next to a pair of stools. “Why don’t you begin?”
I shook my head firmly at I sat. “No. Please. I’d like to hear you first.”
Aloli arranged herself on the wooden stool, then tilted the harp so that it was resting on her shoulder. She sat straight as a reed, the way I had been taught, with her elbows bent out like an ibis about to take flight. Then she positioned her fingers on the strings and an astonishing melody filled the chamber. She closed her eyes and in the echoing strains of her music she was the most beautiful, elegant woman in Egypt. The song resounded in the empty room, first slow, then swift and passionate. Not even Iset or Henuttawy could play the harp with her skill. When her fingers came to rest, I remembered to breathe. “I will never play like that,” I said, with awe.
“Remember, you are fourteen and I am seventeen. It will come with practice.”
“But I practiced every day at the edduba,” I protested.
“In a group, or alone?”
I thought of my music lessons with Asha and Ramesses and flushed at how little we’d ever accomplished. “In a group.”
“Here, there’ll be no one to distract you,” she promised. “You may not be playing in Pharaoh’s military procession tomorrow, but—”
I stood from my stool so swiftly that it fell. “What do you mean? What procession?”
“Egypt is going to war. There’s to be a procession when the army marches through Thebes. News arrived last night.” Aloli frowned. “Why, my lady?”
“Paser never told me! I have to bid Ramesses farewell! I have to tell Asha!”
“But you’re in the temple now. Priestesses in training don’t leave for a year.”
“I’m not a priestess in training!”
Aloli stood up her harp. “I thought you were here to take the High Priestess’s place?”
“No. I am here to stay away from Ramesses. Woserit thinks I can learn how to behave like a queen, and that Ramesses will take me as Chief Wife.”
Aloli’s eyes grew as wide as lotus blossoms. “So that is why I am tutoring you,” she whispered. “With the flute or the lyre, you’re one of a group. With the harp, you are alone onstage, commanding an audience with your skill. And if you can command the Great Hall by yourself with the harp, why not the Audience Chamber with Pharaoh?”
I knew at once that Aloli was right. This was why Woserit had brought us together. “But I am going to that military procession,” I said, not to be dissuaded.
Aloli looked uneasy. “I don’t think the High Priestess will allow it.”
I said nothing more about the procession. We began our lessons, but all I could think about was war, and as soon as our time together was finished, I asked her where I could find the High Priestess. “I can take you to her,” Aloli said. “But she will not be happy to be disturbed. This is her time for writing letters.”
I followed Aloli through the halls of the temple to a pair of heavy wooden doors. “The Per Medjat,” she said.
“She writes in the library?”
“Every afternoon before she sails to the palace.” I hesitated in front of the doors, and Aloli slowly backed away. “You can knock,” she said tentatively, “but do not expect her to answer.” I raised my fist and rapped on the door. When there was silence, I banged again. One of the heavy doors swung open.
“What are you doing here?” Woserit demanded. She had taken off the crown of Hathor, and her hands were stained with sand and ink.
“I have come to make an urgent request,” I said. Woserit looked to Aloli and made no sign of inviting either of us in. “I am guessing she has told you about the procession?”
“Yes,” I said desperately, “and I have come to ask you whether I may attend.”
“Of course not.”
“But—”
“Do you remember when I said there will be times you don’t understand my advice, but that you would need to take it regardless? And do you remember agreeing to that?”
“Yes,” I mumbled.
“Then I expect I won’t have to hear about this again.”
She shut the door. I turned to face Aloli, and I couldn’t keep the tears from my eyes. “If I was his wife, I could be going to war with him.”
“War?” Aloli exclaimed. “You’re a woman!”
“What does it matter? I could be his translator.”
Aloli put her arm around my shoulders. “In a year, my lady, you can see him as often as you choose. It’s not as long as you think.”
“But he will think I am angry with him,” I protested. “He won’t believe that I am forbidden from seeing him because I’m a priestess in training. I’m a princess—there’s nothing a princess is forbidden.”
“Except this. You have given the High Priestess your word.”
“But she doesn’t understand!” I exclaimed.
“When I was in the Temple of Isis, I thought of running away to my mother to tell her how terrible it was. Or of seeing my uncles and begging one of them to take me in. But I didn’t, because if I was caught, I would be banished from the priesthood forever.”
“But isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Of course not! I only wanted to escape from Henuttawy.”
“Then how did you manage?”
“I didn’t. The High Priestess of Hathor did. Woserit heard me perform during a Festival of Opet, and when she came to offer me her compliments, she saw how miserable I was. So she arranged to purchase me from Henuttawy.”
I sucked in my breath. “She bought you like a slave?”
“Henuttawy wouldn’t give me up otherwise.”
“And what did she pay?”
“The same price as seven men. She did it because she knew that my life under Henuttawy was unbearable. So you see, Princess? It would have been a foolish thing for me to have run away. The goddess saw how unhappy I was, and by honoring my vow to Isis, she delivered me from that viper.” She reached across and patted my knee. “You must honor your promise to Hathor, and she will see that you are given your desire as well.”
“But I haven’t made any promise to Hathor.”
“Then honor your vow to Woserit. The High Priestess knows what she is doing.”
THE NEXT morning, I was surprised to see Woserit still in her chamber. She and Paser were crouched, whispering, and when I appeared, they fell silent.
“Princess Nefertari,” Woserit said in greeting. I wondered why she wasn’t in the inner sanctum. “I know how badly you wanted to attend—”
“No,” I said firmly. “I was mistaken.”
Woserit hesitated, as if to take the measure of my words. “I had hoped when you came to this temple, Nefertari, that I would be able to instruct you daily. But with my brother’s war in Kadesh, I am going to be needed in the Audience Chamber more frequently. There will be times I may not see you for days. A month even.”
I looked to Paser, who nodded. “In the mornings, I will still be here, as will all of the priestesses.”
“And they will be able to instruct you as I direct. My hope is that whenever I ask of your progress, I will hear that it is satisfactory.”
“Of course,” I promised, but Woserit did not seem certain.
CHAPTER FIVE
A SWEET SCENT OF FIGS
IN THE TEMPLE of Hathor I fell into a routine. In the dark before sunrise, Merit
