The guard here was not asleep. He wore the badges of some rank, and had arrogance to match. “What’s your business, boy?”
“I bear an important message for Princess Aretania.”
“What is the message?”
“It is only for her ears.”
“Don’t fool with me, boy! I will be the judge of what is or is not important. Now speak, or get out of here.”
“As you wish. I was told to allow no one but the princess to see this, on pain of severe punishment, but I’m sure you have the necessary authority.” He handed the sealed scroll to the man.
The guard considered the scroll. Messages to royalty were special; a person could readily get his head lopped off for snooping. So he did not open it. Instead he snapped his fingers for a servant. ‘Take this message to the princess.”
The servant took the scroll and disappeared into the depths of the palace. Bry waited, doing his best to maintain a calm mien. The princess could summarily order his own head off, if she thought the matter an unkind joke. But he hoped she would be curious enough to inquire.
The servant returned. ‘The princess says to admit the messenger to her presence.”
The guard never blinked. “Of course. Guide him there forthwith.”
The servant turned, and Bry stepped briskly forward to accompany him. He felt weak with relief. His gamble had paid off.
The princess’s apartment was well back in the labyrinth. The servant brought him to the curtained door and spoke loudly enough to be heard inside. “Majesty: the messenger is here.”
“Enter, messenger,” a woman’s voice replied.
Bry stepped through the curtain and found himself in a richly decorated suite. There were rugs on the floor and carpets on the walls. A woman stood alone in the center. She was not old, but neither was she young, and she was somewhat plain of feature. Her robe, however, was ornate, and she wore jewelry that looked quite precious. She was clearly the princess. Accordingly, Bry dropped to his knees and bowed his head, waiting for her to acknowledge his presence.
“Rise.”
He got back to his feet, but remained silent. He knew that a common person never spoke to a royal person, but only responded to direct orders or queries.
“What is this message?” she asked.
He looked around. “Your Highness, it must not be overheard by anyone else.”
“Where are you from?”
“Nabataea, Your Highness.”
“Speak to me in that dialect.”
“Gladly, Your Highness,” he said in that variant. It was mainly a matter of accent and inflection, but was almost impossible to fake. Bry, living between the two kingdoms, had learned the dialects of both.
“Ah, you really are! From the northern province, no?”
“Yes, Your Highness. Near Tannur.”
“Follow me.” She turned and went to a small garden courtyard where a fig tree grew. He followed at a respectful distance. She picked a fig and offered it to him. “Eat.”
He accepted it and put it in his mouth. It was delicious. He understood the significance of this, too: he had eaten in her presence, and by Nabataean custom would not hereafter betray her or speak falsely to her.
“Now the message. Dispense with the formality and speak plainly.”
“King Herod has found a new love, his niece Herodias, and will marry her. But she demands that he get rid of you first. Princess, you must flee this kingdom before he returns!”
She blanched. “How came you by this news?”
“My elder sister married a ship captain. He has connections, and learned the scuttlebutt of a ship coming from Rome. They say that Herodias is fair of feature and form, and is given to making demands of men. She has entirely fascinated the king, and—”
“Yes, I’m sure. What says my father?”
“He has not yet been informed. We—we deemed the matter so important that I was sent to warn you, before Herod returned. My sister is even now informing King Aretas. We beg your forgiveness for our presumption, but—”
“Why should I believe you?”
Bry was appalled. “Oh My Lady, I beg you—”
She smiled. “I do believe you. I know my husband, and I have heard of Herodias. I must return forthwith to my father. But I know Herod will not let me go.”
“You must go before he returns!”
“Too late. He is already here.”
“Then if you can flee before he—”
“No, I will not be able to leave without his approval.” Now she looked grim. “What is your name?”
“Bry, of the family of—”
“Bry, you show a certain resourcefulness.” She glanced at the scroll she still held. “All this says is BEARER HAS SECRET MESSAGE.”
“I could not risk writing it down.”
“To be sure. What would you recommend?”
This surprised him. “I—I—maybe if you could go with his permission. If he doesn’t know that you know. If you visit your father—”
“He would not allow that.”
“Then maybe a city near the border, in Peraea—”
She smiled. “That, I may be able to manage. I have been before to the fortress of Machaerus, at the southern end of Peraea. That would even be a suitable place to dispatch me, in some seeming accident of which he has no official knowledge. He won’t want to antagonize my father by being open about it. So he may agree.”
“And from there you can sneak across the border and be safe,” Bry agreed, relieved. “My mission is done.”
“By no means,” she said. “You will see me safely across that border, because you know that terrain as I do not.”
“But I can’t stay with you! I mustn’t be seen with you, lest suspicion—”
“You are young. You will become my maid.”
“Wait here.” She walked from the garden.
Bry waited. He knew how Jes often dressed in male clothing, and sometimes Lin joined her in that. It was safer to travel as boys. But to dress as a girl—
Yet it did make sense. Who would suspect a personal maid? Unless someone made the connection between the arrival of the messenger boy and the new maid.
The princess returned with an armful of female apparel. “We shall make a fine girl of you,” she said with satisfaction.
“But others will know, if I don’t depart after delivering my message.”
“You have already departed. I sent a servant who resembles you. He masked his face. The guards saw him go. I get new servant girls all the time; they have no enduring value. Now change.”
She was catching on quickly. But this remained difficult. “I don’t know anything about being a girl. I will make mistakes all the time.”
“I will teach you.”
“But—”
“Get on with it,” she said briskly. “Take off all your clothing. I will prepare you suitably.”
“But—” he started, alarmed at the thought of being seen naked by a woman.
“If I am to trust you to deliver me through the wilderness, you must trust me with the preparation of your body. I’m sure you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” She reached out and caught hold of his tunic. “Do it now, or I will do it for you.”
Bry hastily got out of his clothing. In a moment he stood before her, bare. She studied him for some time, considering. Then she nodded.
“These are the undergarments,” she said, presenting him with silk slip and sash. He put on the first, but had no idea what to do with the second. “This is padding,” she said. “It belonged to a maiden who was less endowed than she craved. It will give you the form of a maiden. But be sure you keep it in the right place.” She put the thing around his chest, wrapping it several times, tying it behind. It did bulk up his front somewhat.
Then he donned a cotton underskirt, and frilly vest. Over these went a solid dress. There were slippers, too, that made his feet look surprisingly delicate. Finally the princess fussed with his hair, arranging
it in a female manner and fixing it in place with a large curved comb. She tied a colorful scarf over his head.
“There,” she said, satisfied. “Now see yourself.” She held up a large brass mirror.
Bry was amazed. The face in the mirror was that of a rather pretty young woman. He angled the mirror down, and saw a slender but definitely feminine body, complete with dainty feet.
“But I don’t know how to act, or what to say,” he said. “I can’t even—when I have to—the clothing is wrong.”
“You will be mute to all but me. You will do whatever I tell you. If you don’t understand, I will call you stupid. No one will suspect.” She smiled fleetingly. “And you will squat to pee, as all girls do.”
Oh. She seemed to have worked it out. He nodded, mutely.
“Now I will go and charm my loving husband into sending me to Peraea,” she said. “I am not entirely lacking in the wiles of my gender.”
That was becoming clear. But what was he to do, meanwhile?
“Wait here,” she said. “Take this mirror and this sponge and wash your face and arms—and your legs, where they show. Girls are cleaner than boys.”
She departed, and he got to work as directed. He was not thrilled to become a girl, but it did make sense, and certainly it would be even less thrilling to get caught and executed along with the princess. He found that there was indeed a fair amount of dirt caked on him; he hadn’t noticed, before. But with the help of the mirror and a fair amount of work he succeeded in becoming more feminine.
After that things moved swiftly. That afternoon the princess and her maid boarded a horse drawn wagon with a sunshade and curtained sides for privacy and protection from insects. There were horsemen before and after, to ensure that no one interfered with the princess and that she didn’t go anywhere by herself. They were almost alarmingly protective.
That left a lot of time alone in the carriage. The princess insisted on having her maid ride with her, and the maid fetched anything the princess might need in the course of the ride. When the maid did, sometimes a guard would try to steal a kiss. Since Bry was playing the part of a mute, they assumed that he would be unable to tell. Bry had to get advice about how to deal with that. “Just try to stay out of reach,” the princess advised. “They figure to start with kisses, then proceed to more, and if you try to protest, they may try to rape you, and deny it if challenged. This is the way of men with women.”
He was coming to appreciate the situation of women in a way he had not, before. “My sister Flo was raped,” he said. “And my brother’s wife Snow. We thought it was just ill fortune.”
“No, it is standard practice,” she said. “Men conspire to separate women from their protection. A girl must be ever on her guard.” Then she reconsidered. “Or maybe you should kiss turn. Hard.”
“But—”
She brought out a tiny spice box. “This is the foulest-tasting stuff I know of. Smear it on your lips. Just keep your tongue off them.”
Bry touched it with a finger, and tasted it with the tip of his tongue. It seemed as though he had just bitten into camel manure that had grown too ripe. He smiled.
It took only one kiss. Thereafter, no one bothered him, even when the taste faded. It had been worth it.
Betweentimes, they talked. Bry was surprised to discover how much they had in common. He was the youngest boy of an orphaned family, so had felt somewhat isolated from the regular community of people. She was the only daughter of a busy king, used to make a political marriage to a neighbor king who didn’t really care for her, and she felt isolated too. Both of them loved the rocky countryside of Nabataea, and its impressive cliff side architecture. Bry realized that isolation could happen to anyone, whether royal or common. He missed his sister Lin; Aretania missed her brothers.
In due course they reached the fortress Machaerus. “We must not wait, even for a night,” the princess said. “My husband’s assassins can strike at any time, and I have obligingly put my head on the block. I will send you out on an errand, and you will explore the best route out. We must act at nightfall, before they expect it.”
“Yes.”
So even as they arrived, Aretania went into her act. “Oh, this is so wonderful!” she exclaimed as they were escorted to the mountain fortress. “Girl, go out and pick me some posies! I want a nice selection of fresh flowers for my room.”
Bry nodded, picked up his skirts, and hastened out to the countryside. The guards shrugged. Nobody cared about the bad-tasting mute servant girl.
It didn’t take long. He picked flowers on the slopes and scouted out a path suitable for women in skirts, that avoided normal paths. Soon he had an excellent route that would get them efficiently away from the fortress.
And someone spied him. It was a lone boy, probably returning from an errand. It was just bad luck that their paths had crossed.
The boy stared at him as they passed each other. “Bry?”
Startled, he paused. He recognized that voice. “Lin!”
“I thought it was you,” she said as they embraced. “But I never expected a girl. With posies, yet. I had to verify it before speaking.”
“Well, you’re a boy!” he said defensively.
She smiled. “For sure.”
“But how did you know I would be here?”.
“Our spies tracked the royal tour. You have the princess?”
“Yes. I’m scouting her escape route.”
“This is it. I know the way from here. Bring her here and we’ll be ready.”
“Just as soon as we can get her out of the fortress. But suppose guards come along? They follow her everywhere.”
She glanced significantly around. “We have bowmen ready. Bring the guards here too, if you have to. By the time their bodies are found, we’ll be gone.”
“Right. I never expected to see you here.”
“Someone had to make contact, and I said I’d know you anywhere.” She eyed him again. “But I almost didn’t. You make a fine girl, Bry. Maybe you’ll grow up to be a good wife and mother.”
“The same time you become a husband and father!”
She laughed and kissed him on the mouth. And rebounded. “You taste like camel manure!”
So some of the taste remained. “Of course. Next time keep your lips where they belong, you fresh boy.”
“Aw, do I have to?” She patted him on the bottom.
“Your hands too!” he exclaimed, but he couldn’t help laughing.
They separated, both quite satisfied.
He returned at dusk with a nice bouquet of wildflowers. “But these are not enough, you stupid girl!” the princess cried imperiously. “I need more. Many more.”
Bry spread his hands, indicating that he had found all he could.
“You idiot!” the princess screamed. “Do I have to do everything myself? I’ll show you where there are flowers! You just haven’t looked in the right places.” And right then, extemporaneously, she walked out. To show him where to look.
The guards, caught off-guard, were slow to follow. The princess looked back at them. “Hurry up!” she called. “You can pick flowers too.”
For some reason the guards lagged even farther behind. It wasn’t difficult to lose them in the crevices, of the mountain. Then the two of them hoisted skirts and ran along the route Bry indicated, knowing that the pursuit would soon be hot.
He led her, panting, to the place he had encountered Lin. She was there, with a small hooded lamp in the dark. “This way,” she said, offering a helping hand to the princess, who evidently wasn’t accustomed to exercise this strenuous.
“Guards in pursuit,” Bry warned Lin.
“They won’t pass this spot.”
They slowed to a walk. Soon they reached the border. There were troops from Nabataea, and a curtained wagon with horses. “Your Highness,” the captain of the guard said, bowing low.
“Never mind that!” the princess gasped. “Just get me out of here in a hurry!”
&nb
sp; They got to it, and soon the wagon was moving south. Bry assumed that he could now leave the princess’s side, but she had him join her again. “But my sister can—”
“I know you, Bry, and everyone else thinks you’re a girl, while she looks like a boy. There are appearances to be maintained. Help me change; I’m soaking in sweat.” She gestured to the clothing thoughtfully provided in the wagon.
“But you know I’m not,” he protested:
“I saw you naked. Now it’s your turn. Anyway, it’s dark.”
So, while the wagon bumped along through the darkness, she stripped off all her clothes, and dried off, and he helped her get into new clothing. It was indeed dark, and he was almost sorry he wasn’t able to see anything. She was not a beautiful woman, but it would have been interesting.
“Thank you, Bry. Now you may rejoin your sister if you wish. Or, better, bring her in here, and we’ll all sleep.”
Thus Lin joined them, and they talked briefly, and then slept.
As dawn came, they were at Khirbet Tannur, and went in a group to give due thanks to the goddess Atargatis, who had surely guided their successful effort.
Bry thought that now he would be free to return to his family, but the princess had a different notion. “I want you to meet my father, who will surely reward you for your heroism.”
“I’m no hero,” he protested. “I just did what I had to do.”
“Same thing,” she said. “Get in the wagon.”
Now they had new horses and a new guardian force, and rode by day, making good time. But it was nevertheless a tedious daylong trip. They halted only for rest stops. The princess questioned Bry about his family, and seemed genuinely interested in his answers. They also snoozed some more.
In the afternoon they reached the region of the Nabataean capital city of Petra. Bry had not been there before, and was interested, because he had heard that it was a city of amazing splendor. The princess drew aside the curtains so that he could goggle all he wanted. She evidently enjoyed his anticipation.
They were surrounded by towering cliffs of many-colored rock, the bands showing red, yellow, white, and mauve. But that was only the beginning. The way narrowed, with the rock rising up on either side as they followed a winding wadi, where a river ran when there was rain but disappeared in normal times.