Sphinx's Princess (8 page)

While Father and Mery laughed discreetly, I said, “He
doesn’t chase
common
criminals. When goods come into the city that are supposed to go to the royal storehouses but some of them … ‘wander’ into someone else’s hands, Father has to find out about it and tell Pharaoh.”

“Well said, Nefertiti.” Father nodded approval. “I’m happy to say that we’ve had very few instances of such crimes in Akhmin. But now”—he sighed—“now that may change. Pharaoh has authorized me to investigate the temples. Do the riches that pour through their doors go to honor the gods or to let the priests live in royal luxury?” His smile was sour. “I already know the answer.”

“Then why did you invite the high priest to dinner?” I asked. “If you
know
that he’s stealing—”

“I’m doing it so
he
will know what I do,” Father said. “Perhaps that will be enough to make him behave a bit more righteously. You’d be surprised how many offenders will mend their ways the instant that they realize someone’s watching.”

“What if he isn’t one of those?”

“In that case, it becomes a matter for Pharaoh to decide.” Father closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “For all the good it will do. The priests have too much power, and the people believe they are the only ones who can keep things right between gods and mortals.”

I thought about Father’s words while I prepared for the grand dinner. Mery was obsessed with guaranteeing that every detail of the feast would be perfect. She sent all the slaves and servants running on countless errands. Bit-Bit and I were also put to work. Mery wanted to have professional musicians and dancers entertain the guests, but
Father forbade it. He said the expense would be hypocritical when he was about to reprimand the high priest for his lavish ways.

“So you girls will sing and dance for us instead,” Mery concluded. “Now go practice.”

Bit-Bit and I were overjoyed. She loved to sing even more than I loved to dance, and she had a wonderful voice—sweet, high, and clear. We rehearsed our performance constantly. Hearing Bit-Bit sing was like watching a lotus open its petals to the sun, something that became more lovely with every passing moment. She beamed when I told her how beautifully she sang, but as the day of the feast drew near, she began to panic.

“What if I’m awful?” she cried, clutching my hand as we practiced the steps of our dance in our room. We could no longer work in the house or even in the garden. It was the day before the dinner and Mery was turning the whole house upside down with the final preparations.

“Honestly, Bit-Bit, don’t you
listen
when I tell you how good you are?” I demanded. “As soon as you sing one note, everyone will love you, and I’ll become invisible.”

“As if
that
would ever happen.” My little sister’s lower lip stuck out. “When people see you, it’s everyone else that vanishes. I wish I were half as beautiful as you are, Nefertiti. Then it wouldn’t matter if I sang well or if I croaked like a frog.”

I stared at Bit-Bit as though she’d been sunstruck and was spouting nonsense. “I’m not beautiful.”

“You
are
.” Bit-Bit was as sweet as her name, but sometimes she showed a flash of temper. She stamped her bare
foot and stubbornly repeated, “You
are
beautiful. Everyone says so—Mother, Father, the servants, the neighbors, all of my friends,
everyone!
” She took a calming breath and added: “Even me. I wish I looked like you. You’re so tall and graceful, and your eyes are such a pretty shape, like willow leaves, and your mouth always looks like you know a wonderful secret.”

“But you’re beautiful, too, Bit-Bit,” I protested. My sister’s praise made me feel self-conscious, as if everyone were looking at me all the time. I didn’t want to bask in so much attention, real or imaginary. I wanted to roll myself up in one of Henenu’s old papyrus scrolls and hide.

Bit-Bit smiled and shook her head. “Not like you.” She gave me a kiss on the cheek. “But I don’t mind. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Her smile turned mischievous. “Enough to come with me to Isis’s temple?”

“What? Why there?”

“I want to ask the goddess to bless my singing tomorrow so I don’t make a fool of myself in front of the guests.”

“Bit-Bit, if you want to pray to Isis, why don’t you just do it in the garden?” I asked.

“Oh, that’s only
our
Isis,” she said with a wave of her hand. “There are much better statues of the goddess in her temple, and it’s more impressive. The goddess is sure to pay attention if I ask for her blessing there. Please, Nefertiti?”

I couldn’t say no. As soon as Bit-Bit gathered some flowers for her offering to Isis, we went to the temple. It was a fine building, with towering walls of yellow limestone and many open spaces, inside and out, for worshippers to
gather. We hadn’t purified ourselves properly, so we had to remain in the shadow of the great entryway, but that was good enough for Bit-Bit. While she prayed, I glanced into the temple courtyard. Because it wasn’t a festival day, we were almost the only people there. Even the priests were absent, most likely preparing to perform a ritual later on. I took advantage of being alone to study the words carved on the walls, all praising the goodness of Isis. I missed He nenu’s lessons, but I was delighted to see how much I understood without his help.

Bit-Bit was much calmer after her prayers, and when the next day’s sun began to set, she was eager for Mery to summon us into the hall where the feast was waiting. We dined with wreaths of flowers in our hair and garlands around our necks. Bit-Bit and I were so excited by the many delicacies set out on the low tables near our chairs that we couldn’t stop giggling and whispering about all the treats in store for us. Mery wore her best jewelry, a gold collar shaped like a hawk with outstretched wings, every feather starred with turquoise, carnelian, and lapis lazuli. She looked well satisfied with the way her plans for the night’s festivities were being carried out.

We three were the only ones who seemed to be enjoying ourselves that night. Father was so solemn, he might as well have been made of stone. The high priest of Isis sat stiffly, his jaw taut, his kohl-rimmed eyes like chips of flint. He was attended by two lower-ranking priests, and all three of them were splendidly dressed, their pleated robes made from linen so finely woven that it was like a breath of mist. Gold flashed from their necks, ears, and fingers. Unlike
Father and Mery, they wore no wigs on their closely shaved heads. Like all priests, they took pains to remove every bit of hair from their bodies, to keep themselves pure enough to serve the gods.

The longer I looked at the grim-faced, hairless high priest of Isis, the more he reminded me of a cranky old bullfrog, puffing out his throat among the river reeds. I bit my lip to stop myself from giggling.

“Nefertiti, Mutnodjmet, it’s time,” Mery said. Because it was a formal dinner, she called Bit-Bit by her given name. I gave my sister’s hand a quick, reassuring squeeze before we left our chairs and stepped into the middle of the floor. We took our places, posing with our arms raised to one side, our heads turned the other way, and our feet pointing straight ahead. I clicked my tongue quietly three times, the signal to start. We raised our right feet and stamped out the beat on the floor. Bit-Bit began to sing, and the two of us swayed to the tune, clapping our hands and moving into the first steps of the dance. Mery clapped her hands in time for us as well, with Father and the lower-ranking priests joining in. Only the high priest remained unmoving in his chair.

So, you’re too grand to clap for us?
I thought.
Sitting there like that, do you think you’re the majestic image of Amun or Osiris? You’re about as impressive as a dried-out stick! Bit-Bit and I worked hard on this dance, and we did it for
you,
old frog. I hope that every bite you ever eat is half as sour as your face!

I took all of my fierce resentment for the priest’s cold arrogance and poured it into my dance. I twirled and leaped across the floor, my arms weaving flowing patterns in the air, my feet riding the pure notes of Bit-Bit’s song. I became
the dance, and the dance gave me the gift of flight, of strength, of joy. When the music ended, I was breathless but smiling. I grabbed Bit-Bit’s hand, we made a low bow, and I dragged her out of the hall.

Once through the doorway, I leaned against a wall and slowly slid down it, laughing. “We did it, Bit-Bit!”

My sister crept back to eavesdrop at the doorway. “Oh, Nefertiti, they loved us!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed. “Even the old priest is telling Father how good we were.”

“Stupid frog,” I muttered. But I smiled with satisfaction. It had been my idea for us to leave the hall after our dance. If we’d done badly, I didn’t want to listen to forced, insincere compliments, and if we’d pleased our audience, we’d find out soon enough.

“Do we have to stay out here much longer?” Bit-Bit asked. “The honey cakes are being served.” She sounded wistful.

“Then we’d better go back in before Father eats them all,” I joked, holding out my hands for her to help me up.

We stepped across the threshold of the hall and into a river of praise. Mery and Father had to hold back the full measure of their pride in front of the guests, but the high priest and his attendants were under no such restraint. Bit-Bit and I had to stand in the middle of the floor to receive their acclaim. The longer it went on, the more ill at ease I felt. I was proud of my dancing, but so much admiration soon had me squirming, longing to be able to slip back into my chair and be ordinary again. I think that I could have enjoyed the attention more if my dancing were the only thing our guests complimented. But for every flattering comment
about my dance, the priests poured out three times as many about how I
looked
.

Why does
that
matter?
I thought, lowering my eyes so that I wouldn’t have to look at them.
Wouldn’t my dance be as good if I
didn’t
have “gazelle eyes” or “skin like honey” or “the slender grace of a young palm tree”? I wish Father could say something to stop them. But they’re our guests
. My stomach tightened and I prayed that Isis would silence her babbling priests.

My sister, on the other hand, reveled in the attention. She forgot all about the honey cakes and greedily devoured every word that commended her singing. I thought she was going to burst with pride.

“Such a gift should be treasured,” the high priest said. “Most of our temple priestesses don’t sing half as well as this child. It would please me to send one of our more adept singers to give her lessons and to teach her how to play the harp, so that she can accompany her song.”

“You honor us too much,” Father replied coolly. “Forgive me if I can’t accept your offer until a time when our business is happily concluded.”

The priest’s eyes were as expressionless and unblinking as a lizard’s. “As you will. May the gods in their infinite power bring us to a speedy agreement. Until then, I hope that you will give your consent to a different offer?”

“Go on.” Father was on guard.

“At the Festival of the Inundation, we worship Hapy, who brings the rising of the river, but we do not forget our lady Isis, the god-mother, the giver of life. It would please the great goddess if your lovely daughter Nefertiti joined the ranks of the maidens who will dance for her beside the
sacred river. Such an opportunity will honor your daughter’s talent without giving anything to
you
.” One corner of his thin mouth twitched up. “Well, Ay? Will you permit your sweet daughter to serve the goddess?”

My father’s answering smile was as mocking as the high priest’s. “How can I refuse?”

Bit-Bit woke me up on the morning of the festival by jumping onto my stomach. “Get up! Get up! You’re going to be late!” she cried, trying to haul me out of bed by the shoulders.

“For pity’s sake, Bit-Bit, do you want to wake me up or kill me?” I got free of my sister’s grip before she could send the two of us tumbling onto the floor. “Is it even dawn yet? I swear, you’re more eager for today than I am.”

“How can you say that, Nefertiti?” Bit-Bit was shocked at the very thought. “You’re going to get to dance in front of the whole city, and Mother will be letting you borrow her best necklace and bracelets
and
her jeweled wig! You’ve even got a new dress to wear! And afterward, I’ll bet that every important family in Akhmin is going to want you to marry their sons.”

“What, all of them at once?” I liked teasing Bit-Bit a little.

“You know what I mean.” My sister folded her arms across her chest and glowered at me for making fun of something that was very important to her. In the past year, Bit-Bit had begun to take an interest in growing up quickly and having a home of her own. She’d also turned into quite the flirt, though her pretty attempts at getting noticed were
wasted on the boys of her own age. They were more interested in their own games, sports, and adventures. If they had the choice between stealing a kiss from Bit-Bit and throwing rocks at a hippopotamus, the hippo would win.

“Are you in such a hurry for me to get married and move out of this house?” I asked.

“You wouldn’t move far,” Bit-Bit argued. “You’d still live in Akhmin. I could see you whenever I wanted to. I could have
two
homes!” She threw her arms around my neck and gave me a kiss, delighted by her vision of the future.

We joined our parents for breakfast. Because it was a special day for me, Mery had the servants add thick slices of watermelon, pieces of apple with honey, and sweet jujube fruit to our usual bread and beer. Bit-Bit and I stuffed ourselves until Mery put a stop to it.

“Nefertiti, if you eat much more, you’ll be too sick to dance.”

“And then I’ll never get married,” I said, with a playful glance at my sister. She made a honey-smeared face at me.

“What kind of nonsense is that?” Father asked pleasantly.

“Oh, Bit-Bit thinks that as soon as I dance, you’ll be buried under a mountain of marriage offers for me,” I replied, giggling.