Seth exited, drenched in fake blood. I braced myself. It was now my big dance number—the Mourning Dance of Isis.
O God of Joseph, help me deliver a good performance before my dear one.
I counted to ten. Finally, I entered.
The lights were now dimmed. Dark curtains studded with false precious stones hung in the background. Above me was a lighted gossamer globe which cast dreamy silhouettes across the stage.
As I danced, a most unexpected thing happened. I was extending my arms as if I was Isis reaching out to her murdered husband when I imagined I was reaching out to Joseph in the prison.
Tears sprang to my eyes. In that moment, I became one with the goddess' mourning.
My mind drifted to the past. How sad that my first parents had died so tragically. How sad that they never knew what became of their lost daughter. If only they could see me now, in my mournful dance for the dead.
My knees began to soften. I knew I had just a few remaining steps to go so I forced myself through them. When all was done, I sank slowly, like a petal floating to the ground.
I wept.
"Asenath," came Rawosre's voice in my ear. "That was wonderful. Let me personally congratulate you."
He helped me to my feet and gave me a light embrace. My fellow actors surrounded me, a mass of golden faces and gleaming robes.
"Asenath, that was superb."
"Why didn't you do that in the rehearsals? Rawosre would have loved it."
"Ankhtifi cried."
"I did not!"
I simply smiled and thanked them. Then I went to my tent to have Nafre reapply my toilet.
The play let out for an intermission. When it resumed, it opened with the bawdy scene in which Isis "revives" Osiris for one night in order to conceive their son Horus. For that part, Rawosre had gotten courtesans to substitute me and my fellow actor. He certainly could not impede on our noble reputations.
As the scene ran its course, I heard a lot of hooting and yelling from the males in the audience. I blushed.
I wondered what Joseph thought of our perverted Egyptian humour. I had heard that the Hebrews were a rather conservative lot.
Afterward, I reappeared on stage clutching a bundle―the infant Horus. It was really just an old sack swaddled in linen. But in a sudden bout of inspiration, I cuddled the bundle and kissed it. I heard the women in the audience sigh.
Following that was the fight between Horus and Seth. Now, I had become the young god's crafty, nagging mother, who both helped and meddled in his plans to defeat his evil uncle.
In the tale, there is a part wherein Horus grows so irritated with his mother, he chops off her head. Being a goddess though, Isis is able to wander around headless until her head is returned to her.
For that scene, I had on a black sack with holes for my eyes. I jumped into the moat, as if in search of my missing head. The audience roared with laughter. I was glad I was able to humour them.
After Horus won his victory, the entire cast plus Rawosre gathered on stage and bowed. The audience gave us a standing ovation.
I was ecstatic. Relieved too. No mishaps had occurred. No one had caused any disruptions or disturbances. Everything had been perfect.
So it was that I faced the audience with a big smile.
Joseph, what did you think?
When my fellow cast members and I later arrived in Pharaoh's dining hall, the feast was already well underway. Guests mingled and sat before tables heaped with food. Heady aromas emitted from perfumed wax cones atop people's heads. Pretty slave girls in transparent dresses flitted about, carrying pitchers of wine and beer. An orchestra played lively tunes on flutes, drums and castanets. A small troupe of Nubian dancers leapt and twirled at the centre of the hall.
I was about to look for Joseph when I was hounded by my parents, Lady Ahwere and her family, Queen Ahmose, Princess Hatshepsut and even some people who had never spoken to me before. Many asked how I managed to cry in the Mourning Dance. I simply said the action called for it.
Later, when I was seated, I looked to the head table where Joseph would have been seated with the royal family. He was not there. Neither was Pharaoh. I surmised the two had an impromptu meeting, the way busy men always do.
Fortunately, not long after, my dear one appeared. I caught my breath when I saw he was wearing an elegant embroidered robe that revealed the
beginnings of his sculpted chest. I was amazed how one being could contain such a vast, nearly impossible amount of beauty.
I was about to drink in the sight of him when I was interrupted by people who wanted to talk about the play. I turned away from Joseph with as much difficulty as I would have in closing my ears to a lovely song that was playing.
Once in a while, I stole glances at him. He looked like he was deep in conversation with the royal couple.
"His Majesty, Pharaoh Aakheperkare Tuthmosis, the living god speaks," a herald intoned.
The party fell to a hush. Pharaoh rose from his seat, which was in between Joseph and Queen Ahmose.
"This feast is to honour Lord Zaphenath-Paneah," the king said. "Because of him, Egypt will prosper greatly. Because of him, we shall reign as the greatest nation in the world."
A cheer rose from the guests.
Pharaoh raised his jewelled goblet. "I thus propose a toast to Lord Zaphenath-Paneah, who has saved us all. To Lord Zaphenath-Paneah."
"To Lord Zaphenath-Paneah!" we echoed.
Pharaoh delivered a speech of gratitude to Joseph. A few other family members and Palace officials followed him. Afterward, Joseph spoke briefly, thanking their Majesties for their most kind gesture.
Pharaoh waved his hand to resume the festivities. I returned to entertaining questions about the play.
At one point when I glanced up, I saw Joseph had once again disappeared. I guessed he had gone off to another meeting.
"Congratulations, Lady Asenath," a voice behind me said. "That was a most stirring performance."
I nearly jumped.
The people around me greeted him enthusiastically and offered him seats. He took one next to me.
"The dance especially was full of pathos," Joseph said. "I was truly moved."
My blood pulsed furiously in my veins. "I am glad Your Excellency has found it pleasing. I can only do my best."
"Pleasing? It was―oh goodness, I don't know how I can possibly describe it. It was beyond words. By the way, what happened to Joseph?"
I glanced around. To my surprise, the people around us had disappeared.
He grinned. "Isn't it amazing what happens when you don't pay attention?"
"Uh, well..." I smiled bashfully.
He leaned forward. "At last, Asenath, I―"
"Lord Zaphenath-Paneah."
I nearly screamed.
Joseph, dignified vizier that he was, showed no sign of annoyance. "Lord Nebet. Please have a seat."
The two men talked business for a while.
"Surely, you remember my daughter," Lord Nebet said.
The girl appeared as if from thin air.
I had once sat near Lady Wosret at a banquet and learned all I needed to know about her from that meeting―if it could even be called a meeting. She spent one hour talking about her wig collection and the next talking about her beauty rituals. She also had a loud whiny voice that hurt my ears.
"We have met," Joseph said.
The girl sat and crossed her legs, looking as if she had just claimed the whole place to herself. She gave Joseph a smile that nearly made me retch.
"So?" Lord Nebet said. "What say you?"
Then more hopeful women, along with their parents, sidled up to Joseph. I was shoved aside as the foolish girls crowded around the vizier, devouring him with hungry eyes.
I couldn't take it anymore. I got up and walked out of the dining hall.
No one seemed to notice me leaving.
I went outside and headed toward Pharaoh's garden, where I knew it would be peaceful and quiet. Sure enough
, there was no one around, except for blessed beautiful solace.
The garden was magical. Silver beams from a full moon drifted upon the flower beds and lotus ponds. Fountains tinkled, their drops splashing like watery stars. Lotus blossoms glowed against the darkened ground.
As I strolled down the path, a handful of honeybees fluttered together like a golden halo above my head. Their delicate wings caught the moonlight, making them look like gleaming petals. The bees seemed calm and I felt tranquillity wash over me.
"Asenath," came a soft voice.
I turned around.
Him.
"There you are," Joseph said. "I was afraid you had left." Standing in the shadows, he looked like a dream.
My face flushed. "I am sorry. That was very rude of me."
"Don't be. You would think people were conspiring to keep us apart, wouldn't you?"
I did not know what to say. I was flattered. More than flattered.
He smiled. "Would you like to go for a walk?" He held out his arm to me.
My heart nearly failed me. "Y-yes. That would be nice."
I took his muscled arm. It felt firm and warm against me. Even firmer than I imagined.
We strolled through the moonlit garden. It looked as if we were the only two people on earth. I was in pure, sheer bliss.
"Where did all these bees come from?" he asked, frowning.
I turned my gaze from my dear one. There were now clouds of gleaming bees buzzing throughout the garden. They danced in the air, past the trees and fountains, over flowers and ponds. Some of them hovered around me. I reached out to touch them and the bees hovered an inch from my palms.
"I don't know," I said in awe. "There were only a few of them when I got here."
"They're beautiful," Joseph said softly.
He turned to me, his magical eyes as dreamy as the moon's reflections rippling on the surface of the Nile. "I must ask your forgiveness, Asenath," he said.
"Forgiveness? Why, what have you done?"
"I've been meaning to come to you earlier. I really have. Alas, my duties kept me away. But I really wanted to see you more than anything."
"It's all right. I understand. I heard your work can be quite demanding."
"Still, I should have come earlier because, well, I want to thank you for everything you've done for me."
"I want to thank you for everything you've done for me," I said. "To begin with, you returned to me my necklace. I know it might sound a bit silly, but that necklace actually means a lot to me. It was a gift from my first mother."
"Your first mother?"
"Yes. I am adopted." At long last I shared my life with my dear one, just as he had shared his with me.
"That is quite interesting, Asenath," Joseph said afterward. "You have been through so much. You are indeed a strong woman."
"I wasn't always known as Asenath, by the way. I was born as Kiya. I was renamed Asenath when I was adopted."
I realised I was babbling. I let out a small laugh. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. It's really not that important." I shrugged.
"Kiya." A faraway look came over Joseph's face.
I grew concerned, wondering if I had said something wrong. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine." He turned back to me and smiled.
"Asenath." His voice was now husky. "There is something I have been meaning to tell you. But first..." He wrapped his arms around me and leaned forward.
My eyelids began to lower. They were nearly closed.
The skies rumbled softly. We looked up just as the first raindrops splashed on our faces. The clouds of bees began to disappear.
It began as a drizzle, then gradually increased. I was anxious, for it never rained in Upper Egypt.
"Come, Joseph. We must go." I broke away from his embrace and started up the path.
He remained rooted to his spot.
"Joseph?" I looked at him incredulously.
"Asenath, you are such a city woman."
All of a sudden, Joseph burst out laughing. He spread out his arms, as if to catch the rain.
At that moment a part of me, which I had thought long dead, leapt up and danced. It was little Kiya's carefree spirit, running along the banks of the Nile, screaming happiness at the top of her lungs.
And I laughed with my dear one. The rain was hardly anything to be afraid of. In fact, it had turned the garden into a dazzling miracle, a river of light.
Joseph approached me, the raindrops glittering on his face like tears of joy. "Where were we, my darling?"
He took me into his arms once more.
"W-what did you say?" I asked.
"You heard me perfectly well, my dearest." He smiled.
"I-I―"
"Shhh." He put a finger to my lips, then stroked my cheek. "Asenath. My Asenath."
"Lord Zaphenath-Paneah!"
I groaned, not bothering to conceal my annoyance this time.
Joseph too looked thoroughly vexed. "A disadvantage to the Palace is that you can never truly be alone," he murmured.
"Well, we don't have to answer."
"No, Asenath. That would not be right." Still, he made a face before resuming his dignified vizier's mask.
"We are here," he called out.
A servant with a parasol appeared. He held it over our heads. "Life, health and prosperity to you, my lord and lady. Your Excellency, Pharaoh wishes to have a word with you."
"Very well."
As we headed back inside, Joseph took my hand. I gripped it, wishing I never had to let go.
"Do you know how late it is?"
"I'm sorry, Father."
"What were you doing at the Palace so late? What are you smiling about? And why, by the eye of Re, are you wet?"
"It rained."
I did not realise I was smiling. In fact, I was hardly aware of anything. All but the sweet memories of my time with Joseph.
"Was the feast moved outdoors after I left?" Father asked.
"No."
"So why are you wet?"
"I went for a walk in Pharaoh's garden."
"Were you alone?"
"No."
"Who were you with?"
"Joseph."
Father snorted. "I thought so. What did you do out there?"
"Walked, talked, watched the rain fall. It was so beautiful." I sighed happily.
"I don't want you to see him anymore."
The lovely mood shattered. "Why not?"
"Can you not see him for who he is? He's a barbarian sheepherder. And now this rain in Upper Egypt. Who knows what black magic he could be conjuring up."
Suddenly, I was tired and my damp clothes felt disgusting. "Can we talk about this in the morning? It's very late and I still need to have a bath."
Looking reluctant, Father dismissed me with a wave of his hand.
It was nearly noon when I awoke the following day. Now, only Mother was in the house. As I ate a lunch that was breakfast for me, she
sat with me and asked me to tell her everything. I did. Well, almost everything.
Nafre appeared with a huge bouquet. I sighed at yet another gift from Khasekh. This was the last thing I wanted to deal with now.
"My lady," Nafre said. "This was delivered by a messenger of Lord Zaphenath-Paneah."
She handed me a small papyrus sheet embossed with the vizier's seal—a bull circled by heads of grain.
My eyes widened. Mother chuckled.
"Ah, put it here on the table. Right here in front of me." I tapped the spot.
The bouquet was large and colourful. I reached out to finger a scented petal.
Mother said with a sly grin, "This looks promising."
After my meal, I dragged a small table to the centre of my room and placed the bouquet there. Like a brilliant lamp, it bathed the room―and my heart―in the colours of the rainbow.
When Father got home later, Mother took him to my room to show him the bouquet. He stared at it for a long time. Finally, he said, "That l
ooks like something stolen from a funeral."
He chuckled. No one joined in. But at his words, the beautiful bouquet seemed to wilt.
Father said, "You know what, Asenath, you are ruining your life. Joseph is not what you think he is. To begin with—though this should be reason enough—he is a sheepherder. A barbarian. His people are uncivilised, savage nomads. Everything about them is abhorrent. Their religion is strange, their language is ugly, they live in tents for Osiris' sake. Do you want to be like those veiled Canaanite women you see in the marketplace? Those traders' companions who are treated no better than cattle?"
I shrugged, not wanting to dignify that with an answer.
"If you marry Joseph," Father continued, "you will marry into a lineage of dirty sheepherding folk with their lice and their tents and their desert. And your children will be barbarians too. Do you really want that? Now Khasekh, on the other hand, comes from fine Egyptian stock. Not to mention that if you two marry, the temple will be able to give you benefits."
I glanced at Mother, who was staring at her hands in her lap.
A few days later, I received a letter from Joseph. It had been delivered while I was out. He told me he had been sent to travel around Egypt again,
but would return in a week for Pharaoh's hunt in the southern plains. He promised he would send word as soon as he got back.
I smiled and hugged the letter to my chest. What was once a fantasy was now a reality.
I dreamily floated along the corridors overlooking the garden when I came across an enchanting sight. Far below me, two slave children were watering the flowerbeds, creating a small rainbow in their midst.
This reminded me of one of Joseph's stories about a man named Noah, who had survived a great flood and seen a magnificent rainbow at the end. I inhaled the scent of the lotus blossoms and smiled.
A week later, Nafre said, "My lady, Lord Zaphenath-Paneah is here. He wishes to meet with you."
"He's here now?" It was only after I said that did I realise how stupid that sounded.
"Yes, my lady." Nafre's lips twitched.
"All right. See to his comfort. Bring him out to the garden. Tell him I shall be with him shortly."
I took some time preparing myself though, for I had been taught that a proper lady allows a man to wait a bit. It was just as well for I was additionally nervous at seeing him again.
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