerns.

So, I too leaned against the wall, and we sat in silence together as trustworthy companions. We remained in our brief quiet haven until the shadows of the room rotated and fell away and Joseph had to go downstairs and prepare for Potiphar's evening meal.

Zulekia came back from the river before her husband came home. Her was dress stained with water and her lips were tight from an exhausting trek without finding her prize. I had to button my lips and hold in my breath not to laugh at her, so I just averted my eyes respectfully away as her maids bustled her off to a fresh bath.

I knew she would be enraged to learn Joseph had taken me into his confidence, rather than her, so I had to lock up my friendship with him and bury it in the deepest part of myself.

I would not let anyone else take this secret from me.

A-A-A

Our lessons were sporadic and random from then on. Whenever Joseph continued to escort me, he kept a strained look in his eyes. Zulekia kept starring at him whenever he was around, but she ate and drank less, growing thinner than ever. Her lovesickness was taking a toll on her body just as it was taking a toll on Joseph's nerves. All around the estate Ahti would snicker and Weret would threaten to cut her tongue out.

It was no wonder I made myself scarce as much as possible. This suited everyone—including me. I had no desire to get mixed up into more trouble. The wild gardens were good to hide in the morning and in the afternoon, I twisted reeds together into makeshift rafts and sailed them across the river. Sometimes I picked up a stone and scratched marks in a boulder to see how high I could count. Twenty was an impressive feat and I tried to keep the numbers up if only to think less about Zulekia's problem.

But one afternoon I was advancing towards my favorite spot when I noticed it was occupied by the broad shoulders and sloping nose of a man.

It was Potiphar.

He was sitting on the ground without a horse or even a slave to fan his face. It was most peculiar as I always saw him standing upright, seated in an elegant chair, or sitting upon a horse. To see him upon the ground in such casual fashion was odd, even if he had spread a mat beneath him to keep the dirt from sticking to his tunic. A small jug of beer was beside him.

Potiphar's eyes were upon the river and his head was directed off into the distance where a skiff of fishermen were plying their trade. I took a step backwards and hoped to exit without him noticing but he spoke:

"I know you are there, Asenath."

I winced from the sharpness in his words.

"Don't be scared, girl. Come here."

I had no choice but to approach him. He moved over just enough on the mat to make room for me. This at least gave me a bit of assurance that I had not entirely lost favor in his eyes. I took a seat and waited patiently for him to continue with the conversation.

At last, he spoke again.

"By now you must know what is occurring in my house."

I said nothing. I did not wish to provoke him.

"What, little Asenath is mute? Very well. I will say what no one else will: my wife is making eyes at my steward," he said at last.

Now that he had broken the seal, I dared to meet his words with my own.

"I could not speak such words aloud, sir," I admitted meekly. "It was not my place to say such things. And I did not want to dishonor your wife."

"Shame my wife?" Potiphar demanded. He gazed upon me, a harsh glint in his eye. "And what of my own honor? Am I not the lord of this estate?"

I gulped and added, "Yes, sir."

"You should have informed me, Asenath. I should be first to know if there is deception in my house."

"I am sorry."

My meek apology must have had a small effect on him because he relented with a grunt.

"Well…that is also on my head," he suddenly admitted. "I should have watched my wife closer. But those are damn fine horses I have acquired! Pharaoh himself could have no better. I suppose my own eyes strayed as much as hers."

We sat quietly and watched the surface of the Nile slide across the horizon. Finally, I dared to ask, "Sir, what happens now?"

"Now?" He shrugged. "I have already spoken with Zulekia about the matter. I told her how undignified it was for her to be throwing herself at Joseph. He's still a child—barely a man. And do you know what she told me?"

I waited for his answer.

"She said it was undignified for me to have raised Joseph to his station as my steward. Imagine that!" Potiphar stated heatedly. "Why, his efforts have filled her jewelry box as much as our granaries and accounting houses. She wants to suck him for everything he's got."

I watched Potiphar lift the jug to his lips and take a careful sip of beer. "Zulekia's a beautiful woman, isn't she?"

"Yes."

"And boys such as Joseph are wild colts. They have little control over their emotions and are overrun with desire."

Only now did I feel the urge to stand up to my guardian. "Sir, I do not think Joseph is like most boys."

He gave me a weary grin. "You are observant, Asenath," he said. "But still, you are an innocent girl. You know little of the ways of boys and men. I know their ways. Joseph may be a special man but at the end of the day, he is a man with a man's desires."

I was sure my innards would shrivel up from hearing these words.

"But you need not worry yourself about this matter any longer," Potiphar went on. "Zulekia and I have quarreled, but she knows it is my hand that reigns over the estate. If she wishes to continue living with luxuries and comforts, she must forfeit her current obsession. She seemed remorseful the last time I spoke to her. I think she has learned to curb herself."

This was of some relief to me. "What of Joseph?"

Potiphar's shoulders rose in a shrug. "I could sell him to the highest bidder and collect a fine profit. But as you said, he is not like others. I wouldn't find one like Joseph among a thousand slaves. I am reluctant to let him go so he will continue his business as usual."

"And your hand will continue to reign over the estate," I repeated.

"Yes," said Potiphar. He reached over and lightly patted my arm. It was so rare for him to show affection for me that I took it as a sign that I still held favor in his eyes. It gave me enough hope to give him a small warm smile. In my heart, I still I hoped that someday he would accept me as his daughter with open arms so long as I also continued to show him the proper respect he deserved.

"Now, let us return to the house for supper," he announced, rising to his feet. "And make certain that you get plenty of sleep at night, Asenath. You will want to be refreshed and blooming when the river festival begins."

A-A-A

"No man of the household staff was in the house..."

-Genesis, Chapter 39 verse 11

A-A-A

The river festival, known as the Day of the Opet Festival, was bright and clear when I opened my eyes that morning. I had made sure to sleep well as my guardian instructed but even so, there was an unpleasant metallic taste in my mouth when I woke up. My temples hurt slightly as though I had a headache.

Nevertheless, the omen outside my window was a good one. It was an empty blue sky, clear and eternal to mirror our hopes and dreams. Surely the gods would smile upon us this day.

During the Opet Festival, a statue of Amun-Ra would be fitting into an ornate skiff and sent up and down the river. Everyone would go and pay homage to him in the hopes of a good flood ahead.

As soon as Weret had braided my hair, I was free to enjoy the festival on my own terms. This suited me well. I did not wish to ride a horse like Potiphar or be forced to stand in a procession like Zulekia and her maids. Instead, I skipped down the steps from the estate to the Nile where a procession was already taking place.

A glorious horse with gleaming chestnut hair and heavy muscled legs was carrying Potiphar. All around him, slaves were carrying banners and holding up bowls of flowers. He truly looked magnificent in new linen robes and a red woven mantle pinned to his shoulders with two gold brooches. I thought it was a pit that Pharaoh was not there to see his best steward in noble regalia; our king would truly be pleased with the results.

A tray of fried honey cakes was passed around and I took two of them in my hands, ignoring any remarks about my greed and devouring them with surprising speed. It was unlike me to still be hungry as I had just had my breakfast not long ago, but the aftertaste of honey managed to stilt the bitter tang in my mouth.

I skipped further up the procession and found a good place upon a low wall to sit. Several women with drums and flutes were playing their music following by two dozen who twirled in elegant formation. Right behind them was Ahti, clad in a green-striped dress and sporting a new wig with a matching green band around her head. Clearly, she had become Zulekia's favorite.

But where was Zulekia? I knew better than to expect her to stand near a horse. She'd never let the smell of the animal stain her scent. More likely she was in one of the litters being carried across the road by slaves. Two of them had already gone by, the riders inside protected from the heat and flies thanks to curtains around their litters.

I slid off the wall and moved behind a tree to avoid being noticed by Ahti. she may have had a tongue as sharp as a spear, but her voice was sweet as a date as she sang aloud a love-song:

"I am your first beloved; I belong to you like a field

Which I have caused to flourish with flowers and every sweet plant…

My heart swiftly flies as I remember my love for you.

It does not allow me to normally walk, but jumps from its place…"

The pain in my temples was getting stronger now, as though someone was pressing metal plates against either side of my head. I backed away from the tree and now moved to rest in the bushes, waiting for it to pass. But the music around me grew louder and as drums were banged aloud, the same terrible banging was vibrating in my head. I felt the sudden urge to relieve myself and knew this was the time to make an exit.

Breaking off from the parade, I dashed away from the direction of the people and went on a diagonal path to a damp patch of earth that was high with overgrown reeds. Once concealed within the reeds, I gathered my hem around my knees and squatted down to do the deed. My shoulders slumped in relief until I realized something was wrong: a thin stream of blood had escaped from between my legs. I squealed and nearly fell back in alarm.

For a moment, I was sure the gods had struck me down with a rare curse—until I remembered what Weret had told me about monthly courses.

After praying for weeks on end, Neith had chosen to accept my pleas. I was a woman at last. But the inconvenience of it all made me irritated instead of grateful.

Neith, you have picked a most unfortunate time for this to happen! I fumed inwardly. There was no chance of me rejoining the festival's procession now in this embarrassing state. There was little I could do but return to the house with haste. I tore off a narrow strip of linen off my tunic and shoved it between my thighs to stop the bleeding.

The fields of barley were half-high, and I'd have to trample through the thickest part to get back to the house the fastest route. At least a path had been cut around the edge of the field, so I was able to get through it sooner than expected. But the front door was sealed shut, no doubt to keep intruders out. In frustration, I almost banged against the door, only to realize no one could hear me.

Joseph would be in his little room on the top floor. I had asked him days ago if he would join us and he respectfully declined. He said he could complete more accounts if the house was empty. At the time, I thought he was giving an excuse not to worship Amun-Ra.

He was nothing if not consistent in service to his God.

Coming to my present thoughts, I could have shouted until he heard me. But I did not want him to see me in such a disgrace. I would have to find another entrance.

I groaned and limped around the house to the back entrance. Two tiny drops of blood fell behind me; I realized I could not proceed throughout the house this way. I had to get something to stop the bleeding right away. Fortunately, the next two rooms were the central storage ones. I slipped into the smaller one and breathed out in relief to find baskets headed high with jars of oil, pots of herbs, and fresh linen. I removed the linen that had currently been soaking up my blood, threw it into a clay pot, and covered it with a lid. At least my shame was concealed for now.

As soon as I applied a fresh linen to my body, I could fully be aware of the odd sensation of blood slowly seeping out of me. It is no small thing to feel the life-force draining out of your body, disturbing and wonderous all at once. But the life-force must be replaced with other things, hence my need for more food and rest.

One of the pots held some dried grapes and another was stuffed with olives. I took a handful of each of them and after munching through them, curled up between two of the biggest jars in the room and closed my eyes. It was peaceful in the cool dark room, so quiet and soothing without hearing any other sounds around me.

As my limbs and eyes grew heavy, my head felt lighter than ever. I was floating along, bobbing like a boat along the Nile, or streaming through the sky as free as a bird…

How long I slept I did not know. It was the sound of someone speaking that woke me up. I would have jumped up in haste if it was any other voice but Zulekia's—and hers cautioned me not to make a sudden move. I lay in place and then, as slowly as possible, moved myself into an upward position. My sandals had been discarded; bare feet would barely make a sound on the floor.

The storage room had grown darker but there was enough light coming through a crack in the wall. If I got to a standing position and just inched myself onto my toes, I could put my face to the crack and see into the other room.

I could do more than see. I could also take in the scent of Zulekia's incense, the same one she had shown me after her excursion. The next room over was saturated with so much of it that I could feel it overwhelming my nostrils even through the crack. It made my belly tremble and the soft place between my legs ache. Now it was burning like a bonfire from Zulekia's hand.

Her gown barely covered her figure; the linen was so flimsy I could see every limb of her body, even the curve of her spine and the backs of her legs. It was undignified, I know, but I could not tear my eyes away from her—or from Joseph.

He was standing with his back to the wall and could not draw near the door without having Zulekia block him. Oh, she had been clever this time. She had bid her time and waited until no one, not even her prattling maids, could violate her privacy.

"You need not fear me, Joseph." Her voice was the gentle coo of a dove. "I have only treated you harshly before others to hide my love for you. But there is no need to hide it any longer."

He looked so uncomfortable that he might twisted himself out of his skin. "My lady," Joseph said hoarsely. "I beg of you to show mercy upon me. I am but a youth, an outsider. A foreigner with kin or family in this land…"

"But ah, you are mistaken!" she declared. "You do have a friend, Joseph. I can provide you with everything you require to make Egypt your everlasting home."

She took a step closer to him. He did not move but starred transfixed at her as a helpless man must be caught near a venomous snake.

"I will give you ten talents of gold for one night of pleasure," she murmured silkily. "That is far more than my husband could ever give you."

Joseph remained mute but even from my hiding place, I could see his lips were trembling.

"Do you not know what a remarkable man you are?" Zulekia went on. "You write as well as any scribe, master a field better than any farmer. Your speech is dignified as a prince. I daresay none of Pharoah's courtiers are half as handsome and charming you are. Truly, the gods formed you to be superior to all other men."

I clamped my hands over my mouth to resist a squeak. My organs quivered to hear Zulekia speak so intimately aloud.

"I am only what my God made me to be," he mumbled. "And I am nothing special; only my father's son."

"He must be fortunate to have such a fine son," she purred. "As you will be fortunate to have glorious sons of your own someday."

Here his eyes jerked aside, startled by her words. Zulekia let out an airy laugh. "Why so astonished? Do you think I just make the child prattle away lessons for my own amusement? I also study the ways of our gods for my own purposes. I have read the Book of the Sky and studied the stars. They tell me all that is meant to be in your upcoming path."

"What do you mean?"

"I speak of your fate, Joseph. The stars have divined it for me," said Zulekia tenderly. "Anubis is the god of the afterlife, and he has summoned you through his message to me. He has told me what will become of you. Your name will be immortal, and your offspring will derive from this house."

To be called "the child" by her made bile rise up in my mouth. To hear Zulekia speak of astrology only to read Joseph's fate sent a finger of fire up my spine. I balled my fists up to contain myself.

A sliver of anger entered Joseph's tone as he protested, "My fate is in the hands of my God—not your stars or statues!"

"Are you sure of that?" Zulekia cautioned him. She shoved a handful of powder into the fire pit and the scent of incense rose up around them.

Joseph's head swayed as though saturated from wine. I saw his eyes were heavy-lidded; even the Semite could not resist the magic of this incense. He released a sigh and the muscles in his face relaxed as though walking into sleep.

Zulekia drew herself even closer to him. I watched her hand reach for his face, and he did not resist. Her palm rested upon his cheek, her thumb touching his mouth, drawing over his lips. His lids closed for a moment; a strained groan caught in his throat.

She had sculpted him for her pleasure and would now reap her rewards. "Your fate is your own. Your desires are yours to take," she murmured. "You desire me, do you not?"

A spasm went over me. I clamped my hands over my mouth to contain every muscle in my body.

Joseph's hands curled up by his sides. "I do." The words seemed to pierce his skin; he was in agony.

"Then you know what we must do."

She lifted her head proudly to him and in the span of one heartbeat, put her lips to his mouth. His entire body went rigid and then his hands rose and clamped tightly around her arms.

All thoughts of my guardian were nothing. I could not breath for the sight of such beauty before me rendered me helpless. The silvery glow of Zulekia's garments had brushed against the burnished sun of Joseph's hair, grazing his bronzed chest. They had taken the forms of the god of earth and goddess of the sky and beneath the everlasting gaze of Ra, were meant to remake the world in their order.

But then as swiftly as the two of them had become one, Joseph's eyes opened and he pushed Zulekia away from himself, as though disgusted with her presence. He shook his head and his eyes had lost their clouded expression.

"I cannot!" his voice cried out in agony. "I cannot sin before my Maker; I dare not betray my master. Oh God, have mercy on me!"

"Feh! You pray to wind and empty spirits, Joseph!" Zulekia snapped. She let out a thin mocking laugh. "Who else sees us now? Can a god feel you? Touch you as I do?"

She reached for him, but he darted away, circling a table to avoid her touch again. Zulekia attempted to lunge for him, but Joseph veered himself yet again, unaware that she had attempted to back him into a corner.

"My lady, I implore you! Have mercy upon me, a humble slave who serves your husband!"

"Ha!" she sneered. Zulekia had lost the sweet seductive tone of before and hardened her voice at once.

"Some slave. You and I both know my husband saw something special in you the day he purchased you. I'll warrant noble blood flows through your veins. You may be too much of a coward to claim what you desire—but I am not!"

She flung herself at him with outstretched arms and I knew if he came into her embrace again, he would never leave it. Her nails dug into his tunic, but he turned, turned away from her blinding beauty and the headiness of the incense. There was the slashing sound of cloth tearing and Joseph flitted from the room as fast as a bird, half-naked and with the scent of spice clinging to his body.

Zulekia stood in place as a beautiful statute and just as mute, holding his cloak in her hand. Then she smiled and let out a soft chuckle. She walked the length of the room twice, still clutching Joseph's tunic in her hand even as she drained a large goblet. This she put down before wiping her lips and then sighing aloud.

Then she lifted her gaze upwards and released a shriek that pierced my heart.

I felt another wave of heavy nausea roll over me just before my legs gave way. The soft space in my head from the old wound was throbbing again as the blood continued to flood my veins and thoughts. I sank back into the floor where the darkness and blood claimed me.

A-A-A

"Asenath! Oh, Asenath!"

Weret was hovering over me and shaking me hard by the arm. I groaned and tried to push her hand away. I wanted to stay asleep in the storage room for all of my days but her rattling voice drew me further away from the world of dreams.

"For shame! I have been calling your name all afternoon and thought you might have fallen into the river," she exclaimed. "Augh, your disappearances will cause the rest of my hair to fall out!"

She relentlessly pulled me to my feet. "Are you all right?" Before I could answer, she noticed the fresh red stain upon my skirt and gurgled aloud.

"Praise the gods. You are a woman at last!" cried Weret. " Alas, that you are blessed at such a cursed time!"

"Why? What has happened?"

Weret informed me of all that happened as she led me by the hand up to my room. Towards the end of the celebration, several servants had returned to the estate to prepare the evening meal. They had begun their work when they heard Zulekia screaming for help. They had tried to calm her, but she had collapsed onto a couch and was taken with a fit of hysterics for several hours until everyone was available to wait upon her hand and foot.

Back in my room, my nurse stripped me down and washed off my sticky limbs with a rag soaked in water. Then she helped me to dress and provided me with fresh linen for my bleeding, which she assured me would cease in a few days. The headaches and bitterness in my mouth would leave me too, until the next blood moon rose for me.

Dressed in a fresh tunic and skirt, I was told to come to Zulekia's chamber. I could feel my stomach churning with fret as my feet approached her door. Had I dreamed up everything that she and Joseph had done? Or had my eyes witnessed the truth?

I saw Zulekia thrust across her couch with Ahti and her maids all around her, petting her head and trying to comfort her. Her eyes were swollen from weeping and the kohl had smudged across her temples.

"Asenath! Oh, my sweet precious girl!" she called to me. She extended her arms to me, but I was skeptic of her gesture. She had never shown this tenderness to me before. But I had to go so I walked forward and allowed myself to be smothered in her embrace. I would rather have leaned into a thorn bush.

"What has occurred?" I heard myself ask automatically.

"It is fortunate you did not know, only so that you could be spared the shame I have suffered," sobbed Zulekia. She stopped caressing my head long enough to touch her trembling mouth.

"It was that Semite slave, may his name be cursed," she fumed. "I realize now that his mannerisms were nothing but a façade. He wormed his way into this house just to amuse himself."

"Did he?"

"He did! Why, I was resting here peacefully all by myself, and he dared to take advantage of my loneliness."

Ahti offered Zulekia a cup of beer. "My lady, do not speak if it distresses you," she soothed her.

"I must. I must find the strength for my husband's sake," she announced. Zulekia had become the gallant martyr as she drained her cup of beer in three long gulps before continuing.

"I had been sleeping here in the middle of the day until I woke up and saw the slave in the doorway. I told him it was improper for us to be alone but he just made sport of me. He laughed in my face and then began to approach me. Slowly, slowly, waiting for the ideal moment for him to strike. He reached towards me with both of his hands and then... then…tried to seduce me!" she cried out. "I was no match for his strength. He would have had his way with me if Pakhet had not given me sufficient force to scream out. But scream I did, and then he fled, leaving his garment behind him."

Weret's voice rose up with the other women in a chorus of protest and lamentation. Brave Zulekia! How courageously she defended her honor in the face of adversity! Surely this wretched man would suffer for daring to place his hands upon her. A year ago, I would have spat in the earth to curse this slave and cheered for Zulekia along with Ahti and the maids.

But much had occurred in the span of twelve months. I had met a man with eyes as bright and eternal as the sky. I had been brought to the brink of death and been carried back by that man. I had heard the resonating words of his God who did not tolerate lies and would not be manipulated or bought for any price. And I had passed over from child to woman in the span of a day. What was muddied before was now clear to me as fresh water washes away the stain upon a garment.

As Zulekia loosened her grip on me and gazed into my face, attempting to be the doting mother, the muscles in my face wrinkled with disgust. And I saw a perilous flicker in her face.

"What, no words of sympathy for me?" she demanded.

If Zulekia was not ill, then she was mad in my eyes. But I put my face right again quickly. "I do, I do," I covered my thoughts hastily. "I am sorry to hear your troubles, great lady. But I am still in shock over what has happened."

"And she has also just become a woman," Weret announced. A collective gasp went up around the room.

"Blessed be Neith who protects all women from harm," said Zulekia. "It is fortunate that it was I, not you, who was home when Joseph attempted to commit his crime. Who knows what treachery he could have used to seduce Asenath?"

"Fortunate," I made myself echo. Then I added, "Where is he now?"

A-A-A

Zulekia finally ceased patting my head and released her grip on me. I was sure I would have smothered in her arms or perished from holding in my thoughts for so long. It was a relief to be dismissed from the room and brought to the kitchens, where Weret gave me a cup of sweet juice squeezed from fruits, a piece of salty cheese, and a handful of nuts. All of these would restore my energy where the blood had taken it, she explained.

I thought I would be hungrier but worry knotted up my stomach. Weret explained that Joseph had been caught by the guards. They had taken him to the empty fields behind the house where he would be under supervision until Potiphar decided his fate.

"The master has just returned home and has the magistrate with him," explained Weret. "We had best stay out of their way until the matter is finished. And the sooner it is completed, the better."

"But Weret," I said slowly. "I still am in shock. I still cannot belief Joseph would do such a thing."

She clucked her tongue at me. "Believe it, Asenath. Oh, I'll admit he looked and worked fine enough while he was here. But now he has tipped the scales against his favor and will be judged by Potiphar in this world—and Osiris in the next."

I gulped. Once Weret let me be alone, I crept quietly as possible towards the room where Potiphar spoke with his most respectable guests. I could not enter because I was not summoned. But I could flatten my back to the wall and listen attentively.

I heard my guardian say, "It is difficult to accept the accusation without sufficient evidence. I swear by Pharaoh's life, the lad has been honest in my house."

"But has he never lifted his eyes to any woman in the house?" inquired a second voice, much heavier than Potiphar.

"They seemed to enjoy his company," said Potiphar slowly. "But Manu informed me the youth in question did not act upon his emotions—whatever they are."

"Take note of this," said the magistrate. I heard the faint scratching sensation of a reed pen upon parchment. A scribe was in the room too.

"Now what about this tale your wife tells about his tunic? Is this the same tunic I hold in my hands?" inquired the magistrate.

"Yes, it is his. I know because he asked permission to have it cut to fit him last week."

"Hmm…now this is interesting. If he had attacked her, the slave would have been approaching towards the lady. Hench she would have fought him off and the front of his tunic would be torn," muttered the magistrate. "But see here, it is torn in the back. Which means someone tried to clasp onto him—"

Whatever leap of hope in my heart died away when a hand clamped on my shoulder. I would have gasped but Ahti leered over me. If I raised my voice, it would have given both of us away. Without a word, she seized me by the wrist and led me swiftly away from the room.

"Do you want to see what has become of your precious Joseph?" she finally goaded me, once we were far enough away. When I said nothing, she announced, "Come, I will show you what has become of that pretty boy."

She relentlessly dragged me up to the second story balcony until we could see out into the fields. The sky was faint purple by now and we could not see too far, but torches outside lit up several figures surrounded a tree.

The one on his knees was Joseph. His hands were clasped around the tree and would not move—they must have been bound together. A second man was bearing down upon his naked back with a whip and two more were standing guard.

There was no need for security; Joseph was cowed and beaten as a wounded dog. I heard the whip whistle though the air and saw Joseph's entire body twitch with pain. A sound I did not know he could make came out of his lips, a high-pitched cry full of agony and pain.

To see him so helpless, so weak, was too much to bear and I turned away. "They can't do this forever," I cried to Ahti. "When will they stop?"

"When the magistrate and Potiphar decide upon his sentence," Ahti answered. Her lips curled up with glee. It sickened me to see her enjoying his humiliation.

"Do you want to know what it is?" she taunted me.

"No!" I blurted out.

Ahti merely clamped her hands around her own throat and let her eyes bulge out so far, they nearly popped out of her head. Then she let out a gurgled gasp of air and let her head slump to one side. I read the charade in a heartbeat: death by hanging.

I screamed and ran as fast as I could away from Ahti, who was still laughing at the entire spectacle around us.

A-A-A

"Shortly after the messenger left, Potiphar's adopted daughter Osnath approached him sheepishly. She was a very young child and the people around her generally paid her no attention, leaving her free to observe events in the mansion without interference."

-Let My Nation Descend, by Yosef Deutsch

A-A-A

Sleep eluded me that night. My limbs were too restless, and my mind would not quiet down. I could shut my eyes but not drown out Zulekia's wailing and the whistling sound of a whip in the air. I could not erase Ahti's widened eyes of a dead man or Joseph's subdued beaten limbs. All of the sights and sensations of the last few hours continued to provoke my mind, goading me into doing something, anything, if only to make it all stop.

I had only just become a woman. Perhaps that tiny step forward into adulthood would lend credence to my words.

I slid out of my bed and took a lamp in one hand and my wooden doll in the other. I still had no need for a toy but giving my hand something to grip would give me strength. With tiny careful steps, I made my way through the household. Sleep had descended heavily upon the household and thankfully, no one interrupted my trek back towards Potiphar's room.

I did not know at the time if it was destiny, Neith's paved path, or Joseph's invisible God who had arranged it so that Potiphar was still awake at that hour. But now I know it was the latter who had orchestrated everything so that we could converse without being interrupted.

He was sitting in a chair, his head slumped forward into his cupped palms. In my eyes, he was a man mourning. I almost turned around to give up my mission but an inner light within me glowed strongly enough to have me clear my throat and be heard.

Potiphar lifted his head up to see me. He appeared to have aged five years in the span of a day.

"Asenath," he said at last. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I could not sleep," I answered, making sure to keep my voice down. "May I enter?"

Potiphar sighed wearily. "You may. You and your lamp are welcomed here, though I doubt either of you can shed much light upon my countenance."

This gave me sufficient encouragement to approach him. I placed the lamp upon a table next to his chair and held my doll in both hands. "If the gods blessed me with any illumination, I give it willingly to you," I admitted frankly.

He did not smile, yet the expression of frustration in his face stilled. "Thank you, Asenath. You are a good girl."

My fingers curled around the wooden limbs of my doll as I mustered to speak further.

"What will happen to Joseph?" I finally asked.

Potiphar rose from his chair and walked the length of the room. "I have spoken to Zulekia, the servants, and the magistrate. It does not matter that he is a slave and an outsider. What matters is that the odds are against him. Without sufficient evidence in his favor, there can be only one fate for him."

He clasped his hands behind his back and fixed his eyes upon me.

"Joseph has been accused of rape, Asenath. He must die."

My hand clamped over my mouth. No! I could not imagine the life snuffed out of his bright blue eyes. How would his God permit such a loyal man to go to his grave as a young man? How could I bear it, after all he had done?

"Zulekia…" I began to say.

"Is my wife," Potiphar reminded me. "Be careful of making accusations, Asenath."

I licked my lips and said in a meek voice, "You once told me that if there is deception in your house, I-I should inform you."

"What? What has happened?" He demanded.

I saw my words were in haste. "Nothing, nothing," I stammered. But it was a lie, the first blatant I had tried to deliver. And I failed it. Potiphar saw through me, and rage filled his face.

"Enough!" He slammed a hand against the table. "I will not be made a fool in my own household! Speak!"

Terrified by his harshness, I could go on no more and I burst into tears.

"Stop that!" he snapped. "Speak or I will beat you with Manu's staff!"

That shut me up. "I, I-I came back here early," I sobbed.

"What, with Weret and the others as the procession ended?"

"No, even earlier. Around midday."

"What for?"

"Sir, I beg of you. My shame will bring me no lower."

"You should fear my temper more than your shame, Asenath." His tone darkened. "Tell me all."

Reluctantly, I struggled with my narrative. "M-my monthly course began—"

"-I know," he cut in impatiently. "Weret told me she found you in that condition after the festival."

"N-no," I protested. My skin would have burst into flames with embarrassment, but truth would not die upon my tongue. "It started during the middle of the festival, just as the boats were crossing the river. I couldn't find Weret, so I ran back to the house to stop the bleeding by myself."

"Did no one know you where there?"

I told him that no, the doors were sealed, and I wanted to be discreet.

"So, you went into the storeroom." I nodded. Potiphar picked up the lamp I had carried in and commanded me to show him where I went. I had to obey him. I told him which storeroom it was, and I followed him through the house and into the place where I had bled, spied, and slept.

Potiphar lifted his lamp higher still so that he could see all the contents of the room. "This is where you saw everything?"

I confirmed it for him by pointing to the crack in the wall. He had to bend down halfway to put his eye to it, but he observed it would be easier for a girl such as myself to see everything.

"Do you have proof that you were here for that reason? Only because of your bleeding?"

With a shaking finger, I pointed to a pot in the corner. Potiphar lifted the lid and examined the contents inside. The linen was now a stained rusted brown, dried with blood. If he was sickened by the sight of the evidence, he revealed nothing. He merely replaced the lid.

"Now tell me everything, Asenath. Tell me what you saw."

May Neith strike me down if I speak wrongly, I thought. Aloud I said, "I saw Zulekia approach Joseph."

"Not the other way around?"

"No. She kept moving towards him," I confirmed. "He kept moving away. He moved around the table, into the corner, and then out the door."

"Did you hear what they were speaking?"

"Yes. Zulekia told Joseph that-that she loved him." The words nearly stumbled over my tongue when I uttered them. "She said she had read his fate and that it was to have a son from this house. When he refused her, she called him a slave and a coward."

"Did he find her repulsive? Did he reject her love?"

"He..he said he desired her," I said slowly to Potiphar. "But Joseph said he could not sin before you, his master, or his God."

"Those were his exact words? That he would not sin against me or his God?"

"Yes."

Potiphar ran his fingers over his jawline. "Then what happened?"

The muscles in my back and neck had become tight as iron. "When his back was to the wall, she put her lips to his."

"Just her lips?"

"Just her lips."

"Did Joseph kiss her back? Did he embrace her?"

"No. He was still—for just a moment—then he moved aside. She seized him by his tunic, and it tore as he fled the room."

"She tore the back of his tunic," Potiphar concluded.

"Yes." I added, "I swear by Amun-Ra, all I say is as I saw it with my own eyes."

I watched Potiphar's grim face seem to vanish and appear against the flicker light of the lamp. At that moment I imagined he was Osiris and the scales in his hands would judge Joseph's heart to be true or false.

I waited for Potiphar's verdict and clutched my doll fiercely to my chest. Would he take my words into account? Or had Joseph's destiny already been sealed with my guardian's ring? Was I too late? Too early?!

My ears buzzed as I heard frogs croaking noisily in the river and the insects making shrilling calls in the reeds.

"Go to bed, Asenath."

There was a decisiveness in his tone that informed me our conversation had concluded. I could speak no further to him, nor could I disobey his words. I had to leave the storage room and go back to my own room, waiting for sleep to finally claim me.

As he commanded, I followed.

A-A-A

"Teach your tongue to say, 'I do not know' lest you be led to lie." Babylonian Talmud, Beracho 4A

A-A-A

I do not know how I got into bed or how I feel asleep at last. I just know one moment I was seeing Potiphar's face in the dead of night and the next, I was observing the wooden slates that were the ceiling of my bedroom.

I bolted up, dressed quickly, and raced to the second story balcony. The tree was there but there was no slave tied to it—alive or dead. I ran through the house, first starting with the tiny work room at the top and all the way down to the great storage room.

Everything was in order as it should have been: the chairs were placed suitably, the floors had been scrubbed and swept, and the jars of food and drink all arranged neatly in their rows. But something was missing from the house. It was as though a benevolent spirit that had once rested upon everything had departed. Everything still had form and function, but not life or warmth. Even the corners of the room seemed to have shifted into something I could not recognize.

I passed by a room and skidded to a halt to see the back of Zulekia. She was facing a window outside and had not even turned around as I approached the doorway.

"Where is he?" I demanded. She did not answer.

I clutched my throat, as Ahti had once demonstrated.

I ran down the steps, tearing through the garden, out onto the path that extended to the estate. Reeds wove and rippled in the morning wind and the sky was gray above me.

"Joseph!" I hollered in a child's wail. My voice did not go far; the wind swallowed up my words.

I failed him, I thought to myself miserably. My words didn't save him. I have failed my friend.

If my body allowed me, I would have shed an ocean of tears for his sake. But despair had consumed everything up within me. Grief stifled my sobbing and dried my eyes. All I could do was clasp my arms to my sides and let my little body go rigid with anger and sorrow until I could bear no more.

"Joseph! Joseph!" I continued to wail. I called his name over and over again until my parched throat would give no more. Only then, when my last cry left my lips, did I fall back upon the earth and let out a single dry sob of defeat.

The wind alone mourned for him.

A-A-A

I thought the estate would collapse in a week without Joseph and his blessings. But strangely enough, everything continued as prosperous as before. The fields were gathered in adequately, the wine flowed smoothly, and the garden never looked more beautiful than ever.

No one dared speak his name. It was as though his presence had all but faded from our memories. He had had little if any impact on our lives and his absence was of no loss to anyone. If Potiphar regretted anything, he did not show it.

But I did remember him. I would lie awake at night and repeat the stories Joseph had told me, if only to confirm he had been real and not a mere illusion conjured up out of my wishes.

My lessons with Zulekia were terminated quickly. I was instructed not to approach her unless summoned, and she barely summoned me ever. She was still civil whenever Potiphar was present, but her smile had grown cold to me. I shuddered with loathing whenever I saw her face and preferred to seek refuge in my room or in a groove of reeds so far down the river that no one in the house could find me.

She gave me no lapis lazuli beads. She ceased to instruct me about the gods or have me tutored in writing. When my body began to blossom and Weret noticed my tunics were getting tight around my hips and chests, she asked Zulekia that I be granted a new outfit to wear. A cast-off from one of her maids was thrust into my room. It was too tight in the arms and hurt my chest, but I had to wear it because nothing else would suffice.

The day came when Weret was dismissed, because Zulekia had sent word that I no longer needed a nurse. Weret kissed me on both cheeks and we both shed tears on the day she departed. She reminded me to pray well, respect the gods, and follow the instructions of my household.

"And someday, I know that you will be great lady," Weret assured me. That only made me cry harder until she had to leave the house. I was told she would be reunited with her aging brother in the Northern Kingdom to live out the rest of her days. For all of our disagreements, it was her hand that had raised me, and I felt a swell of pained affection for Weret when she left the estate.

With my nurse gone, I found my days to be long and hollow. Sometimes I would wander outside, stand in silence, and then wander back in with an empty heart. Things never changed for the better, only for the worse, as an invisible brace was being tightened around my neck.

For two years this dismal situation continued until the day Potiphar summoned for me. Any good news I had anticipation was burned out when I saw Zulekia sitting beside her husband and wearing a too-bright smile. Clearly this was not a good sign.

I shuffled my feet and felt shabbier than ever in the cast-off dress.

"My wife and I have discussed your upbringing," Potiphar said calmly. "You have learned all you can here. It is time for you to take the next step forward in your life as a young woman."

My heart fluttered faintly with fear and hope. Perhaps he would say I was betrothed. I was only fourteen but the thought of getting away from Zulekia permanently was a relief. At least if I had a husband, I could be under his protection instead of her beady gaze.

But Potiphar continued to speak. "My cousin is the high priest of On. He has written to me asking for assistance in the service of his temple. I am sending you there to be instructed in the ways of serving Amun-Ra."

The fluttering in my chest stopped. I did not know if this news was better or worse. Perhaps I was only trading one problem for another.

But Zulekia's eyes blazed with delight. She clapped her hands together and gave me a beaming smile, showing me all of her teeth in her red luscious mouth.

"Is this not wonderful news, Asenath? What a privilege for you to become a priestess at fourteen!" she exclaimed. "How fortunate you are to have such a noble patron!"

My organs remained still as lumps of clay. I swallowed and spoke in a low dull voice, "How long will I remain there, sir?"

There was a deathly pause before Potiphar answered my question. "As long as the span of your life. Starting tomorrow, the high priest of On will be your new guardian in place of myself."

This time his answer struck me in the chest with the force of a staff. I had to seize the edge of a chair to prevent fainting before them. So Zulekia had not only manipulated her husband to have me removed from my home, but from the only family I had ever known.

All this time Potiphar remained impassive as ever while Zulekia continued to look as pleased as though she had been showered with gold.

And I? All I could do was nod my head and murmur my thanks to my former guardians.

A-A-A

A formal meal had been prepared but I could eat little that night. The bread seemed to choke the life out of me, and the beer was sour on my tongue.

"I am sure you will inform Potiphar's cousin of how well you were treated under our roof," Zulekia lectured me. "His prayers sit at the feet of the gods and will require your gratitude to reach their ears."

Trying to calm my vibrating heart, I ask awkwardly, "What sort of work will I do?"

"Routine work as one does in a temple," Potiphar cut in. "I am sure my cousin will instruct you properly."

It could have been my imagination, but I hoped that glimmer in the corner of his eye was one of sympathy towards me. But he added, "If you do this task well, I am sure you will be rewarded for your efforts. People admire and respect priestesses."

"And they receive some sorts of trinkets," Zulekia cut in.

It was then I noticed the depths of her cleverness. By handing me over to an outsider, Zulekia would not have to provide a dowry for me. She would get me out of her house free of charge.

I could bear no more and asked my guardians to let me retire early so that I could prepare for my journey to On tomorrow.

"Go in peace, Asenath," said Potiphar. Zulekia echoed his sentiments.

There was not much for me to pack. Everything, from my chests and toys and chair, all belonged to Potiphar. It would be a wonder if Zulekia let me wear the dress tomorrow instead of making me go naked to my future.

A rap on the door got my attention. Zulekia was standing there with one of her maids. She told the girl to go and then shut the door behind her. She crossed the room to me in three long strides.

At least I could try to be civil this last night. I began to speak. "My lady, I—"

The palm of her hand rushed down and struck me across the face as a speeding falcon. This time I did collapse to the floor, my head still reeling from the blow as the fresh sharp pain swelled to the surface of my cheek.

"Get up," she snarled. When I didn't rise, she wrenched me by the wrist and then shoved me onto the bed. She began pulling up the hem of my dress and when I tried to stop her, she pressed my head back down with her elbow.

"Not a word," her voice hissed into my ear. "Or I will beat you harder than ever."

I felt the snap of a reed switch hit my bare backside. The first blow was so fast I didn't have time to feel it. But then her arm grew stronger and stronger, the thrashing grew quicker until I couldn't sense when the switch hit my skin or when the muscles were stinging with pain. A frenzy had possessed her as she continued her blows down upon me. There was only the whip whip whip motion of the switch slicing through the air.

I whimpered in pain and had to bite down on my tongue to stop from screaming. My fists clenched up into the blankets and I must have bitten my lip because blood was filling up my mouth.

When she stopped, I had hoped it was the end, but then Zulekia seized my head between both of her hands. I thought she would bash my head into the wall but instead she sneered into my ear.

"Do you think me a joke, you little worm?" Zulekia snarled. "Did you believe you could dishonor and disgrace your own lady and not be punished?" I said nothing. She rattled my head further. "Did you!?" she nearly shrieked.

"N-n-no…"

She released my head, only to resume the beating. I know not for how long it lasted, only that all my prayers to Neith went unanswered. Perhaps she was angry at me too. My eyes twirled in the back of my head, and I wished for death to take me, if only to end my shame and anguish.

Soon I could feel welts on my skin and knew my backside must be bleeding. Zulekia must have gotten tired because she suddenly stopped. Then she rose and took the staff with her. She breathed deeply and her face smoothed out. The demoness had gone underground and was replaced with the mask of the lady of the house. She peered down at me with a final look of disgust.

"Never show your face at this estate again or you will die."

Zulekia stepped out of the room and slammed the door behind her. I was left to bite my blankets, to bleed through my lips and backside, and wish for death above all things.

A-A-A

The day of my departure was like any other. Ra made the sun rise in the sky. The birds of Horus flew low over the river. Shu blew fresh air over the barley but none of his peace graced my countenance.

I managed to limp my way to the front door where some of the servants were waiting. Manu looked forlorn but said nothing. Another servant, one of the kitchen hands, had red eyes as she gazed at me. That was of some comfort to me, knowing at least one person had wept for me and would miss me. But she dared not embrace me or say farewell when Zulekia was watching.

There was no chariot or litter to bear me away. There was only a donkey cart filled with straw standing at the gate of the house. The driver was some humble slave performing a task for his master; he had the same bland look in his eye as the donkey who would be pulling the load. I was to ride in the back with the rest of the straw.

Zulekia had seen to every bit of my shame. She would make sure that everyone in the estate would bear witness to my disgrace that morning. I glanced over my shoulder and saw her watching from the window. Her face betrayed no emotion.

An undercurrent of hatred swept through my blood. I wanted to gather up a ball of mud and throw it at her window. I could spit in the courtyard to show my disdain for her or do worse by cursing her in the name of Bast. May her sweet perfume grow rotted with stench, her breasts wither up, and her teeth rot in her mouth, I thought.

A memory of Joseph's calm eyes and steady voice ran though me, cooling the thoughts in my head. No, I would not allow Zulekia any further victories over me. I must bear this ordeal as well as I could.

I lifted my chin high, focused my eyes forward, and walked calmly across the courtyard as though I was paying a visit to Pharaoh himself. I climbed into the back of the donkey cart. But I could not sit well because of the pain from last night. I had to rearrange the skirts of my dress around me and fold my legs to one side to decrease the pain.

I knew the kitchen shelves were overflowing with provisions and the servants could have easily fixed me a generous basket of food for my journey. But all I found in the straw was a hunk of dry bread and flask of water. There was no doubt in my mind as to who had seen to that final detail.

It did not matter. I was neither hungry nor thirsty. My body was saturated with bile and vinegar. Until now, I thought the fatal day of Joseph's demise had been the most terrible day in my young life. But this day was worse. It was engraved upon my heart with an iron quill.

The driver of the wagon gave his whip a flick and the donkey cart began to roll down the road, away from the house. All of my limbs bounced and joggled from the impact. I dared not look back when we came to a bend in the road. I kept my eyes focused on the sun that kept darting in and out from between the clouds.

The sound of a horse's hooves against the earth broke into my thoughts. Swiftly as the wind, I saw a flash of white on a flash of brown; Potiphar's horse was running past the donkey cart. In the span of a single breath, he was gone down the lane and out of my sight. But something small and brown flew across the air and landed in the back of the cart. It hit my thigh and stayed there like a fallen stone.

It was a small leather drawstring pouch. I opened it up and found my amulet along with a heavy silver ring. Engraved upon the flat surface were two falcons facing each other, divided by a staff and a basket.

My heart could wither no further until now. The master of the home has become as weak as his slaves, I thought miserably. What good can his seal do me now?

I could have just let it slip from my fingers and rest upon the dirty road. Or hurled it towards Potiphar's path while spitting out every insult I could summon up from within my childish soul.

Silver eyes

I felt my anger halt abruptly, then gradually began to recede. A hand that was not mine had entered into my soul, taming my temper and guiding my fingers until it put the ring back into the pouch.

A-A-A

Note: The song Ahti sings is from "24 hours in Ancient Egypt" by Donald P. Ryan