The General's Wife (Ancient Egypt)

by Sara R. Turnquist

  * * *

  “Thank you for seeing me,” Nassor said to his cohort as he was escorted into the living quarters of a house he had never been in before. “Is it safe for us to speak candidly here?”

  “Yes,” Fadil said. “My wife is out at the market and my children are at school.”

  As was his habit, Nassor glanced around the living quarters anyway, looking and listening for any sign of life. “Sefu has contacted me,” Nassor went right into it. “It is time.”

  “I see.” Fadil's reaction was difficult to read, but whatever the initial reaction was, it was replaced with determination. Was Fadil as hesitant as he? It was hard to say.

  “We must be prepared and in place to watch their movements with sharp eyes and look for opportunities. Especially her movements.”

  “And what is the plan?” Fadil asked, his face expressionless.

  “It's no secret your greatest value is in your familiarity with all the members of the mob. You seem to know how to find each and every one of us. There must be some link in that house, someone who may be willing to work with us.”

  Fadil thought for a moment. “There is someone I know of who is already inside, but I'm not sure if he will see things the way we do. I cannot be certain. Would it give us away if I approach him and he is opposed?”

  “Perhaps. Let us think if there is someone else. If not, there may be someone who is willing to help us at the right price even if they are not already aligned with the mob.”

  Fadil agreed that this was a good possibility. “I shall continue to think on the prospect of another person already stationed on the inside. Gahiji has been known to be quite...convincing.”

  Nassor nodded; Gahiji was one of their men. “Then we shall set him to finding a weak link to be turned. Only if you are not able to find someone already in place.”

  It was agreed between them that this was a good plan and that Fadil would speak with Gahiji. They also agreed that Nassor should not linger lest Fadil's wife come home early. The less they had to explain away, the better. So Nassor gathered himself and went about his way. He let out a deep breath. The first part of the plan had begun.

  * * *

  As the chariot drove on, Ismene got her first glimpse of Pharaoh Ptolemy's palace. If she had thought Alistair's home was large, she was in for quite a surprise. Pharaoh's palace was enormous even by comparison to the vast estate she would call home. It was comparable to the size of the city they had passed through. The wall surrounding the palace seemed to stretch for miles. And the gateway that greeted her stretched high to the heavens. Instead of having colorful paintings, the columns boasted statues of Pharaoh and the queen standing guard over the entrance to the palace. It was magnificent and overwhelming.

  They passed numerous outer buildings, some which were the size of Alistair's entire house. It was difficult to distinguish what they were, but she was sure they represented some of the same outer buildings on her own property—a temple instead of private chapel, kitchens, barracks instead of servants quarters, and so on. The chariot moved closer and closer to the main building which was detailed and ornately decorated with the finest craftsmanship she had seen thus far in Egypt. It was fitting, she decided, for the home of their pharaoh.

  The chariot halted by the main entrance which boasted smaller statues of Pharaoh Ptolemy and Queen Arsinoe plated with gold. They guarded the entrance again, looking down upon those who would enter their private abode. Ismene was intimidated, but she remembered who she was: the daughter of a nobleman, the soon-to-be wife of the highest general of Pharaoh, and welcome visitor to the palace of Pharaoh. She gathered her wits about her and entered through the main entrance, stepping into a grand vestibule.

  The vestibule blended into the main inner court. The ceilings were high, held up by huge pillars that were decorated with grandeur befitting the palace, and there was a small garden in the center, sporting mostly palms and ferns. The walls told stories of the Ptolemies' rise to power and of Ptolemy I Soter—his military conquest and how the people of Egypt embraced him as Pharaoh. There were also scenes of Ptolemy II's rule, his competence as a military leader and philosopher, and his establishment of the great library. Ismene had heard stories about the Library of Alexandria. Perhaps someday she would be able to lay eyes upon it.

  They were not waiting long before one of Pharaoh's aides came for them.

  “Lady Ismene,” the man said, approaching them. “I am Paki. I am to announce you.”

  Ismene nodded, then motioned toward Alonah. “This is my lady-in-waiting.”

  He nodded, but gave no indication that he cared. “Please follow me.”

  Paki led them through the inner courtyard and down a large corridor, decorated much the same as the courtyard they had just passed through. The walls continued to display stories in hieroglyphic depictions, and pillars lined the walls, holding up the massively tall, tiled ceilings. As they approached Pharaoh's court at the end of the corridor, two guards opened the large doors ahead of them.

  Paki went ahead, indicating for them to linger for a moment.

  “The Lady Ismene Gina of Athens, Greece.”

  Having been announced, Ismene and Alonah entered the great hall that served as Pharaoh's throne room. Pharoah's court was designed with white marble, boasting gold accents. The theme of the high ceilings with large pillars continued. In the center of the wall in front of her were two huge thrones. On one sat Queen Arsinoe. Behind her were three ladies-in-waiting, and to her left, seated in a chair on a lower level, sat another woman.

  The queen appeared in all the finery Egypt had to offer. Ismene was sure her shoulder-length black hair was a wig with her golden crown perched on top. Her face was painted with thick black lines over her eyes and some color in other places. It appeared as if the face paint was designed to angle her features a bit more, but there was no disguising her Grecian appearance to a fellow native. Ismene recognized her countrywoman right away. Queen Arsinoe wore a large gold Egyptian collar over a dress of fine white linen held together at the waist by a golden belt. She was beautiful.

  Ismene, with Alonah a couple of steps behind her, stopped a reasonable distance away from the throne. They bowed before their queen.

  She extended her staff to indicate that they should rise.

  “Lady Ismene, welcome to the palace,” she said, her voice smooth and melodic.

  “I am honored by your invitation,” Ismene said in a simple, but sincere tone.

  The queen motioned to someone in the distance that a stool be brought for Ismene and at once someone was behind Ismene, preparing for her to sit. Alonah assumed her place behind Ismene and to her right.

  “I wish to introduce you to the Lady Naeemah,” the queen said as she gestured toward the lady seated down a step and to her left.

  Naeemah bowed her head. This woman was Egyptian. Her features bore the same angles Ismene had come to associate with the natives of this land. She was also painted for the occasion and was lovely to Ismene's eyes.

  “Naeemah has been selected to assist with your education of Egyptian wedding customs. We hope she will serve you well.”

  “I thank you. I have no doubt she will be valuable to me,” Ismene said, smiling with gratitude up at her queen.

  Queen Arsinoe nodded, then leaned forward, crossing her legs and propping her elbow on them. “Now, tell me how things are in Athens.”

  This took Ismene by surprise, but she soon smiled and spent the next several minutes telling Queen Arsinoe the state of things politically and socially when she had left Athens. The queen drank in every word, commenting here and there if Ismene mentioned a family that she knew of.

  “I understand,” the queen interjected, “that you have a great love of botany and gardens.”

  “That is true.” How had this little tidbit of news traveled so fast? Was nothing a secret?

  “It would be my pleasure to show you through the gardens here on the palace grounds.”

  “That would be
a real treat for me, Your Majesty,” Ismene said, thrilled at the prospect.

  Queen Arsinoe rose, then Naeemah followed suit, as did Ismene. This allowed the ladies-in-waiting to then stand. The queen walked down off the dais to join Ismene before they moved out of the court room and back out into the corridor. They were flanked by Naeemah and then by all of the ladies-in-waiting. As it turned out, the corridor gave way to another interior courtyard that was only slightly less grandiose than the previous one. That courtyard led them to a passageway that took them out of the palace and into the lush green setting that was the gardens.

  This must be what a jungle looks like! Ismene thought, amazed at the variety of plant life and how mature it was. The garden was not overgrown, though; it was still quite well manicured.

  “The previous queen had a great love of gardens. This was her private sanctuary,” Queen Arsinoe explained.

  “What she accomplished, and you continue to keep up, is magnificent!” Ismene managed to get out after several seconds of stunned silence. Her eye did not know where to look first.

  “Please allow me to show you one of my favorites,” Arsinoe said, reaching out to touch Ismene's hand to direct her attention elsewhere.

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” Ismene said, pulling her eyes away from the massive plants with reluctance. She longed to just stare at the greenery.

  They walked a short distance into the garden to a patch of colorful blooms that Ismene had never seen before. One grouping that was of particular interest to Ismene was orange with black dots. She had never seen such a flower before.

  “These are some of the more prized flowers here—they are called tiger lilies,” the queen explained. “They were a gift from another land, so the former queen took the utmost care with their tending, and I continue to do so, as I appreciate how difficult, and quite impossible, they would be to replace.”

  Ismene dropped to one knee to better examine the flower.

  “Please,” Queen Arsinoe said as she raised a hand, inviting her to smell the rare bloom.

  Ismene drank in its perfume, memorizing its scent, cataloging it in her mind. She returned to a standing position and shook off any dirt on her toga.

  “If you so desire, I shall have a couple prepared to transplant to your garden,” the queen's voice said as if to a tune.

  “Oh, Your Majesty, I could never ask such a thing!”

  “But you didn't. I am offering.”

  “You are most gracious, but...”

  “Then it is settled,” the queen interrupted. “I shall have some bulbs prepared to be sent to your home. They will be in pots for optimum survival until you have a chance to plant them.”

  “To say thank you seems...well, it's not adequate for this gesture, Your Majesty.”

  The queen's smile was understanding enough.

  They wandered through the gardens for a while. It seemed like hours and mere minutes at the same time. As they reached the other side of the gardens, Ismene began to feel a familiar rumbling in her stomach. She needed food.

  “I know the garden paths can be somewhat confusing, but we are near where we entered.” She motioned to her right through some bushes where a door must be hidden beyond. “Just so you have some sense of direction here,” she said, smiling at Ismene. ”Because we have arrived at your rooms.”

  “My rooms are right off of the gardens?” she asked, pleasantly surprised. She had died and gone to Elysium. Not even Mount Olympus could tempt her with better accommodations.

  “Yes. Hearing of your love for gardens, we thought these guest quarters might suit you best.”

  “Your Majesty does not know the kindness she has bestowed upon me.”

  “You are most welcome,” the queen said. “And I hope that one day, we shall come to call each other friend.”

  “I would like that.” Ismene met the queen's eyes.

  “I will leave you here to get settled and rested before the evening meal. Someone will come to collect you in an hour.”

  “Thank you,” Ismene said, bowing.

  “Of course.” Queen Arsinoe then took her leave of Ismene, walking back out into the gardens and disappearing from sight.

  Ismene was thrilled at how her first interaction with the queen had gone. It could not have been better. She couldn't even imagine that Queen Arsinoe would be gifting her a rare bloom. And those gardens! How amazing! How splendid! Her heart still leapt for joy as her spirit was absorbing all she had just seen.

  Alonah cleared her throat, snapping Ismene from her thoughts. Spinning toward the sound, she saw that Alonah had opened the door to her quarters and was waiting for Ismene to proceed. Ismene's half smile was an unspoken apology for her daydreaming. She moved into the bedchambers.

  This room was built to coincide with the gardens that lay beyond. The gardens were directly connected to the inner bedchambers, while the outer chambers were connected to the rest of the house. It was a garden-lover’s dream abode. Large windows faced the gardens to bring them in and make them part of the room, but draperies covered the windows for privacy. Each corner in the room had potted palms and ferns to continue bringing the outside in. Even the walls had been painted with murals of branches, flowers, trees, and leaves. A large bed sat in the middle of the room with ivy growing up the posts and a blanket of greenery overhead. Fresh flowers adorned the side tables and the vanity. Ismene could not think of a thing she would have changed. She felt her stomach rumble again. Well, maybe one.

  Alonah came back from the outer bedchambers with a bowl of fruit.

  “I could have heard that rumble from a mile away, milady. There was some fruit left out for you. Please have some.”

  Ismene reached for a piece. Never mind...the room was perfect.

  Three

  Expect the Unexpected

  Alistair found it difficult to keep his attention on Captain Ptah as the man was giving him a rundown of troop maneuvers that day. When would these reports be over? Exercising the troops had gone long today and, of course, reports always seem to run long. Even more so these last few days. Or was it because Alistair was all the more anxious to get home? He glanced up at the sun in the sky. Frowning, he realized he would have already missed Ismene today. Strange that this should bother him so.

  Ismene had been coming to the house each day in the afternoon to check on the progress of a transplanted flower the queen had gifted her. She came without fail, but did not linger. So he would have already missed her. The disappointment was almost a tangible thing.

  It did please him that Ismene was enjoying her time at Pharoah's house. She and Queen Arsinoe were getting along well. As were he and Ismene. That pleased him too. Maybe too much.

  Alistair shook his head, turning his attention back to Captain Ptah just in time to hear the man's wrap-up. More than a little embarrassed to have missed most of the man's presentation, Alistair made short work of dispersing orders for morning training and dismissing the men.

  What was going on in his head? He needed to get past this. It would not do for this woman to fill his thoughts like this. No, he had a responsibility to Pharoah, his army, and to the whole of Egypt. They relied on him to be focused and ready at all times. A general did not have the luxury of daydreams. It was imperative he stay grounded and keep his mind on his job.

  Shifting from one side of the overlook that served as his office to where a large map of the kingdom was laid out, Alistair returned his attention to his final task of the evening. He looked over the map, reviewing where they had been reinforcing their borders and sending troops to relieve other troops.

  Just then, a large shadow was cast over his map. He glanced up to discover who would disturb him at this hour, mere moments before he was to retire for the evening.

  “Meleager,” he said, his voice even. He afforded the man but a brief look before turning his attention back to his map. “What can I do for you?”

  “Oh, I was stopping by to see how you were doing.” The intruding prince leaned over t
he map, peering at the troop alignments for himself. “Perhaps more troops near Macedonia?”

  Alistair glared up at him, letting a breath escape through his clenched teeth. Troop assignments and all military decisions fell under his purview, and he did not suffer the king's brother's interference as easily as Ptolemy did. They'd had this conversation on a few occasions. However, when his eyes met Meleager's, he saw only a genuine desire to help. So he made the proper alterations on the map. Sometimes, his advice is sound.

  “It must be such an inconvenience,” Meleager started in a large voice, walking around the table as if he owned the space. “Planning a wedding with the investigator in your home.”

  Alistair chose to ignore the bait. “All is well,” he said, trying to stay focused on his map. “He is doing a thorough job despite the staff's preoccupation, I assure you.” Alistair lifted one eyebrow as he raised his eyes once again to meet Meleager's leering face. “And the investigator in Pharaoh's house? Has he questioned everyone yet?”

  Meleager shrugged the question off, placing a finger on one of the figurines that represented a company of soldiers. “He is making his way through the ranks. Hasn't made it to the top yet, though.” Then a spiteful smile spread across his face. “Have you ever been questioned by a chief investigator?” Meleager made a gesture with his hand over Alistair's troops near Persia. Alistair pushed his hand away.

  “No, I can't say that I have.” Alistair sighed. He grew tired of this back and forth with Meleager. More than anything, he did not want to have the time for a conversation with the prince right now. What he wanted was to finish this and get home. “My Prince, please do not think you need to keep me company. I was about to quit for the night myself...”