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Authors: Angela Hunt

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BOOK: Dreamers
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past? Yosef had been the love of her youth, the boy who taught

her to lift her hopes above slavery, the man who taught her to

dream. But love, genuine love, existed in the king who had

given her a son, the heart that brought her lotus blossoms and

called her friend.

His hand traveled up her back, and Tuya tilted her head to

study his face. Had her infatuation for Yosef caused Tuthmo-

sis much grief? She suspected he knew far more than he

revealed, yet his was a trusting soul. Even knowing that she

and Yosef shared a past, he was brave enough to trust Yosef

as vizier, and loving enough to allow Tuya to spend time with

Yosef and Amenhotep.

“Beloved husband—” she wrapped her arms about his

slender waist “—I accept your love with gratitude and freely

give mine in return. You are a good king and a wise man.” She

flushed as a wave of warmth swept through her. “God blessed

me when he brought me to you. May he preserve you while

we are apart.”

“Love of my heart,” Tuthmosis answered, his lips moving

over her cheek with exquisite tenderness, “I’m half returned

even before I go.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

The sun sank toward a cloud-bank piled deep on the west-

ern horizon as the royal company reclined in the shadow of

their tents and recounted the day’s adventures. They had been

away from Thebes a full month, and among their hunting

trophies were scores of antelope, oryx and gazelles. On this

day Pharaoh had shot and killed a lion with his golden bow,

and already the men were composing songs to praise their

divine king’s skill and talent. “Even the lion knows his god

Pharaoh,” they sang, their voices rising in the wilderness.

“He stands and awaits the golden arrow of his king.”

But this hunt lacked the thrill of the chase, for the famine

that had turned Egypt to dust had also wasted the African

wilderness. Not a trace of green could be found. Even the wiry

bushes in the gorges were as desiccated as the mummies of

men dead a thousand years. The act of killing was a mercy,

for the gazelle and the antelope had no grass to graze. The lion

had been sleek and fat, but in time even the king of beasts

would be unable to find prey. Only the vultures that fed on

carrion would thrive during the famine.

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Pharaoh sat by the fire, his eyes fixed on nothing, his

thoughts a thousand miles away. Narmer pressed his lips

together. The pensive look on the king’s face could only mean

that he had grown weary of the hunt and would want to return

to Thebes. Tuthmosis loved hunting, but found little joy in

pursuing skeletal animals with barely enough strength to outrun

the chariots. He had enjoyed pursuing the lion, but as much as

Pharaoh loved the chase, he also revered wild creatures. He

would not want to take another of those magnificent beasts.

Time to present Pharaoh with the ultimate challenge.

“They say,” Narmer said, nodding casually to his king, “that

south of us is a place of great trees with timber enough to build

a house for every man in the world.”

“I have heard of this place,” Pharaoh said, looking up. A

gleam of interest flickered in his eye. “But we have not left

Thebes to hunt for timber.”

“No, but another animal lurks in these forests,” Narmer

went on, fingering the Gold of Praise about his neck. “Ele-

phants. Thousands of them. And on each bull’s snout rests a

king’s ransom in ivory.”

Pharaoh stared into the fire. “I have seen pictures of these

elephants. They are slow, lazy creatures.”

Narmer allowed his mouth to twist into an indulgent smile.

“I have heard they are the greatest challenge a man can face.

They say manhood is proved or lost when a hunter faces an

elephant bull.”

As Narmer had hoped he would, Pharaoh took up the chal-

lenge. “I had thought to return to Thebes tomorrow,” he said,

looking at the trusted warriors who awaited his instruction. “But

we have strength enough for one more journey, don’t we? We

shall find this grove of great timber, and ride without fear into

a herd of these creatures. And I shall bring home twin tusks of

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an elephant bull—one I shall offer to Zaphenath-paneah’s

Almighty God, and the other to Queen Tuya, mother of our

crown prince.”

“As you wish, my king,” Narmer said.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Tuya sat up in the darkness and winced as if her flesh had been

nipped. A dream, a horrible nightmare had disturbed the peace

of her sleep, and her skin crawled with the memory of it.

She lay back down and turned onto her stomach, clinging to

the soft darkness as hard as she could, but sleep would not

return. Finally Tuya rose from the bed, wrapped herself in a light

mantle, and crept out of the bedchamber. Moving to the front

hall of her quarters, she pulled a cord and rang for her servant.

Within moments the maid stood in the room, her eyes

heavy-lidded from sleep. “Quietly—” Tuya kept her voice low

“—run to the vizier’s house. Tell him Tuya summons him, and

the matter is of great importance.”

The girl nodded, then slipped out into the corridor. Tuya

sat and rubbed her hands together, trying to banish worry

from her mind. Yosef would know the meaning of this dream.

And, being Yosef, he would know how to prevent the disaster

it foretold.

At the sound of a quick step in the corridor, Mutemwiya

darted into the shadows. She had grown lonely without

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Narmer’s company and sought to invite sleep by walking

through the palace’s torchlit halls. On a perverse whim, she

had turned into the hall that led to Tuya’s modest chambers.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized Tuya’s

servant in the hall, then her curiosity roused. For what reason

had Tuya summoned her handmaid in the darkest hour of the

night? Had she taken ill? Or did she entertain a guest in

Pharaoh’s absence?

Scarcely daring to hope, Mutemwiya slipped from her

hiding place and followed the slave girl. When the servant

turned, a question in her eyes, Mutemwiya gave her a brilliant

smile. “Do not fear,” she said, her voice echoing in the empty

hall. “Is Queen Tuya well?”

The girl’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

“Then she must have need of something. Is there some-

thing I can get for her from my rooms?”

“I think not.” The girl twisted her hands. “I have an

errand to run.”

Mutemwiya lost her patience. “Speak, slave, and tell me

what errand you are on.” She gave the girl a brittle smile. “If

you do not tell the truth, I will tell the guards I found you

stealing from my room. You will spend the rest of your days

in Pharaoh’s prison—”

The maid lowered her voice to a whisper. “Lady Tuya has

sent me for the vizier. That’s all I know.”

Stunned, Mutemwiya let the girl slip away. Why would the

vizier be called at this hour? Was Tuya responding to some

secret communication from the king? No, for if anyone

brought word from the hunting party, she would have heard

from Narmer. Why, then, would Queen Tuya want the vizier

and send an inconspicuous handmaid for him under the cover

of darkness? Mutemwiya slipped toward a hiding place

among the pillars in the corridor. Like the cobra who sits

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motionless until the mama bird hops away from its nest, she

would wait and see what this night brought to pass. Better yet,

she would summon a royal scribe to witness this midnight

liaison—no. A priest. One with power and authority, a man

whose honor might easily be offended…

Quickening her step, Mutemwiya pressed through the halls

and hurried toward the temple of Osiris.

Tuya wrapped her mantle closer as she hurried to answer

the rap on the door. Yosef stood there with her slave, his wig

askew, his face unpainted and strangely drawn in the dim

light. He greeted her in a terse voice: “Is Amenhotep well?”

“Yes—I mean, no. I don’t know.” She dismissed the slave

with a distracted wave and pulled Yosef inside. When the

door had closed behind him, she turned toward the single

candle in the room so he would not see the fear in her eyes.

“Forgive me for pulling you from your family, but I have

suffered much this night on account of a dream.”

“I thought you did not believe in them.”

“How can I not believe?” she answered, wiping a tear from

her eyes. “I saw Pharaoh’s dream come to pass. Your dreams,

as grandiose as they were, have been fulfilled. And now I

stand before you half-blind with terror that the events of my

dream might come to pass…”

She heard him move to the chair; the wood creaked as he

lowered his strong frame into it. “Tell me, Tuya,” he urged.

“God speaks through dreams. He is trying to speak to you.”

Tuya wondered if her fragile soul could bear to relive the

black vision, but she took a deep breath. “I am walking along

the banks of the Nile,” she said, not looking at Yosef. “Bundles

of dry rushes are burning on the watch fires. It is dark, but the

flames leap up and push the darkness back so I can see clearly.”

“What do you see?”

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Tuya shook her head. “I do not understand why, but Amen-

hotep is a baby again, and in my arms. Pharaoh walks beside

me, his hand holding the edge of my skirt.”

She paused, feeling foolish. “I suppose it is quite silly. You

must think me a coward.”

“Never,” Yosef answered. “Go on, please.”

Tuya turned to face him. “There are crocodiles in the water,

and they begin to advance toward me. One has his eyes fastened

on the baby, and the other snaps his jaws toward Pharaoh.”

She broke off and sat on the edge of a chair. “I’m sorry I

summoned you, Yosef. It is probably nothing but a childish

nightmare, brought on by the fact that Pharaoh is away. But

something urged me to fetch you.”

“Go on, Tuya,” Yosef said, his eyes wide. “Please.”

She pressed her lips together and struggled to maintain her

composure. “The rest is too awful, I hesitate to speak it. The

land grows dark, but the flames of the watch fires dance in

the wind while streams of sparks whirl off into the darkness.

I scream and try to shield Yosef as best I can, but while I am

struggling to run from the first crocodile, the second lunges

toward Pharaoh…and drags him into the Nile.”

She shuddered at the memory. “That’s when I awakened.”

She sat silent, waiting for Yosef to assure her that the vision

meant nothing. But he who had never been at a loss for words

met her curious glance with astonished silence.

“I have had this same dream,” he said, his voice trembling.

“But not in many months. God has not spoken to me this time,

Tuya, but to you.”

“But what does it mean?”

His eyes veiled with sorrow. “You don’t need me to tell you.”

She sat motionless as the full meaning of his words sank

into her mind, then she pressed her hands to her knees and

bowed in despair. “Is there nothing we can do? You saw the

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coming famine and you urged Pharaoh to prepare for it! I see

my beloved Tuthmosis dying, but if I can stop him—”

“The famine came.” Yosef lowered his head into his hands.

“And God was merciful, for we were prepared. What you have

seen will come to pass, Tuya. In his mercy, God urges you to

prepare for it.”

He looked at her with weariness while Tuya floundered in

a gulf of despair. “Why,” she whispered, lifting tear-blurred

eyes to his, “when I have just begun to love him as he ought

to be loved?”

Yosef stood and rested his hand on her head. “Take heart

in God’s mercy,” he said, genuine remorse in his voice. “Take

courage in God’s love. He has shown you what is to come and

urges you to be ready.”

“For what? Loneliness and suffering? I have already

walked with those companions. I know them well enough to

understand that the pain of losing someone never goes away.”

“No, it doesn’t. But you must be ready for your son’s sake.

In the dream, the baby remained in your arms. Amenhotep

will need you when Pharaoh is gone.”

“Oh, my dear baby,” she whispered, staring past the lamp

at the elongated shadows on the wall. “You will be a young

and vulnerable pharaoh.”

Mutemwiya waited until the vizier left Tuya’s chamber and

then turned wide eyes on Chike, the high priest of Osiris. “I

thought to have you offer a blessing for Queen Tuya, who cannot

sleep. But apparently our Tuya meets with our vizier this night.”

Chike’s aged eyes peered at the vizier’s retreating form. “It

is an odd time for a meeting.”

“Isn’t it,” Mutemwiya murmured. “I am sorry I have dis-

turbed you, Chike, but I only wanted to be of service to our

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