‘Do you think the Empire Mother will return today?’ asked Rushes.
‘I hope so. I wish I knew where she has gone.’ Nessaket had been so peculiar as she left, and the guards had also been strange, as if they could not even see the Empire Mother. When Sarmin had called Mesema to his room in the time of Beyon she had walked in a trance and the guards had not noticed her either. Sarmin had used the pattern to pull her there – and that raised a question in her mind and a fear in her heart. Had Austere Adam drawn Nessaket to him in the same way?
The doors to the women’s wing stood before them and two guards heaved them open. Mesema led Rushes to Nessaket’s rooms, where the babe was asleep in his crib. She patted his soft head. Without Pelar it was too quiet in her own rooms. This boy had brought some joy and comfort back to the wing, but Sarmin’s words concerned her. She lifted the babe and studied his face. He had Beyon’s fierce eyes.
A surge of pain roiled from Mesema’s wrist, spreading over her skin, and her knees buckled. Banreh! ‘Rushes – take him.’ She spoke with urgency and as the girl took the boy into her arms, she doubled over, breathing heavily.
‘Are you well, Your Majesty?’
‘I am fine.’ She turned to go. ‘Take care of him, the poor child.’ What if Nessaket failed to return and Sarmin continued to reject him? She did not care to think of that. Sendhil supported her elbow as she made her way back to her room, and once inside she curled up on her bed.
After an hour twisted and turning in the sheets she at last fell into a fitful sleep, waking some time in the afternoon with her hair stuck to her clammy skin. She slid from the bed, touched her feet to a spinning floor and just made it to her chamber-pot before sickness overcame her.
Tarub ran into the room and placed a cool towel on her brow. ‘I saw you were ill as you slept, Majesty,’ she said. ‘Here, I will help you return to your bed.’
‘No,’ said Mesema, ‘I will go to High Priest Assar of Mirra.’ If this was how Banreh felt then she must see him. She could no longer wait for Sarmin.
‘But you are not well enough, Majesty! Let me call him to you.’
‘No.’ Mesema clutched her stomach, but the second wave of nausea had passed. ‘Just make me look decent.’
Tarub clucked her tongue, but she summoned Willa and together the two women washed the sweat from her skin, put her in a new gown and combed her hair. Mesema looked in the mirror and found the result not beautiful – but that did not matter. She held the cool towel to her forehead one last time before exiting the room. Her guards followed, but not without question. ‘Willa said you were ill and not to be disturbed, Majesty,’ said Sendhil. ‘Are you certain it is safe to be walking through the palace?’
‘It is never safe,’ she answered, ‘but I must speak with Assar in the temple of Mirra.’
‘I hear the prisoner is there.’ Sendhil’s voice held a note of concern.
‘Assar will be with me, Sendhil,’ said Mesema, ‘and in any case the prisoner is the chief of my people.’
‘With the Empire Mother missing, we must be extremely careful. The wife of the emperor should not—’
She sank her fingernails into the palms of her hands. ‘I told you, Sendhil, I will have none of your lessons.’
They walked the remainder of the way in silence, though she could feel Sendhil’s worry and disapproval with every step. At last they wound their way to the temple wing. Mesema glanced into the temple of Herzu as they passed and broke out in a new sweat. Whether it was from the god of pain or Banreh’s sickness, she could not tell. Once in Assar’s realm the peace and greenery comforted her, though the flower-scents caught in her throat.
Assar rushed around the fountain to greet her. He was not muscular like Dinar, but soft and well-covered; that combined with his large brown eyes to present a kindly image. She had always thought that if she were younger she would like to wrap her arms around him. ‘Empress –Your Majesty! It is an honour. Have you come to see the new roses?’
‘No, Assar. I am ill.’
‘Then please, Majesty, sit, and I will examine you.’
Though the bench looked tempting she kept on. ‘No; I will see the prisoner. I know he is here.’ Her wrist felt on fire, and it pulled to her left. She followed it, passing roses and tall grass growing in pots.
‘I am not to allow visitors, Your Majesty.’
‘The emperor disallows even me?’
‘Not the emperor, Majesty.’ Assar hastened to step in front of her. ‘High Priest Dinar.’
She stopped, lest she bump into him and cause her guards to overreact. ‘Dinar gives orders to the High Priest of Mirra?’