Naibe understood exactly what she meant. Struggling away from Deka’s hold, the young woman began to shriek: “No! I will never do it. My dances were for my beloved! Only for him! There is nothing left in me!” she broke into more sobs, her cries echoing around the small, quiet room.
Ariennu made her way to Naibe and Deka. She knew either she or Deka needed to find the right words to calm Naibe down before the evening arrived. Having been in more than one noble house as a girl, Ari already knew that restraint, good manners, and a show of finest breeding were going to be much more important at this point than the expression of rage or grief. These royals already understood the three of them were miserable beyond all telling. Ariennu also knew that the high priest must have called in some mighty favors to get a meeting for them arranged so quickly with the nobles. “Shh, Baby One…” Ariennu held the girl tightly with both arms. When she glanced back over her shoulder she saw the countess had leaned forward to watch all of their reactions carefully. Ari knew that anything she said to Naibe might be heard and used against them, so she spoke carefully. “I know it hurts,” she shushed. “We have to try, though. He would want it, Baby. He would want it,”
“Dear ones.” Countess Saeteptah underscored that sentiment as she tried a sympathetic approach in much the same way as her husband had done. “You are so blessed!” her lips stretched wide in a rehearsed smile. “I’m told that even the king, in his great charity, has been moved by your story! He intends to ask for one of you to come into his house, I am told.”
Everything about the countess’ demeanor appeared sympathetic, but the practiced, concern made her seem like a fraud in Ariennu’s eyes. She nodded that she understood and agreed.
With the countess’ announcement of the king’s intent, the conversation between the four women ended. A harpist had entered to set up her instrument next to the Countess. She began to finger the strings gently so that calming chords were created. The music continued its calming effect as they bathed and washed each other’s hair. Ariennu and Deka paid little attention to either woman at the side of the pool as they took turns trying to hold and caress Naibe-Ellit, who was still mad with grief.
Having tired of her watch, the countess shrugged and left, unable to see any improvement in the younger woman. After a few more melodies, the harpist left too
Ariennu whispered tenderly to Naibe when the women had gone: “be still sweet one. Our hearts are breaking too. Let us be one heart together,” Ariennu tried, but instantly realized her error. “One heart” was the phrase Marai had used for all of them moving and thinking together.
“One heart, one heart. Oh, goddess in me, why? I loved him,” young Naibe-Ellit cried again and again.
One Heart, my beloved, the air shimmered beside her right ear for just a moment. Marai’s voice, or the memory of it, sounded in her heart once more.
Take a lesson from sweetest Naibe…
Woman, you taught me
I can escape death!
I believe you.
I believe you, my goddess!
His voice continued, just under the surface of her thoughts.
Naibe bowed her head against Deka’s deep brown arm. “I hear him. I hear him,” Naibe-Ellit snuffled. “Don’t you hear him speaking to you, Ari? Don’t you?”
Ari shook her head. She didn’t know what to answer. She thought she had felt his spirit nearby and even felt he had been watching them.
You here, Marai? Is Naibe really hearing you? She asked a particularly dense portion of the vapor. She knew one thing about herself; if his spirit hadn’t come into the room, she wouldn’t have been able to lull herself into good behavior. Not hearing a reply, she looked at Deka and Naibe again
“I guess we’ll just have to do this for a while. You heard that priest even say they paid Etum Addi’s share and are making him go to the coast. Now no one will take us in, especially that worthless kuna Raawa and her brood,” she paused, thinking of Marai’s young relative. “I mean Djerah’s fine, but those women and those children. Ugh!” the elder woman spoke aloud. “Looks like these priests planned this whole thing start to finish. You can’t tell me the old man just snaps his fingers one day, shouts ‘free clams!’ and gets even his king to come running. Must be more to this than we’ve been told.
The maids returned to the room as Ari was speaking, causing her to quickly swallow her words. Gesturing for Deka and Naibe-Ellit to listen to her thoughts, she hoped that the countess had gone far away enough to be beyond the range of prying. I know you want to kill these men because of what they did. I do too! Let’s just do what they want and soon we’ll find ways to avenge Marai and more! We’ll know the name of everyone who has helped do this to him. We can get at all of them that way,” her thoughts whispered, let us be done with this and see what comes next.
Finished with the bath, Ariennu valiantly tried to keep her thoughts from Marai as the maids attended to her and her sister-wives with dry toweling. Despite her efforts, something would always drag her thoughts to some of the energy he had left behind. When she had been in the water and had closed her eyes, she felt him with her. He bathed in this room… I can feel his spirit here, she told herself.
Although they had never bathed together in a pit pool or even in a wadi hole on the entire journey to Kemet, she felt as if he had reached through time and had created a fantasy of them bathing together. When had he had woven that dream filled with desire? She imagined him gently pulling her back against him in the darkened warmth, planting evil-sweet kisses on the back of her neck until she wanted to beg for more. Ariennu allowed the soothing oil massages and the general pampering provided by the maids to continue in her waking world as the thoughts drew her further and further away.
At some point, she and her sister wives were left alone so they could rest in a private room beside the pool. They finished the shared meal brought down from the kitchen while the maids brought out henna paint mixed in bowls, with paddles and brushes of various sizes for applying it. Deka used it a little to brighten the dark jets of her hair, Ariennu laid it on thickly to make her hair shimmer like brighter fire, and Naibe painted it on everyone’s nails. The youngest wife painted lacy patterns that beckoned spiritual strength together with symbols of protection on her hands and arms. Adding to the artwork, Ariennu stained everyone’s lips with the paint. Deka put the kohl and the green color on everyone’s eyes and then painted her own patterns over the tops of her hands and on her breasts and torso. In silence, they anointed themselves with spicy smelling oil. Naibe-Ellit braided Deka’s hair in tight rows along the sides of her head. The Ta-Seti woman returned the favor by pinning up Naibe’s braids and twisting Ariennu’s hair into rows that swept over her ears in a band.
As soon as she could do it without being seen, Ariennu retrieved the stones from their hiding place. She planned to bury them deep in her basket underneath the rest of her clothes. Once she was in her new home, she could find a new place to hide them. Ari hoped the Children would tell her what steps would be next, now that Marai was gone, before she had to start her own ideas.
For a moment, she let Naibe hold the bag and pet the stones inside. Ariennu sat holding the youngest one and sensing the comfort, the stones had begun to whisper in Marai’s voice.
Naibe, beloved, I love you…
Know you are my goddess walking
once more in earth.
If I have truly died,
go on and do what you must.
Do not fail of grieving on my account.
You showed me once
how wrong it was for me to grieve my onetime bride Ilara…
Do not weep for me too long.
Live, beloved woman…
Love again, and be happy
Ari sighed, then took the bag from a reluctant Naibe. Love again? No chance, Marai, she thought to herself. No chance. She lay on a soft round floor pillow, holding the youngest wife. Deka nestled beside both of them. There wasn’t much to do. The guards in one area with the prie
sts and the maids were with the countess in the other.
“I can’t…” Naibe-Ellit raised up suddenly as if she wanted to get the bag again.
“No, baby” Ari soothed her. “Just listen to me,” the elder woman’s face became tender.
“We’re going to be apart for a little while. Try to understand.”
Naibe couldn’t. She knew Marai was watching her from beyond his life again. When she listened to Ariennu tell her and Deka the men would come and go as they had always done, she knew it would be different for her. She would understand so much more; not just how good it felt to her body to have a man inside her. Her gift through the lapis-blue-colored Child Stone buried in her brow was not only full intelligence, but a godly capacity to give and feel greater than human emotions of purest love. She knew how to reach into a man’s soul just by talking to him and by offering him a pair of arms in which to whisper and weep. That power opened men’s hearts and told her all of their secrets and memories. She saw people better than they could see themselves. She gave that love and evoked it the vision from Marai when they had been together. Ari said men might use her body again, but none of them would be Marai. Her eyes reflected that storm.
Deka understood keenly what her sister would endure. She had known the same indignity, even though the fever had taken away most of her girlhood memories. The Children of Stone had told her she would need to heal her heart before the memory returned. Now, with Marai gone, healing seemed impossible. She knew she had never been a commoner like Ariennu or Naibe; she was different. Even during her life as a pleasure slave with old Chibale the sorcerer, she never once forgot that she had been royalty and perhaps even a goddess.
“Try not to think about it too much, Brown Eyes,” Deka suggested. “These men will at least be clean. You have to learn to fly away from them. Fly away. Do not allow yourself to give love to any of them, ever! They are unworthy. Fly away, in your heart, and let your flesh do what it wants. Do not think. We know what they will want, but we also know the one thing they can’t have! We must never give our hearts to any of them.”
Ariennu understood Deka a little more then, but she knew deep down that the Ta-Seti woman thought of Marai in almost the same way. Ari couldn’t fathom why Deka had shielded herself, turning Marai into a sort of curious father figure. Had the wounds of her former life been so deep that what “the body did” as she said and “what the heart felt” could never be joined again? Marai had given all of them love, tenderness, and passion like no other man had done before. He wouldn’t have even thought of dividing women’s pleasure from love and passion. Ariennu remembered how Marai gently opened her heart that day in the apartment, despite the hardness she had placed around that part of her soul. Even Deka’s heart had been so very close to the surface in those last days before he left to study with the priests. Now all of that, and any chance for Deka to heal herself in his gentle care, was lost.
When the women finished dressing, the Countess and the woman who had played the harp returned briefly to check on them. The servants followed these two noblewomen to a more private room which was detached from the common area for personal handmaidens. Deka whispered to Ari that the musician, who had never been introduced to them and who kept herself aloof, was likely a secondary wife. In a short time, the two women emerged fully wigged and adorned for a fancy dinner. This time, Ariennu, Deka, and Naibe were treated as if they were invisible.
Servants attended Hordjedtef’s wives quietly, making the last preparations for the evening. As they did, Ariennu watched the two wives whisper instructions to each other. Because she had been deaf most of her adult life she had taught herself to read lips and interpret expressions. This early evening, as she watched the women, she became aware that she was hearing their thoughts as clearly as if they had been speaking to her.
When you check on them, make sure they have plenty of this special spiced wine, the elder countess’ murmured, certain she wasn’t heard. It will calm them. I cannot have any of them humiliate me before my king. It is your duty.
Ariennu saw Countess Saeteptah push a small pot of something into a serving girl’s hands and saw her glance quickly at Naibe, who was still drawing spells on her hands with the deep green henna paste.
Yeah, Naibe’s going to need that. I think Deka and I can manage, but we’ll drink some of it too. Baby one just needs to wake up somewhere else… maybe with someone friendly who won’t be about putting it to her too soon. Ariennu thought, then put on a stiff, false smile as one of the handmaidens brought the jug to her. Quickly, she offered it to Naibe-Ellit. “Baby, drink this. It’ll help you sleep better,” she lied. “We’ve all had some of it.” As Naibe sipped a little and went back to making her henna patterns, Ari continued to listen to both wives’ private conversation about them. They mentioned their suitability back and forth, giggled, and joked. Then Hordjedtef’s wives left to join the dinner guests, leaving the three sojourning women behind for a moment in eerie silence.
With the drugged wine and the incense in the room it was easy for the three women to stop thinking about recent horrors of the day. Deka’s right, Ariennu thought. Royal men are proud of their bodies, even when they get old. Even that miserable high priest cares that he doesn’t droop or sag. The inspector priest, Ari observed, remembering how his body felt against hers. He’s smooth like a gazelle… bet he dances. So far, no fat ones or dirty ones. Better pickings than when we were all in the wilderness.
As darkness approached, the maids beckoned for the women to come back to the dry store room where they had first tried to calm themselves earlier in the day. The once plain room had been freshly cleaned and filled with large and sumptuously woven cushions placed on the floor for the women to sit or lie on. Just those small touches and the dream incense that now smoked up the room made the tiny waiting area seem less like a prison.
The servants brought more of the special wine for them to drink. Deka quaffed plenty of it and made sure Naibe had as much of it as she could take down before she started to whimper again.
What is this stuff? Tastes like wood. I’m done, Ariennu pretended to drink the wine but put it aside. Don’t trust it. If they plan to poison us before the evening is over, they’ll have to make me drink it. She knew she had to stay sober enough to plan a way to get all of them out.
The women sat in silence, listening through the open doorway to the distant sound of men as they talked and enjoyed their meal in the wide plaza, punctuated by occasional comments from the “Countess”. Musicians played instruments. Someone rattled a little sistrum again. Ariennu laid back on the smooth bloated cushion, holding a now dry-eyed Naibe. Deka scooted back against the wall and drew into herself.
After a while, the inspector came to the doorway of the little room. Ariennu noticed he must have returned to his home at some point in the afternoon because he was wore a longer, more formal shendyt and two gold and pearl-shell wristlets. The crystal amulet he had worn had been attached to the middle of his collar, and his head was adorned with a plain dark nemes. She watched his expression as he paused to slowly regard the three of them. He seemed clearly stunned at the way their appearance had risen from that of ordinary-but-well-dressed peasants to women of extravagant beauty. Ariennu smiled up at him, almost haltingly, sensing his thought that she and her sisters in kind would be truly at home and at ease around nobility, after all.
“Very good, ladies…” Wserkaf remarked. Then, turning more directly to Ariennu, he asked a little apprehensively: “You are feeling greater calm, then?”
The elder wife blinked, unmoved. Deka’s arm stayed around Naibe who had risen to her feet and moved toward the Ta-Seti woman just to get away from the inspector when he entered. Naibe’s eyes couldn’t meet his at that moment.
“Just so you know…” he spoke softly after a brief and respectful pause, “I am nothing if I am not truthful. Our King, Great Majesty Menkaure is here to see you. Son of his Body and Overseer of the Northern Army, Crown Prince Shepseskaf is here al
so. Finally, the highly esteemed grandson of Great One, and Overseer of the Southern Army Prince Maatkare Raemkai, is here.” The inspector paused for a moment, then after a thought he added. “If it puts you more at ease, I will not choose one of you as a help-maid, nor will the Great One. It is his express wish that none of you remain in his home after these introductions conclude.” The inspector paused, waiting for his announcement to sink in, then added: “You should feel honored that these godly men were willing to put the evening dictates of their positions aside to come and meet with you.” With an abrupt turn, the inspector stood in the doorway to wait for a signal to escort the women to the party.
Aye, I hear you saying the same thing your master’s kuna said to us, you weak and simpering wretch! Ariennu’s thoughts muttered. The old man must have told you exactly what to say and how to say it. She saw the inspector tense and look back over his shoulder at her to show he was well aware of her attitude if not her words. “What is desired of you, good ladies, is companionship as guest workers in godly households. You will be asked to assist with entertainments, to honor and to give comfort to your hosts. In return you will be protected and may, in time, advance in status and independence.”
“Oh, you dog…” Ariennu hissed under her breath, unable to pretend civility any longer. “I know what this really is! You’re selling us!” her voice rose, “we’re going to be slaves!” Ariennu stepped forward, bristling at the inspector.
“I repeat my words” the inspector tersely corrected the elder woman. “You are guest workers, much as those who sojourn to work in the farming or building trades in our land. Just understand every effort to find the right household for your best protection and growth has been made! Please…” his voice urged the women to quiet themselves and to regain the composure he had seen when he entered the little room.
Protection and growth, Ariennu grumbled a little. Still, might as well be slaves.
Going Forth By Day Page 7