Nefertiti (17 page)

Amunhotep flinched. “I was raised here,” he said, “with my grandfather’s discarded treasure and unwanted wives.”

The servants unloaded the ships, and chariots were brought so that Pharaoh and his court could ride the short distance to the palace. Thousands of Egyptians pressed together in the streets, throwing petals, waving branches, and chanting the royals’ names until the sound grew so loud it deafened the noise of horses and chariots.

Amunhotep swelled with the people’s new love.

“They adore you,” Nefertiti said in his ear.

“Bring me two chests of gold!” Amunhotep shouted, but the viziers couldn’t hear him above the horses and cheering crowds. He motioned to Panahesi, who halted the chariots. Then he shouted a second time, “Two chests of gold!”

Panahesi dismounted from his chariot and ran back to the barge. He returned with seven guards and two chests, and when the people realized what was about to happen they grew wild in the streets.

“For the glory of Egypt!” Amunhotep took handfuls of deben and tossed them. There was a momentary silence, then Egyptians swelled around him, their chanting growing animallike. Nefertiti tossed back her head and laughed, taking handfuls of rings herself, tossing them to the people.

Crowds began running after the king’s chariot, and Horemheb’s soldiers blocked their passage with their spears. When we passed through the gates of the palace, the mob had grown uncontrollable. There were thousands now, but the chests were empty. “They want more!” Nefertiti shouted, seeing women hurl themselves at the gate.

“Then give it to them!” Amunhotep cried. A third chest was brought, but my father raised his arm.

“Is this wise, Your Highness?” He looked directly at Nefertiti. “The people will
kill
each other in the streets.”

Panahesi stepped forward. “I say bring a fourth chest, Your Majesty. They will love you.”

Amunhotep laughed jubilantly. “A fourth!” he cried.

A fourth chest was brought to join the third and debens of gold were scattered over the gates. Horemheb shouted orders to his men, telling them to arrest any citizen or slave who attempted to scale the walls.

“They’re fighting!” I gripped my mother’s sheath in horror.

“Yes.” Amunhotep smiled. “But they will know that I love them.” He strode from the gardens into the halls of the palace, servants trailing on his heels.

My father said angrily, “You cannot buy the people’s love. They will come to disdain you.”

Amunhotep stopped walking and Nefertiti reached out in a conciliatory gesture, putting a hand on his arm. “My father’s right. There is such a thing as too much.”

Panahesi sidled up to him. “But the people will be talking about the Great Pharaoh Amunhotep for months.”

Amunhotep ignored my father’s concern. “Take us to our rooms!” he commanded, and we were shown to our new chambers.

As always, Pharaoh’s chamber was in the center of the palace. Nefertiti’s clothes were brought into his rooms, and although the Memphis servants stared wide-eyed, the Malkata servants knew better. Vizier Panahesi and my parents were placed in a courtyard to the left of the king, and I was to Nefertiti’s right in a separate chamber, divided only by a short hall. The standing army of nearly three thousand men would arrive in ten days and be housed in their own quarters, rooms just outside the palace but behind its walls. Of the soldiers who’d journeyed with us, nearly two hundred of them had died on the ships.

In my new room in the king’s courtyard, I stared at my gilded bed with its carved images of Bes, the dwarf god of protection, who would keep away demons. The room was large, with plump feathered cushions in every corner and brightly glazed pottery on low cedar chests. The ceiling was held up by columns in the shape of lotus blossoms, and in a corner Ipu was already rearranging my belongings. She had seen how I’d placed my herb box in a cool corner of my room in Malkata and had done the same, even going through the trouble of hanging up the amber-colored leaves of myrrh the way I had, to sweeten the chamber. She hummed as she worked, and Nefertiti appeared in my doorway, smiling.

“Come see this,” she said. She hooked my arm in hers and led me into the royal chamber. She stood back, grinning, and I gasped.

I would never see another room like it. It was exquisitely tiled and painted, furnished with gold statues honoring the most powerful Egyptian gods. From a wide, arching window, it was possible to see the manicured palace gardens and a tree-lined avenue sloping down to the Nile. There was a room for wigs that was scented with lotus, and an entire chamber where Merit could work. I went into this second room, where everything was laid out in preparation: pellets of incense for under the arms, hair curlers, tweezers, jars of perfume, and pots of kohl already mixed with date palm oil. A hand mirror had been cleverly carved into the shape of an ankh and makeup chests filled every available space. Every lamp was inlaid with ivory and obsidian.

Amunhotep sat in the corner, watching my expression. “Does the Sister of the King’s Chief Wife approve?” he asked, standing and taking Nefertiti’s arm so that she had to let go of mine. “You’re the first person your sister ran to get.”

I bowed. “It is beautiful, Your Highness.”

He sat down and pulled Nefertiti onto his lap. She laughed, and indicated that I should sit across from them. She said merrily, “Tomorrow the builder, Maya, is going to begin the temple.”

I sat. “To Aten?”

“Of course to Aten,” Amunhotep snapped. “On the twenty-sixth of Pachons, the army will begin collecting taxes from the priests. On the first of Payni, we build. Once the temple is finished, we won’t need the high priests.
We
will become the high priests.” He turned to my sister in triumph. “You and I…and the gods will speak though us.”

I recoiled. This was blasphemy.

But Nefertiti said nothing and avoided my gaze.

Dinner in the Great Hall was chaotic. Though the chamber was the same as it had been in Thebes, confusion turned the towering hall into a commotion of rushing people that I’d only ever seen the likes of in the marketplace. Servants were bowing to scribes and snubbing courtiers because they hadn’t learned the faces of the Theban nobility. Only a few of Egypt’s viziers were in attendance, and even Panahesi was absent, probably still seeing to his robes and his rooms. Women came up to thank me for my herbs, women I had never seen before, and they all wanted to know if I would continue to carry acacia, adding that they would be willing to pay me for it, and the raspberry leaves if I would continue to provide them.

“You should do it,” Ipu encouraged me. “I could fetch any herbs for you at the quay. You might not have a garden, but if you told me what you needed…”

I thought a moment. It wouldn’t just be acacia and raspberry. The women had asked for other herbs, too. Safflower oil for muscle pain and healthy hair, fig and willow for toothache, myrrh for healing. I could harvest some of those from my potted plants, but Ipu would have to find me the rest. “All right,” I said hesitantly.

“And will you charge for them?”

“Ipu!” I gasped.

But she continued to stare at me. “The women in Pharaoh’s harem charge for the linen that they weave. And your father does not work for free simply because he works for the royal family.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “I might charge.”

She smiled, pulling out my chair. “I will be back with your food, my lady.”

My parents were in attendance at the royal table. Nefertiti would eat with Amunhotep at the top of the dais from now on, overseeing the entire hall. And tonight, because there was no arranged seating, the architect, Maya, sat with us beneath the Horus thrones. He and his wife looked cut from the same cloth, both tall Egyptians with watchful eyes.

“Pharaoh wishes to begin building a temple to Aten,” Maya said warningly, and my father exhaled.

“He has said as much to you?”

The architect looked nervously over his shoulder. Nefertiti and Amunhotep regarded the proceedings with apathy, more interested in their talk of temples and taxes, and Maya lowered his voice. “Yes. And in two days’ time, the army begins collecting taxes from the temples of Amun.”

“The priests will not gladly hand over what has been theirs for centuries,” my father said vehemently.

“Then Pharaoh will kill them,” Maya replied.

“He has ordered this?”

The greatest architect in Egypt nodded solemnly.

My father stood up, pushing his chair from the table. “The Elder must be warned.” He swept from the Audience Chamber with my mother on his heels, and for the first time the royal couple on the dais noticed something outside of themselves. Nefertiti beckoned me toward the thrones with her finger.

“Where has Father gone?” she demanded.

“He has heard that you intend on building soon,” I said carefully. “He has gone to make preparations to clear the way.”

Amunhotep settled back into his throne. “I have chosen correctly in your father,” he said to Nefertiti. “Once every seven days,” he decided, “we will hold court in the Audience Chamber. The rest of the time we shall let Ay deal with foreign emissaries and petitioners.”

My sister glanced approvingly at me.

Chapter Ten

MEMPHIS

twenty-fifth of Pachons

ON MY FIRST morning in Memphis, my father and Nefertiti slipped into my room and shut the door. Ipu, who slept across the hall as both my servant and my guard, remained sleeping soundly.

I scrambled from beneath my covers. “What’s happening?”

“From now on, this is where we meet,” my father said. Nefertiti took a seat on my bed and I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

“Why here?”

“Because Panahesi is in the same courtyard as Father, and if I make a habit of visiting, he will make a habit of sending spies.”

I looked around the room. “Where’s Mother?”

My father sat himself down. “At the baths.”

Apparently, she wasn’t to be included in our meetings. Just as well. She would only spend nights sitting up worrying.

“Tomorrow, Amunhotep begins collecting taxes from the temples,” my father said, “and we will need a plan if it all goes wrong.”

I sat forward. “If what goes wrong?”

“If Horemheb turns on Pharaoh and the priests revolt,” my sister said shortly.

I felt fear rising in my throat. “But why would that happen?”

Nefertiti ignored me.

“If it goes wrong tomorrow,” my father decided, “everyone in this family will meet behind the Temple of Amun. Take chariots from the north of the palace, where the gates are unguarded, and ride them to the docks. If the army turns, they will storm the palace from the south. At the water steps, a ship will be ready to set sail. If Pharaoh has been killed, we will return to Thebes.”

Nefertiti’s gaze flew to the door, to be sure no one was listening. “And if he hasn’t?” she asked, her voice dropping.

“Then we all go by ship.”

“And what if he won’t come?”

“Then you must leave without him.” My father’s voice was stern. “Because he will be marked and will not live to see the night.”

I shivered, and even Nefertiti seemed disturbed. “
If
it goes wrong,” she repeated. “There is no indication that it will.”