Sphinx's Queen (12 page)

“You said you didn’t want his death!”

“I don’t. My heart is pure, free of his blood. I won’t touch him.”

“No, but you’ll leave him to die in pain, from fever and infection.”

Thutmose was unmoved. “Better that than to die a traitor’s death. You see how much I care about my brother? I’m only doing this to spare him.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off Thutmose’s face. There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his voice or his features.
He believes what he’s saying
, I thought, aghast.
He
believes
it. His mind’s become as twisted as a knot of serpents. Lady Isis have mercy on him!

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell the soldiers where to find their prince?” I asked in a low voice.

“Their
prince
is here,” he said haughtily. “And if you say one word to them about Amenophis, you’ll regret it.”

“I can’t be condemned to
two
deaths.” I defied him to argue with that.

“One for you.” He drew out the words, savoring them. “One for your family.”

My hand curved protectively around the flint knife. It was so small, so very small, a blade meant for delicate work to save a man’s life. Yet it was also big enough to end one.

Could I do it?
I thought.
Could I use this knife against this twisted, miserable boy, spill his blood, kill him? He’s wanted to kill me for a long time. He’d kill my family without a second thought. He talks so casually about leaving his brother to die! No. I can’t do it. It would make me as bad as he is. Worse than he is: My mind is clear and sound. I wouldn’t even have the excuse of madness
.

But I must do something, or his madness will become a wildfire that consumes all that I love
.

“You win, Thutmose,” I said. “I won’t tell your men about Amenophis. If the gods are kind, he’ll recover from his fever and return to Thebes on his own. I’m only sorry I won’t be able to see your face on the day he comes back to court and tells Pharaoh everything.”

“Pfff! Everything? Nothing. Without proof, his words will be no more than the rantings of a lunatic. His actions will only confirm that. Running away with you—”

I grabbed one of the flasks of castor-bean oil and smashed the clay neck with the hilt of the flint knife. With one smooth motion, I cast the contents over Thutmose, and before he could react, I did the same with a second marked flask. He was gaping as I dashed past him, but he still retained enough presence of mind to try to stop me. I jabbed his hand with the knife. The wound would be small but enough to keep him at bay until I reached my goal.

“Look at me, Thutmose,” I said grimly, holding the burning oil lamp in front of me. “I want you to look into my eyes so that you know I’m not afraid of you.”

“You’re not afraid; you’re crazy,” he said with disgust, cradling his bleeding hand. “My men will—”

“You won’t call them.” I took a step closer to him. “If you do, I swear by every god that lives, I’ll set this lamp to your oil-soaked clothing and skin. I’ll do it! You’ll be in flames before the first soldier comes through that doorway.”

I glared at him, striving to look as menacing as possible. He had to believe that I’d fulfill my threat. I had to make myself act as though I’d turned into a creature as heartless as he, or everything would be lost.
O Thoth, lord of wisdom, sometimes you use your powers for trickery, too. Lend me your divine skill to mislead my enemy! Turn my face into a mask of ruthlessness as frightening as Thutmose’s own!

Thutmose’s face paled. He held up his hands in surrender. “All right, Nefertiti. Go in peace. I won’t try to stop you. Take the honey, take bandages for my brother, take anything you like.”

“I’m not a fool, Thutmose,” I said. “If I leave you like this, I won’t have gone twenty steps before you rouse your men.” I waved the lamp at the remaining jars and flasks from the medicine casket. “Pick up the poppy juice,” I told him.

It took him some time to find the right jar. He couldn’t take his eyes off me and had to keep picking them up, one after another, so that he could glance at the writing on the seals. Finally he found the clay vessel that held the sleeping potion. He scraped off the wax seal, removed the stopper, and raised it partway to his lips.

“How—how much should I take?” he asked.

I had no idea, but I hazarded a guess. “Two mouthfuls.”

“Are you sure? Too much, and I might never wake up again.”

I had the same concern. I didn’t want him dead, just sleeping too deeply to call for his men. However, I couldn’t let him know I cared if he lived or died. I took a step closer, brandishing the lamp. “I won’t argue with you anymore, Thutmose. I’ll just give you a choice: Drink or burn.”

He drank.

The moments that followed left my nerves scraped raw. It seemed as if the poppy juice would never work or that I’d ordered him to take too small a dose. Then I saw his eyelids begin to droop, his whole body begin to slump.

“May I—please, may I—?” He nodded feebly to his bed. His words were slow and slurred. I nodded, and he lay down. I hovered over him, heard the rhythm of his breath, and just to be sure, I pinched his arm. He didn’t stir. There could be no doubt of it: He was wrapped in the spell of sleep.

I put the lamp down and began searching all the chests in the tent as fast as I could. I took clothing, food, and half the contents of the medicine casket. My ragged dress was left in a heap on the floor, replaced by a pair of Thutmose’s linen kilts that I fastened together to make a decent garment. Two goatskin bags went over my shoulders. I didn’t know what sort of drink they held, but anything would be welcome. Just as I was about to steal away, my eyes lit on Thutmose’s bow and quiver. As soon as I secured the arrows so that they wouldn’t rattle against each other, I left.

I had no light to guide my steps as I made my way from Thutmose’s encampment. I couldn’t risk taking the oil lamp and having some restless soldier catch sight of it. I had to make do using the moon and stars and memory. Once I reached the canal, my road was easier.

I returned with the faint light that comes before true dawn. I found Nava and Amenophis where I’d left them, in the shelter of the ruined house. As soon as she heard me approach, Nava turned her tearstained face in my direction.

“Where
were
you?” Her mournful greeting tore my heart.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” I said. “Will you forgive me? Look at what I have for you.” I opened one of the sacks I’d stuffed with food from Thutmose’s tent and filled her hands with bread.

While she ate, I knelt beside Amenophis. He seemed to be resting comfortably, and his skin was no longer flushed, but I had to lay my hand on his forehead to be sure.

“Where were you, Nefertiti?” He half opened his eyes, and a wisp of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

“Nowhere I want to go again,” I replied. “Your brother’s tent.”

“What?” Now his eyes flew wide open. “Is
that
where you went last night? Did you lose your mind?”

I told him the simple truth: “I wouldn’t have gone if I’d had any choice about it. I was afraid that if I didn’t find something to treat your fever and that scorpion bite, I’d lose you.” I cocked my head and studied him closely. “Maybe I was too reckless. You seem better. You don’t feel hot anymore.”

“I have Nava to thank for that. I don’t know what helped more—all the cool cloths she kept putting on my head or all the prayers she offered to her god. You know, I asked her
why
her people had only one god, and she said she wasn’t sure, but she thought it was because if a god was supposed to be able to do anything and everything, why would you need more than one?” He laughed. “She may have a point.”

“Well, how powerful
were
her prayers?” I asked, looking down at his foot. I’d hoped for a happy surprise, but the swelling looked no better and daylight let me see the deep purple discoloration surrounding the sting. I could hardly stand the sight of it.

“Oh, Amenophis!” I cried in sympathy. “Can you move it?”

“Yes, but I’d rather not. Last night when I
had
to get up to—you know—I accidentally put a bit of weight on it. The next thing I knew, the whole world flashed white, then red, then black. I must have fainted, because I woke up with Nava dribbling water all over my face.”

I wanted to throw my arms around him and beg the gods to let me share half the burden of his pain.
And how will an outburst like that do him any good?
I asked myself.
He’ll just feel guilty for having caused you so much grief. Forget tears—do something useful
.

I planted my hands on my thighs. “We’ll have to do something about that. If we’re not far away from here soon, Thutmose will catch up to us. I wasn’t thinking about covering my tracks when I came back here, and if any of his men are good hunters, they might be able to pick up my trail. Nava!”

“Mmph?” The Habiru child answered me around a mouthful of bread.

“Please bring Amenophis something to eat, too, and let me have those goatskin bags. If we’re fortunate, at least one of them is full of wine. I remember Mother using that as well as honey to clean wounds.”

I gave thanks when I discovered that though the larger of two goatskins held watered beer, the smaller did hold wine. Together, Nava and I bustled about, assembling all the rest of the things I wanted to use for treating Amenophis’s sting.

When we were done, his foot was clean and comfortably swaddled in linen bandages. He regarded it with a wry smile. “It’s too bad that only men can serve as embalming priests in the House of Beauty. You’ve done a marvelous job of wrapping my foot.”

“Don’t praise me until you’ve tried putting weight on it again,” I said. “The people brought to the House of Beauty are all done with feeling pain. Here, put your arm around my shoulder and let’s see.”

With me helping him stand up and Nava helping him keep his balance, Amenophis took a few tentative steps before joyfully declaring that his foot no longer hurt.

“Well, not
too
much,” he added when I asked him to swear to it. “But it’s really much better. I can walk on it, I promise! And you don’t need to support me like this; I can get around on my own.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said as Nava and I lowered him to the ground. “We’ll leave this place as soon as we’ve eaten.”

“Now? But it’s almost full daylight.”

“Your brother knows we’re near. It’s no use trying to hide from him anymore. Now we have to outdistance him.”

“Then should we waste time eating when we should be moving?”

“I think—I hope—I bought us enough time for this meal. Thutmose’s hunters won’t come after us until he commands them, so unless he gives them orders in his sleep, we’re safe.”

Amenophis looked doubtful. “Look at the light, Nefertiti. Thutmose must be awake by now. My brother has never slept late in his life.”

“He will this morning,” I said with a self-satisfied smile. And while we enjoyed our first adequate meal in days, I told Amenophis and Nava what had happened in Thutmose’s camp.

“Would you
really
have set him on fire, Nefertiti?” Nava asked, her eyes as round as drinking cups.

I could not lie. “I don’t know. I would never
want
to do something like that to any human being, but when so much was at stake and I had so few choices …” I sighed. “I never want to face a decision like that again.”

We finished eating and took stock of our new supplies. Nava and Amenophis were happy to have clothing that wasn’t half dirt, half rags, though it took some clever folding and tying to get one of Thutmose’s garments to fit Nava. Once she was outfitted, I sent her to the stand of dead sycamores to see if there were any fallen branches that Amenophis could use for a staff. The only one that came close to being the proper length was still too short for him, but it would have to do.

“I’ll be as curved as a shepherd’s crook if I lean on this too long,” he joked as he tried it out.

“Do you want me to look for a different one?” Nava asked eagerly, and scooted away before we could stop her.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about getting a bent back from using that staff,” I said. “You can’t walk very far, even with something to lean on.”

“You’re right.” His face fell. “Nefertiti … I think you and Nava should go on alone.”

“What? No!”

“I mean it. If we stay together, I’ll hold you back and my brother will catch us all. But if you leave me behind, you’ll have a better chance of reaching my father. He’s the only one who can help you against my brother. Don’t worry about me; I’ll get myself to Thutmose’s camp and turn myself in. The official reason for his search is to find me, right? Well, once he has me, that’s that; he’ll have to go back to Thebes.”

“Thutmose believes there’s nothing he
has
to do except have his own way in everything,” I countered. “He’ll find some excuse to continue the hunt, and if he has you”—I closed my eyes—“he has me.”

“What are you say—”

“Nefertiti! Amenophis! Look what I found!” Nava’s high, sweet voice demanded our attention. The Habiru girl came running toward us with a small, familiar creature bounding playfully at her heels.

“Orow!” Ta-Miu declared as she outdistanced Nava and leaped to the top of one tumbledown wall.

“Bast witness this, she must have followed me!” I cried. “Why would she do that?”

“You’re nicer than the bad prince,” Nava said. “She knows that.”

“Rrrr.” Was that the cat’s way of telling us she agreed with the child?

“Not even the priests and priestesses of Bast can explain why cats act as they do.” Amenophis scratched Ta-Miu on the white blaze marking her brow. The star shape was much sharper; the cat must have been washing herself. “But I think Nava’s right. This is good, Nefertiti. If we have Thutmose’s cat—the cat you ‘killed’—we have the proof that will clear your name and make my brother pay for all his wrongdoing. It’s no longer just our word against his.”

I stood beside him and rested my cheek on his shoulder. “This is a sign from the gods. They’ve sent us Ta-Miu to help us restore Ma’at’s balance of truth when we speak to Pharaoh. If you let Thutmose have you now, it’s the same as throwing the gods’ gift back in their faces.”