Authors: Esther Friesner
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Historical, #Ancient Civilizations, #Girls & Women
We left Akhmin early the next morning. The first pale light of dawn made the river sparkle and revealed the glorious royal ship that my aunt had sent to bring us to Abydos. Bit-Bit and I were overwhelmed by the sight of such a splendid ship with its towering central mast, upcurved prow and stern, and the massive oar used to steer it and propel it when the wind or the current failed. I owed a debt to the magnificence of that ship. It dazzled me so thoroughly that it diverted my mind from thinking about the river itself and how closely the sacred waters had come to claiming me. Its sheer size and obvious strength lent me a measure of confidence, though from time to time I felt a small chill run over my skin when I gazed too long at the river.
Because we were heading upstream from Akhmin, the winds would carry us. We watched in fascination as the sailors unfurled the great sail with its painted image of Nekhebet, the vulture goddess whose mighty wings gave
special protection to mothers, children, and Pharaoh himself.
Father and Mery retired to the richly decorated cabin in the center of the boat. Bit-Bit ran back and forth happily, investigating everything and crying out in delight when we pushed off from the shore and our journey truly began. She only settled down when Father stuck his head out of the cabin to command that someone tie a rope around my little sister’s waist, in case her excitement made her careless and she wound up overboard.
With a strong wind filling our sail, the voyage to Abydos wasn’t long. I was grateful. Even though I came to enjoy sailing, Berett was plainly terrified. As soon as I sat down facing the prow of the ship, she clung to me like a thornbush and wouldn’t let me move. I should have thanked her: Her fear of the river forced me to banish the last traces of my own. Somehow I found it easier to be brave for someone who needed me than to be brave for myself alone. Father stuck his head out of the cabin a second time, saw how things were, and told Bit-Bit to bring Berett and me anything we needed. My sister was ecstatic to have an excuse for scampering around the ship again. She must have asked me at least fifty times if I needed a drink or something to eat.
“I’m fine,” I said. “But why don’t you ask Berett if she’s hungry?”
“Why bother? She can’t talk.”
“She
won’t talk.
There’s a difference.”
Bit-Bit shrugged. “Can’t, won’t, if I don’t get an answer out of her, it’s all the same.”
“Until it changes,” I maintained. I turned to the child. “You’ll speak again someday. You
will.
Thoth will use his wisdom to heal you, Isis will comfort you, and the god of physicians, Imhotep, will send me a dream telling me how we’re going to find your voice again. Until then, you’re safe. Do you understand?” Berett stared, then began to suck her fingers. I heard Bit-Bit sigh deeply.
“I’ll go get her some fruit. If she’s hungry, she’ll eat it; if she’s not,
I
will.”
By the time our ship reached Abydos, Berett had gobbled down three handfuls of dates, two of figs, a whole bunch of grapes, and was looking a little green. Her skin was much paler than mine, so the ill effects of her over eating were obvious. I held her by the shoulders and Bit-Bit kept her curly red-brown hair out of her face while she was sick over the side of the boat. Then I picked her up and carried her ashore. She hid her face against my neck, her thin arms and legs wrapped around me like a monkey.
“Nefertiti, you’re going to have to learn that you can’t give a child everything she wants,” Father said as he watched me stagger along with Berett.
“She won’t do it again,” I said, resolute. “She’s smart; she’s learned her lesson. Haven’t you, Berett?”
Father shook his head sadly over the child’s silence. “How could the priest have done such a thing? I’ve known him for years; I used to admire him. He came from one of the poorest families in Akhmin and used his mind to work his way up to the high priesthood, but his past still rides him. Wealth means everything to him. Even if he had all of Pharaoh’s treasures, he’d see it as nothing more than a
strand of spiderweb holding him just above a bottomless valley of poverty.”
The messenger who’d brought my aunt’s command was already off the boat and out of sight by the time I set foot on land. We watched him race away; Father chuckled.
“Off to tell Tiye we’re here, and probably praying with every breath that she’s in a good mood. Poor man, what a way to earn his bread!”
I was only half listening. Between carrying Berett and taking in the wonders of Abydos, I was distracted. I had heard many tales about this city of temples, shrines, and graves. It was a place of immense age and holiness, where it was said that the bodies of our first pharaohs and their queens were buried. Even more awesome was the lore that named Abydos as the burial place of the god Osiris himself! We walked on sacred ground.
The messenger was back swiftly, accompanied by two teams of eight servants carrying heavy chairs on poles. The chairs themselves were made of gleaming black ebony wood, carved and enhanced with red and blue paint as well as flashes of gold on the arms, legs, and carrying poles. The seats were wide enough for two people to ride comfortably. Bit-Bit squeaked and clapped her hands in delighted anticipation of our glorious ride.
She thought better of it once we were on the road. The men carrying our chair couldn’t seem to stay in step with one another. We jounced and lurched horribly. Berett still held tight to my neck, hiding her eyes, refusing to look at the marvels of Abydos. The tawny stones, the towering
obelisks, the countless statues of gods and kings all slipped past her, unseen.
Our bouncy journey came to an end when our bearers passed under a massive gateway that opened into a broad courtyard. The walls were brilliant with the etched and painted images of gods and kings, but my eyes were drawn to the carvings I could read. Prayers and praises to Amun were everywhere, along with tributes to the kings who had enriched the god’s temple.
Is this Amun’s house?
I wondered, deeply troubled.
Why were we carried inside?
No one had the authority to enter a temple in such regal style. It was an insult to the god.
Even if it’s not our fault, we’ll still be punished. Oh, Berett, and after I swore I’d keep you safe—!
I hugged the child close. The instant that our chair touched the ground, I leaped off and away. Bit-Bit looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. My sister liked being treated royally and didn’t seem aware of our surroundings. She stepped down from the chair with unusual dignity and plenty of reluctance.
I hurried over to my parents. “Father, are we in trouble?” I whispered.
“Why should we be?” My question puzzled him.
“Isn’t this Amun’s temple?” I glanced around at the words on the walls.
“You read too much, Nefertiti, when you shouldn’t be reading at all.” Father was suddenly serious. “Remember, I don’t want my sister finding out about your … interest. There’s no reason to fear: We aren’t in the god’s house. I remember this place from my younger days, serving in Pharaoh Amenhotep’s court. It’s where the king and his
people stay while paying homage to the gods of Abydos. So many people make the pilgrimage here—nobles and commoners—that several temples maintain lodgings for them.”
As he spoke, slaves came trailing in from the street, carrying our boxes on their backs. They grumbled to find us lingering in the courtyard, since they couldn’t set down their burdens until someone let them know where we’d be staying. Just then, a tall man emerged from a doorway framed by the arched body of the sky-goddess, Nut. He carried an impressive staff that he struck against the ground and hailed Father by name and with a flood of flattering phrases. Unfortunately, his fine words were delivered in a singsong, nasal voice that grated on the ears. It was a relief when he reached the end of his recitation and said: “Your humble and unworthy lodgings are this way, if you will consent to follow me.”
We followed. I can hardly begin to say how long we followed him, how far we walked, how many rooms we passed through, big and small, or how any human being could find his way through such a vast building without getting lost. In the end, we reached a garden that could have enclosed four of our green refuges at home. Our guide gestured with his staff, assigning us our chambers.
“My lord Ay, let it please you and your wife to accept
this
room. My lady Nefertiti, you will honor our house by entering
that
room, beyond the lotus pool, and your sister Mutnodjmet will take
this
room.” He indicated the doorway next to the room he’d given to our parents.
I gazed across the serene surface of the lotus pool,
fragrant with vibrant blue flowers. Why was I being lodged apart from my family? I glanced left and right, seeing several other doorways, including one right next to Bit-Bit’s room. Were they already occupied?
Oh well, it’s not worth making a fuss about this
, I thought, and started toward my room.
The tall servant moved so fast that he seemed to appear in my path by magic. “If my revered lady Nefertiti will allow me, I will take charge of this”—he nodded at Berett—“for you.”
“Berett stays with me,” I said firmly.
“Ah?” One brow rose and vanished under the fringe of his wig. “I beg my lady Nefertiti to forgive me. I was told by the royal messenger who announced your arrival that you were traveling with a slave, not a … um …” His cool self-possession deserted him for a moment as he asked, “What
is
this child to you, great one?”
“She’s—she’s—” I paused. What
was
Berett to me? She was given to me as a slave and I’d done nothing to change that. My heart yearned to free her, but I didn’t know how to do it. By our laws, slaves were property, the same as a cow or a house or a bracelet. I’d overheard enough of Father’s conversations to know that if I wanted to give Berett a new life of freedom, it would have to be done exactly according to the law or she would still be a slave.
A slave—but I don’t want to call her that
, I thought. “This child is—”
“Isn’t it obvious?” A familiar voice boomed across the garden. “This child is the lady Nefertiti’s friend and companion.” I turned with a joyful heart to see Henenu come rushing forward with his unique, rolling gait, his arms held wide in welcome.
I wanted to hug him, but that was impossible. As soon as he reached us, Berett raised her head, took one look at the scribe, and squeaked like a newborn kitten in distress. Her grip on me tightened so sharply that it squeezed the breath from my body and made me stagger. Henenu couldn’t help laughing.
“I’ve heard of close friendships, but this is astonishing. She’s stickier than a split date, this one. Where did she come from? She looks foreign.”
“She’s a Habiru,” I replied. “Her name is—we call her Berett. She’s a musician.”
“A good name for her, in that case.” Henenu might have said more, but a sharp, insistent tapping drew his attention. The tall servant was drumming his staff on the ground impatiently and looked ready to bite someone.
“Yes?”
the scribe said, matching him glare for glare. “Did you want something?”
“I would never presume that my time was more valuable than yours, Master Henenu,” the servant replied coldly. “However, Queen Tiye has given me word to bring her family into her royal presence as soon as they have been settled in their rooms. That cannot happen if the lady Nefertiti hasn’t even crossed the threshold of her chamber.”
“Don’t let me stop you,” Henenu said, his fat cheeks shining with deliberate cheer. It made the servant even crosser. “In fact, let me help. Nefertiti—I mean
Lady
Nefertiti, will you come this way?” Even though I was still holding Berett, he managed to take me by the elbow and steer us around the tall servant, who stood gaping at the scribe’s audacity.
When I entered my room, it was my turn to stare open-mouthed at the luxury awaiting me. I’d never seen so much furniture, not even in the house of the high priest of Isis. The bed, the tables, the chests, the lamps, the chairs—all were beautifully made, lavishly decorated. The air itself was sweet with perfume. The slave who was carrying my belongings set down the box and left. It looked forlorn and small in the midst of so many luxurious things. A second slave brought Berett’s harp and left it leaning against one of the chairs. I felt the child shift in my arms, her gaze going to her beloved instrument. I took advantage of this, setting her down and giving her a light push in the direction of the harp. She flew across the room, fell to her knees, and embraced it almost as tightly as she’d hugged me.
I sighed happily, letting my arms swing free. They felt drained and even a little numb from having toted Berett for so long. I was just starting to get full feeling back into them when a plump woman came in and began unpacking my things. I gave the tall servant an inquiring look.
“She is your chief maidservant, Lady Nefertiti,” he drawled. “She’s not attractive, but don’t worry about that; she’s only here to serve you temporarily.
Much
more acceptable women will wait upon you in the future.”
“This woman is
very
acceptable to me,” I snapped, bristling at his mean words. “And she’s a lot more attractive
than you’ll
ever be.”