* * *
Ismene and Alonah made their weekly trip to the market with protection in tow—one of Alistair's trusted guards, Nkuku. Since the beginning of all of these incidents, Alistair had insisted that whenever Ismene traveled out of the home to the market, she had to take protection. Even though they weren't on speaking terms, she still honored his word on this. In truth, it did not make her feel squelched, it made her feel cared for. The things that had happened to them over the last couple of months worried her just as much, even more so now that there was a baby on the way. So she was grateful for that extra measure of protection.
“I meant to ask after your health.” Ismene stopped to look at some cloths one of the merchants had on display.
“My health?” Alonah was confused.
“Yes, when I returned from the library, Safiya told me you were unwell.”
Alonah remembered. She had asked Safiya to cover for her in the event Ismene got back before she did. Here she had been so lost in thoughts and daydreams of Jabari that she had all but forgotten. Yesterday, after their afternoon together, she came home to find that her mistress had retired early for the evening. And so she did, too, but found herself unable to sleep for quite some time, so captivated by thoughts of the events of that day.
“Thank you, milady. I am well, as you see.”
“Yes. I'm glad.” Ismene shifted her attention back to where they were going.
They had already purchased several fine linens for Ismene's expanding figure and some fruits that looked good to her. Her appetite of late had become voracious. They were now looking to pick out some jewelry pieces to go with her new linens.
Making their way toward their favorite jewelry stand, Alonah could not help but notice that Ismene’s gait had changed. It was becoming more akin to a waddle. Her hand covered her mouth lest she let a laugh escape. Ismene would not appreciate that.
Ismene greeted the store owner, a woman named Lapis, who ran the store with her husband. Lapis created all of the jewelry herself, and Ismene thought her pieces were the best on the strip. Alistair thought them to be the most expensive. Ismene always liked that there was a great variety in the store, and every bit of it was unique and beautiful. Alonah couldn't agree more. She only wished that she had the money to adorn herself thusly.
Moving in toward the more interior parts of the store, they were ooh-ing and aah-ing over the new creations they hadn't seen the previous week. All of a sudden, Nkuku tensed beside them, on alert. So caught up in their shopping was she that Alonah hadn't noticed Lapis ushering the other couple of clients out of the store and shutting the doors behind her. Now they were alone in the shop.
Nkuku grabbed Ismene and backed up toward the door. Alonah scooted along with them. He checked the latch. Locked.
Alonah's heart pounded. What were they going to do? She spun around, looking for any manner of escape. None appeared for her. Gripping Ismene's arm, she dug her nails into it, fear arresting her, but Ismene ignored the pain.
Moments later, men filed in from the back of the store. More came down the stairs. They bore sticks and knives. Their faces were etched with snarls and menacing glares. This was not going to end well.
Nkuku drew his sword and moved Ismene and Alonah behind himself. He pushed them along the wall and to a corner where he could best protect them. Alonah knew it was hopeless. There was no escape.
* * *
“General Merenre!” Alistair heard his name as it was called from the corridor outside of his war room.
“Excuse me.” He pardoned himself to step to the doorway.
One of his most trusted household servants, Fenuku, was running down the hall, tailed by Pharaoh’s servant, no doubt trying to precede the unannounced intrusion.
“Fenuku, what is it?” Alistair was concerned about Fenuku's breach in protocol.
Pharaoh’s servant interjected as Fenuku was catching a breath. “General, my sincerest apologies. He wouldn’t wait to be announced. He—“
Alistair held up his hand. “It’s all right.”
Pharaoh’s servant bowed, tossed Fenuku a frustrated glare, and took his leave.
“General Merenre, something terrible has happened. It is the Lady Ismene. Someone has taken her.”
“What?” Alistair was on edge, ready to leap into action.
“She was in the market with her handmaiden and Nkuku. They were attacked. Nkuku was sacrificed fighting off their attackers. The handmaiden Alonah was injured, and the Lady Ismene was taken.”
“Gentlemen,” was all Alistair said to his captains as he excused himself, exiting the room and rushing out into the corridor. Fenuku followed him, attempting to share what scant details he had. But Alistair was focused on getting back home to speak with the one person who could give him more answers—Alonah.
As they exited the palace, Alistair noted that Fenuku's horse was already saddled and present, so he mounted the waiting horse as he waved off Fenuku.
“Thank you. Please make certain my horse is returned to the stables of my estate.”
Not waiting for Fenuku's response, he dug his heels into the horse's flanks, urging him into action.
* * *
Nassor moved through the compound, desperately seeking some answers. At last, he found Sefu.
“That was not how this was supposed to be! This is not right!”
“Old friend, all is well. We are near the end. This is the time we need to stick together,” Sefu reasoned.
“I can't believe you are so calm! What makes you think they won't be led right back to your shop?”
“You worry too much. It's all been taken care of.”
Nassor thought for a moment. “I don't think I want to be a part of this anymore.”
“If that is your choice, I cannot stop you. But I warn you, once you leave, there is no coming back.”
Nassor took a long, tortured breath. In the span of those moments, he came to his decision. “I want out.”
Sefu nodded. “Good-bye then, old friend. I trust you will keep our confidence.”
“Of course.” Nassor spun on his heel and walked away. Sefu did feel sympathy for his friend. The man behind their movements had foreseen this. And he had a plan for Nassor.
Twelve
Dashed Hopes
A servant must have warned Neterka that Alistair had been spotted on the horizon. As he approached the door to the house, his faithful valet was awaiting for him, along with a servant boy prepared to take the horse to the stables.
Alistair did not have to ask to be escorted to Alonah. He was catching his breath as Neterka proceeded.
“This way, General.” Neterka stepped into the house, through the courtyard and into Ismene's chambers. The household servants had made a pallet on the floor for Alonah. It was thoughtful of Neterka to do so. They had not wanted to put her in her mistress's bed, but they wanted her to have more space than her small servant's quarters afforded.
Alistair leaned over her. “Has someone sent for the doctor?”
The maidservant Rabiah, who had been tending to Alonah, was confused by this. Alistair understood. It would be highly irregular to pay an expensive doctor's fee for a servant.
“No, General. Do you not wish I tend to her myself?”
“Don’t question the general,” Neterka interjected. “The doctor!”
Rabiah exited, thoroughly scolded, not even raising her eyes to meet Neterka’s.
Alistair’s attention returned to Alonah. She stirred, moaning as her return to consciousness brought with it a return to pain. Her face was already bruised, there was a deep cut on her forehead, and her lips were swollen and bleeding. In their cleaning, the servants had reopened fresh wounds there. What had these animals done to her? Had they done worse to his Ismene? Alonah's arm was in a makeshift sling and the rest of her was covered. The wheezing of her breathing indicated that there were cracked ribs.
Heavy eyelids opened with much effort to see the master of the house leaning over her.
Alonah seemed startled, and the sharp intake of breath was a mistake. Her eyes glazed over from the pain.
“General,” she whispered. “General, I am so sorry. I tried, I tried to...” Tears were flowing as she gazed off in the distance. Was she reliving the attack even then?
“Shh,” he soothed, pushing his urgency for answers to the side. “Be still, Alonah. No one is here to harm you now. The doctor will be here soon. Try not to move too much.”
She tilted her head in acknowledgment of his words. “Please, I want to tell you what I know.”
His eagerness drove him to push her, but he knew she needed to rest. He also knew that they had waited long enough to begin the manhunt, that for every minute that passed the trail became colder and harder to follow.
“Only as long as you can stand it,” he replied.
Her eyes refocused and she seemed to look through him as her mind returned to the past, recalling those memories. Once those relevant bits of information were retrieved, her gaze refocused on him.
“It was a trip to the market. We did not even suspect...Ismene just wanted to get out into the marketplace. Nkuku came with us.” She paused, swallowing a lump in her throat at what Alistair was certain were images of the soldier's sacrifice. Her eyes shifted toward the ceiling.
Alistair took her hand. “Alonah, what happened?”
“We were in our favorite jewelry store. The one on the corner. She—the owner—locked the door and the men...they came from everywhere and surrounded us. I was so afraid, but Ismene showed no fear. And Nkuku...he...” She began losing her grasp on her emotions.
“It’s all right. I know,” he reassured her. “What happened next?”
“After Nkuku fell, I don’t remember much—darkness and pain. And then I was here again.”
“These people—do you remember who they were?”
“No, General, they didn’t say much. They came for Ismene and that was all we knew.”
“Do you remember what they looked like?”
She closed her eyes. “They were Egyptians...and gypsies.” She was remembering more as she concentrated. Her eyes flew open. “Gypsies, General! There were gypsies!”
Fighting down his own disgust, he calmly led her on. “The Egyptian men, what do you remember about them?”
“They were not dressed as slaves, and I don't think they were merchants.”
“Nobility?”
She looked up at the ceiling again, thinking. “No...yes...maybe.”
He let her think.
Turning back to face him, there were tears in her eyes again. “General, I can’t remember anything else. I’m sorry.”
He gently squeezed her hand. “No, Alonah, you have been most helpful. Now rest. The doctor will be here to help you and I want you to rest. I am relieved you are safe.”
Releasing her hand, he stood up. Nodding to the servants who had brought in warm water and cloths to clean her wounds again, he began to move toward the door to the hallway.
He stopped one of the servants on his way out. “Bring her some vinegar water. The doctor will not be able to be as gentle with her.”
The servant nodded her understanding, and Alistair passed out of the chambers with Neterka not far behind.
“The doctor will be here soon, General. I will inform you when he arrives,” the servant woman called after him.
“That is not necessary,” he said, turning. “I will only need to speak with him when he is done.” He moved to continue on his way.
They walked in silence until they reached the safe confines of the general’s chambers. Neterka stood nearby and waited for his master’s instructions. Alistair planted himself by his window, gazing out across the sand dunes. He remained still and quiet, allowing his thoughts and emotions to absorb him for a few moments.
After some time passed, he faced his valet. “I don’t know what to do, Neterka.”
Neterka remained as he was.
“I mean…” His voice was softer. He began to pace, wringing his hands. “I’ve never felt quite so...out of control before.” His eyes met those of his closest confidant. “Every fiber of my being tells me to tear this country apart to bring her back to me—to turn this world upside down if I must.”
“But this is not what the general in you says?”
He shook his head, turning away from Neterka and gazing at the wall. “I need a plan. And to formulate a plan, I need more facts. Before I go chasing down my enemy, I need to know what their motives and intentions are. And I need to have at least some idea what they want.”
“You do know who is responsible?”
“I have no doubt this is the work of the Alexandrian mob.” There was disgust in his voice.
He caught Neterka’s eyes, and for the first time in all the time he had known this man, there was a dark mystery within those pools. It gave him pause. But he didn't have time to ponder this too. No, Ismene was out there. Somewhere. Enduring who knew what.
Stopping and setting his eyes on the door, he made his decision. “I’m going after her. I can’t wait here any longer. There is one good lead and I'm going to follow it.”
* * *
Ismene stirred and made her slow return to consciousness. Her head ached, and, touching her fingertips to her forehead, she discovered that the pain was internal and external. As if by instinct, she called for Alistair, mumbling his name.
When her eyes opened at last, she discovered that she was in a strange place. A rather cold, damp, and dark strange place. Pulling herself into a sitting position on the dirt floor, she remembered her earlier struggles. She was sore and bruised in many places, mostly on her arms and torso where they had restrained her while she fought for her freedom.
That brought back the memories of the attack. Nkuku had fought valiantly and sacrificed himself in her protection and then Alonah...she, too, had fought so hard. They had restrained Ismene, but had toyed with Alonah, letting her resist them only to beat her as she struggled. And then that one final blow...Ismene could still hear the sickening smack as Alonah’s defenseless body hit the wall. Tears streamed down Ismene’s face as she realized that she had lost her best friend. Alonah was gone.
She longed for Alistair’s strong embrace that could protect her against the harshness of reality and his gentle voice that could soothe her aching heart. But she had been robbed of that as well. Here she was, alone in this dungeon.
You must stop feeling sorry for yourself! If she was going to get out of here, get back to Alistair, she would have to pull herself together. She could do nothing about what had happened to her. All the regret in the world wouldn’t undo it. Closing her eyes, she attempted to focus her mind.
Who had abducted her? Why had they taken her? Two questions she wished she could answer. They had never made any demands. There wasn’t any hesitation in their actions, only determination and coldness. What were they going to do with her?
Ismene couldn't help but think on what her fate may be. This caused her to regret some of the decisions she had made. Why hadn't she tried to make things right with Alistair? It wasn't that she didn't fear her own demise, but more than that, she feared that it would all end with things between her and Alistair still at odds. She felt remorse for so many things. She knew that he regretted some of the things he had said. Why had she been so stubborn? Because she was hurting; she had let her pain rule her actions.
Her face dropped into her hands. She allowed herself a few moments of grief for what was and what should have been. Then her thoughts drifted to Jehovah. Was He watching her even now? Did He truly care of her sadness? Of her situation? If Jehovah was indeed listening, she prayed that He would keep her safe until she could make things right.
Shuffles nearby caused Ismene to break off her prayer. Her eyes searched in futility to discover the source of the sound. Everything was too dark and her eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the lack of light. There was definitely movement within the confines of the walls around her. The sound of her hea
rt thundered in her ears, cutting off her ability to hear anything else. Whoever it was drew near her.
“Who?” She tried to form the word with dry, parched lips, but it just wouldn't come.
The intruder knelt over her. The voice that spoke was not much more than a whisper. “Don't worry, it's me, Thelopolis.”
“Thelo...po...lis...” she managed. “What?”
“Shh, don't try to speak.” His hands were checking out her injuries. “You took quite a beating.” She could hear the anger in his voice. Had Thelopolis seen the whole thing?
“How?” she managed, resisting his hands. She needed answers.
Thelopolis sighed. Then he began to recount to her what had happened that day from his perspective.
“I was following you,” he confessed. Her eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness. She could make out his downcast face. Then he lifted his face to meet her eyes again. “It was my hope to catch you alone. And I was trying to find a way into the store when I saw that an attack was imminent. So I thought it was best to lay low and then to follow these men to wherever they would take you.
“I assumed they intended to abduct you. It did worry me when your guard was killed, and I again tried to find a way in, but it came to nothing. My first guess was right—you were the target and their purpose was to kidnap you. So I did follow them to this place.
“And I have been waiting, watching for an opportunity to make a move. Sneaking past the entry guards during a change in shift was easier than I thought. This cavernous structure is inside a mountain out in the desert. Perhaps their seclusion makes them a little lax on security. Since then, I've been wandering the tunnels, looking for you.”
Her eyes searched his in the dimness, wondering at the truth of his words. She believed him, but she was still trying to absorb it all.
“We must go,” he insisted, slipping an arm under her shoulders and one under her legs to attempt to lift her. As he did so, she cried out in pain. She hurt everywhere. She tried to stifle further reactive utterances as he stood, shifting her even more.
The General's Wife (Ancient Egypt) Page 20
