“Thank you.” I removed the linen from my damp hair and let her arrange the pleats and select the jewels I would wear.
“Shall I wait up for you?” Mara asked when my last adornments were clasped in place. Her voice was raw, and I could tell she had been crying.
“Do as you wish. I am likely to be late.” I gave her hand a final squeeze and headed to the waiting litter.
The night passed without incident. It was a small gathering. Neferenatu did not attend. I’d heard from one of the nobles that he and his wife were hosting a party of their own, to celebrate the joining of Princess Therawejt to Snesuankh. Well, that was a mercy, at least.
The women’s table was crowded with a pair of languid, doe-eyed Kushites, a few ladies with pale skin not unlike my own, and many Egyptian princesses. These must be the wives of Amasis, and the daughters of royal houses, looking to gain Pharaoh’s favor. I sat next to an overfed woman swathed from head to toe in pristine woolens. Imagine my surprise to discover that this nervous, sweating creature was none other than Ladice, Amasis’ Greek wife. Ladice slouched miserably while the rest chattered in rapid Egyptian or picked at their platters of roast fowl, dates, and cool melon.
“Greetings, Star of Cyrene,” I said in Egyptian.
“Oh.” She peeped at me with huge brown eyes. “I do not suppose you speak Greek?” she asked.
“Of course, Princess.” I responded, affording her the rightful title of her position--one of many wives of Pharaoh who had not attained the position of Great Wife and Queen.
Like his predecessors, Amasis followed tradition and gathered many wives. It was common for politics, not the heart, to govern his decision to marry. He currently had five wives--the daughter of his predecessor Apries by whom he’d already fathered two sons, two Kushite princesses named Semihib and Ootma, the Cyrene princess Ladice, whom was given in trade after Apries’ unsuccessful rampage on that city, and a royal princess of Egyptian descent, whose belly was round with child and whose voice was so mild that I did not catch her name over the din. The wives lived in separate apartments, some at the palace, while other less favorite wives, like Apries’ daughter, were allowed to live elsewhere, as she had no interest in court games, now that her sons’ position, and thereby her own, was secure.
One of the Kushite princesses, Semihib, overturned a wine cup on the lap of a meek Egyptian girl scarce out of child’s years, and then had her beaten. Sweat beaded my upper lip. I must not seem weak or easy prey to these cultured vipers, bred for the beds of kings. How I despise cruelty! Only sweet Ladice fussed over the distraught young girl, while the Kushites smirked behind their hands. I recanted my original assessment of the awkward Cyrene princess and vowed to champion her, if I could.
Ladice was rumored to be unconcerned with politics. It was said she was most unhappy in Egypt and she appeared as lost and lonely as I’d been.
“We can speak in Greek any time you like, Princess,” I said, when the uproar was over, and the girl bundled safely off. I gave her a genuine smile. Her gaze wavered for a moment. What a discomfited, strange creature she was!
“Oh…oh! I am so glad,” she babbled. “I have been half out of my senses trying to learn Egyptian, but….” Her voice trailed away at an odd point.
I had no idea what she was addressing, so I smiled and nodded as if I understood and took a sip of wine to cover the uncomfortable pause in conversation. I was not about to point out that most of the court and half the citizens of Sais spoke Greek in varying degrees. Amasis himself had ordered the scribes to educate the people.
“How do you find Sais, Princess Ladice?” I heard someone ask in Egyptian. “Do you miss Libya?”
Ootma masked a malicious smile, when Ladice’s brow furrowed. Her lips moved as if she sought to translate words in her head, so I relayed the question quietly to her in Greek. Ladice’s cheeks pinked, but she gave my hand a squeeze under the table.
Her brown eyes filled with tears and her trembling lip reminded me of Mara. I felt a twinge of pity for her. She was only slightly better off than the poor wine-stained Egyptian princess.
“Oh…oh. I suppose Sais is nice.” Her voice was as flat as the sandy banks of the Nile. She gave away much with her tone if not her words. Ladice was not happy in Egypt. Perhaps it was only that which kept her safe from the plots of the Pharaoh’s wives, for I did not trust the Kushites to keep their pranks restrained.
“There are some lovely gardens near the temple, Princess.” I put my hand over hers. “I should be happy to show them to you.”
“You have been in Sais before then?” Ladice asked. “I…I thought you arrived on the barge with….” Her voice trailed off again.
I felt my cheeks burn a little. “I lived here some time ago.”
“I should like to accompany you to the gardens sometime.” Ladice’s quivering lips curved into a smile.
She appeared to harbor me no ill will. I don’t think I could make the same claim, if I should be in her position.
The entire court was in a frenzy over the conquests of the Kourosh of Persia and over who would eventually position themselves as Amasis’ Great Wife. For much of the people’s opinion of Pharaoh’s potency resided in his ability to master a powerful household. It had been speculated that perhaps the beautiful Therawejt would soon wed Amasis, but thus far, she remained promised to Snesuankh. I thought of her calculated snide remarks, and silently thanked the gods that Amasis had not thought to bed that coiled viper.
After the meal ended, I was asked to dance for the royal families. As there were many there who had not accompanied Amasis to Naukratis, I forced a smile to my lips and put my tired body through its paces. Three times I was called, and three times I danced with Amasis’ dark gaze weighing heavily on me, but he did not speak openly to me. After the third dance, the Kushites hissed at me behind their hands. Their eyes shot daggers at me, when Amasis wasn’t looking.
As the evening wound down, I moved restlessly through the clustered groups to the fresh air and solitude of the balcony. The moon bathed the garden courtyard below me with pale silvery light and the scent of jasmine and sweet mint scented the air. I felt a pang of longing to see my home, the familiar village paths of Perperek.
“I thought I might find you here.” Amasis joined me on the balcony.
“Nesu.” I bowed low before him. “It seems you always know where I am.”
“Well….” Amasis said and then just, “Well.” He chuckled.
I wondered what else he might have said. “Are you glad to be home?” I asked to fill the silence of the night air.
“Yes, I am now.” Amasis seemed preoccupied. “Rhodopis, I have heard of you.”
“So you said, Nesu, the other night.”
“No, not the rumors of Naukratis. Here. In Sais. You were the woman of Charaxus, the wine trader, yes? But you had another name then.” So, Amasis had spies everywhere. My heart pounded in shame, but Amasis fanned his bejeweled fingers. “It does not matter to me.”
I could not believe he would so readily dismiss my past. I felt frozen inside, as cold as the peaks of mountaintops in Thrace.
When I did not speak, Amasis nodded again. “It is of no consequence. I had another name, myself, once. It seems very long ago.” This news did not surprise me, as it was the custom of Egyptians to take a court name when ascended to noble status. It signified the attainment of a new life.
I’d taken a new name, myself. And though not royalty, it had been many years since I’d thought of myself as Doricha.
“Do you miss that old name, now that you have found another,” I asked, fighting for calm.
“At times.” His fingers clenched. “I was more certain then, of what was expected of me. Now….” he paused. “You saw them in there. The royal families treat me as if I were no more than that.” He gestured to the brass chamber pot tucked behind a huge potted palm in the corner of the balcony. “A vessel to be used.”
I blushed at his candor.
True, the roy
al families obeyed Pharaoh’s every command. They served him, but I’d seen the subtle slights, a too long moment before acceding to his request, the slight shortcomings of some of their deference. I’d heard the whispers of dissension and felt the tension coiled in the room like a mesmerizing serpent. It angered me, when by all accounts, Egypt was more prosperous now than in any time in recent recollection. Why should he have to fight to keep that which the gods had given him to rule?
“The chamber pot?” I laughed with a lightness I did not feel. “No matter the use, is it not the same metal we use to craft our effigies? Is it not as finely carved and deserving of its place in the palace as, say, the goblet that graces your lips? Why should it be considered any less?”
And why should he be? He was Nesu, the mighty Pharaoh of Egypt, regardless of his origin. A man who stood alone against the legions of Persia’s advances.
Amasis stared at me. I could not read the emotions playing across his liquid eyes. At last, a hint of a smile played across his lips, and he grasped my shoulders and pulled me hard against his body. I thought he would kiss me. Surely he wanted to kiss me, now. I leaned closer to him, savoring his warmth, his sweet almond scent. I parted my lips and waited for the feel of his mouth on mine.
It did not come.
For just then, his advisors came with their pinched faces to intrude upon our quiet conversation. I sighed with more regret than relief and felt my cheeks burn.
“Neferenatu has returned. Snesuankh and the Princess Therawejt have wed,” they said.
Amasis plastered a wan smile on his lips. “May they be blessed with joy and long life under the Light of Ra.”
My heart echoed his blessings. I felt his eyes on me as I made my farewells to the royal families and called for my litter bearers.
“Do not forget. The gardens? Tomorrow?” Ladice squeezed my hand. Her eyes were so filled with hope that I could not refuse her. I saw Semihib glancing at us and felt wearier than ever.
“As you wish, Princess.” I crossed my left arm to my shoulder and inclined my head in the customary obeisance for her station.
*** ***
Mara was waiting for me when I arrived home. I stumbled into my house, weary and sleepy from too much wine and too little food. I’d been so nervous I hadn’t eaten much, and I was much surprised I had not tripped over my own feet through the dances.
Mara fussed over me, helping me to undress and releasing my hair from its elaborate coif. She brushed it with soothing, even strokes. I sighed in pleasure and did not complain when she drew off her own gown and bade me lay beside her on her bed. Not when she kissed me hungrily on the mouth, over and over, until I begged for her touch.
Afterwards, her long fingers drew soft patterns up and down my sore limbs as I recanted the evening’s events--lonely Ladice, the scheming Kushites, the marriage of Therawejt and Snesuankh, my dancing, Amasis and the chamber pot. She giggled at my description of the fat, rosy princess sweating in her Greek woolens.
“She would do better to go home than to stay in Egypt,” she said.
“Yes, but I do not think Amasis would allow her to leave Egypt.” I answered. “Did you know that Apries sent him to attack Cyrene?” Mara shook her head. “Poor thing, her marriage was meant to curry favor between Cyrene and us, once Amasis gained the throne.”
Mara’s hands stilled. “Us?”
“Egypt is our home, now.” I propped my head up on my hand. “Do they not remind you a little of Thrace? With their fire, their passion…their beauty?”
Mara stared at the straw mattress. “I cannot say they do.”
“Oh.” I felt a twinge of disappointment, for I’d thought our hearts were more similar.
“Besides,” Mara continued. “You are far more lovely and graceful than anyone I have seen here in Egypt. Even with too much wine and not enough food in you.” She gave my nose a playful tweak.
“Oh, Mara.” I snuggled up beside her, grateful for her soft, warm body. My shoulders ached from dancing and my cheeks were stiff from the smile I’d plastered onto my face.
She smoothed the hair off my forehead. I listened to her breathe for some time before she spoke.
“Dori, have you ever considered leaving this place.” Her voice had lost its teasing lilt.
“Hmm,” I said with a half-laugh. “And where would we go, sweet sister? Back to Greece? Do you wish to return to the temple so quickly then?”
Her hand stilled. “No.” She bit her lip. “No, not there. But I do not know how much longer I can continue, Dori.” She shuddered.
I sat up and leveled my gaze at her. “What is the difference between these men and the temple ktístai? We were nothing in the eyes of Greece, simple chattel to be mastered and broken. We would not be proper women. And if we did marry, would you be content to live out your days imprisoned in your home?”
“You could be hetaera.” Mara said. “Why settle for Egypt when we could go elsewhere?”
“I’m not settling.” Somehow, the savage beauty of Egypt had wormed its way into my soul. “I’m happy here. You could be, too.” I sighed. “My beauty will not last forever, sweet sister. At least here, we have some freedoms. I will not return to Greece to become any man’s wife or concubine.”
“We could go to Lesbos, to the Poetess Sappho. You told me she has a school for girls there. We could be together, Dori.”
“No, Mara.” I stood. “She is as dangerous as Aidne ever was, I am sure of it. And I am no longer the girl I once was. Her way is not mine, but if you wish to go, I will not stand in your way.”
Indecision flitted across her face like shadows.
“Do you not love me?” she asked. Her voice sounded small.
“Of course, dearest,” I hugged her fiercely, inhaling the scent of her sweet skin. “But I will not give up my hard-earned freedom. Not even for you.” And I could not deny the strange attraction I felt whenever Amasis was near.
I watched her affection for me battle her loathing and wondered which would be the victor. Some long moments passed and she did not answer.
“This is not a decision you can make after an evening such as this. Think on it. I will abide by whatever your heart dictates you must do. But,” I said as I put my hand over hers to soften my words. “Do not think that I will go with you, if that is your choice. I have my place here, in Egypt. Though it may break my heart, I will not go.”
Mara’s bottom lip trembled. I wanted to kiss her, to soothe away the unrest in her soft cheeks, and to put my arms around her slender waist. Instead, I walked away and left her with an uneasy decision.
The next morning, I had her decision. She left a white rose on the chest beside my bed. I awoke to the powerful perfume of devotion and two simple words scrawled in spidery Egyptian on a shard of pottery.
I stay.
*** ***
The following day I’d gone to the gardens with Ladice, but she was so tongue-tied and uninteresting that it was nigh torture for me to think of how to fill the silence. After the umpteenth time of sending her servants for this sweet or a feathered fan, I promised to send an Egyptian tutor round for both her and Mara. Perhaps it would help my near-sister to receive the benefits to which I myself had applied. And for certain, it could only help the poor Cyrene, as one of Amasis wives. Ladice thanked me with the apathetic air of one used to needing extra tutelage.
The day was stifling, in her inner garden courtyard. No breezes blew, and the sand gritted beneath our sandals like shards of glass.
“You seem uncomfortable, my Princess. Perhaps you should try to adopt a more comfortable form of dress.” I eyed her sweat-soaked chiton.
“I could never clothe myself in such indecent….” Her voice trailed off, but this time I sensed it was because she did not wish to insult me. “Well, I have not the figure for it.” She gave a nervous laugh and swooshed the fabric of her dress back and forth. I could smell her body odor lurking beneath the multitude of perfumes she wore. “You are all swan-like grace in your…oh lo
ok!”
And she prattled on about a completely unremarkable olive tree. I could not wait to escape and take respite in my own courtyard.
I focused my attention on the blooming jasmine and nightshade, so vivid against the garden’s plastered white walls.
“Oh, Rhodopis. I’m afraid I do not know people to ask favors and keep my secrets in Egypt. It was not so in Cyrene. Before they came, my sisters and I would chase the new ponies into the surrounding fields…oh, such times we had together, there.”
“Cyrene is known for its fine steeds, Princess,” I said, thinking of my own stables back in Naukratis.
“Yes, it is. Indeed, it is so.” Ladice wiped her eyes and called for refreshment.
And that was the most interesting of our conversations that day.
*** ***
Over the next week, Ladice requested me to escort her around Sais three more times. Those next visits were filled with her blatant frustration at being in the royal court of Egypt, a marked sign of her uncouth trust in me, a fellow Grecian. I could not help but feel sorry for her, being raised on a mountainside with her horses and sisters, and then sold as a peace bargain to the very throne that destroyed her home.
“Oh...oh!” Ladice said when I arrived. “I am so glad you are here. I have wanted to call for a healer woman and none of them,” she gestured at her bevy of Egyptian ladies, “can understand me.”
“A healer? Are you ill?”
“Oh! It is only my woman’s time that pains me so. No,” she waved her pudgy hand back and forth. “No, I am not ill.”
“Well then.” I smiled. “It is an easy remedy.” I snapped my fingers at the Egyptian ladies who stood and bowed respectfully. Still, they were a trifle slow to respond and I caught their sly glances and covert smiles. “You there!” I said in Egyptian. “Shall I bring your name before our Great and Holy Son of Ra as lacking in your duties to your honored Princess?”
At that, their faces blanched. I ordered them to bring Ladice refreshments and a large fan to keep her cool. They crossed their arms over their chests and scurried away like rats, while Ladice stared at me with open-mouthed delight.
HETAERA: Daughter of the Gods Page 32