The General's Wife (Ancient Egypt) Read online

  He knew he would be waiting for a few moments, so he wandered over to the far end of the room. This was his favorite vantage point from which to gaze out over the grounds. From this particular position, he would have been able to look into the inner bedchambers as well, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the curtains fall over the open doorway, blocking his view and discouraging his reentry.

  Was this what marriage was to bring for him? Would he always have this need for something more he couldn't name? How he wished Ismene would talk to him. Maybe she would. Perhaps she just needed time. Last night was new for her in every way. No matter what she was feeling this morning, it was all novel to her. He must give her time to process it for herself before he started expecting her to be ready to share it with him...if she ever would.

  * * *

  Ismene was relieved when Alonah entered the bedchambers with her clothing. She had been sitting on the bed, sheets drawn tightly around herself, afraid that Alistair would come back in expecting...what? What did she think he would expect? A repeat performance? A heart-to-heart? For her to get out? She wasn't sure, but she did know she wanted him to just stay away while she gathered her thoughts. Everything was too topsy-turvy in her heart and in her stomach to be able to converse about anything—even the weather—much less about what happened last night. So what was she going to say to Alonah?

  “Please drop the drape,” she requested in a quiet voice. The last thing she wanted was Alistair looking in or, heaven forbid, walking in while she was dressing. Again, she was mystified at her odd modesty despite the happenings of the night before.

  Alonah, for her part, did as she was told and then came over to her mistress to assist her in dressing. Ismene, deep in her twisting thoughts, allowed herself to be helped. Alonah tried to go about the business of dressing her mistress as quietly as possible, but Ismene wanted for her to ask something, anything, so that she could avoid the issue. Her handmaiden did not, and so Ismene was left to her own thoughts.

  The chilled feeling that had come over her when Alistair's body moved away from hers was at long last subsiding as she dressed. For that, she was thankful. It had not mattered how she gathered the sheet around her, the chill had remained and it, too, confused her. Just one more thing she would need time and space to work through.

  “Milady, are you well?” Alonah did ask at last, looking Ismene in the eyes for the first time.

  Ismene's nod was slow. “Yes, I am fine.”

  * * *

  Alonah, still unmarried, did not know what else to say or how else to proceed. She had heard plenty of talk about these things around the servants' quarters, but none seemed like they would be the least bit helpful. Or appropriate. So she remained silent as she continued preparing Ismene.

  The silence allowed Alonah's thoughts to drift to the evening before. During the wedding celebration, Jabari had sought her out once again. They had danced together in the crowd of well-wishers. Afterward, they had talked. He seemed to want to know everything about her. She blushed a little even then at the feelings that stirred in her to be pursued by such a handsome man. It was amazing that in one short evening she felt she had come to know him so well. And the more she knew him, the more she liked him.

  Jabari was kind, considerate, gentle, and understanding. The man had listened to such boring tales of her childhood with rapt attention. He seemed to have a genuine interest in getting to know her. They had lingered perhaps a little longer than they should have. She was quite tired this morning, but she didn't regret a minute of it. Still, she did find it hard not to sing or at least hum as she went about her work.

  “Ow!” Ismene gritted her teeth as Alonah's brush found a nasty tangle in her hair.

  That snapped Alonah from her daydreams. “I'm sorry, milady.”

  “It's all right,” Ismene assured her handmaiden.

  “Your hair is in such a state today.”

  “Well, we didn't have a chance to take it down last night...” Ismene's voice trailed off.

  Alonah worked the tangle out with more care and pulled the hair back, pinning it into place.

  “Shall I go for your face paint?” Alonah asked, already gathering the brush and discarded toga from the night before.

  “That will not be necessary for now. We'll leave that until I'm back in my own bedchambers.”

  Their regiment was complete. Alonah stood back, waiting for Ismene to take the steps necessary to get her to the outer bedchambers where Alistair awaited her. Ismene lingered for a few moments, seeming somewhat reluctant.

  “Are you quite sure you are well, milady?” Alonah asked, brows furrowed.

  Ismene sighed. “Yes, Alonah, I'm quite all right. Just a little tired.”

  Only then did Ismene stand and make her way into the outer chambers.

  * * *

  There was a knock at the door and Alistair admitted Neterka with a word. Neterka was but the first in a line of servants bearing bowls with fresh fruits, cheeses, and breads for them. Alistair glanced in the direction of his inner bedchambers in time to see the curtain move. It lifted and his bride made her appearance. She was dressed in one of her simpler togas, one that was quite commonly seen on the streets of Greece. His bedchambers did not afford Alonah the utensils to apply face paint and not much for hair, so the handmaiden had pulled back her mistress's hair with a simple headband and swept back the longer side pieces. Even without fine ornamentation or face paint, Ismene took his breath away. He had to get a hold of himself!

  He attempted to speak, but found it difficult. “Please,” he managed after what he felt was an embarrassing pause. “Sit and eat.”

  Ismene nodded and took a seat while a servant girl prepared a plate of fruit and another offered her some bread. She accepted both, thanking them. As she began to eat, she was soon almost shoveling the food into her mouth.

  Alistair was a little surprised and somewhat amused by Ismene's hunger.

  She peeked up and caught him watching her. “I didn't eat much at the banquet last night,” she explained, blushing.

  “Why not, milady?”

  She offered him a shy look before she was able to manage, “I was...um...too...nervous...to eat.”

  Smiling as the redness in her face deepened, he found himself a little embarrassed for her and a bit tickled at her innocence.

  She shared his smile.

  They continued to eat in silence, but more of a comfortable silence. Both wanted to speak, but each wanted the other to start, so neither spoke. They each caught the other stealing glances, which caused an exchange of smiles again before their attention would inevitably return to their plates and meals. The servants in the room exchanged knowing glances and smiles in the midst of their master and mistress's lack of conversation.

  As the meal drew to a close, Ismene set her plate down, signaling the completion of her breakfast. Alistair finished his last morsel of bread and placed his plate next to him as well. Their plates were then picked up by the ever-present maidservants.

  It was, at last, Ismene who spoke up. “I believe I should be getting back to my bedchambers to prepare for the day.”

  “I think you look quite lovely,” Alistair interjected.

  She stared at him, a little wide-eyed at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you, Alistair. I meant that I needed to ready myself for the female neighbors who are to come today.”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” He felt his face warm a little. But why should he be embarrassed for paying his wife a compliment? He didn't like that things were so tense, so...so...he couldn't even find the word. Of course she meant the anticipated visitation from the neighbors. And she was right, they would expect her to look the part.

  Ismene was beautiful to him either way, but he understood that she had certain restrictions and requirements placed on her that he could only begin to understand. Perhaps today would not be a total loss. He hoped she might make a good friend from among their neighbors.

  “I hope you get some great gifts,
” he said, standing. “I should ready myself to head out to the palace.”

  She nodded, standing as well. “Of course. I shall see you when you return, then.”

  He nodded.

  Turning, she slipped out of the room, Alonah close behind her. Then they were off and down the hall toward her bedchambers.

  Alistair was a bit disappointed at the abrupt end to the morning. What had he hoped for? A good-bye kiss? Promises of another evening together? Sweet nothings whispered in his ear? Chiding himself for his daydreams and expectations, he moved back toward his inner bedchambers to prepare for the day. He must get some space and explore his thoughts.

  * * *

  Sefu pondered the recent actions at the general's house and the response. In the midst of his thoughts, he found himself reviewing his choice of Nassor as his proxy. He found himself doing that a lot more of late. The man was hesitant, needing reassurance every step of the way. Sometimes that was good, but other times it was irritating. Nassor wouldn't act without direction. That was one of key reasons he had picked him. And Nassor was reliable in carrying out orders, and loyal to the end.

  Nassor's second-guessing was becoming a problem. Was it an issue of conscience for the man? No, Sefu decided, it was Nassor's conscience that drove him to follow Sefu, knowing that this was ultimately for Egypt. Remembering that as the wellspring of Nassor's loyalty, Sefu concluded, as he had many times before, that he would just have to put up with all the extra handling this required.

  * * *

  The last visiting neighbor had left and Ismene was spent. She remembered that her mother would entertain guests for hours on end, sometimes for the whole day, and never utter one word of complaint. Such was the life of a wife in Greek society and even more so as a woman of her mother's station. In Ismene's homeland, women did not leave their houses except to go to weddings, funerals, and special festivals. Her mother had some leeway in that she was also invited to various political dinner parties with her husband. For most Greek women, visiting their female neighbors was the only escape from their homes.

  This was something to be grateful for in her transplant to Egypt. As she had come to understand, it was socially acceptable for women to venture out on a regular basis and they had no limitations of where they could journey day to day. In practice, though, women of her station kept to their homes much like the women of Greek society, only leaving their homes to visit their neighbors on the average day.

  Ismene had received many nice gifts. The people who had visited her today had been generous and she found, once again, that everyone adored Alistair. He was a hero in their eyes and so they all wanted to be her best friend. They made over her like she was a precious gem. It was a lot for her to take in. Most women would have quite enjoyed all of that attention, but Ismene did not. She tolerated it because it was her place. And she got the feeling that she would be seeing a lot more of it in the future.

  Alonah was already putting away some of the gifts, finding places in Ismene's bedchambers, stopping here and there to ask Ismene's advice on the placement of this or that. She had been all smiles and politeness today. A couple of the women, the more wealthy ones, had not been nice to her. They had treated her as if she were nothing more than a common slave, but Alonah had not bent under their rudeness.

  “Don't worry so much about it, Alonah, it can wait. I want for you to rest yourself.”

  “Milady, that is not necessary, I assure you. These are prized possessions, indeed. I must find places for them.”

  “Yes, yes...regardless, I'm ordering you to take a break,” Ismene said, smiling at her handmaiden-become-friend.

  Alonah met her smile.

  Ismene sank into the chair-pillows in one corner and Alonah gave her a mischievous look.

  “What's going on in that mind of yours?” Ismene asked.

  “Just a minute.” Alonah went to her own bed and pulled out a small board from her clothes chest. It had several holes in it. Alonah also lifted out a small basket. She brought her things over to where Ismene sat and put them down.

  Ismene reached into the basket and pulled out one of the small, beautifully carved pieces of wood. It was a jackal’s head on a small stick. In the box there were more pieces identical to the one she held and pieces with a dog's head on a stick.

  “What in Mount Olympus is this?”

  “A board game!”

  “A what?”

  “A servant girl, Safiya, taught me how to play. It's so much fun! Would you like to learn?”

  She watched Alonah's eager face for a minute, gauging her response against her apprehension. Despite how tired she was, she decided to concede. “Sure.”

  “These jackal pieces are yours and the hounds are mine. The object of the game is...” Alonah's voice droned on in explanation.

  Ismene half listened as she just enjoyed the moment's peace with no pressure on her to present herself to neighbors or sort through the myriad of emotions surrounding Alistair and his presence. She just let all of that go and shifted her focus to the game Alonah was introducing her to. I'm going to enjoy this pastime.

  Six

  Uncertainty

  It had been one week since their wedding day. That was the last time they had been in each other’s presence for any significant amount of time. Since then, they had become nothing more than housemates, seeing each other at meals and passing each other on occasion during the day. This disturbed Alistair. Strange, since when he had first made this arrangement, this is precisely what he had hoped for. But this arrangement no longer suited him. He wanted more from their relationship. He wanted a relationship. He wanted what they had started developing to go somewhere. But they were both so unsure of themselves, and he had been too timid that morning after their wedding night.

  There were so many things he should have said, things he wished he had done that could have changed the course that their relationship had taken. Now, they had gotten into this way of life. She went about her day and he went about his. How was he to change that? Would an opportunity present itself? Could he seize it? Would he need to make this opportunity happen? Or could it just be a simple conversation?

  Alistair wanted so much more, needed so much more. He shook his head. It was no matter. It would be what it would be. There was no sense in worrying himself over it. Certainly not when he was supposed to be directing troop exercises and maneuvers. He shifted his attention back to the men clashing swords in front of him.

  “Jabari is always on offense,” he spoke to the man's captain. “Which I like, but he leaves himself open for attack from many angles. See to it that he gets a review of some defensive maneuvers.”

  The captain nodded.

  “Bomani will be a strong soldier.” Alistair noticed the young man who was not yet part of the legion, but rather in training on the sidelines. “Captain Ptah, I think it is time you take him on as part of your unit and see to his proper induction.”

  Ptah nodded. “I have been watching him myself for some time, General. I know he will make you proud.”

  The rest of the afternoon passed in similar fashion, with Alistair commenting here and there as the soldiers went through their routines. He was well pleased with his unit. They were strong, fit, well trained, and loyal. What more could a leader ask for? As the day wore on, it would become time for them to end the exercises and bring the men together. This was one of the parts of Alistair's day he enjoyed. While the men took their nourishment and water, he would walk among them and compliment them on what he observed that day, conversing with them about their families as he came to know them better. He enjoyed knowing his men well.

  After a short time like this, Alistair would speak to the whole group and then release them to return home. He would then have a brief meeting with his captains before dismissing them as well. Alistair had come to look forward to returning to his own home to dine with Ismene. It wasn't much, but he relished every minute he could have with her.

  Frowning, Alistair realized he
had done it again. He had daydreamed his way to the end of the day. They were but halfway through midday exercises and he had already imagined his way to the end and to home. He chided himself to keep his mind on his work. There was a good chance that Pharaoh and Meleager would come to see the troops in action this afternoon.

  It was common for Pharaoh to come to see them at least once a week, and Meleager tagged along, ever ready with his opinions. Alistair had spoken with Pharaoh about these helpful tips that were quite unwelcome. Ptolemy only asked Alistair to humor his brother. Meleager had always dreamed of being a military man, but had not the makings of a commander. So sometimes Alistair would pretend to make note of Meleager's suggestions, other times he would ignore him altogether, but he was always annoyed.

  It was all the more reason for Alistair to concentrate on what his men were doing. If Pharaoh came, it would take up part of their regular training time. Alistair took a deep breath and attempted to clear his mind of all traces of Ismene. Then, turning his attention back to his men, he began to walk the line again. But it wasn't long before he was reminiscing...

  * * *

  Ismene and Alonah wandered about the marketplace, checking out the local fare. It had become a custom of theirs to visit this market weekly. Ismene liked to pick up something for herself—a pashmina, a necklace, something—each time they came. She had not found anything that struck her fancy today, so she decided to pick out some fruits she had not yet had the good fortune to try at Alistair's home. Her basket boasted a variety of strange-looking, multicolored, oddly shaped objects that the vendors claimed were edible. Alonah kept pointing to this and that, adding something here and there, but Ismene didn't mind. At least Alonah was enjoying this trip.