CHAPTER 3
AN: sorry for the delay school just started but I will try to post a chapter every Wednesday, thanks for reading, rates and reviews also welcomed.
Lady Zulika sat next to her niece and some of the other ladies of the court.
"Joseph," Kuy called as he spotted Joseph in the stable talking to Nessor. Joseph didn't want to talk to Kuy right now; he knew what he was going to say. The same thing that he had been ordered to say, "Lady Zulika has called for you."
"Somehow I knew that he'd say that," Joseph said turning from the stallion.
"Egyptian, Joseph."
"I didn't say anything," Joseph assured his friend as he switched to Egyptian and left.
He entered the dining hall and started serving Zulika and her guests. As soon as he entered, a hush fell over the crowd before the women started whispering to each other, "he is no mortal man but an angel."
"Or a god," another woman added.
Only Asaneth remained silent, staring at his crystal blue eyes, they were so sad, yet somehow strangely wise. She could see the torment in his Horus eyes. Within those eyes, she saw the sorrow and betrayal that she saw the first time she had seen him, but the rage within him had dissipated over the last year.
"Am I now free to go, Malika," he asked. Asaneth could tell he disliked to have to ask and noticed that he somehow was more comfortable talking to Potiphar.
"What say you ladies, shall we let him go?"
"Aunt Zulika, it would be a crime to mar his perfection. Lord Potiphar has ordered him to feed the horses, I was wondering if I might go and see the horses as well."
Joseph led Asaneth to the stables, "hey boy," he said in Aramaic as Nessor danced in his stall, "miss me, did ya?" the stallion whinnied in response.
"What did you say?" Asaneth asked softly as she walked towards the chestnut stallion, who pawed the ground at her intrusion.
"Easy boy, calm yourself." He said before switching to Egyptian, "nothing really, I always speak to him in my native tongue. Don't worry, I won't say anything bad about you, I promise," he said as he continued to pet the horse.
Joseph walked with his master as well as Lady Asaneth, she was beautiful, he turned away knowing that he had no right to even look upon her. "Joseph" he heard Potiphar call.
"Malik," he sad as he knelt in front of his master.
"Lady Asaneth wishes to visit the temple of Neth you will accompany her," Potiphar ordered, ignoring the protests of Racmera and others who wondered if it was a wise idea to leave a male slave in the company of a noblewoman or if the slave would even return.
"Malik," Joseph said cautiously, he could not disobey his master but neither could he enter a pagan temple.
Sensing Joseph inner turmoil, he added, "do not enter, wait outside."
"Yes, Malik."
Joseph had subconsciously slipped back to the level of servitude that he held when he had first excepted his fate. Asaneth watched him as he sat alone, aloof from even the other servants and slaves. Last night one of his old injuries had reopened and started bleeding, but he did nothing to try to stop the blood. "Your bleeding," Asaneth said as she looked at him.
He looked down at his arm and said in a voice that betrayed no emotion, "Yeah, I suppose I am. It'll stop."
"Did it hurt when it happened?" she asked, assuming that it was a battle injury. He had to he one of Potiphar's warrior. Despite how she had first seen him, the only explanation for why he trusted Joseph so much. He was not a trusting man and he trusted this man even more than some of his warriors. Still the question remained, how did a warrior that her uncle trust become his slave.
Joseph looked back at his injured shoulder and remembered how he had reserved his wound, back in the pit that his brothers put him in. As he stayed there one of his brothers had decided to pass the time by throwing rocks at him. His shoulder took the brunt of the damage. "No," he lied getting up and moving to stand near the stern of the boat, "it didn't."
"What was he before?" Asaneth asked herself aloud.
"It doesn't matter what I was," Joseph said in an emotionless voice that she was getting used to hearing from him, "only what I am."
"Do you miss your family," Asaneth asked, Joseph turned from her, he had always been able to keep his pain out of his voice but not never his eyes.
"I don't think of them anymore," he said hiding the pain he felt, the bittersweet memory of his brother's birth and mother's death, "they have their lives, I have this."
"It's an honor to be Lord Potiphar's slave," Asaneth said.
"To be a slave to any man is to be this dog," Joseph said letting her hear the pain within him. He shouldn't have spoken so harshly to her, and he knew it. However, if he could not have her, could not love her, he knew that it was best to have nothing to do with her. He couldn't have anything to do with her, he didn't have the strength to be close to her and not have her.
Zulika looked at Joseph as he knelt in front of her. He would do anything for her, merely because, as a slave, he was obliged to, would do anything except the one thing that he wanted him to do.
"You called me, Malika," Joseph asked calling her 'misstress' in his native tongue just as he did Potiphar, half-annoyed that she would call him again simply to look at him.
"Come with me, love," Zulika said as she turned toward the garden, yet Joseph remained. He always remained when he was ever called anything other than his name the only exception to that was when Potiphar called him 'Kontar.'
Kuy had told him that the name meant 'only son' and he may be a slave, but he did his best to live up to the name.
"Joseph!" she called again, "come."
Silently she led him to the garden, the cool breeze pierced him through his thin coat to his chest and arms as he followed Lady Zulika to the stone bench where she sat. As always, he waited until she sat before he knelt on one knee in front of her.
"What do you want from me, Malika?" he asked wanting nothing more than to return to the barn. He had left Gurit alone for far too long today and knew that if the cat was loose while he slept she would make sure that no one disturbed him. No one ever bothered him when the cub was near, after all, he was the only one who could control the cat.
"Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers to?" she countered as she walked behind him and reached around and felt Joseph's biceps.
She felt good, how he wished that she were his fate rather then the one he had, Joseph quickly seized her hand and whispered softly, "Malika, please cease, I beg you not to flaunt that which I can never have."
"And who said it can't be yours?" she asked revealing herself to him, "It's just a little innocent pleasure," Lady Zulika purred.
"Innocent pleasure," Joseph said, his voice trying to hide the rage he now felt. "I have seen the consequences of this 'innocent pleasure'. I have seen an entire city utterly destroyed because of this innocent pleasure. Every man was killed, the children taken as slaves, the women taken as concubines. I have seen a father disinherit his eldest son because of innocent pleasure with his concubine. What do you think a master would do to a slave for having innocent pleasure with his wife?" Joseph asked leaving, without permission, "he would kill me."
It was the first time he had done anything motivated by any hint of self-preservation, but more than that, he would not reduce himself to Rube's level. He knew full well the wrath a man had when defending what was his, and Lady Zulika was his master's. To take that from him would be the worst betrayal that he could think of, he wouldn't do that. Potiphar trusted him with all that he had, Joseph answered to no one at the estate save Potiphar himself, and not even Potiphar exerted any real control over him. To take his wife would to truly take his place. Over the years, out of necessity Joseph had become many things. As the yeas had passed Joseph had fallen deep into the role of slave, he had shut himself off from everything even his own emotions, but if nothing else he was loyal.
Zulika watched as Joseph walked away, as she followed the path that he walked
"Joseph, stop," he could hear his mistress calling, he knew that he should heed her order, but he knew that obeying her was not something that he could not...would not do that to his master. He could feel the tug of Zulika trying to stop him from leaving by taking hold of his coat.
This was is last year in servitude, they would be able to hide the affair for a month before he left. Potiphar would not look for him. He had already offered him his freedom. But... He couldn't... Wouldn't betray his master as his brother had his father.
He continued to walk, he heard the rip of the linen coat he wore, and instinctually he knew that the future that he had hoped and preyed for...a future where he was free had been ripped from him as well.
How much was destined to be ripped from him, his home, his family, the beloved coat that his father had gotten for him, his freedom, now it seemed his life would be taken from him.
