The General's Wife (Ancient Egypt) Page 3

  “Thank you.” Ismene nodded, reaching to sample the grapes that lay before her on the plate. She was becoming much more comfortable now, but her guard was still up.

  They ate in silence. She chanced a glance at him to find that he was watching her rather intently. Somewhat unnerved, she turned away.

  Alistair let out a breath. “There is something of utmost importance I need to discuss with you.”

  She gulped audibly, her stomach turning, and she forced herself to face him again.

  “I wish that such a conversation could wait until we have had time to get to know one another better and feel more at ease around each other.” He appeared to be a bit nervous, but only allowed it to show for a few seconds before he faced her with a confidence she was beginning to identify as one of his more notable qualities.

  He cleared his throat. “I want to know that you agree to this marriage. As it was arranged by your family and myself, I do not wish anything to be forced upon you.”

  Of anything she had encountered thus far in this strange land so different from her own, this was the most foreign concept of all. Was he insane? Perhaps he had decided he did not want to marry her, but felt obligated to honor their arrangement and his last hope was that she would free him of his attachment to her. That must be it, she decided, dejected. That was the only thing that made sense to her.

  Lowering her eyes, she stared at the floor. “Are you not pleased with me?” Of course she would release him from his promise, but it would be humiliating for her family if she were to be sent back, an unwanted bride.

  He raised a hand toward her, but stopped short of touching her. “No, please don't think that. I have no reservations about this arrangement,” he said quickly. He paused, drawing his hand back and licking his lips as if trying to find the right words. Then he spoke again, “Ismene, I just meant that I had more say in this arrangement than you did. I understand that marriage matches are made by men back home. Things are so different here on that account. Egyptian women get to take part in the betrothal negotiations, and I see merit in that. I think it only fitting that you should have that opportunity with an arrangement that concerns your life and your future.”

  Ismene didn't know what to say. Of course she wanted to refuse the whole thing! She wanted to load herself and her things, leave this strange land behind, and return to her home that she loved so dearly, to her Thelopolis. Yet, the right choice seemed clear to her. This was the honorable thing to do. She had to push thoughts of home and Thelopolis from her mind if she were to do it.

  Allowing herself to look at him full on for the first time, she tried to exhibit all of the confidence she didn't feel. This was her fate and there was no escaping it. She was going to face it head-on. Now set on her decision, she held his eyes. One stray thought ran unbidden across her mind, I am so sorry, Thelopolis.

  “Yes, Alistair, I agree to this marriage. I would be honored to be your wife.”

  Then he looked at her in a way no one ever had and she couldn't quite decipher it. There was admiration in his eyes, even appreciation.

  Another smile spread across his face. Then his smile fell and he became more serious. “Then we shall begin the preparations.”

  Alistair got to his feet and took the open seat beside her, taking her hand in his.

  “There will not be much freedom for our own discretion in the ceremony, I'm afraid. “Ptolemy wishes us to have an Egyptian wedding. Our house, servants, and neighbors would be most honored by that. And considering my position with these people, it is best overall.” His eyes were affixed to her facial features, watching for her reaction.

  Confusion filled Ismene. The type of ceremony had never entered her realm of thought. It had not occurred to her that Egyptians married in a different way than her people did. What was the wedding ceremony like if their funerals included mummification? She caught her rampant thoughts and pushed them down so she could answer her soon-to-be husband. It didn't matter anyway.

  “Of course. I will comply with your wishes.”

  He smiled at her again. His smile was warm and already comfortable to her. She was beginning to like it.

  “We must begin arrangements for the engagement party. Egyptian customs dictate that the engagement be quite lengthy under normal circumstances; however, in our situation, it would be most advisable that we rush everything along. Ptolemy and his wife have requested that you stay in their home until the wedding to avoid any talk about you that would happen if we resided under the same roof before the wedding.”

  Her eyes widened. Move yet again? And to Pharaoh’s house?

  He must have misunderstood her reaction. “No, I don't want gossip questioning your virtue either. I'll have Neterka let it be known that the mahr has been sent to your father and has been accepted, and we shall set the date for the banquet. I will arrange for someone in Pharaoh’s house to receive you and to have someone appropriate prepared to educate you on the wedding customs.”

  “Mayer?” she asked, still stuck on that earlier part of his explanation. The rest was lost to her.

  “Mahr. It is a gift of money that is required before an engagement can be officially announced.”

  She nodded, almost thankful for something new and interesting to occupy her mind in the coming weeks.

  “That should be enough for now,” he said. By all appearances, he was glad to move past talk of the wedding. “Have you seen the house?”

  “Yes, it is lovely.” It was true. What she had seen of it had impressed her.

  “I am glad that you are pleased. Have you seen the gardens?”

  Her eyes widened as she shook her head. She had forgotten about the prospects of a garden.

  “I would love to show you,” he said, smiling.

  She noticed that he had a dimple on one side of his face when he smiled.

  “Shall we go while we send for some of your things to be packed?” He rose and offered his arm.

  She was getting to her feet when a servant knocked on the door. Alistair called for him to come as Ismene slipped a tentative hand onto the crook of his arm.

  It was Neterka who entered the room with haste, speaking in hushed tones to his master. He need not worry about his volume if he was going to speak in Egyptian. Alistair frowned and conversed with him for a moment. Ismene was beginning to hate not being able to understand everyone and became all the more determined to begin her language study.

  Neterka excused himself and Alistair moved toward her, placing a large, warm hand on hers. “Again I am apologizing. I regret to do so, but I must take my leave of you. There is something of great importance that I must attend to at once. Perhaps you and your handmaiden would enjoy the stroll through the gardens yourselves?”

  “Yes, that would be nice.” She was surprised at the twinge of disappointment that sprung up within her.

  He nodded. “Neterka will make sure you have a proper guide. If you need anything, just call.”

  She started to remove her hand from his so he could take his leave of her, but he slid his arm so her hand fell into his. He brought her hand to his face and kissed her wrist before he allowed her hand to drop.

  “Milady,” he said, as he bowed before turning and exiting the receiving room.

  Ismene stood rooted to the spot for several moments after he disappeared through the door. Her mind reran their conversation. What had transpired here today? She had agreed to marry him. So, she would be marrying a man she knew but for a few moments, yet already found herself admiring and respecting. Yes, this day was turning out to be every bit as interesting as she had expected but perhaps in a more positive light than she had thought. She found herself regretting that he had been pulled away by business. But things were not so bad, she decided. After all, there was a garden that awaited her. And the master of the house exhibited such pride in it. This made her all the more anxious to see it for herself.

  It was then she realized she was alone. No servant had shown up to escort her back to her room.
If only she'd been able to pay more attention on the walk here. Stepping into the inner courtyard, she tried to make her way back to her room as best she could. As she peered around pillars and made turns, her thoughts drifted back to her husband-to-be. Where was it that he'd had to run off to with such urgency? What had caused his mood to shift? Whatever it was, it had disturbed him. She could already see that he had great compassion for the people he was charged with protecting.

  After looking into several rooms, none of which were hers, she bumped into a maidservant. “Please,” she said, hoping against all hope that the girl spoke some Greek. “I need to get back to my room.”

  The girl looked at her confused, not understanding what she was saying at all.

  “My room,” Ismene said. She thought about how to communicate her request in a nonverbal way and moved her hands to make a pillow under her head and leaned over. “My bed. I need my bed.”

  The girl's face lit up in understanding. She indicated for Ismene to follow. They walked a couple of doors down and the girl stopped, motioning for Ismene to go in.

  Surely not. I wasn't that close, was I? She glanced through the door. It was her bedchamber. Smiling sheepishly at the maidservant who was beaming back at her before taking her leave, Ismene rushed into her room, quite embarrassed.

  * * *

  As Alistair entered Pharaoh's court, he didn't bother to stare at the beautiful gold statues, the ornate works of art, or any of its other exotic features. As was most always the case, he was deep in thought and more concerned with matters of state. Garai, one of Pharaoh's aides, stood in front of the doors which led into Pharaoh's primary receiving chambers, the place Alistair was always called to.

  “Pharaoh summons me,” Alistair declared, his impatience evident in his voice.

  “General Merenre, my liege awaits you.” This servant opened the grand doors, and stepped just inside the entrance way. As Alistair passed him and came into the chamber, the aide's voice boomed, “General Merenre!”

  Sometimes this was all too much pomp and circumstance. This wasn't a royal state dinner after all. He shrugged as he approached the Pharaoh.

  Alistair made a sweeping bow before Pharaoh. “I am summoned, my liege.”

  Pharaoh nodded and waved his hand, granting Alistair permission to rise.

  It did not escape Alistair's notice that Pharaoh's brother, Meleager, was also present. Meleager served as special counsel to Pharaoh. Ptolemy trusted him with many things, but thankfully not with the final call on military decisions. Prince Meleager had brought them a lot of information over the short time Alistair had commanded Pharaoh's armies. Some of it had turned out to be good information, some faulty. Alistair was never quite sure if the faulty information had been delivered on purpose or not. There was something inherent in the man that Alistair didn't quite trust.

  “General, I wish I didn't have to summon you, but there is growing discontent among the people. They worry that we are going to war with Syria,” Pharaoh spoke as Alistair stood.

  “That subject matter is secret. How can the people know of this?” Alistair asked.

  “It could only have become this widespread at such a rate by way of the mob. If that is the case, you must realize the issue we face.” There was tension in Pharaoh's voice as he uttered those words. “If something small like this could leak out, what other more dangerous information is at risk?”

  “It is obvious, General. We must find this connection to the mob,” Meleager said, serious concern on his face. “We cannot risk more sensitive information getting out. We must launch an investigation at once.”

  “That has already begun,” Pharaoh said. “The head of the secret police has been given much leeway to track down this traitor and bring him before me.”

  “Begging your pardon, my liege, but what do you ask of me?” Alistair was hesitant to ask that question, for fear of where the answer may lead.

  “Anyone who had access to the information that has been dispersed will be subject to investigation.”

  Alistair recoiled. “My liege, surely...surely you don't think I...” He took a step away from Pharaoh in shock.

  “No, no, no. Your allegiance to Egypt and to me has been proven many times over. What I fear is that someone in your household has mixed loyalties.”

  The general relaxed at these words, but soon stiffened again. “Everyone in my abode is true and honest. They have never served me ill.” Alistair was ready to defend his staff with strength and conviction.

  Pharaoh leaned in toward him. “I hope this remains the truth. As I have said, my chief investigator has been given broad leeway to track down this criminal. I suggest you give him everything he requires.”

  A crooked smile crossed Meleager's features as he glared down at Alistair. Sometimes these men were on the same side, sometimes at odds, and sometimes it almost seemed as if they were vying for Pharaoh's support. Theirs was indeed a strange relationship. In this case, he seemed to enjoy watching Alistair squirm a little. Meleager was a member of Pharaoh's house, and, while the palace was being investigated, Meleager would not have to be called out like this.

  With those words, it was clear that the audience with Pharaoh was over. He stepped back and lifted his staff back to its traditional pose, indicating no more words would be spoken. Alistair bowed before Pharaoh and retreated back to the entrance, leaving the room in the traditional way, without turning his back on his master.

  Alistair could never have predicted this meeting with Pharaoh. It wasn't a meeting to discuss war policy, but to indicate that Alistair better not get in the way of Pharaoh's investigator. As he walked out to his horse, he grunted at the thought of having to deal with a member of the secret police in his own home. Someone of the high court, turning everything upside down in pursuit of some fool? Bah! They never did work with any politeness or grace. Instead, speed and harsh results were the probable outcome.

  * * *

  Ismene didn't have to wait long before there was yet another knock on the door. This time she was prepared to see Neterka when Alonah let him in.

  “The general says you wish to see the gardens?”

  “Yes! So much!”

  “And I have heard that I should perhaps help you familiarize yourself with the house.”

  Ismene felt her face heat. The sweet little maidservant had snitched on her! No matter, it was true she needed a more thorough tour of the grounds than what she was getting as she was shuffled from place to place.

  “I apologize that I did not see to that sooner, milady,” he said, turning away from her as if prepared for a reprimand.

  “It is all right. I'm just glad that we'll be taking care of it now,” she said, smiling. “I would like for my handmaiden to accompany us, if she may.”

  “Of course. Shall we begin?”

  The house was laid out exactly as she had suspected. An inner courtyard was at the center of the house and all of the rooms came off of it. There were the master bedchambers, her bedchambers, the sitting room, the bathroom, where Neterka noted that Alistair had a Grecian tub put in, causing her to wonder how Egyptians bathed, and a “Grecian,” again as Neterka put it, dining room. All of the rooms were decorated with similar style and taste as Alistair's outer bedchambers—Egyptian décor with touches of Greek influence. Indeed, it was growing on her. The color and artwork were fascinating. She could spend hours just examining the paintings inside the house.

  Next, they toured the outer structures. A small private chapel stood outside the main house. Did Alistair worship Greek gods or Egyptian gods? Not that either mattered to her, she would comply with whatever his wishes were for her. She had long since stopped believing in any of those sorts of mystical things.

  They were now on the west side of the home. Through the small opening in the yard, she saw the granaries where servants were hard at work checking and filling small silos. The gardens at the south end of the home extended along the entire width of the great wall which made up the living quarte
rs. This green space separated the main house from another long structure that ran along the entire south side of the great wall. Ismene assumed that this structure held the stables, servants' quarters, and the kitchen.

  Traveling through the amazing gardens, Ismene saw clusters of Egyptian lotus, immortelle, lychnis, jasmine, and narcissus bulbs filling the western side of the gardens with color and beauty. As her eyes continued to scan over to the eastern side, she found blossoms of chrysanthemum, cornflower, red poppy, arum, iris, and crinum. It was breathtaking. The garden couldn't have been better arranged if she had planned it out herself. Some of these were flowers she'd had the privilege to see, touch, and smell. Some she had only seen or heard about in books. A covered patio sat off the back of the house. It would provide a nice, cool place to gaze over the gardens in the heat of the day, should she so choose. Another pool was featured in the center of the gardens.

  Ismene longed to spend more time in the gardens, and assured herself that she would once the tour was over. Coming around the back of the house, through the gardens to the east side of the house, they came first to the cattle yard, which was walled in. Beyond that was the well which supplied water to the house.

  In truth, it was a grand estate, and she couldn't fathom that she would become the mistress of all she had seen. How did one look after such a house? But in a matter of days, this would be her home. The irony was that her mother would have longed to care for such a large property and boast of being its mistress. Ismene cared nothing for the status, and found the prospect of taking on all of this quite intimidating. And so her mother would forever be bound to her townhouse in Greece, while Ismene was here in this expansive abode.

  Returning to her bedchambers, she found maidservants packing the things she would need during her stay at Pharoah's palace. If this was the home of a general, she could only imagine what the palace of the pharaoh looked like. She was quite relieved that Alonah would be going with her to yet another strange place with strange people. Alonah was becoming not only a familiar face, but a sense of stability amidst all of these changes.