No Woman So Fair (27 page)

“Come. I will help you with your bath and then put colors on your face.”

This ritual proved to be quite an experience for Sarai. The bathing took a long time, and she managed to relax in the warm water, momentarily forgetting some of her fears. Hagar would have washed her all over, but Sarai quickly took over the job herself. She did allow the slave woman to wash her hair, however, and then Hagar took nearly an hour to fix it to her satisfaction.

“Now,” Hagar said, “let me help you with the rest of your preparations.”

As she worked, the slave woman spoke of the elements of the colors that were used by Egyptian women. She had ground malachite on a palate and mixed it with oil to make the eye paint called
kohl
, which she kept in small, beautifully adorned golden jars. Hagar expertly applied this with a small stick. After this she used henna to paint Sarai's nails and would have painted her palms and the soles of her feet, but Sarai objected. Finally Hagar ground red ochre, mixed it with water, and lightly applied it to Sarai's cheeks and lips.

After the makeup was complete, Hagar brought forth the sheer linen clothing that had been provided, but Sarai protested. “This robe is much too sheer. Why, you can see right through it!”

“Of course you can,” Hagar said, puzzled. “What's wrong with that?”

Sarai shook her head. If the woman saw no harm in running about in such a state, she could not explain it to her. She compromised by putting on several of the linen robes, which together provided enough thickness for at least some modesty.

The jewelry Hagar brought forth was so exquisite it took Sarai's breath away. One piece in particular won her admiration—it was a bead collar that came down to her breast and sparkled with gold and precious stones, with the head of a hawk for a clasp. After fastening matching earrings to her ears, Hagar held up a mirror of highly polished metal and said, “There, are you not beautiful?”

Sarai looked at herself and frowned. She did not like all the face paint. She had allowed Hagar to put it on but now had an impulse to wash it all off. She knew, however, that she had to be careful while she was in this place and simply replied, “Your work pleases me. Thank you very much, Hagar.”

Hagar raised her eyebrows. “Most people don't bother to thank slaves, mistress.”

“I always want to be kind.”

Hagar stared at the woman in front of her. She was puzzled by her, partly by her age, for she was much older than the women who were usually brought to the pharaoh. But there was a gentleness about her that fascinated the slave girl. “We will do this every day.”

“Do what?”

“Have your bath and fix your face and dress you in beautiful clothes.”

“But that would be a waste of water! Water is very precious.”

Hagar laughed at Sarai's concern. “Oh, you needn't worry about that. There is plenty of water in the Nile, mistress!”

****

The lack of activity in the house of women was burdensome to Sarai. For three days she had risen and gone through the ritual bath and allowed Hagar to dress her and adorn her with paint and ornaments. Accustomed as she was to hard work, it was a shocking experience to have absolutely nothing to do all day long.

Hagar kept her new mistress entertained with music and games. She was adept at playing a small handheld harp and had a good singing voice. She knew many of the songs of her people, and Sarai enjoyed listening to her sing them. The slave woman also provided a game called
senet
, which consisted of a board inlaid with ebony, ivory, and gold on which they moved about polished wooden game pieces. Sarai learned the rules quickly, and the two women spent hours playing it.

Much of the time Sarai simply looked out of her window, dreaming of Abram and her people, but she sometimes toured the house, accompanied by Hagar. She did not know how to feel about the wives of Pharaoh, but there was no doubt about
their
feelings. None of them approached her or spoke, and the looks some of them gave her were venomous.

“Why do they hate me, Hagar?”

“They hate any woman who comes to be the wife of Pharaoh, or even a concubine. They're jealous.”

“They needn't be jealous of me.” Sarai shook her head with despair.

“Pharaoh is all they think about.”

Hagar might have said more, but suddenly Ahut appeared. He seemed distracted and wrung his hands as he said, “Quickly prepare yourself. Pharaoh is ready to welcome you.”

“I am prepared.”

Ahut stared at her in confusion. “No woman is ever prepared.”

“Well,
I
am,” Sarai said sharply.

“Then come with me,” Ahut said. He led her out of the house of women, across a courtyard, and into the palace, a huge building that loomed up several stories. Sarai was overwhelmed by the immensity of the long archway through which they entered. Its walls were covered in paintings of brilliant colors—of gods and pharaohs of old celebrating their triumphs. There were rows of sphinxes, lionlike figures with the faces of men, and everywhere servants were scurrying, moving, whispering. It was like a huge beehive.

“The pharaoh will see you in his private quarters.”

Sarai was not at all sure how she felt about this, but she had little choice. She mounted two flights of stairs to the third story, where the floor was intricately decorated with tile mosaics. She looked down to see men with long spears pictured in a reed boat hunting a hippopotamus. Other mosaics showed scenes of hunters throwing spears to bring down birds. There were many other pictures, but she had no time to look at them, for Ahut led her through a pair of enormous doors. There, at the far end of the room, sat a man, and Sarai felt a pang of disappointment. The regalia of the pharaoh were overwhelming. Riches—gold, silver, and precious stone—were everywhere, and the man who sat before her wore a double crown. As she approached, her disappointment increased. She had expected a magnificent figure, but no mere man could live up to the reputation of Pharaoh.

“Ah, the lady Sarai. We are pleased to welcome you to our palace.”

Pharaoh Mentuhotep II was a short man, rather chubby, with a boyish-looking face. Sarai knew he was in his early thirties, but he looked no more than twenty. His fingers were fat, and his rings glittered as he lifted his hand in a greeting. He did seem to be a cheerful-looking individual, and Sarai felt a gleam of hope.
Perhaps he will not find me to be interesting. I pray your protection, O Eternal One
.

“I bow before the mighty pharaoh,” Sarai said and did bow low before him.

“So this is the sister of my good friend Abram the prophet. Come, lady, and walk with me. I will show you my palace.”

“You have met my brother?”

“Not yet, but I assume that I will. My servant tells me that he is a priest and a prophet. Such are always welcome in my kingdom. I want to be on good terms with all of the gods.”

The pharaoh's voice was high-pitched, almost feminine, but despite his innocent appearance, there was a light in his eyes that warned Sarai that, childlike as he might appear, there was a carnivore on the inside.

For the next hour Pharaoh showed her about the palace and then finally sat her down at a table. “You will sit with me while we eat,” he said. “I know that my cook will find something to please you.”

“I am not hard to please, mighty Pharaoh. My people eat very simply.”

“Then this will be a treat for you.”

The meal was ornate, but Sarai had little appetite for food. She answered the pharaoh's questions, which at first were general, but when the meal was over, he got up and moved over to the couch where she had taken her meal and sat down beside her. “Now,” he said smoothly, “this is better.” He put his hand out and touched her arm. “What a beautiful complexion.” he whispered. Then reaching up, he touched her face. “So clear and so fair. Not like the dusky women of Egypt.”

Sarai felt a sense of revulsion as his hand touched her cheek. She knew that this was the first step of intimacy and quickly said, “I understand you are interested in the Eternal One.”

“Ah yes.” Pharaoh's attention was diverted, and he stared into Sarai's eyes. “I am a god myself, but I like to know about other gods.”

For the next half hour Pharaoh interrogated Sarai about her god. He wanted to know everything about the Eternal One, and finally he said, “This is strange indeed. We will speak more of it later.” Suddenly he leaned forward and put his arm around her. His fat hand caressed her back, moving slowly up and down, and without thinking, Sarai stood up and said, “I am a little tired. If you would permit me, Lord, I would go back to my quarters.”

Pharaoh stood up too, his face darkened. “No woman has ever resisted me.”

Sarai did not know what to say to that, and her face showed her confusion.

Suddenly Pharaoh laughed. “No woman can resist a god. You will not be able to either.” He laughed again and shook his head. “What woman would refuse a god? Go then. We will speak later.”

Sarai nearly burst with relief as she turned and left the room. Ahut was waiting for her, and his face was alive. “Did you enjoy your audience with the god?”

Sarai wanted to shout out,
No, I did not!
Instead she replied calmly, “He's a very interesting man.”

“Indeed he is. Did he speak of your god?”

“Yes, he wanted to know all about Him.”

“He spends all of his time learning about the different gods.” Ahut's mind was working feverishly. After all, this woman could possibly be a wife of Pharaoh one day—she might even rise to become the number one wife. She was different, and that was what Pharaoh valued. Ahut leaned close and whispered, “I can tell that he likes you. It's entirely possible you will become the wife of Pharaoh one day. Then we two will be very close.”

Sarai murmured some reply but was glad when she got back to her room. As she entered, Hagar rushed to her and said, “What did you think of the pharaoh?”

Sarai shook her head. “I'm afraid of him, Hagar. I want nothing to do with him.”

Hagar stared at her with consternation. “But he is the pharaoh!”

“I will not be his wife, nor his concubine.”

“But why not, when you have no husband?”

Sarai almost burst out with the truth, but she did not know Hagar well enough for that, and no word must get to Pharaoh. “If I could only see my brother.”

“Are you two very close?”

Sarai smiled wearily and nodded her head. “Very close, Hagar—very close indeed!”

****

“Master, the Egyptians have brought more beasts.”

Abram turned quickly. He had just exited from his tent when he heard Eliezer's voice. He waited until the younger man came and stood before him and saw the troubled expression in his steward's eyes. “So many! Sheep, goats, and cattle, and the officer who brought them said we were to take our cattle to greener pastures where there is better water.”

Abram straightened up, his face tense. He had nearly lost his mind over the past six weeks. He had not heard a word from Sarai, and although he had gone regularly to the gate of the palace, all he had received there was a cold warning from Menhades, the chief priest, or Ahut, the harem keeper, that Sarai was still a guest. Every time both men gave a thinly veiled warning that Abram would be better off to simply leave his sister in Pharaoh's hands.

“What does it all mean, master?” Eliezer said. “All these presents! We have more cattle than we've ever had. But what about my mistress?”

“I can't tell you anything, Eliezer. Sarai's fate is in the hands of Pharaoh.”

“What kind of a man is he?”

“I've never met him, but he's a man who has always had everything he could ever think of.”

“But she's your wife!”

Abram had shared with Eliezer the deceit he had used, and now he said grimly, “I wish I had never made up that lie! Lies are never good. They might have killed me to get her, but I don't think so. I made a mistake, Eliezer.”

Eliezer stood irresolutely for a moment, his mind working quickly. He loved Sarai like the mother he had never known. Now he lowered his voice, although no one was there to overhear him. “Master, let's steal her!”

“Steal her! What do you mean?”

“I mean, let's break into the palace, take her, and get away from here.”

“Why, that's impossible, Eliezer!”

“No, I think we can do it. We'd have to strike quickly and get away as fast as possible.”

Abram put his hand on the young man's shoulder, looking directly into his eyes. “There's a good heart speaking, my son, but it's impossible.” He shook his head and said dolefully, “Only the Eternal One can save her now—and us as well.”

****

Sarai sat tensely on a golden chair with purple cushions. Pharaoh had been speaking for some time, as he had many times over the past month and a half. She tried to keep his mind on what he was saying, but her own mind searched frantically for more to tell him about the Eternal One. She had come to realize how little she actually knew about the God she served. And now as she sat there watching his expression, she saw that a slyness had begun to creep into his features. She had learned much about men over her life and could see the lust in his eyes like a sullen flame, but at the same time his eyes seemed mysteriously empty, like windows peering out at nothing.

From far off came the sounds of a priest's incantations, and as a counterpoint to that, a cock crowed, like the clarion call of a trumpet. Pharaoh came over and stood looking down at her. “I'd hoped that my hospitality would make you forget your brother.”

Sarai allowed nothing but surprise to show on her face. “You would care little for a woman who could forget her own brother, but I am grateful, mighty Pharaoh, for you have been a gracious host. You have taken good care of your guest.”