Back in her private chambers it took a long time for Lysandra’s tears to stop flowing. Sitting on the end of the bed, Kaylah held up a mirror to her. There were streaks all over her face.
‘I look like a zebra,’ Lysandra said.
‘It’s understandable. I certainly wouldn’t like the idea of being married to Khafis,’ Kaylah replied. ‘Can your father really force you to marry against your will?’
‘He’s the Pharaoh. I’m but a pawn in the royal game of Senet. With a financier like Khafis as his son-in-law, father will have far greater borrowing power to fund ever more ridiculous statues of himself, like the one we saw in the park today.’
‘The one that looks like an elephant’s arse?’
‘That’s the one,’ Lysandra laughed.
‘What are you going to do now?’
‘Sometimes I wish I could just run away.’
Kaylah furrowed her brow. ‘Where would you go, Princess?’
‘Maybe I could run away to your village and settle down there.’
‘I don’t think you’d like it. Up before the dawn, cleaning and gutting fish all day long – you’d end up smelling like one.’
‘At least the snakes in your village don’t take human form.’
‘True, but it’s so far away from the city and such a hard life. My mother always told me to find work in Alexandria as soon as I was old enough and not become a fishwife like her.’
‘How is your mother these days?’
‘Last I heard from my brother she was doing well. Nine children take some looking after but two of us have left home and the others are growing up.’
Lysandra took her eyes off Kaylah and looked down to the floor. Tears welled up.
‘Thinking about your mother again?’ Kaylah slid along the bed and put an arm around her.
‘Yes,’ Lysandra spoke through sobs. ‘She would never have let this happen. She could always stand up to father. I miss her so much.’
Kaylah stroked her hair and said, ‘I know, why don’t we get that chest out? That usually makes you happy. You haven’t looked at it for a while.’
‘I’d like that,’ Lysandra whispered.
‘Although I’m not getting up on the stool,’ confessed Kaylah.
Lysandra positioned the stool in front of her large wardrobe. She opened the doors and stood on the stool.
‘Careful now, Princess.’
Above the countless dresses and gowns hanging from a rail was a compartment. Standing on her tiptoes, Lysandra opened the compartment and reached in and pulled out the wooden chest. She passed it down to Kaylah who blew the dust off and brought it over to the bed.
The chest was a ushabti box, given to Lysandra by her mother shortly before she died. It was filled with small ushabti dolls, figurines that would be buried with her when she died.
‘It’s been years since I’ve looked at this,’ Lysandra confided as she sat down on the bed and opened the lid of the brightly painted box. She lifted out one of the dolls. It was made of wood and was the size of her index finger. Carved in the likeness of a cook it was meant to prepare meals for her in the afterlife.
‘These ones are nice. They look like a family,’ said Kaylah, lifting out a set of ushabti in bright blue faience. All but one of the figures were seated and she placed them in a group around a miniature faience table. ‘This standing one must be the father,’ she added.
Lysandra had always liked this little blue family sitting around what she supposed was a dinner table. Yet she always curious as to why there was no mother. The figures themselves were covered in hieroglyphs.
‘I wonder what it says?’ she mused. It had never occurred to her that the text would have a meaning. ‘Kaylah, can you fetch me that translation book?’
‘Yes, Princess.’
Kaylah returned with a book of scrolls called Translations of Heiroglyhic text into Greek, by Charios of Rosetta. Vizier Nuth had begrudgingly lent it to Lysandra a few years ago and had never asked for it back.
Lysandra took out a stylus and a sheet of papyrus, smoothed out the scroll on the bed and slowly, painstakingly translated the text inscribed on the ushabti family.
Kaylah was asleep when she had finished. Lysandra shook her. ‘Kaylah, Kaylah, listen to this. Please wake up.’
Kaylah grunted and stretched out slowly. ‘Why so excited? What does it say?’
‘The text reads: “Always a scholar. Never stop learning.” This is not a family at all. Can’t you see? It is a classroom. They are scholars sitting around a table. The figure we thought was the father is actually a teacher.’
‘Wow! Your mother must have been trying to send you a message.’
‘Yes,’ Lysandra nodded, smiling. ‘A message indeed.’
* * *
Lysandra and Kaylah sat in the shade of a date palm in the Park of the Scholars, sharing a lunch of olives, cheese and some flat bread. Every shaded spot in the park was taken up by groups eating, studying or just chatting. A stall not far from the Library gates selling hot delicacies was doing brisk business with the scores of hungry scholars passing by.
Close to their date palm, a group of white robed scholars were sitting on mats in a semi-circle under an open-sided tent. The group’s rapt attention was on their teacher: an old man, blue-robed, long-haired with a voluminous white beard. The teacher was talking in an impassioned voice and making sweeping gestures with his arms. In truth, Lysandra had chosen this spot so she could eavesdrop on the lesson.
She caught some of the words: Cosmos, revolution, eclipse, lunar and edged ever closer to the end of her shaded space. As the old man spoke, the scholars, all of whom were young men, made notes with their styluses on wax-covered boards. Overcome with curiosity, Lysandra grabbed Kaylah by the arm walked to a palm closer to the scholars and hid behind it and listened.
‘Kaylah, pass me my tablet will you.’
‘Yes, Princess.’
Lysandra listened carefully, making notes, thinking about the students’ questions and the teacher’s answers. They addressed their teacher as Europhides.
‘Teacher, please tell us, what is this great skill all people possess but rarely ever use?’ asked one of the students.
Lysandra gripped the stylus, poised to write.
Europhides replied, ‘That’s easy young master. It is called observation. Without it, what are our theories but mere words on a page? With observation comes truth. With observation, new theories suggest themselves. And now I will demonstrate just how we neglect to use it. Did any of you observe the young princess and her maid listening to us from behind that date palm?’
A murmur came from the scholars. Lysandra dropped her stylus.
‘Perhaps the princess would be so kind as to step out from behind the tree and reveal herself to our humble school,’ said Europhides.
Lysandra looked up wide-eyed at Kaylah. Her face burned despite the shade. She mentally figured whether it would be more embarrassing to make a run for it or show herself. Kaylah was no help, her face was a bright shade of pink. Lysandra stepped out from behind the date palm and gave a nervous bow.
The students all mumbled greetings, some more effusive than the other. Some of them turned their faces away from her. Lysandra blushed like a child.
‘We will be returning to the Library shortly but please sit down and join us here for a while. You’ll hear much better without a tree trunk between us.’
Lysandra gave some quick instructions to Kaylah as to where they would meet then sat down with the group, and listened in awe to the renowned Europhides of Alexandria.
* * *
Lysandra followed the scholars back into the library. She walked behind them at a distance but close enough to see where they were going. They went up two flights of stairs and came to a large room with long benches and smaller tables around the outside. She sat down at one of the tables and tried to see where the scholars were getting their scrolls from.
One of the scholars, a young man of around twenty with pale olive eyes, walked over to her and handed her a pair of scrolls. She smiled at him, untied the ribbon and began to read.
There were two texts on astronomy. One was in her own Greek tongue and the other was in Persian, a language she barely knew. She was too nervous to ask but after comparing the scrolls for a while realised that they were the identical text albeit in different languages. She wrote out a passage in Greek next to a passage in Persian and tried to memorise the translations.
One by one the young men left, some of them saying even politely saying goodbye. The young man who handed her the scroll approached her and said, ‘I’ll be leaving now, Princess. It’s a wonderful thing for you to come and study. My name is Marcus, I hope to see you again soon.’
Marcus offered his hand and Lysandra shook it gently. She couldn’t stop from smiling. ‘I hope so too,’ she said.
As Marcus turned to leave she saw Vizier Nuth striding across to her, his mouth a dismal line on his angular face. She sensed there might be smoke coming from his ears.
‘Princess, what are you doing here? Did you not remember your sister’s wedding rehearsal? Your father is beside himself and your sister is in tears. Come with me this instant.’
‘Oh dear, I completely forgot,’ Lysandra stammered. Her smile vanished.
She quickly packed her bag and nodded to Europhides. Nuth was in no mood to anger any further. She sheepishly followed behind him.
* * *
The look Cleo gave Lysandra as she arrived for the rehearsal could have struck down a cobra. Lysandra was directed to her dance partner, Khafis of Heliopolis. Any joy that was left in her was extinguished.
She diligently practiced the dances and her duties at the wedding.
Cleo approached her after the rehearsal. ‘Why were you so late sister? What possible reason you could have to put yourself ahead of the first Princess of Egypt?’
Lysandra was genuinely sorry. ‘I apologise sweet sister. I was reading in the library and completely forgot about the rehearsal.’
‘Library? I don’t want to hear you say that word again in my presence. Sister, this wedding means so much to me and more importantly our family. Can you not just concentrate for a while and put yourself ahead of your foolish vanity? Library! What is that for a princess? I need you to show that you are a princess worthy of the name.’
‘Yes, sweet sister, I apologise more effusively than the Nile in flood.’
‘Do you not remember we used to play at weddings as children in the nursery?’
‘Yes. I think I was always the groom.’
‘And you did it so well. Lysandra, let’s have that fun again. We can pretend to be like children and enjoy my last few weeks of being a single woman. Mother would have wanted it.’
Cleo gave her a lifeless hug and left with her maids.
Kaylah was waiting in Lysandra’s chambers. There was a panicked look on her face. ‘Princess, your father wants to see you.’
‘I thought he would.’
Kaylah escorted her as far as the antechamber of the throne room.
‘Wish me luck, Kaylah.’
Kaylah squeezed her hand and scurried off. Lysandra watched her depart and turned towards the door of the Palace’s inner sanctum. She studied the intricate design of the gilt wooden door. The top two panels featured a lion and a scorpion, tail poised to strike. One of the palace guard opened the door and announced her presence. Her father was sitting on the gold throne at the far end of the room, Grand Vizier Nuth at his right shoulder. Lysandra took a deep breath and crossed the marble floor, her sandals echoing across the great space. She knelt at her father’s feet, her eyes firmly fixed on the floor.
* * *
Later that night, Lysandra sat on the edge of her bed, kohl smudged across her face.
‘It could be worse, Princess. He might have thrown you in a pit of vipers or something,’ said Kaylah, trying to keep her spirits up.
‘He might as well have for all I care,’ Lysandra groaned, tilting her head back so Kaylah could clean her face.
‘Come on Princess, just enjoy the next few months preparing for the wedding. Then it won’t be long until your own … wedding. I’m sure things will work out fine.’
‘Oh Kaylah, don’t you understand? He has forbidden me to leave the Palace. There is no chance of me going to the Library until after the wedding, and if I’m to marry that fat hippo I might never go there again. There is so much to learn about the stars and mathematics and different languages. How can I do it stuck in here like a caged Nightingale?’
‘Princess, you need a good night’s rest, that’s all. Things will get better, trust me.’
‘You are a good soul Kaylah. Be a friend and pilfer some of that sleeping draught from the physician’s cupboard for me. I think I’ll need a double dose tonight.’
When she was alone Lysandra opened her satchel and read the notes she had made in the Library. At least she still had them. Then she took out the tablet and went out to her private balcony. It afforded a good view of city. There was light coming from the windows in the Library and she envied those still inside. Her eyes wandered upwards to the heavens. The constellations were as familiar to her as the steps of the wedding dance.
I can see the Hippo! Over there is Orion! And directly above me is the Crocodile!
Near the eastern horizon she spotted the evening star. She started to count the stars and wondered whether it was possible to count them all. She soon gave up, realising it would be as easy as counting all the grains of sand in the desert. Looking down at her tablet, she saw the first word she had written that day. The word somehow fortified her.
The word was:
Cosmos.
* * *
For the next few days Lysandra did everything that was asked of her. Each afternoon she attended rehearsals for the wedding and spend some time with her sister and the high priestesses as they pored over all the details and rituals of the wedding.
Occasionally she would see Khafis, and was more often than not paired to dance with him at rehearsals. He had evidently not given up his designs on her but was far more polite now. He’d taken to perfuming himself with a thick scent that smelled of musk. Khafis’s father even bowed to her one day and complimented her on her posture and looks and how she would make a great mother to her son’s children one day. She had to bite her lip not to reply.
For the rest of the time and in the evenings Lysandra kept to her chambers. Sometimes she would play Kaylah in a game of Senet, or play the lyre to accompany Kaylah singing. Kaylah’s voice was quite beautiful and she knew countless songs from her life in the village. Oftentimes Lysandra preferred to be alone, longing for the time she could venture to the Library once more. She had some papyrus and styluses and was able to make some progress on Persian translations from a book Kaylah had pilfered from Nuth’s personal collection. Nuth was so busy spying on everyone he wasn’t going to miss a book like that.
One night Kaylah burst into her chambers carrying a package wrapped in heavy cloth. There was a folded papyrus note attached to it.
‘Princess, look at this. It was left outside my door. It is addressed to you.’ Kaylah’s eyes were wide as a child’s on their name day.
‘It’s for me. Maybe I’ll open it in private.’
‘Oh, Princess you can’t do that, it will kill me if I don’t see it.’
Lysandra grinned. ‘Alright then. As if I could keep a secret from you anyway.’
She pulled at the ribbon and removed the cloth covering. Inside was a garment. She stood up and held it out in front of her. Something clattered on to the floor but she didn’t pay it any mind. The garment was pitch black. On the shoulder was a dull bronze badge in the shape of a vulture.
Kaylah’s expression had changed from wonder to confusion. ‘Try it on,’ she said.
She wriggled into the garment. It was a cloak with a hood.
‘How does it look?’
Kaylah giggled. ‘You look like some kind of priestess. Don’t forget this,’ she said picking up the object that had fallen on the floor. It was a mask, painted in gold with a smiling mouth, like the actors in the Greek plays wore. She put it on.
‘Please Princess, take if off. It’s scary. What do you think this is all about?’ said Kaylah.
‘I don’t know. Leave me now and I’ll try to understand it. And remember, not a word to anyone.’
Kaylah made the sign of sewing her lips together and wished her goodnight.
Alone, Lysandra placed the cloak and mask on the bed and turned her attention to the note. She broke the seal and unrolled it. It read:
Dear Student,
Two nights from now at the ninth hour come to the East Gate of the Library. Make sure you wear the cloak and mask and present the rod to the librarian on duty. He will show you the way to the lecture room where your tutor will be awaiting.
Yours Truly,
The Crocodile.
She read the note three times and the goosebumps on her arms grew larger on each reading. Her mind raced as she tried to untangle what was going on. How was she going to get out? What she was going to bring? Who was the Crocodile? And what was the rod mentioned in the letter? She lifted everything off the bed slowly and moved it over to the low table. There was nothing. She picked up the cloak and held it out in at arms length. There were two pockets at the hip. She put her hand in one and felt something in there. She lifted it out – it was an ivory rod, the size of her thumb, with text inscribed in Persian.
Lysandra went outside to her balcony and tried to think straight. The black cloak, the badge, the letter. What did it all mean? She scanned the night sky. To her left was the constellation of Orion. She stared at it intently, putting her own interpretations on the shapes of the stars. It began to make sense. She had been presented with the uniform of the Vultures, the semi-secret group of night time scholars of the Library. Her head spun. She had no idea how she was going to do it but knew that in two nights from now she was going to the Library, her father’s orders be damned. Kaylah, I’m going to need your help.
to be continued…
