Daughter of Egypt

by Constance O'Banyon

  A column of twenty armed warriors rode behind them with Captain Darius at their head. There had been an early shower, and the air smelled fresh and clean.

  Thalia was smiling as she glanced over at Ashtyn, but the smile was soon replaced by a strong ache in her breast. He looked so noble, and it was easy to see he was revered by those who served under him. Citizens poured out of their huts as they heard the cavalcade approach—when they saw Thalia attired in her mother’s breastplate and bedecked in gold and red, they dropped to their knees and bowed their heads.

  “I will never grow accustomed to such deference,” she said, feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed.

  “There will come a time when you will accept it as your right,” Ashtyn told her.

  “I have done nothing to deserve such devotion.”

  “It matters not what you have done, it is who you are.

  Thalia jabbed her horse in the flanks, pressing the others to follow.

  At midday they stopped at the ruins of an old fort. Thalia walked around the crumbling edifice and glanced at stone stairs leading nowhere. The once high ramparts now sagged to the ground. She stepped over broken pottery and other remnants of shattered lives. Anger was beginning to grow in her, and it took her by surprise. “This was done by the rebels?”

  Ashtyn nodded.

  Thalia glanced toward a nearby field, overgrown and abandoned. Her gaze fastened on a flowering juniper that perfumed the air. “Yet, even among this devastation, flowers manage to grow thick and fragrant like a promise of life renewed.”

  He nodded down at her with a smile that tightened her insides. Just the sight of him still sent her heart pounding.

  “I have to believe there will always be hope, Highness.”

  She stared into the distance and thought to herself, I have gone from street urchin to queen in the span of a few short years.

  After they had dined on cheese and fruit, they continued their ride. By late afternoon, Thalia noticed they had been joined by at least fifty more mounted men who closed around them, forming a protective barrier.

  They had not ridden much farther when Ashtyn called a halt and glanced at Thalia. “Just ahead is what your grandfather wanted you to see.”

  At first, her gaze was drawn to the lush valley with its jagged cliffs and rugged beauty. Off to the left, rounded hills eventually rolled into snow-capped mountains that dominated the sky. There were woods and thick foliage that abutted a clear mountain stream. Her gaze ran along wide gullies that changed into low craggy hills. Something caught in her throat, and she wondered how her mother could have left such a place.

  But Thalia did not know her mother’s side of the story. Now that she’d met Ashtyn, she understood that a woman might do desperate things for the man she loved. She frowned. But no matter how much a woman loved a man, if she was a princess, she should never turn her back on her duty. Thalia certainly wouldn’t.

  “If there is a more beautiful place in this world,” she said, turning to Ashtyn, “I have yet to see it.”

  He pointed to his left. “Aye, but there is what your grandfather wanted you to see. Rapolt.”

  “The ruins of a village,” she said, frowning.

  “Nay, not a village, a once thriving city with over two thousand citizens. Look at the ruins and imagine it as it was before most of its inhabitants were either slain or fled for their lives. Imagine the great battle that took place here, and the blood that soaked into the earth.”

  Thalia gasped.

  Ashtyn nodded to what had once been the outer wall but was now only crumbling stones. “At first we fought until our swords were broken, then we used our daggers—after they were broken, we fought hand-to-hand.” He closed his eyes, momentarily reliving those awful days. “Even now I can hear the cries of the innocents who died here.”

  Thalia’s lips quivered, and she could almost imagine the battle, for the stench of blood and death still clung to the air. “How many perished in this tragic place?”

  “We counted over nine hundred dead. Over half were women and children. There are very few people on the island who could not claim kin to someone who died here.”

  Anger seethed inside Thalia, along with heavy sadness that twisted in her heart. “I understand the destruction of a fort, for it would be manned by soldiers. But why destroy a city filled with women and children?” Thalia looked into his eyes. “Why?”

  “You would have to ask Sevilin that question—it was his orders that brought down Rapolt. I still dream of this battle. Sometimes at night I can hear the cries of the children.” Ashtyn stared into the distance, and Thalia could feel the anger in him, and she understood it.

  “You blame yourself. Why?”

  “Sevilin had planned it well. Most of my men were defending the fort I showed you earlier. I had not considered Sevilin would strike hardest here. When I discovered his intentions, we rode with all haste to the city’s defense, but it was too late to turn the tide of battle. After a while, those of us who survived knew we were fighting simply to hold the ground, for most of the people were dead by then.”

  “You lost someone in the city.”

  “My mother and two young sisters.”

  She cried out and placed her hand on his arm. “ ’Twas not your doing. How could you have known?”

  “I was in command, thus I must bear the guilt until I draw my last breath.”

  “What must we do to stop this?” she asked.

  “Win this war and drive Sevilin and his evil mother into the sea.”

  “How can this be done?” She met his gaze. “Tell me, and I shall do it.”

  “Be anointed queen. Take up the war, and the people will follow you.”

  She lowered her head in contemplation.

  “We are a wounded country, bleeding unto death. We have mothers with no children, and children with no mothers—a country of orphans and widows. Give the people someone to rally around. Be their queen.”

  Ashtyn’s eyes were glowing, and Thalia was almost certain she caught a glint of tears.

  “ ’Tis a tragedy that so many died here.”

  “Aye,” he said without looking at her.

  “Sadness may leave scars on the land, but they will heal.”

  He looked down at her. “Not as long as war continues to leave fresh scars.”

  As Thalia watched the setting sun, a strong sensation of strength poured through her. She did not know from whence the strength came, but she felt it in her heart, and then throughout her whole body.

  Perhaps it was from the blood of long-dead Bal Forean kings who cried out for justice. Perhaps it was only her anger. But no matter the cause, these were her people, and they needed something to believe in.

  “Take me to my grandfather.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Count Ashtyn left Thalia at the door to her grandfather’s quarters and disappeared down the corridor. The door swung open, and Lord Parinez bowed to her. “Highness, your grandfather will be happy to see you. He has been awaiting your return.”

  “Lord Chamberlain,” she said in greeting, taking measured steps until her eyes became accustomed to the dimness of the room.

  The scribe was still sitting near the bed, and he scrambled to his feet, bowing to her, as did the physician who had been tending the king. Something had changed—she could feel it in the atmosphere of the chamber.

  King Melik watched Thalia approach his bed, and she stared into blue eyes that held knowledge of the ages.

  “So you have returned,” he croaked in a weakened voice. “What did you think of the ruins of my once great city?”

  She dropped down onto the stool next to his bed. “I was saddened by what I saw. You knew I would be.”

  “I hoped you would be. What you saw today was the least of it. I could have had Count Ashtyn show you sights far worse.”

  “I no longer have doubts as to my true identity. Today I admit that I am truly of your blood.”

  His eyes flickered. “Then you
will take up your rightful place?”

  “I will do whatever is necessary to stop Lord Sevilin from destroying Bal Forea and its people.” Her gaze dropped to the toe of her sandal. “Although I do not know how to help people in such dire need. But in doing this, I also ask something from you.”

  “I expected you would, and I know what it is. You want my promise that you can be free to return to Egypt when Sevilin and his mother are defeated.”

  Thalia nodded.

  His voice was unnaturally weak, and she had to bend closer to catch his words. “I cannot give you that promise because by then I shall be dead and gone, and you will have the power in your own hands.”

  She lowered her head. “I am sorry for that.”

  “To save the people you must wed Ashtyn. Can you not do this for those who will look to you for guidance?”

  She thought about it a moment, and knew he was right. “I can, if I must.”

  King Melik reached out his shaky hand, and Thalia placed hers in his chilling clasp. “I regret we have so little time to know one another. I find I like you very well.” His mouth settled into a humorous smile. “I had little liking for my son and daughter. Neither of them had an original thought in their heads.” He looked into her eyes. “You are like me. I wish I could live to see the changes you will make on Bal Forea. You shall be a glorious queen.”

  Thalia swallowed quickly, knowing she would speak only the truth to this man—there would no lies between them. “I had always thought a monarch could not be crowned while the true ruler lived.”

  “In most instances that would be true.” He gave her a weak smile. “But I am king, and I give the rule over to you.” He met her gaze almost desperately.

  “I would like the time to know you better. There is so much you could teach me.”

  “Thalia,” his hand tightened on hers. “I am growing weaker. There is no time.”

  She lowered her head. “Cannot the physician—”

  “Nay. Do not look for hope of that nature. We must face this reality, you and I.”

  She raised her head and met his gaze. “What is the reality?”

  “You shall become queen tomorrow. I would have seen you crowned this day, but it was important that you see the results of the war that ravages this land. I would like to give you more time to grow accustomed to the responsibilities you must shoulder, but I dare not.”

  “After visiting the ruins of the city today, I began to see the truth. I will do as you think best.”

  “And you will take Count Ashtyn as your husband as soon as the crown is set upon your head?”

  She thought of being Ashtyn’s wife, of being in his arms, having him hold her, and it made her ache inside. “I will agree to all you say, but only after I speak to him and know his true feelings on the matter. I believe you do him a great wrong in betrothing him to me, grandfather. He loves another and would wed her if he were free to do so.”

  The king frowned, trying to recall if he’d ever seen Ashtyn pay particular attention to any maiden. “None of that is important. Count Ashtyn will do his duty. He always has.”

  Thalia’s gaze bore into his, and she remembered the woman Ashtyn had spoken of. “I will give him the choice that you never gave him.”

  “Like you, he will choose what is best for Bal Forea.”

  “If there is a woman he loves, I need not marry him to reap the benefits of his knowledge. I want him to marry where his heart takes him.”

  The king opened his mouth to speak, but Thalia held up her hand to silence him. “I will say no more about Count Ashtyn. Have Lord Parinez make whatever arrangements you deem necessary, and I will obey.”

  “It must be soon.”

  “You can rest now, grandfather.”

  “Aye. Because you are here, I can now loosen my grip on the crown, granddaughter.”

  Thalia stood and swung around with the intention of leaving, but then she turned to the physician. “How serious is my grandfather’s illness?”

  The man’s soft brown eyes settled on her, and he bowed. “If you are asking me if he has many days left, I would have to say no. His majesty endures only so he can see the crown of Bal Forea placed on your head.”

  Thalia nodded to the high chamberlain. “Lord Parinez, I will need your help in the days ahead. I ask you to serve me as you served my grandfather. Instruct me on what I must do as queen.”

  The lord chamberlain swept her a low bow, but not before she saw his eyes glitter with tears. “I am yours to command, Most Gracious Highness.”

  She leaned closer to him and whispered, “I would like you to accompany me now. I do not know the way to my chambers, and there are questions I would ask of you about the ceremony.”

  With a twinkle in his eyes, he swept his hand toward the door. “I would be honored if you will allow me to guide you, Highness.”

  King Melik gazed long and hard at his young general. He had watched Ashtyn grow to manhood, and he was certain of his bravery and honor. The young man had led many hard-fought battles, and his name was legendary among his own people as well as the rebels. He had no doubt the capital city of Harjah would have fallen long ago but for Ashtyn’s ingenious strategy.

  “Before sundown tomorrow my granddaughter will be crowned queen.”

  Ashtyn drew in a relieved breath. “I hoped she would see the wisdom in ascending to the throne.”

  “I ask that you serve her as loyally as you served me. At the moment, she is frightened and overwhelmed, and has no real notion that her mere presence on Bal Forea will turn the tide of war.” The old man looked into Ashtyn’s eyes. “What do you think of my granddaughter?”

  “I came to know the princess on our voyage to Bal Forea—her mind is quick, and she learns swiftly. In time, she will make a good ruler. I admire her greatly.”

  The king’s crafty eyes fastened on Ashtyn as he asked, “Is mere admiration enough for you to be husband to her?”

  “Majesty, I feel more for her than—” He looked puzzled for a moment. “The princess has already said she will not marry me, so we need not go into my feelings for her.”

  The king stared at the mural of constellations above his bed. “My granddaughter will need you in the days to come. Stand by her—be friend and adviser to her. Become her husband so Sevilin will no longer be a danger to her.”

  Ashtyn bowed. “I will always give my advice when asked. But I cannot allow you to force her to take me as a husband. There are other ways to keep Sevilin from trying to use her as a pawn.”

  “Such as?”

  “Keeping guards about her at all times.”

  “Nay. Even among your guards you cannot be sure who is trustworthy. Marry Thalia and bed her. Plant your seed in her and secure the throne of Bal Forea for my bloodline.”

  Ashtyn shook his head. “I do not think there will be a marriage between the princess and myself.”

  The old man turned his head away. He was certain Thalia had feelings for his general. But she was stubborn and would have her way. “The need for sleep fogs my brain. I want to be strong enough to attend my granddaughter’s coronation.”

  “If you will forgive me, Majesty,” Ashtyn said, “I have matters that demand my attention.”

  “Report back to me when you have news of the last battle. I heard it did not go well.”

  “Aye, Majesty.”

  Lord Parinez accompanied Thalia back to her quarters and remained with her for a time, explaining her role in the coronation ceremony. After he left, Thalia wearily sought her bed. Tomorrow would be a difficult day.

  As she sank into the softness of the bed, her thoughts went to her family back in Egypt. What would her mother advise her to do? And Ramtat, would he approve of her actions?

  With heaviness in her heart, she found no answers, and finally fell into a weary sleep.

  Before the sun rose, five handmaidens swarmed around Thalia with Uzza directing them in their duties. Thalia’s skin was rubbed with oil of myrrh, and her hair washed
in lamb’s milk. She was accustomed to dressing in fine robes to visit Cleopatra’s court, but she had never worn such an ornate garment. Her gown was made of white royal linen and interwoven with threaded gold. Her hair hung down her back in golden ringlets, and her only adornment was a gold circlet crown. When Thalia stood before the beaten silver mirror, she hardly recognized herself.

  Her mouth trembled, and she closed her eyes, wishing for her mother. At last, she raised her head and nodded to Uzza.

  “I am ready.”

  When Thalia stepped out of her chamber, Ashtyn and seven other guards bowed to her. “We are your guards of honor, Highness,” he said, nodding to the other soldiers behind him.

  Thalia could not meet Ashtyn’s eyes, lest he see her fear. As she stepped forward, the sounds of leather sandal-boots on the marble floor matched the beating of her heart.

  When Thalia came to the throne chamber, she raised her head as the lord chamberlain announced her approach to the high lords and ladies who had been called to witness the coronation. “Make way for Princess Thalia. Make way for her glory. Stand and witness the crowning of your new queen!”

  She could feel many pairs of eyes on her, and all she could think about was the burden she would assume when the crown was placed on her head. With it came many responsibilities and sorrows. Her life would no longer be her own, but would belong to Bal Forea.

  Thalia walked with her head held regally erect, remembering how Queen Cleopatra always looked so confident with the heavy double crown of Egypt on her head.

  Lord Parinez had sent her word that the king had taken a turn for the worse during the night. Thalia was disappointed that her grandfather was unable to witness the ceremony that meant so much to him.

  The guard of honor halted, and only the lord chamberlain accompanied Thalia to the steps that led to the rustic throne, which had been carved from a tamarisk tree. The only adornment was a magnificent golden hawk perched atop a crown that had been inlaid into the wood. A young boy held a red silk pillow and atop it lay a crown, glittering with precious stones.