Asenath

by Anna Patricio

  It was none of my concern, but I could not help feeling sorry for the poor soul. He was all alone, with no one to help him.

  But I also knew I had to stay out of this. It was none of my business. I forced myself to be on my way.

  The entire time I went about my errands, I found I could not get the slave's heartbreaking image out of my mind. It grew too much to bear.

  In the end, I decided to return to him. I reasoned I would not really be interfering with anything, just help ease his pain a bit.

  I approached the slave trader's stall once more. The suffering man was still lying on the ground. I felt angry that no one cared to help.

  I knelt on the ground beside him. He smelled of sweat and blood. I could see the outline of his bones beneath his soiled skin.

  The other slaves stared at me. I ignored them. I uncovered my waterskin and held it out to him.

  "Here," I whispered. "Have some water."

  The slave was too weak to move so I placed the spout to his mouth. He had barely taken a few sips when he coughed violently.

  I gathered him in my arms, not caring how dirty he was. I patted his back.

  "It's all right. It's all right."

  The slave's skin was burning. He had a dreadful fever.

  I eased his head onto my lap and cradled him. He rolled his head over to one side.

  His face was pitifully covered in dirt and bruises. But his eyes seemed to glow. They were unlike any I had ever seen before—kaleidoscopes of hazel and olive green.

  I placed the waterskin's spout to his lips once more. He still sputtered at first, but soon drank steadily.

  All the while, I held him and gazed into his magical eyes. They reminded me of underwater plants that grew in the clear shallows of the Nile.

  The slave was still drinking when a foot appeared and kicked the waterskin from his mouth. I looked up. Immediately, I was yanked backward.

  The slave trader's dark leering face loomed above me. "Move along, little girl. You are not supposed to be here."

  I leapt to my feet and glared at him. "The slave is sick. Surely it would do you good to nourish him if you wish to sell him."

  His lizard-like nose pointed down at me haughtily. "Are you telling me how to run my business? Be off now, before I make you a slave."

  He raised his whip.

  He was a big man and I knew I was on the losing end of the fight. Reluctantly, I gathered my things and left. When I was a few feet away, I turned around to give the slave an apologetic look.

  To my surprise, I saw he was looking at me. The edges of his parched mouth turned upwards into a smile.

  I returned his smile, happy I had been able to offer him some relief.

  The trader charged toward him, yelling in a language I could not understand. He cracked his whip and flogged the slave mercilessly.

  "No!" I cried.

  I dropped my things and hurried back to the stall. I grabbed the trader's arm, but he was too strong.

  He hurled me to the ground.

  I jumped back to my feet. "Stop! Stop it!"

  "Kiya!"

  Itet, the daughter of the grouchy old kitchen servant, appeared.

  "Come with me, you stupid girl." She grabbed my arm and pushed me down before the things I had dropped.

  "Pick them up," she yelled.

  I obeyed wordlessly, even though I was seething. When I was finished, she yanked me back up and dragged me away.

  I glanced back to where the slave was still being beaten.

  "Don't even think about it," she said.

  I dragged my feet in the hopes of annoying her. She frowned, but said nothing.

  Back at the temple, Itet had the nerve to report me not only to the head servants but even the priests and priestesses.

  The frowning priest who I had met on my first day dragged me out into the courtyard. He shoved me onto my stomach on the ground and called for a whip.

  I curled up into a ball, whimpering.

  Pentephres appeared. "By the eye of Re, what are you doing? This is my job."

  The priest grunted and left.

  Pentephres knelt down beside me. "Kiya?"

  He touched my arm.

  I gingerly looked up.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "That was not supposed to happen. He takes things too far sometimes."

  He helped me up. "However, it is indeed improper for servants of Atum-Re to behave so coarsely in public. I must still discipline you. But I

  won't flog you. That is far too severe. I will just have to ask you to have dinner alone tonight. You cannot join your friends."

  I lowered my head. "Yes, my lord."

  I felt the defeat press heavily upon me.

  Pentephres smiled slightly. "Go now. I believe you and Menah have some studying to do."

  Seated before a low alabaster table with scrolls and brushes spread out before me, I vented about the earlier events to my best friend.

  "All this for a slave?" He made a tsk-tsk sound as he stirred ink in his water pot.

  I glared at him. "If you were there you would understand. It was horrible, Menah. He was suffering and no one was helping him. Even the slaves around him were just...looking at him."

  "They can't do anything." He shrugged coolly.

  "Well, what about the slave trader? He could have, I don't know, given him medicine or something. He had a really bad fever."

  "That is none of our concern."

  "How could you be so cold-hearted?" I nearly yelled. "We have it better than many people. You can at least care about those less lucky than you―"

  "Kiya..."

  "How would you like it if you were lying in the hot sun with no one to care for you?"

  "Kiya. Calm down. Here, drink this."

  Menah took up his waterskin. He wedged the spout in between my lips. He tilted it so I had no choice but to drink.

  "Look, Kiya," he said afterward. "It's nice you want to help people. But you can't do anything about today anymore. Leave it in the hands of the gods."

  As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I still wanted to fight back though. But I didn't know what to say.

  I slumped in defeated silence.

  That night, I lay in bed, staring out at the black starless sky. I was haunted by images of the slave in the marketplace. Again and again, I replayed the afternoon's events.

  For a while, I felt reassured knowing that I had afforded the poor man a measure of comfort. But I worried about what might have happened to him after I was dragged away.

  I closed my eyes. Once again, I could see his bruised and dirtied face. I could nearly feel his feverish skin in my arms.

  I thought about this some more, as if it would make a difference. But soon, I was worn out.

  Alas, Menah was right. I couldn't do anything anymore.

  Reluctantly, I let it go.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Some months later, life slowed down, giving me the opportunity to reflect on everything that had happened to me so far. To my dismay, old wounds reopened and bled.

  I wanted to cry and release everything. Still, the tears refused to come.

  I wondered what had become of me. Perhaps some demon robbed me of all human emotion, so that I had become a cold, lifeless monster.

  I wondered if I would ever see the village again. I was torn about this. A part of me wanted to return for all obvious reasons. But another part felt it would be too painful.

  To try to enlighten myself on this matter, I asked my friends if they wanted to return.

  The twins, being people of few words, simply said, "We'll see."

  As for Menah, he looked as if someone had snatched the joy out of him. He was quiet for a long time.

  "I don't think so," he finally said. "There is nothing left for me there. Everything from our old life is gone. It's over. We can no longer go back."

  The bitter truth, so bluntly spoken, slapped me across the face. I bent forward and buried my face in my hands.

  Sti
ll the cursed tears would not come.

  Menah put an arm around me. "You miss our old life, don't you?"

  I didn't reply, too distraught to speak.

  He was quiet for a while. Then he said, "You know, I don't think our parents would want us to be sad forever. I bet if they could see us now, they would be happy. I mean, Heliopolis is such an exciting place. I sure am having fun here. I hope you will soon too."

  I could not help feeling a bit annoyed. It seemed as if Menah was carelessly brushing the topic aside.

  "I have to go." I rose.

  "Do you want to go to the marketplace tomorrow?" he called out behind me.

  "No thank you."

  I really appreciated him trying to cheer me up. But everything was just so bleak.

  One day, Pharaoh and some of his officials came to the temple to meet with Lord Pentephres. Like in the Feast of Atum-Re, we were once again assembled in rows at the temple gates.

  After we were bade rise, I saw the royal company walking in casual groups and chatting in a relaxed manner. They disappeared into one of the buildings. We returned to our duties.

  Menah went to the sanatoria, the place where texts and apparati for magic arts were stored. For a moment, I wondered what he was doing there. Then I shrugged.

  I went off to study by myself. I retrieved my school materials and headed toward the garden. It was such a lovely day that I decided to do my lessons outdoors.

  A figure emerged from behind a row of lotus columns. My head was bowed as it usually was when I was lost in thought. The first thing I saw was a pair of jewelled sandals.

  I stared in amazement. I had never seen such beautiful sandals before. They looked to be made of the stars. The straps were beaded with faience and pearls. The soles were made of silver leather.

  I lifted my eyes to see a shapely woman's body draped in soft linen. Bracelets of gold and precious stones curled around her slim brown arms. Rings sparkled on her manicured fingers. The scent of water lilies drifted from her skin.

  Then I met her face.

  My skin broke into chills.

  Standing before me was Lady Zalikha, the wife of Lord Potiphar, the woman who had berated me for spilling beer on her dress.

  I only had a quick glance at her last time, but I remembered her to be a striking beauty. My memory had not failed me.

  She stood proudly, carrying herself like a queen. Her tanned oval face was framed by a wig beaded with tiny diamonds. Her skin was flawless. Her features were exquisitely formed and elegantly made up.

  Yet, the smile on her rosy lips was that of a cobra's.

  "What are you looking at?" Her voice was nearly a hiss.

  I flushed. I had not realised I had been staring intently.

  "F-forgive me, my lady." I bowed.

  "What are you looking at?"

  "Your s-sandals, my lady."

  "You've never seen anything like them before, have you?"

  "No, my lady."

  "I thought so. An ignorant peasant like you wouldn't be accustomed to fine things."

  A pause.

  Thinking she had finished, I bowed and backed up to leave.

  "Did I dismiss you?" she screeched.

  Her sparkling blue eyes narrowed. The kohl streaks around them looked like arrows ready to kill.

  I froze in my steps. "N-no. Forgive me, my lady."

  "Why did you walk away? Did you think I was done?"

  "Yes, my lady."

  She laughed. "You really are as stupid as I remember. But what would you peasants know? My dress you ruined at the feast, do you have any idea how much that cost?"

  "No, my lady."

  "You see?"

  She moved toward me. The hairs at the back of my neck rose.

  She grabbed a fistful of my hair. I cried out.

  She yanked my head to the side. "You are in trouble, you know. Big trouble. Do you know what we in the city do to wicked little girls who destroy other people's things?"

  "Don't be so dramatic, Zalikha," a voice said. "Your dress wasn't even slightly destroyed."

  Zalikha released my hair and shoved me backward.

  Pentephres appeared beside me. "It's all right, Kiya."

  He touched my arm gently.

  Lord Potiphar was with him. He gave me a sympathetic look, then strode over to his wife.

  "What are you doing out here anyway?" he asked. "You're supposed to be at the meeting with Pharaoh."

  Zalikha shrugged. "It's not like I'd have anything to contribute anyway. None of this would have happened if you had allowed me to stay home."

  Potiphar sighed loudly. "You know we both ought to honour Pharaoh with our attendance. Come now, I am not going through this with you again, Zalikha. Besides, you've been home a lot lately. You need to get out once in a while."

  "I happen to like being at home. Is that such a terrible sin?"

  "No, but it would do you good to venture out sometimes."

  "So now I am a slave, bound to do your bidding?"

  "No, of course not, Zalikha. Please don't twist every word I say."

  I glanced at the couple. They were young, in their forties or late thirties. They might have made an attractive pair. But at the moment Potiphar looked more like a father scolding his rebellious child.

  Zalikha glared at him. "I'm going to the marketplace. You did say you wanted me to venture out, after all."

  She stormed off, the beads of her wig jiggling furiously.

  Potiphar shook his head. He turned to us with an embarrassed look.

  "Forgive me, friends. My wife has had a bit of a temper lately."

  I took a deep breath. "I didn't mean to displease her. I'm sorry if I did."

  Pentephres gently touched my cheek. "You did nothing wrong, Kiya. Run along now and don't worry about it anymore."

  I gave the two men a grateful bow and continued on my way.

  Luckily, I did not see Zalikha too often. Later, I heard that she and Potiphar did not even live in Heliopolis. They lived all the way in Thebes, Egypt's capital.

  After that, I learned to appreciate what I had. Life as a temple orphan might not have been the ideal one. But I was comfortable, stable and secure.

  Additionally, we were treated well. It truly was a pleasant environment. I had even heard that there were some servants like Irikara who, although granted freedom, chose to remain because they liked it there.

  I also relished the simple joys that brightened my days. There were my friends, especially Menah. There were trips around Heliopolis on our days off. There were the lessons with Pentephres. There was the beauty of the temple garden—the pool with its water lilies and the flowers of many colours.

  I assumed that I would be granted freedom when I grew older. By then I would be able to decide if I truly wanted to return to the fishing village or not.

  But for now, I decided to abandon all thoughts of the future. It was best to let it take care of itself.

  A week after I had turned eleven, Irikara approached Menah and I while we had our noses buried in scrolls.

  "Get ready for tomorrow," she said. "It will be a big day."

  "What do we have to do?" I asked.

  "Nothing actually. Just go to bed earlier than usual tonight. You will need a lot of energy tomorrow. Also, I will be waking you up ahead of everyone else."

  "But why?"

  She darted away.

  I turned to see Menah grinning.

  "Menah, what's going on? Do you know something I don't?"

  He shrugged. "You'll see."

  "How come you know about this and I don't?"

  He smiled and simply turned back to his lessons.

  "Menah?"

  "Hush now, Kiya. I am trying to concentrate."

  "No you're not. You just don't want to tell me what's happening."

  "Kiya, shhh."

  "Menah, please tell me."

  "I have to study now."

  I prodded a bit more, but it was all in vain.

  The f
ollowing morning, Irikara woke me up. I saw everyone else was still snoring soundly in their mats.

  "Go have a bath and some breakfast," she whispered. "Then come back here."

  I returned just as my roommates were filing out. Irikara was now seated beside my mat. She gestured to me.

  I approached and saw she had lain out all sorts of strange and fascinating things on it—tiny jars and bottles, small sticks tipped with tufts of hair and some weird pointed things.

  I gaped in puzzlement. "What's all this?"

  "Things to make you look pretty." She smiled.

  "What for?"

  "Come." She patted the spot beside her.

  I sat down.

  "Well, Kiya, you are going to have a very important meeting with Lord Pentephres today. It will be a formal affair, so I will have to dress you up. This will take the whole morning. But you will be very beautiful in the end."

  "What's the meeting about?"

  "You'll find out soon enough. But we must begin now. We can't waste time."

  First, she shaved me, then rubbed me with oil the scent of waterlilies. Afterward, she trimmed, smoothed and polished my nails. It was a delicate process.

  I was nervous at first. But she was very gentle and careful, like a compassionate doctor. I eventually relaxed.

  She combed my hair and to my greatest shock began to cut it. I let out a cry of astonishment.

  She quickly said, "You will be wearing a fancy wig. Your hair is too long to tuck inside it."

  "But I don't wear wigs that often."

  "You will now."

  "Why?"

  "Hush now, Kiya. You'll see why later."

  I slumped.

  She rapped my back. "Straighten up."

  She cut my hair to the length of my shoulders. Then she moved in front of me.

  "All right. Close your eyes and be very, very still. I am going to make your face very beautiful."

  I complied. I felt her rubbing all sorts of substances onto my face. Some were moist and cool. Others were powdery. A few were sticky.

  Once in a while, she asked me to pucker and pout. When she was finished, my face felt like it was being pulled down by a heavy weight.

  She told me I could open my eyes again. I saw her reaching for a tiny bottle shaped like a hippo. She opened it and dabbed a generous amount of perfume on my skin.

  I looked down at my gangly brown arms and gasped. "What is this? It looks like there are stars on my skin."