The Pharaoh's Daughter by Mesu Andrews

Author:Mesu Andrews [Andrews, Mesu]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-60142-600-0
Publisher: The Crown Publishing Group
Published: 2015-03-17T04:00:00+00:00

23

When the child grew older, she took him to Pharaoh’s daughter and he became her son. She named him Moses, saying, “I drew him out of the water.”

—EXODUS 2:10

Anippe held Mehy close, inhaling the comforting scent of a sweaty, happy, healthy little boy. His head hadn’t been shaved during his few days in the craftsmen’s camp, so fine fuzz grew around his princely lock. Anippe brushed her cheek against the soft growth. Her boy was rumpled and joyful. Balm to her soul.

Miriam had been waiting in their private chamber when Anippe and Ankhe stumbled in from the quay. Anippe had nearly collapsed with relief at the sight of her son. Ankhe turned on her heel and retreated to her private chamber. Anippe didn’t have the strength to beg her to stay. Perhaps Ankhe needed time to grieve alone.

“Please, Amira, come sit on your couch.” Miriam had poured a bowl of cool water and washed Anippe’s travel-weary form, ministering to her body and soul.

The chamber was quiet now—except for Miriam’s lovely Hebrew tune. She sat spinning flax fibers at Anippe’s feet, while Anippe rocked her sleepy boy on the embroidered couch.

“Amira, shall I take Moses for a nap at the bathhouse?”

Anippe looked down to see if he was sleeping. His lids were heavy, but he was still awake—just quietly resting on her chest. Her heart melted and tears came. “No, Miriam. I need to have him close.”

In the stillness of that moment, Anippe could almost forget they could soon be fighting for their lives. She must prepare her handmaid for the possibilities. “Miriam?”

The girl looked up, innocence framed between shocking brown curls. “Yes, Amira?”

Anippe swallowed her rising panic. “You must never let anyone hear you call him Moses. Do you understand?”

“I understand. My mother warned me of the same thing before we stayed in the Hebrew village. We never called him Moses in front of father or Mered.”

Anippe’s heart twisted at the thought. Mehy had lived in the same rooms with his real father, and the man didn’t even know it. She shook her head to regain focus. “That’s very good, Miriam. Now, do you know what to do if we’re ever in danger—for instance, if an enemy ship docked at the Avaris quay? Do you know how to call for help?”

Miriam blinked several times, her expression unchanged. “No, Amira. I don’t think I do.”

“If it ever happens, you should take Prince Mehy and run across dead-man’s land to the Qantir estate.” Anippe resumed rocking her son, holding him tighter as she spoke. “If a guard tries to stop you, tell them who Mehy is—Master Sebak’s heir. They’ll let you pass.”

“All right.” Without further comment, Miriam resumed her spinning and humming. Anippe breathed deeply, trying to slow her heartbeat to its normal rhythm. The tune Miriam sang was haunting but lovely, and Anippe closed her eyes and let the music sooth her soul. Her rocking slowed.

A knock on the door startled them both.

Miriam jumped up to answer it, peeked to see who was there, and then opened the door.

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