Sphinx's Queen (20 page)

Without warning, Thutmose dropped to his knees and prostrated himself at Pharaoh Amenhotep’s feet, then raised his head and said, “I love you because you are my father. I respect and obey you because you are my king. But I worship you because you are the god-on-earth, as great as Amun himself! To doubt the power and wisdom of the gods is blasphemy. My lord—and you, holy priests of Hathor—in your wisdom, what name will you give to the crime of plotting to make a living god look like a fool before all his people?”

The priests’ response rang through the chamber at once—“Blasphemy! Blasphemy! Blasphemy!”—and every one of them was glaring at me with loathing and malice. They hadn’t even waited to draw a breath before attacking me or to spare an instant’s thought considering whether Thutmose’s words held truth or air. To question the gods was to question the men who made their living from the gods, like dogs under a rich man’s table. Amenophis’s objections were drowned out by their shouts. Nava yowled in panic. Aunt Tiye burst into tears, wailing that it would kill her poor brother when he heard what his daughter had become.

Only Pharaoh remained calm. With Ta-Miu still in his hands, he restored order with a low but audible command. “My son, I confess that your words have left me on a tangled path in a strange land. I find it hard to believe such things about this girl”—he nodded in my direction, then sighed—“but I also find it hard to doubt your word. You are my son and the heir to my throne. You were raised to honor Ma’at’s sacred balance from the start.”

“So was I,” I said softly. Pharaoh’s sorrowful face turned toward me. “So was I, my lord,” I said more firmly. “Great one, my father is one of your most trusted servants. My first mother died while attending your Great Royal Wife. My family is loyal to you—so loyal that if I am found guilty of the schemes Prince Thutmose describes, they would be the first to call for my death. My lord, you are the god-on-earth. Let me put my fate in the hands of your sister goddess, Ma’at, whose Feather of Truth stands in the balance against every human heart!”

“How do you propose to do that, Nefertiti?” Pharaoh asked.

“By returning to Thebes and from there to the great sacred place, Karnak. I will stand before the goddess herself—”

“In the Palace of Ma’at,” Pharaoh finished my thought for me. He was smiling again, though it was a melancholy smile. “Yes, of course, I should have thought of that myself. An oath of truth in the presence of Ma’at, in the heart of her house—so be it.” He raised his voice and proclaimed, “We leave tomorrow! Make everything ready for our departure. Find worthy lodgings for my son Prince Amenophis, for the lady Nefertiti, and for …” He cocked his head at Nava, who had stopped crying but who still hung on to me like a baby monkey to its mother. “Well, Nefertiti, if this little one is your slave, I must say you are the most tolerant mistress in all my kingdom.”

“Nava is no longer a slave,” I said. It felt good to reveal a happy truth. “I gave her freedom before I left Thebes. She is …” I paused. What was Nava to me? No longer a slave but not a servant, either. We were too close for that to be the right name for her. A friend? Yes, but more than that. “She has become my sister.”

I thought I would die then and there, squeezed to death by all the hugs, deafened by the cries of joy, and robbed of breath by all the kisses from the Habiru child in my arms.

As Pharaoh had commanded, we left Dendera for Thebes the next day. The festival of Hathor still filled the streets, but Pharaoh and Aunt Tiye had finished their service to the goddess, so there was nothing to prevent them from departing. The priests all hastened to assure their most generous patrons that Hathor was completely satisfied with the rich thanksgiving offering now carefully stored in the treasure rooms of her sanctuary. They came down to the dock to attend the departure of the royal ship, all the while throwing flowers, waving palm fronds, and chanting, “Hathor smiles! Hathor smiles!”

I stood between Nava and Amenophis, watching the ship’s crew set the sail, feeling the resistance as the captain turned the vessel’s prow upstream, against the current of the sacred river. The gorgeously painted sail caught a helpful breeze and bellied out strongly. The god Hapy, who ruled the river, was strong, but his power was tempered by the authority of Shu, who commanded the favorable winds. With his help, we would reach Thebes soon.

Once again I found myself a passenger aboard a royal ship. As I rested my eyes on the dark blue waters, I thought back to how Aunt Tiye had taken me on board her own splendid vessel from my home in Akhmin to a new life as the betrothed of Prince Thutmose. How my little sister, Bit-Bit, had envied me! I was going out into the wide world to a future as a princess, married to the young man who was certain to become the next pharaoh. And when that happened, I would be his queen! I would live out my days having every wish fulfilled, with only the most gorgeous clothes, the finest jewels, the most luxurious surroundings. Poets would praise me and artists would make my face eternal!

I had to laugh. What childish dreams those were. Bit-Bit had no idea of the reality that had been awaiting me. If Isis were merciful, the day might come when I’d see my dear little sister again and be able to tell her about everything that had happened to me since we parted. Would she envy me then?

I glanced away from the sacred river and met Amenophis’s eyes. He was gazing at me with the strangest smile on his homely face. “Why are you staring at me like that?” I asked. “Is there a smudge on my cheek? I don’t see how that’s possible: I had the most wonderful bath last night. I’ve been scrubbed and oiled and scented and had my hair washed and plaited and decked out with these”—I flicked the gold charm weighing down one of the countless tiny braids framing my face—“until our escape and adventures seem like nothing more than bad dreams.”

“Was it a bad dream when you said you loved me?” he murmured.

I moved closer to him and gave him a kiss. It was the best answer.

Well, maybe not for everyone.

“Amenophis, get
away
from that girl!” Aunt Tiye swept down on us like a hawk on a baby hare. Her dainty hand clamped onto his bony wrist and she yanked us apart. She glared at me as if wishing her eyes could riddle me with flaming arrows.

“Good morning, Aunt Tiye,” I said sweetly. I knew exactly how to pitch my voice in order to annoy her most. I had a death sentence hanging over my head, a future that might be written in blood or dust, and a cunning, ruthless prince for an enemy, but I couldn’t let fear devour me. If I could steal a bit of laughter by teasing my manipulative aunt, I’d scoop it up with both hands.

“Don’t you play the tame, dutiful little lady with
me
, you sly thing. Oh, how I curse the day I asked Ay to let me bring you to Thebes! You were nothing but an ungrateful, wayward, obstinate block of stone from the first, and now you’ve made things as bad as they could possibly be for everyone, including yourself. A
normal
girl would have bowed her head and let her life be guided by people old enough to know the best and wisest course to take. But not you! You’re like a she-goat that kicks over the milk bowl just for spite. It wasn’t enough that you spurned the
crown
prince”—she glowered at Amenophis when she said that—“but you plotted against him with his own brother!”

“Aunt Tiye, none of that is true,” I said, trying to be heard without shouting above her. There had been too much of that in Hathor’s house. “Those wild schemes Thutmose described are inside his own mind.”

“That’s just what you
would
say.” Aunt Tiye looked ready to spit at me. “Anything to tear him down. Well, it won’t work! When you stand in the Palace of Ma’at at Karnak and take the oath of truth, you won’t be able to cover your deceptions with clever words. The goddess will look into your heart and give us all an unquestionable sign that everything you’ve said against my Thutmose is a lie!”

“Or not,” Amenophis said under his breath.

His mother heard and shot him a look like a spear point. “There is only one reason that I haven’t ordered you to be punished for all you’ve done to betray your own brother: I pity you. Yes, I pity you with all my heart. What chance did someone like
you
ever have to resist this girl’s charms? She could ask you to fetch her a bull hippo’s tusk from a living beast and you’d kiss her hands and rush off to meet your death singing! With or without magic, she’s turned your head. I only hope that when she’s gone, you’ll be yourself again.”

“I don’t think you understand the way things are between Nefertiti and me, Mother,” Amenophis said, his voice level. “Without her, there
is
no me. We speak with two mouths but only one voice. We look at one another with eyes that don’t see beauty or ugliness, only love. She is my heart, and the wings that will lift me to the stars when I go to meet Osiris. Nothing can part us.” He shook off his mother’s grip and held me in his arms.

Aunt Tiye had little use for any act of defiance, even one as gentle and loving as this. She shoved her way between us and elbowed me away. Turning her back to me, she focused all her anger on her younger son. “If you knew how stupid you sound, you wouldn’t clutter my ears with such babble. Or maybe you would. You were never very bright. A piece of cheese could outwit you. That’s why you have a mother to look out for your best interests and to keep you from making a complete idiot of yourself. Since you haven’t got the good sense that the gods gave to geese, I’ll save you from your own folly. You are forbidden to see or speak to this girl again, from this moment until she has offered her heart to Ma’at!”

“No, Mother,” Amenophis said. His long jawline was tight, and there was a smoldering threat in his eyes. “You haven’t got the power to give me such orders anymore. I won’t leave Nefertiti.”

“Not even if your father commands it?”

“He never gave any such command. It’s yours!”

“It
will
be his.” Aunt Tiye looked smug. “I can promise you that. Your father knows and respects my good judgment. You little whelps aren’t the first two to be—what was that
clever
way you put it?—‘two mouths but only one voice’?”

“There
is
no voice that can keep me from her.”

“Will you defy Pharaoh himself?”

“For her, yes.”

“Very well.” Aunt Tiye shrugged in such an exaggerated way that it was obvious she didn’t mean surrender. “It’s not my job to enforce the will of Pharaoh. That task will fall to other women and men, guards and servants and slaves. They will bear the responsibility for removing you from
her
influence. Of course, you can always confront them, tell them that you are a prince!
You
don’t have to listen to the words of underlings.
You
will walk right past them to be with her. They won’t be able to stop you. They wouldn’t dare.” She smirked.

“And so they will be punished for failing to fulfill their job, and since that job is to enforce a direct order from Pharaoh himself, the punishment will be accordingly severe.” Aunt Tiye showed us her teeth. “But I wouldn’t worry about it too much, if I were you. They’re only little people. Why should you care what becomes of them, as long as you get your own way?”

Amenophis and I looked at one another. There was no need to speak; we knew she’d played a winning game against us.

“Ma’at will triumph,” he said to me. “And on that day, I will be with you again.”

I nodded, then kissed him. I didn’t let him go for a long, long time.

9
V
ISITS AND
S
ECRETS