Nefertiti (31 page)

Peret, Season of Growing

THE ROYAL BARGES were readied for the journey south. Panahesi and Kiya were given their own boat, the
Dazzling Aten
, in which to sail. I stood on the quay and asked my sister how Akhenaten would know the right spot for the building.

“Obviously, it will be near the Nile,” she snapped. “Between Memphis and Thebes on land upon which no other Pharaoh has built.”

She was angry with me because I’d refused to go, and my father hadn’t made me.

As the barges set sail, the king’s pennants with images of Aten whipped back and forth in the wind. Hundreds of soldiers and workers were going. They’d be left in the desert to begin building Amarna. I waved at Nefertiti from the quay and she stared back, refusing to raise her hand to me. When the barges slipped over the horizon, I went into the gardens, wondering about seeds. Gardens for the new city would have to be started…

A palace worker watched me from the shade beneath a sycamore. “May I help you, my lady?” The old man came over, his kilt stained with soil. His nails were full of earth. A true gardener. “You are the Sister of the King’s Chief Wife,” he said. “The one the women go to for remedies.”

I glanced at in him surprise. “How did you—”

“I have seen the herbs you grow in pots,” he admitted. “They are all medicinal.”

I nodded. “Yes. Once in a while women come to me for help.”

He smiled, as if he knew that it was more than once in a while; that sometimes different women came six and seven times a day for the plants that Ipu procured for me in the markets. My pots weren’t big enough to fit all the herbs I would’ve like to have planted, but she found the rest among the busy vendors on the quay. I looked across the royal gardens and sighed. There would be no green in the wide stretch of desert between Thebes and Memphis. And who knew how long it would be before markets sprang up that would sell raspberry leaf or acacia? I looked down at the goldenrods and moringa. In Amarna, there would be only weeds and tamarisk plants for company. “May I take some cuttings with me when I go?”

“To the new city of Amarna, my lady?”

I stood back, to get a better look at this servant. “You hear a lot in these gardens.”

The old man shrugged. “The general likes to walk here at times and we talk together.”

“General Nakhtmin?” I asked quickly.

“Yes. He comes from the barracks, my lady.” He turned his eyes south, and I followed his gaze to a row of squat buildings. “He likes to sit here beneath the acacias.”

“Why? What does he do?”

“Sometimes I think he is looking.” The old servant fixed his sharp eyes on mine, as if he knew something he wasn’t saying. “But not so much lately. The general has been very busy lately.”

Busy shutting down the temples of Amun
, I thought, and wondered if that’s what the gardener meant. I studied his face, but a lifetime of practice had made it unreadable. “What is your name?” I asked the old man.

“Ahmose.”

“And do you know where the general is now?”

Ahmose smiled widely at me. “I believe the general is with his soldiers, my lady. They are standing outside the palace leading in the petitioners.”

“But Pharaoh is gone.”

“The petitioners are seeing the great vizier Ay. Would my lady like me to take her to see them?”

I thought for a moment, imagining Nefertiti’s response if she knew I’d been to see the general. “Yes, take me to see them.”

“And the cuttings?” he asked.

“You can leave them with Ipu, my body servant.”

The gardener put down his tools and led the way to the gates of Malkata. We approached a large arch at the end of the garden, and when we emerged it looked like the bird market back in Akhmim. Every variety of petitioner had come to ask a favor of the new Pharaoh. There were women with children, old men on donkeys, a boy playing grab-me with his sister, weaving in and out of the sun-wearied crowds.

I stood back in surprise. “Is it always like this?”

The gardener patted the dirt off his kilt. “More often than not. Of course,” he added, “there are more petitioners now that the Elder has passed.” We crossed the busy courtyard and saw that there were people as far as the eye could see, including wealthy women with gold bracelets that made music on their arms and poor women in simple rags who muttered unkindly at children as they scampered around them. Ahmose led us to a shady corner beneath the palace roof where the misbehaving sons of noblewomen were wrestling each other into the dirt. They paid no heed to us. One boy rolled over my sandal, smearing it with dust.

Ahmose cried out, “Your dress, my lady!”

I laughed. “I don’t mind.”

The gardener stared, but I wasn’t Nefertiti. I shook off the dirt and studied the courtyard. “Why are the wealthy in one line and the poor in another?”

“The poor want simple things,” Ahmose explained. “A new well, a better dam. But the wealthy are asking to keep their positions at court.”

“Unfortunately, Pharaoh will still dismiss most of them,” someone said in my ear.

I turned, and the general was standing behind me. “And why would he dismiss them?” I asked earnestly.

“Because all of these men once worked for his father.”

“And he can’t abide anything that was once his father’s,” I reasoned. “Not even his father’s capital.”

“Amarna.” Nakhtmin watched me intently. “The viziers say he wants the new palace built within the year.”

“Yes.” I bit my lip so I wouldn’t say anything against the ambitions of my family, then stepped closer. “And what is the news from the temples?” I asked quietly.

“The temples of Amun all across Egypt have been sealed.”

I tried to imagine it: temples that had stood since the time of Hatshepsut boarded up and their holy waters left to dry. What would become of all the statues to Amun and the priests who’d once paid obeisance to them? How would the god know we still wanted his guidance? I closed my eyes and sent a silent prayer to the god who had watched over us for two thousand years. “And the temples of Isis? And Hathor?” I asked him.

“Destroyed.”

I covered my mouth. “Were many killed?”

“Not by me,” he said firmly as a soldier came toward us.

“General,” he called, and when he saw me his eyes lit up with surprise. He executed a hasty bow. “Lady Mutnodjmet, your father is in the Audience Chamber. If you are looking for him—”

“I am not looking for him.”

The soldier passed Nakhtmin a curious look.

“What did you need?” Nakhtmin asked the soldier.

“There is a woman who claims to be a cousin of the Elder’s, but she’s wearing neither gold nor silver and has no cartouche to identify herself. I placed her in line with the others, but she says she belongs—”

“Place her with the nobility. If she is lying, she will pay the price when her petition is revoked. Warn her of that before you move her.”

The soldier bowed. “Thank you, General. My lady.”

He left, and I noticed that Ahmose the gardener was gone.

“Shall I take you back to the palace?” Nakhtmin asked. “A hot, dirty courtyard full of petitioners is no place for the Sister of the King’s Chief Wife.”

I raised my brows. “Then what is my place?”

He took my arm and we walked together in the shade of the gardens. “With me.” We stopped beneath the acacias. “You are tired of being handmaiden to your sister. Otherwise, you would be with her now. Choosing the site for Amarna.”

“There can be no future for us, General—”

“Nakhtmin,” he corrected me, taking my hands, and I let him.

“We’re going to the desert soon,” I warned. “We’ll be living in tents.”

He pulled me toward him. “I have lived in tents and barracks since I was twelve years old.”

“But there will not be the freedom we have here.”

“What?” He laughed. “Do you think I just want to meet you for secret trysts?”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want to marry you,” he said simply.

I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth of his skin against mine. In the gardens, there was no one to see us. “She will never let me go,” I warned him.

“I am one of the highest-ranking generals in Pharaoh’s army. My ancestors were viziers, and before that they were scribes. I am no common mercenary. Every Pharaoh has married his sisters and daughters to generals in the army as a way of protecting the royal family.”

“Not this Pharaoh,” I said, thinking of Akhenaten’s fear of the army. “This royal family is not like any other.”

“Then you don’t belong with them.” His lips brushed against mine, and far behind us the hundreds of petitioners disappeared.

We didn’t leave the gardens until the sun had nearly set, setting the sky ablaze in violet and red. When I was late returning to my chamber, Ipu was in a state.

“I nearly sent the guards after you, my lady!”

I grinned, tossing my linen cloak onto the bed. “Oh, there was no need for that.” I met her glance.

“My
lady
. You weren’t with the general?”

I stifled a giggle. “Yes.” Then I lost my enthusiasm, realizing what this would mean.

Ipu whispered, “What of Pharaoh?”

“Nefertiti will have to convince him,” I said.

Ipu found a fresh robe in one the baskets and draped it over my shoulders, watching me with concern.

“I’m fifteen already!”

Ipu kept watching. She sat down on the edge of a gold and ebony chair, folding her hands in front of her. “I am thinking this will not go well, my lady.”

I felt some of the color drain from my face, remembering Nakhtmin’s strong arms around me. “I can’t be her handmaiden
forever!
” I exclaimed. “She has a husband and a family and a hundred doting servants! She has endless noblewomen waiting for her appearance so they can run off and copy her robes, her hair, her latest earrings. What does she need
me
for?”

“She will always need you.”

“But it isn’t what I want! I don’t
need
this!” I flung my arm to encompass the heavy woven tapestries and bright ivory lamps. “No.” I shook my head. “She will have to accept it. She will have to convince him.”

Ipu’s face tightened. “Be careful. Think of the general’s position.”

“We will wait until the move is complete. Then I will tell her.”

“And if he is dismissed?”

If he was dismissed, then I would know where I stood in my family.

When Nefertiti returned to Thebes, she was furious. She paced my chamber, kicking at a stray piece of coal from the brazier and enjoying the dark streak it left along the floor. It was Akhenaten’s time with Kiya and he had not come back early, as he usually did.

“He wants to build her a palace,” she seethed.

“So then you will let him,” my father replied. He steadied her with his sharp blue eyes.

“A palace!” She turned. “An entire palace?”

“Let him build her a palace,” my father said. “Who says it has to be in the city?”

Nefertiti’s eyes grew wide. “It could be to the north. It could be outside the city even.”

“But inside the walls,” my father clarified.

“All right. But the walls will be wide,” she warned. She collapsed into a chair and looked into the brazier’s glowing flames. “The army is being sent to Amarna,” she said casually.

My breath caught in my throat.
“What?
When do they leave?” There was too much haste in my voice, and Nefertiti regarded me suspiciously.

“Tomorrow,” she replied. “As soon as the servants pack, we will leave after them. I don’t trust Panahesi. I want to see that every coin in the treasury is going into the building and not into his pocket.”

“Then Tiye and I will be staying behind in Thebes,” my father said. “We can’t hear petitioners—”

“Dismiss the petitioners! I need you there with me.”

“Impossible. Do you want a nation wealthy enough to build a new city or a nation on the brink of starvation?”

Nefertiti stood up. She wore her crown indoors, even with us, her own family. “Egypt will never be on the brink of starvation. Let the petitioners wait. Let the foreign governments find us in Amarna if they want us so badly.”

My father shook his head and Nefertiti sank ungracefully into the chair.

“Then who will I have?” she bemoaned.

“You’ll have your servants. You’ll have Mutnodjmet.”

She glanced at me. “Did you see the plans for the villas? One will be for you,” she said. “Of course, you’ll spend most of the time in the palace. I’ll need help. Especially now.” She looked down at her belly with tenderness. “Now that a son is on its way.”

My father and I stood up at once and I exclaimed, “You are pregnant?”

Nefertiti lifted her chin proudly. “Two months. I’ve already told mother. Even Akhenaten knows.” She narrowed her eyes. “He can go to Kiya every night of the month, but
I
am the one who is pregnant with his son. Two children. And all Kiya has given him is one.”

I looked at my father, who said nothing about Kiya, even though I was sure I’d heard whisperings among the servants of how strange it was that since our family had come to court, Kiya had not fallen pregnant again. But my father’s face showed nothing but pleasure.