“Mara, no! You can live here. With me.” The very idea of slavery was abhorrent to me. I would not allow it, not for her.
“And make myself another burden for which you must ply your trade? Never!” Mara coughed violently and I waited until she took another sip of honeyed wine.
“You would never be a burden to me, near sister.” I stroked her soft cheek. It was true. Mara was as dear to me as my own life.
“Then let me stay under your protection. Do not free me. If not your slave, I can be your concubine, then. And I can tend you better than any of these dark-eyed strangers.”
“Mara!” I did not think of Egyptians as strangers. Not anymore.
“You must think of your reputation. There are places a woman of influence cannot traverse,” Mara urged.
“Fah! This is not Greece, Mara. Women have more freedoms, here. You will see. I am safe enough in Naukratis.”
“Just the same. I will stay as your handmaiden.” Her blue eyes filled with tears again. “Say you will let me, Dori. I don’t want to be parted from you ever again.”
I thought for a moment. Perhaps it would be best to allow this. It would keep Mara near to me, and we would be much happier together than we could ever be apart.
“As you wish, dearest. But for now, you must let me care for you.”
Mara’s eyes lost a little of their sadness. “I never knew you were so strong, Dori. I am glad for it.”
I found myself cursing the men who could injure her so, for this was not the Mara of my memory. It would take time to heal her, and in more than just her body.
“We will both be strong, dearest.” I whispered.
When Mara finally closed her eyes and slept, my shoulders ached from tending her. I left her slumbering peacefully, with what I hoped was a lighter heart.
My near sister was home.
*** ***
The following week, Pharaoh’s barge docked in Naukratis. After all my careful avoidance, it seemed I could avoid his notice no longer.
I was well-established as Egypt’s foremost courtesan by that time and made many offerings to the temples of Isis and Ra. I entertained in true hetaerae fashion, throwing elaborate banquets and feasts. I even hired a few reported poets and philosophers, though they were nothing compared to my Aesop. I bested them easily and my patrons loved me for it. I hired the best musicians, offered the finest food and drink, and toyed with potential assignations, which only made my would-be admirers work harder to earn my notice. Life was good for me. My coffers were full to overflowing. And yet I found myself strangely dissatisfied, for Mara’s words still echoed in my soul. There was something missing, some greater glory absent from my designs.
It would be many long weeks before I would discover it.
I did not go to the docks when the god-king landed in Naukratis, but I heard a firsthand account from one of my hired servants who possessed a flair for dramatic storytelling. As he spoke, I saw images in my mind’s eye--Amasis’ gilded barge, the attendants, servants, and priestesses posed in perfect formation around his throne. When they unloaded the vessel and Pharaoh retired to his prepared residence, the servant claimed every furnishing transported from the barge bore gilding of gold and electrum, and those that did not were encrusted with precious gems and costly paint. It sounded like Pharaoh was indeed a man who appreciated beauty and luxury. Well, I could not fault him for that which I, myself, held dear.
An invitation to Pharaoh’s welcoming feast came from one of my patrons, a Greek by the name of Praxitlytes, who traded in wool. And I, no longer fearing to be sold, found myself somewhat curious about this lover of Greek cultures, this god-king. Praxitlytes, my patron, was brash and over-concerned with gossip, as a young man can be when he has made a fortune early in life. And since the city could talk of nothing else but the festivities surrounding the Pharaoh’s arrival, even he could not keep his mind on our business.
“Praxitlytes, if you will not recline here next to me, at least stop pacing. You remind me of a lion trapped in the sand caves.” I eyed the servant who brought a fresh amphora of Grecian wine and motioned for it to be set on the low bench next to me. “How about a game of senet?” I stood and moved to the chest that housed my wooden board.
The object of senet is to be the first to clear the board of all your colored stone pieces. Even children can play, but there are trap positions and a deeper strategy at play on the board, for those who are clever enough to comprehend it. Praxitlytes did not, but I let him win often enough so his pride would not be pricked.
He whirled away from the balcony edge with his arms extended. “Rumor has it the Pharaoh’s welcoming festival will rival the Feast of Horus. It will be quite a sight! Say you will let me escort you, Rhodopis.”
“I will not. I have no desire to see this Pharaoh. The less notice he takes of me and my affairs the better. Besides, you yourself declare nothing rivals my own celebrations. The Pharaoh must not spend as readily as I, for he has an entire nation to govern, while I have only myself. Now, will you take wine or shall I call for beer?” I fiddled with the compartments of the board and released the game pieces, polished blue and black obelisks, into my hand.
“Ah, but you will have to make an accounting of all your affairs at the year’s end, now Pharaoh has passed his law.” He gestured for me to pour the wine.
“You are as ridiculous as you ever were, Praxitlytes.” The polished stone pieces were cool against my palms. “I don’t know why I allow your attentions.”
In truth, I knew very well why. I’d begun a fine stable of horses, on his gifts alone. And he amused me, in his own way. I liked his vigor and he did have a good head for politics. Though Egypt governed the city, it was the Greeks who controlled most of the trade that passed through Naukratis. And Praxitlytes was swiftly gaining influence, which could only benefit me and my treasuries.
“There is no hiding what you are, Rhodopis. I think half the city will not function, unless it is by your sway…well, at least the Greek half.” He reached out and stroked my shoulder. “You should make yourself known to Amasis. Come. Don’t make me beg you.”
I felt my cheeks heat. His invitation reminded me of Charaxus’ determination to display me before Amasis. “How you jest, sweet Praxitlytes, when I am in no mood for jesting.” I did not have to feign my displeasure. “You need not parade me before the god-king. Pharaoh has any number of desirable women in his court.”
“He has many wives, it’s true. And yet he spends so little time with them, his reputation as a lover of women is in serious jeopardy. Last week he prayed to his gods to give him a wife worthy of being queen.” Praxitlytes guffawed before he downed a huge gulp of wine. “Perhaps you can influence him, when others cannot. I’ve heard of his fondness for Greece.”
I snatched up my small feathered fan and waved it impatiently in front of my face. “He has Ladice, a Grecian princess to keep him company.”
“Ha, she has the face and figure of a pig! He will not make her Mistress of the Palace.”
“Then he is a fool,” I said. “The Greeks do not take insults well.”
“A fool? No…certainly not. He’s passed his law, where each man must report to his nomarch and make an accounting of his chosen trade. It’s a clever idea, for it keeps an accounting of where the nation earns its coin. We should do just the same in Greece, for I swear half the government would be forced to decry themselves as thieves and liars!” When I smiled, as I knew he wished me to, he slapped his knee and chuckled. “No, Amasis is less a fool than you or I might think.” He moved to my chaise and drew up a stool on the opposite side of the gaming board.
I’d heard rumors of displeasure circling the upper echelons of Egyptian royalty. I wondered if that is what Wakheptry had alluded to in her garden, on the day of my release long ago. “And what say the noble families to this new law?” I tossed the sticks and moved my first piece.
“Some approve. Others…well, they would not approve, even if Amasis paved their courtyards w
ith gold from the new taxes that will come of such a system. I’ve heard the nobility is in open dissent. There is talk of giving over to the Persian king Kourosh.” Praxitlytes moved his own piece and frowned at the board. “I don’t know why I play you, Rhodopis. You are sure to best me.”
“You play because like most men, you enjoy the challenge. Would not the nobility support the increase of their wealth, whatever the cause?”
Praxitlytes drained his wine cup in a gulp that would have left me, a Thracian, reeling. “There are some who feel Amasis is beneath them. He was a soldier. His family was not well connected. Even a lowly man can attain wealth and power in the army, if he is strong, but Amasis had no claim to nobility, when he conquered Apries. I think they resent him.” He frowned and moved his next piece into position. “He is certain to be unusual, my sweetling. Are you not the least bit curious?”
I sighed. “You paint a very compelling picture.”
“Then, you’ll come with me? Pharaoh will weep to see such beauty.”
So, the mighty god-king of Egypt was but a commoner. What did I care? My next toss was lucky. I made a noncommittal noise and moved a majority of my pieces around the board.
“Great Zeus, I’m losing before I’ve half begun!” Praxitlytes sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Come here, Rhodopis, I tire of this game.”
I stood and set the board aside. “How can the nobles recant his decrees, when they have declared Pharaoh is a god?” I moved to pour him more wine, but he waved me onto his lap instead.
“I do not know. You must take your dispute to an Egyptian.” His breath was heady with the rich scent of wine. Praxitlytes trailed a hand over my cheek. “For I owe my allegiance and good fortune to Poseidon’s grace.”
Perhaps Pharaoh was not as fearsome as I believed. My heart warmed a little for this soldier who was given a king’s power. He had much to overcome, if he wished to rule over the bureaucrats in Egypt. They who controlled the purse strings of the nation and could smite this former soldier without ever lifting a spear.
Praxitlytes’ hands cupped my buttocks. He shifted the position of his knees, spilling senet pieces off the board and onto the floor.
“Amasis must be a consummate game player to have withstood the displeasure of Egyptian nobility for so long,” I said, allowing him a healthy squeeze. “They can be as close knit as a pack of jackals guarding a scrap of meat.”
“Ha! Spoken like a true senet lover. Tell me, would you care to match your wit against the Pharaoh’s, lovely Rhodopis?”
It was an enticing thought. I am quite good at games, especially senet, which is deceptively simple. But such a meeting could not have a positive outcome, I was sure.
“I can only imagine Pharaoh would best me, as he does the rest of Egypt.” I feigned an innocent shift in his lap, and felt his body stiffen beneath his robes.
Praxitlytes’ eyes twinkled. “Come with me to the banquet and see for yourself.” His hands stroked the small of my back.
Well, I could not help it. My vanity and my curiosity were piqued by this bit of gossip, for all that it came from the boisterous Praxitlytes. What would the Pharaoh be like? He was once a soldier and thus likely to be fierce. An image of my father’s broad shoulders flashed before my eyes. It had been a long time since I’d met a true warrior, a man to rival my father’s memory.
“As you wish.” I slipped off his lap and stood. “But you must furnish me with jewelry and suitable finery to be presented to Pharaoh. I will not be seen in this.” I gestured to my outrageously expensive pleated gown.
Praxitlytes unwound my shawls and veils, loosened the ties of my girdle and let the cloth puddle on the marble floor with a whisper. “So be it.”
*** ***
Praxitlytes brought me a present in addition to the fine clothing and jewels he sent before the feast. Perhaps he felt guilty over nagging me into attending. Whatever his reasons, he presented me with a cunning little grey monkey on a golden leash. The monkey had a white face and quick brown eyes. I named him Kyky.
Mara helped me prepare for the feast in Pharaoh’s honor, for in Egypt, much status is perceived by one’s appearance and finery. Security could vanish in an instant if a courtesan was not careful, and I intended to keep mine for as long as possible. As Mara dressed my hair in an elaborate pile on top of my head--a thoroughly Grecian style--I sensed her unease.
“What is it?” I asked, admiring the long locks spilling from the top of my coif to halfway down my back.
“It-it’s just this Pharaoh. He is the king of this land.” Mara licked her lips. “What if he does not approve of you?”
“Why should he take notice of me?” I finished painting my eyes with kohl and white lead.
“How could he not?” Mara selected my finest golden necklace, the new one with lapis lazuli beads and tiny scarabs made of polished green agate. She let her hands linger on my bare shoulders as she clasped it on me.
I rested my hands over hers. “I am a courtesan, and nothing more. Pharaoh will have no reason to take notice of me.” I studied my reflection one last time in the large polished bronze disk. Egyptians love to adorn themselves, and I must admit I quite enjoy it myself.
Mara rolled her blue eyes at me. “There are few who can withstand your beauty, near sister. I am the least of them.” She kissed me on the lips. Her breath was sweet with thyme and mint. “You are as lovely as a goddess. Remember me, when the Egyptian king and his court are begging for your favors this evening.”
“Of course, my dearest,” I said, distractedly. For though I clothed myself in finery as light as gossamer, my heart was heavily weighted with more serious matters. “Mara, have you sent round the extra resources to the temple of Neit? I hear they have even more refugees swelling for charity. We should add them to my lists.”
It disturbed me to see men, women and children sold into the hopelessness of slavery, as I passed through the streets in my litter and trappings. I understood that economic circumstances required it, but I still abhorred the very practice. I’d vowed never to house a slave, and after Mara (who was less a slave than my shadow), I never had. So, it was that often I’d secretly made donations to temples that housed the low and indigent. And I used my burgeoning coffers to support physicians that I knew attended those who could scarce afford to pay.
“As you asked, I have,” she replied. “With a courier not from our household. I had Zahouri hire someone in the market that he knew to be reputable.”
“Hmm, “I said. “I would rather remain anonymous. Advise Zahouri not to use anyone who can be traced back to us.” Unlike my more public temple offerings, I did not know what this private support would do my standing as a hetaera. Still, if word got out, then so be it. I knew only that I must do something to aid those who could not help themselves, for I had been one of them--alone and unloved-- myself.
Kyky clambered up my shoulder quick as a wink and snatched a slice of melon from my fingers. Mara screeched at him. When he burrowed under my red-gold tendrils, I could not help but laugh, which made Mara a tad sulky.
“He will ruin your gown and void his bowels on your fine necklace.” Mara put her hands on her hips. “What will Pharaoh think of you then?”
The thought sobered me. I unlatched my adorable monkey with some difficulty, and although he did not void on my shoulder, he did entangle himself in my long hair. Mara was forced to redo the whole elaborate coif while Praxitlytes waited for us with some measure of impatience.
At last, we departed. When Praxitlytes turned towards the door, Mara kissed me swiftly on the cheek. I saw the crease forming between her fine brows.
“All will be well,” I promised her with a squeeze of my hand.
She looked doubtful, but gave me an unsteady smile which did nothing to allay my nervousness.
On the way to the festival, I fidgeted with my attire as the litter bearers rushed us to the god-king’s door. The feast was in full swing by the time we were delivered to the temple. With trepidation, I allowe
d Praxitlytes to escort me to the dining tables. Men lined one table, and women, the other in traditional Egyptian fashion. Egyptians and foreigners mingled freely, eyeing one another’s finery with thinly veiled calculation. I held my breath and glanced for anyone who might look the part of a god-king, but found neither clusters of sycophants gathered, nor any knot of royal guards in formation.
Praxitlytes noticed my preoccupation as we passed between the tables. He leaned over to make certain I heard him over the din. “Pharaoh has not made his appearance yet.”
I could not tell whether it was disappointment or relief fluttering in my breast.
We circulated through the thronging crowds. Furthest from the dais were the more common folk of Naukratis, higher levels of craftsmen and minor politicians, all hoping to gain recognition, and thereby increase their status. The next echelon was the lesser nobility, of which I navigated easily through a wave of their awed sighs, for I was well above their status, now.
Wives whispered behind their hands and eyed my attire. By the week’s end over half of them would have gowns and jewels made just the same. Several of the women even sported elaborate wigs. They imported henna from Assyria and rinsed it through their black hair. I supposed I should be flattered, but in truth, it was a poor comparison to my red-gold locks, and leant their copper skin no favors.
“May I come to see you tomorrow?” A man whispered into my ear. I tore my gaze away from the women. It was the governor of Naukratis. He was not particularly clever or comely, but he had much influence in the city.
“We shall see,” I responded with a smile, wondering what the governor of Naukratis might offer. Perhaps I could entice him to establish more support from the temple priests to help the sick and the destitute. Through the governor, support could be given, without attaching it to my name.
The governor rubbed his hands together and gave me a short bow, before moving away.
Praxitlytes chuckled beside me. “And so the sphere of Rhodopis grows,” he said without rancor.
“We are all whores in our right, Praxitlytes. Even bureaucrats.”
HETAERA: Daughter of the Gods Page 28