Sphinx's Queen (15 page)

Amenophis noticed and said, “Nefertiti,
what
are you thinking?” So I told him; I told everyone.

“No, no, my lady, you mustn’t,” Samut said, shaking his head violently. But there was a faint trace of hope in his voice. He was desperate for some way to save his son, and so far, what I’d suggested was the only plan that wouldn’t worsen the child’s situation if it didn’t work.

My
fate, if it failed, would be another story—a grim one—but I would take that chance.

“What other choice do we have?” I asked Samut. “And I won’t be doing this alone. Each of you will have a part in it. I know I can rely on you.” I looked at Nava. “Now the gods have entrusted all of us with the opportunity to save another life. I can’t turn my back on it. Stand with me again, my friends.” I stretched out my hands. “Please.”

Nava was the first to leap up and grab my left hand. Amenophis got to his feet somewhat more slowly and took my right.

“You make it impossible for me to say no to you, Nefertiti,” he said.

“You can always tell me no,” I replied with a half-smile. “But I won’t always listen.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now tell us what we have to do.”

We worked hard all day, preparing ourselves for the night to come. Samut looked ready to collapse from exhaustion. It was his job to bring us the supplies we needed to make my plan succeed. He had to make several trips back and forth to his village to do so without raising questions among the other workmen and their families. We all knew the value of keeping things secret. No decent person would allow the violation and pillage of a tomb. If the villagers learned about the would-be robbers, they’d react without thinking and attempt an open attack. No need to guess what would happen to Samut’s son then.

With this in mind, we were all startled to see Samut returning to our cave accompanied by a sturdy, plain-faced woman. He introduced her as Kawit, the sister of the nasal-voiced tomb robber.

“She’s looked after my son many times since my wife died,” he told us. “I’m very thankful for that.” There was more affection than gratitude in his voice when he spoke about her. I wondered if she noticed. “She’s the only one who thought to ask me about where he’s been.”

The woman snorted. “We live in a village full of people who care only about the doings within their own four walls. Of course I asked about the child! If I were married, I’d pray to the gods every day to bless me with such a sweet boy. And a fine answer I got, once I bullied it out of this one.” She jabbed Samut with her elbow. “That brother of mine is the only family I’ve got left alive, but he’s always been trouble. When he ran away with those nasty friends of his, I praised the gods. Now I hear he’s back like
this?
To rob a tomb and condemn his heart to eternal death? I’ll push him off a clifftop first!”

“You know we can’t make any open moves against those men,” I told her.

Kawit snorted again, louder and more eloquently. “You think I don’t know that? Samut tells me you three are nothing but a bunch of deep, dark secrets. You’re welcome to keep ’em, but you’d best know you’re not the only ones with the wit to keep your mouths shut. Here.” She was carrying a big basket that she now shoved into my hands. “He told me what you’ve got in mind. You’ll be able to use what I’ve brought, and you’ll use me, too, or I’ll know the reason why!”

Oh, I
liked
her! “Samut’s a lucky man to know you, Kawit,” I said. “I hope he realizes that.”

“Who cares?” she grumbled, but I saw her blush.

With an extra pair of hands, our preparations went much faster. Samut was free to go back to his home and rest so that he’d be completely alert for what awaited him. We were ready to set out well before sunset. Kawit led us from our cave on the hike into the valley of the dead. Our goal lay halfway up the side of one of the cliffs. It wasn’t a formidable march—even little Nava was able to cover the distance easily while carrying a highly uncooperative Ta-Miu—though it was a struggle for Amenophis. He did his best to keep pace with the rest of us, but I could tell he was still weakened from his scorpion bite and forcing himself to go faster than was comfortable for him.

“Do you want to lean on my shoulders?” I asked.

He reacted as if I’d caught him committing a crime. “You have enough to do,” he said, sweat beading his brow with every painful step. “You’re carrying the bow and arrows
and
that heavy basket of firewood
and
a flask of oil; you aren’t going to carry me as well.”

“Stubborn,” I snapped.

“Look who’s talking,” he snapped back.

“Are you two married?” Kawit’s question slapped the two of us into embarrassed silence for the rest of the march.

Amenophis balked when he saw the place where Kawit brought us. “It’s a tomb!” he cried, looking deep into the shaft cut into the cliffside.

“It’s not a tomb yet,” I said. “Not until someone is laid to rest inside.”

“It’s true,” Kawit said. “And look, this one’s hardly begun. The stonecutters haven’t even started to carve out the chambers, only this entryway. It’s nowhere near to being finished, not like the one being prepared for Pharaoh, may he live forever.”

Amenophis looked pained. It must have been a chilling thought to realize he was standing in the valley where his own father would be buried. I didn’t blame him for not wanting to think about such things, even if Pharaoh Amenhotep would ascend to eternal life among the stars. His son would still miss him when he was gone.

We went into the new tomb and settled down to wait. Kawit shared bread and fruit with us while the sky darkened outside. We’d kindled a fire at the very back of the passageway and laid out the torches we’d want for the night’s work. We kept the blaze small so that its light could be mostly blocked. If the tomb robbers saw any sign to make them suspect our presence, it would be all over for us and, more importantly, for Samut’s son.

When we finished eating, we each took our places for what was to come. Nava scooped up Ta-Miu and popped her into the covered basket Kawit had brought. The woven reed lid muffled the regal cat’s yowls of indignation. Meanwhile, Kawit began painting my face.

“How do I look?” I asked when she was done. Earlier, with her help, I’d restyled my clothing, tying and tightening the fit of the fabric so that I looked as if I were wearing a sheath. Nava used the same paints that Samut had provided to turn the plain linen into an exotic display of stripes—red and blue and green—like nothing any ordinary girl would wear. My hair was adorned with the one piece of jewelry Kawit owned, a multicolored bead necklace. It wasn’t costly, but the beads were large, shiny, and would catch the light nicely. “Do you think I’ll be convincing?”

“Your face is all red,” Nava said. “And your eyes look much bigger, like an owl’s.”

“Hmph! An owl wouldn’t have such beautiful eyes, even ringed by all that red paint,” Kawit said. “Don’t insult my work. I learned from my father, and he was one of the best tomb painters ever. If there was any fairness in this world, I’d be able to do his job now that he’s gone.”

“You look … formidable,” Amenophis said, gazing at me. “Beautiful, yes, but—”

“Formidable is much more important than beautiful,” I cut in. “Especially tonight.”

We all took our places. Kawit filled a small clay pot with embers and a cloth sling with precious wood to keep them alive. Nava followed her out of the tomb, carrying four thick sticks with rags bound to their ends, and I followed Nava to have one last look at the board where we were about to play out a most perilous game.

“Remember, we’ll be keeping watch for them from up there,” Kawit said, pointing to the top of the cliff directly above the mouth of the tomb. “We’ll drop a handful of stones when we see them coming.”

Once Nava and Kawit were gone, Amenophis and I had nothing to do but wait and sometimes check on how well Ta-Miu had settled into her basket. We sat together with our backs against the passageway wall and spoke in whispers when we spoke at all. We were too tense to exchange more than a few words, mostly small, nervous questions: Was I comfortable, was his foot bothering him, was that the sound of rocks falling or just our imaginations? When we actually heard Kawit’s signal, the handful of pebbles she dropped to alert us to Samut’s approach, it sounded as loud as if a monumental temple pillar had toppled to the ground.

“It’s time,” I said, groping for his hand and squeezing it. “Wish me luck. Better yet, beg Ma’at to forgive me.”

“Why do you need her forgiveness?”

“Because what I’m about to do is either a lie or blasphemy or both.”

“You don’t believe that and neither should the goddess. We’re fooling evil men to save the life of a child. If Ma’at can’t see the good behind that deceit, how wise can she be? Good luck, Nefertiti.” He planted a clumsy kiss on my cheek and then made a disgusted sound when he tasted the paint on my face. I smothered a laugh, but it broke the tension. I stood up, slung Thutmose’s quiver over my shoulder, grabbed the bow with one hand, swept Ta-Miu out of her basket with the other, and waited just within the entrance of the tomb.

I saw three shapes coming across the valley floor from the direction of the workmen’s temporary houses. They moved quickly, the one in the lead lighting the way with a small torch. I strained my ears to catch any trace of their conversation, but they maintained silence until they began the climb up the rocky path to where I waited.

Abruptly the torch stopped moving. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing, Samut?” a cold voice growled. “Get going.”

“Not until you let me see my son.”

“We’ll let you see him in
pieces
if you keep acting like a donkey.”

“For all I know, he’s already dead!” Samut cried bitterly. He was playing out the strategy we’d practiced. What courage it took for him to say those words! “If you want me to take you one step closer to Lord Iritsen’s tomb, you’d better give me proof that I’m risking my soul for a good reason.”

The cold voice chuckled. “Fine, why not?” I heard a shrill whistle from below, followed by the sound of a child’s frightened scream. I paid sharp attention to the direction of that cry. The third tomb robber must have been trailing his comrades with the boy in tow, and he now lurked close enough to overhear whatever passed between them and Samut. “Good enough?” the cold voice asked. “Or do you want to see if we can make him cry
louder?”

“No, no more, please. That was all I wanted. Tell me—I’m just asking; I don’t want to make trouble—tell me, when will I
see
him?”

“When
we
decide.” The cold voice fell like a mallet.

“Hey!” The familiar nasal voice of Kawit’s brother. “What are you talking about? Weren’t we going to give him back his kid as soon as he got us into the tomb?”

“Now you’re on
his
side?” There was an unspoken threat in those words.

“No, but … come on, it’s
Samut
. We used to be friends.”

I could hear the scornful snort clearly on the night air. “You’re an idiot. That’s why no one asked you when we made our plans. It’s been decided: He’ll take us into the tomb, and then he’ll wait until we’ve got what we came for, and
then
we’ll let him have the brat back. Or do you want him taking the boy and running back to the village to sound the alarm? Do
you
want to die for this?”

Samut spoke up. “Please, there’s no need to argue. All that matters is my son’s return. Look there, up the slope. That’s the tomb entrance. I came out here earlier today to break the seals so you can get in faster. We’ll go on now.”

We’ll go on now
. I cast a glance behind me to where Amenophis knelt beside our small fire. I hugged Ta-Miu to my chest and whispered, “Promise you won’t leap out of my arms, my sweet one, and tomorrow morning I’ll give you the biggest fish you ever saw.” I inhaled slowly through my nostrils, offered a prayer to Isis in my heart, and sprang out of the tomb with a shout loud and wild enough to echo through the whole valley of the dead.

I felt a surge of heat at my back and knew that Amenophis had poured oil onto the fire. A cry from the slope below told me that the tomb robbers had seen the flare as well. Ta-Miu struggled in my grasp, but I held on to her firmly as I strode forward and struck a pose I’d seen many times in statues of great Sekhmet, showing the lion-headed goddess going forth to destroy the enemies of the Black Land.

“Oh, gods, what’s that?” Kawit’s brother’s twangy voice was shrill with panic. He froze where he stood.

“I—I don’t know.” The one who’d spoken so callously to Samut was suddenly a fearful child again, shaking in his bed in the dark. I glared downhill, and he began to back away. “It looks—it looks like—”

I let Thutmose’s bow drop to the ground and used both hands to lift Ta-Miu to the star-filled sky. The little cat yowled and hissed furiously. I heard some scrabbling from the clifftop and knew that Nava and Kawit had dumped the pot of embers onto the fuel they carried up there. With fire behind me, fire above, and a enraged cat in my hands, claws slashing the air, I let the full impact of my silent presence strike home.

“It’s a demon, that’s what it is!” Kawit’s brother yelled.

“No, no, look! See what she has in her hands? A sacred cat!” The other would-be thief fell to his knees.

“I warned you!” Samut exclaimed, filling his own voice with a convincing note of pathetic terror. “I told you that we’d all suffer for your blasphemy! Didn’t I carve the story of Lord Iritsen’s life on the walls of that tomb? Didn’t my own hands chisel out the curses that would fall on the heads of any who dared to disturb the rest of Bast’s most beloved servant?”

On cue, I took another step forward and clasped Ta-Miu to my chest. From below, we must have looked like a sacred image of the goddess and her sacred creature. There wasn’t enough light for the villains to notice how frantically the cat was squirming, and I held back the urge to yelp with pain when her claws dug into my skin through my garment. I lacked a cat’s head to make the impression complete, but the red paint covering my face must have turned it into a bloody mask.