“Shouldn’t we be heading to the heated baths, my lady?” Akila asked, her brows tucked in a most thorough frown. “There is barely time to complete all the beauty treatments before the banquet begins.”
She was hinting at the late start we had gotten due to my oversleeping. But I had lain awake many nights pondering Solomon’s unnerving question about his creator and my Bastet. Our differences of faith would surely stop my father from ever considering an alliance, though rumors still set my heart astir.
I leaned close to Akila’s ear. “Has there been any news?”
Akila shook her head. She knew my meaning, as we had discussed the possibility since the moment my mother came striding into my rooms the week before.
“Have you bewitched your father with some strange magic?” Mother sank onto my cushions, her expression clearly troubled. “He is talking nonsense, and just tonight he suggested we make a marriage alliance with this foreign king!” She skewered me with her pointed look. “Of course, the moment he said so, I had to discover what he meant. He thought to give the daughter of a lesser wife to King Solomon as a gesture of goodwill. But how could I allow such a thing after you practically prophesied to me that you would marry the man?”
I stared at her, bewildered. Prophesied? I had merely tossed a barb to get her to stop trying to wed me to Nakhti. “I did no such thing, Mother. I never planned to marry out of Egypt.”
Her look told me my future had already been sealed. “You know very well that you have no desire whatsoever to marry a cousin or brother, a man of right standing in this land. You have given me no choice, Siti. I cannot allow the daughter of a lesser wife to wed such a king . . .” Her voice trailed off, and I realized that even my mother had been captivated by Solomon’s wisdom, his allure.
“What are you saying?” My voice trembled, and I could not stop my hands from shaking.
She stood slowly, queenly, and crossed her arms like one passing judgment. “If I have my way, you will marry King Solomon. Your father will offer you to him as part of their agreement. Do not disappoint me.” She whirled about and slipped out of my rooms as gracefully as she had appeared, leaving me stunned.
Even now, as Akila and I peered into the banquet hall that could soon become the place where Solomon accepted my hand in marriage, I could not quite wrap my mind around Mother’s words. Things had moved so quickly. Despite Solomon’s lengthy visit, he had spent so much time with my father that even his comment that we would meet again had not yet happened. And now he would soon leave us.
Would I be going with him? I could not possibly be ready in a week’s time!
“Come, my lady. We must get you ready. In case.”
Yes. In case. I followed like an obedient slave, wondering just what awaited me at day’s end.
The afternoon waned, but the feverish activities of the servants did not. Akila had barely finished tracing elongated lines of kohl along my eyes when one of my father’s servants knocked on my door. Akila dropped her tools and hurried to answer. I walked into the sitting area and allowed the woman to bow at my feet.
“The king instructs you to come,” the servant said. “At once.” She cast me an apologetic look. “I am sorry, mistress, that you did not have more notice.”
My heart quickened at the reasoning behind this summons. My father never sought an audience with me alone. Always my mother accompanied me. “Akila,” I commanded with greater fierceness than I usually used, “bring my best gown at once.”
I dismissed the servant to wait in the hall while I followed Akila into my dressing chamber. “Whatever could he want of me?” My palms grew sweaty with the sudden, fearful thought. “What if my mother’s prediction is true?” I grabbed Akila’s shoulders, forcing her to look my way.
“Perhaps your father wishes to hear your feelings on the matter, my lady.” She touched my hand. “Your father may not wish to give you to a foreign king without your consent.”
I released my hold and accepted her ministrations as she fitted the white garment over my shoulders and placed a golden collar about my neck. Fine jeweled bracelets were snapped into place along both arms, and the final piece, my best blue-black wig pleated with jewels among each strand, was placed over my bound hair. It had been nearly a year since I had allowed the shearers to shave my head to make a better fit for the wigs. I loathed the wigs, and in the quiet of my apartments I gave myself the luxury of letting down my hair, which had already reached my shoulders. Done well, my own hair was beautiful, but palace tradition—nay, Egyptian tradition—would not allow me to go against protocol. So I hid my guilty pleasure.
“You look like a goddess, my lady,” Akila said when at last her handiwork was completed. She held up a bronze mirror to show what she could see far better than I could in the dim reflection.
I turned this way and that, barely recognizing myself. “Your work is well done, Akila. Now come with me, lest I quail at this request and find myself running in the opposite direction.” My maid was the only person with whom I could be so honest.
We followed my father’s servant down many corridors, past bored guards and rushing servants, and could already smell incense mingled with the heady scents of roasting fowl and baking bread. We climbed many steps to the king’s apartments on the floors above the palace chambers, until at last we stopped before two great doors with the sign of the cobra staring down at us. I shivered. The cobra always made me feel small, despite the fact that I was Pharaoh’s daughter.
Guards allowed us entrance, and I moved into the king’s private quarters, a place I had never been before. My heart thumped to the beat of a thousand drums as the servant led me to a balcony that overlooked the bustling court below. My father stood there, watching. I bowed low as he turned.
“May the Great Pharaoh, son of Ra, live forever in good health.” My voice sounded small in my ears.
He left the balcony and motioned to a low table with cushioned chairs circling it. He sat comfortably and indicated I do the same. He glanced about the room, then met my gaze. “You have not been here until now.”
“No, my lord. It is a great pleasure to be invited.” My mind whirled with the reason for this visit, and I wished Akila had not had to wait in the hall outside.
“You must be wondering why I asked you to come.” He spoke in his usual unquestioning way, his fingers slowly drumming the great arm of his chair. “And I will not keep you wondering.”
I nodded, wishing my heart would still.
“I have been in conference for weeks now with the king of Israel. But of course you know this.”
I nodded again. “It has been a great honor to experience his visit.” I clasped my hands in my lap, wishing Abdukar was here so I could stroke his soft fur to calm me.
“I have made several agreements with him.” My father studied me as if he was unsure how much to tell a lowly daughter. “I have given him horses and chariots and the town of Gezer as a wedding gift.” He let the words sink deep as though they carried weight the air would not hold.
“A wedding gift?” I said at last. But by his look I did not need him to say the rest.
“I am giving him one of my daughters to be his wife. It is an alliance that must be sealed with royal trust.” He took a date rolled in honey and crushed almonds from a tray on the table set before us, one I only now noticed. “If you will agree, I intend that daughter to be you.”
I had a choice in the matter? But of course I did not. “You would send me away from Egypt.” Suddenly the thought frightened me, despite my interest in this foreign king who worshiped a strange god. “To live in a land of one god? A god I do not know?” My heart beat faster with each question, and I sensed my father’s tension. He did not want to be faced with such things. He thought only of the political alliance my marriage to Solomon would bring.
“Solomon is powerful,” my father said at last. He looked away briefly, and I knew what he did not say. Egypt could not match Israel’s power. Though we had conquered Gezer two ye
ars before, we were not the nation we once were when the greatest pharaohs ruled the land. When Israel was captive to Egypt.
“You need him as your ally.”
He met my gaze then, but his nod was brief. “I would like this to be a positive arrangement for you.” His granite face softened, and this time his smile held a tinge of sadness. “I have always favored your mother . . . and her children.” It was the closest my father had ever come to expressing love.
“Thank you.” I swallowed. Solomon intrigued me, but the thought of a purely political marriage grated so harshly I nearly bit my tongue. All the exotic love poetry in the world would be wasted on a marriage of such alliance. For Solomon would surely marry other wives, no doubt already had, and could not possibly love them all—not the way I envisioned love. A knot settled in the pit of my stomach.
“What can I give you to make this transaction, for that is what it is, easier for you to bear?” I heard the uncertainty—was it uncertainty?—in my father’s voice. A sound I had never thought to hear.
And I realized that though I could not refuse, I did hold some small amount of power in this situation. I could request things, people to come with me . . . My mind trailed in a thousand directions at once.
“I don’t want to live in a harem,” I blurted, startled by my own audacity. “I want a palace of my own.” I squared my shoulders and sat straighter, hands clasped so tight my nails dug into my palms. “I want my maid to accompany me—several maids, in fact—and I will not give up my cat or the worship of Bastet. Solomon must agree to this.” Would Solomon agree to a foreign wife and a foreign god in his kingdom?
My father, the Great Pharaoh, looked at me strangely for the longest moment, but at last he sat tall and clapped his hands. Servants appeared from the shadows. “Send word to King Solomon to meet me in my personal antechamber.” He looked at me. “You shall have your wish before the banquet begins.” He leaned close and touched my chin. “By nightfall, you shall be Solomon’s wife, and every wish you could desire will be yours.”
He took my hand, and I was surprised to find it nearly as moist as my own. Could my father be as nervous as I about this upcoming alliance? But we did not speak of it. I merely allowed him to help me to my feet, astonished when he bent to kiss my cheek. I boldly kissed his in return, rather than bend over his hand to kiss his signet ring. I knew I would never get this chance again, and after this night, I would never behold his face thus.
“I will miss you, my lord king,” I said softly in his ear. “You are the greatest of kings. And I will not let Solomon forget it.”
He stroked my cheek, but he did not smile. “Be strong. Be true to Egypt and to your husband.”
I pondered his words as Akila and I walked back to my chambers, wondering why he put Egypt first, above my loyalty to Solomon. But I knew the reason. This was indeed an alliance of nations. My presence in Solomon’s capital would be a constant reminder of that fact.
7
Ra had already begun his journey to the underworld by the time my father’s banquet was in mid-course. I sat in the midst of it beneath a white canopy, singled out as my sister had been during her wedding feast. And yet, this was not a wedding feast as I imagined it would be. The dais I sat upon and the gown I wore had been hastily chosen, for my father had made it clear that by nightfall I would be wed to Solomon. Not a week or two from now—time enough to have new garments made.
Tonight.
I kneaded the fine linen I wore beneath the sheer robe, wishing instead to sink my fingers into Abdukar’s soft fur. I should have insisted my cat accompany me here, but the noise of the banquet would have sent him fleeing. Akila’s presence at my back was strength enough, I told myself. But as I watched King Solomon dine with my father, I wondered. Quiet conversation appeared to move between them, but if there had been any trouble with negotiations of my nuptial requests, neither man exhibited any tension now.
Would Solomon keep the bargains he had made? How soon would a palace be built that I could call my own? I half argued with myself that I should have insisted I would not move to Jerusalem until the palace was completed, but such a building project could take years, and I knew deep down that my father could not afford to wait to make this alliance.
And King Solomon did not strike me as a terribly patient man.
I worried my lower lip at that thought, forcing my mind not to jump too far ahead to the evening’s final hours. The hour when Solomon would lead me to his gleaming tents across the plains on the edge of the Nile. How long would we wait to leave Egypt?
“Are you nervous, my lady?” Akila bent forward and whispered the words, but I still heard them above the din.
I nodded. “Yes. A little.” I glanced at the grand platform where Pharaoh’s tables spread out like the Nile itself, surrounded by courtiers, his taste testers standing at attention just behind him. “King Solomon looks relaxed. And pleased.” I leaned back and turned my head to look at my maid. “My father’s arrangements must have been to his liking.”
“I suspect you will be to his liking, my lady.” She smiled at me with that look she always gave me when trying to convince me I was beautiful. Compared to Salama, I never thought so.
“I guess I will find out soon enough.” I turned then, suddenly not interested in discussions with my maid or anyone else. I wanted to walk gracefully from this place and back to my rooms, throw off this accursed wig, and hold Abdukar in my arms. But I did not follow my desires or instincts.
The hours passed, though I could not complain that the entertainment bored me. I think the worst part was Solomon did not join me on the dais. He remained near my father the entire evening. To anyone watching, I must have looked like a wilting lotus blossom on a pedestal, for all the interest paid to me. But then, I recalled, this was a banquet, not a true wedding feast. The king’s gift to a foreigner. Such a thing had never been done in Egypt, and my father had decided at the last to keep the wedding a simple, quiet affair. I was to sit as my sister had done, but there would be no exchange of vows or promises between us. My father had already sealed those vows for me.
A touch on my shoulder made me jump. “It is time, my lady,” Akila said, taking my arm, helping me to finally stand. My legs were stiff from sitting so long. How strange I felt to be following Akila and ten other maids out of the room, as though fleeing the hunter’s snare.
But we were not fleeing anything. Night air assaulted me as we moved from my father’s grand palace to a waiting litter in the outer courtyard. Palm trees lined the walkway, and slaves held a gilded litter aloft. One helped me enter and made sure I was securely settled among the cushions.
“I will be right behind you, my lady.” Akila’s words drifted away as the slaves lifted my chair and began a quick trot over the smooth stones of the court, through the long, winding street, onto the King’s Highway. The clop of horses’ hooves and chariot wheels came at a distance behind us, and I leaned over to lift the edge of the curtain. I looked back, and the image took my breath. My father’s palace shone like glittering starlight amidst a night so black it seemed almost starless in comparison. My home.
And yet my home no longer, I told myself, not for the first time that evening. I faced forward again, my heart pounding as though it had forgotten its normal rhythm. The litter stopped too soon before the bright white tents I had seen so often across the plains, the flags of King Solomon flying like banners above them.
A slave helped me alight, and Akila seemed to appear instantly at my shoulder. She gripped my arm, and I feared I might have stumbled if she hadn’t, though I lifted my chin high as we passed Hebrew servants and tents with more strange markings on them. My maids surrounded me, and I walked as one of the dead, for that was how I felt in this strange place. We came to the center of camp where stood the largest tent of them all.
Guards dressed in foreign clothing flanked each side of the tent’s opening, long, gleaming golden spears tilted at an angle in their hands. They bowed their heads when t
hey saw me and stepped aside, allowing my maids to escort me in.
A Hebrew female servant met me just inside the door. “You must be the princess,” she said in barely understandable Egyptian.
I nodded. “Yes.” Wasn’t it rather obvious? What else would I be doing here?
“You will come with me. The king has prepared chambers for you.” She turned without another word.
I looked at Akila, who simply shrugged, and realized there was nothing to do but follow. Was this how it was going to be then? I would follow foreign servants to foreign places, eat foreign food, and sleep with a foreign man who had barely spoken to me in the months he had been in Egypt?
Suddenly I did not want to be here. I glanced at Akila and knew she could read the fright in my eyes, for she took my hand and silently squeezed. Of course, I could not leave despite my uncertainties. This fate was one, by Bastet’s great name, I had agreed to.
What a fool I had been. Even Nakhti seemed a better choice at this moment, though he would have known nothing of the love I craved. Would Solomon understand my need? Would he care for me as the love poems said he should?
My thoughts drifted away as I entered the room the servant led me to—simply a partition of the king’s elaborate tent, but it did not lack for anything I could want, except perhaps solid walls. The servant left us, and my maids quickly stripped me of my wig and wedding garments. Akila combed my hair until it fell softly over my shoulders. A soft linen robe had been left for my use, and I slipped my arms through it, tying a knot in the belt.
Male voices sounded too soon, and my heart nearly leapt from within me. “He’s come,” I hissed in Akila’s ear. “Whatever shall I do?” I gripped her hand so tight she winced.
“Whatever he asks of you, my lady,” she whispered back, gently tugging her hand free of my grasp. “I must go now.” She laid the comb on a low table and quickly backed from the room, leaving me completely alone.
Daughter of the Nile Page 4