head, then took the leg of the duck in my right hand, just as she had done. She passed me her linen, and when I used it to keep sauce from falling on my robe, her gaze softened. "The next time you come into the Great Hall," she said, "I expect you to bring a table linen with you. Have Merit make it from an old sheath."
I nodded. "And sit straight. And raise your head. None of this is your own personal failing, Nefertari. You are here to learn and that's what you're doing."
WHEN THE meal was over. I followed Aloli through the halls to the eastern sanctuary. "I think I will like it here," I lied.
Aloli marched ahead, and her long robes swished back and forth. "The cleaning and the rituals, you'll get used to them," she promised. "And while we're practicing harp," she gloated, "the other priestesses will be out greeting pilgrims."
I stopped walking. "I'm the only one practicing harp?"
"The entire temple can't play, can it?" Aloli turned around. "Only a few priestesses have the talent. I'm one of them."
We entered the eastern sanctuary. Tiles of highly polished blue and gold covered the walls, tracing images of the goddess Hathor teaching mortals how to play and sing.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Aloli asked, as she walked to a small platform where two harps had been positioned 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
I nodded. "And sit straight. And raise your head. None of this is your own personal failing, Nefertari. You are here to learn and that's what you're doing."
WHEN THE meal was over. I followed Aloli through the halls to the eastern sanctuary. "I think I will like it here," I lied.
Aloli marched ahead, and her long robes swished back and forth. "The cleaning and the rituals, you'll get used to them," she promised. "And while we're practicing harp," she gloated, "the other priestesses will be out greeting pilgrims."
I stopped walking. "I'm the only one practicing harp?"
"The entire temple can't play, can it?" Aloli turned around. "Only a few priestesses have the talent. I'm one of them."
We entered the eastern sanctuary. Tiles of highly polished blue and gold covered the walls, tracing images of the goddess Hathor teaching mortals how to play and sing.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Aloli asked, as she walked to a small platform where two harps had been positioned 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
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