Besides being a seer, mother also had a healing touch. She gathered herbs and other things with medicinal qualities and made potions for different maladies. She took me with her to gather plants and explained to me how they were used and why. This time I did not ask if I would need to be able to heal in order to help the baby king. I knew mother did not have an answer.

When I was ten, Mother told me that I was to work outside our home for a time. I would be the nanny for the newborn son of a wealthy patron. Over a year ago, the woman came to mother in despair. She was approaching forty and was childless. Her husband was considering taking a second wife now that he had the means. Mother had made her a potion from the Mandrake flower that was supposed to help in conception. She had conceived and born her husband an heir.

Mother knew the woman needed a nanny. The woman chose to nurse her own child and so did not need a wet nurse. Her husband indulged her choice, but he instructed her to find a nanny to help with the rest of the childrearing chores. Although I was young, the woman agreed when mother offered my services. She preferred to have a nanny that would not interfere in her ideas of how her son should be raised.

I was not happy with mother's decision. It meant that I would have to leave my home. The night she told me of my impending employment, I begged through tears, "Please, mother. Do not make me go. I'm going to ask Papa to intervene. He loves me and won't send me away."

She sat down beside my sleeping pallet and dried my tears. "I do not want to send you away, Subira. But the gods have not blessed me with a third child. If you are to aid an infant king, then you need to know something about babies. I prayed and prayed about this. Instead of giving me a child, the gods sent this woman. You must go. You will not be far from home."

Then she began to sing. As I drifted to sleep, the first line of her song echoed over and over through my dreams, "Hush, little Peep, never doubt." When I awoke, my desire to involve Papa was gone.

And so for the next three years, I lived in a wealthy household. I learned how to swaddle, feed, and care for a child. I even discovereded things about the male anatomy I hadn't experienced firsthand. The first time I changed my tiny charge, he peed in my face. As he began to babble, I grasped how to interpret baby talk. As he approached two, I learned how to get him to respond more positively when he stuck out his lip and said "No." Before long, I loved him as though he were my own, and I became content as a nanny.

When my charge was small, I offered to help with other household tasks when he slept. Helping clean and cook kept boredom at bay until the baby became mobile. It also allowed me to develop friendships with the other help. I would place his sleeping basket near me while I cleaned or helped prepare food. Thus, I gained knowledge of how a wealthy household worked. All the while, I remembered what Mother ingrained in me. I paid attention to details.

When my charge was young, I rarely saw the master of the house. However, as the child grew, I was pleased to see that the father seemed more interested in the child and spent extra time in the nursery. I also noticed that the mother seemed to resent the time he spent there. This seemed strange to me. I assumed she would want her husband to have a good relationship with his son.

Despite my training to notice detail, I missed that the mother's resentment was actually jealousy. Since I was no beauty, it never occurred to me that she could see me as a possible rival. As she became sharp with me and found fault in everything I did, I wondered why. What was I doing wrong?

One day, just before her son's third birthday, she called me into the area of the house where guests were received. Mother was sitting in a chair. When I entered, she rose gracefully and gave me a hug.

"It is time for you to come home, daughter," she said softly.

"Is something wrong? Is father sick?" I asked.

Before mother could answer, a maid came into the room carrying a small sack. She took it to my mistress. "Here are her things," she said.

Her eyes were puffy as though she had been crying. I reached out for the bag. When I took it, I touched her arm briefly. "Are you okay?" I whispered. 

She simply nodded. "Goodbye. I'll miss you." She turned and fled from the room. She had been my closest friend in this house. I realized that she mourned my leaving.

Mother and I made our exit. I did not even get to go upstairs and tell my young friend goodbye. As we left, an old woman was coming up the walk. "I imagine that is your replacement," Mother said. "I will explain in a minute. Wait until we are away from prying ears."

Once we were home, mother had me stand in front of her and turn slowly. "You are becoming a young woman," she said. "You are gaining curves in all of the right places. Has the master of the house been spending more time than usual in the nursery?"

"Yes. Since the child has learned to talk, he has taken a greater interest in him."

"I suspect that it is not only his child he has taken an interest in."

"Mother!"

"You have a very comely body. Even if the father's only interest is his son, the mother is not so certain. She suspects that he is interested in you. That is why she has replaced you with an old one."

"But, I am not beautiful like you."

"Perhaps your face does not turn heads, but you have a beauty, daughter. It shines from inside, just as your father's handsomeness does."

Although I missed the little boy I had come to love, I enjoyed the next few months. Mother and I worked side by side. My training in the healing arts became the focus, since I had just begun to learn when I was sent away as a nanny. Father came and sat and talked with me during the heat of the day when most activity ceased for a time.

"I missed you," he told me simply.

Not long after returning home, the sign that womanhood had overtaken me came with searing pain, overpowering nausea, and faintness. Mother nursed me through the days of agony and assured me that each time the blight came, it would be less intense. She told me that the commencement of this, the woman's curse, was a sign that the implementation of my fate was close at hand. Thus, it was a thing to be revered rather than reviled. I wasn't so sure. I simply gritted my teeth and bore the pain.

After I completed my third cycle, her words, as usual, proved prophetic. While my stomach was sore, the accompanying queasiness and weakness was gone. I no longer snarled at anyone who came near me. I could hum, content with my female lot in life – until the night came that tore my world apart. I was preparing for bed, humming softly to myself. As I lay upon my sleeping pallet, mother came softly to my side.

"Tomorrow is the day, Subira," she said quietly. "You have prepared patiently. I have taught you all I can. Now it is time for your journey toward prophetic fulfillment to begin. The pain you have felt as you entered womanhood is minor compared to the heartache that awaits. On the morrow, I will take you to the slave trader, Amenhote. He prepares to take slaves to the Hebrew King Herod. I have sold you to him as a serving girl in Herod's court. What I presage for you there is murky at best. You are to use the senses I taught you and await the opportunity to be of service to an infant king. The fates have not chosen to reveal the identity of the child, only that you must be in the evil king's court to complete the task for which you were born. Thoth  informed me that your heart will tell you when the time to act has come. I go with you in spirit only. Your heart will break over this new separation, as will that of your father, but this task you must do alone."

"But, Mother, why would the god of wisdom send me in search of an infant king in the land of the Hebrews?" I asked, my voice filled with agony. "Why does an Egyptian deity concern himself with a foreign king? Must I really go into exile as a slave?"

"I do not have the answers you want, child. When I pray to Thoth, he sends me visions of the unknown god with the head of a ram, clothed in a strange, striped, seamless garment. The ram shrinks until it is only a lamb lying in a manger, its sad eyes begging for help. You lift the god and bring him to Egypt for safety," mother retold the story I had heard many times over the years.

This time a new curiosity surfaced in my mind. "Who is this unknown god?"

"I would that I knew." Mother sighed. "I have seen a stone statue like the one in my vision, once. I was in Alexandria. There is a great center of learning there. Statues of many gods adorn the paths and are set in recesses in the walls. One was a small stone statue like the god who comes in my dreams. He is identified only as the unknown god. No one knows who carved him or from whence he came. The statue is very old, so old that its identity is lost. It seems to predate all other known gods."

"And I must be a slave to serve this unknown god?"

"Yes, Peep, you must. The gods withheld this bit of the prophecy from me until you attained womanhood. From conception they have filled my head with the knowledge that you were destined to come to the aid of an infant king. Although no details were revealed, I was content to prepare you. Perhaps Thoth knew that I might quash what I divined if I knew too much about how it would come to pass. Most of what will transpire is still obscure. I know only that I must sell you. This court where you are bound has a foul reputation. Its King is said to be mad. He killed his family to solidify his claim to the throne. I can only assume that an infant king is in danger from him. Perhaps you are to save this baby king so that his descendants will ally with Egypt. Perchance he is to revive worship of this unknown god. Whatever the purpose, you must embrace your destiny."

And so I did.