Magic of the Nile (22 page)

The queen laughed. “You notice I offer no jewelry from my husband’s treasury. Sharing my gems would be generosity!”

Edekh reentered the room when Tyema had finished dressing, bringing the fan bearers with him. Tyema was grateful. The chambers were growing stuffy as the sun rose higher in the sky outside. Trying on new clothes was undeniably pleasant but made a person warm in the Theban heat.

The queen’s maid set to work applying Tyema’s makeup with skillful hands, the kohl and malachite tints drawn from a set of beautifully shaped, cobalt blue bottles, with stoppers of ivory carved in the shape of birds and flowers. Once that work was completed Renebti brought the ebony case, inlaid with ivory and turquoise, which bore the treasure of Sobek’s temple— the six emerald Tears he’d given Tyema so long ago. As Renebti raised the lid, kneeling in front of her aunt, the queen stood and came to admire the gems, bouncing the baby on her hip. The tear-shaped raw emeralds were set into a golden collar, surrounded by highly detailed renditions of crocodiles embossed in the gleaming metal. Bigger than a man’s thumb, the largest Tear sat in the center, with one only slightly smaller directly below it, offset on either side by the four remaining gems. As she lifted the collar from the box, the stones threw off green glints to sparkle on the wall and floor, the sun making the gems flash and gleam.

“Magnificent,” Ashayet said, raising one hand to lightly touch the primary stone. “You’re blessed by your god.”

Picking up the necklace to allow Renebti and the maid to fasten it around her neck, Tyema nodded. “He has a special relationship with my temple and our town.”

Ashayet’s face grew somber. “I thank you for coming to Thebes, on your various missions,” she said.

She must be so worried for her husband’s life.
Tyema longed to hug the queen, who had such a troubled expression on her face, but the distance between their respective ranks in society was too vast. “It’s my honor, Great One.”

“Well, I’ll leave you now.” Ashayet smoothed her wig with her free hand. “Good luck with the dyspeptic elderly First Priest. His nose is severely out of joint about all aspects of this ceremony, even as he exults in having the attention of the entire city and Pharaoh, for once. Edekh will conduct you to the meeting chamber and my husband will join you shortly.”

Tyema bowed as the queen gave her son one more kiss on his chubby cheek, disentangling his determined fingers from her elaborate scarab-and-falcon earring. “He does have the features and the persistence of his father,” Ashayet said, laughing.

Somewhat startled, Tyema took the baby from the queen, realizing a moment too late she should be more considerate of her new dress and allow Renebti to hold the baby rather than risk a mishap now. Hoping Seknehure wouldn’t pick that moment to burp his breakfast, she said, “We’ve yet to discuss matters, Sahure and I.”

“You may trust my discretion.” The queen laid a finger on her painted lips for a second. “I’m intrigued to meet the mystery girl who captured his heart, where others vied for the honor and failed. Several of my ladies-in-waiting have their hopes pinned on becoming Mistress of his House. Sahure is known as a man on the rise in my husband’s favor.”

Taking a deep breath, Tyema asked her most pressing question. “Then he—he’s not recently married?”

“Let me put your mind at rest, he remains unwed.” The queen studied Tyema’s face for a moment, brow furrowed. “I trust he took my advice and the letters we forwarded to you on his behalf were more beguiling in tone than his original proposal?”

Amazed how much the Royal Wife seemed to know about her relationship with Sahure, Tyema was at a loss for words.
How much had Sahure said about her to the queen? Or to anyone else in Thebes?

Apparently deciding no answer was to be forthcoming, Ashayet leaned closer. “You’ll find, my dear, most military men have no idea how to play games of true love, once their heart has been given. That his honeyed words and courtier’s airs failed him when he made his rash proposal for you to abandon your own world and trail along in his wake to Thebes is actually a good indication his heart was truly involved. The captain is a favorite of mine. I would see him happy, so I hope you’ll see fit to give him another chance while you’re in Thebes. But be aware there are others intent on the position he wants to give you.”

Not waiting to see what Tyema might reply, the queen left, the fan bearers and maids in her wake.

“Well.” Drawing a deep breath, Tyema addressed the Chief Scribe who had reentered the chamber once the queen had departed. “After all the kindness and advice from her majesty, I feel I’m ready for this meeting.”

“Indeed, I’m sure you are.” He laughed as he opened the door to the corridor.

“Any other words of advice you’d offer me?” Tyema asked as they strolled into the main portion of the palace. “I’m not too proud to listen.”

Edekh shook his head. “I think your power lies in the answer you gave my queen, a few minutes ago in your chambers. You have authority directly from Sobek and require nothing else. Ah, here we are.”
 

Guards opened the doors and Edekh bowed, indicating for her to precede him.

The High Priest of Sobek was easy for Tyema to identify, dressed in layered raiment of white, gold and black, wearing a modified sun-disk headdress, all ten bony fingers adorned with golden rings set with chunky gemstones. He was flanked by five lower priests and a thin, nervous scribe sat close by to record orders. A much older man, the priest had a stern face, small eyes beneath bushy brows, flushed cheeks and thin lips. His wig was elaborately braided and he clutched a tall gilded staff topped with a representation of the god in his crocodile form. His pectoral was a depiction of Sobek as Crocodile, done in turquoise, coral and jet. It was eye catching, but nothing compared to the glory of her gold collar and emeralds.

“Lady Tyema, High Priestess of Sobek in the Ibis Nome,” Edekh intoned, thumping his staff on the floor as if she were royalty.

The under priests bowed but the Theban high priest merely nodded, his eyes fastened on the Tears of Sobek around Tyema’s neck. She suppressed a grin at his avaricious stare.
 

The door across the room, which only Pharaoh himself could use, opened and Nat-re-Akhte entered the chamber, saying as he crossed the gilded threshold, “No need to genuflect, this isn’t a formal audience.” Today he wore no crown but had the golden uraeus on his brow, held in place by a golden circlet. He carried the blue-and-gold crook and flail of his rank, ritually positioned across his chest.

She stood aside as Nat-re-Akhte walked past her to his chair, which was a golden marvel, depicting intricate scenes of himself with various gods that were far too detailed for Tyema to fully absorb in one glance. The chair rested on intricately carved lion paws, and was set on a slightly raised dais at the head of the gleaming wooden table. The ever present fan bearers took up station behind Pharaoh and Edekh walked to a place at his right hand.

“You may be seated,” Pharaoh said, placing the crook and flail on the table in front of him. “Which day is going to be the most propitious for this ceremony?” He gave Tyema a conspiratorial smile. “My zookeeper tells me the beast has already devoured all the fish in his pond and they’ve had to restock.”

“I’ve cast the omens, Great One, and the day after tomorrow is the ideal date for the new ruler of the bask to be presented to the people of Thebes and installed at our temple,” said the High Priest, displaying no hesitation.

Pharaoh nodded and Edekh made a note. Tyema sat back in her chair as the men discussed the arrangements for the procession. The city officials were also silent for the most part, apparently in the meeting to receive instructions, not to make suggestions. She had no opinion about the parade, the local Sobek priests knew their own city and how to organize things here. Perhaps she would have put the second troupe of dancing girls before the sacred image of Sobek, not after as they were going to do, but Tyema had no feeling it mattered to the Crocodile God, so she only nodded when Pharaoh courteously asked her opinion.

The high priest continued his rundown of the sequence of events. “And when we arrive at the temple, I’ll greet you with the hymn of the seventh hour—”

“After I’ve sung the hymn of the Abundant Nile,” Tyema said. She felt a tightening in her gut, sure now they would be in opposition.
He’d rather I played no part in the day’s ceremonies. He probably wishes I’d just sent the crocodile with only old Hotepre for escort. Well, for that matter, so do I, but the Great One wanted it otherwise.

The older priest cleared his throat for a moment, blinking. Clearly he wasn’t used to being interrupted. “No need for you to exert yourself, I’m sure. It’s one of the
older
, less well known hymns after all. You can sing a brief blessing on the bask at the end of the ceremonies, if you wish. Now then, as I was saying—”

“The Great One Sobek particularly enjoys the ‘Abundant Nile’, since it praises his efforts to keep the life giving waters flowing freely,” Tyema said, cutting across his words, her voice clear. “As he is sending his crocodile to you, personally selected by him, we need to thank him appropriately.”

The men from the Theban temple gawked at her. Color becoming even hotter in his gaunt cheeks, the high priest blew out a breath. “My dear girl, we’re duly conscious of the honor the Great One does us here at Thebes. I merely see no need to slow the tempo of the ceremony with additional music. The crowd will naturally wish to see the crocodile installed in the pond as soon as possible.”

“As High Priestess, it’s my responsibility to conduct the crocodile to your temple and to make the official transfer in proper order,” she said, not at all abashed by his dismissive manner. When it came to anything regarding her duty to Sobek, Tyema felt as if some measure of his strength ran in her veins, and no condescending old man from Thebes could silence her. “I’ll sing ‘Abundant Nile,’ after which you can sing whatever you feel is most appropriate to accept the gift of Sobek and
then
we’ll proceed to the pond. Whether our audience is one person or ten thousand people, we must honor the Great One Sobek properly.”

“Well,” Pharaoh said, his voice solemn but his eyes twinkling, “The list of songs is decided then.”

“Duly noted,” Edekh assured him as the palace scribe by his side made rapid inscriptions on his tablet. The temple scribe shot a wary look at his superiors, but then scratched some notes as well.

There was an awkward moment of silence. Pharaoh raised his hand and gestured in a lazy circular motion at the priest. “Continue.”

The man opened and closed his mouth several times before swallowing a sip of wine from the clay goblet his under priest handed him. “Um, yes, um, at the pond, we’ll open the crate—”

“The child of Sobek doesn’t travel through Thebes in a crate,” Tyema interrupted.

“You’re not seriously proposing to have a dangerous Nile crocodile carried loose in the procession, are you?” the old man spluttered.

“Sobek has given me the gift of controlling his children of the Nile when circumstances warrant. I’ll ensure the animal remains calm during the parade through the city, docile until he’s installed in the pond,” Tyema said.
 

“I’ve seen this gift or power in action, exactly as the Lady Tyema indicates,” Pharaoh agreed.

“It would be most exciting,” said one of the younger priests, enthusiasm causing him to speak boldly, earning himself a glare from the High Priest. “Imagine the effect on the crowds, the crocodile on full display, yet posing no danger.”

“Sobek has selected a magnificent animal to rule over your bask,” Tyema said. “The beast has the rare purple underbelly. It can only benefit your temple to have the people of Thebes behold this marvelous creature, not have him hidden away in a crate.”

“Consequences will be on your head if this goes awry, if the beast causes injury,” the old priest said, his eyes flashing in anger. He bit his lip and glanced at Pharaoh, seeming to regret his outburst.

Tyema laid a hand on the collar, touching the emeralds. “Where’s your faith in Sobek, the god we both serve?”

“Any other concerns?” Pharaoh asked the high priest, his tone mild.

“No, Great One. I’m satisfied with the arrangements,” he said, sounding as if he was forcing the words out one by one.

“I’ll need to inspect the pond,” Tyema said, tapping her fingers on the table as she mentally reviewed her list of requirements. “I’m sure all your arrangements are in order, but I can’t bring Sobek’s gift to you with all the pomp and ceremony, only to find some problem in front of Pharaoh and the crowds.”

Now she thought the old priest was going to have a full-on fit, especially as Pharaoh was nodding agreement with her. “Excellent forethought, Lady Tyema,” the ruler said. “Captain Sahure can conduct you and your crocodile keeper to the temple tomorrow morning, leaving the afternoon for any repairs or alterations to be made. On the appointed day, the palace will provide the usual beer, bread and meat for the afternoon feasting after the procession in honor of Sobek. Edekh will see to the distribution.” He rose, signaling the end of the meeting, and swept out of the chamber.

Edekh remained, moving closer to Tyema as the high priest came around the table at her. Shaking a finger in her face, the man talked so fast he was spitting. “There’s nothing wrong with my temple’s pond, girl, and I don’t appreciate your trying to embarrass me in front of Pharaoh by suggesting there is.”