Authors: Chanta Rand
He now knew the full extent of Kama’s love for Amonmose. He had misjudged her. Anger and frustration had gotten the best of him, and now it was too late. He was banished with nowhere to go. No means to support his family.
His foolishness had ruined him and nearly ruined an innocent girl who deserved, if nothing else, an apology for her suffering. Nadesh stopped.
That was it!
He would apologize. He would go to her and beg her forgiveness. He would make her understand his motives, and he would pledge his allegiance to her from this day forward. He would also gain Amonmose’s trust back. He could do it. He had to do it. His future depended on it.
It was late when Nadesh arrived at Amonmose’s bedchambers. He found Baal standing guard outside. “I need to see Kama,” he said, offering no explanation why. “Kama cannot be disturbed,” Baal informed him.
“Please move aside, Baal. My business is important.”
“
Kama cannot be disturbed
,” Baal said again. He placed his back against the door and stared stonily ahead as if Nadesh did not exist.
Nadesh balked. Baal had never used a disrespectful tone with him. What had changed? He doubted that Baal knew of Kama’s ultimatum to him. She’d promised that only Latmay and the advisors themselves would be aware of it. If there was anything he knew for certain about Kama, it was that she kept her word.
“Baal, it is imperative that I see Kama right now. I have an urgent message that cannot wait a moment longer.”
Baal smirked. “First Meketen and now you. Oddly, there seems to be a multitude of pressing matters that cannot wait until daylight.”
Nadesh’s ire spiked . “What nonsense do you speak of? What has Meketen to do with any of this?” Suddenly, Nadesh had a sickening thought. What if Meketen had arrived before him with the same mindset? What if he was ensconced in a private meeting with Kama at this very moment, offering apologies and asking for absolution? He wouldn’t put it past the man. Reaching for the door, he tried to move past Baal.
He must get in to see Kama!
Baal’s thick fingers quickly wrapped themselves around Nadesh’s long, slender neck. With one brawny hand, Baal lifted Nadesh and shoved him against the chamber door, pinning him tightly against the hard wood. The scuffle was over before it had begun.
Nadesh was practically standing on his toes, wedged between the unyielding door and Baal’s iron grip. “Please!” he choked, in a high-pitched voice. “I must see—”
“Come back in the morning,” Baal cut him off. Normally, he regarded Nadesh as a pesky gnat. In the same way that gnats existed to plague the happy flourishings of fruit and flowers, Nadesh had become a necessary evil that had to be tolerated. Tonight, that tolerance wore thin. It was unsettling to see the Pharaoh summoned in the dead of night by a mysterious note. Then, moments later, Nadesh unexpectedly appeared at his chambers. There could be no good reason for him wanting to see Kama. Amonmose had ordered him to protect her, and that’s exactly what he would do, even if it meant denying the grand vizier access to her.
Before Nadesh could continue his pleadings, Kama pulled open the door, and the strong weight of the wood collapsed behind him. Still, Baal did not lessen his viselike hold. Nadesh flailed in the air with Baal on one side of him and Kama on the other.
Kama stood back in shock. “In the name of all that is holy, what is going on here?” she demanded. She blinked rapidly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the bright light of the corridor.
Baal and Nadesh spoke at the same time, Baal’s deep voice drowning out Nadesh’s incoherent squeals. Kama held both hands up, as if she could physically thwart the cacophony of voices. She motioned to Baal to release Nadesh, then cast a hostile look at the man who was responsible for her prison sentence. “I thought I made myself clear, Nadesh. What business have you in the palace?” she asked pointedly.
Nadesh rubbed his sore neck. His breathing was shallow, and he stared at Kama, then he took a deep breath and bent before her on one knee. “My Lady, I come asking for your forgiveness.”
She sneered. “Now, I am ‘Your Lady’ when before, I was a common Nubian whore?”
Nadesh swallowed
“The error was mine,” he admitted. “I used poor judgment. My only fallacy was in believing that I was acting in the best interests of the Pharaoh.”
She dropped her jaw. “By lying to him, locking me in prison, and coveting his crown? You make a mockery of me, pretending to be contrite, offering your feeble excuses for your sinister actions.” She eyed him with contempt. “You must think me an ignorant buffoon to believe such a lame performance. The only remorse you feel is that your heinous scheme has been uncovered.”
Nadesh shook his head and rose to his full height. He looked her straight in the eye when he spoke. “It is true, I have had my way for many years. And I have not always been righteous.” He backtracked when he saw her look of rebuff. “I have never been righteous,” he corrected himself. “I never had to be. I married wealthy women, and in my role as grand vizier, I’ve had money and power. No one ever challenged my authority.
“As second in command to the Pharaoh, I hold great influence. Amonmose respects my opinion, and I am greatly rewarded for my council. I want to be grand vizier and naught else. This position affords me power without the responsibility of answering to the citizens. I answer only to Amonmose. I have never coveted his crown. I had no reason to do so.
“You think I am jealous of him? You are wrong.” He looked at the ground, avoiding her eyes. “I was jealous of
you
. From the moment you arrived, you made Amonmose question himself. He changed. He no longer kept council with me. You were fast becoming his first priority. I worried for myself, and I worried for him. I loved him like a son, and there you were, infiltrating the bond I’d built between us. I didn’t know how to handle you,” he admitted. “So, I fought you every chance I got. My foolish hatred blinded me to everything else.” He gave her a pleading look. “I ask for your forgiveness not because I have been caught, but because for the first time in my life, I want to do the honorable thing.”
Kama stared at him, speechless. She’d never seen this side of Nadesh, and she wasn’t certain if he could be trusted. He’d made her life miserable since the day he and his men tried to rape her in Aswan. He was evil incarnate. Did she dare believe he could change? She decided she would not grapple with this decision on her own. She would talk to Mutema in the morning and get her thoughts. She knew her mother slept soundly right now, guarded in her old room by the ever-faithful Shu.
“We will speak again tomorrow,” she told him. “I am tired now and slumber has clouded my thoughts.”
Nadesh nodded. “I should like to speak to Amonmose as well,” he said. “I would like to explain my behavior to him so there is no misunderstanding. I can mend this broken relationship. I give you my vow and my allegiance.”
Kama thought it over. Yes, she would rather have Amonmose present. “When he returns, I will send a page for you.”
Nadesh frowned. “Returns? From where?”
“I…am not sure. When I awoke, he was not with me.” She gave Baal a questioning look. If Amonmose had left during the night, he would know of it.
“He’s gone to meet Meketen,” Baal supplied.
“At this late hour?”
Baal nodded. “He requested to meet him at his temple most urgently.”
Kama brushed past the both of them. “I’m going to find him,” she said tersely. Her tone invited no questions.
Baal stalked after her, brandishing his heavy khopesh. “Not without me,” he said.
Horror washed over Nadesh. His gut instinct told him that Amonmose was in danger. Whoever was enemy to the Pharaoh was also enemy to him. He had foolishly left his own weapon behind, but that did not stop him from following Kama and Baal. He would prove to all of them where his loyalties lay.
Chapter Twenty-four
Amonmose found Meketen waiting at the temple as promised. His chief counselor looked haggard as though he’d lost weight recently. Amonmose had not noticed it before. Perhaps he’d been too preoccupied with his own problems. “I received your note,” Amonmose told him.
“Thank you for meeting me,” Meketen said, stepping forward. His face was devoid of any emotion. He looked small and insignificant next to the towering stone columns that dominated the temple. His feet were bare, and they made almost no sound trekking across the jeweled, ornate tiles on the floor.
“I know you’ve been under a great deal of pressure lately,” Meketen said. “You must have experienced great distress losing your memory and having to relearn everything about yourself.”
“It was frustrating,” Amonmose admitted.
“Yet, you have surpassed all expectations. A weaker man would have crumbled.”
“Perhaps.”
“You are a strong man, there is no doubt. To have survived battle with the Hyksos, endured severe wounds, and had your memories ravaged by amnesia. That takes strength. Truthfully, I never thought you had that kind of strength. But you survived each accident untouched, like water slipping through a sieve.”
Amonmose sensed bitterness in Meketen’s carefully chosen words. “I am blessed by the gods,” Amonmose said. “They supplied me with the talents I need to outwit my opponents. From what I’ve learned about the Hyksos, they were a nation of incompetent fools, who became leaders only through a few lucky skirmishes.”
Meketen’s face contorted with anger. “The Hyksos are more shrewd than you’ll ever know! Your father realized how cunning they were, but by the time he found out, it was too late. He paid for that knowledge with his life.”
Amonmose scowled. “You pulled me from my bed—”
“It was a risk for you to come here and put your trust in me.” Meketen’s beady eyes grew hard and unforgiving. “But it was a risk you should not have taken.”
Amonmose felt chills spread along his entire body. It was then that he knew. “You killed my father.”
A deadly smile lifted the corners of Meketen’s lips. “And here I thought I was going to have to send you to your grave in ignorance.
“Why did you do it? So you could be Pharaoh?”
Meketen snapped. “Of course, you idiot! I came to Thebes when your father was still a young man. He had no idea I was a Hyksos prince. Nobody did.”
Amonmose sneered. “You weren’t satisfied with running the Hyksos Empire? You had to have more?”
“I had to have
something
. I was born as the third son. Even if I killed my eldest brother, the next son would then be in line for the throne. One death might be regarded as an accident, but two suspicious deaths would look like murder. I would obviously be guilty then. That would never do. So, I came to Thebes, invented a new identity for myself, and the rest is, well you know, history.”
“Why kill my father when you could have continued to be a royal advisor, even after his death? You are living proof of that.”
“And be the lackey of some Egyptian? Why be a lackey when I could be pharaoh. After your father, there was only you.” A dark look crossed his face. “But Nadesh guarded you fiercely. By the time I could get you alone, it was nearly two years later. You had already begun developing into a respectable pharaoh—well protected by your bodyguards. I am patient, Amonmose. But my patience has run out.” A dagger appeared in his hand. “All this time you’ve been worried about your past, when it is your future you should be concerned with.”
Amonmose circled him warily, regretting that he had not listened to Baal. He’d left his chambers unarmed. “Is this the mark of a real man?” Amonmose said. “You lull me here with no way to defend myself, while you brandish a knife in my face?”
“You leave me no choice,” Meketen sneered. “Each time I plan some fatal accident, you escape. I could not give you an opportunity to prevail this time.”
Amonmose’s eyes narrowed to venomous slits. “You put the snake in my path that day.”
“And I loosened a wheel on your chariot! And still you lived…”
Meketen lunged, and Amonmose jumped out the way, sidestepping the long blade by mere inches. The older man sliced angrily through the air, making quick stabs in an effort to strike Amonmose wherever he could. But Amonmose lithely shifted his body back and forth, avoiding the deadly blade. He jumped back to separate them, and the next time Meketen advanced toward him, he was prepared. He ducked and plowed his shoulder into Meketen’s soft belly. The force knocked both of them to the ground and sent the knife sliding away. They grappled for it, but Amonmose reached it first. Meketen jumped on his back, and smashed his head to the ground. Amonmose’s chin crashed against the tile. His teeth clenched as Meketen slammed his head against the tiled floor a second time. He gripped the dagger tighter as he fought the dizzying pain. His vision became blurry and white spots clouded his sight. His heart beat wildly in his ears like thunder.