Asenath (21 page)

I dropped to the ground and snatched it up to safety. I was about to get up when she charged toward me, screaming and cursing at the top of her lungs.

I rolled out of the way. She tripped on one of the storage chests and fell flat on her face. She looked so ridiculous that if she had not been trying to murder me, I would have had a hearty laugh.

I rose. "Give it up, Zalikha. It's just not worth it anymore."

She lay still as if dead. I hurried back to Nafre, untied her and whispered to her to run get help.

As soon as she disappeared out the tent, a cry erupted behind me.

I was about to turn around when I was shoved to the ground. Zalikha wrapped her fingers around my neck. She began strangling me.

I screamed. She slammed my face to the ground. A warm liquid seeped from my nose and I tasted blood.

A flurry of footsteps entered the tent. Zalikha's lethal fingers loosened their grip and fell away from me. I collapsed, coughing violently.

"Woman, what's gotten into you?" Lord Potiphar roared.

"Asenath, are you all right?" Father asked.

Gentle hands took my arms and helped me up. I assumed it was Father since it was his voice I last heard. I looked up.

A soft
clang
resonated in my mind's ear.

Joseph knelt before me. He drew out a handkerchief and dabbed at my face. "You're bleeding. Not too badly, fortunately."

His voice was like a soft embrace.

He put the handkerchief aside and took my hands into his. "Are you all right now?"

"Yes."

This was so much like the day Joseph and I first met. The chaos faded away. Now, all I was aware of was his warm loving glow and his beautiful hazel-olive eyes.

"I think fame has gotten into Asenath's head," Zalikha said. "I just came over to congratulate her when she turned on me and attacked me. That that ungrateful little bitch!"

"Don't you dare talk about my daughter that way," Father said.

Behind him Pharaoh stood, frowning.

"Calm down, woman," Lord Potiphar said. "There is no need for that sort of language."

Joseph looked up at her. He opened his mouth to speak.

At that moment, it seemed the world held its breath.

Now, he was now going to exact his revenge. I could not wait to hear what he had in store for the woman who had ruined his life. It was bound to be brutal, no doubt. She deserved it so.

"My lady," he said. "You look like you have been through a great deal. You need some rest."

I was beyond shocked.

I saw on the faces of the witnesses that they felt as I did.

I searched Joseph's face for traces of sarcasm and mockery. There were none.

This was unbelievable.

This
might as well have been the drama everyone had come to see.

Zalikha stared at me and Joseph. I noticed she was no longer as beautiful as she had been before. Her blue eyes, which once sparkled like the many ornaments she wore, were now bloodshot. Her skin sagged. Her lips were cracked. And just as Joseph said, she did indeed look haggard and exhausted.

She turned her back to us. I heard sniffing. I wondered if she still dared put on her crocodile tears.

She turned to face us once more. "Lady Asenath never attacked me. More importantly, Lord Zaphenath-Paneah never tried to rape me. It was
I
who initiated everything."

Everyone gasped.

She dried her eyes. She smiled at Joseph. "You look as irresistible as ever, my lord."

"Still at it, Zalikha?" Potiphar said.

She turned to him a poisonous look. "You were never there for me, you know. You were always away at some army campaign, or impressing Pharaoh at the Palace. And of course, you had to go get yourself mutilated."

The witnesses, including myself, burst into cries of horror and disgust.

Potiphar remained coolly dignified. "Zalikha, just get over it. Move on.
Move on
."

Zalikha glared at him. Then she walked out of the tent.

Some people followed her.

I heard screams.

Joseph and I leapt up and hurried outside.

The stage had been set on fire. Zalikha stood beside it, holding up a torch and grinning madly.

She began to head around the stage when the palace guards sprung up and seized her. Servants, meanwhile, hurried to put out the flames.

My parents appeared. "Asenath, we are going home.
Now
," Father said.

"But―"

"We have to dress your injuries. Come."

"But I'm not even―"

He plucked me from Joseph and hurried me to where our litters waited.

"What about the play?" I asked.

"Pharaoh is postponing the event." He practically shoved me into the litter carriage and drew the curtain close. "Take her home."

I was afraid Father was just making this up. But later, Mother confirmed this. After all, the stage was in no condition to be performed on.

The following day, Mother said to me, "Asenath, it has finally happened."

"What?"

"Lord Potiphar has divorced his wife."

The news was so sudden, I did not know what to make of it. "What is going to happen to her now?"

Mother shrugged. "Who knows? All I can say is, good for him."

"Indeed. Although he should have done it ages ago."

"Yes, but as you know, there were those hindrances."

After that, I never saw Lady Zalikha again. Some said she left Egypt. Whatever really became of her, I never knew.

For a while, I still felt anxious whenever I saw one of her friends or relatives looking at me strangely. But this was a feeling borne only out of habit. As time wore on, it lessened and was soon no more than a tiny ink spot on a parchment.

It took a while for the feast to be rescheduled, for half the stage had been damaged by the flames. I felt bad for the crew, knowing how hard they had worked on it. I had seen them labouring away at all hours.

One day, I was relaxing with my pets in my room when Mother appeared. "Asenath, you have a visitor."

I looked at her in surprise, wondering why she was doing the servants' job. "Who?"

She smiled and stepped aside.

It was
him
.

I nearly fell off the couch.

My pets scampered over to him. He bent down and patted their heads.

I rose to give the vizier the proper greeting due him. He held up his hand.

"Please don't trouble yourself," he said. "It's quite all right."

He took a seat across from me, next to the unusual fish vase. "How are you, Asenath? I hope you have not been hurt too badly."

"Not at all. Thank you so much for helping me that night." I gave him a grateful smile.

"Thank you for all
you've
done for me."

"What do you mean? I haven't done anything."

"Asenath, Queen Ahmose was right. You
do
underestimate yourself."

I shrugged. "I honestly don't know what you are talking about. But I am glad everything worked out for you."

"I feel sorry for Lady Zalikha though," he said quietly.

"
Lady Zalikha?
After everything she did to us—to
you
?"

"Yes. She was a very unhappy woman, Asenath. I remember I would often overhear her weeping in her room. While her husband loved her, he always put his work first."

He shook his head sadly. "The two of them would get into really violent quarrels too. At times, I even had to intervene with the guards. The servants, especially the young ones, would get so scared. I told them to go hide in their rooms until it was over."

I suppose I have to admit, when I saw Lady Zalikha being dragged off that night, I could not help a pang of sympathy. Why? I couldn't imagine. I suppose there was something about the way her body was hanging limply or how her reddened eyes were bagged and heavy with misfortune.

Joseph and I were quiet for a while.

Mother reappeared. "Would you two like a light meal in the garden?"

Joseph smiled. "That would be lovely. Thank you, my lady."

I held back a sigh. We were
forever
getting interrupted.

The afternoon, however, was pleasant and lovely. The three of us sat in the pavilion, speaking of light-hearted things and feasting on sherbet and honey cakes. Birds sang from the trees. A breeze carried over to us the scent of the flowers. My pets frolicked nearby.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Mother asked Joseph later.

"I would love to, my lady. Alas, I shall have to decline, for Pharaoh has scheduled a meeting with me. But thank you for your most kind invitation."

"Doesn't Pharaoh make enormous demands of you," Mother said, giving voice to my thoughts.

"Well." Joseph shrugged his broad shoulders. "As I've told Asenath, the vizier's work is never done."

"But don't overwork yourself, dear," Mother said. "I know you are eager to prepare for the famine, but you must also take time for yourself. Also, get enough sleep, eat the right foods." And on she went with the typical motherly badgering.

We chatted a bit more, then Joseph had to leave. Mother and I saw him off. Afterward, she turned to me with a grin. "I approve."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm sure you know
who
I'm talking about, daughter."

I blushed. "He's a good man, isn't he?"

"He is. And very handsome."

"It doesn't bother you that he's a Hebrew, with a different faith and customs? And that he's, well, you know, that his people are sheepherders?"

"Honestly, no. Not anymore. From what I've learned about him, I have no doubt he will treat you well."

I grinned.

Mother said, "But Asenath, know that your father loves you too. I know his ideas don't always mesh with ours, but he wants nothing but the best for you."

I shrugged. Deep down inside though, I knew Father did love me just as I loved him. But at that moment, it was difficult to feel any affection toward him.

"I have to tell you something. But please keep it between us." She winked. "He was very pleased to see Joseph helping you that night. I daresay, I wouldn't be surprised if he has already changed his mind about him. Perhaps he already has, though he wouldn't dare admit it."

We both laughed.

Mother clasped my arm. "Follow your dream, Asenath. Don't let it go. Don't let
him
go."

"I won't."

Rawosre took advantage of the delay to rehearse us further until he was confident we could play the roles even in our sleep. Soon, everyone was gathered in the Palace courtyard once again. This time, the security was tighter. But I still worried another mishap would occur.

We assembled backstage. Rawosre said, "All right. This is it. The best of luck to all of you and may the gods be with you."

He entered the stage to introduce the play. Afterward, my fellow cast members shuffled in for the opening scene—the banquet in which Seth captures Osiris and kills him.

As I watched from the wings, I felt a prickly rush of excitement. Everything looked more beautiful than I expected. The props were brightly lit up. The moat rippled and shimmered. My fellow actors looked like the gods themselves. They played their parts very well too.

At the end, Seth sealed Osiris in a coffin. Everyone left the stage. This was the cue for my first appearance.

I took a deep breath and glided in, as I had been taught.

The audience gasped.

I paused, fearing I had done something wrong. But like Rawosre advised, the only thing to do after making a mistake was to simply continue. So I did.

The audience was shrouded in complete darkness. I could not even see those in the front row. But I knew that just a few feet away, Joseph was watching.

I moved around the stage, as if searching for Osiris' coffin. I drifted toward it and stroked it in a loving gesture. Then I disappeared backstage.

Seth reappeared to hack Osiris to bits. Of course, there wouldn't be any actual killing. But the crew had still managed to make it as gory as possible. They had fashioned realistic-looking body parts which Seth would be tossing into the audience.

Throughout that scene, I heard a lot of shrieking and laughing. One man made a loud crude joke. It was obvious which part of Osiris' anatomy had landed on him.

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.