Pharaoh's Desire (28 page)

“Good. Stay prepared. We never know when we may need them urgently.”

The chief deputy nodded, then seemed to hesitate. “There is just one more thing. There was one chariot that had an unusual break in the wooden axle between the two wheels.”

“Unusual?” Nadesh asked.
 
“How so?”

“It was not a normal break, jagged from the stress of impact.
 
It appeared to have been purposely severed. And…” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Some of the spokes on one wheel had been removed.”

“Why is this so odd?” Meketen asked. “Cogs are frequently lost, causing the spokes to loosen.”

“True, but each chariot was inspected before battle. There were no loose or missing spokes.”

Meketen’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you missed one.”

The man shook his head. “Not likely. Especially considering the fact that this particular chariot belonged to the Pharaoh.” He looked directly at Amonmose.
 
“I personally inspected it before battle.”

“Are you suggesting my chariot was tampered with?” Amomose asked, shocked.

“I am.”

Nadesh frowned.
 
“How can you be certain it belonged to Amonmose?”

“The First Charioteer’s shield was still securely fastened to the side.”

Silence filled the room as the implication of what the commander was saying sunk in. Finally, Amonmose spoke.
 
“Thank you, for your report, commander.
 
You are free to leave. However,” he said, “you are to discuss this information with no one else. Do you understand?”

The commander nodded.
 
“Yes. On my life, I pledge to you that no one else will learn of this.”

Amonmose sat back somberly as he watched the man leave. A sandstorm of emotions spiraled through him. Could the commander be right? Could someone have deliberately tampered with his chariot? Did someone want him dead? Whoever it was had nearly succeeded.

He stared uneasily at his advisors. It had to be someone close to him with access to the chariots. But who? He shook his head, confused.
 
He had not a clue. But one thing was certain: He had to be more cautious now than ever.
 

Chapter Twenty-two

Five days had passed since the Pharaoh’s royal mandate, and women from Egypt’s finest cities to its most remote outposts arrived by the masses. They were led to a great room, where a lavish feast was offered for their enjoyment.

There were platters of succulent duck, roasted pig, and curried goat. The tantalizing smells of fresh perch, mullet, and sun-dried catfish filled the air. More exotic dishes included pigeons stuffed with sweet onions and figs; wild geese smothered in a tangy sauce of garlic and honey; and roasted lamb with cabbage and imported apples.

Smaller tables were overflowing with pomegranates, dates, peaches, melons, cucumbers, turnips, beets, lentils, chickpeas and beans. Anyone with a sweet tooth could help themselves to the tables laden with raisin bread, sweet cakes, and honey. It seemed no expense had been spared. Nadesh watched the stream of females that poured into the room and smirked. There were many beautiful women here today. They had come from far and wide, in all shapes and sizes. Some had come willingly. Others came because they had no choice. If he were Pharaoh, he certainly knew which one of these beauties he would choose for nothing so respectable as marriage. He already had two unfulfilling wives.

Nadesh eyed one of the women that passed by him. One night between her legs would be worth suffering any disfavor from his wives. He licked his lips. Any other time, he would have approached her, but today, he had to remain focused. There was only one woman he wanted Amonmose to notice.

He searched the room until he found her. Zahra laughed and threw her head back, her cinnamon colored hair swept gracefully from side to side. He called Zahra his niece, but she was niece to his sister’s husband. He’d met her at a family gathering, and he was immediately struck by her beauty. His wives’ homely looks paled in comparison.

He’d considered bedding her, but it was much too dangerous. If his wives to find out, one or both could divorce him, and he’d be forced to financially compensate them. He would have to return each wife’s dowry, all of her personal effects that she brought into the marriage, and any funds given to him at the beginning of the marriage for her maintenance. Not only would he be embarrassed, he would be damn near penniless.

Instead, Nadesh befriended Zahra and kept her around in case he needed her. He soon learned that her greedy ambition rivaled her stunning beauty. It was a deadly combination, but one that could work in his favor. With Zahra as queen, he could ensure not only his position, but also his continued wealth for many years to come. Now, all he had to do was get Amonmose to notice her

Latmay’s heart was palpitating. He hoped Kama’s plan would work. Being a doctor, he’d spent all morning at the temple, praying for their success. If they were discovered, it was certain death. He was not afraid of dying, but to die in vain was another matter all together.

As he made his way down the familiar dark, damp hallways, a mysterious figure shrouded in long, dark robes and an oversized hood followed him closely. The person nearly blended in with the abysmal surroundings.

The guard looked up as Latmay approached. “I am glad you made it so quickly,” he told Latmay. “The young woman is feeling very ill again today.”

Latmay nodded. He had been anxiously waiting all day for Kama’s summons. “If you don’t mind, I’ll need some privacy to examine her.”

“Of course.” As the guard prepared to unlock the door, the dark figure stepped from the shadows. The guard caught the movement and turned suddenly, grabbing his sword. “Who’s that?” he demanded.

Latmay casually looked over his shoulder. “Oh, you needn’t be worried,” he said easily. “It is only my assistant.”

The guard eyed the shapeless form suspiciously. The person, a woman based on the kohl-rimmed eyes, was draped from head to toe in dark garments, her head covered and her face veiled. “Why is she dressed in that manner?” he asked.

Latmay shrugged. “When she was a young girl, she was burned in a fire. The entire right side of her body and her face were left horribly disfigured.” He leaned in and whispered to the guard. “She is very sensitive about it, so she keeps herself covered.”

The guard’s eyes narrowed. “I will see these burns for myself.” He inclined his head toward the woman. “Remove your hood.”

Latmay frowned. “Is that really necessary?”

The guard’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. “Yes.”

The woman seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then, she tentatively raised both arms and pulled her hood away from her face to reveal lumpy scars on the right side of her forehead and cheekbone. The effect was gruesome.

The guard released his grip on his sword. “You may proceed,” he said.

The woman did not speak, but instead gave him an embarrassed look before covering her face and head again.

Inside the cell, the four of them stared silently at each other.

“Well,” Latmay prompted. “It’s now or never.”

The cloaked figure hastily pulled her robes off, and Kama immediately hugged her. “Dyzet…”

“I missed you so much,” Dyzet whispered. “I had no idea you were being confined here. Thank the gods you are in good health.”

“I have missed you as well,” Kama replied. “But we’ve no time for reunions. We must get changed quickly.”

Mutema peered at Dyzet. “How did you make your face appear disfigured?”

The young woman puffed with pride. “I melted wax onto a piece of parchment, and then while it was still warm, I applied it to my face and molded it against my skin. Now, it has hardened, and it will stay put until I peel it away.”

“How clever!” Mutema touched the wax on Dyzet’s cheek.

“Latmay warned me that the guards might demand to see my face, so I had to be prepared.”

Kama hugged her again. “I am honored to call you my dearest friend. Thank you so much for risking yourself for me.”

Tears welled up in Dyzet’s eyes. “I would gladly risk my life to help someone as deserving as you.”

As Latmay kept watch, Kama and Dyzet switched clothes. Beneath her robes, Dyzet carried everything Kama needed. Within minutes, the transformation was complete.

Dyzet took her place in Kama’s bed and covered herself from head to toe. Anyone peeking in would only see a figure huddled under the blankets. It was the perfect ruse.

Latmay hurried them along. “Ladies, we must go. We don’t have much longer.”

Kama embraced her mother quickly. They had already said their goodbyes last night. They both knew that if Kama’s plan was not successful, they might never see each other again. Kama felt a range of emotions coursing through her. She squeezed her mother’s hand reassuringly and gave her a silent nod of encouragement before veiling her face and covering her head with the large hood. She took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway. The guard was nowhere to be seen.

“He must have gone to relieve himself,” Latmay said. “Let us hurry.”

He took Kama’s arm and quickly led her down the dim corridor. Kama knew that once they made it to the upper levels, they would not be stopped. Latmay’s presence in the palace was commonplace. No one would even think to question him or his “assistant.”

They had just reached the end of the corridor when a voice called out, “Halt!”

Kama wanted to run, but she knew they would not make it far. Besides, she was with child. If she tripped and fell, she could lose the baby. She steeled herself as not one, but two guards approached, pointing at her.

“Is that her?” one of the guards asked.

“Yes, that’s her.” The guard from before gave them a peevish grin. “My friend wants to see the woman’s face.”

Fear shot through Kama’s body. Now, she would surely be exposed, and both Latmay and Dyzet would certainly be killed.

“Please,” Latmay pleaded. “There is no need for this.”

“Take your hood off,” the second guard ordered Kama.

Latmay moved to stand in front of her. “How can you ask this of her? This is an insult. She is a human being, worthy of respect.”

Without even meaning to, Kama began weeping. Her shoulders hunched in true sorrow. Her sobs echoed through the dark corridors, sounding like a wounded animal stranded in the darkness.

Taking her cue, Latmay put his arm around her. “Please don’t cry, dear. They will not hurt you. They just want to look at you.”

Kama wailed louder, and laid her head on Latmay’s shoulder, awash in tears.

“See what you’ve done?” Latmay shot a look at the guards. “Crushed the spirit of a fragile girl, a gifted assistant in the Pharaoh’s employ.” He glared at them.

Guilt washed over the features of the first guard. “Get her out of here,” he muttered. “We’ve got prisoners to tend to anyway.”

Latmay offered a perfunctory nod and quickly led Kama away. Only when they’d reached the end of the corridor out of earshot of the guards, did he speak. “Kama, I can tell you that performance was worthy of applause. I never knew you were such a talented actor.”