Wujat.
I have not thought about the vizier, Pharaoh’s constant companion and adviser, as I did not want to analyze too closely his role in my father’s death. Does he know all that the queen has done? And what is the nature of his relationship with her? Does he love her, as we guessed that night she confronted us at the mastaba? A night that seems so long ago, when it’s been just under a full moon’s worth of days. Time is strange in the desert.
Putting my thoughts aside, I reach the clearing and spot my friends. Paser and Reb acknowledge my presence by moving over to make room for me at the fire, yet Paser’s shoulders remain stiff. Merat was not at dinner. It was announced that she and the children would be giving a performance that night in honour of the chieftain and his second-in-command, that he may be restored to good health.
The children re-enact the story of the great hunt, the one told by Namu the other night. Judging by their ferocious roars, it was Yanassi and Akin who caught the lion. Next, they sing a tune Merat taught them, which I recognize. The audience doesn’t seem to mind that they perform a Theban song; they clap and cheer for the children, their voices rise along with the flames into the night sky. It is unexplainable, but each song sung or tale performed stitches the audience closer together, sewing my friends and I along with everyone else into the skin of the community, helping to bind wounds that come from leaving home and loved ones behind. I even see the tension in Paser’s shoulders melt away, such is the magic of music and stories.
When the little ones are done, they bow, with everyone heaping their generous praises. Laughing, the children pull Merat into the firelight, her cheeks flushed. One of the older ones begs her to dance and she demurs, still laughing. But another picks up the chant and they cry for her to dance. Soon everyone in the crowd calls her name — “Merat, Merat!” — and she puts up her hands in surrender.
Nodding at the drummers, who provide a steady beat, she assumes the beginning pose. A hush settles over the people as she begins to dance. Her hands move through the air, graceful as birds. Her hips sway, her feet step, and her hair swings, all in different directions yet all at the same time, in perfect rhythm with the beat. Her body weaves another type of magic upon the crowd as we watch, unable to tear our eyes away. The drums reach a frenzied pitch and I feel them in my own blood and head. My heart bursts with pride and a curious envy; Merat’s beauty radiates from her very soul for all to witness as she moves.
The drums stop and she is still, except for her breath, which comes fast, firelight flashing in her eyes. There is an instant of silence, and then everyone erupts in cheers for their queen, for an Egyptian princess who has enchanted them, as she enchants me.
Her eyes find mine, and then her gaze moves past me, to Paser, and my heart cracks a little, as her eyes are all for him, yet his are for me. And then the chieftain steps forward and beckons Merat to him and she obliges, and I am reminded that there is a chance none of us will get what we want and that it is better not to want things at all, as their lack only brings heartache.
38
MERAT’S DANCE BRINGS THE NIGHT to a close, as there is nothing that can follow, and the crowds begin to leave the fire. People walk by her, complimenting the performance and her work with the children. As Paser and Reb stand, I notice one of the young women shooting subtle glances in Reb’s direction. He feels her gaze on him as well; his shoulders go back and his head tilts to the side as he teases Paser about his black eye, which does not look so bad in the cover of night.
Merat finds us, breathless and buzzing like one of the bees I will see tomorrow during my training with Pepi. The chieftain shares a drink with his men, and I see his eyes follow her to us. Will he really be able to wait until we get to Avaris to claim her as his bride? I do not know if Merat was only being contrary the other night because she was angry, or if she truly means to accept her fate. Either way, I plan on talking her out of that notion.
“Well done, My Queen,” I say to her with a slight bow of my head. “You are a most talented dancer.”
“The High Priestesses who trained me would be glad to hear you say so,” she says, colour still high in her cheeks, before turning boldly to Paser. “And you, friend? What did you think of the performance?”
“Most admirable, Your Highness.” Paser smiles. “You have done wonders with the children.”
Merat’s own smile fades slightly, but Paser is smart not to heap too many praises on Merat’s dancing. I still feel the chieftain’s attention on us. On Merat. And on Paser.
“Shall we retire?” I suggest to Merat, wanting to get away from the chieftain’s sharp gaze, as well as to share all that has happened.
“Let us walk you to your hut,” Paser offers, and I know he, too, wishes to discuss recent developments.
The four of us start up the path.
“Paser tells me the Hyksos weapons are formidable,” I begin, hesitantly.
“And so you are justified in wanting to become a spy and save the kingdom?” Merat inquires archly. I flush, but Paser and Reb laugh. Although it’s directed at me, I do not mind too much, as it dissipates the tension in the air around us.
“Sesha was also involved in some inspired negotiations this day,” Paser says. Reb and Merat look at me in surprise. “Tell them of your plans.”
Relieved that Paser sounds more resigned than angry, I glance around and lower my voice. “Despite the wonderful performance tonight, no amount of beseeching the gods will have Akin walking again. The only thing that might help him is information contained in the scroll.”
“Not that sandblasted papyrus again?” Reb says in disbelief. “Let it go, Sesha. That thing is cursed.”
“Cursed? It saved my brother’s life!”
“And ruined ours.” Reb gestures at Paser and himself.
“The queen did that.” I keep my voice even as I stop walking and turn to face my friends. “If I return with the scroll and it helps Akin, the chieftain has promised to take us all to Avaris.” My words linger in the night air, shimmering with possibilities.
Reb and Merat both look stunned. “How ever did you manage that one, Sesha?” the princess asks.
“She told him that you both wished to be wed in the capital,” Paser cuts in. “Not a bad plan, all in all.” He gives me an acknowledging smile, which I return in gratitude.
I turn to Merat and Reb, hoping they, too, will understand. “I explained that my brothers and I have family in the capital and that the princess would like to be introduced to the royal powers and their subjects, in a ceremony befitting a queen.”
Merat stares at me blankly. “You what?”
“It was the only thing I could think of,” I say, anxiously examining her face, which — thankfully — does not seem angry.
Reb snorts, whether in disdain or admiration, I’m not sure. It is always hard to tell with him. “You appealed to his pride.”
“At the least, it buys us some time,” I say, bracing for a comment about how it takes one proud creature to recognize another. It doesn’t come.
“But if the Hyksos do intend battle, will we be any safer in their city?” he says instead.
We continue walking and I let out the breath I’m holding. All three of them seem to be in agreement with this plan.
“We can find Paser’s family and persuade them to help us vanish into the city, or escape on a ship and sail to a distant shore.”
“The latter is probably a smarter option,” Paser says, his voice quiet. “I can see the chieftain turning the city upside down for his bride.”
“And leave our lands and the people we know, forever?” Merat looks uncertain. “I am thinking it is not so easy to run from our destiny.”
Merat and Paser seem as conflicted as I feel. The oasis casts its spell on us all. Caught in the middle, they seem no more able to abandon either side than I am.
“Will you go and face the queen alone?” Reb asks finally. He looks worried for me, and I am touched at his concern.
“With any luck, I will not face her at all.” I will do my best to stay out of Queen Anat’s sights.
“She will not be alone,” Paser adds as we reach our hut. “She will have Pepi.”
Merat stands in the doorway. “And we will stay here, while Sesha goes to get the scroll with the spy?”
“We will not be gone long,” I say. “Once I am back, Min and I will do our best to help Akin. If all goes well, then the four of us will soon be on our way to the Hyksos capital.”
Paser shakes his head. “I still do not fully trust the spy. There is something he is not telling us.”
I think of Pepi warning me not to tell my friends too much, saying it could endanger them, that discretion keeps us safer. “Maybe he has good reason,” I say, feeling slightly guilty at having revealed our mission. I have a better appreciation for the fine line in the sand the spy must walk. On one side lies loyalty and honesty, on the other, keeping those you care for safe.
“Thank you for escorting us,” Merat says to the boys. Her eyes linger on Paser.
“It is our honour, Princess,” he says, and they walk off into the night to their own quarters.
I watch them walk away, then follow Her Highness into the hut. Merat combs out her hair in the near dark. She is unusually quiet.
“May we talk?” I say, wanting to make sure things are well between us.
“Always,” is her reply, but there is something in her tone.
“I thought you would be happier about the delayed weddings.”
She bites her lower lip. “I appreciate all you do for me, Sesha, truly.”
“Then why do you seem upset?”
“Maybe I am a little.” She sighs. “But not for the reasons you think. Your plan to get the scroll is a bold one. Better than anything the rest of us have come up with to leave the oasis.”
“Even if Paser still does not trust Pepi?” It is the wrong thing to say.
She whirls around. “Paser is jealous of Pepi!” she bursts out. “Can you not see that? For someone so smart about some things, you can be vastly ignorant about others.” Her words sting, and tears come to my eyes.
“I have done nothing to encourage —”
Merat cuts me off. “You do not need to. You only have to walk by for him to look at you, to speak for him to listen.” Her hands fly up in exasperation. “He crossed a desert for you.”
“That is true,” I say, heading for the exit, needing to escape her hot resentment, the accusation on her face. Pushing back the skin covering the entrance to the hut, I look over my shoulder. “But we crossed it for you as well.”
39
MERAT’S IRE SEARS MY HEART.
Paser’s feelings are not my fault! I stalk along the path, no real destination in mind.
And yet, I would be lying if I said I felt nothing at all in return.
The moon provides only a little illumination, but my eyes have no problem adjusting. Everyone is settled in for the night. A baby cries, my namesake. Amara and her husband likely know the full extent of Akin’s condition by now. They must. Passing the chieftain’s hut, I notice the light of a torch flickering inside. I make out the chieftain’s low guttural tones and Pepi’s more subdued ones. A sharp increase in volume has me pausing outside the hut, one word in particular catching my attention.
“And the scroll she speaks of? Do you really think it is the one you were seeking?” the chieftain asks urgently. “The one from the prophecy?”
Whoosh.
All the breath is knocked out of me. Like I’ve fallen off the horse again, flat onto my back.
“It may be …” I move closer, straining to hear Pepi’s words. A branch cracks underfoot and I freeze.
“Good.” The chieftain’s voice is grim. “If what the oracle says is true, we will need it for battle, as well as for Akin.”
“You are still planning on war, then?” Pepi’s voice sounds resigned.
“Those at Thebes leave me little choice. It is we who bring riches to these lands, garnering and encouraging trade from across the seas.” The chieftain’s voice rises. “We bring skilled craftsmen, innovative ideas, and new weapons to the delta. The region flourishes because of us! Our grandfathers’ fathers settled there, married, had children of their own. Is it not our home as well?”
“You are not wrong, cousin.” Pepi says in a pacifying tone. “But our dynasty has managed to coexist with Thebes for many years — if not always smoothly, at least without significant bloodshed.”
“For how long?” the chieftain growls. “They give us their daughters as tokens to bide their time, but they do not want us here in Egypt. They think we are unworthy. That we are a lesser people, I am a lesser man, for no other reason than we are not them. The Thebans are scared. We threaten their sovereignty as no people have before. They will rise up against us if we do not rise first. I’ve spoken with the Kushites, and they are with us. As are the people along the Nile, as far as Cusae.”
Pepi tries another tactic. “We are not ready. The soldiers are still training. We have not finished working with the horses. There is also Akin’s injury. Besides, we have had no word from Avaris about whether they will support our cause.”
“Then we will confer with them when we return for our weddings.” Yanassi’s voice is mocking. “Besides, those at Avaris grow fat and complacent. It is time to act now, while the Thebans are weakened by famine and drought.” His voice drops and I strain to hear. “You know what the oracle foretold. I require that scroll.”
“Sesha!” I jump. It is Merat. “What are you doing?”
“Ah, I came to speak with Pepi,” I whisper, nodding at the hut. “What are you doing?”
“I wanted to apologize for losing my temper. It is not right to take my frustrations out on you, especially after all you have done for me —”
Just then Pepi pokes his head out. “Sesha, Merat.” He greets both of us, though his eyes stay solely on me, as if to inquire how long I’ve been standing there. I keep my face impassive. “I thought I heard the harmonies of your voices. What are you doing out of bed?”
I think fast. “We could not sleep after the excitement of the performance. I thought I might check on Akin, and Merat offered to accompany me.”
Pepi does not look like he believes me, but he lets it go. “Min just checked on Akin,” he says. “Perhaps you should let the man rest for now.”
“If you think that is best.” I turn to follow Merat up the path.
“Sesha,” Pepi calls to me.
I freeze, then turn back. “Yes?”
“Meet me at the bees first thing tomorrow instead of after your regular duties. We will spend the morning there.” He cocks his head. “I believe we have much to discuss.”
“Very well.”
Yes, I believe we do.
Still reeling from what I have just heard, I walk with Merat back to our hut. I am quiet, and the princess does most of the talking.
“It is not that I do not appreciate you coming after me, or all that you have done since you arrived,” she continues as we enter our small dwelling. “I do. It is just that I cannot seem to make my feelings for Paser go away, no matter how hard I try.” I do not think she tries all that hard, but I keep my tongue in place as she gets into bed. “And though I know how he feels about you, there is a small part of me that refuses to give up hope.”
I am not sure what to say. Or rather, I am tired of chirping on like a bird perched outside the window when one is trying to sleep. So I say nothing except a few sympathetic exclamations here and there to punctuate her speech; now that she has started, she cannot seem to stop.
Ready for slumber and suddenly exhausted by the events of the last few days, I crawl into my sleeping place, shivering, and pull up a skin for warmth.
“Sesha?” Merat speaks into the dark, after a few moments of silence. “Are you all right?”
No. No, I am not. I am getting caught up in a dangerous game, one partly of my own making. But I do not want to trouble my
friend, who seems to be feeling better now that she has vented her frustrations, like smoke escaping from the ashes.
“I am fine,” I say. “Only tired.”
“Why did you say I was accompanying you to see Akin?”
“I did not want you to get in trouble for wandering around after dark without an escort.” I briefly wonder if deception comes too easily to me.
“What were you wanting to ask Pepi?” she asks.
What do I not want to ask Pepi? “Hmm?” I say blearily, unable to keep my eyes open. My mind and body are shutting down, unable to cope with anything more this day.
“When I found you outside the hut, you said you wanted to speak to Pepi about something.”
“Ah, I wanted to see when we will be on our way to get the scroll.” A scroll that he’s apparently been searching for since before we even met.
How is that even possible?
Is Paser right not to trust him?
What did the chieftain say? “The one from the prophecy.” What prophecy? I shake my head, trying and failing to clear the hazy fatigue. Unfathomably, the scroll is somehow still at the centre of it all. I will get some answers from Pepi tomorrow.
And with that thought, I fall asleep.
40
SOMEHOW, EVERYTHING IS ALWAYS better in the morning. Even if only a fraction. Maybe it’s because you are rested, better equipped to face your troubles and problems. Maybe it is as simple as seeing Ra come up in the sky to light another day. Another day where you get to walk around and try to sort out those troubles or problems, a fresh opportunity to live your life in this too-short time we are allotted in the land of the living.
A chance to ask certain spies about certain prophecies concerning certain scrolls.
I leave Merat sleeping and go to meet Pepi at the bees, taking only a piece of fruit for my quick morning meal. The fig is delicious, and I savour its sweet flavour as I make my way to where the hives are kept. The oasis is awakening, beginning to buzz like the creatures I am on my way to see. They are located just around the far tip of the sparkling lake, where the trees grow thicker, close to the training grounds. At last, I reach the apiary and look around for Pepi. There is a simple hut and, farther back, several dried cylinders of mud lie stacked on top of each other. The scent of beeswax permeates the air along with a loud humming.
The Desert Prince Page 16
