PHARAOH’S HANDMAIDEN
—
By Katherine Briggs
At morning’s light, Pharaoh would be buried and pass into his glorious afterlife.
I, Nephtys, favored handmaiden to Queen of Egypt, would die with his wife and retinue to serve for eternity.
Stars sparkled hours ago, but I cannot sleep. I steal from my servant’s quarters within the palace and enter the lush royal gardens. Slipping between fragrant pomegranate trees, I approach a sweeping view of the city of Rameses. Evening’s breath shivers across my bare shoulders, and I fill my eyes one last time.
To the north, our branch of the Nile River—giver of life—glitters dark under the moon. Past her, I see Goshen, where the Israelite slaves live, and last the Great Sea.
Looking west, the pyramids, proof of Pharaoh’s limitless power. And his tomb. My tomb.
I tremble and quickly raise my chin. “It is an honor to serve Pharaoh in the afterlife.” Prayer-like fervency haunts my tone. “There is no pride greater…” Everything inside me twists violently. I choke, and my traitorous eyes stray toward Goshen. “Must I die?”
A massive hand clasps my mouth. I shriek and fight, but the monster easily wraps his arm around my middle and, running from the palace, carries me toward the desert, bursting into a dense thicket.
He slows. Sets me to my feet. I see him and gasp.
Rosh releases me and steps back. Moonlight bathes the towering Israelite slave, accentuating strength born from cruel labor. I cannot believe he abducted me from the palace and dared to touch me. I blush, and blush further under his intense study. But desperation mars his usual kindness. It alarms me. Then I see thick, fresh stripes around his neck from his slave driver’s whip and a small bundle tied across his back. My breath catches. “Rosh, you left your boundaries. They will kill y—”
Rosh extends his hand. “Come with me, Nephtys.”
My heart jolts. “What?”
He steps forward. “We will cross desert into the wilderness of the Midianites. Into freedom.” His gaze hardens. “You do not deserve this empty death, Nephtys.”
My spine lengthens straight as an obelisk, but my speech emerges brittle. “You speak ignorance. To serve Pharaoh in the afterlife is great honor. I was born and prepared for this.”
He closes the space between us, appearing ready to carry me off. My pulse quickens. “Dawn nears. You must flee. I…”
He stares and words fail me. My desires war between a cornered prey’s urge to escape and…
No! I will choose the noble path.
I spin around and run.
He catches me, pulling me hard against his chest.
“Release me, Rosh!” Righteous anger storms inside me. “I am a favored handmaiden to the queen. This is my destiny, my honor. You are an Israelite slave. You—you are mud and straw and cannot understand this!”
He tightens his grip and steals my breath. “I am a slave to Pharaoh. But are you not also? Pharaoh barely allowed my age to live and threw my newborn brother into your Nile. Pharaoh’s plan for favored handmaidens is servitude unto death. I owe allegiance not to Pharaoh but to Elohim, King of the Universe. Soon, Elohim will heed our cries and rescue his chosen people.” His voice lowers with frightening fury. “Love separates free people and slaves, Nephtys. Which are you?”
He turns me to face him, and his pained, vulnerable expression startles me. “I have loved you since you found me beaten—abandoned to die—and you risked punishment to heal me.” A tremor passes through his body. “I cannot bear your death, Nephtys. Please, come with me.”
I inhale sharply. Horror, joy, disbelief, peace, then agonizing longing consume me.
He is a slave.
Do I not trust him more than anyone else?
Only he has tried to save me.
Distantly, funeral wails to the gods rise from my people’s lips. It chills me. Calls me.
I push from his thick waist. Tears prick unbidden, and I feel that I am already dying. “Let me go, or I will scream, and your slave driver will find you.”
He watches me, but without eye contact, then steps aside.
Emptiness overwhelms me. Did I expect something else? I firm my mouth, push through the blinding thicket, and emerge from the brush.
Behind Rameses, morning’s light glows between earth and sky, chasing the stars.
Like a shadow, Rosh steps into the open behind me.
I gasp. “Rosh, go! You will be killed.”
His shoulders and chest, laced with scars, labor to rise and fall. “Then we both die.”
Slave drivers’ cries separate from Egypt’s mourning.
I shove him toward the thicket but push a tree trunk. Where can we hide? I glance over my shoulder and see the pyramids dripping crimson in the sunrise. Like blood.
My spirit stills. Is this eternal majesty? Or tombs made of mud and straw laid by the hands of long-dead slaves?
My gaze flies to determined, faithful Rosh. Mud and straw?
Truth pierces my soul.
Rosh looks at me and takes my hand. His grasp trembles but, when I do not resist, strengthens. He steps into the thicket, and I follow. We pass through to face unknown desert, and my feet touch sand cooled by evening.
I falter. “How will we survive?”
“Aaron, my cousin, said his brother Moses fled to the wilderness and will welcome us.” Rosh held my gaze. “I love you, Nephtys. I will not lose you.”
I stare back and am captured by a vision of bondage, truth, and love. Shofars blow victoriously in a faraway place. Waves like walls are released and crash across the sea. Endless generations.
I shake my head until I see only Rosh. Freedom whispers inside me, and I believe him.
Together, we escape Egypt.
“Pharaoh’s Handmaiden” originally appeared in Spark May 2017 published under Katie Lohr-Briggs. Digital and physical copies may be purchased here.
Photo by Photo by Mariam Soliman on Unsplash
