Queen of the Heavens Read online

  When the violet hue lifted and we finally separated, I remained filled with peace and calm. The woman looked into my eyes, her lips, or what was left of them, upturned in a slight smile.

  “I was never afraid of dying,” the leper said, “but before crossing over to the afterworld, I wanted to know love one more time in this world. Even my children could not show me love, but you did, and I am grateful.”

  I reached out and stroked the woman’s face.

  “Your courage will be rewarded as you face Osiris’ Judgment,” I said.

  The woman took my hand in hers and kissed it. “The rewards will be yours, my dear,” she replied, then released my hand and walked away.

  As I watched the woman depart, I did not regret that I could not heal her body, for I had helped instead to heal her soul, and she had helped to heal mine.

  When I turned again to the crowd, I saw the people had maintained their distance. “Which of the poor among you desires my assistance?” I asked, but no one responded. “I’m here to help you,” I said. “Why does no one come forward?”

  The fear in the people’s eyes answered my question.

  “You worry that since I touched the leper, I might now be a leper. Is this not so?”

  The crowd remained mute.

  “I embraced the leper with love in my heart,” I told the people in a loud voice. “When love is present the dark forces are powerless.”

  After some moments, the young woman who had brought me the straw mat stepped forward.

  “I would be honored if you would help me,” she said.

  “What ails you?” I asked.

  “Usually I’m well, but from time to time I fall to the ground thrashing about. I don’t remember what happened, but often I’m severely bruised. I fear that someday the thrashing will kill me.”

  “Lie down on the bench,” I said.

  As I performed a healing ritual, I noticed Father standing in the crowd. I acknowledged him with a nod and though he did not interrupt me, I knew by the stern look on his face that he was not pleased.

  VI

  So be it, I said to myself. Isis commands me, not my parents. I must live according to her will, not theirs.

  After finishing the healing ritual on the young woman, I walked over to Father. The stern look had not left him.

  “Don’t fault me for being here,” I said. “Isis commanded me to work among these people.”

  Father brushed away flies that had been attracted to the market by the carrion and fish. “Your mother and I were worried about you. We feared you had been taken away by thieves or eaten by a crocodile. A servant who came here to barter for linen told us where you were.”

  “There’s no need to worry, Father. The gods and goddesses protect me. Sekhmet would devour the soul of anyone who would do me harm. I wish to continue coming to the market to help the less fortunate whom I find here.”

  I spoke with determination, letting Father know through the timbre of my voice that nothing would deter me.

  “I don’t know, Tuya. These people you want to help are not of our kind.”

  I sensed Father was wavering, so I pressed my advantage.

  “You may throw me in my room and bar the door, but I’ll find a way out,” I declared. “Isis wants me here. I act according to her will, not yours or mine.”

  “All right, Tuya,” Father said, with exasperation in his voice. “On occasion you may come to the market to do your healing, but you must always let your mother and I know where you are so we won’t worry.”

  “I will, Father, now that I know I have your approval.”

  “I don’t approve,” Father snapped, “but I’ll accede to Isis’ wishes.”

  Dusk had arrived, so I walked home with Father. The next morning I studied hieroglyphs with Pentu. Soon after midday, I performed a healing approved by my parents on a nobleman’s wife who suffered terribly from pain in her joints. Later in the day, Mother summoned me to the garden, where she was sitting with Father.

  “We must talk, Tuya,” she said.

  “What about, Mother?”

  “We can wait no longer to find you a husband. Most of your friends are betrothed or married. Before long, no man will want you.”

  Mother’s words caught me by surprise, though there was no reason they should have. I may have been a healer who knew how to read and write, but I also was entering womanhood and was expected to marry and bear children.

  “What of my healing work?” I asked.

  “That would be up to your husband,” Mother answered. “Your duty to him would be to produce children and bring them up properly.”

  Mother’s words irritated me like a rash. Why should I, who has Isis within her, be commanded by a husband? I thought. “Don’t my desires matter?” I inquired.

  “Your desires could lead you to an early and terrible death,” Mother replied with her voice raised. “A merchant’s wife told me that yesterday in the market you even touched a leper.”

  “Lepers deserve to be loved, Mother.”

  “Quiet, Tuya. Your Father and I will find you a worthy spouse. It is bad enough that you go to the market to heal the poor, but touching lepers? I won’t allow it. Neither would a husband.”

  I seethed with anger at Mother’s words.

  “Who would you have me marry?” I asked. “Ibana, the scribe’s son? He looks like a toad.”

  “Ibana is a possibility, but first we must aim higher,” Mother said. “The power of Isis flows through you, but the power of Horus flows through the Pharaoh. It would be fitting for you to be with him.”

  Despite my anger, Mother’s words made me laugh. “The Pharaoh! You’re joking,” I said, but Mother’s countenance did not change and I knew immediately she was serious. “Lord Harenhab is an old man!” I screeched. “If I’m to marry, allow me to be with a young man who can show me love and passion.”

  “Not Lord Harenhab,” Father interjected, to my great relief. “The Pharaoh will die childless, but everyone knows the Vizier Ramesses is Harenhab’s favorite and someday will succeed him. Ramesses has a son Sethos, who is called Sety, who would then be in line for the throne.”

  “Is Sety handsome?” I asked.

  “Yes. Quite,” Father replied.

  “We’re commoners. He wouldn’t want me.”

  “I’m not so sure. You have power the priests and priestesses don’t possess. Ramesses is not of noble birth, either. He was once a soldier like me. Having a young woman in his family who talks with the gods might appeal to him.”

  “Your Father will let it be known through his friends at the palace that you’re available to marry Sety,” Mother said.

  “Your plan won’t work, so why even bother trying?” I responded.

  “You’d prefer to be married to a scribe’s son who looks like a toad instead of to a Prince?” Mother rejoined. “We may be commoners, but we’re of very high stature, and you speak with Isis. This will pique the interest of the Vizier Ramesses and his son.”

  I ceased arguing with Mother. Continuing to do so would have done no good, and besides, I was no longer sure what I would argue about for I was confused. I went to my room and sat on the floor before a gilded statue of Isis given to me by a woman whose pain I had eased.

  What should I do? I asked the Queen of the Heavens. My parents talk of their wishes but not of mine, but what are my wishes? I’m a healer, but I’m also entering womanhood and I want to lie next to a husband someday and know love.

  I went to my bed. A part of me wanted to cry, but another part wanted to scream so that I might vent the passion that was boiling inside me so powerfully that it seemed as if it would burst through my skin.

  Each day, my attention was being drawn more and more to men, their movements and mannerisms, and the appearance of their bodies. As I lay in bed, I imagined myself being held in the muscular arms of a young man of substance, then caressed by his gentle hands. My skin tingled, and the excitement in my heart expanded to fill my whole body. I
touched my sacred place and it quickly became wet.

  I coveted a man who would make love to me with passion and power, caring and kindness, and who would allow me to do the same for him. As the throes of desire enveloped me, I thought of myself but a few years before, playing with my wooden dolls and imagining myself as the mother caring for the child. I fell asleep with the thought of myself holding a child against my breasts, with my husband embracing me.

  The next morning, the sensual aroma of lotus filled the air as I waited by the pond for Maya to arrive. The night’s sleep had done nothing to still my mind, temper my desires or lessen my apprehensions, but I felt at ease as soon as my teacher walked through the gate. Maya floated over to me like a goddess.

  “My parents want me to marry,” I told her as she sat down beside me on the stone bench under the banyan tree.

  “Of course they do,” Maya said, “but what do you want?”

  “I’m not sure. I want to know passion and motherhood, but I want to continue my healing work. I fear I wouldn’t be able to do both, especially if my parents’ plan succeeds. They want me to marry Sety, the son of the Vizier Ramesses.”

  Maya raised her eyebrows. “They have great ambitions for you.”

  “I think they’re being foolish,” I said. “Ramesses may soon be the heir-apparent. He would never want a commoner like me to marry his son.”

  “You’re a commoner by birth,” Maya replied, “but Isis is with you, and this is most uncommon. You’re also quite beautiful. Don’t underestimate your allure, or your chances to marry well.”

  Maya saw what I refused to see. While my parents’ plan was ambitious, it was not implausible, and I realized my skeptical words were being dictated by my fear the plan would succeed.

  “I worry that Sety would prevent me from living according to Isis’ will,” I said.

  “Are you certain you know her will?” Maya asked.

  “Isis has given me the power to heal. Certainly she would want me to continue doing so.”

  “You also have the power to nurture, as Isis nurtured Horus. By nurturing, Tuya, you can manifest the divine.”

  “I fear my power would be consumed by a man, and especially a man who would be Pharaoh.”

  “Why?” Maya asked. “Sekhmet’s power is not consumed by her consort Ptah. Osiris did not consume Isis’ power. Indeed, she used her power to resurrect him. Sekhmet and Ptah, Isis and Osiris, Amun and Mut, Thoth and Maat. Among the Neters, male and female are in perfect balance.”

  “I don’t feel balance, Maya. I feel confused.”

  “Then seek balance, Tuya. Balance is the way of the Cosmos, and the source of all joy.”

  My conversation with Maya left me more befuddled than before. I sought to contain my confusion by meditating and chanting, and working even more diligently than usual to master hieroglyphs. My healing work also gave me respite from my concerns over marriage. I even went to the market once to do healings, though Mother admonished me that I should not touch a leper. Her admonishment would have done no good, but lepers seldom ventured into town, so the occasion in which I might touch one did not arise.

  One day, while walking by the Nile after finishing a lesson with Pentu, a servant came up to me.

  “Your parents want you to return home immediately,” she said.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. A man from the palace is here. He came with soldiers.”

  I rushed home to find a wrinkled emissary as ancient as the Sphinx sitting in the garden on a three-legged stool, with two military officers standing behind him and Mother and Father standing to his side. I stood before the emissary in a pleated wig, dangling earrings, a white dress that clung tightly to me, and a beaded collar that dropped to the top of my bare breasts.

  “She’s quite beautiful,” the emissary said to my parents. “Ramesses will be pleased and so will Sety.”

  “What are you speaking of, sir?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Have your parents not told you?” he replied. “The Vizier Ramesses is looking for a wife for his son.”

  Confusion roiled within me, and I was unprepared for my reaction.

  “I’m meant to be a healer, not a wife,” I protested sharply.

  “Tuya. Be silent!” Father commanded.

  “I want to serve Isis,” I continued. “I want to spend my life in the healing temples, not in the royal palace.”

  “Sir,” my embarrassed Father said to the emissary, “this comes as a shock to our daughter. Allow my wife and me to talk with Tuya alone and reason with her.”

  “You had better,” the emissary responded. “Ramesses would not tolerate such impudence. He will meet Tuya the day after tomorrow. Soldiers will come here to escort the three of you to the palace.”

  “I’ll already be at my palace post, but my wife and daughter will await them, and Tuya will be most presentable,” Father said. “Please tell Ramesses my wife and I are honored that he wants to meet our child.”

  I stayed my tongue until the emissary and the officers had left, then shouted at my parents, “Don’t make me do this!”

  “Enough, Tuya” Mother shouted back. “If Ramesses accepts you as Sety’s consort then someday you’ll be Queen.”

  “I don’t want to be Queen,” I responded angrily, tears gushing from my eyes. “I want to heal people, not command them.”

  “This is not your decision,” Father said. “If you won’t think of yourself then think of your mother and me. To be the parents of Sety’s wife will open many doors for us.”

  “You think nothing at all of me and my wishes,” I cried.

  “We do think of you,” Father replied. “Don’t you understand the opportunity you have here? You could do wonderful work in the healing temples, but think of all you could do as the consort of a Pharaoh. You could serve all of Egypt as his link to the gods.”

  I ceased my protest, for I recognized Father’s words were not without merit. For the rest of the day I secluded myself in my room. A servant brought me a meal, but I had none of it, save for a few sips of water. I tried to sleep, but could not, so I sat through the night before the statue of Isis and meditated. Just before dawn, the violet hue enveloped me and I knew Isis wished to converse.

  Why do you do this to me? I asked.

  “Do what?” Isis inquired.

  Make me live a life I don’t want to live.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to live life as royalty?”

  I hesitated for a moment, for I was not sure.

  I want to serve you, Isis, not a Pharaoh, I finally said. I won’t do it.

  “What makes you think you are the doer?” Isis replied. “The forces of the Cosmos have brought you to this point. It was not your doing.”

  Are you saying I have no choice?

  “You always have a choice, but right action does not require making one. When the course of action is clear, Tuya, you know without question what to do. It is not a matter of choosing.”

  The violet hue began to diminish.

  No, Isis. Don’t leave me.

  “I am always with you. Remember, Tuya. All is divine perfection. All is as it should be.”

  As the violet hue lifted, a calm descended upon me. The chatter of crickets, the hooting of owls and other noises of the night blended with the gentle ringing inside my head. The sound dissolved into nothingness, yet I heard everything. My eyes were closed, but I saw all.

  I sat before the statue of Isis in perfect peace and balance until the light of morning flooded through my bedroom window. I rose, and quenched my thirst with a drink of water. Though I had slept not even for a moment, I enjoyed a clarity of mind I had not known for some time.

  Fear has made me act like a silly child. I said to myself. I, a commoner, could become the wife of a handsome and virile Pharaoh-to-be and the mother of the heir to the throne. It is not by chance that I’m presented with such an opportunity.

  I left my room to join Mother and
Father, who were taking their morning meal in the garden.

  “I’m sorry I embarrassed you in front of the emissary,” I told them. “I would be honored to meet Ramesses at the palace, and I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  Father and Mother smiled, for my words had lifted a great burden from them.

  “Your choice is a wise one, Tuya,” Father said.

  “It is the will of the Cosmos,” I replied. “I had no choice to make.”

  VII

  The next morning, I rose well before dawn and made my way by olive-oil lamp to the lotus pond. I entered the warm water up to my neck, gazed at celestial worlds sparkling in the black sky above and inhaled the sweet scents of the garden.

  Thank you, I said to the Divine Cosmos, of which I was a part. You have given me great responsibilities. May I be worthy of your trust.

  I stayed in the pond absorbing the energy of the starlight until my skin began to pucker. After I emerged, the servant Tamit, a young woman about my age, came to assist me. She rubbed my body with a coarse cloth, rinsed me with water brought in jars from the Nile, then dried and covered me with a fine linen towel.

  “This day is special, for I’m going to the palace to meet the Vizier Ramesses,” I told the servant. “He’s seeking a wife for his son so I must look my best.”

  “The son of a Vizier!” Tamit replied with a start. “Don’t worry, My Lady. You will be beautiful in all ways.”

  At the dressing table back in my room, the servant applied a few drops of frankincense to my forehead. “This will give you confidence for the meeting ahead,” she said. At my breasts, she rubbed the oil of lotus. “This will open your heart to the possibility of love with the Vizier’s son.”

  Tamit took from my cosmetics box a polished brass mirror and held it in front of me. While looking into it, I highlighted my eyes with a green paint made from malachite so they might appear as lush as the fertile Nile, then gave my face a blush by brushing a powder of red ocher onto my cheeks.