Sphinx's Queen (37 page)

“We can’t all fit in the chariot, so take Henenu and we will come along on foot.”

He helped the dwarf scribe mount, fumbled with the reins, and let the horses run. Mahala, Nava, and I watched his hectic, ungoverned departure. I looked at the Habiru sisters. “Do you think we’ll reach the palace before he does?”

“Do you think we’ll ever see Henenu again?” Nava asked plaintively.

Mahala and I both assured her that Henenu was not going to be carried halfway back to Memphis by his hapless driver. Then I asked the sisters, “How long have you been here in Thebes, and why didn’t you come to me in the palace?”

Nava didn’t know, but Mahala said, “We came as far as the gates, but when the guards heard who we were, they told us that there had been reports of a great sickness in Memphis—perhaps even plague—and no one who’d been there could enter. It wasn’t until later that I realized they hadn’t bothered to ask us if we’d come from Memphis; they just
knew
. Henenu grew angry and asserted his rank as a respected scribe. He demanded to speak with a higher authority. It didn’t do any good. We were brought to the house where you found us and were warned to stay away from the palace unless we wanted to see the inside of a prison cell. We had to give in.”

“I’m surprised Henenu never tried to send word about your situation.”

“He did! He wrote at least three messages each day and found reliable men to carry them to the palace. The local children used to fight each other for the job of getting him fresh papyrus for all of those letters. I know that at least some of them were meant for you. Didn’t you receive them?”

I hadn’t, and I knew whose hand had barred Henenu’s messages from reaching me. It was the same hand that had pushed my friends away from the palace gates with false reports of sickness in Memphis. It was the same hand that, until today, had kept me unaware that they were in the city, that had stood like a wall between me and Sitamun, that had curved itself around Amenophis to draw him far from me. It was probably the same hand that had crushed all letters between me and my family in Akhmin. Now, suddenly, those unyielding fingers had loosened their grip, letting my life come trickling back to me like a flow of golden sand.

I remembered the first lines of Sitamun’s message:
Your words on my brother’s behalf have reached Father’s heart. Mother is satisfied
.

She didn’t need to specify the source of Aunt Tiye’s contentment. It could only be the fulfillment of her dearest desire—to see Thutmose named crown prince once more.

It was early afternoon by the time we reached the palace. The first thing I did was bring Nava and Mahala to Thutmose’s rooms. Poor Nava! She found it impossible to accept that the “bad prince” of her nightmares had changed. She refused to cross his threshold.

“There are all sorts of healings, dear one,” her sister said, soothing the child’s fear. “How can you believe that the One has power to mend the body but not the spirit?”

“You never met Prince Thutmose,” Nava replied stubbornly, but she consented to enter his apartments if her sister and I promised to hold her hands the whole time.

It was a promise we didn’t need to keep for long. The first thing we all saw when Uni led us into Thutmose’s presence was Amenophis, sitting on the floor beside his brother’s bed and making Ta-Miu dance for a bunch of feathers on a string. Nava’s greeting struck him like a war-club blow. The cat rose straight up in the air, hissing, and shot out into the garden. Thutmose laughed so hard he complained he’d split open the bandages on his scraped leg.

“It’s not right for the crown prince of the Two Lands to tell lies,” I said primly, which made him laugh even more.

With Nava and Mahala in my household, my daily visits to cheer Thutmose’s convalescence became miniature parties. With Sitamun’s help, the Habiru sisters were provided with the musical instruments they played so well, and I could play the sistrum while I danced to their lively tunes. Ta-Miu often tried to be a part of our performance, and once she succeeded in catching my feet so that I hit the floor on my backside.

“Why couldn’t you do that during the race, you treacherous cat?” Thutmose joked. “You must suffer for your disloyalty! I condemn you to eat a plateful of fish and a cup of fresh milk at once!”

“You spoil her,” Amenophis said. “She’s getting as fat as a castor bean.”

“If you think
I’m
to blame for how fat she’s getting, we need to have a talk, brother,” Thutmose replied. He turned his face to Nava and said, “How would you like a kitten, little bird?” Her dance of joy was so boisterous that Uni came in to see if anything was wrong.

Nava was still bouncing madly as we returned to my apartments for the evening. All she could talk about was her kitten, what to name it, when she might have it. “The kittens aren’t even born yet, sweet one,” I told her. “Worry about tomorrow when the sun rises.”

I should have slept peacefully that night. My heart was filled with contentment; my life floated on calm waters. No doubt Aunt Tiye still resented me for not having been the docile little rag doll she thought she’d taken from Akhmin, but at least we were no longer at war. I was just as happy to have her ignore my existence as I would be to hear her offer a thousand words of thanks or apology. All that remained to make my joy complete was to be recognized as Amenophis’s bride. The royal brothers assured me that this would happen very soon, but I didn’t believe them. They were having too much fun conspiring over ways to outmaneuver their mother if she objected. Once their plot succeeded, the game would be over.

Was I being too greedy, wanting to have all of my wishes fulfilled? Was that what was disturbing my dreams? They were crowded with half-formed sounds and images, winding paths that turned into bottomless pits at my feet, skies that swirled with plumes of smoke that were either murky green or dull crimson, sinister whispers from unseen creatures in the branches of dead trees with twigs as white as bone. To escape those visions, I would have welcomed the return of the lions that had been my childhood nightmares, but I was held fast in their awful grip until dawn.

How happy I was to see the Aten’s bright disk bring the day’s first light! It had never looked so beautiful. I raised my arms and called out a prayer of praise.

That morning, as Mahala, Nava, and I approached Thutmose’s apartments, I became aware of a faint tension in the air. Without knowing why, I doubled my pace until I was almost flying through the palace halls. My friends were carrying their instruments and couldn’t hope to keep up with me, and so I was the first to reach the prince’s door. It stood wide open, and the sounds coming from inside were not good to hear: shouting, wailing, the desperate sound of many people running as if from some disaster, scuffling, and uncounted voices calling on the gods for mercy.

I crossed the threshold into chaos, dodging the slaves and servants who seemed to be coming from every direction at once. I soon saw that this wasn’t true, and my heart fell as I realized that the source of all that tumult and confusion was the doorway to Thutmose’s bedchamber.

“Lady Nefertiti, what are you doing here?” A very disheveled Uni staggered toward me and blocked my way. “You mustn’t stay.”

“Think about your words,” I told him as calmly as I could.

“Oh! Pardon, pardon me, I should not have said—” He gulped for air. “I meant that you will not
want
to stay here this morning. My lord Prince Thutmose can see no one. Last evening he complained of a dizzy feeling, and he spoke harshly to the servant in charge of changing the bandages on his leg. He hasn’t acted like that for—for—well, since your visits began. Toward dawn, we heard a crash from his bedchamber and found that he’d tried to get up and walk.”

“His ankle hasn’t mended enough for that,” I said. “He knows it. Why did he try such a foolish thing?”

“He—he—I think he did not know anything when he made the attempt.”

“Sleepwalking?”

Uni shook his head. “When we came to pick him up off the floor and settle him on his bed again, his skin felt like fire. His eyes were open, but he didn’t recognize any of us, his loyal servants, and he was babbling. I fetched Pharaoh’s own physician at once. He is with the prince now.” He glanced at the commotion still boiling out of the bedchamber door and sighed. “My lady, there is nothing anyone else can do.”

“I don’t know if I can do anything more than the doctor,” I said. “But I
will
see my friend.”

No one stopped me from entering Thutmose’s bedchamber. The room was brightly lit by the daylight streaming down from the high, narrow windows as well as from a grove of lamp stands, all ablaze. A brazier smoldered in one corner, perfuming the air with sweet incense. Slaves carrying water vessels, bowls, and clean linen strips came and went, their eyes wide with apprehension.

I saw a tall, dignified man standing at the head of Thutmose’s bed and guessed this must be the doctor. I was glad to see he was not old Master Ptah-Hotep. Bitterly I recalled that other physician. On Thutmose’s orders, he’d tricked me into swallowing a potion that had made it impossible for me to speak in my own defense when I was tried for Ta-Miu’s “death.” I had forgiven Thutmose for the past, but I dearly hoped that old man was no longer practicing the art of healing. A doctor who could be corrupted was no doctor at all.

The physician’s keen eyes flashed when he caught sight of me. “You are Lady Nefertiti?” he asked crisply. I nodded. “We have never met, but I have heard you are a very beautiful girl. I see that the gossips are right, for once. Come here. He’s been asking to see you.”

“Is he—is he better?” I asked.

“Stop wasting the doctor’s time with silly questions, Nefertiti. I can speak for myself.” Thutmose waved at me from his bed and propped himself up on his elbows.

Oh, how happy I was to see that provoking grin of his! His face lacked healthy color and his cheeks were a bit sunken, but otherwise he looked like himself. I came close but remained standing at his bedside instead of taking a seat on the edge the way I often did during my morning visits. His hand shot out, closed on my wrist, and pulled me down to my usual place.

“You can stop acting as if I’m made of flower petals,” he said. “I had a bad night, that’s all. It was caused by a sudden fever, but the doctor had my attendants wash me with cool water and crushed herbs and now the fever’s gone.”

“
Almost
gone, my prince,” the physician corrected him. “It burns low, like an ember. I will deal with it so that it is completely quenched.”

“While you’re at it, do you have any remedies for pain? The place where I cut my leg is hurting more than usual.”

“I am told you fell on it last night. You are lucky you did not do additional damage to your broken bones. Does your ankle hurt as well?” He looked pleased when Thutmose shook his head. “Good. That means the broken bones will soon be whole. As for the pain, I will make you a compound of willow bark for that and poppy juice later, if something stronger is needed.”

“You should talk to Nefertiti. She’s got experience prescribing poppy juice.” Thutmose’s smirk became a long, loud yawn. He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Nefertiti. I’m worn out from last night’s fever-dance. I wanted to see you this morning, but I think I’m too tired to appreciate your songs and stories. Come back tomorrow?”

“I will,” I said, leaning over to kiss his brow as I rose to go. “I promise.”

I found Nava and Mahala waiting for me just inside the door to the prince’s apartments. I explained to them what had happened and they made sympathetic noises.

“The doctor said his ankle will soon be healed,” I told them, wanting to keep our minds on good things.

As we walked down the hall, Uni came hastening after us, carrying a basket. It was meowing loudly and irritably, in a familiar voice.

“Ta-Miu!” Nava cried, beaming.

The Master of the Prince’s Household bowed to me, holding out the basket like an offering. “Lady Nefertiti, Prince Thutmose requests you look after his cat until he has made a full recovery. He asks you to recall that she has a history of getting underfoot. He is afraid that with so much fuss going on, she might be injured if someone stumbles over her, and given her condition …” He shrugged.

I took the basket from his hands. “Tell the prince that I will be honored to take special care of Ta-Miu but that I hope it won’t be for long. We all look forward to his swift recovery.”

Nava was overjoyed to take over the responsibility of minding Ta-Miu. That evening, after feeding the cat a mound of shredded duck and half of her own dinner, she ran through my rooms trailing a string behind her for our furry guest to chase. They made so much noise that Mahala finally put a stop to it.

“The cat should rest, and it’s time you were asleep,” she said. “You can play with Ta-Miu tomorrow.”

Later, I was awakened by a great commotion coming from beyond my bedchamber doorway.
Is it morning already?
I thought drowsily as I sat up, wiping sleep from my eyes, but the room was still dark.
That child! Couldn’t she wait for dawn before playing with Ta-Miu?
I swung my feet out of bed and felt my way carefully toward the noise.

It wasn’t coming from the outer room, so I stumbled into my courtyard. That was where I found Teti, Mahala, and Nava huddling together, their eyes fixed on the portal that connected my rooms to the rest of the women’s quarters. The disturbance came from there, an unearthly wailing heard over the sound of pounding feet, screams, and children yowling.

“What is it? Oh, what’s happening, mistress?” Teti cried, clutching my arm.

Before I could answer, someone came lurching through the entryway, into my small garden. With streaming eyes, Amenophis stood shaking like a willow leaf for a heartbeat before the dreadful words rasped from his mouth:

“My brother is gone.”

16
T
HE
B
OOK OF THE
D
EAD