The Dreamer's Wife

by Rose Eclipse

The tale of Asenath and her life's journey with Joseph the Dreamer.

5. Chapter 5

"A righteous man falls down seven times and gets up." -Proverbs: Chapter 24, verse 16

A-A-A

There have been as many pharaohs as there are stars in the night sky. Each holds a tale of might, mayhem, and majesty. Some of their stories concluded with few dramatics while others reveled in glorious triumph. But each of their names was inscribed upon our scrolls and carved into our temples to be revered throughout the dynasties and retold from one generation to another.

The king who ruled over my lifetime had numerous titles, but I knew him as Pharoah Amenhotep.

Amenhotep was the second son of Pharoah Thutmosis the Third. The firstborn had succumbed to a fever and was laid to eternal rest in his crypt at the tender age of nineteen. The entire kingdom's burden was placed upon the second son's young shoulders in his place. During my years in the temple service, Poti-Phera had taught me the great significance of Ahmenhotep's role in our lives. He had been spared the same tragic fate as his brother and so our Pharoah was seen as the living incarnate of Horus, who was the son of Osiris—lord of the dead.

Moreover, he was the avatar of ma'at: the eternal force of cosmic truth and justice in the universe. Without Pharoah, our land would be plunged into eternal darkness and chaos.

If Amenhotep was glad to inherit the crown and divine responsibility in his older brother's stead, he did not express this enthusiasm aloud. He had many responsibilities that kept his days occupied, often stressed to the point of aggravation at times.

It is no small thing to run a country, let alone a kingdom. Without ma'at, Pharoah's people would be ravaged from without by invading armies or collapse from within by riots and rebellions. Not to mention the fear of drought, pestilence, locusts, and dust storms. Local guards and officials were paid to shut down any looming internal strife, lest jealous citizens tear each other apart in the streets. Tributes and taxes flowed into Pharoah's coffers from neighboring countries, but money had to flow out to feed his vast armies. Statues had to be built, granaries managed, markets delegated, and fields ploughed.

No wonder we relied upon our reverent Pharoah, lord and master of the two realms, to lead them properly upon a secure path to our future.

It was said that Amenhotep suffered from insomnia and jaw pain, which made him ill-tempered at times. In these dark moods it took but a word from him to have a man executed. But he could recall a good deed and graciously rewarded those who served him well. He was reputed to be a fine archer and a magnificent horseman; his soldiers said his arrows could pierce through ten copper plates. He was revered by his ministers, worshiped by his priests, and loved by his people.

These were all words I had picked up over the years from the tender age at Potiphar's estate to my blossoming womanhood at Poti-Phera's temple. But what sort of person was Pharoah beneath his golden crown and royal garments? I had yet to draw my own conclusions. Having recently accepted Joseph's tutelage, I no longer envisioned Amenhotep as god but rather, a man of flesh and blood whose body would expire one day just the same of all his subjects. But this man still held my fate in his hands. It would be unwise—even blasphemous—to speak such thoughts aloud in those days. And I had no desire to die so soon when I now had much to live for.

Nevertheless, he was my king and leader. Better to be Pharoah's subject rather than crushed under the heels of invaders and lawless men. I was resolute. I would respect Pharoah and serve him to the best of my abilities.

I would carry and conceal my love for Joseph, just as I would safeguard my budding curiosity to serve his God from beneath my skin. Such is the power of secrets that they warm us from within like a flame flickering from within a deep pot.

A-A-A

It took us nearly six days to get to Thebes.

The boat that I had taken was laden with fresh cedar, which was both an advantage and hindrance to me. This cargo was far better smelling than tar or dried fish, but it had to maneuver more slowly down the Nile. The captain did not want to run the risk of a hasty trip that could splash and warp his precious wood. This he told me after I asked impatiently after two days of traveling how much longer it would take and he answered frankly, but bluntly to me.

"You only have yourself to worry about on this boat," he chided me. "But my fellow sailors and I could all be destitute if the lumber gets wet. You should have gone with a stone-carrying boat if you wished to arrive in Thebes faster."

I winced from his words and felt ashamed of my ignorance in the matter. But I did my best to bow and apologize to him, then stating I would pray on the captain's behalf for the cargo would make him rich and prosperous in a few days. He grunted but at least he did not throw me overboard.

For the rest of the journey, I kept to myself to prevent my tongue from wagging any further. I talked little with the other men on board, but they left me alone in peace. Perhaps they thought my silence was a form of religious piety but inwardly, I had much to glean from my last conversation with Joseph. If I was not pacing the edge of the deck to take in the fresh air, I sat wrapped in my cloak and let the traveling winds fan my cheeks as I remembered our parting words.

"Three rules I was taught in my childhood and three I will give you now," instructed Joseph.

"The first rule is to find a place and purpose for every item you possess. Let nothing be purchased if it will not be put to good use. Spend within your means so that you will not become impoverished. Seek to create order out of chaos and you will lack nothing."

"The second rule is to greet every person with a gracious countenance, be he lord or servant," Joseph continued. "Be mindful of those who are in distress and inquire after their welfare. Even if you cannot relieve their suffering, your presence can comfort their sorrows. Remember their names if you can."

I nodded in agreement. "And the third rule?" I asked him.

"Shoes."

"Shoes?"

Joseph nodded gravely. "Your stomach may hurt from two or three days without food, but you will not die. Ill-treated feet are a liability. I have seen men go about barefoot for too long until their feet blister and their toes fall off."

"I say this not to frighten you, but to advise you," he continued. "Guard your purse but purchase the best shoes you can acquire. Otherwise, your steps may become so painful that you cannot walk at all. Do you understand?

"Spend prudently, speak respectfully to all, and wear good shoes upon my feet," I repeated.

The smile he gave me sealed all three rules into my head for good.

A-A-A

On the morning of the fifth day, one of the men on the boat woke me with a call. "Look, priestess! Ahead is Thebes!"

I rubbed my eyes and was almost blinded by the burnished yellow light that flared off the surfaces of buildings off in the distance. As the boat slowly eased into the harbor, the buildings grew bigger until I could see the different colors and shapes painted upon their walls. I nearly ran to the edge of the boat with excitement, overwhelmed with the endless stretch of gold that glistened in the morning sun. Even the trees and bushes sprouting out of the ground seemed to be bathed in the same fiery yellow aura.

"Is Thebes built out of gold?" I asked in awe.

He laughed at my question. "No, priestess. The buildings are built from the finest limestone hauled from the quarries. It is the sun shining down benevolently upon the city that makes it glitter in the dawn's light."

"Pull, hah! Pull, hah!" four men shouted as the boat slowly began to swerve towards the left and up near the docks. I could see two smaller ships with red sails coming closer, but they had to go into port first or else we could all be on a dangerous collision.

"Look out!" someone shouted. I saw a fat black bubble on the surface of the Nile that was rapidly growing bigger. It did not splash around in the water like a fish. Another bubble rose up and then I saw two ears and gaping jaws appear. A lazy yawn emerged from the creature's mouth.

"Curse those hippos!" snarled the captain. "One encounter could sink us all into the river. Slower, men. Slower!"

I held my breath as the ship began to slow down, barely creeping across the water. None of the other boats rushed ahead either, as all of them were wary of the hippo. This creature did not possess the sharp teeth or desire for human flesh like a crocodile, but the captain warned me that this troublesome water creature could easily plough through a ship with its hefty body.

We all stood there fretfully in the boat as the sun continued ascending higher into the sky. Finally, after much sweat had trickled down our faces, the hippo's slick black body sauntered off to find less noisy fishing grounds.

"Thank the gods," muttered the captain. He drew his hand over his brow and ordered the men to continue bringing the boat into the docks. There must have been at least twenty ships there, each of them preoccupied with taking cargo off or on the decks. Some men were carrying boxes and I wondered if they contained anything as ordinary as grain or precious as incense for Pharaohs. Others were moving furniture or ushering a stream of braying goats along.

I thanked the captain and wished him safe travels in his future. "May Horus watch over you," he bade me. I bowed again and then walked down the plank to solid ground at last.

We had been bobbing up and down in a boat for so long that my legs had become shaky on solid ground. As I took several trepid steps to steady myself again, my eyes took in the wonders around me.

Thebes was roaring as bees do in a hive, humming and working and playing and dancing all at once. Now my eyes could see not only gold, but also crimson, coral and pink, green and turquoise, all colors dark as the dusk and bright as the sky. People were pushing and shoving, haggling, and selling, shouting and laughing all around me. I was caught up in a whirlwind of life as the buildings stretched up before me and the streets carried my footsteps through wonders that unfolded before my eyes. Everywhere there was something to see, something to smell, something to watch.

"Come see the finest musicians of Thebes!" a man shouted, as five pipers and a drummer were dancing upon a mat with the loudest rhythm that vibrated in my ears and thrummed through my blood. Several onlookers were slapping their hands together in time to the music.

An official in a high cap and leather collar was standing upon a rock, talking to a throng of people who stood before him. "And once we clear these dead trees away, the district can install six more berths where the cattle may go," he declared aloud. "We need only sign the petition for the committee to approve of the pact before renovations can be…"

In front of a rickety house, a bare-chested man was cupping a lump of clay and swiftly working it into a jug while nine other finished jugs sat done upon his worktable. He looked hot and tired, though glanced up to give me a look through fatigued eyes before bending back down to his work. I hastily moved on.

A child knocked into my thigh before squealing with glee and then running off down the street, chased by his peers. In a doorway, a boy of five appeared wearing only a loincloth around his waist. A tiny girl, no more than two or three, stood next to him and she was wearing nothing at all. They laughed and waved to me, and I waved back just before a voice inside barked at them to get back inside.

One lane appeared to provide some shade and I thought it would be more comfortable instead of the main road. But after walking several paces forward, I saw at least a dozen slaves cowering on their knees before potential buyers. Their hands were tied behind their backs, wooden slates were hung around their necks, and their heads were bend down in eternal submission.

Despite the daily heat, I shivered and hastily retreated back out into the sunlight.

"Soft wool, good fleece spun this season," called a merchant. He all but thrust a roll of fabric into my face. "For you, charming lady. Would you like to make a fine garment to wear to the next festival?"

I declined, only to have another seller offering me plates of olives and dried grapes. A third tried to tempt me with oils and perfumes and a fourth suggested a piece of jewelry would suit me well.

Shoes! I had to push myself away from all the vendors until I had found a craftsman working under a thatched awning. He had a smudged cloth tied around his scalp to keep the sweat from running into his eyes and his fingernails were black and cracked from working with leather. But the eight finished sandals sitting on his workbench were a testimony to his credit.

I approached him with growing confidence as I requested a strong pair of walking sandals made from leather, not reeds. The shoemaker showed me some of his work but I was quickly distracted by the appearance of these other sandals hanging from a higher hook below the awning. They were adorned with such beautiful designs that my mouth watered with longing. Some were inlaid with gold and silver and others dyed brilliant shades of green or red. There were even shoes with pictures painted upon the soles and I could see the tiny details of people dancing or fish leaping out of a river.

It took all of my strength to avert my eyes away and point to a simple half-finished pair. "Those will suffice," I said, not without a little reluctance.

The shoemaker wagged his eyebrows at me, as though he knew a woman's fancies and how much self-restraint I had to muster, but he did as I requested while I slipped them on.

"They feel too big," I told him frankly.

"I will cut them smaller," he assured me, taking the shoes back. "No one leaves my shop with unsatisfied shoes."

The shoemaker worked quickly. I watched him use a small white stone to make marks line markings upon the surface of the leather and then slashed away the extra pieces with a knife. He used the same knife to puncture holes in the soles of the leather, threaded cords through them, and used his teeth to pull them tight. His fingers worked nimbly as they secured the cords in place, creating straps that would wrap around the tops of my feet.

"Stand up again." I did as I was told. The craftsman showed me how to wedge the cords between my front two toes and then wrap them around my ankles. "Now walk forward and see how your feet respond," said the shoemaker.

When I put my first new step forward, I wondered if this is what Adam felt when he put his first foot upon the newly formed earth. The foundation itself felt secure as I walked forward three more steps, feeling my spine straighten and my shoulders draw back with confidence. I took the exact amount out of my purse that Joseph said would suffice and this was accepted by the shoemaker.

"Come back another time and I will have a pair of green slippers striped with silver made especially for you," the shoemaker promised me.

"When my fortunes improve, I will call upon you again," I assured him. "In the meantime, I will recommend you to anyone who inquires."

"Aye, and so long as you walk with grace and dignity in the shoes that I have made, I will have a good name for myself!" he declared, letting out a peal of laughter.

The shoemaker did not know where the accounting house was, but he suggested I make inquiries at the left gate. I found it guarded by several soldiers, each of them clad in leather armor and wearing a cloth cap upon his head. A few had spears but none of them were holding them erect or standing to attention. Two were drinking beer, another was tearing meat off a bone, and some were throwing dice upon the ground. None of them appeared to have much to do and their idleness was displeasing in my eyes.

"Why do they not straighten up and conduct themselves better?" I thought. "Do they have nothing better to do?"

I did not want to appear too friendly or too informal before these them. Putting on the demurest expression I could manage, I approached them and said, "Peace unto you, soldiers of Pharaoh."

One of them gazed up from playing with his dice and paused before speaking to me, his eyes looking up and down me as though I was a pair of shoes in the shop he might buy. "Peace unto you, oh bright-eyed woman." His companions sniggered aloud, and I flushed, instantly regretting that I had taken this route. I was rendered speechless for a moment, but I took that moment to form a prayer in my head.

"God, if You are the Maker of Heaven and earth who watches over all men, please watch over me and guide me out of this trouble," I thought.

"I am sure Pharaoh is fortunate to have such, ah, attentive guards as yourself," I said. "Surely men of your experience would be able to assist me with directions to—"

"I can assist you well! That is, in bed!" shouted another guard. The rest erupted in laughter, and I sucked in a breath, fighting back the stream of shame that had begun to rise in my veins. It was humiliating to be treated this way now that I was on my own without a single companion or relative to assist me.

I made up my mind that I would turn around go. I gave them a curt nod and walked off, but I could still hear the guards calling out and making offers to me. And then the sound of footsteps crunching upon the dry earth was getting closer. It was the one who had shouted at me before.

"Pretty girl, lovely girl. I am sorry," he bleated over my shoulder. "Let me buy you a cup of beer and we will get to know each other better."

"No, thank you. I am busy," I mumbled, making my footsteps go faster. I felt his hand brush my shoulder and I whirled around to face him. "Did you not hear me? I said I am busy!" I said in a louder voice as my heart thudded fearfully in my chest. Wretched mistake! Why did I walk towards that gate in the first place?

"Let the woman be," someone growled. "Or are you deaf?"

A figure slunk forward, someone I recognized from the gate but had been standing too far back to see properly. This man carried a thick staff in his right hand instead of a spear. Moving towards us, I noticed his gait was lopsided. He would take a step forward with his right foot but his left haltered before joining its partner. Had he been born lame or been injured in a fight? Was he a guard, rather than one of the soldiers?

I could not call it an ugly face, but the newcomer was far from pleasant in appearance. The skin of his face was pockmarked and grooved as a piece of leather that had been trampled upon by horses. His beady black eyes were too close together and he was squinting, revealing heavy lines edged upon his low forehead. His nostrils had the impatient flare of a stallion, and his oversized teeth were parted into a fierce scowl. Altogether, he looked a most pugnacious creature. Zulekia would have thrown him out in an instance.

"Feh, at least I am not ugly as a donkey's backside," sneered the guard.

"And at least I am not a buzzard wasting time instead of tending the gate," the newcomer grumbled at him. "Go back to your post at the gate before I pour more vinegar down your throat."

"Go back to your post, lame sheep!" the guard shot back. But newcomer gave him such a withering look that the guard finally dropped his gaze and slunk off.

The newcomer then glanced at me with his scowling face and harsh eyes. It was hard to smile, let alone be grateful to such a man. I gulped and managed to thank him weakly.

"You can thank me best by avoiding that entrance. Those boys don't earn half their wages," he grunted. "Less women at the gate means less distractions for them."

This annoyed me, as I had no intended to cause trouble in the first place. But I pushed that aside and said, "Good sir, I meant to find out where the nearest accounting house is. Do you know one in this neighborhood?"

His lopsided eyebrows both arched up. "You little fool, do you think we're in the business district right now? Do you see scribes mulling about? It's at the other end of the lane, of course."

"Little fool, indeed!" I thought, pricked with irritation. At least I managed to learn from him that if I followed the main road much further down towards the foot of the merchant's guild, it would take me to the accounting house.

"Thank you," I said stiffly. And then recalling Joseph's advice I tried to end the conversation on a more civil note. "May I know your name, good soldier?"

His eyes widened and he looked taken aback, then his twisted expression grew even more intense. "Why do you want to know my name? Isn't it enough that I gave you directions?" he barked. "Moreover, I carry a staff instead of a spear because I am a mere gate-guard, not a soldier. Any fool can see that."

"Then I must be a fool after all," I finally snapped at him. And this time I did turn on heel and stomp off.

"Odious man," I grumbled aloud, not caring if he heard me. Wretched man! What rudeness, what abruptness to throw courtesy back in my face! No wonder he was a guard at the gate and not an official soldier. Even if he didn't have that limp, his nasty face would turn armies running away in disgust. Pharoah ought not to have such a man in his service.

Eventually, the brisk walking helped to burn off my anger and gradually replace it with remorse.

"I'm sorry Joseph," I apologized inwardly. "But my patience has only so much endurance."

A-A-A

I had much to learn that day about first impressions. The accounting house was another lesson in experiences. Contrary to my predictions, it was not a silent and orderly place.

My footsteps finally brought me to a building that consisted of one enormous room capped with a long row roof. Dozens of shelves had been carved into the walls to hold scrolls and documents. Only a few lamps were visible, and they had been placed strategically around the room. I noticed no flame was allowed to burn neglected. If a single lamp got near the parchment, it could undo years of work.

At least forty men and twenty apprentices were bustling about the place, handing parchment to each other, shouting and debating, signing and sealing documents. Anyone who stopped long enough to sit at his stool and write something would be interrupted by a peer, or else raise his hand and ask for some assistance. I stood to the side to avoid getting crushed by two excited newcomers and listened to the snatches of chatter around me.

"No, I am not going to count those smelly pigs again! I already tallied them up adequately."

"Inform the governor that repairs will begin on his barge on the fifth day in the second month…"

"He charged you too much for the cloth. Next time, demand an extra basket of vegetables."

"Nefer? Nefer? Bah, he's likely sleeping off a hangover from last night's party!"

"It's a fine dowry, though she'd better hid the best goods. I'm told her in-laws are stingy."

One man had grabbed his skinny assistant by the ear. "Do you think we're wealthy merchants here?" he raged. "You wasted two scrolls of parchment on your errors!" He finally let the boy go and he shrieked, landing back on the ground with a soft thud.

"Now bend your back down and do it over again! That wasted paper is coming out of your wages!" he shouted.

I barely managed to duck out of the way before his exasperated head nearly banged into the side of my face. "Yes? What is it?" he asked me.

Bracing myself for another unpleasant counter, I managed to speak over the inner discomfort in my head and speak my request meekly.

"Good day to you, Master Accountant. My name is Asenath, daughter of Poti-Phera. I have come to sell a parcel of land."

"Are you? Well, now. Here's a new sight for my eyes." He seemed to calm down as he glanced over me, though with more formality than the soldier at the gate. "Does Poti-Phera have such lazy sons that he must sent his daughter instead?" he demanded aloud.

Several men looked up from their work and starred at us. I shuffled in place, feeling more uneasy than ever with the attention of so many strangers looking at me.

"Poti-Phera was the former High Priest of On. He departed into the afterlife many months ago and his son was sent to Luxor for new employment," I explained.

"My condolences on your loss," he mumbled. The accountant flopped back down upon the rug that was spread next to his worktable and to my relief, he signaled for another mat to protect my knees from the dusty floor.

The accountant took a long swig of beer from the jar beside his desk and then gnawed at a chuck of bread at his elbow. "So," he said between mouthfuls. "Which goddess granted you divine strength to walk all the way from On to Thebes?"

"None, good sir. I took a boat."

"Of course you did."

I was more than beginning to question the accountant's competence. Perhaps one of the other workers here will intervene to assist me, I thought.

The accountant before me began shuffling the papers on his table. "Where in On is the property you wish to sell?"

"It is in Nagada, not On," I corrected him. I removed the documents Joseph had written down and carefully held up Potiphar's ring for him to examine. Upon seeing the glint of silver, the accountant clasped it in his bony fingers and turned it around with great interest.

"This property is the estate of Potiphar, son of Heper," I announced. "He was my original guardian before I went into temple service. Since Potiphar and his wife had no children of their own before they perished—"

"Don't I know it!" he interrupted me, spraying crumbs everywhere. "If it wasn't the plague, it has been some other misfortune compounding our labors!"

"Joseph would not rise and exit this place in disgust", I reminded myself. "He would try to draw some sort of lesson out of this situation."

I brushed some of the crumbs off my arm and inquired, "Has the plague affected Thebes that badly, Master Accountant?"

"Master Accountant, indeed!" He gave between a dry laugh and a cough, then cleared his throat with another gulp of beer. "Setep is my name, and it suits me well. But since you asked, I will answer your question. Yes, the plague left its mark on Thebes in the form of chaos.

"Even since the citizens threw themselves into a panic, Pharoah's scribes and soldiers have been toiling to put order back into the kingdom. Upheavals and disasters are not good for the economy," he went on. "Thieves roamed the streets. Citizens neglected to pay taxes. People scrambled to sell houses and boats, often leaving parts of their land neglected as they took what they wanted and fled in a panic."

He brandished his reed pen in the air as though it was a sword. "If Setep and his men can restore some of the balance in this land, we may yet see prosperity returning to Egypt."

Now that I had taken the time to inquire and to listen to Setep's response, I could see the situation in an improved light. No wonder he was easily irritated and had to take meals while he worked. He and his fellow accountants were overwhelmed with the great task of putting the kingdom back into order.

Feeling a bit humbled by the experience I said, "It is fortunate then that I came to you this day." I gestured to the papers before him. "You will see here a list of all the land on the estate and records of what it can produce."

"I see….I see…." Setep muttered. He rubbed his chin in thought and sat in silence for several minutes, seemingly to forget I was there.

I fidgeted in place and was about to ask him what to do when he finally looked up at me. "We have been getting similar requests from all sorts these last several months. Some citizens who fled from Thebes now want to return but many are of the opposite mind and wish to quit city and relocate into the countryside."

"Can you find me a buyer?" I inquired. "One who can pay the amount written document?"

"I have one in mind," said Setep as he uncovered another pile of scrolls. "Aha! There it is." He took it out, smoothed the document, and his lips murmured as his eyes danced over the scroll.

"I think I have someone who will be able to pay the price in full," he began slowly. "A farmer and his wife came in about two months ago complaining their house is nearly bursting at the seams with them and their children. They need a wide space with good land to resettle and are willing to pay, so long as the fields can produce crops to feed six hungry lads."

"The fields haven't been ploughed in a few years," I admitted. "I saw them for myself, and they've been neglected since the estate came into disarray. But I am sure a farmer and his sons can tame it."

Setep nodded. "And what about the house?"

I winced, but he picked up on that. "It'll need repairs, won't it? Well, I doubt the farmer will turn it over to be as splendid as Potiphar made it. They need sturdiness and simplicity over elegance."

I assured him that the foundation of the house was secure and the once-elaborate fountain that Potiphar and Zulekia admired could be torn down to create an additional workhouse, if not a new garden to cultivate fruits and vegetables. Setep's eyes were bright as we traded ideas back and forth and I was feeling warm and excited, even happy at the prospect of the estate flourishing again in different hands.

"However, there is something important you have to know," Setep cautioned me. He cleared his throat and said in a lower voice. "The farmer's wife is not Egyptian. I think she is a Hittite." He waited for my response, as though this was something bad in my eyes. I assured him that I had no concerns about selling the land to a man who had a foreigner for a wife.

"How soon can we complete the transaction?"

"I will try to get in touch with them as soon as possible. Come back at the fourth hour in morning tomorrow and if they are here, we can proceed with the sale."

I thanked Setep and left the accounting house.

Two tasks had been completed at last.

A-A-A

Dusk arrived before I knew I, turning the sky from bright blue to indigo and throwing beams of coral and pink down the lanes. Lights flickered on from within homes and I envied people who were returning to their families to sup and sleep together.

Setep had mentioned two streets with houses where I could find shelter for the night. I found myself standing between those streets, unsure of which door to approach.

Someone in a doorway had come out and was the process of emptying out some dirty water. Then she looked up and starred so hard at me that my chest ached, and I glanced aside. But she put aside her bucket and instantly strode across the street towards me.

"Asenath? Asenath!?" she called out in a husky voice. I could not speak until she was directly to my face and then her plump cheeks drew back in a smile.

"Asenath, do you not remember me?" she cried out. "It is I, Weret!"

"Weret!" I repeated. Relieved at this wonder, I took her hands into mine and laughed aloud in disbelief. Then she flung her arms around me and kissed me on both cheeks, hugging me tightly until we broke apart from the embrace.

She looked smaller to me but stouter and of more cheeriness than I had ever seen her from my childhood days. Her plaited hair had turned from gray to white with our time apart, but her face was red and robust, and her eyes were bright.

"You look well," I told her.

"And you, dear girl, have become a woman at last," said Weret. She held me at arms' length and studied me. "I always believed in my heart that you would grow up to become a fine lady and you have indeed! Praise Neith, for she has not forsaken you."

"I am fortunate indeed," I answered. "And what of you, Weret? How is your life?"

"I am blessed above all women, for I have been married six years," she announced proudly.

"Married!" I echoed.

"Indeed." Weret beamed at me. "I found a husband or rather, he found me. I was good with a kitchen knife so he told me we might as well share a bed since we shared a table. But enough of my talking. You have grown to be a pretty woman, but you seem, well, worn out," she added as her voice dropped in tone.

"I do feel stretched thin," I admitted.

"Then speak no more until you have eaten. Come, come," she urged me. And putting her rough red paw into my hand, Weret guided me into the safety of her in.

While others talked and eat in the front of the inn, Weret seated me in the back of the room near the kitchen where I could rest myself in ease while she prepared food.

"We know a fisherman who brings his best catch at the start of the day. The finest fish is the one who goes from the Nile into the frying pan at once," Weret said with a wink. She moved with a zest and delight that I had not seen in my childhood days. Clearly, this life suited her well.

She snatched a fish out of a basket and in three swift strokes, had it gutted and cleaned with her knife. Weret dipped the fish into some oil, added dill, and massaged everything together. Then she sprinkled the fish with crumbs that had come from leftover stale bread, assuring me that nothing would go to waste. Soon the fish was sizzling in the pan with some oil and the lively sound of it crackling and the delicious scent made my head swim.

"Eat, eat," Weret said, placing the fish before me. I nearly burned my tongue and fingers on those first few bites, but it filled my soul as much as my stomach. Nothing had ever tasted so delicious as the fish I ate that night. I needed no further encouragement as Weret set a jug of beer and a bowl of sliced cucumbers at my elbow.

I devoured my first piece of fish hastily, then worked my way through a second one covered in bits of melted cheese, and a third wrapped in a piece of flatbread. Then, even though my stomach was straining from fullness, Weret gave me a slice of melon. While I ate, she told me all that was occurring in Thebes and how Pharoah was preoccupied between restoring order in the kingdom while accepting tributes from other kingdoms that did not wish to wave war with him. During her chatter, Weret's husband came in and she introduced us. He seemed a simple but cheery-hearted fellow and told me I was welcomed in their home.

At last, my teeth and tongue could stop eating and when my belly was full, I told Weret about my work with Poti-Phera and about the plague and why I was in Thebes, but I omitted all mentions of Eliphaz to avoid worrying her. Nor did I consider bringing up Joseph's name. For all that Weret knew, that Semite slave had vanished like a puff of dust in the wind.

She expressed some remorse over the death of Potiphar and somewhat less over Zulekia's demise. But her enthusiasm returned responded with the greatest enthusiasm when I explained my purpose there.

"So, this accountant in Ombos recommended you dissolve Potiphar's estate and then attend Queen Tiaa at the palace?"

"Yes," was all I answered. As Joseph was indeed some sort of accountant—and resident—in the prison, then my words were not a complete falsehood. And I did not wish to bring his name up any more than necessary.

"What do you think of this plan, Weret?"

"It is an excellent idea!" she exclaimed. "The estate is rightfully yours since Potiphar had no children of his own. But it would be a tremendous responsibility for you to run by yourself. Now if you had a husband, that would be a different matter altogether…"

Her voice trailed off and she gazed at me, as if to suggest I had more to tell her. But I saw no reason in telling her about Akun's fate either and so let that pass as a ripple floats away upon the river.

"I agree that it is far too much for me to handle," I went on. "I would feel better if the estate was in the hands of someone who could use it. But I hope the queen will accept me into her service."

"Why so doubtful, Asenath? Of course she will," Weret assured me. "You need not worry yourself so much. I can see you have come a long way from the little girl I once knew."

She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "I know I wasn't always the most attentive nurse," she said with a weary half-smile. "But I did worry about you after Zulekia sent me away."

Knowing she had been thinking of me moved my heart. Now that I was full and content and sitting near the hearth with a childhood companion, I found a prayer rise up easily from within me and I thanked God for sending me onto Weret's path. My journey could not end now, not when I knew I was not alone.

"There's fault in me for being disobedient," I confessed to her. "And I am sincerely sorry for making things difficult for you. I must not have been an easy child to manage what with all of my endless questions and running around underfoot."

Weret chuckled softly. "I appreciate your apology, Asenath. Perhaps you were a bit unruly and impatient, but certainly not wicked or malicious. Looking back now, you needed something other than a nurse to help you smooth out those rough edges. But it looks as though you've smoothed things out for yourself after all."

I clasped her hands tightly within mine. "If I am turned away by the queen, would you find it in your heart to allow me to stay here and assist you and your husband?"

"And have you smelling of fish and frying oil all day?" asked Weret. She laughed again. "You are always welcome back in my home, Asenath. But I am sure the queen will not reject you. Clearly Neith spared you from the plague for some greater purpose in life."

But my thoughts were not of Neith that night as I lay upon a sleeping mat in one room and listened to Weret's husky breathing and her husband's deep snores from the other room. I kept thinking of Joseph in his underground room and wondered if he would ever taste fresh fish or feel the full warmth of the sun on his face or stand in the presence of companions again.

It was he who had helped to smooth out my rough edges and he who had guided my steps here. I had to reach the palace in Thebes for his sake, if not mine.

A-A-A

The next day I found Setep at his accounting house along with two other people, clearly the farmer and his wife. The six sons must have been left home for the day.

I couldn't help but stare at the wife from across the table. Large cylindrical curls of hair ran around her head and let off such a vibrant shade of red that I swore it must have been an expensive wig. It was only after she ran her hand through her fingers that I realized it was her real hair. I wondered if she dyed it with henna or that was her natural color. The yellow-green eyes underneath her fluffy bangs were slanted at the corners and gleamed keenly as a cat.

The cat eyes glinted at me and then she and her husband started gesticulating in such awkward tongues that I couldn't understand them.

"She doesn't speak a word of our language. Can you understand him?" asked the accountant.

I told him I couldn't, due to the farmer's thick accent. All Setep and I could understand was "field" and what we thought was "cow".

"You'll need a translator," said Setep. He summoned a boy to go fetch one and told me it would take at least another hour or two before we had results.

I waited and waited until my legs were numb and my stomach complained. But still the boy did not return. Setep scratched at his document and chewed on a radish, oblivious to the three of us as he had to use this spare time to manage other matters. The farmer stared blankly at the wall and yawned. His wife curled her fingers in her hair and swatted away an accessional fly. Finally, I rose from my mat and informed Setep I would be back soon. He waved a hand and warned me not to stray too far.

In the market I found bread, dried fish, figs, a bunch of lettuce and a flask of beer. The movement in my legs and comfort of food in my stomach rejuvenated my strength and I returned to the accounting house to learn the errand boy was still out. Setep was putting away documents, but I gave the rest of the food to the husband and wife.

They garbled on in their tongue between bites of bread and fig. His wife produced a bottle of wine from within her basket, so tart and dusky that it made my mouth pucker as I sipped from it.

"Where is Setep?" the errand boy finally yelled from the doorway. "Setep! Here is your translator!"

"There's no need to shout, lad," the translator grumbled. "If you wish to find the man named Setep, ask someone to find him."

I was taken aback to see it was the pockmarked guard from the gate, staff and all. His eyes barely widened when he saw me, but I colored and averted my eyes away.

To my bewilderment, he immediately sat down beside the farmer and began talking in the same tongue while they gesticulated excitedly with their hands. He managed to untangle their dialect in a few minutes before turning to me.

"The farmer has a desire to purchase the land you have inherited. Do you consent at the accurate price?"

"Yes, I do." I took out the second document that described the property assets and overall value. While I did not fully comprehend the details of the amounts, I did recall how Joseph explained to me that the estate had decreased in value. By his estimate, it was worth only two thirds of what it originally was due to neglect and decay. That was no loss on my part. The sooner I liquidated the estate, the better.

The translations went back and forth for some more time until the farmer cried out and showed a cupped hand to the guards. It was my turn to listen again.

"He wants to know if you will accept his offer."

I expressed interest and the farmer's wife removed a small bundle from her basket. Several layers of rags were peeled away to reveal a flash and moon-like glow of silver. Six rods of silver all had been hiding in the bottom of her basket—a small fortune by all means. She noticed my widened eyes and quickly rewrapped them.

I assured Setep it was sufficient, but he frowned and said, "There's still some missing from the total amount". When I asked for an explanation, he took out five pieces of broken pottery and lined them up on the table. "The farmer can only pay you four out of five amounts of the price. They have staked everything on this." On cue, the wife's own eyes were wide, and she was knotting her hands together, no doubt worried of her family's fate.

By now my head was reeling from all of the commotion. I was already weary, and it was getting late in the day. I would have liked nothing more than to shove all the documents into Setep's face and tell the farmer he could have the field at a discount.

But that would make me appear a fool in the eyes of my fellow citizens. If I walked out of the accounting room having sold so cheaply, it would make me an easy target to be taken advantage of. And while it was not as much as it used to be, I had to get a decent price for the field. In my head I prayed for help, and it was Joseph's voice that responded. "Find a place and purpose for every item."

I reached across the table for the last piece of pottery. Picking it up between my fingers, I snapped it into three pieces. "Here is my proposal. I will accept the six rods of silver now and over the next thee years, the farmer can pay me the rest."

The guard mentioned this offer, which must have pleased the farmer because he leapt up and began to dance in place. "Tell him to stop! This is not a court festival!" Setep snapped. The guard managed a half-grin out of the side of his face and clapped a shoulder on the farmer.

"What about the interest?" he added to me. I would need a place and purpose for that so I said, "Let it go their six sons so that they will have what to live on in the future."

To this, the farmer's wife rose and kissed me on both cheeks. All of her lovely features were enhanced by her smile. There was no need for words at this point to express her joy, which had risen to the same heights as my relief. Setep drew up a final document and asked for Potiphar's ring. I felt no sense of remorse, nor even relief, as I handed the tiny silver stamp to him, and he sealed up the deed of ownership. It had been as easy as handing over a stick or stone to someone else. Then Setep handed the deed and ring to the farmer. No one could undo him now; the ring gave him sovereignty over Potiphar's lands.

The wife thrust the bundle of wrapped silver into my hands and then touched a copper bangle embedded with pale purple stones upon her arm. This she slipped off and offered to me. I wish I had refused harder, but it was a fine piece and so I allowed her to take my hand and push it up past my wrist.

"She wishes you a long full live and ever-flowing baskets," said the guard. Setep would have pushed us both out the door if we tarried any longer; he had more mountains of work to do. The farmer and his wife waved to us as they left in one direction, and the guard and I walked in the other direction.

"You could have charged them more for the estate," said the man.

"I could," I agreed. "But six strong sons in service to Pharoah can get more out of it than I."

"Hmm. I hope you have a safe place to keep that silver. It wouldn't do to be flashing it about."

Again I agreed. "How…" I began, but then cut myself off. I meant to ask him how he came to know the Hittite tongue but recalled how he disliked my questions. Seeing his piqued expression, I revised my words.

"How fortunate you were available to translate, or else we would have been sitting around Setep's table all week."

"Not all week," he grunted. "But there are advantages to working at the gates. If one keeps his ears open as much as his eyes, he learns to pick up the tongues of all who enter and exit with-"

"Thief! Thief!" someone screamed. I was nearly knocked down by several people moving to catch the perpetrator. Like a bolt of lightning, he had snatched a handful of beads off a table and was speeding towards us.

I had the silver in my hands and could not risk losing it. Nor did the guard have the speed to stop him. But time seemed to slow down as the second thief approached us, then with another two steps would have been beyond our grasps. In the flash of that moment, the guard merely lowered his staff until it was parallel with the ground. The thief had been watching the road more than his feet, which began entangled in the staff. He tripped and rolled over into the dust, sending beads scattering around the ground.

"Enough!" shouted the merchant, huffing and puffing to catch up with us. He grabbed the boy by one arm and hoisted him to his feet.

"Mercy! Mercy, good sir!" the youth whined. "I only needed a crust of bread for my empty belly!'

"Then you ought to have stolen bread instead of jewelry from my store," the merchant snarled. "You'll be thrashed until the flesh peels off your bones."

Noticing the guard, he grunted a word of gratitude for stopping the culprit. But the guard said, "A word in your ear, merchant. By the time you find a magistrate to punish this boy, you'll have lost many more customers."

"Oho! And so you will do it for me?" demanded the merchant.

"Alas, I have duties to attend to," said the guard. "But for your sake, heed my words. Take this ungrateful urchin back to your store and give him a bit of bread. Then have him sweep your floors and haul your water pitchers for the rest of the day."

"What? That's too much work! And the sun beats down upon me so hard!" whined the boy.

"You ought to have thought of that before dabbling in petty theft," the guard rebuked him. To the merchant he added, "I will come by your shop tonight and if the lad has proven himself idle, I will escort him to the prison myself."

This took all the fight out of the boy, and he gulped, then meekly walked with the merchant like a beaten dog following his master home.

"That is all. Nothing more to see," the guard told onlookers in his usual gruff manner. "Don't you all have duties to perform?" One by one, everyone slunk off.

I knew the guard did not wish to be flattered but I found myself bowing to him after this. "That was well-handled," I told him. He hadn't Joseph's ease of manners or gentle tongue, but today's performance reminded me of the Semite's skill in untangling a problem.

I braced myself for his sharp tongue, but he merely shrugged his rounded shoulders.

"Soldiers have more important matters at hand than to go chasing a child across city all because of a handful of beads."

He then eyed the hidden silver still clutched tightly to my chest. "I presume you have a good purpose for that."

As I did not expect to see him again, I was frank with the guard. "I will present it to Queen Tiaa as soon as possible in the hopes that I may serve her," I announced.

His nostrils widened and his black eyes sparkled. "So be it!" was all he said. The guard gave me a stiff bow and then blended into the crowd.

Weret nearly flattened me with questions when I returned to the inn, but I was too exhausted to give her details. She did squeal with delight to see the silver and told me to sleep with it curled up next to me lest it be stolen in the night. I was too tired to argue with her and after having some bread dipped in a bowl of warm milk, I wrapped my arms around the silver and drifted off to sleep the moment my head rested upon the sleeping mat.

It had been a most interesting and illuminating day.

A-A-A

Weret helped me clean up and get prepared over the next two days. No new linen could be found nearby so soon, due to the plague causing a shortage of clothmakers. But we managed to acquire some yards of cotton. It was plain, but at least it was clean and could be cut to make a fresh tunic for me.

Weret hauled a fresh bucket of water to my room and assist me in looking clean and presentable. There wasn't enough time or extra money to find a decent wig, but my hair had grown out enough and curled around my ears to resemble one. At least I had my new shoes, the copper bangle, and my amulet for adornments.

"Simple piety will please the court," Weret assured me. She did polish up my amulet with a cloth to make it shine and advised me to wear it at all times. No doubt she saw it as Neith's blessing but to me, it remained the locked mystery of my existence. Weret also pressed a pouch full of wooden amulets into my hands. "These will lighten your steps and pour Neith's radiance upon your face," she assured me. "With such a divine blessing, the queen will have to accept you."

I didn't want to hurt her feelings, so I accepted them and silently hoped God would not burden my steps as a punishment.

"What is my husband making a racket all about?" Weret piped up. She ran downstairs with me trailing after her, the sounds of voices growing louder as we reached the main room. Weret's husband was arguing in the doorway with someone.

"Now see here, we don't want any trouble," the husband argued. "State your business or else leave."

"I only wished to inquire after the young lady's well-being," came a gruff familiar voice.

"That is of no business of yours, you—you vagabond!" shouted the husband. "Be off with you before I summon soldiers to remove your repugnant face from my inn."

"I know him!" I called out, approaching them. Weret looked mortified until I explained the man with the repugnant face was also the translator from two days before. Upon hearing this, Weret's husband made a hasty apology.

The soldier made another one of his stiff half-bows that seemed to make him wince briefly. Perhaps his injuries ran deeper than I knew. But standing up again, his brow smoothed out and he said to Weret, "Peace unto you, good lady of this household. I did not mean to intrude upon your residence."

"Hmmph!" Weret just thrust her hands on her hips and starred unafraid up into his face.

"You were a great help to me with the transaction of the estate," I said.

He responded by inclining his head and muttering, "It was but a trifle. I only translated some words back and forth."

"Is that so? Well…" Weret's husband looked relieved. "I am willing to put the matter behind us if you are."

"I am," the guard agreed.

"Have you eaten yet? Our kitchen still has adequate food for a hungry traveler," said Weret in a more civil tone.

"Thank you, but no," the guard said in a polite but stiff voice. "I did not mean to invade your privacy. The young lady informed me she is seeking service with the queen. I wished to verify if she found herself a suitable escort to Pharoah's palace."

"We can't let Asenath go all by herself," Weret's husband began to agree. And then Weret was telling him it was too far and too risky for a man at his age to go to the palace, that they would try to find someone else as a guide. But as their voices began to fade away from me, the humming presence of my inner self was growing stronger.

At this moment, my life was to take a turn in a direction I had not seen before. Perhaps it was the finger of God gently tapping me upon the shoulder or an angel that had whispered a wise word into my ear. In that moment, I tuned all of my senses towards the guard and studied him more carefully. In spite of his blunt mannerisms and harsh face, there was no doubting the dignity in his voice when he had explained his purpose there that morning. There was no lust or lurking desire in the depths of his eyes, only a man interested in carrying out his duty to the best of his abilities. His intentions were honorable, even if he seemed a bit embarrassed in this situation.

"Will you be my escort?" I heard myself ask him.

"Asenath!" Weret cried out. It seemed I'd never cease to bewilder her.

"Me?" asked the guard. He touched a finger to his chest and then suddenly let out a brief hoarse laugh, as though his throat was rusty from practice.

"You flatter me, Asenath. But I am a merely a crippled guard who stands at the gate. I am sure you will find someone more suitable to escort you."

I took a step towards him and spoke from the inner voice that gave me strength to speak the truth. "I see before me a hardworking and intelligent man. You saved me before at the gate and you stopped a thief in the market two days ago. I believe your presence will be a great assurance to me as I stand at Pharaoh's gates."

His thick eyebrows arched up. "Hardly a gate will open to a face as my own."

"Your face will scare off any intruders," I countered with a smile. This time I found it easier to look him in the face and did so until I could sense him relenting.

He heaved out a sigh. "Well, far be it from me to decline a lady's request."

"Asenath, are you sure of this?" asked Weret's husband.

I answered in the affirmative. "I thank you for your hospitality, but I don't want to tarry any longer. I wish to stand at the palace and lay the silver at the queen's feet."

Weret deflated at my words. "The gods' work is strange to us. But perhaps Asenath's path has always been destined to be thus. All right, guard. I'll hear no tricks from you," she threatened him. "I expect you to come straight back here after you have delivered Asenath to the palace. If you haven't done your duty, may Horus pour his vengeance down upon your head!"

The muscles in the guard's face contracted and I swore he was trying to stifle any hint of amusement, even though Weret was two heads shorter than him, and he could easily trip her over using his staff.

"May I know the name of the guard who is escorting me?" asked I.

"I am called Beka, son of Quri."

"And I am Asenath, daughter of the late Poti-Phera."

"Then let us be off, Asenath."

A-A-A

Beka told me it would take nearly half a day to get to the palace and so we walked at a brisk pace, me with the silver in a safe pouch at my waist and Beka holding a basket of food that Weret had prepared for us. The further we journeyed, the less noise and dust fell around us until it was all at our heels. I could see well-kept vineyard and fields escorting us as we proceeded towards a narrow-tiled walkway that had been built over a canal.

My ease must have impacted Beka because his tongue loosened enough for him to tell me about his life's circumstances. His mother had stepped into the afterlife when he was only three years old, so Beka's father married again, this time to a Midianite woman who had been brought to Egypt as a slave. Marriage had freed her from the shackles of poverty and humiliation and in gratitude she threw her efforts into making the home and hearth a comfortable place for herself, her husband, and her stepson for many years.

Beka's father had died eight years ago but the stepmother was currently residing in Karnak. As she was in relatively good health for a woman of aged years, and that town was not far from Thebes, Beka went to visit and inquire after her wellbeing every month.

The more I heard from the man's own lips, the more satisfied I was with his character. It was rapidly outweighing his exterior flaws and shedding some light onto the origins of his limp.

"Pharoah had only just been coronated before his military campaign in the east to conquer the mighty city of Joppa," said Beka. "Rather than wait to starve the city out, he ordered his men to hide in large baskets and present them as tribute to the princes of Joppa. Many of these baskets had been covered with a layer of cloth or some grapes and so the people of the city did not suspect anything. Once the baskets were delivered into the main gate, we sprang out and conquered with little loss of life. But in my haste, I nearly leapt out of my basket and into the way of a speeding chariot. I would have been dashed to pieces under its wheels had a comrade not pulled me to safety. My life remains, but my limbs did not fully heal."

Thus, was why he was resigned to a gate guard. I asked him why he did not request a different position to Pharoah, or at least his captains. Surely Beka's use as a translator, not to mention his handling of the market thief, could be put to better use. But Beka shook his head and sighed.

"A man has his pride, Asenath. I shamed myself that day in Joppa and thereby shamed Pharoah and his entire army. I will not stand before him or the court to beg on my own behalf. No, the gate is my duty and will remain so for the rest of my days."

There was a melancholy resignation in his voice that told me he had made this decision years ago and nothing I could say would change his mind. And yet here he was beside me, willing to assist me in my own pursuits. Surely I can repay his goodness someday, I thought.

We stopped to sit on the edge of a bridge and ate some of the food Weret had packed into the bag. Beka said, "Now it is time for me to hear your tale and how you came to know Weret and to take the road to Thebes."

I did as he requested, though again altering my story to avoid mentioning Joseph's name. I only remarked that a Semite slave in Potiphar's house knew some signs and numbers so my guardian had him tutor me. Beka commented this was impressive for a slave but did not press me further on the matter.

"And so, when you were fourteen, Potiphar had you transferred to his cousin's ruling," Beka continued. "Did his wife approve of this?"

Zulekia was glad of it. She despised me because I witnessed the lady of the house wrapping herself around a man who was not her husband. She despised him because he served a God she could not understand and withheld his passion from a deed that was not his to fulfill. She loathed me for what I did do by parting my lips and speaking the truth.

"Zulekia approved," I answered, trying to keep my tone even as possible. I couldn't help but add, "I believe it was her idea."

Beka's head jerked aside, and he looked attentively at me from over the jug he was drinking from. "Why? Was she pilfering his money box or ogling a handsome servant?"

Noticing the bewildered expression on my face, Beka let out a sharp bark of a laugh. "Ha! I guessed as much. If Potiphar was Pharoah's chief steward, he must have been wealthy enough to satisfy most of his wife's needs. That means she must have been motivated by passion to satisfy her other needs. What happened to you afterwards?"

I told him how I was sent to Poti-Phera's temple and of the plague and Akun. But when I mentioned returning to the impoverished estate, Beka suddenly slapped a hand against his thigh.

"Potiphar was a fool!" he boomed aloud. Then he pardoned himself for startling me, though continued speaking heatedly.

"What sort of respectable man turns a young girl, his own ward, out of his house and sends her to live with strangers at the behest of his wife?" he raged on. "That is dishonorable conduct for any Egyptian noble. Why, if I was in Potiphar's position, I would not let my wife dictate to me how to manage my estate. And I would keep a close eye on my daughter so that she would be raised with respectability."

A strange sensation came over me, hot and thick as anger, but with none of the vicious venom that wounded the blood. It was tempered with enough warmth for me to realize that Beka was speaking up on my behalf and I welcomed, even cherished, his words that advocated for my past self.

"Harumph!" Beka scratched the back of his head and seemed to calm down enough. "Perhaps that is why the gods have made me so deformed that I will never have a wife or children. Not that it is so terrible being a guard gate, but I must live my half-cursed life as well as I can."

"Surely it cannot all be cursed," I tried to encourage him. "If there is anything I have learned in life, the road ahead is not always straight and paved. It has bends and turns that navigate us onto new paths we never expected to take. Perhaps there is something better in your life ahead."

"Perhaps," he relented. "But we have delayed long enough. I promised to Weret that I would get you safely to the palace and that is my priority."

He thrust the jug into the basket, and we continued onward. Soon we reached an impressive grove with palm and hyssop trees that stood in tall proud parallel lines like sentinels on guard. At the end of the grove was an archway framed with two massive statues of Anubis. Even though I had resolved myself not to be swayed by the presence of stone again, I still felt meek as we walked beneath their rigid gazes. I had to do something to affirm my new faith. When I asked Beka to give me a moment to adjust my shoe, I knelt down and quietly discarded the bag of Weret's amulets beneath a bush.

It was not as easy as I thought it would be. I thought I had just cut off the last reserve of safety from my old traditions and now I was floating off in a sea of uncertainty. I had turned my back on the gods of my guardians. Would the God of Joseph take notice of my action and aid me so that I would not sink into the waters below?

As we advanced to the steps of the palace, I felt the light of the sun no longer heavy and oppressive upon my face. Now it was tempered by the presence of banners that waved in the wind and filtered out the sun's heat, leaving it gentle and pleasant to visitors. Great slabs of limestone supported the base of the palace, each one painted in elaborate hieroglyphics and framed with gleaming yellow paint. Beka and I gaped up at the narrow high footsteps that led to the inner sanctum of the palace. Rising up from the top of the stairs were eight alabaster pillars, each one sporting a base that had been carved into the shape of a lotus blossom and was painted in alternating shades of light and dark blue, making the pillar bases resemble petals in the process of opening to the fresh air.

Beka used his staff to prop himself up step by step. I followed beside him, lifting the hem of my dress so that I would not trip him up. But the higher we climbed, the more unease grew within me.

I could feel a tiny but persistent pinching sensation between my shoulder blades, as though a gnat had infected my spine and was gradually chewing away at my resolve. With every passing minute, the questions in my head were increasing to monstrous proportions until my lungs were gasping for air from the anxiety swimming before me.

What if Pharoah dismissed me from his court? What if the queen refused to see me? What if the silver was confiscated from me and I had to return to Joseph empty-handed?

I stopped in place, too frightened to take a step further. Terror had cut off my path and turned my feet into stone.

Beka turned around to look down at me, three steps below him.

"What is it?" he asked.

I couldn't even find the words to speak. My throat contracted and the gnat in my back jeered in triumph. I just stood there in dumb terror at the rising palace of gold and stone before us. It was a giant compared to two grasshoppers. I did not want to be crushed.

Beka did not laugh. He glanced down at me with a look of concern in his bizarre eyes.

"I have seen that look before," he said gravely. "It is in the face of every man before he charges onto the battlefield. Fear temporarily paralyzes him and makes him into an easy target for the enemy's arrow. He must draw breath into his body and stir the blood in his veins if he wants to stay alive."

Beka took two steps down towards me and offered me his hand. "If you lack courage, I will give you some of mine. But the first step must be your own, Asenath. Take it and the fear will break."

I gazed upwards into the face that had once disgusted me but was now offering me spirt and protection. In Beka's eyes was a firm steadiness, an assurance that he would not let me down nor abandoned me in my quest. It was more than Potiphar and Poti-Phera had ever given me, and the gratitude swelled up within me, urging my legs to move as I advanced up the steps and put my hand into his bigger and gnarled one.

He was right. The first step cracked the stone within me and the second and third helped it to crumble away. I could still feel my heart banging around excitedly in my head, but now I was alive with resolve to continue the path.

In an elegant courtyard we saw some officials and scribes mulling about. A few of them lifted their heads to see us but made no effort to speak. Beka said this was a good sign and so we proceeded down the cool airy hallway that opened up into the courtroom.

This room was narrower than I had imagined, but the high windows cut into stone poured beautiful golden light down upon the raised dais at the end of the room. No doubt that was where Pharoah and his queen would be seated. Supporting the walls were ten columns painted green to resemble trees, each one adorned with a red circular knob. The walls themselves told silent but colorful stories of Pharoah's might in the forms of pictures of him riding a horse into battle, of being bathed in Amun-Ra's radiance, and receiving tithes and gifts from blue-faced Osiris. These tales stood out in such bright colors and details that they seemed to be ready to leap off the stones.

Well-dressed officials in fine linen robes, kilts and shawls of splendid colors, fur capes, and golden ornaments were mulling about, and their presence blocked me from seeing the people on the throne. I glanced aside at Beka, silently asking him what protocol we must follow.

Beka turned aside to a man standing in the doorway. "Announce the young lady," he commanded the palace guard.

The guard's eyes slid over Beka, then my own underdressed self. "Who is this 'lady' that I should make known?" he drawled, showing no sign of being cooperative. "Is she expected into the palace? Has she some high rank to be made known and worthwhile?"

I thought Beka would sharpen his tongue and blunt the guard's rude teeth. But instead, he reacted with an even bolder manner that mortified me. All this time the guard had been holding a fine carved wooden staff that was shodden with metal at the bottom. With great speed, Beka snatched the staff out of the guard's hands and banged it three times on the ground.

Ktong! Ktong! Ktong!

The sound vibrated all over the throne room, causing conversations to halt and heads to turn in our direction. The guard began to sputter but before he could string his words together, Beka let his voice boom out as loud as a lion's roar.

"Make way for Asenath, the esteemed priestess of On!" he called aloud. "Hail to the priestess!"

I stared at him, bewildered and momentarily startled at his exaggerated announcement of my presence. I tried to utter a protest, but he glared at me. One look from his smoldering gaze sent me back into silence. When I did not move for several moments, Beka's hand planted itself on my back and with a sharp push, ebbed me forward several feet until I was standing in the throne room itself.

I could not retreat my steps. I must cross the length of the room while all the delegates and dignitaries of the court would stare at me. I had to keep my head up as I began the painful process of walking down the length of the room. But I recalled Beka's words and took a single step forward. The second one felt lighter, and I hardly felt my foot touch the ground. My hands felt light, my entire body was going transparent as eyes were fixed upon me.

From behind me, I could hear the staff strike the ground another three times. And again, Beka declared my presence with full regalia and pomp as though I was the daughter of Pharoah himself.

Ktong! Ktong! Ktong!

"Praise to the priestess, blessed daughter of Neith," he called out. "Hail to the priestess, patroness of blessings and good fortune."

"Hail to the priestess!" someone echoed in the back. A thread of excitement wove through my spine as my footsteps continued forward.

"Hail to the priestess!" four other people called out. And the after several more moments, I heard what sounded like the rest of the room declare, "Hail to the priestess!"

I stole a glance down at my new shoes. Even if my meager cotton dress could not compare to the bright attire around me, I had to make the most of these shoes. So, I lifted my gaze upwards again to make sure that I would not lose focus or crash into someone else.

The staff banged against the floor one last time. Two men stepped aside so that I could fully see the end of the room.

Lord, I am in Your hands. I am frightened and trembling, but here I am, I prayed silently. For Joseph's sake, do not abandon me now.

The throne was empty. My terrors were already souring into disappointment.

Then I noticed an ivory table had been set aside just below the dais of Pharoah. The person hunched over this table resembled a vulture more than a man, what with his bald head and overly adorned cape and a scarf of fur wrapped around his elongated scrawny neck.

He had been scratching away at some papyrus but finally glanced up when he felt my gaze upon him. He must have been at least seventy or eighty years old. Four blue worm-like veins throbbed on the surface his bare scalp. His red watery eyes finally met mine.

I dropped to one knee. When he said nothing, I murmured, "Greetings, my lord."

There was the meek sound of a reed pen being placed upon the table. Then the shifting of cloth as he rose and walked around his table.

"On your feet, priestess," the man said. Despite his frail appearance, the voice still bore the proud notes of one who is accustomed to giving orders. I did as told.

"I am Urat, viceroy to the Pharoah. What brings you here?"

"Greetings, most honorable viceroy to Pharoah Amenhotep," I began. Then swallowing to relieve my parched throat, I opened my pouch and removed the letter of introduction that Joseph had given me.

"I have journeyed from On to Thebes to beg service to her majesty, the queen."

Urat took the letter and scanned it with his eyes. When he made no comment, I then chose to draw out the bars of silver. I could feel dozens of eyes boring into my back like flies around meat as I held them in my hands.

"See in my hands the worth of the estate of the late Potiphar, former Chief Steward of the Pharoah and my previous guardian," I went on. "This is all a gift for the queen so that I may find favor in her eyes."

"A thoughtful gesture," said Urat at last. "But you should have brought the deed of Potiphar to the court first, not sold the property at your behest. It is not up to you to delegate Pharoah's lands."

I winced, then gathered my thoughts. Best not to rattle him further.

"Very well, viceroy. I thank you for your guidance on handling such matters. I will be sure to remember your council next time."

"Next time?" His slim frame twitched restlessly. "Have you other property to sell?"

"….no," I finally answered meekly.

I heard laughter all around me but at least the viceroy smiled. Before he could speak again, he was interrupted by a fit of wet coughs. I had to stand still and patient for a while longer while he collapsed back into his chair and coughed into his cape until he could breathe again. Then he read the letter of introduction again.

"So you hoped to trade your birthright in for service in the court?"

I deliberated my words before speaking. "My lord, the estate fell into disarray after the plague. I have no need of such a large amount of land nor have I the skills to cultivate it by myself. There are seven strong hands ready to till the land for Pharaoh's sake. I come to put my own skills to better use."

"What are these skills?"

"I have served in the temple of Amun-Re for nearly half my life. I am accustomed to the preparations of all rites and rituals."

"Is that all?"

Here I faltered. "I, I can read and write a little," I added feebly. "And here is the silver!"

The cool gleam of it in the afternoon sunlight seemed to ease some of Urat's ill-plagued body. "The queen has no need for further assistance at this time. But hand over the silver and I will see what I can do."

He reached with a bony hand out towards the gift in my hands.

Beka may have been at the other end of the room, and I had not known him for long, but I could sense his stare through all of the onlookers and what he was mentally advising me what to do. I hastily stepped back from Urat and covered the silver with my cupped hands.

"I thank you for your consideration, honorable viceroy. But I wish to hear the dismissal from the queen herself." The sound of my own vindication aloud startled me. I did not know I had those words within me. But once I said them, the words had become my sword and shield. I would not leave until I spoke with the queen.

The court rippled with murmurs.

"Impossible!" Urat declared.

"I would not dare to intrude upon the queen any more than a few moments," I went on.

Urat snorted. "Out of the question."

His stubbornness was iron. I would have to meet it by being firm, but gentle, in my own way.

"I will gladly forfeit this silver to enrich Pharoah's coffers as soon as I meet the queen," I said as calmly as possible. "Until then, I cannot let it leave my hands."

"And pray, what will you do until then?" Urat drawled out.

I was at an impasse. I ran my dry tongue over my teeth and said, "I will...I will walk about the palace and try again tomorrow," I said at last.

This time laughter rang out freely around the court. "You will walk to the pyramids and back with that pluck!" Urat chortled aloud. "And now doubt would survive the journey. But tell me, which of the gods protected those delicate ankles as they carried you to Thebes?"

"Good merchants in boats brought me to Thebes; let the gods bless them," I answered delicately. "But since the gods did not hinder my journey thus far, I implore you to let me see the queen—"

"Hold your tongue, girl," a voice rasped from behind the dais. "No need to say thrice what you said once."

The newcomer stepped out from behind a curtain and stood beside Urat. Beka may have had an odious appearance, but this woman was likely the ugliest of my sex.

She had the yellow bulbous eyes of a frog set in a heavy tanned face. Her squat figure was topped with broad rounded shoulders that should have belonged to a man. Above her folded arms were two flabby breasts that sat upon her chest like two overstuffed bags of grain. A wide purple mouth stretched across this grotesque square-shaped face and turned down at the corners. This foe would be even more difficult to please than the viceroy.

One glare from her was already making my stamina wither away. Would she slap me away with one of her meaty arms?

"I will take her to see the queen," the woman told Urat in a low croaking sound. "The viceroy cannot work while a woman prattles away."

"Very well." Urat coughed again and collapsed back into his chair. He pointed to me with his pen and then jabbed it at the toady woman. "Go with Yamun. And remember that Urat generously permitted you into Pharoah's court today."

"Th-thank you," I stammered. I stole a glance behind me but could not see Beka behind everyone who had been watching the spectacle. Yamun grabbed me by the arm somewhat roughly and I was pulled, if not dragged, behind the curtain and into a room with a high staircase.

I followed her up this staircase and down another, all the while clutching the precious silver to my chest. It was growing slippery in my damp palms. I hoped I could put it into the queen's hands and be done with this ordeal once and for all.

Yamun stopped short so fast that I nearly crashed into the back of her. Several maids in belted dressed and headscarves were standing around a square-cut pool in the center of a small high-ceilinged room. The pool was filled to the brim with water of the lightest and loveliest shade of green, so clear and fine as sunlight filtering through lush green leaves.

Two of the maids approached me and reached for my tunic hem. "I can undress myself," I began to say.

Yamun whirled around and gave me such a withering look that I wanted to vanish into thin air. I meekly set aside my pouch, bangle, and the silver upon a chair. My precious amulet was last and I wound the chain several times around my fingers before placing it on top of the bundle. At least this chair was right next to the pool so I could keep an eye on everything. I let the servants undress me, though the discomfort of standing naked before strangers made my limbs twitch with anxiety. But they performed the deed with the detachment of professionals, not even showing a glimmer of interest in their eyes or uttering a single word. This task was as mundane to them as Weret scaling a fish.

I was eased into the pool, which was blissfulness in itself. The water was skimmed with white foam and warm to the touch as though standing in the presence of an afternoon sun. Truly this was a luxury to have an entire bath heated up with water and ready to be used at any given moment. I had little time to enjoy it as Yamun herself thrusted one of my arms up and proceeded to smear ground carob into it to remove the odors of the day. A maid knelt by the other side of the pool to wash my other arm and then she and Yamun traded placed. I was turned around this way and that, scrubbed and scored with soaps and rags until my skin tingled all over.

"Will I meet the queen soon?" I finally spoke up. Nobody answered me. "Is she preoccupied today?" I inquired further.

"Be quiet," Yamun answered me. "You talk too much."

I did as she commanded me, but with great reluctance. The silence of this ritual was doing nothing to ease my nerves. I was guided out of the pool and patted down with robes, then guided into a chair. Further water was dumped over me from jugs and this was wiped away as well. Then I detected a charred scent in the air and saw a maid hovering over me with a stick of hot wax.

My ordeals were mounting by the moment. My flesh had no been attended to for so long that being smeared with melted wax and then having it stripped away was a new form of torture. I more than flinched as thousands of tiny fishooks puncturing my armpits, legs, and inner thighs and then gradually tore off my flesh, leaving the skin underneath throbbing raw and red.

I wanted to abandon the quest. I wanted to jump off the stool and flee back into the street. Somehow I managed to grip the sides of the stool and assure myself that this would all be worth an audience with her majesty. My whimpers were often punctuated with a few squeals and exclamations of soreness as the hardened wax was scrapped off my body, taking the excess hair with it. At least Yamun did not tell me to keep silent again. I managed to bite my lips a few times and to my relief she finally uttered in a less menacing, if not more empathetic tone the following words: "It will all be over soon."

True to her words, it was finally over at last. I was placed face down onto a table and Yamun rewarded my wounded skin by massaging a fragrant sweet oil into it. Her hands were strong and firm but they worked wonderfully well to draw out the frets and worries that swam through my head. My muscles felt so loose and rubbery that I nearly fell asleep until she told me to sit up again. A sheer dress of gauzy material was produced and I was helped into it, then ushered into a low chair.

The maids brought forth a copper mirror, bottles, boxes, and brushes. One of them lifted up my foot and used a file to clean the miniscule bits of dirt from the nails and file them down. Another harried to have the nails on my hands properly cut and painted with henna. A third stirred ochre with fat and used a brush to apply the mixture to my mouth. Yamun watched with the attentiveness of an overseer and kept her stout hands planted upon her hips.

I watched my reflection in the mirror gradually morph into a new woman, someone who had left little Asenath of the barley fields and giddy Asenath of the temple of On behind. This Asenath had eyes that were brightened by the glittering malachite paint around her lids. Her expression was enhanced by the dips and curves of black kohl drawn around the edges of her lashes. Her lips parted in surprise revealing the gleam of her teeth against the bright red lips.

One maid stopped her work with brush in midair, turning her head back to Yamun.

"Satisfactory?" she asked.

Yamun looked me over with her too-big eyes. She grunted and made a clicking sound with her teeth. "No. Use the keshem powder," she said as she pointed to a box. "It will bring out the vibrancy of her eyes."

The maid dipped a larger brush into the box and let it flit back and forth across my face. I felt a fine powdery dust settle upon my skin.

A wig was produced and fitted over my head. I hadn't much time to admire myself in the mirror before Yamun pulled me to my feet. But I caught a glimpse of the newcomer starring back at me. The long sparkling curls of dark hair fell just about my shoulders, which softened my full face and drew attention away from my too-sharp jawline. A trail of gold dust had danced across my cheekbones, making my eyes seem brighter and more lustrous than ever.

Yamun took the silver, but I was given back the rest of my items. As I drew the amulet back over my head and flipped out the hair of the wig, I wondered who this newcomer was and if she even remembered the name of the man who had caused her to walk upon this road. It was not likely she would ever stand again inside a prison, let alone speak to a slave.

Yamun instructed me to follow her out of the bathing room and down a corridor. The hallway opened up into a wide pavilion where sweet notes of music and shrieks of delight filled the air.

There were only six of them but they all seemed so lively that my eyes imagined it must be a dozen women. Two of them were kneeling beneath the shade of a palm tree and threading red flowers into a long chain. One was seated upon a mat and playing skillfully upon a pipe fixed to her lips.

Three were in the trembling deep blue waters and splashing about merrily. I stood behind Yamun's shadow so as not to get too close to them and upset the fine makeup with their splashing.

"Your majesty," Yamun announced in her hoarse but steadfast voice. "Forgive my intrusion but you have a visitor. A priestess has come to pay her respects."

One of these women in the water turned around. "Avert your eyes," Yamun commanded me. I did so and fixed my attention upon a tile of square-cut black and green squares while I heard the splashes of someone emerging from the water and then the muffled sounds of cloth against skin.

"Turn around and kneel before her majesty," Yamun announced.

I did so, respectfully dropping to one knee before the queen who was now dressed and seated comfortably in the shade of the pavilion. Two female slaves stood over her with great plumaged fans to keep the flies away from her presence.

A woman's voice spoke, a voice that was even and refined as a note of music but had a hint of huskiness in it, lending the voice weight and balance.

"Lift up your eyes, my child."

I dared to turn my neck upwards and into the face of Queen Tiaa, wife of Pharoah Amenhotep.

Zulekia may have terrified me in my childhood but I wouldn't deny she had been the most beautiful woman I had ever seen—until now.

My first impression was that the spirit of a fertility goddess had descended from the heavens and brought life into this flesh and blood being before me. Her eyes were large and dusky brown as doe but glowed with a deep emotion signaling intelligence and curiosity. Her mouth was full and pink as two rose petals, the lower lip protruding just slightly above the upper one. Beneath her elegant fishnet gown, the queen's small but full breasts were bound securely together. One could catch only a glimpse of them, which suggested there were further gifts beneath her dress, but no further. The legs remained slim but her torso was not angular like Zulekia's. The queen's waist curved inwards and her hips slopped outwards, revealing the experience of one who has born children.

"Why do you stare so?" inquired the queen

"Ah…" I had to find my tongue and use it again. "I beg forgiveness for my boldness, my lady. But you are so lovely!"

I heard the other girls in the pavilion twitter and snigger around me. But the queen let out a soft laugh without hint of mockery in it.

Yamun stepped aside and laid the six bars of silver upon a table to the queen's right. "This is Asenath, priestess of On. She brings you this silver redeemed from her family's birthright."

"I see." The queen picked up a bar of this expensive silver and hardly studied it before replacing it on the table. Perhaps it wasn't grand enough, I began to fret.

"A generous gesture," she said at last. "But what is the occasion for such a gift? I do not recall any further festivals this month."

Here was the crux of the matter. I willed myself to speak each word carefully and not prattle on as Yamun ordered me. "My lady, the silver is given out of respect for your honorable self. I have brought it in the hopes that I may find favor in your eyes and perform service to you in the court."

"Service in the court," the queen repeated. She made a gesture with her fingers and Yamun brought forth a wrap, then placed it around the queen's shoulders.

She did not respond to my request immediately. Tiaa seemed to be contemplating thoughtfully. I would learn this was one of her admirable traits: she seldom spoke in haste. It was her nature to wait a moment or two, often using her gaze to meet that of others, before she spoke using well-chosen words.

"I have been attended to by the daughters of scribes, magicians, architects, and princes. But never the daughter of a priest."

Tiaa adjusted the shawl around herself. "Come, priestess," she coaxed me. "Give my maidservants and I council. We await your guidance from the words of the gods."

I hesitated, thinking of suitable words to answer her. "I wish I could give you sufficient council, my queen. But my years and young and tender. I lack experience to provide advice to one so great as yourself."

I spread my hands apart. "If it pleases the queen, I humbly ask if I may be allowed to serve you to the best of my abilities and draw wisdom from your greatness."

"So you do not intend to mentor others, but be mentored yourself," she spoke at last. "Unusual. Come closer, Asenath."

I approached the queen and was astonished when her hand gently came under my chin, guiding my face directly towards hers. "And what remarkable eyes you have. They resemble the night sky and the evening sunset. Which of the gods blessed you with such a gift?"

It would have been so easy to just say it was Neith and have it over with. These roundabout answers I had to come up with were getting more challenging. "I do not know," I admitted as last. "But one hopes the blessing will be in worthwhile serice."

The queen drew back her hand and sat back in her chair. "What do you think, Yamun?" she asked her servant.

Yamun shrugged her rounded shoulders. "The girl has too much to say but she can be trained out of that."

Tiaa bobbed her head and then rose from her chair. "Well, Asenath of On. I suggest a trial period of three months in my service. In that time let us see what wisdom and council may be found between the both of us."

My heart all but leapt out of my chest with joy. I restrained my voice enough to speak gratitude to the queen. She gave me a graceful nod of her head and commanded me, "Fall in line behind my maidservants".

This I did, a fresh song of gratitude ready to sing its way out of my heart. But as I swept past all five other girls to take my place in the back of the line, two blue-painted eyelids opened wide and a face from the past halted my path.

The song on my lips died away. The sun had concealed itself behind a cloud and removed its warmth from my flesh.

It was Ahti.

Memories flooded me and shrank the fine-eyed Asenath of twenty-two down back into an ignorant girl of eleven. Ahti could not have been older than fifteen or sixteen when we witnessed the false charges against Joseph. In the eyes of a little girl, Ahti had been a fully-grown woman. Now I saw she was only a few years older than me and time had preserved her features. There were faint noticeable creases around her eyes and mouth, but those were of a shrewd disposition. Otherwise, her face was unlined, her skin still fresh, and her sky-painted eyes as alert and cunning as ever.

Ahti's arm barely brushed against mine but the mere close content with her sent a shudder through me. Her eyes narrowed abruptly at me but then slid away to focus on Tiaa. In that moment I recognized the effect that my presence had on her. The pesky little lizard had not withered away but survived, a damned nuisance who had returned to become a full-fledged rival and irritant.

God had gotten me into the palace at last. I had been placed upon a gilded platform high above Eliphaz's reach, but the base was unstable. If I did not learn to balance myself properly, I was at risk of falling into the precipice. Or Ahti would just shove me in.

He wasn't done with my prayers just yet.

A-A-A

"The whole world is a very narrow bridge. And the most important thing is not to be afraid".

-Rebbe Nachman of Breslov