by Jo Franklin
It was as these depressing thoughts occupied her that a breeze swept quite unexpectedly down the narrow street. She could smell air so pure and sweet, so unnatural, it could only have been sent from above. It seemed to revive her. With the exuberance of youth returning to every corner of her body, she felt renewed energy and hope. She began to swing her legs. No one had caught up with her. She was alive and she’d remain that way, if she kept one step ahead of Ptah. And she would – he wouldn’t triumph over her.
She could hear noise from the main street. There were cheers and the sound of horses. She was curious. It couldn’t be anyone after her.
Cautiously she made her way up to where the people stood. She kept to the back of the crowd at first, and could see very little. She determined to get closer, and somehow squeezed her way to the front. There was some sort of procession. Men in beautiful clothes walked steadily along, carrying poles, their brown muscular chests gleaming in the sunlight. The gold around their necks and on their wigs sparkled so much she could scarcely look at them. Then, seated on a magnificent black horse, which also sparkled with precious stones embedded in its saddle and bridle, sat a very noble lord. His bejewelled wig and huge gold necklace made her realise just how wealthy he must be. But it was his face which held her attention and caused her to gasp. His dark eyes, proudly staring down at the crowds from his bronzed face, seemed almost familiar to her, as did his aristocratic nose and sensuous mouth. She reached out without thinking, in a futile attempt to touch him, and was immediately whacked by one of guards. The blow was so hard that she fell.
“Get out the way, tramp,” he hissed at her.
The rider looked at her in the commotion and their eyes met. He frowned, hesitated a second, seemed almost to say something, decided against it, and rode on. But even as she struggled to her feet, still reeling with pain from the blow, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. As she did so, she saw a faint twitch in the back of his shoulders, as if he too felt something had passed between them.
*
Long after the crowds dispersed, she stood rooted to the spot. She held her arm, trying to numb the excruciating pain. The guard had been quite brutal in his attack. She wondered if her arm was broken.
A gentle hand touched her.
“Are you all right?” a voice spoke softly.
“I’m not sure,” Tadinanefer replied quietly.
“You poor lad. You’ve suffered a bad injury and you look as if you could do with a good meal and fresh clothes. Come with me to the temple and I’ll find people to bathe you and make you well again. Come, come, follow me.”
She needed little encouragement. She walked a few paces behind the woman, not losing sight of her, as they went through many streets, filled with people, and wound their way up a hillside; they entered through a large pillared gate, the outbuildings of a big complex.
As soon as they were safely in a small outer room, the woman turned and smiled. Tadinanefer was struck by the sweetness in her face. She was much older than Tadinanefer, maybe thirty-something.
“My name is Chione; now let me look at your arm.”
Tadinanefer hesitated.
“Don’t worry,” Chione continued. “I only want to look at your injury. The men will help you otherwise.”
Tadinanefer pulled back her sleeve. The whiteness of her arm contrasting with the purple bruise caused Chione to gasp. However she said nothing and proceeded to examine her arm with the expertise of someone experienced with injuries.
“I think it’s only badly bruised. I’ve got potions to heal it, but I don’t understand how it’s turned your arm white. But there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll massage the blood back into your limb and its colour will be restored. Here, sit for a moment and I’ll try now.”
She began to stroke her arm very gently, quietly murmuring ancient words. In performing her task, her head covering slipped and now it was Tadinanefer’s turn to gasp in surprise.
“You have strange ears! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, but they’re different.”
“I was born with these. I know they stick out but they were a special gift from the Gods. They give me healing powers. But look – I believe the colour is coming back into your arm. It’s going a bit red. I think after a few more minutes it’ll be well again. I’ll call one of the men and they’ll look after you.”
“No! Please wait.” Tadinanefer struggled for words. She had to reveal her identity. That was dangerous enough, and yet to be thrown over to the male fraternity would be even more of a disaster.
“I’m not what I seem. I had to take on these men’s clothes because my master was cross with me, and I ran away from him. He chased after me and would have killed me, if he’d caught me. I’m in disguise. I’m not a boy at all – I’m really a female.”
Chione stared at her, clearly not certain whether to believe her or not.
“Please, will you allow me to take off my clothes? You’ll soon know I’m a woman. I… have something else I must tell you.”
“Yes?”
“Like you, I’m unusual. Because my parents came from another country I’m a different colour to everyone else. My arm wasn’t white because of losing blood. The whole of my body is white. My hair is a different colour to everyone else’s. It’s very brown and very curly. Please don’t be afraid of me. There are a few white people in this country but none as far as I know around here. I can’t help being what I am, just as you are.”
“Let me see your hair first,” Chione said cautiously.
Slowly Tadinanefer unwound the rags from her hair. It was unkempt and dirty but even so the beauty of its colour was quite unmistakable. No man could ever have owned hair like it.
Chione was amazed, and hesitated. Then she suddenly gained courage.
“Okay, take your clothes off, but I must tell you I have guards I can call instantly if you’re lying.”
Tadinanefer wiped the mud from her face. She slipped the dirty garments over her head and stood completely naked. Her body gleamed like pale marble. She stood very still, letting Chione study her in utter astonishment.
“I can’t believe it! I’ve never seen anything like you,” she gasped. “You’re like one of the stone statues in the temples. How did you get to be that colour? You say your parents were from another country. I’ve never seen a white person before.”
“My parents came from a far-off place where the people are white, and some have gold-coloured hair, like my mother and father. They died here, sadly, and I was bought by a wealthy man. He wanted to take me with him to the afterlife before my time. My adopted mother stopped it and helped me to escape. But he’s still after me and will kill me if he finds me.”
Chione’s face flooded with compassion. “Here, wrap yourself in this blanket. No one will find you here. It’s too heavily guarded. First we must get you clean, clothed and fed. The Gods have sent you to us to be protected. I’ll take you with me to the women’s quarters and we’ll look after you.”
She led Tadinanefer across the square into another set of buildings. Here she was fussed over, and everything was done to make her comfortable. For the first time in many days she slept, in the knowledge that she was safe and cared for.
*
She dreamt of the man on the black horse. He kept looking down at her with a strange warm light in his eyes, as she lay hurt and wounded on the stony earth. Instead of her holding out her hand to him, he stretched out his arm to her as if to lift her up and place her beside him on his black stallion.
She woke with a start. She had to find out who he was and where he lived. She must find him again. She had to see him.
*
Ptah didn’t find her. Chione told her that even if he’d been to the temple he wouldn’t have been allowed near the women, who were protected by the heavens. Mostly the women were very young and beautiful, like Tadinanefer, and Chione said they’d been brought to the temple to remain as virgins until a decision was made about their future. There were a few wit
h some sort of minor deformity who were accepted because they carried a gift of healing, or teaching, like Chione. Tadinanefer’s colour was quickly ignored and she was allowed to walk in the confines of the women’s gardens where no one from the outside world could see her.
She became good friends with Chione. She quickly learned the ways of prayer, and Chione began to teach her how to read the prayers written on the walls in hieroglyphics, and how to copy the writings onto papyrus. She also taught her how to draw and was surprised at how talented she was.
“You write and draw well,” Chione said, one time. “We must record many things, so people will know how we lived in years to come.”
*
Tadinanefer tried to be happy and content in her new life, but something was missing.
“That day you found me,” she said to Chione one evening as they sat together, “there was a procession. Do you know who it was for?”
“I’m not sure,” Chione replied thoughtfully. “There are always a lot of people passing through the town. I do recall it was for someone very wealthy, possibly a nobleman, or maybe even our Pharaoh, or someone in his family. I don’t know who it was. Why? Is it important?”
“No, not really.” Tadinanefer knew it wasn’t wise to push the subject any further. She wasn’t quite sure whether talking about the outside world was totally accepted, and she didn’t want to alienate Chione. Even so she decided the time had come to see what was around the complex.
*
The very next day, when she was alone in the women’s section, she decided to try and climb the wall. She’d examined it several times and there were footholds in the wall where stones had either become dislodged or she could remove a loose one and put it aside to gain access to the top. She knew it was dangerous, and she might fall and really hurt herself, but it was a risk she had to take. Gathering her skirt about her, she knotted it to one side of her body and swung easily into the first foothold. The wall was dusty and it was difficult to hold on to parts of it to steady herself, but she was determined not to give up. She breathed slowly and worked her way up, taking each step as it came. Once or twice she glanced down, more fearful than anything that one of the women might come out for their evening walk, but no one appeared and soon she had reached the top.
Catching her breath, she paused for only a second and then slid carefully down the other side, using the same technique as before, and soon she had reached the ground, and was outside the women’s quarters. She was still within the confines of the temple but she’d come out at the back where no visitors would ever go. There was another small wall to climb but that proved easier than the first. As she stood at last beyond the temple she unknotted her skirt and looked around to see just where she was.
She knew that this time she’d no intention of leaving; she was merely trying out an escape route for when she could manage to get clothes and food to take with her. Where she would go she didn’t know, but she’d somehow find out where the rider and his stallion were.
She walked carefully round the corner of the wall. She was more or less on the outskirts of the town and it would be easy enough to escape quickly and disappear just as long as she was once more in disguise.
“What! What’s this?”
She turned quickly. She’d been an idiot. She hadn’t watched her back and now someone stood in her way, barring her return.
“What on earth are you?” the man said, incredulously.
She faced her adversary. He didn’t look like a temple guard. He was well dressed, with gold round his neck, quite young, and he looked as if he’d always enjoyed the good things in life.
“You’re a very funny colour,” he continued. “Why are you so white? Are you ill? And why is your hair like that?” He reached out and pulled it, making her wince in pain.
“Don’t touch me,” she hissed at him. “I’m special and I’ll put a curse on you if you’re not careful.”
He looked at her curiously. “Are you from that so-called temple?”
“No, I’m not. Why should I be?”
“Because you’ve just come over the wall. And they’ve been known to take in some odd women. Another thing – you’re wearing the thin white dress those girls always wear there. Not that I think you’re odd, in fact now I look closely at you I think you’re very desirable and very different. No, you’re very nice.” He started to look at her more closely, his eyes moving down her body. He grasped her skirt. “I’ve only ever seen a few people like you. Are you that colour all over?”
She suddenly realised the danger she was in. Masika, her mother, had instructed her about growing up and how to watch out for the advances of men who didn’t love her but just wanted to use her.
“Yes, but wait. I’m not ready. Meet me near that building over there in a few minutes and we can talk more.”
He hesitated. “I thought you females always did your potions and spells before you came out here. Where are yours? I can come and help you if you like.”
“They’re just near the wall, back a bit. But I must do my rituals on my own. I’ll be quick.”
He stared at her for a moment. “Don’t mess me about,” he muttered, and stood back.
She raced to the wall and climbed it with agility this time. She was soon back in the women’s section, breathing heavily from her exertion, and more than just a little scared. Perhaps racing out into the outside world without a proper plan wasn’t a good idea and she’d have to work on something else.
Then she began to realise something. If she could climb the wall then any of the young girls could do exactly the same thing and get to the outside. Why would they do that? Had the man been waiting for someone? Were some of the women not quite as chaste as they were made out to be?
She found Chione sitting quietly in her room, with a bowl in front of her, mixing herbs.
“Are you all right, Tadinanefer? You seem worried – and look, your skirt is torn.”
“No, no, Chione. I’m fine.” She must have damaged her dress on the way down.
Chione glanced quizzically at her. “If something’s wrong you must tell me.”
“I thought I saw someone climbing the women’s wall. I tried to follow and slipped.”
“Someone climbing the wall?” She paused. “The girls have been told not to do that. It’s dangerous. They do it as a laugh, I think. Sometimes they get hurt. You mustn’t do it again. Promise me.”
Tadinanefer nodded. “Have any of them been really hurt?”
“Sometimes. But let’s not talk about it. Change your dress, and then I’ll take you to meet a very sweet girl who I think you’ll like more than the others. Her name is Eboni.”
*
Once again Tadinanefer followed Chione, as she led the way between a maze of corridors on the lower level of the buildings and into another small room, where a girl was seated on a chair.
As the other girl stood up Chione smiled at them both. “How pretty you are together. You’re both so slim, and you have perfect proportions in the right places. And how you contrast! Tadinanefer, you have the most beautiful white skin and are like the day, and Eboni, your skin is black, like the night. And your hair. Tadinanefer’s is brown, with a hint of the sun, and Eboni, your hair is like the black sky just before morning. Embrace each other because you’re going to be the best of friends.” She watched like a mother as the two did as they were told.
“Now I must go, and you must talk. I’ll see you later, Tadinanefer. Someone will come to lead you back.”
The two sat down side by side.
“You have such a lovely name, Tadinanefer. I believe it means someone who is given beauty.”
Tadinanefer smiled. “I think that’s right.”
Eboni laid her arm next to Tadinanefer’s pale one.
“Why are you so white?”
“It’s a long story. My folk came from another country, and both sadly died.”
“That happened to my people as well. I was left in the street to die, but th
is place took me in and saved me. They’ve always looked after me and now I’m ready to repay my debt.”
“I don’t understand.”
Eboni smiled. “Do you know what this place is?”
Tadinanefer hesitated. She was beginning to suspect it was not as she’d been led to believe.
“Some sort of temple? Chione has taught me prayers and how to write in hieroglyphics.”
“She’s a very good person. She lives in her own little world. She believes what she wants to believe. Everything about her is noble. She knows what the place is, but she still helps out in her own valuable way. No one will ever question what she does because she has powers to help us, and is essential to the institution.”
Tadinanefer started thinking. She remembered the man’s words, ‘so-called temple,’ and now Eboni was calling it an institution.
“There are a lot of girls here,” Tadinanefer said quietly. “Young girls like us. Some of them climb the wall.”
“Yes, and do you know why they do that?”
“No.”
“They get expensive presents from the men outside. The guards turn a blind eye because they take the best of the pickings.”
“You mean the girls pay the guards so they can visit the men?”
“Yes.”
“But aren’t the women being schooled in the ways of the temple?”
“It isn’t a temple,” Eboni said gently. “It’s a whorehouse. We’re all being trained to please, not the Gods, but man.”
Tadinanefer drew in a short, sharp breath. “That’s terrible! What on earth have I come to? This isn’t for me!” She paused. “But what do the girls think – do they mind?”
“No. If they didn’t do this they’d perish on the streets. This way we all have a chance to live.”
“But why did Chione bring me here? I was in disguise as a man in rags, running away from my master, and she thought I was some dirty old tramp from the gutter.”
Eboni laughed gently. “Did she? Sometimes she brings in disreputable characters, because she learns from them. Some of the secrets of our potions come from these funny old folk, who know plants and trees and the old ways. She’s learnt a lot. She must have thought you might have a wealth of knowledge. Wow! She must have been so surprised when she found out you were a female!”
