The Heretic Queen by Michelle Moran Read Free Book Online Page B

harem of Mi-Wer."
    Even then I knew there was no worse fate for a woman of the palace than to end up in the harem of Mi-Wer, surrounded by the emptiness of the western desert. Many young girls imagine that marrying a Pharaoh will mean a lifetime of ease spent wandering the gardens, gossiping in the baths, and choosing between sandals beaded with lapis or coral--but nothing could be further from the truth. Certainly, there were some women, like Iset's grandmother, the prettiest or cleverest, who were kept in the harem closest to Pharaoh's palace. But Malkata's harem could only house so many women, and most were sent to distant palaces where they were forced to spin and weave to survive. The halls of Mi-Wer were filled with old women, lonely and bitter.
    "Only one person can make sure that Iset never becomes Chief Wife with the power to drive you away," Woserit insisted. "One person close enough to Ramesses to persuade him that Iset should be just another princess. You. By becoming Chief Wife in her place."
    I had been holding my breath, but now, it left me. I sat down on a chair and gripped its wooden arms. "And challenge Iset?" I thought of rising against Henuttawy and suddenly felt sick. "I could never do that. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't," I protested. "I'm only thirteen."
    "You will not be thirteen forever. But you have to start behaving like a princess of Egypt. You must stop running wild through the palace like some harem girl."
    "I'm the niece of a heretic," I whispered. "The viziers would never accept it. Rahotep--"
    "There are ways around Rahotep."
    "But I thought I would study at the edduba and become an emissary."
    "And who appoints the emissaries?" Woserit asked.
    "Pharaoh."
    "And once my brother is gone? Remember, Pharaoh Seti is twenty years my senior. When he is called by Osiris, who will assign his emissaries then?"
    "Ramesses."
    "And when Ramesses is off at war?"
    "His viziers," I guessed. "Or the High Priest of Amun. Or--"
    "Pharaoh's Chief Wife?"
    I stared at the river mosaic on the wall. Fish swam across the brightly painted tiles while fishermen lay idly on the river's banks. Their lives were quiet. They were carefree. The fisherman's son didn't have to worry about what he would become when he reached fifteen. His destiny was certain, and his fate rested with the Gods and the seasons. No maze of choices lay before him. "I cannot begin a war with Iset," I resolved.
    "You won't have to," Woserit said. "My sister has already begun it. You want to be an emissary, Nefertari, but how will you be able to do that in Iset and Henuttawy's Thebes?"
    "I can't challenge Henuttawy," I said with certainty.
    "Perhaps not alone. But I could help you. You aren't the only one who suffers if Iset becomes Chief Wife. Henuttawy would love to see me banished to a temple in the Fayyum."
    I wanted to ask her why, but her tone had a finality I dared not question. It occurred to me that in the Great Hall, she never spoke with her sister, even though they both sat at the same table beneath the dais.
    "She won't succeed," Woserit continued, "but that's only because I am willing to rise up against her to stop it. There are many times when I go to my brother's feasts simply to make sure that Henuttawy isn't destroying my reputation."
    "But I don't want to have anything to do with court politics," I protested.
    Woserit searched my face to see if I was serious. "Soon, life is going to be very different, Nefertari. You may change your mind about challenging Iset. If you do, you will know where I am."
    She offered me her arm in silence, and when I took it, she walked me slowly to the door. Outside, the tiled halls still teemed with bustling servants. They rushed about us, carrying candles and chairs for the wedding feast. All the palace had talked about for ten days was Iset. What if it was always like this, and the excitement of a new princess and possibly a child meant that Ramesses was lost to me forever? Woserit's figure receded down