Pharaoh's Desire (4 page)

If Dyzet was shocked by her words, she gave no indication. “The Pharaoh does not sit idle each day,” Dyzet said seriously. “There is much work to be done. He holds court daily and settles the citizens’ various legal disputes. He oversees daily purification ceremonies and religious rites for priests. He regulates duties and awards titles to government officials. As the Supreme Commander of his army, he is charged with motivating his soldiers and leading them in battle. He also controls Egypt’s vast quarries, mines, and trading fleets. And he is certainly neither pompous nor overbearing. Most women find him handsome. Don’t you?”

Kama quietly chewed her food. Her mind traveled back to the night she first saw the Pharaoh. He towered over everyone, sitting magnificently astride his horse. His amber eyes blazed each time he spoke. He was confident and regal. Yes, she would admit he was definitely pleasing to the eye. Perhaps under different circumstances, she could appreciate his outer beauty. But he and his men were responsible for her family’s death. No matter how handsome he was he would always be a monster to her.

“I do not wish to speak of him any longer,” she told Dyzet, her expression souring.

Dyzet stood up. “Then let us play Senet.”

Dyzet’s favorite pastime was playing Senet, a game in which three rows of ten squares were painted on a piece of wood. Each player had seven pieces, and the object was to move them in a snakelike fashion across the squares. The first player to get all pieces off the board while preventing the opponent from doing the same won the game.

Kama would indulge the girl occasionally, but today she preferred to sit alone and watch the city from the four windows of her spacious room. She was sequestered somewhere on the fifth floor of the palace. It was a safety precaution, she was certain. Done intentionally to prevent her from jumping out of the window and running away.

Each morning she would gaze out of her windows and watch the quiet city of Thebes transform itself into a bustling metropolis full of activity. She watched the changing of the guards so often she knew their schedule perfectly. On the south side of her room, there was an elegant garden, blooming with the most colorful plants she’d ever seen.

Escape had crossed her mind, but only briefly. Much of the time, servants were around, observing her every movement. If she did evade their watchful eyes, she would still have to navigate her way through the vast palace, past the throngs of guards and safely away from the city gates. She would never survive the bandits in the forests or the deserts that lay on the outskirts of Thebes. She had no coin and no transportation. It would be a very short-lived escape. She was homesick, but she wasn’t witless.

“I would like to be alone,” she told Dyzet.

Dyzet’s expression revealed her disappointment, but she accepted Kama’s request without question. “I will inform the servants not to disturb you,” she offered.

“That is most kind.”

Kama waited for Dyzet to leave the room before wandering to one of the open windows. Below, she saw several children playing. Their innocent laughter floated through the air and resonated in her ears. She stood and watched them as they played with their toys. Their roles were already defined even at their young ages. Little girls hugged dolls crafted from linen, and little boys pretended they were at war, enacting battles with mock swords fashioned from bent sticks. And so the cycle continued. Women had the urge to nurture. Men had the desire to destroy.

She wanted to tell the girls that they could play the same games as boys. She wanted them to know that women were just as important as men. Queen Sebek-Neferu-Ra and Queen Aah-hotep, who ruled hundreds of years ago, were competent and accomplished rulers.
 
In Nubian society, women had a place of esteem, and they were frequently consulted on political affairs.

But as Dyzet said, this was not Nubia. For every heroic story of a powerful queen, there was an equally pathetic story of a woman like her—a victim of circumstance. Her capture proved that women were often nothing more than pawns in a man’s world. So, she did not call out to the girls. She did not try to tell them what they could be. She remained silent, watching the city below, and preparing herself for her next encounter with the man who held her future in his hands.

Amonmose walked briskly down the long corridor to his meeting room, his golden flail in one hand and his walking staff in the other. A small procession followed him. His chief counselor, Meketen, dogged his heels. The short, stout man almost had to run to match the Pharaoh’s brisk pace. On Amonmose’s left, his bodyguard, Baal, kept constant watch over him. His hulking form gave the distinct impression that he could snap a man’s neck in two quite easily. On Amonmose’s right, two female servants gently waved huge fans made of ostrich plumes. Normally, he did not mind the women dispelling the thick waves of heat. But the corridors were cool today, and there was no need for their annoying presence. He waived his flair in their direction, indicating their services were no longer needed. They slipped away, seemingly brooding over their dismissal.

As Amonmose neared the meeting room, two eunuchs guarding the double doors to the meeting room bowed. The doors were then opened with a flourish. He entered and sat in a large gilded chair adorned with rare stones and carvings. As his advisors rose to greet him, he impatiently waved them away, dispensing with the pleasantries. He was not in the mood for pomp and ceremony.

 
“Nadesh, as my grand vizier, I rely on you to provide accurate military intelligence. As I am sure you know, that night in Aswan was a waste of men and effort. Have you an answer for what went wrong?
A
quick
answer,” he added, to forestall one of Nadesh’s endless rambles.

Nadesh stepped forward. Fine lines were etched into his bronzed face
,
the only hint that he was nearing fifty years of age. “One of my scouts advised me of a skirmish on the southern border of Thebes, near Esna. An envoy of Nubian soldiers stormed the city, destroying temples and looting the coffers. They left over forty people dead.”

Amonmose held up his hand. “You conveyed this same information to me days ago. Yet, I saw none of this resistance. Am I to believe you depended on the word of one scout to carry my army into battle?”

Nadesh looked offended. “Never! I have a number of sources who keep me well informed. Even now, a unit of soldiers performing routine reconnaissance has alerted me to hostile activity near the border again. The Nubians are mounting another campaign to demolish our outlying cities. Obviously, the loss of their homes and the destruction of their towns have meant nothing to them. They are like rabid dogs, foaming at the mouth, ready to conquer Egypt and usurp our power. The time has come to crush these insurgents for good!”

Amonmose listened to Nadesh’s heated words with cool indifference. “Surely, if the Nubians had initiated the first attacks, they would expect retaliation. Their soldiers would have been battle ready, prepared to take on our army. Yet, when our soldiers arrived, there was no one to put up a fight. In fact, our appearance seemed to be a complete surprise. How do you explain this?”

“Someone must have alerted them of our plans,” Nadesh responded.

“I think you were misinformed about the Nubian state of affairs in Aswan.”

“I have no regrets about that,” Nadesh said. “I will not be satisfied until they are all dead.”

Amonmose sneered. “
You
will not be satisfied until they are all dead?
I
am Pharaoh. I decide who survives and who does not. Nubia is a formidable enemy. The people are self-sufficient, politically well organized, and they have a strong military. Not only do we risk the lives of our soldiers, going to battle with them may also be cutting off a valuable trade route.
 
You talk too much of bloodlust and not enough of diplomacy.”

“Respectfully, I agree with you—in part. The Nubians grow in strength and number each day. They give no thought to the lives of our citizens when they raid our border towns. Their sneak attacks are crippling us. If we do not stop them now, they will overtake us soon.” Nadesh’s voice filled with anger and conviction. “We need to strike hard and fast into the hearts of our enemies. If there is any indication of weakness, if anyone survives, the next generation will grow with twice the envy and hatred.”

Nadesh stroked his thin, black beard with the palm of his hand. “As far as their trade route, Nubia is perfectly located to receive goods from the interior of Africa. If we conquer them,
we
can control all the shipments of gold, ivory, precious oils, spices, and animal skins.” He held his palms up in a pleading gesture. “Let us not be naïve, your grace. Egypt is rich with flourishing trade, prosperous farming, and the greatest water source in the entire world. We would be fools to think that no one would come to challenge us for it. But we would be stupid to wait on them to do so. We
must
be the aggressor. We must not sit idly by and wonder if, and when, they will attack again.”

Meketen, the chief counselor, spoke up. “I am in agreement with Nadesh. With the increasing number of foreigners entering our city gates and the threat of war looming from neighboring countries greedy for our resources, Egypt is in state of turmoil. Soon, it will be time for you to take a bride, Amonmose. Would you have your wife live in fear in her own city? Afraid to go to the market? Terrified to venture to the temples? Our enemies are just waiting for the opportunity to strike. And when they are successful, what will become of Egypt? Looters and thieves will flood the streets. Our people will be destitute. Our temples will be desecrated. Our culture will be forgotten. We must show these mongrels what we do to those who test the authority of the Pharaoh.”

Amonmose watched the men standing before him. In the past, both had shown superior combat knowledge with impressive military records. Meketen was by far the more rational one, but he was not a brilliant strategist like Nadesh. Leading the pampered life of a royal chief counselor had easily added excessive pounds to his already short stature. He now reminded Amonmose of the god Bes, who stood in the doorways of many Egyptian homes, protecting the occupants against evil. Still, both men had been advisors to his father, and over the last twenty years, he, too, had come to rely on their counsel. Amonmose turned to his third advisor, Royal Treasurer Hai. “Have you an opinion on this?”

Hai cleared his throat before speaking. “Pharaoh, since your rule began, there has been nothing but stability in the land. Our citizens are prosperous. Our grain silos are always full. The soldiers are happy and well paid. Trade flourishes. But your throne is being constantly threatened by these foreigners. If you lose power, it will devastate trade relations and leave our currency undervalued. Workers will panic, production will decrease, prices will increase, and we’ll have complete anarchy. We cannot live with the constant threat of Nubia at our throats. I say it’s time to destroy them once and for all.”

Amonmose pondered the advice of his council. Nadesh seemed agitated, emotional, as though the attacks from Nubia were personal. Kill every last Nubian? That was pure hatred disguised as counsel.

And Meketen? The consequences of inaction that he foresaw were ludicrous. Thebes destroyed? Their culture forgotten? Thebes had the greatest quantity and variety of goods anywhere in the world. Even if the city was captured by foreigners, it would never be destroyed.

As for Hai, his only concern appeared to be fear of losing control over Egypt’s economy. He lamented over the country’s currency as though it came from his own purse strings. Over the years, Amonmose had seen him change from an efficient accountant to an overstuffed miser.

“Gentlemen, I have heard all of your arguments, and I’ve come to my own conclusion. We’ve spent an enormous amount of resources fighting Assyrian, Mesopotamian and Libyan invasions. There is a time for battle and a time for peace. Waging war against Nubia is like stirring a bee’s nest. I am content to leave that nest alone for now. We will keep our reconnaissance troops in place, and any new developments should be immediately reported to me. Are my orders clear?”

The advisors masked their disappointment with affirmative nods. While they might not agree with their Pharaoh, they would not dare to oppose him. Amonmose left the room and retired to the solitude of his chambers.
 
He looked at the oversized map of Nubia that lay on his table. It was at times like this when he thought of his father and wondered what his strategy would have been. Amonmose never got a chance to really know either of his parents. His mother had died giving birth to him, and his father was killed in battle when he was barely twelve. The irony was not lost on him. His parents died so he could live.