Pharaoh's Desire (26 page)

She glanced; his window was empty. There was only a fine linen drape fluttering in the breeze.
 
The small hope she had built up broke apart, and Kama ran back to the tunnel’s entrance, swearing she would never step foot in this garden again.

Chapter Twenty

Nadesh paced his quarters. Amonmose had begun asking questions about Kama. He claimed he’d dreamt about an ebony vixen for the past several nights. Nadesh had feigned ignorance. If he had ever doubted it before, it was clear now that Kama was indeed a witch. The Pharaoh had forgotten himself but remembered her.

When Amonmose insisted that he’d seen her in the garden, Nadesh suggested it was a vision brought on by unsated lust. He offered to bring him a slave girl, but Amonmose politely refused. Nadesh scowled and bit his tongue, impatient to call another meeting of the council.

“He claims he saw her in the garden one night,” Nadesh explained to the others. He paced back and forth across the tiled floors of the great room, his fists clenched.

Meketen’s eyes widened. “Did she see him? Did they speak?”

“No. He said he gazed upon her from his bedroom window. He thought he was dreaming, and when he looked again, she was gone.”

“So, he doesn’t know for certain it was her?”

“No, but it is only a matter of time before it happens again.”

“We must see that it doesn’t.” Meketen grimaced.

Hai sneered. “And what do you propose to do? Have her confined to her room as well?”

Meketen turned his cold, dark eyes on him. “Of course not.”

“Thank the gods.”

“We are going to have her confined in prison.”

Hai’s jaw dropped. “Prison? You have gone too far now, Meketen. The girl—”

“The girl is a menace! We cannot afford to have Kama loitering around the palace, meddling in our plans. Amonmose needs time to concentrate without distraction. If she is free, she might be seen, and she will only confuse him.”

Nadesh nodded, momentarily ceasing his pacing. “I agree with Meketen. Kama is a complication we don’t need right now. We cannot trust her to stay in her room, and if we put guards at her door, the palace will be alive with wagging tongues. We need to sequester her away—only until Amonmose has regained his memory and is well enough to deal with her.”

“Latmay said the Pharaoh may never regain his memory.” Hai looked at them both. “Will you keep her imprisoned for years?”

“Be reasonable!” Meketen snapped. “It will not take him years to recover. That old doctor is a pessimist.”

“But—”

“It’s for the best, Hai.” Nadesh glowered, daring the treasurer to challenge him. Hai backed down and slowly looked away. The matter was settled.

That night, Kama awoke to loud sounds outside her door. When she went to investigate, she found Shu surrounded by armed guards.

“Move aside,” one of the men spoke. “We’ve come for the two women.”

Shu’s moved the tip of his sword through the air, holding each soldier at bay. “I’ll spill the blood of any man who dares try to enter this room.”

“We’ve got orders to kill anyone who interferes.”

“I am sworn to protect Kama with my life. If you’re ready to die, then so am I.”

The men exchanged glances and raised their swords.

 
“Please stop!” Kama cried. She threw the door open wide. “There is no need for violence.” She placed a hand on Shu’s shoulder. “I shall go willingly.”

A short time later, Kama and Mutema found themselves being led to an area deep within the bowels of the palace. As they made their descent, Kama could feel the temperature change. It was cool and damp and dark. A trail of sparingly placed oil lamps dimly lit the corridors. Down here, there were no beautiful pictures, no gold busts, no carvings, and no ornate tile.

They were led into a private room that was not much more than an animal’s den. The earthen floor smelled of age and must. Kama turned on one of the guards. “Why are we being left here?” she asked.

“We’ve been ordered to confine you here,” he answered simply.

“By whom?”

“By order of the Pharaoh.”

Kama gasped. Amuonmose would not dare do this to her. No matter what his personal feelings had become, she refused to believe he would have her imprisoned. “What offense have I been accused of?” she asked.

“There is no charge. You are being held here—indefinitely.”

Kama shook her head. “That cannot be… I demand to go before a court.”

The guard smirked. “Since there is no charge, there is no court to which you can plead your innocence.”

Kama gaped. “So we are being forced to rot in this dungeon until someone deems it appropriate for us to be released?”

“Yes. I…apologize for the meager accommodations.” Kama gave him a narrow-eyed look as he tried, and failed, to keep his eyes from sweeping over her body. “I will make sure you are well fed and have everything you need while you are staying here.”

Kama fumed. “And I suppose I should thank you for that?”

The guard shrugged. “You could be sharing a room with the other male prisoners. If that’s what—”

“Thank you for your kindness,” Mutema broke in. “We would be grateful for anything you can do to help us.”

He gave her a long look that softened. Maybe there is someone I can talk to on your behalf…”

“Yes?” Mutema’s eyebrows lifted with hope.

“You would need a man with the Pharaoh’s ear. Perhaps Nadesh, the grand vizier—”

“Forget it!” Kama scoffed. “Nadesh would never help me.”

“Your shoulder looks much better,” Latmay said. “Have you had any more pain?”

“No, just these headaches,” Amonmose replied. “Three weeks and still I suffer one each night.”

Latmay pressed his fingers around the angry red scar on Amonmose’s scalp. “It’s healing very nicely. You will always have a small scar, but your crown will cover it when you’re in public. I can see no reason why you should be experiencing headaches.”

Amonmose nodded and sighed. “I have not been sleeping well.”

Latmay opened his black bag. “I can give you something to help you relax.”

“No! No… If I sleep, I shall be haunted by her again.”

“Whom?”

Amonmose stood and shrugged dramatically. “I don’t know her name, or even if she has one. I only know her face, her unequalled beauty. Her skin is dark as ebony and smooth as marble. Her eyes rival the deepest obsidian.”

Latmay listened as the Pharaoh continued on, describing all the lurid details of each dream.

“Each encounter with her is so real. I can hear her voice, feel her skin, smell her scent, taste her lips. We make beautiful love together. She consumes me, body and soul, Latmay. But when I wake, I am alone. I have made inquiries, but no one can recall the stunning creature I have described. I feel certain that this woman is real, from my past, perhaps. My dreams are just too vivid for her to be a fantasy.” His laugh was bitter. “I might be going mad—do you think I’m going mad? I cannot focus on my lessons.” He shook his head. “My thoughts keep drifting back to her…” Amonmose gave Latmay a pitiful look. “Have you any advice?”

Latmay could feel the pain in his voice. What the advisors were doing was wrong. He should end this farce once and for all and tell Amonmose about Kama. As their ruler, he deserved their loyalty. As a man, he deserved their honesty. Amonmose loved her, and no matter how hard the advisors tried, they could not change that.

Latmay took a deep breath. “Pharaoh, there is something you should know…” He paused, wondering how to tell him. A sharp rap at the door made him jump like a nervous feline.

“Yes?” Amonmose called.

Baal opened the door. “The grand vizier has arrived.”

“Give me a few moments before sending him in.”

Baal nodded and closed the door again.

“Continue with what you were saying, doctor.”

Latmay gave the closed door a wary look. “It-it was of no importance,” he said. “I only thought you should know that it is possible you do know this woman while no one else does. You may have met her in your travels, or you may be having a clandestine affair, which no one is privy to.” He closed his bag and walked toward the door. “You should not be afraid of these dreams, Pharaoh. They may very well be the start to helping you regain your memory.”

Amonmose nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you, Latmay. You have been very helpful, as always.”

The doctor smiled shyly before walking out. He had not been nearly as helpful as he could have been. But in time, he would make up for it. It might cost him his life, but dying honorably was better than living foolishly.

In the weeks that followed, Amonmose slowly regained his confidence. He’d mastered his history lessons on Egypt and the surrounding countries, and had settled into his role as Pharaoh. The beautiful woman still haunted his dreams, but less frequently, and her presence was more of a comfort to him than anything else.

As his confidence rose, he began making decisions on his own. He arranged for a midday meal in his chambers with the advisors to tell them his news.

They all sat down to a lavish feast, featuring dishes Amonmose knew each of his advisors would like.

Hai filled his plate. “Pharaoh, how did you know I like roasted pig with dried plums?”

“I made some inquiries.”

Meketen eyed him curiously. “What other
inquiries
have you been making, Sire?”

Amonmose shrugged “I have learned that as Pharaoh, I can find out practically anything about anyone I want to—except myself, of course.” He smiled politely and took a sip of wine from his goblet. “That is one of the disadvantages of amnesia. I am at the mercy of others to help me solve my own mysterious past.”

“And we are delighted to assist in any way that we can,” Nadesh said. “You have made exceptional progress. You should be proud of your efforts.”