satisfactory."
"Of course," I promised, but Woserit did not seem certain.
CHAPTER FIVE
A SWEET SCENT OF FIGS
Thebes, 1283-1282 BC
IN THE TEMPLE of Hathor I fell into a routine. In the dark before sunrise, Merit would wake me, and half asleep I would put on a fresh sheath and light a cone of incense beneath my mother's shrine. When the cone had burned itself into ashes, I would make my way through the shadowy halls of the temple to Woserit's chamber. And just as Woserit had promised, I rarely saw her.
Vizier Paser proved to be different from Tutor Paser. He taught me the proper way to greet a Sumerian, and how to know whether a Hittite soldier had made his first kill. "If he has shorn the hair on his face, then he has demonstrated his heroism by slaughtering an enemy." He wanted me to memorize the customs of foreign people: that Sumerians bury their dead on reed mats and that Assyrians value feathers above any precious stone. We spent entire mornings on politics. "The Hittites are the only power in the world that can rise against Egypt," Paser insisted. "No other country is more important than Hatti." So I learned everything I could about Emperor Muwatallis and his son, Prince Urhi; how both men dressed in colorful robes and used swords made of iron. I drew maps of the lands that Muwatallis had conquered, including Ugarit and Syria.
"And the land of Kadesh," Paser said solemnly, "that once belonged to Egypt. But the Heretic King let the Hittites claim it, and now its wealthy ports--where goods come in from the Northern Sea--all belong to the Hittites. Do you understand what that means?"
"It means that we have to find longer routes for trading ivory, copper, and timber. It means that the Hittites profit from it first. But that is about to change," I added. "Because Pharaoh Seti and Ramesses are going to take it back!"
Paser allowed himself a smile. "Yes."
"Is there any news--"
"None."
I waited for word every night, and on the twenty-seventh day of Choiak, Pharaoh's army returned from Kadesh. Heralds ran ahead of the men with news of their victory and lists of the dead, and Merit awakened me before sunrise to say that Asha and Ramesses had both survived. From the window of the western sanctuary, I could see the priestesses of Hathor gathering at the quay. Their jeweled belts winked in the sun, and their open-fronted gowns revealed breasts that had been exquisitely hennaed. Aloli joined me at the window. "Aren't you going to be a part of the celebration?" I asked.
"The High Priestess instructed that I stay here with you."
"Why? Does she think I'll run away?"
Aloli grinned slyly. "You wouldn't?"
"No," I said quietly. "I wouldn't." Below us, the priestesses were now crossing the river, and the bright turquoise sails of Hathor's ships began to disappear beyond the sycamore groves. I turned to Aloli. "Do you remember the first time I came to this temple?"
"Of course. With your big green eyes you seemed a frightened cat. I didn't think you were truly a princess."
I was startled. "Why?"
"Because I knew the princess Nefertari was just fourteen, yet you looked like you were eight or nine."
"But do you remember saying that you had heard about me?"
"Certainly." Aloli crossed from the window and took her place at the harp. "I heard that you and Pharaoh Ramesses were fast friends. And when news of his marriage came, the court assumed that it would be you."
"But I was only thirteen! And I'm the niece of the Heretic King."
Aloli shrugged. "Everyone believed Pharaoh Ramesses would overlook that. No one imagined he would take a harem girl up the dais. So when you came to this temple we thought perhaps you didn't want to be married."
"No. I was never asked. As soon as Ramesses was crowned, Henuttawy went to Pharaoh Seti and spoke for Iset." I told Aloli about Woserit's theory, that she believed Henuttawy was helping Iset toward the crown in exchange for something. "But what could it be?"
"Power," Aloli said quickly.
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