Reflections in the Nile (27 page)

Cheftu almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. Now the Egyptians were polluting their own pools! Before, only the Nile was responsible. His laughter stuck in his throat when he saw Thut staring with total revulsion at his magi.

“You impotent women!” he raged. “You have taken this trickery and multiplied it into a plague!” He grabbed a sword and advanced upon two unfortunate slant-eyed magi. One of them he ran through with the sword. The other vanished into saffron-colored smoke. Cheftu slid back through the jostling crowd, looking for the Apiru. They were gone.

Wise choice.

Belting his kilt between his legs, Cheftu set out for his apartments in a leisurely lope through the gardens, his stride broken only by leaping frogs.

C
HLOE'S EYES OPENED TO TOTAL DARKNESS.
She felt pressure in her head and chest. The room was so stuffy! The very air was palpitating. Slowly she sat up, trying to control her slight nausea. She still had not adjusted to the total darkness. She shuffled to the garden door and leaned against it, listening. The peaceful crooning of the cicadas was gone. Some other noise had drowned it out, a sound she could not place.

She looked up, her mind clearing a little. The clerestory windows that made the room comfortable were blocked off.
Strange.
After she'd opened the garden door, she rubbed her eyes, trying to reconcile what she saw with what she thought she saw.

Before she could, a cold, clammy
something
brushed her naked leg, then another something. Chloe squealed and ran for the couch, squashing something yielding and damp under her foot.

Her cries brought Meneptah, who flooded the room with light. Chloe's eyes adjusted, and she saw the floor was alive with amphibians. They created a path for Meneptah.

“My lady,” he said, “take my arm and I will lead you out.”

Chloe stood on the couch, kicking off the frogs who dared jump up. Disgusting! Meneptah offered his hand, and she stepped down gingerly. They walked slowly toward the door, and Chloe noticed the frogs did not come close to Meneptah but crowded in on her. There must be a hundred of them!

She saw the open garden door and more frogs hopping into the room. Chloe and Meneptah joined Ehuru in the frog-cluttered passageway, progressing slowly to Cheftu's frog-free apartments. She tried not to step on them in her bare feet, but they were everywhere. The gushy feeling of crushed amphibian flesh made her shriek every time. Chloe blamed her reaction on the shock of the situation. At least that was what she rationalized to herself. In reality it was the frogs’ size, coupled with their defiant stares daring her to step on them, that she found so disconcerting. She wasn't up to a staring match with anyone, particularly a frog. She ground her teeth and stepped carefully, cringing to Meneptah.

They reached Cheftu's door and Meneptah stood before it, barring it with his body. The frogs did not jump past him. Chloe ducked under his arm and slipped into the room.

Not a frog in sight. Meneptah closed the door behind them.

She looked around Cheftu's apartments. “Where is Lord Cheftu?”

“He is in the audience chamber with the Apiru and the prince,” Ehuru said. ‘Thutmosis is asking the Apiru to intercede with their god and take away the frogs. My lord,” he said, “claims that this god will take them away at the prince's request.”

Chloe nodded.

“Now, my lady,” he said, “please rest in the adjoining room and I will wake you when he returns.”

Chloe yawned and followed him into the next room. After days of no activity, the gauntlet of a froggy hall had been wearing. She was so tired that even the headrest felt good.

C
HEFTU ENTERED THE SMALL TORCHLIT CHAMBER.
The walls were painted with the traditional scenes of Pharaoh smiting his enemies, with Thut's substitution of his dead father as pharaoh instead of Hatshepsut, living forever! A small but notable defiance, Cheftu thought. He bowed slightly to the other nobles milling around the room. After accepting a cup of date wine from one of the beaded servants, her eyes downcast as she moved among the men, he joined the others waiting for Thutmosis. The seven days of frogs had been awful. Thankfully no one had died from any poisons they might carry. It had just been inconvenient.

Never in his life had so many frogs left the Nile, though it was not uncommon for them to reproduce and overrun small areas from time to time. It happened infrequently and thus held no true significance. These frogs had been bigger and more aggressive than any he could remember a deliberate snub to HenHeqet, the Egyptian goddess of conception and procreation, who was often depicted as a frog.

They stood as Thut entered the room, his titles intoned by a young soldier who also served as chamberlain. Cheftu found it interesting that Thut was dressed in his nightclothes—yet another way to scorn the Apiru—even if he did have to beg their mercy.

“Prince Thutmosis,” said Balhazzar, “what shall happen?”

Thut seated himself and motioned for wine. “I have the Apiru's word that, as of tomorrow, there will be frogs only in the Nile.”

The magi's faces broke into grins. One of Thut's confidants said, “They were not pleased that you would not let them leave to worship their god. How do you intend to avoid further curses?”

Thut drank deeply of his cup and then wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “I shall refuse to see them.”

Affirmative murmuring greeted his comment.

“The times when this god has confounded us, he did it in the form of Ramoses and Aharon. So I shall simply refuse to see them.” It was quiet. “The real problem,” Thut said, “will be the dying frogs. We must organize means to dispose of them.”

He motioned for a scribe and a map of the area. The rest of the night they created shifts and wrote directives to all the lords in the neighboring nomes, with strong suggestions of how to get rid of the millions of dead frogs on the morrow.

WASET

H
ATSHEPSUT TURNED IN
S
ENMUT'S ARMS.
Ra's rays were journeying across the golden floor, and she could hear Hapuseneb and his priests chanting at the door as they had every morning since she had crowned herself pharaoh.

“Awake in peace, thou Cleansed One, in peace!

Awake in peace, thou Reborn Horus, in peace!

Awake in peace, thou Eastern Soul, in peace!

Awake in peace, Harakhti, in peace!

Thou sleepest in the barque of the evening,

Thou awakest in the barque of the morning,

For thou art he who soareth over the gods.

There is no other god who soareth over thee!
”

Senmut's dark eyes opened.

“The god's greetings to you, precious brother,” she said softly. His lips twisted into a slow smile as he brought her face to his, slowly exploring her lips. Hat kissed back for a moment, distracted. She sat up abruptly. “Brother! What do you hear?”

He concentrated for a moment and said, “Nothing, save the passion flowing through my veins. Come to the couch”

She sprang away and walked to the garden door. Cautiously she opened it. Silence. “The frogs are silent!” After calling for servant girls, she rapped on the door and notified the soldiers standing guard that she and Senmut would go for a chariot ride this morning.

He was gone when she returned.

Senmut joined Hatshepsut at the stables, where her horses stamped with impatience. He took in her abbreviated kilt and the red leather collar that just brushed the tips of her gold-painted breasts. She wore matching sandals, gloves, and a close-fitted crown with Egypt's cobra and vulture embossed in gold. He leapt nimbly into the gold chariot beside her, and they were away, Hatshepsut at the reins.

They raced away from Waset, up the Nile. It was glorious to feel Ra on their backs, to have the freedom of this moment. Hatshepsut turned wide of Waset and headed into the desert, the tiny chariot kicking up sand and careening wildly in the uncertain medium. Senmut leaned forward and kissed the straining muscle in her left arm, then settled back for a long, hot ride. The desert terrain flashed past, pale gold sand in undulating mounds, canopied by the turquoise blue of the endless sky. Hours later she let the horses slow as they came to the enormous rock face.

She turned to him, a smile on her wide lips. “Show me the progress, architect!” He stepped down and walked to the far side of the face, kicking back a pile of rocks until Hat could see the dark opening beyond. She followed as Senmut crawled down the ladder carved into the wall, and they were in darkness. Only the rhythmic chanting of workers in some other room indicated this was anything other than a cave. Hat's lips met his in a sweet and passionate kiss as they clung together in the dark.

In their tomb.

Senmut took the reins on their return, and Hat leaned against the side. “What is it, love?” he asked. Her eyes were filled with tears.

“I was thinking of the painting.”

He had done it, a vision of their joined afterlife, as a gift to her. Afterward she had made love to him in the darkened dust, slowly and patiently, still as treasured as their first time together, when he had come to her, after the death of her husband and half-brother, Thutmosis II.

The stench met them before they saw the water. The frogs. It was as if Amun-Ra's hand had touched them in one moment and they had all died—all the different kinds, at different stages of growth. Already their bodies were alive with other life, spewing forth the maggots and flies that could quickly become a deadly epidemic. Senmut swatted away the clustering flies from his eyes with the leather flail of his office.

The
rekkit
had swept together the carcasses and left them to further rot in the sun. The smell was overpowering. Senmut looked to Hat, offering her his sop cloth.

She looked at him coldly. “The rest of Egypt must suffer; why should I bury my nose in a perfumed cloth? Drive slowly.”

They passed through many small villages on the bank of the Nile, each with piles of rotting frogs. By the time they reached the palace gates, they were accustomed to it.

GOSHEN

T
HE FEAST WAS MANDATORY.
Thut, in an attempt to raise a nervous morale, had planned a fantastic celebration. RaEm was still abed, recovering, but Cheftu's official presence was required. His glance flitted from one small table of nobles to another. He was certain one of them had placed Basha to kill RaEm, not to mention abort the child. Cheftu drank from his cup. Who was the father? Where could he be? Had he fled? Cursed cowardly swine, Cheftu thought. Impregnating her and leaving her alone to face the consequences.

He saw a servant enter and present Thut with a beautiful glass vial. The room was full, perfumed cones melting, their sweet scent mingling with the hundreds of bouquets of fresh flowers. Amidst the laughter and feasting, Thut opened the jar, apparently a gift, and poured it out.

Dust.

Cheftu could still see the grains falling through the air when they came to life and dispersed from the table. Nobles and slaves alike began to swat and slap, trying to kill the tiny bugs.

Thut looked over to the magi. “Do something!” he bellowed. Balhazzar, by far the most advanced magus, looked around the room. The food and wine were ignored as people fought the determined insects.

“Prince Thutmosis,” Balhazzar said quietly, “I can do nothing. This is indeed the finger of a god.”

Thutmosis stood, bringing the whole party to their feet, then threw his golden cup at Balhazzar. “Get out!” he yelled. “Begone from Egypt by dawn tomorrow or your life is forfeit!”

Balhazzar bowed deeply and left the room. Thut sat heavily on his stool. “We celebrate, friends!” It was a command. Cheftu watched as the nobles sat down and began to eat and drink… and swat and scratch.

T
HE GNATS MERGED INTO A PLAGUE OF FLIES
as the week progressed. The heat was intense, but Chloe was improving. She thought she might actually survive. The fever after her miscarriage had drained her strength, but her bruises were faded and her wounds were scabbed over and healing. The “other” was livid about Basha's duplicity, and Chloe still had no answers as to who the father was. She now was healthy enough to resume her priestess duties. Cheftu kept his distance; the caring, gentle healer she had glimpsed had reverted to a coolly methodical physician who checked her body with emotionless scrutiny. But D'vorah was always there, gentle and pale, with a sweet smile, making up for his callousness.

Chloe walked through the palace at Thut's request, noting that these flies were not
just
huge Egyptian flies that crowded the eyes, but Wring flies. She was wrapped in several swathes of linen, leaving visible only her eyes, surrounded by heavy kohl, and her feet, covered by lace-up sandals. The flies bit through the cloth, again and again, until Chloe wanted to scream from frustration. Bumps rose and swelled beneath her linen.

She was admitted to a room inhabited by similarly clothed people. For a moment she grinned. They looked like a bunch of walking mummies. She recognized a few faces from her dancing debut. No Cheftu. Thut turned to her. He had not and did not know anything, it appeared. Nesbek had just used Thut's name as a prod she couldn't resist. May Sobek bite him on the backside! She should have known a man with the desire and sensitivity to paint pottery would shun the rank vulgarity of Nesbek's hobbies.

Thut addressed them. “You are among the most powerful workers of the gods in Lower Egypt. You are some of the most landed nobles in Lower Egypt. I have called you because an evil deity seeks to destroy Egypt. The things that have happened here, my couriers report, have happened everywhere. Pharaoh's court in Upper Egypt is in turmoil, and the Great House spends whole days interceding for the people in Karnak. I need your wisdom. Egypt needs your wisdom.”

A magus spoke. “You must let these Israelites go to worship. There is no other solution. They are, after all, only a part of the Apiru. They have never assimilated, and perhaps when they return they will be more willing to be Egyptians, to accept our ways.”