Pharaoh's Desire (10 page)

“Or
someone
.” Baal’s expression darkened.

“Precisely. We must practice caution from now on.”

“No harm shall befall you,” Baal vowed. “You know I will give my life for yours.”

Amonmose gave his guard a wry smile. “You must stay alive so you can be my eyes when I cannot see.”

Baal did not return his smile.

Amonmose clapped the man on the arm. “I am not as easy to dispense with as some might think, Baal. But stay alert, I fear the worse is yet to come.”

Kama shifted uneasily and glanced around the hunting party. Despite the thrill of the kill, the air had changed, and it was charged with an ominous mood. Amonmose had put on a brave front, but she knew there would be no more hunting today, despite his confident strides.

She turned to Dyzet. “He could have been killed.”

The girl smirked. “So you do care about him after all.”

“No! I-I would hate for anyone to face death at the hands of a snake.” Kama said, lifting her chin defiantly.

Dyzet sighed after a moment’s pause. “You are right. The Pharaoh could have easily been killed. I pray to the goddess Isis to protect Amonmose and keep him from harm. And I pray for your protection as well, Kama.”

Kama felt her heart sink. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew she was safe only because she belonged to the Pharaoh. She remembered the lustful look in Nadesh’s eyes. If Amunmose perished, she had no one she could depend on to protect her.

Chapter Six

Hours later, Amonmose sat still in a large chair in his chambers while Latmay examined him. The old doctor felt for a strong pulse, measured his body temperature, and tested his reflexes using a mallet made of dried animal tendons. “Your heart rate is still erratic,” Latmay observed. “Just as a precaution, I’m going to prepare you a compress of tobacco leaves soaked in calf’s blood.”

“I’d sooner journey to the Netherworld than let you apply that,” Amonmose warned.

“The compress should slow your heart beat and help it maintain a steady rhythm..”

“Have you gone mad?” Amonmose demanded. “My heartbeat is strong and fast because I am a virile, healthy man!”. He jumped to his feet and beat his fists against his bare chest.

Latmay grinned. “Well, it’s your fault,” he said. “I do not get enough practice from you, so I am forced to look after more sickly people. My skills are languishing!”

“Can I help it if I am as strong as an ox?”

“No, you cannot. Few men can claim to be in such great shape.”

“Thank you, Latmay. Now, I give you your leave, for I have some urgent matters to attend to.”

“Goodnight, Sire,” he said, putting his instruments into his leather bag. “I will return to inquire of you on the morrow.”

Amonmose wagged his finger at the old man. “And when you return, your prescription better include something more palatable, like honey.”

Latmay bowed. “Your wish is my command.”

Amonmose grimaced as he watched the doctor leave. He had no intentions of taking any medicine for an erratic heartbeat. He knew its cause, and it was a siren, not a serpent. Even now, he was fully prepared to storm down to her room and demand her complete and total surrender. Yet deep inside, he knew Kama might surrender her body, but never her heart, and that would not do. He wanted her to want him. It was time for a change in strategy.

“Baal!” he called aloud.

“Yes, your grace?” Baal seemingly appeared from nowhere.

“Have the servants draw a bath for me. I’ll take it here in my chambers.”

Baal bowed gracefully bow and nodded in acknowledgement. He stepped outside the Pharaoh’s chambers and quickly delivered the instructions to a waiting servant. There was a formal hierarchy at the palace. Everyone reported to someone, and they all ultimately reported to the Pharaoh.
 

Minutes later, Amonmose’s chamber was a flurry of activity as dozens of servants brought in a huge copper tub and carefully placed it in the center of one of the Pharaoh’s adjoining rooms. The massive tub was large enough for him to sit with his legs outstretched. Once it was positioned perfectly, dozens more servants brought in buckets of rose-scented water and emptied them one by one into the tub. With so many servants dedicated to the task, the entire process happened very quickly. Two female attendants lingered by the chamber entrance ready to assist the Pharaoh with his private bathing.

However, this evening Amonmose preferred solitude, so he clapped his hands loudly, signaling for everyone to make a hasty departure. Once he was alone, he removed his garments and lowered himself into the cool, soothing waters. It was the perfect solution to the seasonal heat. He took his time, lathering himself with a fragrant cleansing cream. Afterward, he would spread balanos oil over his body. The oil was extracted from a thorny tree in the Nile Valley and was purported to have mystical healing powers.

The Pharaoh relaxed and soaked leisurely, replaying the events of the hunt in his mind. He was certain the appearance of the snake was no accident. But how did it get there? Who released it and how would he
or she
know how to time its exact placement? The person had to be someone with experience handling snakes, someone with nothing to lose by doing this, and, worst of all, someone in his inner circle whom he’d invited to the hunt. So far, he’d only discussed his concerns with Baal. At this moment, he did not know whom else he could trust. Whoever was responsible for that serpent would either go into hiding like a scared baboon or become even more aggressive, like a cornered hyena. In either case, he must be cautious. Someone was trying to tell him something, and today he’d gotten the message loud and clear.

Later that evening, Kama sat in her room watching a spectacular sunset. So many times she’d sat by Akahmen’s pool watching the deep shades of red slowly transition into the shadowy purple hues of night. It was a brilliant display of color that she never tired of watching. Dyzet had told her the sun god, Re, was also worshipped here,and she could certainly understand why.

Kama wondered if her mother was gazing at the same glorious sunset. Was Mutema thinking of her lost daughter? Did she cry at night? Was she lonely? Kama wished she would have spent that last precious day with her mother, helping her make bread and telling her she loved her. She remembered their brief encounter in the kitchen the day she left for Aswan. Her mother spoke of Satati’s impending marriage and what her wifely duties would be. At that time, Kama had never been intimate with a man, so she couldn’t imagine submitting to anyone’s touch. But now, she had a better understanding of her own body and the unfamiliar sensations she was feeling. She still remembered her mother’s words. She had said passion was a complicated emotion. Kama was beginning to believe her.

She felt a tumultuous mix of emotions every time she thought of Amonmose. His touch drove her mad with a craving she’d never felt before. She loved it and despised it in the same breath. She wondered if her mother would understand these feelings. Not that it mattered. She would never get to ask her, for she would never see her again. Kerma was a distant memory to her now. A beautiful, sweet memory that she would always treasure.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a discreet knock at her chamber door. Kama smiled to herself. It must be Dyzet. She was usually at home with her family at this late hour, but lately her visits had been more frequent, and Kama welcomed her company. Maybe they could watch the sunset together.

When she opened the door, it was not Dyzet who greeted her but the Pharaoh instead. He looked magnificent, as usual. He wore a finely spun white linen kilt knotted at his waist. His bare chest was adorned with a gold pectoral collar encrusted with large turquoise and onyx cabochons. He never failed to impress her with his regal air and his confident manner.

She bowed gracefully. “To what do I owe this visit?” she asked.

Once again, she’d spoken before he had addressed her. She expected him to make a comment about her lack of protocol, but he surprised her.

“I thought you might wish to accompany me on a walk,” he offered. “It occurred to me that you have not seen my garden.”

Kama stared at him, not knowing what to say. Just when she’d learned to adjust to his forceful and commanding personality, he changed tactics. He’d done the same thing earlier in his litter.

“Now?” she asked.

“Yes, if that is your desire.”

His amber eyes were warm and inviting as he held her gaze. He looked so sincere and honest. But did she dare trust him? Did she have a choice?

Kama smiled shyly. “Lead the way.”

Amonmose held his arm out to her, and she graciously accepted, permitting him to escort her. Both Baal and Shu followed a discreet distance behind them. They all walked in silence as Amonmose led the group down a series of hallways into an area of the palace that Kama had not previously explored.

Eventually, they traveled down a dim tunnel with marble walls and elegant tile floors. The tunnel was not straight, and the walls appeared to curve into a large semicircle, slowly turning into a wide arc as they walked.

“The terrain will soon change,” he told her.

Kama watched incredulously as the beautiful tile floors transformed into a soft stone walkway. Even the walls lost their graceful veins of marble, replaced with rough textured stone and brick. Suddenly, the tunnel curved and abruptly ended, opening into the most exquisite garden Kama had ever seen.

“It-it’s…incredible!” she exclaimed.

“The garden was started long before I was born, but I have added to it considerably since I became Pharaoh. A few years ago, I commissioned a local stone mason to construct the tunnel and add a few more pathways.”

Kama stood open-mouthed as she stared at an unending variety of lush green plants, radiant flowers, and towering trees. She’d never seen such stunning colors. A plethora of reds, yellows, purples, and greens dominated the landscape.

Amidst the splendid blooms of flowers and plants, there were a multitude of trees. There were tall, spindly trees with thin branches, short heavy trees with thick trunks and dark foliage, and soft willowy trees with cascading leaves. The bushes were perfectly trimmed, and they dotted each area of the garden in all shapes and sizes. Kama stood on the main path, but she could see that several smaller paths ventured off in different directions. It was paradise. Sweet and secluded.

“I have never seen its equal,” she admitted. “It’s more than a garden. It’s a masterpiece.”

Amonmose smiled. “I’m glad it meets with your approval.” He took her hand. “Come. Let me show you more of this masterpiece. Baal and Shu will remain stationed at the tunnel entrance.”

Kama allowed him to hold her hand, and she quietly listened as he proudly listed each flower, plant, and tree.

“There are forty sycamore figs, one hundred olive trees, twenty-two date palms, twenty pomegranate trees, fifty-eight willows, sixteen arcadia trees, and forty-four lotus trees,” he told her. “But they are more than just scenery. Everything serves a purpose in this garden.

“The pomegranate and date trees yield a delicious crop of fruit each year. The wood from the sycamores is used to make water wheels and other tools for agriculture. Its fruit also makes an excellent fig pie. We grow lotus trees to harvest the timber to make furniture and ships. The olive trees, of course, provide us with much needed oil to light all the lamps in the palace. When it comes to these resources, we are self-sufficient.”

Kama marveled at the shiny dark green leaves of the olive trees. The fruit was so healthy and vibrant. In Nubia, there were no lush gardens like this. “What manner of irrigation do you use to keep all these plants prospering?” she asked.

Amonmose looked at her with admiration. “Most women would not think to ask such a question. They like beautiful things and they accept them as they are. I am impressed with your curiosity.”

She blushed, not knowing how to respond.

“I have a dedicated team of gardeners that tend to the plants each day,” he told her. “Some of the flowers are hand watered using large jugs. For plants requiring more water, the men bring it in using barrels carried by oxen. This garden also has its own source of water, which flows from a brook.”