Young Writers Society

XXII

Pharaoh Senusret II stood over her father’s old desk. Once again he was the hailed Pharaoh. But, from her seat in the back of the room, Asenath could see a glimpse of the worn man from the night before.

Reziya sat to her right slowly rocking the baby. The two of them had become quite attracted, and Asenath was glad for the help.

Has it really only been a couple of hours since he died?

After crying herself to sleep in the guest bedroom, she had slept for about five hours.

Time to work, not cry.

Joseph and Senusret, both dressed in their official clothes, leaned over documents and talked in hushed tones.

“This is a nasty business if you ask me,” Joseph declared.

Asenath wanted to ask why. But, here, she was only to speak if spoken to.

“Yes,” the Pharaoh agreed. “He left no last wishes or anything. His death was rather unexpected. Thank the gods that at least his tomb is done.”

“That is good.”

“Now, we have to get mourners and embalmers and give his possessions to his legal heir. And for all those things we need a priest. Since he is a priest, we need the high priest. But, one problem.”

Joseph grinned a little.

“He WAS the high priest! So, before we can do anything, I have to appoint a new high priest! I don’t even know who would be qualified!” He rubbed his temple and shook his head.

“We should ask the man that was closest to him. Asenath, who would that be?”

She was caught by surprise, but she knew how to not show her emotions. “That would probably be his scribe. They were good friends.”

“Wise idea, Zaphenath-paneah. Call in the scribe.”

Unfortunately, the scribe turned out to know nothing of importance to the situation. The Pharaoh was obviously aggravated.

“Is there anybody else?”

Asenath thought for a moment. “Well, you could ask Quibilah, his wife.”

“Go get her.”

“Me, sir?”

“Yes, you! This better work!”

Asenath gracefully exited the room. Though she was much changed, she had not lost her noble gait. Once, she had been the princess, the Vision of Egypt. Now, she was much more. If a stranger came to Egypt, he or she might think that she was the Queen of Egypt. Even in this time of pain, she had an air of calm leadership. She willed her heart to beat steadily.

With Elohim, I will approach my mother without fear.

She found her mother in her private chambers. Her mother was sitting on a stool with her back to Asenath, facing the rising sun. A sole beam of light penetrated the dim room. It crossed her mother’s stool and cast a long shadow on the floor.

Asenath paused for a moment, considering what to do.

Get it over with.

“Mother?”

Her mother slowly turned her head.

Asenath wanted to scream. It had only been five months since she had seen her mother. So much had changed. Her bones stuck out like a skeleton with shin hanging on it. Her cheeks, though sunken before, now were sunken so much that Asenath could see the clean outlining of her facial bones. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying. Otherwise, those same eyes were lifeless.

“Asenath? My daughter?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“What do you want?” Her voice shook with emotion.

“I want to talk with you. But, not now. Pharaoh Senusret asks for you.”

“Mmm. Of course he does. He probably wants all our money to use for that vizier’s silly projects.”

Asenath suppressed her thoughts.

“Oh, I forgot. Zaphenath-paneah is your husband. My condolences. At least you married well.

That’s all she ever cared about.

“Come now, it’s not the time to be cynical.”

“Humph.” The woman’s iron attitude melted. Her lip quivered. “Why can’t he just leave the mourning in peace?”

Asenath wasn’t sure if she wanted to comfort her or soundly reprimand her for being foolish. “Here, take my arm and I will help you to the office.”

Under normal circumstances, Quibilah’s pride would have kept her from this. But, her body was weak from lack of sleep, food, and peace. “A dying woman does need some help,” she thought to herself. “Come here, girl.”

Asenath rushed to her side. Quibilah leaned against her daughter, placing her bony fingers on Asenath’s forearm. They were ice cold and shaking slightly.

“Let’s see what he wants.”

Silently, they walked down the halls arm in arm. Asenath couldn’t think Of anything to say. It had only been five months. Five months! Yet, it felt like five years.

What could they talk about? Her father’s last words of hatred? Her new heretical faith? How could there be healing in so much pain?

They reached the office. Quibilah hastily let go of Asenath’s arm and straightened her posture. Her mother’s whole attitude changed from mourning to stern resolution.

“Asenath, you look positively thin. Go to the kitchen; get some food. A pregnant woman shouldn’t starve herself.”

“What!” Asenath exclaimed, eyes wide.

“I have ways of knowing things. We will talk.” She reached out to open the door.

“Wait,” Asenath grabbed her arm. “Don’t tell Jo…Zaphenath-paneah. I’m really not sure yet, and I want to wait a bit to tell him.”

“Would I be so indiscreet?”

Yes.

“Just promise me you won’t tell him.”

“If you insist. Now, shoo.”

Asenath nodded and started towards the cooking room.

How could she have known?

Asenath had only been sitting outside the kitchen eating a meal cake for about ten minutes when Reziya burst through the door, still clutching Manasseh. She was out of breath and smiling wide. Offhandedly, Asenath noticed that she was missing one of her back teeth.

“Is everything alright?”

Reziya giggled like a little girl. “Alright? Everything is wonderful. I mean, I felt bad when the old master died, all coughing up blood, but now! I just can’t wait! You’ll take me with you, of course. And let me be his godmother?” Reziya looked expectantly.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Is this a way to talk in a time of mourning?”

The nurse dropped her eyes. “I suppose not, but when Mistress Quibilah told me…”

Asenath groaned. “She told you!”

“Yes, ma’am. Why wouldn’t she? That is…”

My mother.

“Shhh!” Asenath commanded, looking warily at the slaves tending the nearby herb garden. Some had stopped working to listen to the conversation. “Sit by me and put Manasseh in my lap. Yes, like that.”

Though confused, Reziya obeyed orders.

Good, faithful Reziya.

She spoke in hushed tones. “I’m not even sure about this yet. And I haven’t told my husband or anybody else, for that matter. This is a solemn secret until I give you the word. Understand?”

Reziya nodded.

“This is very serious. If you tell anybody, I will… you will not be the godmother.”

The nurse gulped. “Yes, my lady.”

A breeze rustled Manasseh’s soft hair. “Let’s take a walk before it gets to the heat of the day.”

Asenath lay in bed, shivering, alone.

Her father was dead, her mother was spying on her, she was pregnant, Joseph had been too busy all day to even see her.

She tried to think of a story of Elohim that would help, but failed.

Elohim? Where are you?

A crack of light illuminated a strip of the room as Joseph entered. His face was drawn and tired, masked by shadows. After taking off his outer robe and wig, he fell into bed.

He’s had a long day too.

“How did it go?” she asked.

Joseph pulled her closer. “Not so good.”

“Why?”

“Your mother is a shrewd woman.”

My mother again.

“How so?”

“She tried to keep Amnon from getting any inheritance. I worked hard, but he will only get the horses.”

“That’s it? He was Potipherah’s first-born son!”

“Mmm. She seemed to think that since he didn’t live up to his potential, he doesn’t deserve much.”

Asenath rolled her eyes. “And since I married the vizier, I lived up to my potential.”

“Apparently.”

The cheat.

They laid in silence, studying the dark.

“Good-night, my love.”

“Good-night.”

Joseph easily drifted off to sleep.

Asenath lay awake reanalyzing everything in her mind.