Chapter Six #2
I pulled on the dress I had retrieved. The cloth was a little threadbare but functional.
The pockets, however, were lined with sheep’s leather, thick enough to protect the jars I carried there.
I removed my sandals and walked barefoot towards a plinth that stood against the northern wall of the room.
Charmion’s task had distracted my guards and maids, so my bedchamber was empty. Satisfied I was alone, I pushed the stonework away from the wall.
It should have been a job for many more arms than mine, but the plinth was deceptively hollow, and as it came away from the wall it revealed a narrow set of steps. The air smelled of sea salt and wet earth.
Charmion and I were the only two alive who knew of the tunnel that led to my room.
It had once been used to access the cistern that held water beneath the palace.
But following an earthquake half a century earlier, some of the tunnels had collapsed, and some were forgotten completely—like the one that led to my chambers.
I walked the length of it without a torch, feeling my way through the darkness until I reached a section where the walls grew tight around me.
Then, using my bare feet to feel the pathway, I ducked and crawled until I felt the familiar surface of the stone I was looking for.
With a push, it moved and I was able to climb through a small hole.
The air grew sweeter and cooler as I entered the cistern.
Through small openings in the ceiling, the moon cast a dappled silver light on the water’s surface.
The holes, used to feed the cistern with rainwater, were set into the gardens above me.
Irrigation tunnels snaked away from the pool, feeding the palace water system. I caught my reflection in the water—the image of a plain commoner, not a pharaoh.
I smiled at myself, relishing the freedom of my guise, before ducking down another tunnel that had collapsed years before.
I moved through it like it was a puzzle, shifting and replacing the pieces of rock and stone that I knew would grant me freedom.
Eventually the walls opened out to a stairway.
I ascended into a small cave of ruins where an old part of the palace had been lost to the sea.
The tide was out; if it had not been, the cave would have been flooded and I’d have had to wait before crossing the shore towards the harbour.
The clandestine adventure had my heart racing in my throat. I had worn white to disguise myself in the twilight. If anyone caught sight of me from the palace, they would not have seen a pharaoh, but a slip of linen in the wind, hard to distinguish against the bleached shore.
Sand turned to wood beneath my feet as I crossed to Antirhodos’s small harbour and walked down the pier. I was yet to be spotted. But as I boarded the small rowing boat used to cross the bay, I heard a voice behind me.
“Who dares trespass on the Pharaoh’s property?”
I looked up. The figure was outlined by the full moon, his shape familiar. “Peace, Ahmose, it is only me.”
He inhaled sharply, realising his mistake. “My queen, I apologise, I did not recognise you.”
“That was my intention,” I said dryly.
“Are you journeying to the mainland? I can call for your escort—”
“No, I wish to go alone.”
“Alone, Pharaoh?”
Unbeknownst to him, this was not the first time I had slipped away from Antirhodos. Usually Charmion went with me, but today I needed her to remain in the palace; there was too much to be done.
“Forgive my impudence, my queen, but I do not think it wise to travel unaccompanied.”
I sat down in the boat and reached for the oars. “I have never been wise.”
“Pharaoh…” Ahmose sounded pained, and I felt a little sorry for him.
“Come if you must, but I would appreciate your discretion.”
He hesitated.
“What is it?” I prompted, my patience waning.
“Will you permit me to tell Charmion? It’s just that she’s given each of us a long list to carry out before the morn, in preparation for the journey to Hermonthis.”
I laughed. Of course he was more fearful of Charmion than of me.
“Yes, Charmion will know of my endeavour tonight. And I’ll be sure to mention you accompanied me.”
He nodded before joining me on the boat. I handed him the oars and together we set off across the short distance to the mainland.
Once we had docked the boat, I said, “Stay a few paces behind me. I do not wish to draw attention to myself.”
Ahmose frowned but did as he was bidden, duly following me as I weaved through the streets.
Alexandria was a city that never slumbered. The night markets chimed with the sound of coins changing hands. The bakeries had already begun their preparations for the morning and the air was filled with the scent of warm bread.
I thought of Sōter, and how he had walked the length of the Nile, learning all he could of the people he was to rule.
“It must have been wondrous.” I spoke my musings out loud.
“What was, Pharaoh?” Ahmose said behind me.
I didn’t respond at first; I was caught up in the rare joy of seeing the sights of Alexandria without the cover of a litter, or the footfalls of a dozen guards at my back.
“Sōter—his journeying across Egypt must have been an enriching experience,” I eventually replied. Then I added, more to myself, “I long for it.”
I slowed as I moved through the heart of my city, savouring each step. My meandering took me to the poorer districts to the south. No longer could I smell fresh bread and the sea breeze; instead, the odour of stagnant water from the swamps of the Nile Delta filled my nostrils.
I stopped outside one of the mud-brick homes that lined the street.
Ahmose whispered behind me, “My queen, I don’t think you should—”
“Stay here,” I ordered.
I dipped under the door arch of the homestead, ignoring his protestations.
The room was dim, lit by a single torch to save fuel. A woman moved into the flickering light. “Are you the healer?”
I nodded. “I am Selene, Archibios sent me.”
The librarian was often petitioned to attend to the sick. It had been my idea to take on some of his charges covertly as the healer “Selene.” I could no longer safely walk the streets as Pharaoh.
Though Archibios had been reluctant to be complicit in the ruse, I was his pharaoh and my word was the gods’.
“Who is it, Nilah?” Another person spoke from the bowels of the homestead. It was followed by a wet cough.
“May I?” I asked Nilah.
“Please, come, I do not think he has long.”
I strode into the darkness from where the man’s voice had called out.
The home wasn’t large, smaller than some of my antechambers, but it was tightly packed with their belongings.
A table covered in a half-woven rug filled the centre of the room, and spools of dyed thread littered the floor.
I picked my way through piles of linen until I came to a stop by the straw mattress in the corner.
My eyes adjusted to the low light and I took in my patient. He was perhaps forty-five years old, with wiry hair streaked grey. His skin was glazed with sweat, and his dark eyes were sunk deep into his skull. They were fluttering closed.
“What is his name?” I asked Nilah.
“Apollodorus.”
“Apollodorus, my name is Selene, and I am here to help,” I said calmly but firmly. Apollodorus’s lips opened as if to reply, before closing again, along with his eyes.
Nilah whimpered beside me.
I pulled back the collar of his shirt and pressed the back of my hand to his chest. “He has a fever,” I murmured. “How long has he been like this?”
She shook her head, unsure.
“I’ll need to make a poultice.” I reached into my pocket and removed a tincture of brewed willow bark. “May I use a scrap of your linen?”
“Yes. The material is useless unless he recovers anyway.” Nilah tore a slip of material from a sheet and handed it to me.
I set to work lacing it with the potion, before pressing it to his forehead.
“He is a weaver?” I asked.
“Yes, carpets and clothing. The finest in all of Alexandria.” Nilah’s chest swelled with pride before her gaze landed on her husband once more and she collapsed inwards.
“They do look very fine,” I said gently.
I looked back to my patient. I could feel the heat of his skin through the linen. The poultice would not be enough.
I reached for the chain around my neck and removed the dagger from its leather sheath.
“Are you going to purge his blood?” Nilah asked hopefully.
“No.” I was yet to be convinced that bloodletting, though favoured by the priests, had any significant impact on the health of the body. I reached into my pocket and removed a few wormwood leaves, using the dagger to slice them into smaller strips.
“I’m going to place these on his tongue. You will need to watch him to make sure he does not choke.” I prised open Apollodorus’s mouth and inserted a few strips of the leaf, before handing the rest to Nilah. “Replace the leaves when the sun rises.”
Nilah’s fingers closed around the leaves as if they were as precious as gold. “Will he survive?”
“I believe he will. As soon as he wakes, ensure he drinks and eats when he is able.”
Nilah’s eyes flooded with tears. “Thank you.”
Her gratitude warmed me and I felt my own eyes heat.
If I was not Pharaoh, I would not have to skulk in the darkness to practise my craft. I could spend my days healing Egypt. My thoughts were bitter, for I knew I was destined to heal Egypt in other ways.
I must have scowled, for Nilah’s smile slipped in concern.
“I will leave you now,” I said hurriedly.
As I turned to go, Apollodorus roused a little. He spat the leaves from his mouth. Before I could place them back on his tongue, his wide eyes met mine.
“It is you,” he said, awe making his voice quake. “The Queen is in my home.”
I laughed to cover the apprehension that had robbed me of breath. “No, friend, I am Selene, a healer sent to tend to you.”
“No, I know you.”
Nilah patted him on the arm. “My dear, you are feverish.”
Apollodorus’s bloodshot eyes bored into mine, stripping away my deception. “I was there at your coronation, I sent rugs to the palace…” His mouth frothed from the sap of the wormwood and he began to cough.
I moved to support his back. “Help me raise him up.”
Together we brought him up to sitting, padding the straw beneath his lower back so he remained upright. By the time we were done he had fallen asleep once more—to my relief.
I clasped my trembling hands behind my back. “I must go—I have many other patients to visit this night.”
Nilah reached into her pocket and removed a single drachma. She held the coin out to me and I was confronted with an engraving of my own face. I dipped my head so she would not notice the resemblance.
“No, I do not need your coin, Nilah.” I made my way outside quickly. The air there, though fetid from the delta, was refreshing compared to the thickness of the humidity inside the homestead.
Nilah followed me, and Ahmose immediately moved out of the shadows in defence. I held out a hand to warn him not to intercede.
“Please, there must be something I can do,” Nilah called out.
I turned to her. “Pray to our great mother, Isis. That is all I ask of you.”
She looked thoughtful for a moment, her gaze shifting from mine to Ahmose’s, lingering on the uniform he wore.
I cursed inwardly, waiting for her to speak.
“I will do as you ask, Selene,” she said carefully, her expression neutral. “The great mother will have my prayers this night.”
I nodded and turned away. “Peace be with you,” I said by way of goodbye.
“And with you, Selene.”
As I began to walk to my next appointment, Ahmose fell into step beside me. I looked at him sidelong, not used to having my footsteps matched by another.
“How long have you been healing the city, my queen?” he asked.
“A season.”
“And they do not know it is you?”
“No—not until tonight, anyway.”
“You think she knew?”
“I think she suspected. The husband recognised me, but he was afflicted with a fever.”
Ahmose looked distraught. “Should I go back?”
“To achieve what? No, I do not think she will say anything. Not many people would believe her.”
“This is a risky endeavour, my queen.”
“It is.”
“Then why do it?”
“Egypt,” I said simply. “She is me, and I am her. With every tincture, with every stitch, I repair a piece of myself. They are not just people, Ahmose. They are the parts of me.”
Even if some of them raised arms against me or shared cruel rumours, I still loved them like I loved the body I wore in this realm.
It would have been simpler if it were not so. If Egypt had been nothing but a place, and the people nothing but my subjects. Fewer would have died. But I will never regret love. Even if it condemned me at the last.
“You are indeed Isis-blessed,” Ahmose said, his voice thick with devotion.
I didn’t reply. My ability to heal was purely academic. My god had still abandoned me. But I did not contradict him.
“Why Selene?”
I smiled and pointed to the moon. “For like the moon goddess, I bring my own light.”
A handful of years ago, the lyre player had instructed me to do just that: “Do not chase shadows. Make your own light.”
“You should ride a chariot of moonlight, Pharaoh.”
I laughed, but I didn’t think Ahmose was speaking in jest. “My legs will do just fine.”
We visited five more people before I made my way back to Antirhodos. When I finally slipped between the sheets of my bed, Charmion was already fast asleep. My presence woke her.
“You went without me,” she said from the darkness. Her pallet lay beside mine, but ever since the assassin had tried to kill me, she had slept in my bed with me. I felt safer with her there.
“I knew you would want to come, but we have a busy day tomorrow and I needed you here.”
Charmion rolled over and tucked herself into my back. Her voice grew sleepy. “Yes, the barge is ready for embarkment at dawn. But you should not have gone without me.”
“I was not alone. Ahmose came with me.”
She tutted. “That’s where he went. I had the guards looking all over for him.”
“He was fearful of your wrath.”
“Perhaps I will pretend I do not know of his excursion with you. It will be fun to tease him.”
I had noticed she took pleasure in teasing Ahmose, far more than anyone else. But the middle of the night was not the time to question her on her affections.
Charmion yawned. “I wish you had waited for me, though. You know I worry.”
“Sleep now; you can chastise me in the morning.”
“Hmm.” Her breathing softened as sleep claimed her.
It wasn’t long before it took me too.