The Pharaoh's Daughter (17 page)

“Follow me.” The amira's sister walked toward the partitioned bedchamber, but Mered held his ground.

“I'll leave the scrolls on the table and go.” He bent to deposit them on the low-lying table, refusing to be lured any further into whatever game the amira—or her sister—might be playing.

“Mered? Bring the scrolls into the bedchamber.” Puah's voice. Why was his wife in the amira's bedchamber?

Rushing past the lamp-toting sister, Mered breached the partition to find his wife standing over Anippe, who looked pink-cheeked and healthy on her puffy mattress. Fire stirred in his belly, and he threw the papyrus on the bed. “Here are your scrolls, Amira. May I take my wife and go?” Mered reached for Puah's hand, which she offered, but then she ducked her head.

Anippe's kind expression turned cold. She reached for the blank scrolls—intentionally slowly—and unrolled the first, then reached for the second. She was in no hurry to answer a slave.

Anippe peered around Mered, searching in the dim light behind him. “Ankhe, why don't you tell the linen keeper why I summoned him?”

He'd rather know what happened to Miriam. He'd rather hear that the amira's deceptive ways were behind her.

Instead, he glared at Anippe while the handmaid spoke. “Master Sebak trusted you, and my sister thought she'd bring you into her confidence. She is with child, and your wife will care for her in the months leading to the delivery—but Anippe will remain sequestered in her private chambers.”

Mered's shoulders sagged, his anger doused with shame. Master Sebak's young bride had turned to him for support, and he'd failed her—failed Sebak.
El-Shaddai, forgive me.

Anippe cast the scrolls across the bed, splayed open. “I wanted to draw designs since I won't visit the linen shop until after Sebak's heir is born.” Her fiery gaze burned a hole in him. “Perhaps it was an inconvenience for you to bring the scrolls. Perhaps another Hebrew would manage the linen shop more efficiently.”

On his knees before her last word was spoken, Mered was shaken to the core. “Please, Amira, forgive me. I'm not myself. I was in a hurry to get home tonight because I saw my little friend Miriam disappear behind your private wall today. Her mother, Jochebed, is a dear friend—”

“You saw Miriam enter my bathhouse?” Anippe's anxious tone stopped Mered's pleading.

He watched the three women exchange concerned glances, feeding his dread. “Please, can you tell me what happened to the girl?” he asked.

The amira's stare was a silent threat that lingered into awkwardness. “I'm taking the girl as a house slave,” she said finally. “She pleased me.”

Ankhe's eyes bulged. “Anippe, that's not what we discus—”

The amira silenced her with a lifted hand and addressed Mered again. “You, linen keeper, will return to your shop and work through the night for your insolence. Your wife, Puah, will bring the girl to the villa immediately.”

Mered's heart raced.
Puah? Walking to the village alone at dusk?

Anippe smiled like a jackal. “I'm not without mercy, Mered. Puah can bring Miriam's ummi to serve at the house as well. We'll find some use for the woman.” Without warning, her expression turned to granite. “Now get out.”

Anippe's heart was in her throat as Ankhe escorted Mered past the bedchamber partition to the door. It all made sense. The striking resemblance between Miriam's and the babe's eyes. Miriam returning with a wet nurse so quickly. Jochebed was Miriam's mother—and the baby's. Anippe rubbed her temples,
doubts haunting her. What if Jochebed refused to give up her son at weaning time? And what about Mered—if he'd seen Miriam disappear behind the wall, had he seen the basket? He didn't mention it. Surely if he'd seen the basket, he would have inquired. He certainly wasn't shy about expressing his concerns. The chamber door slammed shut, and Puah jumped, reminding Anippe of her presence.

Ankhe appeared moments later. “Well, I think that went well. Puah didn't have to lie to her husband, and the estate foreman knows you're working on linen designs while sequestered.”

She picked up a scroll and rolled it up, securing it with the leather tie. “Perhaps the household won't think their amira is completely mad.”

Anippe heard Puah sniff and noticed the woman wiping her cheeks. Perhaps she'd been too hard on the midwife's husband. “Go get Jochebed and Miriam, Ankhe.”

With an indignant snort, her sister marched out of the chamber to retrieve the baby, the wet nurse, and the girl who had been waiting in the bathhouse. Alone now with Puah, Anippe could explain her decision to keep Mered at the shop tonight.

“Thank you, Amira.” Puah wiped away more tears, and Anippe's confusion mounted.

“Why are you thanking me?”

“You could have ordered me to return home with your secret and lie with my silence or lie outright to Mered.” She sniffed, wiping her nose on a small piece of linen from her belt. “My husband can't abide deceit. At least now he knows, but I didn't tell the lie.”

Anippe cringed at the woman's twisted gratitude. “I know I'm placing you in a difficult situation, Puah, but I'll reward you well if we succeed.”

The midwife smiled through her tears. “I need no reward, Amira. I'm a slave. I do as I'm told.”

Ankhe arrived holding Miriam's hand, and Jochebed followed, carrying the baby boy. Miriam bounced over to Puah, and Jochebed laid the babe in Anippe's arms.

“You're the boy's ummi, aren't you,” Anippe said.

Crimson crept up Jochebed's neck. “I was his mother this morning, but you're his ummi now.” She bowed and clasped her trembling hands.

Anippe traded a doubtful glance with Ankhe. Could they risk Jochebed's attachment? What if, after nursing him for three years, she tried to steal him away or worse—tried to reveal the truth?

“I should be going.” Puah planted a kiss on Miriam's head.

Unaware that she was now Anippe's house slave, Miriam ran to her ummi Jochebed and clutched her waist. “I love you. Good-bye. I'll see you when you're done being a wet nurse.”

Jochebed knelt and steadied Miriam's shoulders, an unnatural peace settling over them. “You be a good helper for Puah. Take care of your father and brother while I'm gone. When I come home, life will be as it has always been.”

Somehow, the woman's words soothed Anippe's fears. “If you recognize this baby is truly
my
son, Jochebed, both you and Miriam may stay and serve in the villa.”

Miriam clapped and bounced, and Jochebed let happy tears flow. “Thank you, Amira. Thank you.”

Ankhe rolled her eyes. “How can they be happy about being prisoners until your ruse is over?”

Miriam ceased her celebration. “What's a prisoner?”

If Anippe wasn't holding her new son, she would have pitched a vase at Ankhe's head. She scooted to the edge of her bed and stood near the little girl, who had wide innocent eyes and lots of questions. “A prisoner is someone forced to stay somewhere they don't want to be.”

“Like the Hebrews?”

Jochebed clamped a hand over her daughter's mouth. “No, Miriam.” She bowed her head. “Please forgive her, Amira. Sometimes she doesn't think before she—”

“Miriam, you must learn to think before you speak.” Anippe didn't want to be cross with the girl, but lives were at stake. “The baby from the basket is now my son, but no one can know I found him in the Nile. Do you understand? We must let everyone think I'm pregnant and that this baby came from
my own body. You will stay in the chamber next door with your mother while she nurses my son.”

Miriam struggled from her mother's grasp. “But who'll take care of father and Aaron?”

“I will, little one.” Puah knelt to meet Miriam face to face. “Mered and I will take good care of Amram and Aaron while you and your mother serve in the villa. But remember, you mustn't tell anyone why you're here.”

The little girl bobbed her head and bounced her curls. If innocence and beauty were rewarded, this girl would win a prize. Hopefully her discretion would develop with age.

“All right then.” Puah turned again to Anippe. “I'm sorry, Amira, but I really must go. It's already dusk, and since Mered won't be able to walk with me—” She covered her mouth, stricken. “I didn't mean to accuse … or complain. You had every right to discipline—”

“Yes, I had every right, but I sent Mered to the linen shop because I was hiding Jochebed and Miriam in the bathhouse.” She lifted her brow to make the point. “I commanded him to work through the night because of his insolence.”

Puah bowed and nodded. “I understand.” She fidgeted with her belt and waited.

Anippe noted the last shades of sunset and felt a twinge of guilt that she'd kept the midwife so long. “Ankhe will instruct Nassor to escort you home.” She turned to Ankhe. “Make sure he takes at least two other guards with him. I can't have my midwife eaten by jackals or hyenas.”

Puah grinned, and Anippe felt a moment of connection with her. Could they ever be friends? What an odd thought.

“Thank you, Amira.” Puah bowed and then walked toward Jochebed, offering a meaningful glance. Their hands met and then released slowly as they parted. A tender and silent good-bye between two women who obviously knew the depths of friendship. What were their lives like in the Hebrew camp, away from Ramessids and masters and fear?

Little Miriam yawned, her mouth almost swallowing her face, and then growled as she exhaled.

“Miriam.” Jochebed seemed mortified. “Don't be rude.”

Anippe chuckled but admired the Hebrew mother's diligent training. “Perhaps it's almost bedtime.”

“Yes. She and her little brother, Aaron, sleep and rise with the sun.”

A shadow of grief crossed the woman's face at the mention of her son, and Anippe suddenly felt guilty for destroying this family. “I'll pay you, Jochebed, for your service. I'll send extra rations of grain, wine, oil—whatever your husband and son need while you're gone.”

Jochebed drew Miriam into an embrace, her face fairly beaming. “Thank you, Amira, but there's no need. You've given me Miriam.”

“Well, regardless, I'll begin the extra rations tomorrow.”

Miriam yawned again, quieter this time, but still reminding Anippe the child needed sleep.

“You two will sleep in my sitting room tonight,” she instructed. “Tomorrow, we'll spend the day at the bathhouse.” Smiling at the babe in her arms and then at Miriam, she said, “You can help me take care of the baby while we're hidden away by the Nile, and when we return to the chamber tomorrow evening, nice slaves will have made a doorway through my bedchamber wall.” She pointed to a space on the other side of her bed, where an entry would be made joining the next chamber. “Then, you and your mother can visit the baby and me without having to pass by those Ramessid guards in the hallway.”

“Just like at home with Mered and Puah.” Miriam clapped and giggled.

Anippe turned to Jochebed for clarification. “Our family's rooms share a doorway with Mered and Puah's room in the long house.” Jochebed bowed and nudged her daughter to mirror her respect. “Thank you, Amira, for taking such good care of us.” When she lifted her head, she looked longingly at the baby. “Would you like me to take him for the night?”

The chamber door slammed shut, and Anippe heard voices. “Ankhe?”

A young Hebrew woman appeared carrying a newborn. Ankhe followed, wearing a smirk and carrying a basket of clothes. “I thought I'd make a quick adjustment to our plan, sister—like you did by inviting Miriam to stay.”

Anippe looked down at the Hebrew boy in her arms and then back at her
sister. “What have you done, Ankhe? Will you tell the whole villa and get us both killed?”

Ankhe's Hebrew woman suddenly looked terrified, but her sister wore a triumphant grin. “Anippe, meet your new handmaid, Ephah. Since you've been slow in the past to keep your promises to me, I selected Ephah to replace me as your handmaid.”

“Ankhe, this wasn't part of the plan. Why would you choose a handmaid with an infant—a male infant?”

“I chose her
because
of her son. She's been hiding him in our slave quarters for a week.” She wrapped her arm around the girl's shoulders. “We made quite a stir when we left, making sure all the house slaves knew we were moving to chambers on the master's wing because the amira is with child and will be learning to care for an heir.”

“But what if the guards try to throw him into the Nile?”

Ankhe rolled her eyes. “You're the Amira, Anippe. Tell the guards you saved this male to practice holding the waste pot for Sebak's heir. Use your authority. Bluff if you must.” Ankhe retraced her steps toward the chamber door and lowered her voice. “I'll sleep in the private chamber across the hall. Ephah and her babe will share the chamber with Jochebed and Miriam so that either baby's cry will sound natural, normal, unremarkable. They must simply make sure the two brats don't cry at the same time.” Ankhe folded her arms across her chest, daring Anippe to argue.