Pharaoh's Desire (19 page)

“I mean you no harm, Mutema. I am not a monster. I came only to tell you that Kama has been in my palace at Thebes. She has adjusted quite well, and all of her needs are being provided for. She is safe there, and no harm will come to her while I am away.”

She nodded slowly, still in disbelief at this news.

“I see so much of her likeness in you,” he added.

Mutema sat back down, smoothing out her clothes. “My hair was once dark and thick like Kama’s,” she explained. “But it turned white when I learned of her death. She was my only child. She was beauty and strength and vivaciousness. She was everything to me, and my world was darkness when I learned I would never lay eyes on her again.

“Her uncle was a good man, a pious man, devoted to his gods and his family. He took us in and gave unselfishly of his time and his home.” She shook her head sadly and then made sure to catch his gaze. “His daughter, Satati, was a mere child, planning to be married the very next day. And even though I did not agree with the marriage, I knew Akahmen did what was best for our family. I argued with him the day he journeyed to Aswan, but I’d promised myself that when he returned, we would put our differences aside and forgive each other. We always did.”

A lone tear rolled slowly down her cheek. She felt weary from this discourse. It was all so unreal. “And then, this tragedy. A tragedy you caused. I never had the chance to tell Akahmen that I forgave him. He went to his death believing I was angry with him. You, Pharaoh of Egypt, took away all that I loved.”

Amonmose was silent for a moment, a sympathetic pain squeezing in his chest. “I am sorry for the pain and profound sorrow I have caused you. I take full responsibility for the fire. I ordered it on the recommendation of my advisors, who assured me there was an uprising. These things are done in war. But, if I had the chance to do it again, I may have done things differently.”

He would never have met Kama if he had done things differently. Someone, it seemed, must always suffer. Amonmose took Mutema’s slender hand in his own. “I cannot change what happened. Satati and Akahmen are dead, but Kama is still alive, and I have come to bring you back to Thebes.”

She looked at him with moist eyes. “Why?”

“To be with your daughter, of course.”

“Can you not simply free her and give her leave to come home?”

Amonmose stood up and stepped away. He had not expected Mutema to ask so many questions; he supposed he should have. “I cannot answer that.”

Mutema’s voice did not waver. “Cannot or will not?”

The inquiry was spoken innocently enough, but Amonmose saw the spark of anger in Mutema’s eyes. This was indeed Kama’s mother. “I came here of my own accord to give you the news of your daughter’s good health. She has no clue that I am here, risking my own death to find you. I’d hoped you would agree to return with me and be reunited with the child you claim you love so dearly. It would mean her utter happiness to see you. So, I ask you again, will you return to Thebes with me?”

 
They were wasting time. He needed to get the camp dismantled and out of enemy territory as soon as possible.

“You have risked your life and the lives of your countrymen, all for the sake of a woman?” Mutema asked. “This seems strange to me. Almost as strange as saving her from a burning village and spiriting her away to your palace. I cannot help but wonder...is she being held captive? Is she your paramour?”

Amonmose did not hide his shock. “No! I have no need of a harem.” He lifted his head. “I can have any woman I desire.”

Mutema arched a curious eyebrow. “I do not doubt you’ve seduced your fair share of maidens. But Kama is different from most women.”

He crossed his arms over his chest.
 
“I could not agree more.”

“So, if she is free to leave, why didn’t you send her home to me?”

Amonmose sighed impatiently. “It would have been too dangerous for her to travel alone.”

“You could have provided an escort or a guard. She is Nubian; she would be safe once she passed your borders.”

“No woman is safe traveling so far,” he said. “Especially someone as ravishing as Kama.”

Mutema smirked. “So you admit, you find her beautiful?”

He gave her a sideways glance. “A man would have to be a blinded in both eyes not to.”

Mutema cast him a suspicious look. “You could have brought her with you, returned her to me. Instead, you force her to stay with you, with the man who killed her family. Have you not done enough? Do you think I am a fool? You have her confined to your palace, at your mercy, no doubt forcing yourself—”

“No!” Amonmose bellowed, surprising them both. He threw his hands in the air. “You are the very embodiment of your daughter, always pushing, digging for answers, trying to make me justify my actions. Kama is not my slave. She is not my concubine. I would never force her to do anything. She is more to me than a pretty face, old woman. She is captivating and intelligent and funny and gracious and honorable. She has a strength that I admire, candor that I appreciate, and integrity that I treasure.

“Yes, she warms my bed, but only because she wants to. She is my soul mate, my confidante. And I cannot and will not part with her.”

Mutema stood, open-mouthed. “You love her, don’t you?” she asked.

They were alone in the tent, so there was no need for secrets. “Yes,” he said. “I love her.” He began to pace back and forth slowly. “The night of the fire, I could not take my eyes off her. She fought my men like a wildcat, and I’d never seen that quality in a woman before. It piqued my interest. So, I took her away as a captive, but it is
she
who has stolen
my
heart.” He gave Mutema a challenging look. “I love her and I will not be without her. I came to find you and bring you back so she will never think of leaving. If you want to come with me, I think it will make us all very happy. But if you will not, nothing has changed. I will not surrender her.”

Mutema’s gaze scoured him up and down
 
“I admire your honesty,” she said. “And I can see that you truly are taken with her. I, too, only want happiness for my daughter. I will accompany you to Thebes, Pharaoh.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t meant to be holding. “Thank you.” Amonmose clasped her tiny hands in his. He breathed deeply and let out a nervous laugh.

“What do you find so humorous?” Mutema asked.

“Of all the wars I have fought and all the enemies I have faced, I do not think I have met two worthier adversaries than you and Kama.”

Mutema smiled, revealing her perfect white teeth. “Just be grateful that we are both on your side,” she said. “For no matter how mighty a man is, no defense can help him in the battle against a woman’s contempt.”

Amonmose merely smiled.

Chapter Thirteen

           
Nadesh presided over the second stage of the foundation ceremony. His long, slender fingers passed a bowl of incense to the high priest, who in turn placed the bowl on the temple’s offering table. The table was laden with flowers and elaborate garlands meant to symbolize growth and renewal. Several lower-ranking priests calmly waved fans, spreading the scent of the incense. Before entering the temple, the priests had purified themselves in water and then shaved their bodies from head to toe. They left no hair untouched, from ankle to eyebrow.

 
In addition to their rituals of purity, the priests were devoted scholars. They had to be familiar with every ceremony. They had to know each step, each movement, each song, and each prayer associated with all the temple rituals. They had to be intimately familiar with every god and goddess, knowing what pleased each one and what did not. They had to be prepared for any occasion, any shift in the public attitude, any change in the whim of the Pharaoh.

Nadesh watched them carefully as they carried out the precise steps for today’s ceremony. The foundation ceremony was a critical step in the building process for a new temple. As each stage of construction was completed, it was blessed with a ceremony. Many things could go wrong during building: accidents, deaths, weather delays. So far, no men had been killed on this project, and everything was in budget and on schedule.

Nadesh’s face showed no sign of emotion as he fulfilled his duties.
Duties that Amonmose should be doing, instead of traipsing about the countryside putting his life in jeopardy
. The nerve! Sending some young upstart with a note telling him of his whereabouts. There was a time when Amonmose did not make a move without consulting his grand vizier.
 
But Amonmose no longer wanted or needed his advice. He had a new confidante, and he’d made it clear that anyone who did not approve of Kama would be looked upon as a traitor. There was nothing Nadesh could do but bide his time. He’d outlasted every woman Amonmose had fancied, and, eventually, he would outlast Kama as well.

Nadesh lit a candle and started chanting the required incantations, his deep voice filling the air. He was ill and would rather spend his time laying in the comfort of his bed, with his two wives taking turns feeding him soothing honey beer.

The only good thing about Amonmose’s absence was that no one had to see him flaunting his Nubian trophy. Kama kept to herself and quietly awaited Amonmose’s return. For this, Nadesh was happy. Each time he saw her, he thought of the night in Aswan where she made his manhood rigid with raw desire. The lust was incomparable. He’d procured the talents of a prostitute, who did things his wives would not dream of doing. But days later, a horrible burning threatened to eat his body alive. The whore had given him a disease that made his loins burn like fire.. He’d tried to track her down, but she was nowhere to be found. If he laid eyes on that slut again, he’d have her skinned alive. …

The sound of a tambourine filled the air, signaling the end of the ceremony. Nadesh watched as a royal scribe chronicled the event. When he stopped, they were all free to go.

Nadesh had already spoken with Hai and Meketen, and they all agreed that a radical solution was needed to get their pharaoh back on track. They had all known him since his birth and seen him through the death of his parents. They’d helped him rebuild a failing dynasty and restore the kingdom to the magnificence of its past. Amonmose’s reputation and legacy weren’t the only ones at stake. They had all become powerful men, and they would do anything to keep that power. Anything.

Kama watched the small fingers of her teacher expertly pluck the strings of the lyre. The sweet melody that flowed from each cord floated through the air and wrapped itself around her like a warm breeze. She closed her eyes, momentarily hypnotized.

“No, no, no!” she heard a voice call out. The notes ceased, and she was abruptly pulled from her reverie. “Kama, how can you learn how to play with your eyes closed?”

Kama gave an apologetic look. “I beg your pardon, Dyzet. You play so beautifully, it is hard to focus on the lesson.”

Dyzet smiled at the flattery. “Thank you. But if you want me to teach you, you really must pay attention to what I’m doing. Watch my hands.”

Kama willed herself to concentrate. These past two weeks, she’d done everything she could think of to pass the time and distract herself from thoughts of Amonmose. She watched as Dyzet softly caressed each string on the lyre.

“Kama, do you see how I place my second finger on this string and my third finger here? Now, you try.”

Kama played the very same chords, but her strained tune was the opposite of the Dyzet’s heavenly melody.

“Ugh.” Dyzet winced. “It sounds like two owls having a screeching contest.”

Both women laughed. “Your lyre is obviously better than mine,” Kama said.

“They are identical. You are simply not trying hard enough. I think perhaps your focus is elsewhere.”