Magic of the Nile (37 page)

Edekh hurried into the room, followed by the royal physician, who went immediately to the bedside, setting down his box of instruments and potions. He made a shooing gesture as he did a quick visual examination of Tyema’s limp form. “Give me space, if you please, my lord, ladies. Let me have a chance to assess my patient.”

Sahure carried his son to the outer room, Edekh at his side. Nidiamhet lingered in the bedroom, as did Renebti. Sahure heard them talking over each other as they sought to explain Tyema’s symptoms to the doctor.

“Edekh, will you do me a favor?” Sahure asked.

“As long as it isn’t anything to do with the screaming baby,” he answered, eyeing the red-faced, howling Seknehure with misgiving.

“Send a courier and a chariot to my family’s estate, tell my mother to dispatch our best wet nurse from the village immediately.” Sahure cast a glance at the bedroom. “I fear Tyema won’t be able to care for my son anytime soon. I can’t allow him to go hungry and sicken as well.”

Edekh bowed. “A wise precaution. I’ll see to it.” He spoke to the waiting scribe, who rushed off. Turning his back to the bedroom, Edekh said, “This is all unnervingly odd. Lady Tyema seemed fine this morning when I saw her.”

Sahure kissed his son’s forehead and patted his back. “I don’t like it either.”

Leaning closer, Edekh lowered his voice. “I understand Nidiamhet was bidding her guests farewell when the gaming party ended, as if nothing had happened. One of the more senior ladies of the court— General Kaminhotep’s wife, I believe—insisted upon saying farewell to Lady Tyema, knowing she’d been unwell, wishing to see how she was faring. When she saw your priestess in this state, she ensured Tyema was brought to the palace. It wasn’t Nidiamhet’s doing, although she came along and now takes credit.”

His thoughts racing, Sahure glanced at the bedroom. “What are you insinuating?”
 

“Nothing, merely reporting all the facts, in order for you to properly assess the situation.”

“Perhaps this fever is an effect of her immersion in the river yesterday,” Nidiamhet said, walking over to them, either not having heard or uncaring of what Edekh had said. She held her arms out. “I can hold the child.”

“My aunt didn’t want anyone touching Seknehure without her permission.” Renebti, who’d also left the bedroom, rushed to put herself between Sahure and the lady-in-waiting. “Other than his father, of course. Please, my lord, I’ll take him if need be.”

“Thank you.” Sahure had misgivings about the entire situation, without being able to identify the source of his unease. “It’s kind of you to offer, Nidiamhet, but the child knows his cousin and will be less upset in familiar arms.” He transferred Seknehure to Renebti, who hugged him close as she edged a few steps away.

Nidiamhet laid her hand on his arm. “Of course. I understand.” Waving a graceful hand at the bedroom, she said, “I’ll be glad to sit with Lady Tyema, make sure she’s well tended during the night, help in any way I can.”

“You might be sickening yourself, Lady Nidiamhet,” Edekh said before Sahure could say anything. “You were in the Nile yesterday too.”

Laughing she shook her head, slipping her arm around Sahure’s waist and leaning close. “No, I’m fine, I assure you. Lord Sahure rescued me with no thought for himself.”

His skin crawling at the casual way she was touching him in this inappropriate moment, Sahure kept his temper with an effort.
As if now Tyema has fallen ill, I’d be happy to move on to another woman.
Removing her arm from his waist, Sahure took Nidiamhet by the elbow and escorted her to the door. “I’m grateful to you for bringing Tyema safely back to the palace. We can’t ask more of you.”

She had sense enough not to argue with him. “You’ll keep me informed how she does?”

He nodded. Nidiamhet went on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Sahure, I know she means a great deal to you. May the gods bless her.” She slipped out the door before he could say anything else.

Rubbing his cheek as if to erase the unwanted kiss, he stalked to the bedroom, where the doctor was just completing his examination. “Well? What’s your diagnosis?”

The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fever of unknown origin.”

“Lacking any shred of medical training, I could have written that papyrus,” Sahure said, frustrated. “What can be done for her?”

Apparently used to dealing with irate family members, the doctor merely shrugged. “I’ve given her something to relieve the symptoms and left you a packet of herbs to mix into another dose in the middle of the night. Frankly, she’ll have to be watched closely. Prayers must be offered to the appropriate deities. Try to get her to drink water at any opportunity.”

Sahure gazed at the pale, unconscious figure of his beloved and searched his heart in vain for hope.

“Don’t hesitate to summon me if there’s any change,” the doctor said, packing up his scrolls and potions. “I’ll return in the morning to check on her.”

Carrying the baby on her hip, Renebti came to peer around Sahure as the doctor bowed and left. “What are we going to do, my lord?”

“Pharaoh and the queen have offered any assistance you desire,” Edekh said. “Her majesty regrets she can’t come in person, but Pharaoh has forbidden her to risk exposure to this virulent fever.”

Sahure sat on the edge of the bed, taking one of Tyema’s limp hands in his, alarmed at how hot her skin felt to his touch. Propping her up with one arm, he poured a mug of water from the pitcher and held it to her lips. Encouraged by the fact she drank a few sips even though her eyes didn’t open, he had a thought. “Can we have two of the palace maids assigned to help us care for her?” He smoothed her tousled hair away from her face.

“Of course. And the wet nurse will be brought to you the moment she arrives, even if it be in the middle of the night.” Edekh frowned. “I wish there was more to be done.”

“When I was sick with fever and spots last year, my mother put cooling rags on my forehead,” Renebti offered.
 

“We’ll try the suggestion. We’ll try any remedy, no matter how farfetched,” Sahure said, fists clenched. “When the maids get here, we can give her a refreshing bath.”

“I’ll send two of the most senior serving girls right away. Let me know if there’s anything else.” Edekh bowed and left them alone.

Renebti leaned close, her voice lowered. “I didn’t want to speak of this while anyone else was here, but there’s something seriously amiss, my lord.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Her amulet from the Great One Sobek, where is it?” Renebti’s eyes were wide and her voice shook ever so slightly. “Aunt Tyema never takes it off.”

Startled, chagrined he hadn’t noticed, Sahure took another look. “I’ll talk to Nidiamhet tomorrow, but perhaps the chain was broken somehow, or the amulet fell when they placed her in the litter. I’m sure the Great One will give her another.” Gazing at Renebti’s face, so youthful under the ruined makeup, he saw again how frightened she was. What she needed to hear right now was reassurance she’d done the right thing and encouragement that Tyema would recover. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for sending for me so promptly. I’m grateful.”

Renebti blushed, lowering her eyes for a moment, shifting Seknehure on her hip. “I knew my aunt would want you in charge of her care, and of your son. I couldn’t win an argument with Lady Nidiamhet, her being a grand court lady, couldn’t do more than delay her intentions at best, but I knew you’d agree with me.”

The odd choice of words caught his attention. “Argument?”

Hugging his son close, Tyema’s niece frowned. “She wanted to take the baby away, sir, to keep him safe, she said. I know Aunt Tyema would never agree, no matter how sick she was. You’re an entirely different matter, being his father.”

What in the name of Set’s teeth would make Nidiamhet believe my son should be removed from his closest female relative other than his own mother, and given into her care? She has no experience with babies and no right to take custody of my son.
Disturbed, he was glad he’d followed his instincts to keep the woman from participating further in nursing Tyema. Nidiamhet undoubtedly meant well, with a healthy portion of wanting to make herself appear helpful and gracious in his eyes, but he’d no time for games.

*****

Why am I lying on cold rock?
Tyema rolled over, arms and legs numb, as if she hadn’t moved in quite awhile. She opened her eyes and immediately blinked them shut again against the odd, brassy yellow glare all around her. She heard the quiet hiss and sizzle of fire. Gathering her determination, she sat up and opened her eyes again. She was sitting on a cold stone ledge, surrounded by an odd cage made from ropes of fire burning without consuming itself. The lattices were too narrow for her to safely climb through, but she could see a vast cavern stretching into the distance.

Where did Nidiamhet send me and what’s going to happen to me next?
Instinctively she reached for the comfort of her amulet, before remembering how the sorceress had pulled it from her neck. Tyema sent a prayer to Sobek, in the slim hope he might hear her, but there was no sign the Great One was listening. Massaging her stiff calf muscles for a moment first, she rose, examining her surroundings. The ledge beneath her bare feet was flat, not even a pebble she might use as a weapon. The fire cage was about eight feet in diameter and reached above her head, coming to a point. Tyema saw no door, no gap where she might squeeze through.

“How long was I unconscious?” she said, wanting to hear her own voice. There was an unpleasant echo, bouncing from the rocky walls of the cavern. Tyema bit her lip, deciding against further speech. Checking her arms and legs, she saw the names Nidiamhet had somehow branded her with no longer disfigured her skin. She was wearing the sleeveless white linen dress she’d had on at the luncheon, although missing the shawl and the embroidered overskirt.

No amulet, no way to call upon Sobek.
Refusing to surrender to despair, Tyema searched the cell more closely in the light of the fire, but there was nothing on the ledge. Rubbing her arms, she realized she wasn’t hungry or thirsty—her body made no demands of her at all.
So am I even here in body? Or is this my eternal ka imprisoned in this place?
Fear swept through her, causing her to tremble and grow dizzy.
 

Thoughts of Seknehure growing up without her poured through her mind, bringing anger and defiance in their wake.
No.
Defiantly she straightened her spine. “I won’t be afraid. No matter what happens here, I refuse to make it easy for whoever comes to kill me. My fear is their weapon. I’ll find a way to get back to my child. And Sahure.”
I still have my songs and they have power, even if Sobek isn’t listening. Maybe someone else is. Might there be a guardian of the innocent here I could appeal to?
She sang, one of the oldest songs she knew, a hymn to Mother Nile herself, praising the power of the floods. The tune gave her strength and hope, vibrating in her bones, echoing off the eerie walls around her as if she was but one member of a sacred choir. When she opened her eyes as the song came to an end, she thought the fires making up the cage might be flickering somewhat. Searching her repertoire for another hymn of equal antiquity and power, she stuck her hand in her pocket, only to feel her fingers brushing something.

Amazed, she brought out the white feather from Mut’s chapel. The vane gleamed with a pure white glow. Tyema contemplated the gift.
Might this carry some magic I can use?
I know I left this in my keepsakes box at the palace before going to that cursed woman’s home, so how it got in my pocket—
She ran her finger over the quill, astounded at the sharpness of the point, which she hadn’t noticed before.
A weapon, then.
Feeling a bit encouraged, she slid the lovely soft feather through her fingers before hiding it in her pocket.
For all I know I’m being watched. No need to reveal my slight advantage.

Settling on a new song, equally old and powerful as her first selection, Tyema launched into a full voiced rendition. This time she kept her eyes open as she sang the praises of the oldest gods, Sobek among them, who had created the world in the before-times. The flame bars of her prison flickered and dimmed each time she named another of the most primeval deities. Stepping closer to the odd enclosure, she directed her song to one area of the latticework and was gratified to see the colors growing dark, as if the fire was being smothered by her voice.

I might be able to crawl out, if I can make even a small hole.
She refused to consider what might happen after escaping from the cage. Time enough for those worries later. Midway through the third song, Tyema saw the section of the cage she was concentrating on go dark, the flames winking out. They sputtered for a moment and then black ashes rained down on the ledge. Still singing, if a bit distractedly, Tyema got on her knees and crawled through the hole. Safely on the other side, she stopped the song in mid-note. Walking away from her prison, she craned her neck to examine the possibilities in all directions. The ledge was one in a long series, she discovered, so close together she could easily hop from one to the next.

But do I want to travel in that direction?
Although no flaming cages sat on any of the ledges as far as she could see, the feeling of being in a prison remained. Tyema leaned over to see what lay below the ledge. Full of shadows, the cavern was dimly lit by a glow emanating from pale veins in some of the rocks, which was enough for her to realize the drop to the cavern floor wasn’t far. Huge stalagmites and stalactites made an obstacle course in all directions, although Tyema couldn’t identify any obvious destination. There was a glow in the distance to the west so she decided to go there, for lack of anything better to try.
Maybe it’s daylight and I can escape this place.