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Authors: Michelle Moran
Tags: Fiction, Historical
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Merit, who pretended not to be listening. "Yes. And she did it out of spite." Asha lowered his voice. "She may be all sweetness and perfume with Ramesses, but we know the truth. I can tell him--"
"No," I said at once. "He'll think that you're being petty and jealous."
Trumpets echoed from the quayside, and Iset emerged from the palace, answering their call. I knew that once she reached the quay, she would sail alone to the Temple of Amun on the eastern bank. Ramesses would ride in a vessel behind her, and the court would follow them in boats decorated with silver pennants and gold. Once the High Priest anointed Iset a princess, she would return with Ramesses in his boat, wearing his family ring to signify their union. Then Ramesses would carry her onto the quay and over the threshold of the palace they would come to rule. They would only emerge later that night for the feast. It was his carrying her across the threshold of Malkata that would bind their marriage. Nothing the priests did in the temple could make them married in the eyes of Amun unless he chose to carry her inside, and for a wild moment I imagined that he might refuse. He might realize that Iset was not the rose she pretended to be, but a tangle of thorns, and he would change his mind.
But, of course, this did not happen. Instead, we sailed in a long flotilla of boats down the river, and all along the shore the people began chanting Iset's name. The women raised ivory clappers above their heads, and those who couldn't afford such luxuries used their hands as they shouted for their queen. It was as though a goddess had descended to earth. Children floated lotus blossoms on the water, and little girls who caught sight of her face wept with excited joy. When we reached the temple, Ramesses took Iset as his wife, and they returned to the cheers of a thousand guests. Then he took her up in his arms, and they disappeared together into the palace.
The festivity was so joyous that all formality was dismissed, and Asha seized the chance to join me at the viziers' table. "So Iset is a princess now," he said. He looked down the length of the pavilion to the closed double doors of the palace. "At least you won't have to see her anymore. She'll spend all of her time in the Audience Chamber."
"Yes. With Ramesses," I pointed out.
But Asha shook his head. "No. Ramesses will be with me. There is going to be war with the Hittites."
I put down my cup of wine. "What do you mean?"
"The city of Kadesh has belonged to Egypt since the time of Thutmose. It was the Heretic King who allowed the Hittites to take Kadesh, and all of the port cities that made Egypt wealthy are enriching Hatti now. Pharaoh Seti won't stand for it anymore. He has reconquered all of the lands that the Heretic lost, and all that remains to be retaken is Kadesh."
"I know this," I said, impatient. "I've studied it all with Paser. But he never said Egypt was preparing for war now. "
Asha nodded. "Probably by Phaophi."
"But what if Ramesses is killed? Or if you come back maimed? Asha, you've seen the soldiers--"
"That won't happen to us. It's our first battle. We'll be well protected."
"Pharaoh Tutankhamun was well protected, and it didn't stop his chariot from overturning. He died from that broken leg!"
Asha put his arm around my shoulders. "A king is expected to lead his men into battle. It's too bad you weren't born a man, Nefer. You might have come with us. But we'll come back," he promised easily. "And you'll see. Nothing will change."
I smiled, and hoped it would be so. But in the blur of events, I was learning how poorly hope alone would serve me.
THAT EVENING, Merit brought me a stick of wax. She held the tip to the flame of the candle, then dripped it slowly onto the papyrus. I waited until the droplets had hardened before pressing my signet ring into the wax. Then I handed the letter to Merit.
"Are you sure you want to send this, my lady? Perhaps you need a few days to think?"
I shook my
"No," I said at once. "He'll think that you're being petty and jealous."
Trumpets echoed from the quayside, and Iset emerged from the palace, answering their call. I knew that once she reached the quay, she would sail alone to the Temple of Amun on the eastern bank. Ramesses would ride in a vessel behind her, and the court would follow them in boats decorated with silver pennants and gold. Once the High Priest anointed Iset a princess, she would return with Ramesses in his boat, wearing his family ring to signify their union. Then Ramesses would carry her onto the quay and over the threshold of the palace they would come to rule. They would only emerge later that night for the feast. It was his carrying her across the threshold of Malkata that would bind their marriage. Nothing the priests did in the temple could make them married in the eyes of Amun unless he chose to carry her inside, and for a wild moment I imagined that he might refuse. He might realize that Iset was not the rose she pretended to be, but a tangle of thorns, and he would change his mind.
But, of course, this did not happen. Instead, we sailed in a long flotilla of boats down the river, and all along the shore the people began chanting Iset's name. The women raised ivory clappers above their heads, and those who couldn't afford such luxuries used their hands as they shouted for their queen. It was as though a goddess had descended to earth. Children floated lotus blossoms on the water, and little girls who caught sight of her face wept with excited joy. When we reached the temple, Ramesses took Iset as his wife, and they returned to the cheers of a thousand guests. Then he took her up in his arms, and they disappeared together into the palace.
The festivity was so joyous that all formality was dismissed, and Asha seized the chance to join me at the viziers' table. "So Iset is a princess now," he said. He looked down the length of the pavilion to the closed double doors of the palace. "At least you won't have to see her anymore. She'll spend all of her time in the Audience Chamber."
"Yes. With Ramesses," I pointed out.
But Asha shook his head. "No. Ramesses will be with me. There is going to be war with the Hittites."
I put down my cup of wine. "What do you mean?"
"The city of Kadesh has belonged to Egypt since the time of Thutmose. It was the Heretic King who allowed the Hittites to take Kadesh, and all of the port cities that made Egypt wealthy are enriching Hatti now. Pharaoh Seti won't stand for it anymore. He has reconquered all of the lands that the Heretic lost, and all that remains to be retaken is Kadesh."
"I know this," I said, impatient. "I've studied it all with Paser. But he never said Egypt was preparing for war now. "
Asha nodded. "Probably by Phaophi."
"But what if Ramesses is killed? Or if you come back maimed? Asha, you've seen the soldiers--"
"That won't happen to us. It's our first battle. We'll be well protected."
"Pharaoh Tutankhamun was well protected, and it didn't stop his chariot from overturning. He died from that broken leg!"
Asha put his arm around my shoulders. "A king is expected to lead his men into battle. It's too bad you weren't born a man, Nefer. You might have come with us. But we'll come back," he promised easily. "And you'll see. Nothing will change."
I smiled, and hoped it would be so. But in the blur of events, I was learning how poorly hope alone would serve me.
THAT EVENING, Merit brought me a stick of wax. She held the tip to the flame of the candle, then dripped it slowly onto the papyrus. I waited until the droplets had hardened before pressing my signet ring into the wax. Then I handed the letter to Merit.
"Are you sure you want to send this, my lady? Perhaps you need a few days to think?"
I shook my
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