by Naomi Ruppin
Amisi came out to stand beside me, following my gaze to look up at the palace.
“Can you show me where it happened?” I asked.
Amisi was breathing quickly and clenching her fists, but she gave a short nod and led me around the building to where there was a second path through the bushes, closer to the palace.
“I have not come this way since then,” she said. “Now I only go in from the other side.”
She walked along the wall of bushes for a few more paces and stopped.
“It was here, or near to here. I heard a noise and at first I thought it was an animal. Then I saw him. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into the bushes. I was so afraid, I only felt the scratches later. He said…he did…all what I told you. Then he waited to be sure no one was walking near, and he left me on the ground.”
I examined the place Amisi had indicated. I squeezed between two jasmine bushes, the branches catching at my clothes, and knelt on the narrow strip of ground between the jasmine and castor bushes. I lay on my back and was assailed by thoughts of Nathan’s crushing weight and wine-reeking breath. I could see nothing but green leaves. The smell of the latrine was suffocating. I sat up and brushed the dirt from my back. I was about to crawl out of the bushes when something red caught my eye. At first I thought it was a dried castor flower. But the castors bloomed in the summer, and their fallen blossoms had long since rotted. I tried to pick up the shred of red, but it was stuck in the ground. I tugged at it and dug at the surrounding soil until the object was revealed. It was a man’s left shoe. It was damp and soiled; it appeared to have been buried for some time. It had a leather sole and an upper layer of thick cloth, dyed red and embroidered with beads. At the end of the pointed toe, there was a tassel of slim leather threads, like a tiny horsetail. I caught my breath, then scrabbled around in the dirt looking for its pair, but found none. Finally I fought my way back through the jasmine and stood beside Amisi, dirty, scratched and panting. I held up the shoe for her to see.
“Is this his?” I asked.
She took it from me, pinching the tassel between thumb and forefinger and stretching her arm out as if she were holding a dead rat by the tail.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t see his shoes.”
I noticed she was trembling and I recalled her physical weakness and her raw grief.
“Let’s go,” I said, taking back the shoe and putting an arm around her shoulders. I accompanied her to her tent and entrusted her to Khepri’s care. Then I returned to my own tent.
Following Khepri’s example, I hid the shoe under my mattress and sat down hard on it, as if it might try to escape. I realized I might be sitting on the lone piece of evidence that Nathan had raped Amisi. The shoe was certainly of the overly-ornate style that he favored. On the other hand, finding it could simply be a coincidence and might have nothing whatever to do with the matter.
After the midday meal, I stood outside Moth’s window and knocked on his shutters. I heard nothing but a heavy silence from the men’s wing, so I wasn’t surprised when there was no answer—the men hadn’t yet returned from the funeral. I climbed through the window and went to sit on Moth’s bed. His room was spare—it contained only a bed, a stool, a small table, and two long shelves. The lower shelf held sloppy piles of indifferently folded clothes, some dripping off the shelf and onto the floor. I refolded them neatly. On the upper shelf were Moth’s few treasures: a slingshot, a small bronze shield etched with a six-pointed star, which had been a prize for a footrace he’d won, a blanket that his mother had embroidered for him, and the clumsy Jang-Cheh set we’d made together years before. Moth had sanded the wooden board, scored lines into it and charred every other square—our fingers were always black at the end of a game. I had made the clay pieces, which were so badly sculpted that it was hard to tell the sheep from the goats.
I had just set the board on the small table to play against myself when I heard voices, and Moth and Timna entered the room. Timna was carrying a plate of food.
“Oh,” Timna said when she saw me. “Good day, lady. Should you be in here?”
“What are you doing here?” I countered.
“I was just bringing Joel some food. I thought he might have missed lunch.”
“Which I did.” Moth smiled at her.
I took the plate from her with one hand, held the door open with the other and said, “Thank you, Timna.”
She looked uncertainly at Moth, then dipped her head and left. I shut the door after her.
“Well, that was rude,” Moth said.
“Move the Jang-Cheh so I can put the plate down. So, a hundred men missed lunch but she only thought to bring you food?”
“She likes me. And I like her.” Moth drew the stool up to the table and began to eat. “Do you have any objection?”
I sat on the bed.
“Why should I? Never mind. How are you? How…how was it?”
“Sad. Crowded. Tense. All the women in the village were wailing. Gideon’s men were there, and all of us boys. The king wasn’t. I guess he didn’t have the blood to show his face. People were muttering about what happened, and what might still happen. But mostly they kept quiet out of respect.”
I waited for Moth to finish his food before I spoke again.
“I have a lot of news about the investigation. But I don’t have to tell you now, if you’d rather not.”
“No, it’s fine. I want to hear it.”
“Very well.”
I took a deep breath and told him everything that had happened the night before, starting with Khepri’s second appearance outside my tent. When I started to talk about Gideon, Moth’s expression grew stony. He got up and stood with his back to me, rearranging the Jang-Cheh pieces so that they stood only on black squares instead of lined up on opposite sides of the board. He took out the leather pouch containing his dagger and spun it around by its drawstring. Then he took the dagger out and began flipping it in the air, catching it by its handle.
I watched him tensely without comment for as long as I could stand to, then said, “Moth. You’ll slice your fingers off.”
“No I won’t. Go on.”
“That’s it. That’s everything.”
He flipped the dagger three more times, then sheathed it.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“I don’t believe it.”
“What? What part don’t you believe?”
“Any of it. I don’t believe Gideon would do anything that even smells of treason. I don’t believe Nathan, lecherous old goat though he is, would be so stupid as to touch the king’s wife under his own roof.”
“Then who’s the father?”
“Khepri, like we said. I think they made up the story about Nathan to cover up their own affair.”
“I still don’t know for sure that Khepri’s not a eunuch. And if they made up the story about Nathan, why would they need to drag Gideon into it? Amisi admitted she’d been in love with Gideon of her own free will. For all we know, she might die for it.”
“What about what Khepri said, about loving someone in the palace? What about that tapestry you found?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask him.”
“Well, I say now’s the time! And I’m coming with you.”
“Don’t you trust my judgment?” I was getting annoyed at Moth’s stubborn refusal to think logically, restraining myself from calling him a fool only because I knew how deeply he was grieving for Gideon.
“I don’t trust Khepri.”
“I’m telling you, you’re wrong!”
“We’ll see about that.”
We left Moth’s room, he through the door and I out the window, and met up again outside the door to Khepri’s sewing room. I was about to knock when Moth stepped in front of me and burst into the room. Khepri was working on the hem of a linen tunic. His face was once again smoothly painted and the kohl lines above and beneath his eyes were crisply drawn. He must have regained some of his composure after the intensity of
our meeting the night before, because he looked up at Moth’s belligerent expression with eyes brimming with amusement, held out his crossed wrists and said, “Have you to come to drag me off to the city gates?”
“I’ve come to hear a few things for myself,” Moth said grimly. “Abigail is clever, but she’s too trusting, and she can still get things wrong. I have a few questions for you.”
“Hush, Moth,” I said in irritation. “This is my responsibility, not yours.”
“It’s fine, Abigail,” Khepri said, putting down his sewing. “Why don’t you both have a seat?”
“No, it’s not,” I said. “Moth, when I need your help, I’ll ask for it. Khepri, first I have to confess something.”
Moth and I sat across the table from Khepri and I went on.
“After that night on the balcony, I…had certain suspicions about you. I’m not proud of this, but I searched your room. I found the little tapestry under your mattress. And the…and your…razor, I think. I’m sorry. At the time I thought you and Amisi…well, you know already.”
A shadow passed over Khepri’s face.
“I’m very sorry,” I said again. “I was desperate to find the truth.”
“What are you hiding?” Moth demanded.
I kicked him under the table, hard.
“Do you want him to leave?” I asked Khepri.
He shook his head and said, “I was prepared to tell you everything. And I can see you two keep no secrets, so Joel may as well hear this straight from me. You were right, Abigail; I’m not a eunuch.”
I had been holding my breath. Now I let it out in a gust.
“Why have you been lying all these years?” Moth burst in again.
“Hush, Moth,” I said, and nodded at Khepri to continue.
“I’d better start at the beginning,” Khepri said. Unusually for him, he seemed to be having trouble finding words. He laced his fingers together, then rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, shook his head and sighed.
“You’re both very young,” he said, “and you’ve lived sheltered lives. I’m not sure how much of what I have to say will come as news to you, or shock you. But I need you to understand and to believe me, for Amisi’s sake.
“I was born a slave in Egypt. My mother was a slave in the house of a merchant, a purveyor of precious stones and metals. I have no memory of my father—he was also a slave, who died when I was a small child. It was my mother who taught me my sewing skills. When I was a little younger than you, perhaps twelve or thirteen, I fell in love with my master’s son.”
Khepri paused for a moment and looked first at me, then at Moth.
“You mean your master’s daughter?” Moth asked.
“No, I mean my master’s son. He was a few years older than me.”
I studied the table as if something fascinating were written on it, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Moth doing the same. I had heard about men who loved men, but always in scandalized whispers. When acted upon this was, in my country at least, punishable by death.
“It’s much more common than you might think,” Khepri went on. “And in Egypt it’s not a crime. But when my master found out about me and Tefnut, he was furious. First because he was planning on an advantageous match for Tefnut with the daughter of a high-ranking court official. And second, he was disgusted that his son would stoop to a liaison with a slave. My master decided to get rid of me, so he sold me to the first person who made him an offer. Afterwards I never saw my mother or Tefnut again.
“My new master was also a merchant, but one who traveled from land to land to sell his wares. I soon found out why he’d taken a particular interest in me. He would force himself on me regularly. I quickly came to fear and loathe him. His name was Sett.
“Sett’s travels brought him to the palace, this palace. He sold many curious and clever objects: abaci, tiny scales for weighing jewels, ruled rods for measuring lengths, trick boxes, bits of jeweled silver that could be assembled in the shapes of animals—just the sort of things that appeal greatly to King Solomon. The king hosted Sett for two days. I would bring out his treasures one by one and Sett displayed them to the king. During this time, the king must have noticed how much I hated my master. Once I saw him looking at the back of my robe, and when I looked myself I saw that it was stained with dried blood. When the king discovered that I was Sett’s tailor he admired Sett’s clothes extravagantly, then insisted that he must have me too or there would be no sale. Sett stood to gain or lose a very large amount of gold. He agreed. And that is how I came to live in the palace.”
Khepri looked at me and went on, “I know you have much to say against your father, and I often do too. But he saved me from Sett, and for that I will be forever grateful to him.”
Khepri took up his sewing again and added a few stitches.
“But why did you…” I prompted
“I’m getting to that,” Khepri replied. “I served as the king’s body servant, tailor and go-between to his wives. He gave me my own little room in the palace, so I could be quickly summoned to his chambers or the women’s court at any time. I was the only male servant allowed into the women’s court, a fact which at the time I attributed to my young age. I think I may say that the king grew fond of me. Once I learned your language and could converse with him, I was the only person who could truly amuse him. Now I believe there is another.”
“Who’s that?” I asked, mentally scanning the women’s court for any notable wits.
“You, dear one.” Khepri smiled at me.
My eyebrows rose in surprise and interest.
“Go on with your story,” Moth said, putting a heavy burden of scorn on the last word.
Khepri didn’t react to this, but continued. “One day when I was pouring the king some wine, I saw him look at me and frown. He told me to leave the wine and come closer, which I did, wondering what I’d done to displease him. He put out his hand and stroked my upper lip and my cheek. It was the only time he has ever touched me.”
“Whiskers!” I said. “You’d started to grow whiskers?”
“Yes. He said: ‘Your former master said you are a eunuch. Is this not so?’ I was not familiar with the word, so he explained. Then I understood the source of confusion. In Egyptian, the word has several interpretations. It can simply mean a personal servant or courtier. Innocent child that I was, I told him the whole story, from my relationship with Tefnut to Sett’s abuse. The latter he had already surmised. But the former came as a surprise, and clearly not a pleasant one. He ordered me to go to my room and come back in the evening.
“I did not know of your laws concerning men like me, but from the king’s reaction, I could guess. When I went back to the king’s chambers that evening, I was nearly in tears. There was a knife on the table before the king. He picked it up and beckoned me to come near. I had never been so frightened, not even with Sett. Then he handed me the knife and said: ‘Khepri, this is yours now. I am trusting you with it, as I am trusting you with my wives. But you must promise me three things. First, you must shave your face every day. I’ve never shaved, so you will have to teach yourself how. Second, you must never tell anyone the things we spoke about before. It would cost you your life. Do you promise?’ ‘I promise, my lord,’ I said. ‘And what is the third thing?’ ‘You must never fall in love,’ he said, ‘or if you do, you must keep it to yourself.’”
Moth and I remained silent, absorbing this startling confession.
“I’ve kept my promises, for the most part, until today,” Khepri added.
There was still one mystery left to resolve. Moth beat me to the question.
“What about the tapestry Abigail found?” he demanded. “What about ‘loving someone in the palace’?”
Khepri had looked at us steadily throughout the telling of his story. Now he dropped his gaze.
“Is it not obvious?” he said softly.
“The king,” I said. “You love the king?”
“I do, and have ever since he sa
ved me. He has kindness in him, known and shown to few. His life has taught him not to expect kindness or loyalty from others. As for the tapestry, he is the lily. The six-pointed star.” Khepri heaved a deep sigh and went on. “I can only hope you believe that I speak the truth. And now that you know it, my life as well as Amisi’s is in your hands.”
Moth and I left Khepri’s sewing room and circled around the palace rather than entering through the kitchen. We walked in silence at first, trying to absorb all that we’d heard.
“Well, now do you believe Khepri’s innocent?” I finally asked.
Moth scoffed. “I’m not sure that’s what I’d call it.”
“But you believe he’s not the father?”
“I wouldn’t stake my life on that either.”
“Oh, Moth, you’re stubborn as an ox! Why would he make up such a strange story, and one that could get him killed?”
“Because if we swallow it, it could save him from being killed.”
“If it’s a lie, I have only to ask the king in order to expose it.”
Moth kicked a stone along the path for a few paces before saying grudgingly, “I guess that’s true. Let’s assume for a moment that Khepri really is just a freak who loves the king, another man, and one with a thousand wives.”
“Four hundred and sixty-six. And don’t call him that! I know it’s…strange, but I guess people like him aren’t unusual in Egypt.”
“Well, here he’s a freak.”
“The king trusts him. He’s not hurting anyone. And don’t you tell anyone!” I punched Moth in the shoulder for emphasis.
“I won’t. For now. Anyway, if you’re so sure Nathan’s the father, what are you going to do about that leprous dog?”
“I’m not sure. It’s Amisi’s word against his. And it looks bad for her to suddenly be speaking out after all this time. I’ll need to find proof that he raped her.”
“Impossible. You said there were no witnesses. Which means that you could end up marrying him. I know you won’t like it, but there’s really only one thing to do.”
“What? I’ll try anything.”
“I’ll have to kill him,” Moth said, smashing his right fist into his left palm.