“Poison?” His eyes widened. Who would poison his beloved? But he knew. He and Ismene must both have tasters from now on.
“I suspect some mild poison meant to make her gravely ill. Since she is not dead, I doubt that was the intent.”
“And the baby? How is the baby?” Alistair's heart froze in his chest.
“I cannot be certain. Concentrate on the lady's health and the child's condition should remain stable.”
Alistair nodded. Never had he been so scared in his whole life. He'd rather face down several battalions of soldiers than face the prospect of losing Ismene or the baby.
“May I see her?” he asked.
“Of course, but don't linger. Remember, she needs her rest,” the doctor insisted.
Alistair didn't wait to see the doctor out, but rushed into Ismene's bedchambers. There she was, lying as if lifeless on the bed. If he didn't know any better, he would think it was the sleep of death. But as he watched, he could see the gentle rise and fall of her chest.
Alonah moved around the bed to speak with him. “She is well, General,” she whispered. “As you see, she is resting now. Please do not trouble yourself like this. I will come and get you if anything changes.”
“I can't leave just yet. May I find a chair and just sit by her bed? I won't disturb her.” There was no further compromise in his voice. He was staying.
Alonah hesitated, but nodded.
Alistair pulled a stool closer to the bed and took a seat to keep watch over Ismene. He was determined to maintain a vigil over his beloved for as long as it took. How he had let his emotions carry this so far, he did not know. He had to make it right, and this was a first step.
* * *
Alonah watched the master of the house, broken with grief, at her mistress's side. She wished he would leave her in peace. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad for him to stay for a few minutes. If it would make him feel better. It would be fine, Alonah reasoned. He would soon tire and make his way to his own bedchambers. Alonah took her leave of the room, closing the door behind her.
She busied herself with her evening routine: cleaning the area around the chambers, communicating with the staff as to her mistress's more immediate needs, and returning to her own small chambers for a moment of peace. When Alonah checked on Ismene later that night, Alistair still sat in vigil over her, much to Alonah's surprise.
The general had dozed off, though. He had laid his head down on the bed and put a hand on Ismene's. Alonah knew that Alistair would follow the doctor's orders to the letter and not do anything that might disturb Ismene. He must have leaned over and reached for her in his sleep.
Alonah shook his shoulder gently to rouse him.
He awoke with a start. Ready for attack.
“Shhh, shhh!” She put her hands up in defense. “You must retire to your bedchambers, General. You are not doing the lady any good wearing yourself out like this.”
“I am fine.” He rubbed his eyes. “I don't need rest as much as I need to be with her.”
“I was being kind, sir. The lady needs her undisturbed rest. With all due respect, I must insist upon the doctor's orders.”
Alistair knew she was speaking wisely. He gathered himself up and headed out of the inner chambers, turning for a brief moment. “You will come and get me if anything changes? If she stirs, if she calls out, if her fever breaks, anything?”
“Yes, sir, any change,” she promised.
Once the general was gone, Alonah went about with her checks on her mistress. She was burning up! There had been no improvement since the doctor's visit a few hours ago. How long would it be before she awoke so they could start the tea treatments?
Alonah patted down Ismene's face, arms, hands, and chest with a cloth wet with cold water to soothe her fevered skin. She reached up to move a stray hair out of her face and discovered that there was a tear in her eye. Wiping it away, she replaced her brief sadness with determination. This illness would not overcome her mistress if she could help it.
Picking up the water and cloth, Alonah moved out of the chamber to dump the water. That's when she found Alistair, still in the hall just outside of the room, pacing.
“General?” She was startled by his presence.
“I couldn't go any farther,” he said in an almost apologetic voice.
“Sir, I fear for your own health. You will make yourself sick with worry.” Alonah's voice was stern.
“I must be near her.” His eyes were pleading.
Alonah opened her mouth to continue, but they were interrupted.
“Alistair!” It was Ismene’s voice.
They looked at each other, eyes wide. The general rushed into Ismene's bedchamber, Alonah a step behind him. Ismene was tossing and turning in the bed, calling for him. He fell to his knees by her bed, taking her hand.
“I’m here, Ismene.” He brushed her hair from her forehead with his free hand.
She opened her eyes slightly to look at him. “Alistair,” she murmured. Pressing his arm with her hand. Then she stilled.
“I’m right here,” he assured her, his voice tender and soft.
Ismene closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
Alistair watched her, stroking her face, lost in thought.
Alonah could not bring herself to make him leave. Neither did she think she would meet with success if she tried. So, nodding to Alistair, an understanding passed between them. She turned and slipped out of the room.
Alonah continued to check on Ismene throughout the rest of the night, pressing cold cloths to her face, neck, and chest. Upon further visits, she would find Alistair tending to her in the same fashion. But she never caught him sleeping again. It was almost as if he feared Ismene would reach out for him again and he wouldn't be awake to hear her.
Just before dawn, her fever broke. Alonah and Alistair rejoiced together.
* * *
Not long after Alonah had left to gather foodstuffs for her and Alistair, he noticed some movement in Ismene's hand. Leaning forward, he clasped her hand. Her eyes fluttered open.
“Hey,” he said, rubbing her forehead with his free hand.
Ismene met his eyes, but she was clearly not as pleased to see him as he was to see her awake. She shifted her face away from him, hurt still evident in her eyes.
“Ismene...” He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, how it was all a big mistake, how he wished he could take it all back.
“Please go,” she said once she found her voice.
He could hear in her voice that she was fighting tears.
The sound of the door opening alerted him to Alonah's return. He heard the sound of a tray being laid on a table and footsteps approaching the bed.
“Milady, you’re awake!”
Alonah looked between her master and mistress, seeming to realize that she had interrupted something. An awkward silence fell in the room. It was Alonah that broke it.
“How are you feeling?” she asked Ismene, a little hesitantly.
“I am tired and confused,” was her lady's response.
“I will go gather some of your tea.” Alonah bowed her head and moved to take her leave.
“No, please stay. Alistair was just leaving,” she insisted.
Alonah glanced from Alistair to Ismene again.
“Ismene...” he started again.
Turning then to look at him, he could see the tears in her eyes, though she was trying to hide them behind a firm expression. “Please leave.”
Another silence. This one thick with emotion. Alistair wanted desperately to explain, to apologize, but she had shut him out. And her pain was evident.
It was Alonah who spoke into the silence again. “I’m certain that the lady would enjoy a bath and something to eat. I will attend to her and send word when she is again resting.”
Alistair nodded, dejected. He stood, his movements slow. There was great hesitation in him as he turned. But what could he do? What could he say? It was obvious she was not ready to hear any
thing from him. He moved toward the door and relieved her of his presence.
* * *
“None of it!” Nassor said. “None of it has come to anything! The general is still here and has no plans to leave Egypt.”
“I have a plan,” a dark voice said from the shadows.
Nassor's eyes widened. He had thought that he and Sefu were alone. His attention was drawn to the shadows where a man stepped forward. Nassor couldn't believe his eyes. This was the man who had been giving their orders? Their benefactor? He could scarcely believe it was real!
He looked to Sefu. “Is this some kind of trick?”
“No.” Sefu was expressionless.
“Then I am mistaken as to why we are doing what we are doing.”
“No, believe me,” Sefu said. “Our goals are the same, though our reasons may be different.”
“Let's not waste time with these things,” the man said. “I'd rather discuss the details of the next phase of our plan.”
Sefu nodded. “Nassor, we can talk about your concerns later. Right now, you must trust me and listen to his plan.”
Nassor was quite nervous with this whole setup, but he did trust Sefu. He fought down the wave of uneasiness and listened.
* * *
“Are you well, Lady Ismene?” The Jewish scribe paused in his reading.
Her gaze had drifted and she drew her attention back to the man in front of her. He was staring at her.
“Hmm? Oh, yes, I am well,” she said. “I have been deep in thought over many things that you have read to me.”
“Yes?” he prodded for her to continue.
“I wonder about this God who speaks to men. He spoke to Abraham, to Moses...He cares about people as individuals. Even for one such as Hagar, a maidservant who is carrying an unwanted child. Your holy text says that God heard her. There was even a special name for God there.”
“El Roi, the God Who Sees?”
“Yes. Do you think He sees me?”
“Of course.”
“Even though I'm not sure that I'm ready to believe in everything you have said?”
“Yes. He still sees you. He still hears you.”
Ismene thought on that for a time. “Because,” she started slowly, “there are times I feel that I am alone.” She had come to trust this man, but how much, she wasn't sure.
“You are never alone. And you can always call out to Jehovah and know that He will hear you. He will help you. I know you will come to believe in time.”
There was that confidence again that this man always seemed to have in his God. If it were true that his God had done all of these things that he claimed, she didn't doubt there should be every confidence in Him.
But did she believe these things were true? They didn't seem like stories to her. What people would write for themselves such stories about their own misdeeds and mistrust? No, this was a story of a god who kept reaching out to people who made mistakes, who were imperfect, but who were loved by their Creator. Could she truly have that?
* * *
Alonah arrived at the scribe's house quite breathless. She didn't know how long she would have before Ismene would return home and find her missing, but this day was worth the risk. It was her wedding day. She bore two bags with her. One held Ismene's wedding clothes, which she would borrow, and the second held some of her possessions.
The Egyptian marriage ceremony for the most part consisted of a contract and for her possessions to be moved to Jabari's home. Jabari did not have a home for her to move into, and, as they were keeping their marriage a secret, that was a step they would not yet take. But it was important for them to perform this step. So she had brought some of her possessions for him to keep with him as a sign that she was now his wife.
Jabari greeted her with a huge embrace and a sweet kiss. She could tell that he was excited about today. She sensed no trepidation in him about the secrecy of what they were doing, that they would have to hide, and the risk of it all.
“Are you certain?” he asked.
She nodded, letting her forehead rest against his. “I've never been more sure.”
Hand in hand, they knocked on the scribe's door. An older man answered and recognized Jabari at once.
“Is this lovely woman the one who agreed to be your bride, Jabari?”
“Yes!”
Jabari had told Alonah that the scribe was an old friend to his family and had agreed to write up the contract and share in their secrecy.
“Excuse me,” Alonah spoke up. “Do you have some place I might change?” She indicated the bag she had brought with her.
“Of course.” The scribe ushered her to a back bedroom, closing the door behind her.
She changed into one of Ismene's simple linen dresses and pulled her bride bead over her head. The bead net was heavier than she expected, covering her head to toe with a netting of beautiful beadwork. Alonah was certain she didn't appear nearly as grand as Ismene had on her wedding day, but she wanted to look special for this occasion.
When she stepped out of the room, Jabari's eyes caught hers. His eyes were wide and his mouth parted. It must have been the bride bead. Perhaps it was all the more real to him that this was his wedding day to see the woman he loved dressed in bride bead.
“Alonah, you are stunning, I...” He moved to gather her into his embrace again.
“Now, now,” the scribe said. “There will be time for that! Let's get this contract signed.”
Alonah and Jabari looked over the paper while the scribe read it to them. It listed their names, the date, their parents, Jabari's profession, the scribe's wife as witness, and had a place for each of them to make their mark.
Jabari seemed all too eager to make his mark on the paper, grabbing the writing utensil and marking on the paper in one quick motion. Then he handed the pen to Alonah. She had never been party to a contract before. This was monumental for her. Lifting the pen with a sense of respect for the act she was performing, she made a mark on the paper similar to Jabari's.
The scribe rolled up the paper and took the pen from Alonah. “It is done. Congratulations!”
Jabari took Alonah in his arms then and kissed her deeply. She only wished that they were moving into his home and that they would be able to celebrate their union the way all husbands and wives around the world and across time had.
Then the scribe cleared his throat.
“Thank you,” Jabari said, still holding Alonah, not quite ready to let go of his new wife. “You said we must get this to the temple?” He reached out for the paper.
The scribe looked at his wife. “We have decided to take this to the temple and then to take a walk through the market. The back bedroom is made up.”
Alonah was shocked. This was an unexpected kindness.
“No,” Jabari said. “We couldn't.”
“We insist,” the scribe said. “I know it's not ideal, but it's your wedding day.”
There was no further argument from Jabari, just silence as he and Alonah watched the scribe and his wife gather a few things and take their leave of the house for the rest of the afternoon.
Alonah could not help the tears that came down her face as she thought of the kindness of the gesture being bestowed upon them. As the door closed behind the scribe and his wife, Jabari turned to his new bride, only then seeing her tears.
“Alonah, it's all right. We don't have to...”
He misunderstood.
“No, that's not it. I'm just so overwhelmed at their kindness. This is a big day for me, Jabari. Don't you see? I am a maidservant. People don't give up their homes for a maidservant. Servants don't sign contracts. No one marries a servant but another servant. And these people who care for you didn't look down on me. They accepted me because you accepted me. I don't know what the general and Ismene will do when they find out, but thank you.”
She kissed him and all thoughts of her world outside of this house vanished. For the next couple of hours, this man was her whole world.
<
br /> * * *
Thelopolis paced in the small space that was his rented room. It had not been as difficult as he had feared to navigate the marketplace or even rent a room knowing no Egyptian because, as it turned out, everyone spoke money. As he bit into an apple he had purchased earlier from the marketplace, he wondered, not for the first time, why he didn't just pack up his things and catch the next boat back to Greece.
For whatever reason, he still couldn't tear himself away from Ismene. While it was true that he had believed her when she told him she was happy with Alistair before, the events of the last weeks told him a different story. He had been following her to the library and on her trips to the market. She could not hide her downcast demeanor from him. No, he knew her too well. What had happened to her?
At the library, she seemed to be receiving lessons from a Jewish scribe about their history. He dare not linger closer to her than he already had, but the snippets he could catch from his distance told him as much. It puzzled him. What did Jewish history have to do with Egypt or Greece? Had she taken up a new hobby to keep her out of the house and away from her husband?
Unfortunately, he did not know much about what was going on inside the house. Oh, he had tried a couple of times to get close enough to see in or even sneak in, but security was pretty tight. Alistair had even posted military men to guard all the entrances to his estate. That was a bit extreme, Thelopolis thought. But it did prevent him from getting in. His heart longed to approach Ismene again as he had in the library. He needed to ask her what had her so dismayed. No one could read her or lift her spirits like he could.
Thelopolis rubbed his eyes. Perhaps tomorrow he would be able to see her. Tomorrow was market day for Ismene and Alonah. The library had been a safer place to approach because Alonah did not often go with her, but perhaps he could grab a few minutes at the market if they split up.
The General's Wife (Ancient Egypt) Page 19
