HETAERA: Daughter of the Gods

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HETAERA: Daughter of the Gods Page 37

by Coffey, J. A.


  “Nesu, for all my careful hiding of the other slipper, I fear it has been stolen away. I cannot prove they were ever mine.”

  Amasis breathed against my cheek. “No matter. The slipper at the palace will fit you, Rhodopis. The people will see this for themselves.”

  “But is it wise? You must think of Egypt. I swear for my love of you, the people will not hear of this from my lips.” I promised. “You are still free to choose another queen!”

  “You are more than the ‘Treasure of Naukratis’, Rhodopis. You are the ‘Treasure of Egypt’. No, the gods themselves have led you to me. I am certain.” His fingers stroked my cheek. “Come to the Festival of the Harvest, and don the sign from the gods. I shall put you forth as my Great Wife.”

  Could it work? Egyptians were a reverent people. My heart swelled. I dared not hope it could be.

  “Are you certain it is the will of the gods, then?” I asked. “And that is why you come to me now?”

  Amasis made a noise, low in his throat. “You question my ardor? I come to you like a thief in the night, to steal kisses from your lips and it is my heart you question? I know you, Rhodopis and now I would know your heart’s desire. What of you? Would you marry me now that Persia descends upon our nation like locusts? Our life will not be one of leisure. Would you give up your freedom for a marriage bed?”

  Freedom? It seemed a paltry thing, compared to exquisite feel of his hands on my body. His voice in my ears. All logic flew from out of my head. A vision of Amasis and I playing senet in our fine palace apartments flashed before my eyes. Our children leaned against my knees. Children with copper skin and grey-green eyes.

  What could I say, but that my heart cared little for the scourge of the mighty Kourosh? His armies may not touch me, but I could not withstand the barrage of my own heart’s longing. Amasis, a former soldier, would not appreciate such woman’s sentiments.

  “I am yours to command, always.” I twined my fingers in his and pulled him toward me as the sun broke over the sand dunes.

  I could see him now, a shadowy figure suddenly serious in the dawn. He moved atop me once again, his face scant inches above mine. “And if I ask you, not as your Nesu, but as a simple man? I want only truth from your lips, Rhodopis.” And he kissed me again.

  The whole of his body covered me, created a warm cocoon in which I felt certain and safe from harm. What did I care what the future held? I shifted in pleasure, and felt him stiffening against my womanhood. My thighs parted willingly and I wrapped them tightly around him, as if to shut out the world with my embrace.

  And I would, too. I would have him, for any reason.

  “You cannot be that other than what you are, Nesu. My answer does not change. I am yours.”

  Amasis laughed at that. “From your mouth to the gods’ ears. So be it.”

  *** ***

  In the morning, none of the servants acted any different, but Mara avoided me during our meal. I waited until the platters were cleared and my near sister and I were safely ensconced in my chambers before approaching her.

  “You seem out of sorts, Mara.” I kept my voice neutral.

  “I should say the same of you. Your lips are as red and swollen as grapes.” She dropped the lid of my cosmetics case and latched it shut. “What did you think you were doing last night?”

  “Mara, I’m sorry. I don’t know how much you overheard.”

  “Enough. How could you do it?”

  “I...I couldn’t help myself. I love him, Mara.”

  “You said you loved me!” The look on her face seared me.

  “I do, dearest. Ours is an affection long borne of a shared remembrance. You will always be my near sister. But...this is different.” I could see by the set of Mara’s jaw that she would not understand. As much as I loved Mara, her affection did not fill my soul. She was not enough. “There are things that I would share with him, Mara. Things that near sisters cannot.”

  “Like children?”

  I could not deny it. I had dreamed of such last night in Amasis’ arms. I stared at her without speaking.

  “Forget it.” Mara waved her hand. “Your face has blossomed like a rose in the morning dew. Here.” She thrust my combs at me. “I will be gone most of the day. I must attend Ladice’s preparations at the palace until evening.”

  “Mara, wait,” I called to her retreating back. She pretended not to hear me.

  She did not return to my household until the Festival of the Harvest began. Amasis planned to address the noble houses after the temple blessing; I was to attend and to try on the slipper before all assembled. In this way, we reasoned, the other royal families could not deny us their support.

  That afternoon, as I called for a litter to be brought, Mara startled me at the door, fully dressed in her best gown with a thin necklace of beads around her neck. Her eyes were red rimmed.

  “What are you about?” I asked. “You detest these celebrations.”

  Mara settled my peplos around my shoulders. “I won’t send you to the jackals alone, Dori.”

  “There is no need,” I said. “You cannot protect my heart, and that is all I am in danger of wounding. Amasis believes the people will follow.”

  “I’m coming with you.” She shouldered a small satchel and compressed her lips in a manner that meant she’d resolved herself.

  I sighed. “As you wish.”

  We arrived just as the Festival at the Temple of Horus had begun. Hundreds thronged up the temple steps to the center courtyard. The city was in high fervor as the yoke of invasion descended our shoulders. For the will of the gods was upon us all. Moods were made falsely light and easy between the sects and a unifying urge for safety precluded old disputes.

  As a favored guest, I was ushered to the front, nearest the entrance to the inner sanctum, where a dais had been raised. Mara trailed behind me like a shadow. Amasis sat upon his gilded throne, tapping his fingers on one knee, with the rose-gold slipper resting on a cushion in the hands of his royal bearer just behind. Torchlight gleamed along its fine surface, as if to beckon me forth. But decorum bade me wait until all of Amasis wives and half the courts should try it for themselves.

  So, I waited.

  I moved wordlessly through knots of courtyard conversations and the shadows of the immense columns of the temple. I tried to ignore the curious glances thrown my way. Mara materialized and slipped her hand in mind to pull me to one side.

  “Ladice wishes to welcome you.” She kissed my cheek and disappeared. I spied Ladice to the side of the courtyard with her back to me.

  “Flower of Cyrene.” I greeted her, kissing her cheeks.

  “Oh…oh, you are here at last!” She turned and gave me a fierce embrace. “How little I care for these things. Still, it’s all very exciting. Which woman do you think will fit the slipper? Anyone we know?” Ladice was an eternal court gossiper, despite her bucolic upbringing. Her dark eyes darted around the gathering.

  “I cannot say, my Star.” I replied, masking a smile. And I couldn’t-- unless the ceremony proclaimed me thus-- if it worked to secure the support of the people at all. Nervous flutters twisted my stomach to knots.

  “Whoever she is, she cannot be sweeter to me than you have been.” Ladice replied, squeezing my hand. “I wish it were you,” she said fervently. “You and your Mara, both. I do not care that Nesu Ahmose should bring another to the palace, as long as you say that you will continue to visit me, even after the Pharaoh has made his choice?”

  It was kind that she should offer me welcome, if Pharaoh cast me aside for his new queen. From the awkward Cyrene princess, it was a mark of her regard—a royal gesture, indeed.

  I bowed. “If it be the will of Nesu, I shall.”

  Ladice released me and took her place among the other wives of Amasis, to the rear of the dais. I wandered through the painted and bejeweled throng for an hour, searching for Mara who would be lost and uncomfortable in the sea of people. Neferenatu glared at me from his position on the dais. I tu
rned my back to him and smiled politely at the revelers behind me. When the foremost Grecian mercenaries appeared, I knew that Amasis’ announcement would not be far behind.

  The sistrums jingled and my stomach clenched. At last the moment was at hand. Amasis signaled and the Chief Steward brought forth a huge amphora filled with lotus wine for the assembly. Amasis stood and spoke a blessing to the gods. He smiled at me over the rim. Then the ceremony was over and he sat upon his gilded throne, the symbolic crook and flail in hand.

  “My people,” he began. “Many long days have I prayed to find a worthy wife, one who shall rule over the hearts of the people. Let the gods speak to us now!” And he signaled for his bearers to bring forth petitioners to try the slipper. A royal bearer held the slipper on a fine cushion.

  As the royal women were brought forth, each to have her turn, my mind turned to that day long ago in Hori’s workshop, when his hands had traced the lines of my foot. These will fit her and no other, he’d promised Charaxus.

  Well, I thought. It was truly so. For among the wives and princesses, the many royal women who were called and tried and failed, none could fit the slipper. Amasis scanned the assembly, and motioned again and again, until even the most minor nomarch’s daughter had tried and been found lacking.

  “Horus, Truth Giver, has sent me this sign.” Amasis cried. “Is there none who will come forth to fit the slipper?” And bless him, his eyes cut a sideways glance at me.

  Now. Now, was the time. I could embrace the opportunity the gods had given me, or I could hide in the shadows, afraid to make my own destiny.

  But just before I moved forward to try the slipper, Neferenatu, the Grand Vizier, stepped forward. “No! Not her! I denounce this as a trick and a lie!” And he stuck out his staff and tripped the royal bearer before I even drew near enough to be recognized.

  The slipper dropped to the pavestones with a jangle of bells and clatter of wood.

  “You seek to bring embarrassment to the royal women of Egypt!” Neferenatu hefted his foot and before anyone could stop him, smashed it down hard on the slipper, crumpling it like papyrus reeds beneath his feet. Someone in the crowd screamed.

  “Stop him!” Amasis shouted. Guards rushed in and took hold of the grand Vizier.

  I felt doused in ice.

  Amasis knelt, and retrieved the golden slipper, but it was clear that the treasure would never adorn any foot again. He spared me one tortured look. The polished acacia wood was cracked and splintered, the finely wrought gold dented and crushed beneath the vizier’s rage.

  It was destroyed beyond repair, as much as any hope I might have had of becoming Amasis’ queen.

  I knew now the wicked vizier plotted to usurp Amasis. My ears felt stuffed with wool, as Amasis shouted for justice. The royal guards took hold of Neferenatu’s arms and dragged him from the courtyard. The priests took up a hymn, chanting for the mercy of Horus against such blasphemy. I sank against the column, feeling my eyes well with tears.

  There would be no proof now. No way to show my worthiness to convince the royal houses to support Amasis’ choice. He must give me up, for the sake of all Egypt. To prevail against the Persian threat, it must be so.

  I had to leave, and now, before he made an enemy of the royal houses. For his sake and the sake of all Egypt, I would for once do what I should.

  “Mara,” I grabbed her hand. “I am finished. We must go.” I tried to lead her from the throng surrounding the dais. But my near-sister balked.

  Her face was white.

  “Dori,” Mara whispered, as I tried to push my way forward through the crowd, away from the dais and away from Amasis. “Wait!”

  She stopped and pressed something hard, half wrapped in a fine silk peplos into my hands. Something glimmered beneath her fingers, and my breath caught in my throat. I heard a member of the court next to me cry out in disbelief.

  The other slipper.

  “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I thought perhaps if I took it, we could be together. But you would not leave him, even when you thought he would choose another.” She took a deep gulp of air. “There are some things worth risking your life for. Love is the greatest of them,” she said. “I know now that you love this man, as much as I love you. I am sorry I took it, Dori. I am sorry for everything.”

  Oh, Mara! She wished only to leave Egypt, but for her love of me she had almost cost me my greatest desires. Time seemed to stop. We stood there in silence, holding hands around the golden slipper and watching the torches flicker and pop. For a moment, we were those same young girls, as alike as to be called near-sisters. I closed my eyes and replayed visions of us together in the temple, dancing, sweating and dreaming of the paths our lives would take. That is how I choose to think of Mara, my beloved, my near-sister. I could never believe she set out to hurt me.

  “Go,” she whispered. And the moment passed. “For remembered affection and my duty to you, Dori. Go.” And she pushed me toward the god-king’s throne.

  So, I left her there. The crowds quieted as I climbed the dais in a daze and made my obeisance to Amasis. From my prostrate position, I unwrapped my remaining slipper and placed the treasure of gold at his feet.

  “O Great Nesu. If I may restore what wickedness has stolen from you. Behold, the gift of Horus.” I said. “I present you with its twin.”

  Amasis froze. He might have been carved in marble. His face was a mask of disbelief. Then he bent his knee and with a single, deft motion, picked up the slipper. His strong fingers caressed the rose-gold surface, playing upon it as they had once played across my skin. Then he turned, and the corner of his mouth crooked upward in a smile.

  He held up the pair for all assembled to see they were akin.

  Two halves of the same whole. One damaged, and the other shining in its unblemished perfection. My throat ached with unshed tears as Amasis descended from his throne. He, himself, brushed the royal bearer aside and knelt before me to settle the slipper on my foot. The touch of his hand was splendid on my skin.

  “A perfect fit!” he announced.

  I raised my skirt and made a deep curtsy to the royal families, that all might see for themselves.

  The council of advisors began to whisper furiously.

  “It cannot be,” I heard someone exclaim. It sounded like Princess Therawejt. Someone shushed her.

  Amasis raised his head and scanned the assembly. “O People of Egypt, raise your voices. I call upon the royal families to heed my command. For the gods have spoken, and I would have this woman, this Rhodopis of Egypt.” Amasis looked at me and then scanned the council of viziers. “What say you?”

  There was a moment of utter silence.

  Then, from somewhere in the back, someone shouted a name. My name.

  Someone else took it up. And then many.

  A cacophony of calls swelled from the people like the tide. They chanted my name, calling for blessings, calling for me to honor them, in voices as pure and as piercing as the falcon’s cry!

  As the crowds swelled louder, I saw Chief Scribe Isesi nudge his wife. They knelt down before me. The royal nomarchs took note. And slowly, incredibly, impossibly, one by one, the court and council sank to its knees, with Ladice at the first, and Therawejt and Snesuankh at the last. They kneeled, some with honor, some with mutiny, etched in their features. But each head was bowed, lower then Pharaoh’s, lower than my own. Each forearm crossed over in obeisance.

  “What the gods have proclaimed, I will not set aside.” Amasis called. “Rhodopis of Egypt, I declare you to be my Great Wife. Accept the laws of Ra, of Isis, and of Horus and become Mother to all Egypt.”

  It was done. Egypt would hold.

  Before all assembled Amasis took my hand. He led the court out of the inner sanctum and the cymbals sounded our exit. We returned to the temple, to the commoners, the soldiers and the citizens who championed their god-king.

  *** ***

  Now that the matter was settled, Amasis and his troops joined the Grecian mercenar
ies and Polycrates’ warships to protect our northeastern cities. For a proclamation of Great Wife had inspired the people to fight for our Egypt, and the Greek city-state of Naukratis was would heed the call to arms. A fearful month passed before we heard the joyous news. Kourosh had fled. Soldier reports stated that there was some trouble on the far borders of the Persian’s domain and so the Kourosh turned tail and returned to his homeland, at least for now, to settle his own affairs.

  We planned to wed by the following season. I moved into the palace with the other wives and princesses. Ladice was pleased to have me, although I daresay she was happier to have the company of Mara, who moved into the palace with me. Our troubles were now forgotten and my near-sister seemed at peace with our new situation.

  Amasis returned home to me, a weary warrior, but rejoicing at the passion between us. I spent many days and nights bringing him welcome, not for my duty but for the sake of my own heart. I moved through the halls of the palace in a haze of joy. Me, who feared once to belong to any man, to give up my freedom for the slavery of a marriage bed.

  I realized then that to live free is not so much about the bands around one’s wrists, but to live by the dictates of one’s heart. I would no longer dwell on what could be, for what soul can say where her path may lead? Today we were safe from the threat of invasion, but tomorrow everything I loved could turn to dust. I need not be bound by the choices that others made for me, but by the opportunities that were offered to me. Such was true freedom for a woman. And freedom, for me, was Amasis and Egypt.

  Amasis and I were married with much pageantry by the Inundation season. It was a good choice, a time when the land is fertile.

  During the ceremony, I bowed my head, so that I would not be shamed by the tears that wet my cheeks. The red gold curtain of my hair hid my burning cheeks, until Amasis tipped my chin and forced me to meet his gaze. With pride, I thrust my chin as high as a priestess and spoke the words that bound me to him and to Egypt forever.

  Thus did a Thracian slave become Queen of Egypt.

 

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