HETAERA: Daughter of the Gods (37 page)

I gave myself to him completely.

It was many long hours before either of us could
trust ourselves to speak again.

“Rhodopis. Do you love me?” he asked, at long last
when we were finished.

“Oh,” I breathed. “How could I not?”

“You know I must have my Great Wife. The people
demand it.” He sighed.

I did know, though my heart railed against it.

 “Raise up whomever you must,” I said. The
languorous ease of our lovemaking now spent, I spoke the words that would give
him away, and thus keep Egypt safe. “You must choose another, for Egypt to
prevail.”

“You are a beautiful woman, Rhodopis. And too
proud, by half.” He gave a dry laugh, a sound I never thought to hear. “I have
decided. Do you not see? You are the goddess the people have dreamed of. They
see your worth, as I do. They will support this—and they will support Egypt
against her aggressors.”

“Me? You cannot!” I sat up. “The others? The royal
families will never agree…” I could not believe my ears.

We were quiet a long moment, there in the dark.

“Rhodopis, the royal houses cannot agree on
anything. But the gods have already spoken to me of their choice. Horus has
made all clear. I am but their humble vessel.”

I sucked air between my teeth. How could I tell
him I was the cause of the gods sign? Could it be true? My heart pounded. I
could scarce draw breath for fear of shattering the perfection of this moment.

“The slipper.” I said.

“It is a true herald from Horus,” Amasis
continued. “It cannot have been clearer than at the temple. Still, I am a man,
Rhodopis. I am wise enough to know whose slipper I hold in my grasp. It is
yours.”

My cheeks burned and I hid my face in my hands.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“Did I not tell you I’d news of you? I knew that
you were the woman of Charaxus the Greek. And there was another…a scribe of
some kind. He and his wife have both come forth to declare you as the proper
owner of the slipper, for they saw you dance long ago in their household. I
should like to have seen that, I think.” And he chuckled low.

My mind worked furiously. It must have been Isesi
and his wife Wakheptry, she who had sheltered me so long ago. And now Amasis
wished to pose me as the choice of the gods?

“Nesu, for all my careful hiding of the other
slipper, I fear it has been stolen away. I cannot prove they were ever mine.”

Amasis breathed against my cheek. “No matter. The
slipper at the palace will fit you, Rhodopis. The people will see this for themselves.”

“But is it wise? You must think of Egypt. I swear
for my love of you, the people will not hear of this from my lips.” I promised.
“You are still free to choose another queen!”

“You are more than the ‘Treasure of Naukratis’,
Rhodopis. You are the ‘Treasure of Egypt’. No, the gods themselves have led you
to me. I am certain.” His fingers stroked my cheek. “Come to the Festival of
the Harvest, and don the sign from the gods. I shall put you forth as my Great Wife.”

Could it work? Egyptians were a reverent people. My
heart swelled. I dared not hope it could be.

“Are you certain it is the will of the gods,
then?” I asked. “And that is why you come to me now?”

Amasis made a noise, low in his throat. “You
question my ardor? I come to you like a thief in the night, to steal kisses
from your lips and it is my heart you question? I know you, Rhodopis and now I
would know your heart’s desire. What of you? Would you marry me now that Persia
descends upon our nation like locusts? Our life will not be one of leisure. Would
you give up your freedom for a marriage bed?”

Freedom? It seemed a paltry thing, compared to the
exquisite feel of his hands on my body. His voice in my ears. All logic flew
from out of my head. A vision of Amasis and I playing
senet
in
our fine palace apartments flashed before my eyes. Our children leaned against
my knees. Children with copper skin and grey-green eyes.

What could I say, but that my heart cared little
for the scourge of the mighty Kourosh? His armies may not touch me, but I could
not withstand the barrage of my own heart’s longing. Amasis, a former soldier,
would not appreciate such woman’s sentiments.

“I am yours to command, always.” I twined my
fingers in his and pulled him toward me as the sun broke over the sand dunes.

I could see him now, a shadowy figure suddenly
serious in the dawn. He moved atop me once again, his face scant inches above
mine. “And if I ask you, not as your Nesu, but as a simple man? I want only
truth from your lips, Rhodopis.” And he kissed me again.

The whole of his body covered me, created a warm
cocoon in which I felt certain and safe from harm. What did I care what the
future held? I shifted in pleasure, and felt him stiffening against my
womanhood. My thighs parted willingly and I wrapped them tightly around him, as
if to shut out the world with my embrace.

And I would, too. I would have him, for any
reason.

“You cannot be that other than what you are, Nesu.
My answer does not change. I am yours.”

Amasis laughed at that. “From your mouth to the
gods’ ears. So be it.”

*** ***

In the morning, none of the servants acted any
different, but Mara avoided me during our meal. I waited until the platters
were cleared and my near sister and I were safely ensconced in my chambers
before approaching her.

“You seem out of sorts, Mara.” I kept my voice
neutral.

“I should say the same of you. Your lips are as
red and swollen as grapes.” She dropped the lid of my cosmetics case and
latched it shut. “What did you think you were doing last night?”

“Mara, I’m sorry. I don’t know how much you
overheard.”

“Enough. How could you do it?”

“I...I couldn’t help myself. I love him, Mara.”

“You said you loved me!” The look on her face
seared me.

“I do, dearest. Ours is an affection long borne of
a shared remembrance. You will always be my near sister. But...this is
different.” I could see by the set of Mara’s jaw that she would not understand.
As much as I loved Mara, her affection did not fill my soul. She was not
enough. “There are things that I would share with him, Mara. Things that near
sisters cannot.”

“Like children?”

I could not deny it. I had dreamed of such last
night in Amasis’ arms. I stared at her without speaking.

“Forget it.” Mara waved her hand. “Your face has
blossomed like a rose in the morning dew. Here.” She thrust my combs at me. “I will
be gone most of the day. I must attend Ladice’s preparations at the palace
until evening.”

“Mara, wait,” I called to her retreating back. She
pretended not to hear me.

She did not return to my household until the
Festival of the Harvest began. Amasis planned to address the noble houses after
the temple blessing; I was to attend and to try on the slipper before all
assembled. In this way, we reasoned, the other royal families could not deny us
their support.

That afternoon, as I called for a litter to be
brought, Mara startled me at the door, fully dressed in her best gown with a
thin necklace of beads around her neck. Her eyes were red rimmed.

“What are you about?” I asked. “You detest these
celebrations.”

Mara settled my
peplos
around my
shoulders. “I won’t send you to the jackals alone, Dori.”

“There is no need,” I said. “You cannot protect my
heart, and that is all I am in danger of wounding. Amasis believes the people
will follow.”

“I’m coming with you.” She shouldered a small satchel
and compressed her lips in a manner that meant she’d resolved herself.

I sighed. “As you wish.”

We arrived just as the Festival at the Temple of
Horus had begun. Hundreds thronged up the temple steps to the center courtyard.
The city was in high fervor as the yoke of invasion descended our shoulders. For
the will of the gods was upon us all. Moods were made falsely light and easy
between the sects and a unifying urge for safety precluded old disputes.

As a favored guest, I was ushered to the front, nearest
the entrance to the inner sanctum, where a dais had been raised. Mara trailed
behind me like a shadow. Amasis sat upon his gilded throne, tapping his fingers
on one knee, with the rose-gold slipper resting on a cushion in the hands of
his royal bearer just behind. Torchlight gleamed along its fine surface, as if
to beckon me forth. But decorum bade me wait until all of Amasis wives and half
the courts should try it for themselves.

So, I waited.

I moved wordlessly through knots of courtyard
conversations and the shadows of the immense columns of the temple. I tried to
ignore the curious glances thrown my way. Mara materialized and slipped her
hand in mind to pull me to one side.

“Ladice wishes to welcome you.” She kissed my
cheek and disappeared. I spied Ladice to the side of the courtyard with her
back to me.

“Flower of Cyrene.” I greeted her, kissing her
cheeks.

“Oh…oh, you are here at last!” She turned and gave
me a fierce embrace. “How little I care for these things. Still, it’s all very
exciting. Which woman do you think will fit the slipper? Anyone we know?” Ladice
was an eternal court gossiper, despite her bucolic upbringing. Her dark eyes
darted around the gathering.

“I cannot say, my Star.” I replied, masking a
smile. And I couldn’t-- unless the ceremony proclaimed me thus-- if it worked
to secure the support of the people at all. Nervous flutters twisted my stomach
to knots.

“Whoever she is, she cannot be sweeter to me than
you have been.” Ladice replied, squeezing my hand. “I wish it were you,” she
said fervently. “You and your Mara, both. I do not care that Nesu Ahmose should
bring another to the palace, as long as you say that you will continue to visit
me, even after the Pharaoh has made his choice?”

It was kind that she should offer me welcome, if
Pharaoh cast me aside for his new queen. From the awkward Cyrene princess, it
was a mark of her regard—a royal gesture, indeed.

I bowed. “If it be the will of Nesu, I shall.”

Ladice released me and took her place among the
other wives of Amasis, to the rear of the dais. I wandered through the painted
and bejeweled throng for an hour, searching for Mara who would be lost and
uncomfortable in the sea of people. Neferenatu glared at me from his position
on the dais. I turned my back to him and smiled politely at the revelers behind
me. When the foremost Grecian mercenaries appeared, I knew that Amasis’
announcement would not be far behind.

The sistrums jingled and my stomach clenched. At
last the moment was at hand. Amasis signaled and the Chief Steward brought
forth a huge amphora filled with lotus wine for the assembly. Amasis stood and
spoke a blessing to the gods. He smiled at me over the rim. Then the ceremony
was over and he sat upon his gilded throne, the symbolic crook and flail in
hand.

“My people,” he began. “Many long days have I
prayed to find a worthy wife, one who shall rule over the hearts of the people.
Let the gods speak to us now!” And he signaled for his bearers to bring forth
petitioners to try the slipper. A royal bearer held the slipper on a fine
cushion.

As the royal women were brought forth, each to
have her turn, my mind turned to that day long ago in Hori’s workshop, when his
hands had traced the lines of my foot.
These will fit her and no other
,
he’d promised Charaxus.

Well, I thought. It was truly so. For among the
wives and princesses, the many royal women who were called and tried and
failed, none could fit the slipper. Amasis scanned the assembly, and motioned
again and again, until even the most minor nomarch’s daughter had tried and
been found lacking.

“Horus, Truth Giver, has sent me this sign.”
Amasis cried. “Is there none who will come forth to fit the slipper?” And bless
him, his eyes cut a sideways glance at me.

Now
. Now, was the time. I could
embrace the opportunity the gods had given me, or I could hide in the shadows,
afraid to make my own destiny.

But just before I moved forward to try the
slipper, Neferenatu, the Grand Vizier, stepped forward. “No! Not her! I denounce
this as a trick and a lie!” And he stuck out his staff and tripped the royal
bearer before I even drew near enough to be recognized.

The slipper dropped to the pavestones with a
jangle of bells and clatter of wood.

“You seek to bring embarrassment to the royal
women of Egypt!” Neferenatu hefted his foot and before anyone could stop him,
smashed it down hard on the slipper, crumpling it like papyrus reeds beneath
his feet. Someone in the crowd screamed.

“Stop him!” Amasis shouted. Guards rushed in and
took hold of the grand Vizier.

I felt doused in ice.

Amasis knelt, and retrieved the golden slipper,
but it was clear that the treasure would never adorn any foot again. He spared
me one tortured look. The polished acacia wood was cracked and splintered, the
finely wrought gold dented and crushed beneath the vizier’s rage.

It was destroyed beyond repair, as much as any
hope I might have had of becoming Amasis’ queen.

I knew now the wicked vizier plotted to usurp
Amasis. My ears felt stuffed with wool, as Amasis shouted for justice. The
royal guards took hold of Neferenatu’s arms and dragged him from the courtyard.
The priests took up a hymn, chanting for the mercy of Horus against such
blasphemy. I sank against the column, feeling my eyes well with tears.

There would be no proof now. No way to show my
worthiness to convince the royal houses to support Amasis’ choice. He must give
me up, for the sake of all Egypt. To prevail against the Persian threat, it
must be so.

I had to leave, and now, before he made an enemy
of the royal houses. For his sake and the sake of all Egypt, I would for once do
what I should.