The Bend in the River

by Rose Eclipse

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

8. Chapter 8

"Do not be ashamed to be helped; the task before you is to accomplish what falls to your lot, like a soldier in a storming party. Suppose, you are and cannot scale the wall by yourself, yet it can be done with another's help." -Marcus Aurelius

A-A-A-

"Lice! Lice!" someone shrieked overhead.

I lifted my head up and blinked away the night's sleep. The other maidservants were fluttering around the room squealing and scratching their scalps, save for Ahti who was fumbling with the sleeve of her dress and kept giving me sideways glances.

I put a hand to my own scalp and gingerly dug my fingernails into it. Something hard and gritty scrapped under the nails. I made a face as I drew it out and then studied the small shiny sphere under the tip of my thumb.

"Be silent!" Yamun ordered everyone. "Cease your squealing until I find out what has occurred." I felt one of her hand's firmly clamp upon my shoulder while the other one yanked at my wrist. She flicked the bead into her own hand and studied it.

"Barley," she concluded. There was a collective sigh of relief while Ahti seemed even more focused on straightened the linen threads of her fabric.

"Asenath, how did barley come into your hair?" she asked me.

I frankly answered that I had no idea, but perhaps a grain or two of it from last night's bread had found its way onto my scalp.

"Are you in the habit of bringing food into your bed?" Yamun pressed me further.

Again, I answered in the negative. She swung her muscled arms around to face the other girls. As her back was to me, I could not see her expression, but it must have been harsh enough to make everyone else cower before her.

"There has been no harm, but I will recommend to Queen Ahti that scalp treatments be provided for all of you." There was a collective groan from everyone until Yamun clapped her hands twice. "Stop your chattering. To the baths!" she declared.

Like the others, I was made to sit in a tub of steaming water until sweat poured down my face and my fingertips shriveled up. Then my scalp was scoured with vinegar and combed over with cautious scrutiny, one hair at a time. My feet grew numb and my neck ached from sitting in one place for so long, but it did give me time to assess the situation.

Urat's retirement banquet had been five weeks ago. I had only seen him twice in the gardens and both times the former viceroy sat hunched over and bundled up to his chin in furs. The rest of the time he was known to be resting, if not attempting to sleep, in his chambers. His skin had turned gray and wrinkled as old parchment and the eyes had receded further back into his sockets. The Afterlife was calling to him. Yet Urat's withered body clawed itself back into the world of the living one day after another.

Lord Katom had been given some of Urat's duties and for the most part, he seemed to fulfill Pharoah's orders adequately. If he had two faults, it was a lack of originality and a preference for his own gain. He seldom was able to come up with solutions that pleased Pharoah, only echo others who provided good advice. Lord Katom had also made a rather blatant request to elevate his status such as requesting a better chariot for himself or asking to commemorate a temple ceremony.

Pharoah would begrudgingly fulfill one request or deny another depending on his mood. He did not show much approval for Lord Katom but at least the man could bring for forth documents and have them signed and distributed accordingly. And the bridges were being fixed and the black obelisks had been erected bearing the inscription of Pharoah Amenhotep.

That was as much as the gods could provide Pharoah during these challenging times. He was a restless man by nature who wanted things done immediately and efficiently, but delays were inevitable. No amount of offerings in the temple could make the boats bring stones faster down the Nile or have bricks bake sooner in the sun. He was forced to grumble his way through temple services and court sessions. I thought someone would be arrested, or even executed, if not for the presence of Queen Tiaa. Her gracious and calm nature took some of the dangerous fire out of Pharoah's eye and soothed his creased brow. Even in his bad moods, he would turn his head to her and give a nod or perhaps reach out and touch her wrist, as though her very essence was a balm to his soul.

I wish I had such a balm for my own soul. Three weeks ago, I awoke to a foul odder and found a rotten onion placed under my bed. Queen Tiaa accepted my adversity with coolness and had Yamun soak me in jasmine-scented water until it nearly ran out of my pores. I loathed to think of Ahti's next plan. It was a wonder Tiaa hadn't dismissed me from all these misfortunes but I tried to compensate for them by practicing my compositions, so that I could be of some use to her.

More than once I had thought of penning a message to Joseph, but I dared not attempt the risk. If that letter fell into Ahti's hands, the consequences could be disasterous. I was forced to comply, to be silent and patient and obedient for as long as I could tolerate the current circumstances.

But sooner or later Ahti would have to make her final move. Beka had cautioned me about this and advised me to be on my guard. But I needed to sleep at least a few hours each night to keep my wits about me.

"There. You are done." Yamun smacked my spine with her wrist. "Now dress yourself".

I walked out of the bathing house and back into the sleeping quarters where a fresh gown laid on my bed. I removed the towel from around my shoulders and donned the dress with diligence.

Lice-infested or not, poet or not, I was still the queen's maidservant. I would stand upright in her presence for as long as I could.

A-A-A

My blood moon rose in two weeks and made me so weary that I slept all afternoon. That night my body eased back into its usual state, but I could not sleep for hours. I lay awake in bed listening to the curtains flapping in the wind and the frogs croaking their melancholy words in the gardens.

I rose and took a shawl with me. Yamun snored loudly in the other room, so I tread carefully around her, picking up a scroll as I exited the wing and made my way to the center of the palace.

"Is the queen present?" I inquired a servant. He confirmed that she was sitting outside of Urat's room. "Ask her if she would like the company of her maidservant or to be left alone," I went on.

The response came swiftly. Yes, the queen desires my presence. I followed the servant to a long narrow chamber that ended in high blue curtains. They were made of flimsy material and through them I could see the outline of a bed and a figure stretched on it. Whisps of incense flew between the curtains and I could detect at least two other figures waving their arms over the bed.

The priests were preparing the final rites for Urat.

Queen Tiaa sat on a pillowed couch in the hallway. Her head was tilted aside and resting in her palm but she jerked it up and regained composure as I entered. I dropped to one knee and offered to sit with her.

"Yes, Asenath. That would please me." She commanded a servant to fetch a chair for me and I took my place on the other side of the hallway.

I began to unroll the scroll but Tiaa flicked her hand in the air. "I have no patience for poetry tonight," she said. "Sit in silence with me. That will suffice."

As commanded, I sealed my lips and folded my hands in my lap. The incense crackled in the bowls. Urat's throat contracted and strained for air. Tiaa's head was turned aside, allowing me to see her regal profile. Nothing had changed in her appearance, save for perhaps an unusually bright glint in her eye that shined out despite the dimness of the hallway.

"Master of the Dead, Lord of all the Underworld, we are in your presence," droned the priest. "May you have mercy upon Urat, son of Eketh, who has served Pharoah Amenhotep all of his blessed days…"

"Pharoah and Egypt will mourn him greatly when he is gone. And so will I, in my own way," she said at last, turning her head back to face mine. Both of her eyes were wet and brilliant now. The sight of the queen's pained face nearly scared me.

"Viceroy Urat has been good to me. I owe him much for the blessings in my life." She breathed out deeply and drew a palm over both eyes. The unshed tears were wiped away as swiftly as they had appeared.

"Do you know how I came to be queen of Egypt?" she asked me.

"All I know is that Pharoah saw you and chose you for his wife," said I. "If there is more then I will listen—if my lady is willing."

"I am willing. You have a gift for listening." Tiaa's spine arched as she drew herself up and began to spin me another tale.

"It was the Opet Festival in Edfu. We were gathered to ask the gods to rejuvenate and replenish our Pharoah, who had just won his second victory on the battlefield. I had just turned seventeen years old and was helping my father to distribute the incense at our largest temple. The crowd was much larger than I had anticipated. My father dragged me towards a wall and then hoisted me onto a table to prevent being crushed by the mob.

"Standing on the table, I could see the source of the chaos. There was a gleaming chariot drawn by two enormous black stallions. In the chariot was a man, or rather, a god in the body of a man. His face was beaming with life, the golden diadem above his brow glittered in the brightness of the sun. He was not smiling broadly with his mouth, but I could see in his eyes the glory and might of Egypt as he waved to the crowd. Everyone was screaming with delight, 'Long live Pharoah Amenhotep!' and 'Long live the sacred bull!'

"I saw Pharoah turn his chariot aside and then his eyes fixed upon mine, piercing and direct as an arrow aimed at my heart. I could not move or breath; his eyes would not let me move from my spot. The noise of the crowd died away until all I could hear was blood thundering in my eyes. Then the moment was broken as hands pulled me off the table and a path was parted through the throngs for me. I found myself before the chariot and helplessly threw myself down upon my face before Pharoah.

"I felt a hand come under my chin and guide my face back up to meet him. Again, the eyes held me and beckoned me to be still. Again, I was still as stone. Pharoah asked me for my name and the name of my father. Miraculously, I found my tongue and managed to answer his questions.

"He drew back his hand and pulled me to my feet. 'May Hathor bless you', he said before returning to his chariot. Then he drove away. I was left in a daze and remained feverish for ten days. Food had no taste and sleep no rest for me. My limbs still trembled from Pharoah's touch. All who encountered me asked me about the experience, but I could only babble like a child. On the eleventh day, my father and mother and I were summoned to Thebes. We were washed, dressed, and presented to Pharoah Amenhotep. We prostrated ourselves before his throne and awaited his command.

"'The spirit of my late father, Thuthmosis the Third, has spoken to me', he said. 'He has commanded me to choose a wife of my own liking and he will bless my house. From the moment my eyes rested upon Tiaa, daughter of Heper, I knew my father's spirit approved of her. I have spent the last several days with my counselors and viceroy who have confirmed likewise. Your family is of good status and your daughter has a pleasant nature.

"Pharoah rose from his throne and extended his scepter to my father. 'I wish for your daughter to become my queen,' he announced. 'But my queen must be willing. I will not have a feeble bitter woman sit at my side. If your daughter has conviction to accept Pharoah's hand, we will be wed. If not, depart in peace.'

"I scarcely heard my parents' chattering words to Pharoah. No doubt they were flattered at the magnanimous offer he had made. But I was overwhelmed, even frightened at the prospect. Who was I to become queen of Egypt and wife of Pharoah? I heard myself speak at last. 'My lord and king, your offer is far greater than anything I can imagine. If it pleases Pharoah, let me sit in the temple of Hathor for three days to ask the goddess for wisdom. At the end of three days, I will give my answer.' He generously offered me the temple and I shut myself in, refusing to meet or speak with anyone. My eyes flowed with water and my limbs creaked as I wept and prayed for hours, begging Hathor to give me council.

"No doubt I would be given wealth and pleasures beyond all my greatest dreams, but even as a girl I knew there would be heavy responsibilities in that future. I feared I was not up to the task. I feared disgracing my parents. But mostly I feared my future with Pharoah, unsure if I could love, let alone respect, a man I did not know.

"It was on the afternoon of the third day that I had finally fallen asleep. When I awoke, the red sun was burning in the shadows behind me, and the clouds were dyed pink and crimson with glory. Hathor had been silent but in her muteness, I had found my answer. Pharoah had requested my hand—not forced it. He had given me a choice. And in that moment, I realized the uttermost respect and honor he had given me. This was a man who had seen the Great Spirit within me; I had but to seek it within myself.

"I would become queen. I would walk proudly before all of Egypt, but my steps would be humble and dignified before my Pharoah and the gods. As the sun finally vanished from before the horizon, I walked out of the temple and into the waiting arms of my parents. I gave them my answer and they wept and blessed me. I was eighteen when I became queen of all Egypt and wife to Pharoah Amenhotep. I entered the palace of Thebes, only taking with me my wetnurse Yamun, who had been a most loyal and devoted companion in my youth.

"Yamun made herself indispensable and informed me of the kingdom's gossip. Some were pleased with Pharoah's decision while others thought it beneath him to marry a commoner. Urat was indifferent on the matter; Pharoah's pick of a wife did not matter so long as she was obedient. But when I informed Urat I wished to meet the challenge by drilling myself in the instructions of the court, he responded positively. He said it pleased him to see the queen would not be cowed into meekness, and such a demonstration of conviction would show Pharoah I was worthy of the high ranking bestowed upon me.

"Yamun aided me in my training as weeks grew into months. I listened to the protocols of the palace and practiced the respected manners and speeches. In the privacy of my chambers I paced up and down the rooms, teaching myself how to walk and move, how to hold my body in such a manner as befits a queen. Yamun would dress me and offer advice which gowns suited me best. She tastefully selected cosmetics to refine my face and picked out jewelry that would enhance, rather than cover, my limbs. My efforts paid off as my second year as queen approached. I was informed there was now widespread approval of the new queen who had adapted these elegant manners.

"But a new pressing matter weighing down upon my shoulders: an heir to the throne. For the first three years of my marriage, my womb was closed. Then a boy was born but he breathed only six days. My womb opened again but produced one daughter and then another. I burned cows to Hathor but she would not answer. Fear reentered my heart when I realized I could not give Pharoah what he needed the most. And when I heard his advisors suggesting he take another wife to produce a son, my heart nearly broke in two. Pharoah had every right to as many wives as he desired. I would still be queen, but I could not bear another woman usurping my role as his one and only wife.

"Urat intervened without my request. 'Great Pharoah is wise to be concerned with the future. But the queen is still young and strong,' he advised Pharoah. 'There is no need to encumber yourself with more wives. Surely the gods will bless her in due time.' Urat was correct and when I turned twenty-seven, I gave birth to our son Rekhmire. You may have seen him about the palace."

I had noticed a wisp of a boy, perhaps nine or ten years old, about the palace who was trailing after a tutor. The queen must not have a direct hand in raising her children; servants did that and kept them sequestered away. I for one would have preferred to have my own children nearby but that was not my place to say so. I could only respond to Tiaa's tale by agreeing that yes, Urat had been an outstanding viceroy and devoted ally to her majesty.

This time her eyes filled with water and I saw twin streaks run down the queen's cheeks. I offered to pour her wine but she denied it. "Salt water is all I can tolerate now," she said. Her fingertips touched her wet face and then she put them to her lips.

"Urat has worked long and hard for Pharoah. He deserves peace in the Afterlife. But my life will be bitter, for I am about to lose a companion and ally."

I could not think of words to comfort her, I just bowed my head and listened to her silent weeping. We sat there for hours until a hint of gray began to thread its way into the sky.

"The hour draws near. Osiris is at hand," the priest murmured.

Then I realized I could not hear Urat breathing or coughing. A hand slipped off the bed and something small and metal fell between the fingers and rattled on the tiles. The ankh cross lay on the floor, never to move again.

Nor did Urat.

A-A-A

Thirty days to tomorrow

I have yet not seen the sun

A sickness has invaded me

My body grows heavy, forgetful of self

No healer can sooth me, no priest can console me

Alas, the gold has grown dim

Alas, the silver has become tarnished

Wails and lamentations, tears and sorrow

My wise man and master has departed

How I wish to hear his voice, how I long to consume his wisdom

Alas, Osiris will weigh and judge as I met out the measure of my heart

The wise man's organs are divided, his limbs are embalmed

Let him return whole to the Afterlife

Let peace reign in the Afterlife

I laid down my pen and sighed with fatigue. Writing a eulogy is a strain on the body as much as the mind. This had been my chief occupation to fill the time while Urat's body was being embalmed. I hoped God would forgive me, or at least overlook my mention of Osiris in the poem. Continued work would keep me safe in the palace.

The master scribe took the paper from me and studied the words. "Adequate," he said at last. "Not your best, but it will suffice."

"Thank you, master. It was not easy," said I.

"One does one's best. Eulogies do not inspire the same emotions found in love sonnets or victory speeches, do they?"

"No, they don't."

"But they are just as necessary. However, I do suggest you edit this part about 'no priest can console me'. The high priest may take offense to that," he pointed out. The master scribe leaned over my shoulder as I scratched out several words so that the sentence now ran, 'no man can console me'."

"Generic, but useful." The master scribe took the scroll from me and rolled it up. "I will have a copy of this printed on the finest papyrus paper. It will be placed into a jar alongside your poem from Urat's retirement. Consider yourself accomplished, Asenath. Not many maidservants have their efforts placed into the tomb of a viceroy."

I could only sigh again. "No doubt you are fatigued," said the master scribe. "You are dismissed for the day. Go retire for the evening for at dawn, there will be a funeral to attend."

The funeral did take place the next day. I hardly remember the details, only an endless whirl of white and blue and gold. The sun baked over our heads and the sands scattered over our feet. Pharoah rode his fine-flanked horse while the queen was carried in a litter by six slaves. We maidservants followed dutifully on foot to the rolling hills outside of Thebes, near the Valley of Kings. There was no need to hire professional mourners, as Urat was loved and respect by all of Egypt. Cries and wails came naturally to us; I saw red eyes and heard sobs from the crowds that gathered the winding procession out to the tomb.

Before us was a narrow wagon pulled by four horses. Inside the wagon, Urat's golden coffin glinted with carnelian stones and lapis lazuli gems. The coffin head bore eternal eyes of the viceroy that stared serene and open into the sky. I hoped no fool would dare to violate his tomb or have the audacity to scrape his knife against the gold-flecked coffin. Perhaps the same fool would just lift the Book of the Dead out of its container and rub out Urat's name, all the better to sell it in the market. Would he lift my poem and eulogy out of the tomb as well? Erase the name of Asenath, daughter of Poti-Phera from the scrolls?

I watched Pharoah's horse stop in place. He uttered a command, and ten slaves lift up the coffin and began marching towards the black rectangle that was the opening to Urat's tomb. I shuddered and wrapped my arms around myself. He might be dead, but the thought of being sealed alive in a tomb haunted me.

Fear melted off, soon replaced with melancholy. I confess I was indeed sorry for the death of Urat, and what it meant to Pharoah and Tiaa. But I also found myself pondering curiously as I once did as a child. The gold coverings, the jeweled cups, the scrolls and linens, all the foods and tools that would be placed into Urat's tomb…all of these had been prepared for years.

Death, death, death. So much of our lives revolved around death. Was life not short enough to revolve around itself? If we were all to perish, could we not savor the moment to appreciate the joy of a budding flower, the birth of a healthy prince, or the smile of a Semite stranger?

I wonder what Joseph would think of all of this, I thought. He would likely disapprove of so much gold and stone put into these efforts. He never told me where his mother's spirit sits in the Afterlife. Does God watch over the spirits of the dead? Does He give them food and drink and provide for their needs? How does He judge them?

"What is the matter with you?!" I heard Ahti hissed behind me. "You look as addled as a newborn calf."

Yamun coughed as a message for her to be silent. But I felt someone kick me in the shins and then tug at my wig. I gritted my teeth. Indecency is one thing; misbehaving at a funeral is another. All I had to do was curl one fist and let it swing right up into Ahti's face…

"Osiris, our esteemed Urat has departed this world and is entering the Afterlife," Pharoah declared. "We ask he be judged with honor and mercy, for the services he has rendered us."

He raised his powerful arms upwards and with a cry and near anguish yelled out, "Praise Osiris!"

"We lower our hearts to Osiris, Lord of the Dead!" everyone called out. I made my lips form the words and let my mute voice bled into the chorus. I kept a silent prayer in my heart.

Urat was kind to the queen and she has been kind to me. God, please watch over him and let no man plunder his tomb.

A-A-A

Two months passed. Lord Katom signed and stamped documents for Pharoah. Sentences and rewards were doled out in the court. The maidservants and I followed Queen Tiaa as she greeted officials and accepted gifts from diplomats.

It was the seventh day and I had just taken a few precious hours of silent mediation within the depths of the gardens. I was returning to our palace wing when my heart began to beat uncommonly fast. A dry withered odor filled my nostrils, as though flesh was burning. Danger was drawing closer to my feet but it would be futile to escape it. I stepped over the threshold and parted the curtains.

Ahti and the other girls were sitting around my bed. In her raised hand was something that glinted in the late-afternoon light.

"What a fascinating amulet," she announced, twisted it one way and then the other. "I recall seeing something like this years ago."

Thick hot wrath oozed through my veins like heated tar. I took two steps towards her but three of the girls rushed forward and seized me by the arms. At Ahti's command, I was shoved to my knees and then pinned backwards to the floor. I struggled against their wrists and gnashed my teeth, but could not break free.

"That is not yours, you thief!" I snapped at her.

Ahti just dropped the amulet but held the chain so that it dangled over my forehead. "How do I know you did not steal it yourself? This is a foreign design, Asenath. I doubt any decent Egyptian smith would craft such an abomination. Perhaps you took it for your own sorcerous plans."

Another girl standing near Ahti wet her lips. "If that talisman is cursed, shouldn't we dispose of it?"

"I know what I am doing!" she snarled at the girl. "It is Asenath who is cursed. She has brought this thing into the palace and it has struck down Urat."

"You liar!" I shouted, twisted to get free. "Urat was already ill when I entered Thebes. I have had nothing to do with it."

"You deny your murmurings and whispers in the dark? You deny your crafty actions?" Ahti went on. "You slither away every seventh day into the green woods like a little serpent and are gone for hours on end. You compose secret incantations with the scribes. Surely this foreign amulet had fueled you with sufficient magic to strike us all down. You could even inflict the queen and Pharoah!"

The others squealed from her accusations. Jagged words stumbled out of my mouth, but Ahti had closed her ears to my words. I saw her toss the amulet to the girl next to her, but she dropped it upon my bed as though it was a living flame.

Menace thundered in my chest and ears as Ahti slid over me, this time bearing a lighted lamp that hovered and wobbled over my face. Hot oil! One drop could blind me forever. I lay alarmed and helpless, writhing beneath her sweet smile and cold eyes. I wanted to scream out, to call Yamun's name…yet strength died in my throat.

Ahti's hand clawed around my jawline, her nails digging into the skin of my chin. She wrenched my face back to hers as the other hand was still loosely clutched around the lamp. I saw the flame within it bob back and forth, a dagger prepared to strike. My spine arched upwards, struggling to break out of the grasp of this sham trial. I could feel froth forming at the corners of my mouth as my teeth snapped and scraped against each other.

"Confess, Asenath! Tell me which man gave you this amulet!"

No…No…No…

"Do you think yourself greater than us? Shall we bow before you, little priestess?"

"You cannot see Him. He has no mortal form."

"Fool! Whore! Strumpet!"

"And there was evening and there was morning—one day."

"Just give me his name, Asenath! Give me his name and I will release you."

"If you seek it, I believe you will find it."

"It was him, wasn't it? That filthy shepherd slave from the north gave you this!" she screamed with glee.

"To steal another man's wife is an abomination."

"I knew it! I was right! Your eyes betray you, sorceress! You both conspired to destroy us!"

"Your hand can only reach so far. The rest of your journey is up to Him."

"Coward! Brat! Daughter of a slave! Lover of slaves!"

"My name is….

"Accursed girl! Scum! Vermin!"

"My people…my people…"

My lungs instantly exploded with air, and I screamed aloud, finally wrenching one arm free from a girl's grasp. My entire body flipped over and the free arm flayed upward, smacking the lamp out of Ahti's hands. There was tumbling and falling, limbs banging against my head and nails scraping against my skin. My head collided back onto the ground and everything went black, then burning yellow before my eyes. I was aware of fresh searing pain and cried out, clutching at my right shoulder. Several drops of oil were hissing angrily on my skin.

Above my cries and the squeals from the other girls was a low mournful howl. I managed to lift my head up to see Ahti clutching the side of her head as she rolled back and forth on the ground next to me. A stream of foul words and fresh curses was still oozing out of her mouth. All was chaos and confusion around us until Yamun's voice boomed out in one thundering tone.

"SILENCE!"

I fumbled to my knees, still clutching at my burnt skin. The other girls had all flattened their foreheads to the ground. But Ahti continued to roll around like a blind dog, moaning and wailing at her demise.

A-A-A

"Disgraceful. Shameful. Dishonorable."

One by one, the curt words left the queen's red lips. We could only hang our heads in shame before her and listen to the deathly calm tone of her words. She sat before us in her ornate chair, each hand draped firmly over the falcon-shaped arms. The two fan-bearers behind her obediently swatted away any further flies that had dared to flutter in her presence. Their faces were unreadable as stone.

"It is unfitting for the queen's maidservants to behave so unruly," Tiaa continued.

My arm still itched from where Yamun had smeared it with grease and bandaged it up. But I dared not raise a hand to scratch it. Nor did I dare to lift my eyes to see Ahti, whose entire right side of her face was swathed in linen strips.

"I am immensely disappointed with all of you. It is clear to me that it is useless to keep you in my employment. Therefore, you will all be dismissed from the palace."

We all had to stifles our voices that rose up in alarm at her sentence. I pursed my lips together so that I would not cry. I had failed Joseph again. I could not entreat to Pharoah on his behalf.

Tiaa continued. "However, Pharoah Amenhotep's strength flows into his queen. His mighty judgement is tempered with mercy. I am not a vindictive woman. You are all owed some payment for services rendered. Yamun witnessed the entire scenario and testified before me what occurred. Therefore, the priestess Asenath will decide upon your payment—or if you deserve any at all."

She clasped the sides of her chair and rose to her feet. "Asenath, lift up your eyes."

I did so with a heavy heart. The narrowness in the queen's eyes and the tight corners of her mouth wounded me more than Zulekia's beatings.

"You will give me your response by this afternoon," she said at last.

A-A-A

As soon as the queen departed from our presence, two of the girls dropped to their knees before me. "Mercy! Mercy!" they chanted. One of them tried to seize my arm. "Forgive us priestess! Look with favor upon us. Surely you will discard Neith's contempt for us."

"Oh, leave me alone!" I cried back in disgust. I turned on heel and fled out of the room, running until I had reached my inner sanctuary in the tall reeds of the gardens.

I feel to the ground and dug my fingers into the rich damp earth. My breath came out low and deep, with dry sobs and moans of defeat. The path Joseph had planned so carefully for me had also bend and curved like the ones before it, twisting with unknown futures and forming stumbling blocks in my path. My fists balled up and I shook them at the heavens.

"God, why do You continue to challenge me so?!" I cried out. "Why!?"

I continued beating the air in a futile gesture as my stomach bubbled up with bile and gall. I wanted them all flogged. I wanted to pour hot oil upon them, strip away their finery, and make them walk out of Pharoah's palace with their backs bent in shame.

But that fate would fall upon my head too.

No sooner did I fantasize about punishing Ahti and the others then I recalled that shameful day when Zulekia drove me out of her house. How small, how pathetic and frightened I was that day. That terrible memory only added to my internal wounds, fresh and fat and ripe, like the grease smeared on my wounds. I despised Ahti, but I despised my memories even more.

No answer came to me as I asked my question again and again into the air. The reeds bent and bowed in the wind and brushed over my face. When I had exhausted myself of questions, I curled up in the shade and waited for my aching heart to calm itself.

I wish that Beka would appear, but he wouldn't arrive at the southern gate for another six days. What would he do in this circumstance?

Retreat, he would likely say. If it is inevitable that you cannot win, do not waste time or breath on futile endeavors. Remove yourself from the battle.

Once I had calmed myself down, I saw the logic in his wisdom. Yes, I must retreat. There was nothing else I could do now. I would have to leave the palace and think of some other option. But would Joseph not be disappointed, or even angry with me, if I returned empty handed?

But he was too honest of a man to punish me further. I knew his character and the wellspring of goodness within his soul. He would accept this setback with dignity and surely come up with some other solution. I had to focus on him, not Ahti. The more I considered the matter, the sooner my stomach calmed down and my head cleared. I sat in place weighing and measuring options until a conclusion came before me.

A-A-A

When the queen summoned us back to her chamber, a chair had been prepared for Pharoah to hers. His own fan-bearers had replaced the queen's too. A scribe sat at Pharaoh's feet with a pen to his paper, ready for dictation.

Pharoah looked intimidating in his red-and-gold striped cap and a kilt of paneled red cloth. I recognized his red cape that was now wrapped around his shoulders and clasped below his chin with a golden brooch in the form of a bull. He must have been furious to hear of the escapades from his beloved queen's maidservants. His brow was furrowed but his eyes did not flash fire just yet.

"Pharoah and I are here to pass judgement," announced the queen. "Tell us your response, Asenath."

"Yes, great lady" I said. My head inclined to both of them before I spoke further. I kept my hands clasped firmly to my stomach and did my best to speak in a firm clear voice.

"If it pleases Pharoah and Queen Tiaa, let each girl be dismissed with a suitable payment to sustain her adequately. This will confirm to all the never-ending power of Pharoah's blessed hand after our departure."

The scribe scratched away at his paper. The queen betrayed no sign of approval or discouragement. She merely starred at me and said, "What is this payment?"

"A donkey and she-ass for each girl," I said. "With some bread and meat to nourish us and flasks of beer to quench our thirst. Lastly, six copper pieces to commemorate the six maidservants who were in the queen's service".

I had weighed out and calculated the value of this payment. It would have been impudent for me to ask for something as grand as a horse or a chariot. A gift of gold or silver would have been impossible. But it would be equally insulting to make a meager request of bread and water from Pharoah. At least this would sustain us for some time, while the donkeys could be bred.

I watched the queen lean over in her seat and whisper into Pharoah's ear. He murmured something in return in such a swift low tongue that it was impossible to render his words. The scribe scribbled away frantically in his seat. The fan-bearers moved their staff up and down five times before the monarchs retook their positions.

"Let it be written and let it be done," she declared at last. "The request from Asenath of On has been approved by Pharoah and Queen Tiaa . The payment will be carried out as follows: a male and she donkey, food provisions, and copper for each girl…with one alteration. Each of your will receive nine pieces of copper. One additional piece for myself and double for Pharoah Amenhotep."

I hastened to close my open mouth. "My gratitude to you will last to the end of my days," I murmured to Tiaa.

The queen fixed her dazzling eyes upon me and I found it difficult to meet her face. But this time it was Pharoah who spoke.

"You should all remember the magnanimous gesture of your queen," he announced. "You may be foolish girls, but I doubt you are foolish enough to chock on your own arrogance and drown your gifts into the Nile." He rose from his chair and flicked the edge of his cape closer to himself. I had but one final opportunity before he departed.

"May I make one further request before Pharoah?" I added timidly.

"Speak."

My shoulders relaxed slightly. "I intreat Pharoah that we not be condemned with further shame lest it impact the queen's reputation. Therefore, let us be dismissed discreetly through the side gates in the afternoon.

Pharoah jerked his hawk-profile head to face his wife. Tiaa met his gaze with silent conversation. Finally, she responded with a smooth turn of her neck towards us.

"Let it be so. You will all depart the palace from the side gates after tomorrow's court session has concluded."

I sighed in relief and dropped my head to my chest.

My mouth felt bittersweet, as though filled with salt and honey. Surely Joseph would know what to do with the copper. And the food from Pharoah's kitchens would fill our bellies for some time.

But what would come next? What would I do?

There was always Weret and her husband. I did not fancy a life of cutting up fish in her kitchen, but it would be a roof over my head. Hopefully Eliphaz would not dare look for me in a modest little inn. Beka could still visit and offer counsel. And there was Setep, respectable accountant and keeper of records.

Perhaps Setep needs an apprentice, I thought to myself sleepily. Then my head rested down and night closed blissfully over me.

A-A-A

True to the queen's word, none of us were forced out of the palace during the court session. We waited until later that day to be dismissed one-by-one. I had seen a guard escort three girls to the side gates, each one handed the reigns to the donkeys who were laden down with bags of food. Each guard threaded a smaller bag through the girls' wrists. The copper would do much good and I was relieved to have requested it from Pharoah.

Ahti was more bitter than ever. "How thoughtful of you to make sure we don't starve on our journeys," she said sourly to me. "I hope our food bags aren't poisoned just to send us into early graves."

I looked at her swathed face. I starred her up and down. "What I did was for my sake more than yours. As Pharoah said, you can drown the donkeys in the river for all I care. But I have my own path to take."

"May it cause you to stumble and break your neck," she sneered.

I gazed at this woman who had be a screeching mosquito in my ear for months. But no longer did fear come over me. I saw Ahti for what she was: a cobra who tried to spit but had lost all of her venom. I could finally speak to her without worrying about the consequences of my words.

"Ahti, I doubt you will ever hear my voice again so listen carefully," I said slowly. "You once told me how often you thought of me and despised the memory of me. But I swear today that I have never thought of you during our years apart. And when we leave the palace, I will do my best to put you from my mind. I advise you to do the same."

"And what life will I have once Queen Tiaa has turned me out? Do you think I am going to ever sing again with this mark branded upon me?!"

Ahti ripped off her bandages. I winced to see the skin had puckered and wrinkled, angry red and flaking white where she had been scratching at her burn marks. It was difficult not to feel remorseful in the moment. When a woman's beauty has been marred, she loses a part of herself.

"Your wounds will heal one day," I said at last. "And your voice is still clear as a bell. If you sing in the evening lights, the gift of your music will overpower the scars on your face."

"Save your breath. I do not want advice from a prattling brat with self-righteous airs," she snapped at me. "By Amun-Ra, may I never see the likes of your again!"

Then she spit in my face. I felt a damp gob smack me on my chin and I starred in awe at this half-burnt hateful creature. The ghostly woman form within me began to stir again and I took two long strides towards Ahti, feeling energy swirling behind my eyeballs as though my very gaze could harm her.

Ahti instantly stepped back and raised up her arms. "Don't you curse me!" she wailed.

I did not move from my spot. But I let the strength of my eyes stare into her, just gazing at her and willing myself to overpower her spitefulness. Ahti could not meet my gaze—she dropped her arms and all but fled from the room.

It was the last thing she ever said to me.

A hand came to my shoulder and turned me around. Yamun looked down at me and wiped my chin with a fresh cloth.

"I have a bath prepared for you," was all she said.

A-A-A

I was concerned when no guard appeared with my donkeys after the other girls had departed. But once taken into the bathing chamber, Yamun informed me I was to dine with Tiaa and Pharoah that night.

I knew better than to ask her further questions, but I felt a fresh surge of gratitude towards the queen. She was generously allowing me to break bread before I exited from her presence. I must conduct myself as befits a maidservant of the queen.

Yamun had me washed and rinsed as usual, but this time drew out a slender bottle and rubbed the lovely fragrance of roses into my shoulders and around my ankles. A linen dress dyed the color of fresh grass was brought forth and I was helped into the rustling material. My old shoes were taken away; I was handed a pair of sandals painted deep purple and adorned with strips of silver. They were so beautiful that I admired their handiwork and cradled them in my arms until I had to put them on my feet.

Yamun's wet lips opened and closed when she examined my wound and declared it still healing. But a gossamer shawl was produced and drawn around my shoulders. Yamun fastened it with a dark-red carnelian brooch as big as my thumb and ordered me not to remove it. She also produced my amulet and draped the chain around my neck.

"All that fuss over a piece of metal," she muttered. "Well, it is your birthright. The queen wishes you to wear it in her presence."

Yamun escorted me out to a pavilion where a dozen guests were mulling about. Pharoah and the queen were seated at the high table framed with dozens of white and yellow lotus flowers. Pharoah seemed to be in better spirits tonight. I knew the fourth wall had finally been repaired and the last of the obelisks had been established in his name. He took long sips of wine from time to time, often leaning over to murmur into Tiaa's ear while his jeweled hand brushed over her wrist.

"There you are!" Pharoah called to me. He beckoned with a finger for me to approach the table. "Take this wine and cup and offer it to that Kushite with Pharoah's blessings."

I carried the tray of provisions over to the Kushite, a man nearly twice as tall of myself who had a gleaming bald head and beaded rings in both ears. He accepted Pharoah's gift and drank the wine while I stood nearby, carefully balancing the tray in place. The man finally spoke to me in halting Egyptian and we exchanged polite conversation.

"I am Geshem, son of Haten," he introduced himself in a low musical voice. "Is Pharoah always in good spirits?"

"His lordship's construction plans are back on schedule," I answered. "He is only displeased by incompetence."

"The queen is very beautiful," the man went on. "Do you know her well?"

"She is indeed fair and graceful. I have had the honor of serving her for more than a year," I answered honestly.

"Pharoah is fortunate to have such a mighty kingdom and such a fine queen," said Geshem. "My own king wants some of Egypt's best horses for his army and will pay handsomely for them. Tell me, servant of the queen. Will he sell them to me?"

I thought carefully before speaking again. "That depends on the payment of your king," said I slowly.

"We have many fine supple cattle throughout our kingdom. I am told Pharoah likes robust cows," said Geshem in a halting tone. "And we offer great herbs and roots that provided good medicine to soldiers. They take our medicine and are back on their feet the next day."

I began to inform Geshem that cattle did please Pharoah when a slave approached and murmured into my ear. I was commanded to return to the head table immediately. I bid Geshem farewell and returned to the table, where a cushion was set for me to the left side of the queen. She asked for wine, and I poured. She asked for bread and I had a slave fetch her small baked cakes from the kitchens.

Pharoah broke his own bread and crumbled cheese upon his plate. "What did the Kushite want?" he demanded. I gave over Geshem's requests and his offers of cows and medicine.

"Oh ho, so he wants my magnificent horses for cattle and plants, does he?" said Pharoah. "Well, Asenath. How do we know these magical herbs of his land really work? Tell me what you think should be done."

He was in all earnest, his glittering eyes fixed upon me. "Could the court physicians test the potency of these herbs?" I asked.

"Yes, they could. If they work, the Kushite king may have some horses. But what if they don't?" Pharoah demanded further.

Time in court had taught me the consequences of trying to thwart Pharoah. "Then…take the cattle offered and send the Kushites home empty-handed," I said at last. "They should not deceive Pharoah."

"A logical conclusion," said the queen. She instructed me to sit back down upon my cushion. I rested my hands in my lap and watched the evening unfold before us. Two fair youths appeared and sang regally before Pharoah. A man juggled four flaming torches to entertain us. The queen had one of my poems brought forward and read it to herself.

A plate had been prepared for me and I nibbled at the cooked meat before me. My meal was nearly halfway through when Pharoah leaned over to his queen and said in a loud voice, "Tell me, my queen. What do you think of your chief lady-in-waiting?"

I dropped the olive I was holding and quickly wiped my fingers on a cloth. My head turned right and left to see the fortunate woman who had earned this title—and mustered myself not to be jealous of her. But no one had entered or left the pavilion. My gaze returned to the queen…and then to Pharoah.

My spine instantly snapped back up and the wine in my cup trembled, but thankfully nothing spilled out of it.

"My lord." I dropped off the cushion and fell to one knee, senses reeling from the impact of his words. "I, I am unworthy of such an honor."

"Really? Think that the queen has made a poor judgement?" But there was now amusement in Pharoah's voice.

"The queen has decided to make you her right hand," commanded Pharoah. "You will examine her new candidates for maidservants and instruct them in the manners of the court. You and Yamun will obey her every command and carry out each request without hesitation."

The last heaviness in my heart had melted away; I felt light and free as a bird, exhilarated with the words he had spoken. And yet…

"Your presence has made an impact on the palace," said the queen. "Some for good, some for bad. But Yamun has testified to your devotion and the manner in which you have carried yourself through trials and adversity. You have bent like the reed but never been shattered. I am satisfied."

"As am I," declared Pharoah. "Recall your report, Yamun. What is it that Asenath said regarding my queen's pedigree?"

Yamun had silently appeared from behind me and spoke in a low husky voice.

"Her exact words were as follows: 'I could not admire Queen Tiaa anymore if she had been formed from the stars or respect her any less if she was molded from the dust."

My face flamed from the words. I could only stare at the torch lights leaping pink and red spots with glee before my eyes.

"There she is, the woman who speaks with her eyes more than her tongue," said Pharoah. He rose and clapped his hands for silence. "Honored guests, see this maiden before you?" he called out, gesturing to me.

"She was once Asenath of On, daughter of a high priest. Henceforth she is to be known as Asenath of Thebes, chief lady-in-waiting to Queen Tiaa, wife of Pharoah Amenhotep."

"Long live Pharoah! Long live the queen!" the guests rang out. They raised their wine cups in the air and drank to the royal family.

A servant came forward and extended a lacquered ebony box to Tiaa. She ordered me to stay on one knee as she opened up the box. From within the inky depths, the queen drew forward a silver circlet engraved with tiny bell-shaped flowers. My head inclined forward of its own accord as the diadem settled upon my brow.

Blessed with silver on my head and feet, I had been remade again. Asenath the handmaiden had been led away with the simple leather shoes; the woman kneeling was now chief lady-in-waiting to the most powerful woman in Egypt. My heart sang with joy after weeping with disappointment not a day earlier. Not one opportunity in a thousand could have come across an orphan, a banished ward, or a failed priestess to have turned out so well.

Surely this was the Lord's hand guiding me every step of the way. I reminded myself to be thankful to Him and praised Him in my heart. I asked that just as He lifted me up out of my sorrow, for Him to lift up Joseph from the prison. I had not yet served Pharoah for three years, but I was one step closer to gaining a boon from him.

After the banquet, Yamun showed me a new airy room that was to be my own. It was in close proximity to her own chambers and those of the queen, but I could still relish the delicious new freedom and privacy granted to myself.

She gestured to a table where I should place the diadem's box and ordered me to keep the diadem there whenever I was not wearing it in public.

"As I am as ugly as you are fair, together we make one competent woman," she told me. "I trust you will not be too proud to ignore my advice, oh favorite of the queen."

I attempted to counter her words with politeness. "You are not ugly, Yamun. You are…"

Yamun gave off a croaking rusty laugh. "I know what I am," she said. "But looking foul has its merits. Did the queen not tell you how I came to serve her?

"Yes, she told me you were her wet-nurse," I informed her. "And I do anticipate relying upon you for advice, Yamun. I have you to thank for raising me up high tonight."

"Heh..heh," she croaked again. "Me? I only see what I see and report back to the queen. You raised yourself up above the others. Or rather, perhaps the God that resides in your amulet did that." She pointed to the ornament resting over my heart.

"Perhaps," was all I could respond. But something still tickled in my mind. "Now that I am the queen's right hand, I hope I will not vex you with too many questions."

"Being lady-in-waiting gives you that right. Now you may ask me anything."

"Yamun, I have never seen you smile. Pardon me if it is not my affair, but I did wish to know if you experienced some misfortune, or if the queen knows…"

"No," she intervened. Her wet eyes glistened from the lamps around us. "The queen does know. A physician examined me years ago. I simply cannot smile. My face lacks the muscles to do so. Watch here: I smile now." Her cheeks clenched up, but her mouth did not draw back and up like other people.

"Do not fret or frown on my behalf, Asenath of Thebes," assured Yamun. "It is my lot in life to lack a smile. Some are worse than I and those are the ones who lack a leg, a heart, or a spirit. I cannot be fair or fine, but I can continue serving my lady all of my days. If you do the same by obeying Tiaa, then I will smile in my heart for the both of us."

I agreed to carry out Yamun's wish and bowed to her. This earned a third croak from the old woman who said, "Let your eyes smile for me as well. And let me give you one last lesson for tonight if you truly wish to heed to my words."

"I do, I do."

"Very well." Yamun looked wary and went on. "I do not wish to see you collapse in fatigue as the queen did that day of intense heat. You require full energy if you are to be chief lady-in-waiting. I will ask her majesty to give you a sabbatical every six days in order to replenish yourself. Is that satisfactory?"

I met her eyes for a long moment before responding to Yamun. "You are generous and wise. I accept your advice willingly," I answered her.

"I am grateful for your consideration and agree that one day to replenish myself will assist me further in service to Queen Tiaa. One day out of seven is more than sufficient for myself."

A-A-A

Five days later:

"Praise the Ancient One!" Beka laughed aloud.

I laughed too, still giddy from the recent surprise of my promotion. The warm sun's glow upon the southern gate mirrored the glow within me as I basked in Beka's admiration.

"Chief lady-in-waiting!" Beka repeated. He shook his head in disbelief, then nodded in agreement. "The Ancient One takes His time but He rewards well. I can see that with my own eyes now. The sunlight sparkles so nicely upon that silver crown of yours."

I lowered my eyes and asked him to cease the flattery. "If you continue to praise me too much, I fear I will become haughty before the queen."

"So come back to the gate from time-to-time and I'll give you a sharp rebuke to keep your arrogance in check," Beka chuckled. "Weret will be most pleased to hear this."

"Oh! Will you tell her the good news when you see her again?" I begged him.

Beka promised that he would. He added that she would be delighted to know her spirited little ward with the chattering tongue had been raised up high in service to Pharaoh's wife.

"Regarding our meetings to the gate, I do not think I will be able to come as often now," I told Beka. "My responsibilities will take up much of my time."

"You must obey the queen's orders first," he agreed. "But if you cannot be here in person, heed my words. Send a messenger to this gate once a month so that Weret and I will know you are well."

I heartily told Beka his advice was good in my eyes and I would send an errand boy once a month to him. Then I thanked the guard gate for his wisdom.

"Wisdom? Pooh! I offered a few words here and there."

"But those words help me climb to great heights," admitted I. "Will you not let me speak to the queen on your behalf? I am certain she could arrange for a better position for you."

But Beka remained stubborn in his convictions. "No, no. I have said it before and I have said it again: a man has his pride, Asenath," he repeated. "If anyone pleaded to the royal family on my behalf, I'd be no better than a snake slithering on his belly for an extra scrap of food. I remain at my post."

No amount of imploring or intreating could change Beka's mind. I gave a little huff of discontent, but he just chuckle. "Don't wrinkle your brown so, Asenath, or it will crease forever. Nor should you worry about my needs. Just keep yourself standing upright in the palace and I can bask in your glory."

"Only…." And for a moment the smile slipped from his face. "Only I wish your mother and father were here to see this. They would be proud of their daughter. Have you no recollection of them at all?"

My own smile weakened from his words. "No, none," I answered softly.

Beka swiped a hand over his mouth. "Come, come. Please overlook my carelessness. I'll not make that crease appear in your face! I just spoke in haste."

"Mothers and fathers all go to their tombs, but it is clear the Ancient One has a special plan for you. Keep that close to you when all other lights fail," he encouraged me.

A-A-A

Eight months later:

Six new maidservants stood in the open courtyard before me. Their slender arms were poised over their heads. They dipped their bodies to the right while their heads when left, then tilted in the other direction. Three girls skipped forwards and three skipped backwards. They sprinted up against each other and joined in a circle.

Ta-ta boom, ta-ta boom, went the two drummers sitting on the steps.

The circle rotated four times before breaking apart. I watched each girl unfurl a crimson banner and twirl it around her body. The drummers picked up the pace as the girls spiraled faster in their positions, each one a living flame of yellow and red.

Ta-ta boom! Ta-ta boom! Ra-ta-ta-ta-tatatata…

"Halt!" I commanded. The noise halted at once. Each girl instantly dropped to her knee and the banners melted at their sides.

I clapped my hands with pleasure. "Well done," I encouraged them. "You have all practiced well." With much chattering and delight, they all stood up and rolled the banners back into tight circles around their wrists.

I dismissed the drummers and instructed them to return for a final practice before dinner. One girl shyly approached me and asked if she had missed a step.

"Just the one before you joined the circle," I assured her. "But the day will be crammed with so many activities that I doubt it will be noticed."

"Oooh! But what if Pharoah does notice?" she squeaked in fear. "What if he has my head cut off?"

It took a few more moments to soothe away her anxieties. I first explained to her that since my time in service to the queen, no one had been executed for a mistake in a dance. Then I pointed out the more she worried about it, the more likely she would err in her steps. She would do better to keep her concentration on the music and the steps of her fellow maidservants.

"A small stumble will not hamper the day's festivities," I assured all of them. "Hold your heads up high, walk forward with confidence, and you will be magnificent."

"Thank you, thank you most honorable chief-lady-in-waiting!" they chirped happily.

I accepted their gratitude and told them they were dismissed until the hour before supper. "Be sure not to eat too much food or drink too much wine tonight," I reminded them. "You must keep your wits about you for tomorrow."

"Yes, my lady!" they exclaimed in chorus. The girls each nodded politely before lining up and exiting the courtyard.

My life as chief lady-in-waiting to Queen Tiaa was busy, even vigorous at times. But the routine gave me security and I was glad for a full and productive life. Yamun saw to her cosmetics and wardrobe every day while I made sure to have a count of the queen's clothes and accessories, taking inventory of everything so that we could be sure nothing had been stolen or misplaced. New gifts to the queen were documented, as were daily schedules of meeting with dignitaries or being present at court session.

My own hands and eyes would have worn out from too much writing, so an apprentice scribe had been given to me to help with dictation and essays. The new maidservants who had been presented to the queen first had to pass scrutiny from Yamun and myself. The girls had all come from respectable if not prestigious or outstanding Egyptian families—not unlike the queen herself. Moreover, they were between the ages of sixteen and nineteen so there was still time to shape them into suitable women of the court. One or two had been dismissed for a cheeky manner, but their replacements were adequate girls. I was now a woman over twenty-two. I wore Pharoah's silver upon my brow and my ranking was clear for all to see. The maidservants were obligated to respect me and in turn, I turned my ear to Yamun's suggestions and gave my respect to Queen Tiaa.

But today's preparations were for a matter even greater than that of the queen. Tomorrow, Pharoah Amenhotep would be stepping into his forty-fourth year of life. A full day of pomp and pageantry followed by a week of national celebrations had been in preparations for months now. My own services were necessary to make this celebration worthy of our king.

I leaned back against a pillar and sighed aloud, grateful for a few moments to rest. The scribe who had been sitting at my feet only now moved in his place, reminding me of his presence.

"Shall I send some refreshments for you, my lady?" he offered me.

"Thank you, Khufu. I am not hungry," I told him. "But I would like some water for my feet."

A servant was sent and hastily returned with a bowl of hot water. I sank to the steps besides Khufu and placed my feet in the water, then released a sigh of relief.

"I hope my lady's feet are not damaged from standing so much all day," he added.

I smiled back at him. "Perhaps I overdid it today. But much had to be done. I will rest a moment longer and then we must proceed. What else is on today's schedule?"

Khufu handed me one of his documents. "The boat master wants to see you before it gets dark. And the kitchens servants have asked for your input.

I took my feet out of the bowl and a servant wiped them dry. "I will see the boat master first," I decided aloud, slipping my shoes back on.

"Shall I not go with you, my lady?"

"That is not necessary. Go directly to the kitchens and get something to eat. You must be famished."

"Thank you, my lady." Khufu rose from the stairs and stretched out his legs. He gathered up his writing materials and headed for the kitchens while I made my way further down the pavilion, towards the marbled steps that kissed the Nile waters.

"Welcome, favorite of Queen Tiaa!" one of the boatmen called to me. "Come see the magnificent barge that the queen will sail upon tomorrow. Is it not glorious?"

He extended a hand to me and pulled me into the boat. It was every bit as beautiful as he had promised me it was. The entire vessel was sleek and narrow as a crescent moon with a gazelle's head carved at each end and shodden with pure gold. A checkered pattern of green and white squares ran below each gazelle while both sides of the boat have been painted with the Eye of Horus with dazzling bright blue paint.

He proudly pointed out the spaces where the oar-masters would sit, the seats where the maidservants and I would sit, and finally directed my attention to the lavish cedar canopy that would be spread over the queen's head. Completing the entourage was the sail he unfurled. Upon the canvas I saw two red eagles with outstretched wings bowing before a bull.

I complimented the boat master on his work and asked about any final repairs. "Pitched and tarred," he promised me. "This boat will float as light as a bubble upon the Nile."

I jumped up and down on the deck a few times just to make sure. The boat master and his assistant laughed. "You will need more weight to testify to our work!" he exclaimed. They bounced up and down loudly until I also laughed and assured them I was satisfied. Then he showed me the real reason for my presence: a hollowed-out space cleverly built beneath the queen's seat. Two tiny doors concealed the contents within and I exclaimed hearty satisfaction at the melons, gourds, and jugs of beer mixed with fruit juice placed within the chamber.

My concerns regarding the queen's health had reduced drastically. The drinks, along with a cool breeze and a canopy over her head, would surely protect Queen Tiaa from fainting on Pharaoh's birthday.

Satisfied with boat master's work, I then made my way to the kitchens. Khufu was curled up in a corner nibbling a tuber, invisible to everyone around him.

My attention passed over the busy servants before falling to a man leaning against the wall and whistling idly.

"You there," I called to him. He straightened up but seemed worried to be caught off guard. I would overlook his laziness this once.

"Khufu the scribe has labored diligently today in the queen's service. Bring him a good supper at once."

Aside from the diadem, I had learned to use the power of my eyes to command authority. I had also observed how Queen Tiaa could hold a person's gaze for as long as needed, perhaps only a few moments, until her message was received. So to my gold-flecked eyes flickered firmly at the servant who hastily set a plate of food and cup of beer at Khufu's feet.

"It must be delightful to be the queen's favorite," I heard someone whisper nearby. Khufu mumbled nervously through a thick mouthful of bread.

"It is best when all efforts are for the honor of Pharoah's court," I said aloud. Not even the gossiper rose his voice to me.

"I was summoned here for another task. Who is the man that requested my presence?"

"I am," said Menes. He approached me with a bow and familiar twinkle in his eyes. "Will the chief lady-in-waiting see our preparations for Pharoah's feast?"

A chair was produced for me; I sat as Menes and his crew rattled off their menu. Five types of bread had been prepared, including large crisp loaves and stacks of soft flatbreads. Menes assured me the flour had been sifted three and four times to remove all impediments. Nobody wanted to be executed on Pharoah's birthday.

Lettuce, radishes, and tiny purple onions had been plucked from the gardens. Tomorrow they would be dressed in olive oil and vinegar and served alongside bowls of mashed chickpeas. The geese and ducks were still clattering away in the pens outside, but they would be slaughtered and smoked at dawn the next day. One cooked duck had been prepared for my approval. I put a small piece in my mouth and savored the crackling skin that slid over my tongue. I had to refrain from gobbling down all of it while Menes described the fig sauce that would adorn the birds on Pharoah's plate.

I told him all was satisfactory and then the master baker stepped forward to proudly display her masterpiece. She had labored all week crushing nuts into a fine powder before mixing them with milk and butter. The mixture had been boiled down to a thick paste and then packed into round discs. Now the discs had been piled on top of each other and filed down the sides until a high narrow tower of confections stood upon the table. The master baker told me she would pour melted honey and fat over the entire tower just before it was brought before Pharoah.

"It looks impressive, but what about the flies?" I asked her.

"I have come up with a solution." The baker produced an oiled cloth and threw it over the tower. Then she drew it off and I saw not one disc had been lodged. I congratulated her on the ingenious technique but recommended she add some netting over the tower so that no flies would become stuck in the sauce.

She agreed to my suggestion and added in a whisper, "If my lady approves, we will start Pharoah's feast with the best yellow wines and some fried fish to accompany his bread."

My lips surely twitched with good humor but I agreed it was a good plan. I was too excited to eat more duck so Menes and his companions fell to it with relish.

"Is Asenath here?" someone asked from the doorway. "Pharoah bids you to approach his chambers."

I followed him out of the kitchens, only stopping to splash some scented water upon my cheeks and wrists. It would be offensive for someone of my rank to appear before Pharoah smelling of cooked meat.

The lord of Egypt was pacing up and down the chamber but stopped and jerked his head when I appeared in the doorway.

"You sent for me, my lord?" asked I.

"Yes, I did. Come take a look at this and tell me what you see." Pharoah pointed to a glittering object that lay on a crumpled piece of fabric. I followed his gaze and lifted the item up. It was a superb necklace composing of twin chains, each one holding nine tiny golden bees spread between beads of lapis lazuli.

"See! See! Pharoah exclaimed. He jabbed a finger at one of the bees. Squinting closer, I could see two of the wings were not fully formed as the others.

"It must be completed before tomorrow. Tomorrow!" he shouted. "And this fool of a jewel-smith has not finished his task."

It was only then I noticed a figure on the ground. His head was all but drawn into his chest; his face was unreadable. No doubt this was the unfortunate jewel-smith. I thought his necklace was outstanding, but one should not vex the king of Egypt further when he was this agitated.

"May I ask what this necklace is for?" I inquired Pharoah carefully.

"It was a gift for the queen. I had intended to present it to her at tomorrow's sunset banquet," snorted Pharoah. "I was going to renew our wedding vows."

The necklace trembled in my hands. I watched the harmless bees swayed and danced upon the chains just below Pharoah's black stare.

"And now her lady-in-waiting is using those secretive smiles upon Pharoah. Speak up! What is in your head?"

By now I suspected Pharoah was more restless than angry. Who could blame him? This celebration would have the eyes of all Egypt transfixed upon Amenhotep's brow. I was certain he wanted nothing less than to present himself as the noble and successful monarch who had led them all these years. The more he talked, the sooner his temper would bleed out of him.

"Forgive me, my lord. I did not know your birthday celebration would also include such a magnanimous gift to the queen…or that Pharoah was gifted with such a romantic spirit."

"I am not a romantic," he argued back. "Is that what makes you laugh inside?"

"I confess, my lord, that the laughter of joy takes hold me," I answered honestly. "Pharoah has selected an exquisite gift for the queen. I am certain she will be delighted to receive such a necklace."

"Perhaps she won't. Perhaps this fool should go straight to prison and I will give her this instead." Pharoah flipped open a box and took out a ring for me to see. It was set with a yellow chunk of a gem the color of wild honey but glowed with a heart of fire.

"It is a lovely ring," said I. "However, the necklace will be more visible for all to see."

"Hmm." Pharaoh twirled the ring in his fingers. "Yes, I can just imagine those bees glistening around the queen's neck as all admire her at the banquet…."

I stood quietly on the side and waited for Pharoah's verdict.

"You think much of this necklace, don't you Asenath?" he said at last.

"I do. The craftsmanship is outstanding," I told him. "It would be a pity to overlook this man's talent".

"Hmm." Pharoah threw the ring back in the box. Then he clasped both hands behind his back and stalked over to the man on the floor. "Lift your head up, jewel-smith. Now tell me if you can correct your labors."

"I will amend. I will amend!" the man cried out with relief. "Oh great Pharoah, I will labor all night without food or drink to have the necklace fixed! I swear by Amun-Ra, it will be brought to your chambers at the first light of dawn. If I do not do this thing, may Pharoah do with me as he fits!"

"Very well. On your feet, man. And make haste!" Pharoah commanded. "See that you present this necklace perfectly fixed at dawn's first light or else you will spend your days grinding stones in a prison!"

The jewel-smith gurgled out some words of relief and then gathered up the necklace and cloth, bowing and stooping on the way out.

Pharoah took the opportunity to caution me as well. "I will hold you to your word as well, Asenath," said he. "Everything must be perfect for tomorrow's festivities. Everyone must be perfect. As you are the queen's right hand, I am counting on you to make sure she is able to stand, smile, and sit by side throughout all events."

I bowed to my king and promised that I would do everything in my abilities to make the celebration live up to Pharaoh's expectations.

A-A-A

By the time I returned to my chambers, I was thoroughly worn out and famished. Perhaps I ought to have taken the duck, I thought to myself as I flopped onto my bed. My spine sighed blissfully to be resting against something soft.

But before I could have a servant fetch me food, Yamun ordered me to the queen's chambers. I groaned as I hoisted myself back up. "It will not be long," she assured me. I went with her to Tiaa's rooms just as three young people were escorted out with a nursemaid. No doubt these were the royal children, pampered and raised elsewhere in the palace.

Rekhmire, Pharoah's son, was a wide-eyed curious youth not yet ten years old. He threw me a quick smile just before he was bustled out. I had not seen much of him, let alone speak to him, so I could not say much about his personality. Yet he seemed a pleasant little fellow so I prayed he would follow in his father's footsteps.

Pharoah's younger daughter was a lanky gawky thing of twelve with a wheezy voice. I pitied the girl's plain features, but was hopeful she would bloom and blossom when her blood moon rose. I did not like the look of Pharoah's firstborn and eldest daughter. She had a bored haughty face with an air that reminded me of Zulekia; the one who believes even stones should be shaped to her will or else she had every right to scorn and sneer at the world. I hoped Pharoah would drum the insolence out of her before she received a morsel of power.

Tiaa was standing upon a small wooden table and turning one way and another while maidservants held up copper mirrors. "Is it chaffing, my lady?" asked Yamun. The queen assured her it wasn't.

The queen's celebration attire was a flowing gown dressed with three overlapping panels of starched linen extending over her shoulders. It was a simple yet elegant design but coming closer, I noticed her dress was not made of standard fine white linen but was shot with silvery thread that shimmered with every movement of her body. The material looked delicate as the web of a spider and lighter than clouds; the only fabric suitable to clad a queen.

Around Tiaa's waist were two sashes of blue and red, knotting just below her breasts while the extra fabric fell to her knees. The wide collar wrapped around her neck also consisted of blue-and-red stones and was clasped at her collarbone with a golden scarab. Upon the queen's head was a tall golden headpiece consisted of a single beaten circle of golden metal between two cow horns.

All who looked upon the queen would agree that Tiaa was the embodiment of the goddess Hathor, mother of earth and the morning star.

"I will wear this during the parade on top of my best wig," Tiaa announced. Behind her back, Yamun and I exchanged a concerned glance.

"My lady, far be it from me to contradict you," Yamun began slowly. "But in the heat of a crowd your headpiece will weigh harshly upon yourself."

"Agreed. Neither of us wish you to be experiencing discomfort on Pharoah's birthday," I agreed.

"I can tolerate some discomfort for Pharoah's glory," was her gentle but firm reply.

"Perhaps if the queen wore it on the barge instead," I began to suggest. At least the water would be cooler…

"No!" she cried out.

I nearly jumped from Tiaa's exclamation. It was seldom for her to appear agitated.

"Pharoah is expecting his queen to make a sensational display for all to see. Our citizens will not be able to see their queen up and close upon the royal barge," she declared. "I will wear it during the midday parade. My word is final."

Yamun sighed and closed her eyes. I glanced down and fumbled with my fingers. It was rare for the queen to get the better of both of us. She must have noticed this because Tiaa's voice dropped an octave.

"Why are you both chaffing against your queen's commands? Have I not planned my part in the celebrations accordingly?" she pressed us.

"Far be it from us to disobey you," Yamun assured her. "The queen's health is paramount to us."

"Us both," I echoed. "Forgive my boldness, my lady, I only thought of that fatal day during Pharoah's riding demonstration. If the queen was to experience heatstroke with the entire kingdom watching…"

I let my theory rest in the air for the queen to decide. She let out a reluctant sigh.

"I cannot appear without the headpiece. It was one of Urat's last requests that I wear it at Pharoah's next birthday." Her voice ended on a note of sadness.

Yamun rubbed a palm over the side of her face. "If you were to wear it with a shorter wig," she suggested slowly. Yamun's eyes slid over to me for help.

"Or perhaps no wig at all," I added. "If your majesty will but cover your head with a cotton cap and then put the headpiece over that, it may remove some extra heat."

Tiaa ordered a maidservant to bring her such a cap. She pulled off the long flowing wig and slipped the cap overly her scalp. Once the headpiece was back in place, she turned around twice upon the table.

"Very well. I will do it this way," she decided at last. "The head of Hathor alone will adorn me for the parade while the best wig will be worn upon the royal barge with my carnelian diadem."

Satisfied at last, Tiaa extended her hand to me and I helped her down off the table. She gave the maidservant her headpiece and slipped behind a screen to change out of her silvery gown.

"Does Asenath's dress need any adjustments?" I heard her say.

My own outfit lay upon the queen's couch. Yamun had already seen to it and the blue dress fitted me perfectly. It was woven in a honey-comb pattern and had been tailored so that all could see my slender ankles wherever I walked. Next to it was a heavy rope of carnelian beads that lay like a bunch of grapes upon the couch. With my sandals and diadem, I was sure it would be a good entourage.

The queen appeared from behind the screen wearing a simple brown robe. "Your dress looks well. That is good. What else?"

"Asenath needs her nails lacquered," Yamun added.

But my stomach instantly gurgled a cry of hunger. I clamped my hands over my torso and apologized, but Tiaa laughed kindly.

"Rise up early tomorrow to have your nails done," she told me. "Tonight, you need food and rest."

"Does my lady require anything else?"

"No. Yamun will finish for me. You are dismissed."

I thanked the queen and returned to my own room. After resting for some time, a servant finally brought me a hearty stew of cooked barley and shredded meat. I fell upon it with relish while examining my latest sonnet that I intended to read at tomorrow's banquet.

Something wonderful has happened today

All who listen must come and here

All with palms shall clap, all will legs shall dance

Truth is the sacred seal that makes us joyful

We wish to share will all

Fortunate is Egypt, blessed is Pharoah

Our joy will reach the heavens in song and praise

Cedar and ivory, iron and stone

They come together to build the kingdom

Who is this glory for? Who builds the future of our dreams?

It is for Amenhotep the Mighty Bull

It is for the Pharoah of flowing blessings

May his reign shine as the stars of the heavens…

Yes, I think it would do well.

But if there was a fly in my ointment, it was Joseph's current whereabouts.

Ahti may have been out of my life but I was still suspicious of someone invading my messages. So I had labored long over my words before having a servant deliver a penned letter to Beka by the gate. I asked him to see that it was delivered to the prison at Ombos where a tutor from my childhood was currently employed. The message read as follows:

To Osariph, former resident of Denderah. Peace unto you. Recall your services of scribe work for the late Potiphar, Steward to Pharoah Amenhotep, and recall those you tutored in your youth.

Be assured that the cedar tree you have sent to Thebes has taken root and now drinks of the Nile's blessing under the grace of Pharoah Amenhotep and Queen Tiaa. The queen's lady-in-waiting testifies to the beauty of the royal gardens and the divine shade provided by her majesty's flowers that she counts every seventh day.

This alteration of Joseph's name into standard Egyptian writing would throw off suspicions. And I was certain he would comprehend the full meaning of my words. I sent it off with a hopeful heart but Beka responded six weeks later stating the letter had returned from Ombos without a response.

At first I worried that Joseph was dead. But then Beka reminded me that prisoners were easily moved about, sent from one city to another if more hands were needed to make bricks or cut stone. Considering Pharoah's reconstruction projects, it was logical that Joseph had been relocated elsewhere.

Once calmness was restored, I could sense his spirit still existing on this plane even though I could not detect the exact place. But he was still in Egypt—that was definite. It would take some inquiries but I was certain one could sift through the desert sands until he found the foreigner with eyes as blue as Nut's sacred sky and hair like copper.

This goal could not be completed just yet. I had to be zealous in my labors.

It was known throughout the court that Pharoah's might was magnified on his birthday. The scribes had told me that on this outstanding occasion, Pharoah increased his benevolence with an open hand and outstretched arm. He had been known to give gifts to devoted subjects and even pardon minor criminals on this day.

If Pharoah extended his scepter to me...all dreams would come true.

I lay in bed with a satiated stomach and sleepily envisioned a new future for Joseph and I. After he would be pardoned, the queen would gallantly release me of my duties and the two of us were given permission to leave Egypt. We would ride upon fine horses through the burning dune hills and go up, up, up, into the land of silvery rain and sparkling snow.

And what would we see when we arrived? My sleepy thoughts painted a picturesque outcome. No doubt Jacob was young and handsome like Joseph himself; a tall stately man who walked with a steady step and had a bright merry eye. He must have a hundred shepherds to guard his numerous flocks in the fields while Joseph managed his father's accounts. Joseph had mentioned a sister; I hoped she would like me.

Jacob was obviously the king of a town that dwelled atop a hill. It was a small town, but finely-paved with white and yellow stones. There were wells in every street, curtains in every window, and children who laughed and played in the little lanes. The young king would ride out every day on a white camel and everyone would rush out to praise Jacob. He would dismount from his camel and rush to embrace his son, followed by much merriment throughout the town.

"God has returned my son to me. And He did it through you," Jacob would say to me.

Of course I would blush and humbly reply, "I did only what I was meant to do." Then Joseph would let the full brilliance of his eyes fall upon my head, people would bring me sweet flowers that grew in the wild, and the king would say...

Cease this! The woman's voice chided the quivering girl within me. Have you learned nothing in life about the bend in the road and the rush of the river? Be still. These things have not yet come to pass so do not force them to come sooner.

Only Pharoah's hand can redeem Joseph. And it is not yet tomorrow.

Yes, tomorrow. I had such hopes for tomorrow.

A-A-A

None but Pharoah's hands were permitted touch Pharoah's crown. From the moment Amenhotep removed it from his head, a slave rushed forward with an ivory box to accept the crown. It was safely carried back to the treasure room where guards would watch over it until dawn.

Amenhotep sighed and removed his necklace and rings next. How these damn ornaments pinched his skin! He'd prefer to go riding bareheaded and bare-armed all the time. But such was the price to pay for being a god.

Other slaves brought forth water and washed his hands and feet. For once he wouldn't have to listen to chattering reports all evening or sit through some tedious dinner where Lord Katom would prattle on about squeezing more prizes out of those accursed Jebusites. Amenhotep preferred a clear direct approach: tributes would be paid or plundering would follow. Only fools had time and breath to waste on discussions that went nowhere.

Delicacies were brought forth and he ate mechanically, hardly paying attention to the food on his plate. Men younger than him had perished; men older than him had withered away. To be forty-four years old with an exquisite wife and three children and head of a great dynasty…that was worth celebrating!

Despite his luxuries, Amenhotep was well-aware of the silken snare that had seduced many a king before him. He would not allow his mind or body to grow fat and stupid; both must be sharp as his sword. He had already heard murmurs of some spies of Ammon and Moab who had slipped through his soldiers' fingers. A rumor, perhaps, but it did not bode well for the kingdom if other countries knew Egypt had been ravished in a plague and was suffering from cracked walls.

This birthday celebration would reinstate Pharoah's glory and send a message to people far and wide. Egypt would not be overturned, not while Amenhotep drew breath!

Amenhotep waved away the rest of his staff. His evening preparations were only interrupted by the appearance of Tiaa, who was lingering in the doorway with one tiny hand resting upon the wall. Her large delicate eyes spoke of admiration for Pharoah. He drew himself to her as swiftly as a gazelle sprinting through the grass and wound his arms around her neck.

"Are you well, my queen?" he murmured into her ear.

"I am well," she whispered back. The heady fragrance of jasmine oil brushed over his face. Amenhotep's bare fingers found the back of her neck, her spine, and finally her ribcage.

"I have been thinking about my lady-in-waiting."

"Oh?" Amenhotep was disappointed. He had been thinking about his queen all this time. Her wonderful aroma was filling up his mind, melting away his frustrations.

"My thoughts have been focused elsewhere right now," he said, hands now cupping her hips.

"She will be nearly twenty-three next year. She ought to be wed," Tiaa advised.

"Hmm. You will need to find a replacement when she does," grunted Amenhotep. He guided his wife back to the wall and then planted a kiss upon her rosy lips. It was several moments before Tiaa responded.

"Perhaps she already has selected someone in her heart," she suggested quietly. "I know I did once."

"As I recall, I chose you first," Amenhotep reminded her. He kissed her again, this time fiercely fastening his lips upon hers. He would be damned if his queen kept chattering about her lady-in-waiting now! When he released her, Tiaa's eyes were dark and her breath heavy.

"That you did," she gasped. Only her fingers could touch Amenhotep's brow with minimal fear, a fear founded upon reverence and joined with devotion to her husband. Fingers traced his brow and cheekbones, his jawline and eyelids, and Tiaa finally let the conversation die out as her lord took her into his arms and kissed her again and again.

The thoughts about her servant with curious eyes turned towards a veiled God had melted away.

They stood in the shadows of the palace while the night sky opened up behind them and the moon began to rise in the dark fields.

Finally, they broke apart. Tiaa ran a tongue over her lips. "My lord, will you come to bed tonight?" she asked with hopeful timidness.

"I wish I could," Amenhotep said with genuine reluctance. "I must sleep in the temple of Amun-Ra. My purification begins at dawn."

Tiaa's fleeting disappointment did not escape Amenhotep. He seized her hand. "Tomorrow, my queen. Tomorrow I will be blessed with all of fathers' powers and I will lay Egypt's treasures-and my heart-at your feet".

He bowed his head and kissed his wife's knuckles. Amenhotep stood there for a long while after his wife had exited the room. He suddenly did not want to sleep alone in the temple. He had half a mind to march into his wife's chambers and merge the two of them into one.

Tomorrow, he reminded himself. Tomorrow will be she and I alone. Tomorrow night we will be one again.

Torches were lit in the temple and a couch had been prepared for Pharoah before the golden statue of Amun-Ra. Heaps of furs were piled upon the couch for his comfort. Wine and cakes had been placed upon a table for his consumption.

Amenhotep did not bother with servants tonight. He poured himself one cup of wine and drank it quickly. Then he poured himself a second and a third, sipping more slowly this time. The cakes went uneaten.

He looked up at Amun-Ra's solemn heavy body. The gold on the surface of the god danced in the firelight and seemed to make the limbs tremble. Amenhotep felt an expected flicker of emotion in his belly. He fought it back with a frown at the god. There was no need to be afraid tonight. The second son of the old Pharoah had served his gods with devotion throughout the years. His heart would be weighed and judged in all due time. Surely Amun-Ran and the spirit of his father would look upon Amenhotep with favor.

But for now all he desired was sleep.

Amenhotep put the cup back down upon the table. He stretched himself out upon the bed and covered himself with furs. The wine in his body was already spreading tendrils of heat throughout his head, slowly working down into his hand and feet. Yes, perhaps tonight he would finally get a full night's rest after all….

A-A-A

The wind cracks and breaks. It snaps and howls like a vicious jackal. Amenhotep blinks his eyes and coughs. He is standing in the middle of a barley field. The wind blows relentlessly over his limbs, threatening to knock him down. But he balls up his fists and digs his feet into the earth.

"I am Amenhotep, Pharoah of Egypt!" he shouts to the wind. "I am the Sacred Bull and Blesser of the Nile!"

The wind breathes over him, turning from yellow to black to red. From within the wind forms a pillar of sand that twists and writhes into the shape of a man. An old man with a long pointed chin and stern eyes. Fear claws its way into Amenhotep spirit as he stares at his father. Then he throws himself upon his face, surrendering to his fate.

"Why are you here?" he calls out. "Have I not served my people well? Why do you torment me if not stay in the Afterlife?"

His father says nothing. But Amenhotep knows he walks him to stand upon his feet again. He rises and lifts a hand to his face, but the wind finally dies down. He blinks the sand from his eyes and looks at his father. The old Pharoah remains mute, but uses a hand to guide Amenhotep down a path. His feet move without him knowing it and he is walking through the fields, over roads of rock and streets of bricks. He walks for what seems like months, even years on end. But Amenhotep never grows tired or thirsty, even as the red sky and black sun burn overhead. Perhaps this means he will be victorious; a sign of his determined strength that will outlast all threats.

At last he hears a familiar sound and finds himself standing by the Nile River. Amenhotep lets out a cry of relief. Now that his feet are dipping into the water, he knows what it is to be thirsty. He first thanks his old father for bringing him here, then cups water in his hands. He pours the liquid into his mouth and feels the rich damp relief flow over his parched tongue.

"Beware!" the old Pharoah calls overhead. "Beware, Amenhotep!"

From within the Nile, something stirs beneath the waters and then gradually emerges. Soft and ripe, sweet and strong does the cow march forward towards Amenhotep. It's gentle eyes and low bellowing sounds sing of peace and prosperity, of goodness and blessings. But no sooner does it appear than a thin crackling form appears next to it, a void that opens its jaws and devours the cow upon the spot.

"No!" Amenhotep shouts. He knows what this means; the void of black and devastation is the worse curse of all. Worse than the sword, worse than disease. The curse that outweighs all other misfortunes.

Hunger! Scraping sour relentless hunger that drives a man to madness, turns a prince into a slave! Vultures pick at the remaining bones and the empty fields moan in lamentation. It is a slow aggravating torture that screams in Amenhotep's ears. He is tormented by the sounds of men crying out for bread and women wailing because they cannot feed their babes.

"Is this my fate? Is it Egypt's fate to perish?" he cries to his dead father. The old Pharoah draws back into the Nile; the waters turn black as they rise into a single giant wave over Amenhotep.

"Tell me what I must do! How can I save my people?" screams Amenhotep. The wave descends upon him, crashing into the king and dragging him down into the depths of destiny.

A-A-A

"NO!"

Stones, not water, slammed into Amenhotep. His head snapped back up and flicked around the temple room. All was calm and peaceful. There was no wind, no screaming, no sight of an angry father.

But in his stomach was the lingering message of the dream. It swirled and sloshed around until he was ill from breathing. Amenhotep struggles to get to his feet, but the slightest movement left him overwhelmed. The thick heat in his stomach rose up into his throat. Amenhotep heaved and vomited upon the floor.

"Fetch the physician!" he heard someone shout. Two guards rushed forward and knelt beside him.

"My lord, are you ill?"

He wiped the filth off his mouth and finally spoke in a low rasp. "Help-me-up."

They managed to bring Pharoah to his feet and set him back upon the couch. He felt a thin film of sweat all over his body and shivered in the night air. "Water."

Water was brought forth. He rinsed out his mouth and drank the rest down. It cut into his stomach like a cold dagger, but at least his hands were no longer trembling. He sat quietly and breathing deeply, waiting for his wits to return while his servants chattered in the background.

"What?" he asked at last. "What did you say?"

"I meant to ask Pharoah if we should send for the queen," suggested his servant.

"The queen? No!" Amenhotep snapped. Determination was replacing his fear; he could feel strength returning to his body. Let conviction fuel him and guide him. He would not be undone tonight!

"What good will it do to disturb the queen's sleep? Let her be," said Amenhotep.

"Very well, my lord."

The physician came and tried to examine him, but Amenhotep seized the man by the wrist.

"It was not poison," he said in a low steely voice. "I know what I saw in my slumber."

"A nightmare?" suggested the physician.

"A dream," Amenhotep answered. "My father appeared to me in a dream with a message".

The physician and servants all drew back. Amenhotep's eyes sparkled dangerously in the dark.

"Death," he said aloud. "Death is returning to Egypt".

A-A-A

The next day:

"Hurry, hurry! Stop mulling about so!" Yamun barked. She gave one girl a smack on her bottom and the girl's eyes instantly filled with tears.

I was sure she would start bawling her head off, so I quickly intervened. "No need to be upset, just move a bit faster when you stand in assembly. But we must make haste. Your majesty?"

"I am here," said Tiaa. She glided into the room as smoothly as a bird descending upon the river, one hand carefully adjusting the clasp of her bracelet. Yamun ordered me to hold the bracelet in place while Tiaa finished securing it around her wrist.

"Asenath, your diadem is crooked," Yamun criticized me. I allowed her to fix that as well. She finally gave us all sweeping looks of approval before we made our way into the throne room.

Tiaa's silvery gown was still packed away in her dressing room. My own blue dress still lay upon her couch. As for the kitchens and boats, those were likely still in the same position as yesterday. Everything seemed to be held froze in a moment of time, uncertain of what would be and what could possibly happen.

It was already mid-morning when we had all been awakened by Pharoah's physician. The king had been disturbed in the middle of the night with a fever and aching stomach. A common ailment could have been treated if that was all it was, but something else had accompanied Pharoah's illness and that was a message from the Underworld. It was said to be worse than the feather omen Pharoah had received prior to the plague.

By the time we arrived in the throne room, Pharaoh was already seated and his advisors were bustling about the place. I felt an ache inside me to see my king appear so distressed. Though he was clad in his usual fine garb and ornaments, I was close enough to see his kohl-lined eyes were webbed with red cracks from lack of sleep. And though he was sitting upright as usual, his right hand was knotted up into a clenched fist.

The queen swiftly made her way to her throne beside him. "My lord, I am distressed to hear of your misfortunes. Are you still in pain?" she inquired.

Pharoah glanced at his wife. "I can bear it better now that you are here," he answered coolly.

"If only I could have been beside you last night to assist you," Tiaa exclaimed with warm concern.

This time he managed a faint smile and reached over to touch her hand. "There was no need for you to partake of my own misfortunes," he assured Tiaa. "These are Pharoah's burdens to bear, not yours."

With more resolution in his voice, he turned his attention back to his courtiers. "You have all been partaking of divination and necromancy all morning. Speak! I have given you several hours to do your work. Now give me answers."

A robed scholar with a bald head approached Pharoah. "My lord, I have consulted the Book of Night and examined it thoroughly. Perhaps the sky goddess Nut is displeased with something Pharoah has done."

"Such as?" asked Pharoah. The priest turned red and fumbled for an answer. "Well, ah, perhaps some measurement in the graneries has been counted out poorly or the usual sacrifice has been found lacking…."

Pharoah scowled at him. "Unless you can be more specific in reading the stars, hold your tongue man."

The scholar shuffled back to his seat. From a side room, I saw the high priest appear with two of his companions. Slaves rushed forward to bath their bloodied hands.

"We have slaughtered five bulls to Amun-Ra as you requested," announced the high priest. "I believe we have successfully built a bridge with the smoke to the Underworld to find a resolution to Pharoah's problem."

"Very well. State your solution."

The high priest threw a pinkened cloth back at the slave and drew closer to Pharoah. "My lord, it is inevitable that this message from your father is linked to your current construction projects," he explained.

"Recall the details of Pharoah's vision in the night. You witnessed ill cattle consume healthy cattle? A message from Hathor, I think, who is Mother Earth and watches all things that sprout from the ground. I believe they represent your lordship's outer walls that will inevitably collapse."

"But I have already fixed all eight walls," Pharoah said slowly through gritted teeth. "And I saw seven cows in the night. I saw them as clearly as I see you standing there before me. Clearly, you are either addled in your head or you do not listen well enough to your Pharoah."

The high priest turned a sickly shade of gray. "Beg your pardon, my lord. I will return to the temple and continue my prayers. This death omen shall release its grip from your—"

"Get out," Pharoah snapped at him. "And do not return until you have an accurate answer."

"My lord, I believe I know what it is!" said another priest excitedly. He rushed forth and bowed to Pharoah.

"The answer has been starring us in the face all morning. You said you saw cattle, did you not? Not bulls."

"Yes, they were cows," Pharoah agreed testily.

"Excellent! The use of, ahem, the female animals indicate a message linked to the women of Pharoah's life rather than the men. Now if had been bulls, the Book of Night would have indicated a military loss. I would suggest Pharoah would be capturing seven new cities while losing seven other ones…"

Pharoah made a sound in the back of his throat that resembled the growl of a wounded animal. The priest hurried on.

"But it was not bulls, as your lordship has confirmed. My theory is that your message be linked to the destiny of Queen Tiaa." Here he bowed to the queen. "I fear your own future is in jeopardy, my lady."

"How so?" demanded Pharoah.

"Is it not certain? Seven cows, hence seven further daughters that will come from the queen!"

"And the seven ill ones?"

"Now, ah…ahem! That must mean these daughters will…"

I looked at the queen in alarm. Her hands flew to her stomach and her face had become pale. But Pharoah's countenance was black as night.

"The understanding of my father's message is there in the back of my mind," he said in a low dangerous tone. "It is just beyond my reach, yet so close I am certain he wants me to grasp it. I will know when I hear it."

Pharoah placed both hands upon the arms of his chair and rose to his full height. "But since this court has been in session, no man here has spoken a word of truth!" he shouted at last. "You guess and speculate, yet you offer me no validation of these omens! Your Pharoah is tormented with the warning of inevitable doom. Why do the gods ignore my suffering?"

No one dared to answer him. Pharoah sat back in his chair and hissed between his teeth. "Until the message of my father can be decoded, all celebration plans are indefinitely postponed. Now go about your business and do not speak a single word unless it comes with common sense."

Meekly, everyone shuffled about their place and kept his or her head down. Even the queen dared not to intervene.

"I suppose this means we will not be dancing for Pharoah today?" asked one of the maidservants into my ear.

"Of course not, you stupid little buzzard," her companion hissed back. "How can you think of dancing when Pharoah is plagued with illness?"

The first one was sniffling again. I couldn't have her burst into tears before Pharoah, so I waited for him to accept a fresh cup of wine before turning aside and whispering to both girls.

"It is true that festivities cannot occur while Pharoah is unwell," I told them softly. "But we still have a duty to serve our queen prudently. If we carry out those responsibilities, it will be for the better of Pharoah and all of Egypt."

"Asenath, is everything all right?" Tiaa asked me. I drew to her side and murmured into her ear.

"The maidservants are disappointed they will not be able to entertain Pharoah right now."

"Yes, and I know they practiced so well," Tiaa agreed. "But this matter will take some time to untangle. Tell them to be patient. While I do not fully comprehend the situation, there must a reason for—"

"WHAT!?"

Pharoah had bellowed so loudly that the maidservant nearest me nearly crushed my foot. Ignoring the pain, I moved aside to see better what had happened. The cupbearer had been murmuring something to Pharoah but now hastily drew back with several bowing movements.

"Nothing, my lord. Forgive me a thousand times for my chattering tongue," he babbled. "I will not say—"

"You will speak," Pharoah cut in. "I command you."

The man wet his lips and looked around the room. Every eye was transfixed upon him. He meekly put his tray down before it could fall out of his shaking hands.

"M-my transgression is before Pharoah for all to see," he began. "You will recall how my reckless matter with the fly in Pharoah's cup caused me to be put into the prison house of Karnak, as I deserved it for my sin. Alongside me was Pharoah's master baker who had overlooked a stone in Pharoah's bread.

"We remained in the prison house for ten days to reflect upon our errors. On the eleventh night, each of us experienced a message in the night that tormented us until daytime. I meant to keep this to myself but was rudely intervened by a fellow prisoner. He was also the warden of the prison house; a slave who had been brought into Egypt years ago. The head jailer of Ombos had had this man transferred to Karnak last year for his ability to read and dictate words.."

My heart was suddenly beating fast within my chest. I could hear the strings and horns of music humming in my ears. Karnak was just outside of Thebes.

"As I said before, I tried to keep my affairs to myself, but this prisoner insisted on intervening and inquiring about my private thoughts. He asked so often about my welfare that I finally relented and informed him of my night vision, if only to have him leave me alone at last. Within this dream, I recall standing in the palace gardens and emerging just before a vineyard. Within my hand was the golden cup of Pharoah and this I lifted up to three ripe branches, crushing the grapes that melted into fine dark wine within the cup. I entered the palace and offered the cup to Pharoah, who accepted it from my hands.

"The prisoner did pause and fall silent, as though taken with a deathly countenance. Then he informed me that the invisible God of which he served had whispered a message into his ear and that he would share it with me. Three days from then, I would be lifted up and restored into Pharoah's court to lift the cup up to my lord's lips once again.

His name, I wanted to scream aloud. Tell me the prisoner's name.

"What of my master baker? Did he also have a dream?" Pharoah asked slowly.

"He did indeed…" the cupbearer said with a gulp. "Though not of the same outcome. He told the prisoner of his vision consisting of three baskets of fine bread stacked upon his head. He was walking along until great flocks of falcons descended and consumed the bread. The prisoner looked grave and informed the master baker that he would be raised upon the gallows in three days and his flesh consumed by the birds. The master baker cried and wept and the prisoner even wept with him, as though he regretted words that slipped from his lips.

"And so three days after your visions, both events came true," Pharoah said aloud, looking thoughtful. "I recall passing sentence upon both of you. The verdict was sealed one month after the Thoth Festival of Rebirth. I forgave you for your error but the master baker's crime had threatened Pharoah's life. He had been executed and you had been restored to your position."

You ingrate. You ungrateful cupbearer. You admitted you were never in Ombos but you never mentioned his name.

"So this prisoner's interpreation of your dreams came true just as you said? Three days before the sentences were carried out?"

"Yes, my lord. But surely it was just a fluke, an ill-given murmur of some foreign slave. He must have made the entire thing up."

Pharoah leaned back in his throne and rested his jaw upon his hand. He was pondering hard; his eyes were glittering with awareness. The cupbearer must have noticed this because he went on.

"Surely great Pharoah cannot even imagine such a lowly slave would…"

"Yet he read each dream and gave a definite outcome," said Pharoah thoughtfully. "I doubt anyone would be so foolish or fortunate as to fabricate such a detailed interpreation on the spot."

There is only one man I know who would be capable of such a thing.

Lord Katom stepped forward. "My lord, your cupbearer has good reason to speak in your defense. I must protest on your behalf for the good of Egypt. Recall the sacred traditions. Remember the centuries of protocol before you."

"What do you suggest, Lord Katom?"

"That Pharaoh discard the notion at once!" he exclaimed. "And have this foreign slave put to death for his insolence. Imagine the arrogance he must have to insist his 'divinity', if that is what he has, is blessed by something other than our gods."

Pharoah did not answer right away. He lifted his eyes upwards, as though waiting for a sign. Then with a brief sigh he looked at his wife. "And what does the queen say? Are you in agreement with my servants?"

I saw Tiaa's eyes widen and her features twitch. She would not let her words burst recklessly from her lips.

"The full matter is beyond my comprehension, my lord," she said at last. "Yet I see my Pharoah suffering before me and know I wish to do everything possible to relieve you of this burden. If such a possibility presents itself to us, however unusual, is it not worthwhile to at least consider it? Pharoah suffers no defeat by investigating this supposed dream-speaker."

The corners of Pharoah's mouth creased upwards. "Well said, wife. I am inclined to agree that nothing will be lost if this dream-speaker is brought forth. If he is a liar, he will be punished."

"My lord!" Lord Katom and the cupbearer exclaimed at once.

"Well, what of it?" Pharoah said at last. "Have either of you a better solution to my dilemma?"

"Anything is better than this—this infidel!" the cupbearer cried out. "He is unfit to stand before Pharoah. I testify today that I have seen this man and he is not qualified at all. He is inexperienced in the ways of the world; a youth barely thirty years old."

"I took the throne at age twenty," Pharoah replied dryly. "Thirty does not seem so tender an age to me."

"But-but he is also a slave," protested the cupbearer.

"So are many of my subjects."

"And not only a foreigner, but a heretic from the north," the man pressed on. "He is…is an Ivri."

The queen's hands dropped to her sides at once. She and Pharoah must have known what this word meant before they both sat up straight in their chairs.

Lord Katom nodded. "I see from the faces of Pharoah and the queen that you both know what the cupbearer speaks of. These Ivri speakers respect none of our gods; they claim all life and power flows through the One God of the world."

"I have heard of such people," Pharoah agreed. His tone was but a dry whisper.

"Then you will recall the misfortune these people and their God bring with them wherever they go. Recall the downfall of your sacred ancestor, Thuthmosis!" Lord Katom cried out.

Pharoah starred at him, then at his cupbearer. He looked at his queen, and even I received a fleeting glance but quickly glanced aside. It was not my place to speak out. A wrong word could bring disaster.

We watched the lord of the Nile rise again from his chair. He walked three paces to the right, then four to the left. He tapped his ivory staff into the palm of his left hand. Finally, he spoke.

"It is Amenhotep the Second, not Thuthmosis the One who rules Egypt now," he said at last. As he continued talking, his voice rose with growing strength and fire. "I have done nothing to offend an Ivri man or his God. That I will swear on my father's grave. I have nothing to fear if this man is summoned and nothing to lose by demanding his council."

He snapped his fingers and two slaves appeared. "Go to the jail house of Karnak and fetch the Ivri slave; this Semite who is warden over Pharaoh's prisoners," he commanded crisply.

Lord Katom was still in shock. "My lord!" he declared. "Think of—"

"Enough!" Pharoah thundered. He slammed a hand down and his cup crashed against the floor. Wine slopped all over the steps and stained Pharoah's robes like drops of blood.

"Bring me this man or I will have your heads!" he roared.