Magic of the Nile (26 page)

Placing her hand on Sahure’s arm once more, his childhood friend pouted prettily, the red ocher on her plump lips calling attention to the perfection of her face. “I thought you’d make an exception for me. Well then, if you’re going to be so stubborn and proper, I’ll accept a stroll along the Nile, here in Pharaoh’s garden.”

“Don’t linger on my account,” Tyema said, although her heart was lightened by the information that only she had been invited into Sahure’s chariot and equally pleasing was the knowledge he’d taught her to drive. “We’ll be returning to my suite for the rest of the afternoon.”

“We’ll see you at dinner?” Nidiamhet asked.

The thought of another interminable meal with the courtiers was suddenly overwhelming to Tyema. “No,” she said, reaching a sudden decision and feeling much better as she did so. “I must pray in solitude this evening, offer my thoughts to the god in preparation for his blessing on the procession and ceremonies tomorrow.”
Hopefully Sobek can forgive one lie from me. I swear to dedicate all my time to finding the sorcerer after the day of the procession, no matter what it takes. And then I can go home.

“Can you find your way back to your rooms?” Sahure asked, resisting Baufratet’s tug at his arm.

“Of course I can, I’m not a child.” Instantly Tyema regretted her undignified flash of temper.

Someone giggled. Nidiamhet raised her eyebrows but smoothed her expression when she saw Tyema glance at her. Sahure shrugged, lowering his head to listen to whatever Baufratet wished to say to him.

Tyema made herself walk slowly up the flight of broad stairs to the palace, holding her son close and nuzzling his hair, breathing in his sweet baby scent. Her niece and the scribe came behind her.

“There were some messages today, from the temple, sent by carrier pigeon,” Jemkhufu said. He fumbled with his leather satchel. “I’ve got the most urgent ones right here.”

“Not now,” Tyema answered.
 

Renebti pulled at her arm. “I’m sorry if you’re displeased, Aunt. The women came to our rooms after lunch, laughing and chattering and demanding to see the baby. Lady Baufratet said the queen had been talking about how sweet he was—”

“My son is
not
to be taken out of our rooms again, unless I’ve given my permission, do I make myself clear?”

“Of course, Aunt.” Her niece bit her lip, unshed tears making her eyes shine. Wrapped in her anger, Tyema was beyond worrying about Renebti’s feelings.

She was crisper than usual with her scribe. “The day after tomorrow, we can talk about these messages and any other temple business. I’ll ask Edekh to set aside an office for us to use at midmorning.”

“Will you need me tomorrow?” he asked.

She shook her head. Feeling a bit guilty, she said, “I hope they’re taking good care of you, as far as lodgings?”

He nodded. “The surroundings are grand here, quite congenial. A man could get spoiled.”

“I’m glad you like it in Thebes.”
Since I may try to get you transferred to the temple here and not have you return to Ta’sobeksef with us.
Perhaps she was being unfair; she knew she needed to give Jemkhufu a chance to answer Sahure’s charges regarding interference with their mail, but in her heart she knew Sahure was right. And trust, once broken, was impossible to restore.

Leaving the scribe to find his own way wherever he’d been assigned a room, Tyema and Renebti walked to their suite. As she sank down on the bed and opened her dress to allow the baby to nurse, Tyema closed her eyes and leaned back, suddenly exhausted. Her arms and legs felt as if they’d turned to marble and it was an effort to stay awake.

“I’m sorry to have upset you,” her niece said, wringing her hands. “I didn’t know how to refuse their request to take him outside. The Court ladies are so arrogant and self assured, and they serve the queen. I didn’t want to cause trouble.”

“It’s all right, I hadn’t thought to tell you I didn’t want him in company.” Tyema patted the side of the bed with her free hand. “Come, sit, tell me how the conversation went with your high born companions.”

Bringing her a cup of water, Renebti had her brow furrowed in thought. “Most of them admired the baby, wanted to play with him, especially Lady Nidiamhet. Lady Baufratet asked a lot of questions about you, who the baby’s father is, about Lord Sahure’s time in our nome. I told her I didn’t know anything about his visit. I certainly never met him.”

“Good. We have gossips like her at home,” Tyema said, striving for a light tone, although she wasn’t at all pleased to know the woman tried to wheedle personal information out of her unsophisticated niece. “The less a nosy woman knows, the better.”

“Well, she stopped pestering me and started batting her eyes at your scribe after that,” Renebti said with palpable satisfaction.

And what did he tell her, I wonder? If she’s the sorceress, she might have been able to loosen his tongue. But no, apparently she didn’t try any spells on Renebti. Probably just batted those malachite-and-kohl rimmed eyes at my scribe and got him to reveal anything she asked.
Wishing she had a better knowledge of how black magic was wielded, Tyema dropped a kiss on Seknehure’s cheek. She blew kisses on his tummy, much to his chortling delight. Half her thoughts were of Jemkhufu, more than ever convinced he’d served his last day as scribe of her temple.

***

“Are you ready for this?” Sahure asked as he entered her chamber bright and early the next morning.

Tyema swallowed hard and nodded. “As ready as I can be, with nothing to compare the experience to. After the planning meeting day before yesterday with Pharaoh, I’m sure our little celebrations back in Ta’sobeksef don’t begin to compare to what’s going to happen.”

He nodded but allowed the comment to pass. “How’s your voice today? Ready to sing?”

She shrugged. “Yes, I practiced in the garden for a short time, at dawn, asking Sobek to bless the day and make the crocodile obey my will. The animals always do, but today would be an especially bad time for the gift to leave me.”

He stepped aside so Renebti and one of the queen’s own maids, on loan to Tyema for the morning, could adjust her wig and place the golden sun orb and plumes on her head. Tyema stood still under their ministrations. “I’m only sorry I had to wear the ceremonial dress through Thebes on the first day,” she said. “I’m sure the other celebrants will be much more gloriously attired, and I feel I’m not going to do enough to honor Sobek.”

“I’ve brought you something to address the issue.” Sahure gestured for the servant who had followed him into the room to come forward.

The man placed a large black-and-red woven basket on the table close to Tyema and stepped back.

Puzzled but intrigued, she looked from Sahure to the basket, puzzled. “For me?”

He nodded.

She walked carefully to the table, so as not to disturb her headdress, and lifted the cover from the basket, gasping as she saw what was inside. “Wherever did you get such a marvel?” she asked, lifting a shimmering cloak from the container and allowing the folds to fall open. The cloak was a rich, dark blue in color, made of some sturdy fabric she didn’t recognize. Iridescent feathers had been sewn in a collar at the neckline and in a deep border at the hem. The unadorned areas of fabric were worked with gold thread in a pattern repeating the natural shape of the green, aqua and dark purple feathers. Still clutching the cloak, she said, “It’s amazing.”

“I rescued some prisoners from the enemy when we retook the oasis. As it happened, they were kidnapped royalty from a tribe dwelling far south of the Nile’s birthplace.” Sahure took the cloak from her and draped it over her shoulders, where the fabric, gold thread, and feathers gleamed in the morning light, seeming to glow. He fastened the golden bracelets attached to the cloak at her wrists and upper arms, creating a dramatic silhouette. “Their king was so grateful to have his son and the others arrive home unharmed, he sent me this cloak as a gift. Couriers delivered the basket to me at the oasis just before I was summoned back to Thebes so I brought the cloak home, hoping I might have a chance to present it to you. I’d left it at my family’s estate outside the city, with the rest of my gear and belongings. My errand yesterday was driving out to fetch this so you could have it today. You like it?”

“I’ve never seen anything so gorgeous.” Tyema rubbed her chin on the downy soft feathers at the neckline and stroked along the grain of the rows of larger feathers ornamenting the opening of the cloak. “But should I have it? Should it perhaps have gone to the queen?”

Sahure leaned close, so only she could hear his words. “The gift was to me, personally, not to Egypt. And I’ll give it to you or no one.”
 

Blinking back tears, afraid to ruin her elegant eye makeup, she said, “Sobek isn’t a god of the sky.”

“But you sing like a bird on his behalf,” Sahure answered.

“It’s so beautiful, Aunt Ema,” her niece said, touching the feathers delicately.

Tyema kissed Sahure lightly on the cheek and squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

He just nodded, stepping aside to let her precede him. “We’d better go. It won’t do for you to arrive after Pharaoh.”

“Oh no,” she said with a gasp, speeding up her pace.

“I was teasing.” He laughed, slowing her down again. “Edekh will ensure Pharaoh doesn’t appear until the entire procession is in readiness, don’t worry. He’s the master of protocol and excels at the task, as he does with everything in his purview.”

The procession was lined up alongside the palace, partly, Tyema supposed, because she had to bring the crocodile from the pond and get him to climb onto his litter. As Sahure escorted her along the line of marchers, she was impressed at how orderly and matter of fact the marchers were. The acrobats behind the heralds who led off the parade were doing flips and tumbles to warm up and she watched with delight as a truly spectacular series of tumbling runs played out.

“The temples must do processions often in Thebes,” she said. “I sense little excitement among the celebrants and performers.”

“Indeed, there are always parades for one thing or another,” he agreed.

She bowed her head to acknowledge a polite greeting from Lemertet as she walked by the delegation from Sobek’s Theban temple. Visibly grinding his teeth as he sat in his gilded chair beside Lemertet, the florid-faced High Priest stared at her.

“Jealous of your finery, no doubt,” Sahure said as they paced farther, past the huge effigy of Sobek, ensconced in a cunningly fabricated “boat” of reeds, and then edged around more dancers, busy limbering up.

“Thanks to you. I’d have made a poor showing in the midst of all this glory on my own.” Tyema took a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach.
Once the procession begins, I’ll be fine. This day is all in honor of the god.

Sahure stopped and swung her to face him. “You shine wherever you are, Ema. Never doubt that. My gift only frames your loveliness. And you’re here for Sobek. “

For an aching moment she wanted him to kiss her, to let her take comfort in his strong arms, no matter if they were in public, but then a horse whinnied, breaking the spell. Tyema resumed her stately pace to the crocodile pond.

“Where do they get all these people? Surely the temple of Sobek can’t have such a large staff, not even in Thebes?” she asked after walking by a third troupe of voluptuous dancing women, accompanied by musicians with drums, pipes and small harps.

“Indeed not.” Sahure laughed. “Most are hired for the occasion. At other times they work in the taverns or at the marketplace. Besides the musicians and heralds who serve Pharaoh, almost everyone you see in the procession who isn’t a priest is here for the deben the temple will dispense later.”

“How odd.”

“Not when you think about it. There are many temples here in the capital and a large number of festivals and occasions where pharaoh and other Great Ones must be honored. No one temple could afford to keep this many people on staff. Although some, like the temple of Amun-Re, do have their own company of dancers and keep a high priestess of the dance and a captain of musicians. But even the largest temple hires on additional women to perform for the major festivals.”

Tyema took a deep breath of the morning air. “I can smell the meats being roasted.”

“Pharaoh has authorized quite a feast for the people, later today. Gazelle, ibis, oryx, ducks, many kinds of bread, beer will flow like rivers,” Sahure said. “Can you smell the myrrh in the air as well? The priests from the temple will have been adding it to the sacred incense burning on the temple’s braziers since dawn.”

“Indeed.” Tyema enjoyed the scented air. “These smells are much better than some of the odors assaulting my nose the day we came through Thebes to arrive at the palace.”

Sahure shrugged. “I can admit a big city has its drawbacks as well as its pleasures.”

When they reached the pond, Hotepre and his men were waiting, accompanied by the palace zookeeper.

“They make a fuss over accepting their new crocodile, don’t they, my lady?” Hotepre said with a grin.

Although she felt a pang of regret for not thinking of it herself, Tyema was glad to see someone— probably the tireless Edekh—had outfitted him in a new kilt and tunic, blue with red trim, and a
nemes
to match. He even had new sandals. “Our crocodile is worthy of such attention,” she said. “Shall we get him out of the pond and onto his litter?”