The Feather on My Scale: Ch 12

I pushed yet another stack of papers away from me. There were complaints all around along with well wishes for the marriage. More than one noble had lodged a motion for trials of the High Husband to verify his suitability. Seeing as he was no daughter of a duke or viscount, there were questions about progeny. My wrist cracked in the silence of my library as I worked out the stiffness in my shoulder. Thoughts circled back to my teen years and a skirmish of the Northern lords and my dad.

Ramses. Broad, grey hair, deep echoing type of voice that could command an army and silence a pack of nobles. I missed him. Missed the salt and pepper beard and the smell of incense on his robes. Missed the firecracker wit that could alleviate a tense council or remind a young boy climbing apple trees about gravity.

I remembered my bedroom the day before we were to head out to put down the Northern Lord, Lofen. The next memory was him holding my hand. The room was a foggy blur, but it was the stress and anguish in his eyes. The pain wasn’t even something I recalled in detail anymore. Had a gouge of meat taken out of my inner right thigh, missing my right ball, and the other had been nicked, making me infertile. They’d left that one, saying even if the tube was cut, it would help keep me balanced. Sure. Whatever. Not something you want to be told at sixteen.

Dad never forgave himself for that. Or when he caught Ptolemy and me behind the barracks. That had more to do with him having signed orders to send out battalions to deal with Lofen’s inheriters taking up the rebel mantle. I thought he had done it as some retribution. I followed Ptolemy, hid myself as a soldier. Left a note and told dad to go look for a different bodyguard. I’d take my revenge on Lofen for ruining my life.

My memories seemed persistent to revisit the horror of holding Ptolemy to my chest, desperately tearing my shendyt into strips to tourniquet his blown leg. Copper coated my tongue, his blood coating my chest as I begged him to not leave me. Medics were slow to come, working their way from the outer blast radius to find us crouched near cratered-out government building. The northern rebel who’d set the incendiary, or at least warm pieces of him, dripped from my hair and arm, where shrapnel had dug to the bone. Ptolemy’s back was flayed out. It wrapped up around his abs. His eyes.

A rap at the door drew me from the headache forming behind my right temple. “Come in.”

Wash, in his gold and white outfit, peaked in through the door. “My Pharoah?”

“My High Husband?” I sagged back against my chair with a charming, if tired grin.

“I come bearing news, maybe nothing more than rumours, but news that should not be taken lightly.”

That sounded concerning. I motioned him to one of the chairs in front of my desk. “What is troubling you, Wash?”

“I have come from the tailor.” He drew in a breath and let out a sigh while he organized his thoughts.

“That does not seem to be your concern, though,” I pressed. The man was coming out of his shell every day, and I was impressed that he chose to be forthcoming with information.

“Sev, the Lord of the South, where my temple had been located. I heard rumours from behind servant doors that he is not pleased with the marriage arrangement.” Wash fidgeted with the tassels handing from his collar.

“I can’t imagine many of the nobility are. They were vying for their own in with the figurehead king.” I tried to reassure him.

“One of the women, she received a letter from her sister in the South stating that he plans to march on the capital in three weeks if he doesn’t find resolution. It sounded like a warning for her to get out before there is chaos slithering toward our doorstep.”

I contemplated this. “Let me talk with Ptolemy and Nebra about this. I do not wish to play our hand early in front of the nobility this afternoon, in case Sev is planning an alternative. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

Wash’s shoulders sunk in relief. The man was scared of me. I would need to be careful of him. Slight and quiet of disposition, he was much closer to the feather of truth than I could ever be. I wish he had been brought to The School of Osiris, but he would have already been in his late teens from when I had commissioned the building of the complex.

“As it is, there is the afternoon to think of. You’ve had your collar fixed.” I nodded toward his throat.

“Yes. The tailor. He was quite kind. He took measurements and had me provide him with ideas for my wardrobe. He said to anticipate delivery of a summer set within a fortnight.”

“Very good. Now, we must discuss something outside of rebellious vassels. Or maybe to speak more bluntly of them, I have here a stack of papers here making a great many demands of you.” I held up a hand to his blanching apologies. “Trials, proof, they seek a valid reason for why I would take a husband knowing full well that I’m supposed to produce an heir. This is something I needed to discuss with you.”

“Pharaoh?” Wash sat straighter, though the quivering in his figures did little to hide his nerves.

“I don’t think trials will be a problem here. We can run them off with your fire. It’s not that. It is,” I cleared my throat, dashing my gaze to the stained-glass windows hiding the world from me. “It’s that, I can’t have children.”

“You and I are male. That would be impossible.” Wash blinked, cheeks going a soft shade of strawberry.

“Not, well, no that would be impossible yes, but I mean, I can’t have kids.”

“But you are the pharaoh. It’s something you’re supposed to do.”

“Three ways of speaking past each other. I have a disfigurement that makes it impossible for me to leave behind my seed.”

The stunned look was what I had been anticipating. Wash’s brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what the appropriate reply was to that type of news.

“But what about Nebra? She’s your concubine. Seth or Ptolemy-?”

“Seth isn’t going to be able to help with family planning either. Ptolemy is probably our best bet unless you and her hit it off and I’m going to not be the one to force that issue, but it shouldn’t be something foisted on Nebra just to satiate politics. As it is, she’s not noble. The nobility want their fingers in my dynasty. What I’m getting at, Wash, is that they are going to come after you. I will be there, but I wanted to make sure you had time to prepare yourself for when conflicts do meet you at your door.”

Wash sat quietly for a time. I let him internalize while I plowed through yet another handful of letters making needless demands.

“Is that why you didn’t want to consummate our marriage?”

I looked up at the morose tone. “Because of the nobility? No. Screw them. I could care less about their opinion on my marital bed.”

“I mean, the um, the other issue?” He was still looking for the correct phrasing.

“Oh. You mean the injury?”

Biting his lip, he nodded, unable to look at me.

“No. I just wanted to make sure you were lucid and had some time to figure out who we are to each other. Oh, you’re wondering about performance?” I guessed.

The sharp intake of breath told me I was correct. I shook my head. “That’s not a problem. I do get sore in the leg if I have to be on my knees for too long, of if I end up standing for ceremonies, but no, that part of my dignity is still intact.”

Wash swallowed.

“I’m sorry. I’ve made you uncomfortable. I’ve been trying to figure out how to have this conversation, and I didn’t exactly want it to be something you stumbled into. Scar’s not exactly a pretty sight.”

Wash shook his head, still mute and processing.

“It’s not something you need to worry about, though. Alright? There are plans in place, or at least, I could do with your help in determining a plan for your fire in the ceremony this evening.”

“There isn’t a plan in place for your children, at least what’s to be done to pacify the nobles. There isn’t precident for a sharing of a High Husband and High Wife, but would it be of benefit for you to take someone on in that context from the nobles to ease the situation?”

“If only it would be that easy. I can see no way that she would look kindly on finding out my lack of ability, and I would rather they not learn of it.”

“But I’ve seen your scar. What there is of it. You’re bathed daily in front of the congregation. It’s not like we haven’t seen you, my Lord.”

It was my turn to turn red. “And you weren’t put off?”

“I didn’t really even notice it. Then again, I was in charge of your hands and wasn’t exactly trying to get a view of you. Wouldn’t have been my place. The other wab didn’t want me close to your, ehem,” he coughed.

“Understandable. I’ve always felt like it was really obvious. And I forget that you work closely within the rules.”

“I mean, there are sheets in place to keep your modesty from the congregation. It’s not like everyone would get an eyeful from how far down they are. And they kneel, those that can. You would be too far away, even without the sheets, for anyone to ever see. Those of the Temple. Do they not know? They see to the Drawing of the Bolt. Surely Adom knows?”

“It might be a blessing that those raised in the temple often ignore the sciences. As far as I’ve been able to discover, the doctor who patched me up never left notes behind on the incident. It wouldn’t have looked good for a son of a Pharaoh to have failed from a battle like that. I don’t think any of them know.”

“Is this something you’ve talked to Nebra about?” Wash asked.

“Oh, yeah, we’ve talked before. She knows. We’ve been together almost a decade now. It would be odd if she didn’t suspect by now.”

“No, I mean the bit about needing an heir.”

“We’ve talked about it before. So, she’s aware that at some point I would need to somehow come up with one. I just never wanted her to feel obligated. Not everyone wants to do that.”

“What is there to be done then?”

“This evening, we probably all need to get together and find out what would be the best direction to go, if it means finding someone willing to conceive for us, or if Nebra is interested. Ptolemy’s close enough to my bone structure, and his colouring looks like dad, Ramses, for a child to pass as mine.”

“Pharaoh Ramses was blond?” Wash’s interest peaked.

“No, well, not that I remember. He was salt and pepper for what I remember of him. Then again, that’s just my memories. Now, it was more his complexion. Really fair. Took a deep tan when he was out in the sun long enough.

“Pharaoh. Um – Henu?” Wash asked.

“Yes?”

“Was Pharaoh Ramses your actual father?”

Old memories bubbled up at the question, of a hooded, bearded figure reaching down. Massive skeletal hands let go of me. I was pulled out of the shadows and buried into a giant warmth and light. Horse sweat and oud.

“No. Ramses wasn’t my father.”

“Then why would it be a problem if you can’t have children? Adoption is already-“

“The paperwork says my mother was one of Ramses concubines, but I know I didn’t come from the palace. I remember the alleyways near the Nile. You can tell just by looking at me that I don’t come from the noble households.”

“No-”

“Look at me, Wash. Look closely. I won’t get mad at you staring. Tell me who you think I look like,” I demanded. I begged that he would recognize it. I wanted to find some validity. Too many people were too used to my presence.

“I don’t want to say. It will sound rude.”

“A mariner. You think I look like mariner blood.”

Colour dropped out of his face. “I didn’t say that.”

“It doesn’t trouble me. And I think I am. I don’t have many memories before the palace, but I think my mother or father was mariner. Ramses picked me up off the street and made me his son. I’ve heard nobility and priests say I was exotic, that my mother must have been from this or that faction of their lands, but no one has ever mentioned the idea that I would be of mariner decent.”

“My Lord!” Wash hissed in horror.

“The caste system is broken. And I won’t discriminate against those who maintain the bay dome panels because of the risks it poses. You asked that I not discriminate against the Muberakhten. I won’t. And if I can help it, I am determined to change the way the people view those who keep the tides from killing all of us.”

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