Chapter 10
Rae
Rae’s arm muscles trembled under the heavy burden, threatening to give out. Clouds of hot steam buffeted her face, and a clamor of angry voices assaulted her ears. For the love of Ra, she thought, put me out of my misery.
“More?” she asked as the palace cook ladled soup into a bowl and set it on the already crowded breakfast tray Rae carried.
The shiny-faced cook glared at her. “You are here to work, not to speak,” she said. “You’re lucky I’m trusting you to serve the pharaoh’s favorite. At first I was sure you’d either drop it all or steal it. Now, stay right there. A bit of melon and mint salad should do it…”
She shuffled away, pushing past the bakers toiling at the mouths of clay ovens and cooks stirring fragrant, steaming pots nestled in embers. It was hot and loud and chaotic, but even Rae had to admit the royal kitchens boasted a truly mouthwatering smell.
Not that she’d gotten to enjoy much of the food herself.
Rae grunted, shifting her grip on the tray. It’s criminal how much these High Khetarans eat. This one meal could feed an entire Sakeshi family for a whole day. She studied the bowl of soup. It was thick and green, and gave off a bitter, but not unpleasant, aroma.
“What is this?” she asked.
The cook returned with the fruit and set it on the tray. “Didn’t I just tell you to stop asking questions? Your mind is like an empty room, girl!”
Then the cook sighed in resignation. “The soup is made with jute mallow leaves, garlic, and coriander. Very tasty, very healthy food. The little seer has taken a liking to it, so she gets a bowl every morning. Happy now?”
“Delighted. Can I go?”
The cook pointed a finger at her and said, “Spill a drop of it and I’ll have your hide. I don’t care how big you are.”
Muttering a litany of curses under her breath, Rae shuffled out of the kitchen into the open corridor leading to the palace proper. She paused, letting the fresh cross breeze dry the perspiration on her brow. Her muscles relaxed a bit, though she still didn’t feel at ease.
As soon as she, Tamerit, and the other new arrivals had been brought into the palace, she’d been ushered into a bathing chamber with the other women, ordered to strip, and then instructed to wash herself until the head attendants were satisfied.
After she’d nearly scrubbed her body raw, she’d been fitted with a long white kalasiris made of linen so fine that even Tam was impressed.
Soft as it was, it drove Rae to distraction, as it was so tight that she was forced to take mincing steps everywhere she went.
The kingdom for a tunic! she thought. She could hardly walk in the dress, no less run, fight, or any other useful activity.
Not that she expected to be doing those things anytime soon.
It hadn’t taken long for Rae to recognize she wasn’t cut out for the life of a spy.
She was accustomed to danger. She’d faced it back in Sakesh, time and time again. Sought it out, even. But that danger was straightforward—it was fists in an alleyway, a whip at her back, arrows in the night.
The risks of the king’s palace? Those were different.
There was no fighting, no violence, no pain—aside from the frustration of dealing with the royal cook. And yet, danger was everywhere. Hidden in every glance, every word, every decision she made.
It was awful. She’d take a fistfight over courtly intrigue any day.
While she paused to catch her breath, two maidservants exited the kitchen carrying their own breakfast trays. One looked to be about Rae’s age, the other slightly older. Rae followed at a short distance behind him, hoping to catch a bit of their conversation.
“Still no word of Femi?” the older one asked.
The younger maidservant sighed. “No. His wasn’t among the bodies taken across the river to be interred with King Amunmose.
So, I have to believe he still lives. I have a theory he’s being kept down in a subterranean chamber.
One of the cooks told me that in addition to the gruel for the rebels, the pharaoh’s head guard told her to make up a tray of bread and beer. I think that food is for Femi.”
“What makes you say that? Why would the king keep Femi prisoner?”
The young woman’s expression darkened. “Because of her. Sitamun.”
Rae had been so spellbound by the conversation that she’d almost let the jute leaf soup spill into the fruit salad. She steadied the tray and continued.
“The princess?”
“Femi was bedding her before she disappeared. The king must think he knows where to find her.”
The princess is missing? Rae filed the information for later use. I wonder where she got off to?
The older maidservant looked both scandalized and delighted. “Femi and the princess? Together? Are you certain?”
Scowling, the younger woman said, “I’m certain.
Before Sitamun took him into her bed, he’d been in mine.
Something happened the day of the Bast Festival.
We’d met in the pleasure garden that afternoon and all was fine, and then…
then it was over, and the only star in his sky was Sitamun.
” She paused. “I still care for him, though. I still want to know if he’s all right. ”
“Of course you do,” the older woman said sympathetically. “Amun willing, you will see him again.” Then they turned down a corridor toward the ladies’ chambers.
Rae stopped tailing them, having learned exactly what she needed to know.
Gruel for the rebels, she thought. So they’re keeping the prisoners underground. That’s where I’ll find Father!
Rae cast an eye over the green soup. She’d managed not to spill any, but it was getting cold. She’d better hurry.
Her mind whirling with plans, she made her way to the young seer’s room.
***
Nefermaat was sitting at a low table surrounded by piles of papyri when Rae arrived.
“Oh good, you’re here,” the girl said with a smile, then pushed some of the scrolls aside to make way for her breakfast.
Rae blinked. Nefermaat looked very different than she had that first day in the courtyard. She was wearing a simple white shift—not unlike Rae’s own—and no jewelry except for the Bast collar she’d worn before. Her face was free of makeup, and shockingly, she was bald.
So, it was a wig.
Stripped of all her finery, Nefermaat looked to be barely more than a child.
Rae let her guard down, just a little.
A golden cat with black stripes rose from her spot in a sunbeam and padded over, clearly interested in sharing the girl’s meal.
Nefermaat chuckled as the cat snagged a chunk of cheese from the tray.
“I should ask Cook to bring you your own plate,” she said with obvious affection.
Primly, the cat carried her spoils back to the sunbeam to eat.
Nefermaat glanced at Rae. “How about you? Have you eaten yet? I’m happy to share my breakfast, if you’d like to sit. ”
The girl’s guileless expression was enough to melt the stoniest of hearts.
Still, Rae was no fool.
There’s more to this Nefermaat than what she seems, she thought. A young girl didn’t get to be both a priestess and the pharaoh’s favorite by being a simpleton. She is close to Meryamun, so it would behoove me to get close to her too. Who knows what she might tell me, if she let her own guard down?
Rae bowed her head in reply to the invitation. “Thank you, Priestess. I would like that.”
“Call me Neff,” the girl said, and gestured to the cushion across the table.
Rae sat, feeling unusually nervous as she watched the girl pile bread and cheese, fruit, and a slice of some kind of egg dish onto a plate and hand it to her. Once Neff started in on her soup, Rae began to eat.
As expected, it was the best meal she’d ever eaten. The egg dish, cooked with an abundance of onion and parsley, was particularly good. Rae nearly asked for seconds but reconsidered and stayed quiet. As if reading her mind, the girl cut another piece and slid it onto Rae’s plate.
“So, Ahura,” Neff said casually. “Tell me a little about yourself. You’re not from Thonis, are you?”
Rae froze, a chunk of bread lifted halfway to her mouth. She was starting to regret using her mother’s name as her alias, and she hadn’t bothered to come up with a backstory for the person she was pretending to be. Hadn’t Tam recommended she do that?
She shoved the food in her mouth, using the time she spent chewing to come up with an answer.
“I’m from Bubas, actually,” she said. It’s the nearest High Khetaran town, she reasoned.
Besides, I bet this highborn girl rarely sets foot outside the palace, so she probably doesn’t know much about the villages anyway.
“Bubas, you say?” the girl replied with interest. “Is that where your father lives? When we met, you said you needed this job to help him.”
Rae nodded, hesitant to elaborate. She sensed that this girl was clever enough to ensnare her if her web of lies became too tangled. Instead, Rae said something that was undeniably true. “I love my father. I would do anything for him.”
The girl regarded her with dark, bottomless eyes. “I feel the same about mine.” She dipped a piece of bread in her soup and ate it. “What about your mother? Does she need help too?”
Rae’s eyes dropped to her empty plate. “My mother is dead. She died when I was very young.”
“I’m so sorry,” Neff said softly.
She means it, Rae thought, taking in the seer’s solemn face. Who is this girl? She wasn’t at all what Rae expected from the villainous, bloodthirsty king’s closest confidant.
Neff reached for her cup of beer. “You know, Ahura is my mother’s name.”
Rae suddenly went cold. “It is?”
“I haven’t been able to see her since I came to the palace,” Neff went on.
“Every night when I go to sleep, I wish she was here with me, telling me not to forget to wear my sandals and to look out for scorpions. When you told me your name in the courtyard, I knew you were sent for a reason. I knew that the gods had given me a sign we were meant to be together.”