Magic of the Nile (45 page)

Nidiamhet’s response was a whine. “Sahure was supposed to be mine. Of all the eligible unmarried men at Court, he met my requirements in full. Between his accomplishments, my blood connections, and my magic, we could have risen to the highest levels in Egypt. I was so close to ensnaring him. It was ridiculously easy to exert a little influence here and a touch of magic there.” Nidiamhet laughed and the sound was chilling from one who’d pretended to be Sahure’s friend. A moment later, Tyema jumped as Nidiamhet evidently shoved a pile of tablets to the floor in anger. “But now, who is this—this
nobody
from Ibis Nome, to steal Sahure from me? To have his child?”

“I know the situation burns, is unfair, but perhaps you should set your aim higher.” Jadikiria’s voice was now honey sweet, wheedling. “Even if Sahure could be separated from the provincial priestess, he can only rise so far, being limited by his birth.
You
might be destined for higher things.”

She’s like a seller of poisoned perfume or unguents.
Tyema’s fear remained strong as she listened to the smooth Minoan trying to manipulate Nidiamhet, who was protesting Jadikiria’s last suggestion. “What do you mean? The crown prince is barely into manhood, much too young for me.”

“But Pharaoh himself is not too old for a young wife.” The Minoan’s answer was prompt.

Tyema wished she could see the other women’s faces as they conducted this treasonous discussion.

“Nat-re-Akhte is an untraditional pharaoh in that regard, he’ll take no other woman to wife but Ashayet. He won’t even take concubines.” Nidiamhet paused. Tyema heard her gasp. “Are you suggesting I use the curse Qemtusheb’s demons gave me to kill the queen?”

“I’m suggesting since you wield the sorcerer’s ring your mother took from the Usurper Lynefaraht’s jewel box when she was overthrown, use the power to fullest advantage. The Usurper rose to the throne by marrying an older Pharaoh, after which he conveniently died, leaving her as regent for their child. You might be able to use the magic in a similar fashion.” There was a meaningful pause. “If the queen was removed first.”

“I could be the regent after I bore Pharaoh a son and then killed him, maybe even marry Nat-re-Akhte’s older son eventually to cement my hold on the throne. Or kill him as well if he failed to succumb to my spells.” The enthusiasm in Nidiamhet’s voice showed how much she was enjoying this macabre picture of a possible future.

How can any sane woman think this plot has a chance of success?
Tyema wondered if Nidiamhet had always been unbalanced, seeking power, or had the Usurper’s ring affected her sense? Either way, she was doomed now, as soon as Pharaoh and Sobek knew she was the sorceress.

“Not so fast,” Jadikiria was issuing warnings. “Although you have the ring and are gifted with inherent powers, you’re self taught, with significant gaps in your knowledge, which leads to mistakes such as the one on the queen’s barge, or much more significantly, the failure to sacrifice Tyema’s
ka
. You were lucky the
utukkai
gave you a death spell in exchange for her and didn’t demand repayment and more from you when she somehow escaped.”

“The
utukkai
said she’d been promised to them as a child. They were pleased when I offered her. It’s not my fault she escaped.” Nidiamhet was back to whining.

“Foolish one, even approaching the
utukkai
of Qemtusheb without safeguards and proper rituals of appeasement can be fatal. You had almost no chance of actually winning Qemtusheb’s favor with the sacrifice of the priestess, and you expended a huge amount of energy needlessly when you summoned his lower level servants to strike the deal.” There was a pause as Jadikiria evidently took a few breaths to calm herself. “The ring is powerful, but no one talisman is enough to bring victory. The gods themselves fought when Nat-re-Akhte defeated the Usurper. But you can learn other powers, become a disciple of Qemtusheb directly, not have to work through his servants.”

Nidiamhet apparently felt a bit suspicious of Jadikiria, as her next question held a tinge of cynicism. “With your help?”
 

 
“Of course. I’m a loyal servant of Qemtusheb. My parents fled to the land of Minos when the Usurper fell. We’ve quite a colony of believers there nowadays. King Minos is tolerant as long as we take no steps against his throne or his gods. Qemtusheb has no appetite for Crete, he craves Egypt, which was so nearly his.”

“I might ally with Qemtusheb, but I wouldn’t hand my country over to the Hyksos,” Nidiamhet said, her tone lofty.
 

Yes, you would, stupid girl. You’d be nothing but their puppet.
Tyema was impatient for the women to conclude whatever else they wanted to discuss and leave, so she could make her escape. She craned her head to see if there might be another exit, just in case.

“Clearly the ring was meant to pass from Lynefaraht to you, as one queen to another.” Jadikiria was so fawning now Tyema became even more suspicious of the Minoan’s true motives. Did this group of Hyksos she represented really want to enact a convoluted plan in hopes of seating spoiled, arrogant Nidiamhet on the throne someday? Or were the enemy perhaps after the ring and the death spell?

“So what are my next steps?” It seemed Nidiamhet was capitulating.

“You’ll need an advanced tutor,” Jadikiria said. “To acquire such a level of skill is beyond what I can teach you.”

“Where am I to find such a person in Thebes? Pharaoh forbids the use of black magic on pain of death. Not that he’d ever suspect
me.
I’m a great favorite with the queen.”

The very woman you now want to kill and replace.
Tyema’s disgust roiled her gut.

“I told you, a small party of my people, including priests skilled in the use of devices like the ring, was traveling to Egypt in secret. This morning I’ve received word they’re camped in the Forbidden Valley, waiting to meet you.”

Tyema wondered where this valley might be.

Nidiamhet’s question gave her a partial answer. “Where the Usurper built her tomb?”

 
“She was also building a small temple to Qemtusheb there, which is where they wait to meet you.” Unsuspecting they were being overheard, Jadikiria enlightened both her pupil and Tyema. “We should go there today, in case the priestess regains her memory and accuses you. You need to be able to deal with her without wasting the death spell.”

“I can leave now,” Nidiamhet said. “Let me just secure the scroll we came for and we can take your donkey cart and be off.”

Panic struck Tyema as she realized the women were leaving the table and coming in her direction. Barefoot, she ran down the aisle, trapped between the shelves, seeking a hiding place, knowing she only had a moment before her enemies would come around the corner and discover her. Nidiamhet wouldn‘t hesitate to use Qemtusheb’s death spell if she had to. Tyema wasn’t any too sure her amulet was enough protection, and was afraid to rely on Sobek appearing in time to save her.

She reached the back wall of the library and spun, trapped. Frantically she tried sending a mental plea to Sobek but felt no sign he was listening. Closing her eyes in despair, she resolved to fight as hard as humanly possible, once the enemy discovered her.
At least Sahure is on his guard, at least he’ll warn Pharaoh.

A white glow penetrated her closed eyelids and Tyema cautiously reopened them. The Great One Mut stood in front of her, face to face, expansive white wings curving to embrace her. Thinking she was dreaming, Tyema opened her mouth to speak but Mut shook her head, finger to her lips.

“Close your eyes,” the goddess whispered.

Obediently, Tyema shut her eyes and the soft feathers closed around her like a blanket. Next moment there was a rush of air and she felt herself being lifted. Tyema knew wind gusted past, for she could feel the feathers fluttering against her bare skin, but how they left the library or where they were going she had no idea. It seemed but a moment before she felt hot sand under her feet and Mut unfolded her wings.

“You can look now. You’re quite safe.” The goddess sounded somewhat amused.

Tyema found herself standing in the middle of a road, out in the deserted countryside. “Where are we?”

“On the trail between Pharaoh’s private hunting grounds and Thebes. He and your man will be along soon.” Mut’s wings arched and she flung them wide open, obviously preparing to ascend.

Tyema reached out and touched her arm. “Thank you, Great One, for rescuing me today and for your gift of a feather the other day. I put it to good use as a weapon against one of the
utukkai
.”

“Then you did well with my present and I give you another.”

Tyema saw Mut was holding her hand out, a small, carved ivory feather on a golden chain resting in her soft palm. As she took the necklace, Tyema said, “I’m grateful but—”

“But why am I helping you?” Mut smiled and Tyema felt warm and comforted just gazing at the goddess’s beautiful face.

Nodding, she said, “Well, yes. I’m sworn to Sobek.”

“I heard your prayer the day you visited my temple. And I have a soft place in my heart for a young mother who’s been given a nearly impossible task by one of the old gods. You’ve done amazingly well, my dear, but what Sobek sent you to Thebes to do was beyond human scope. So I helped a little.” Mut glanced at the sky, where a flock of white vultures circled, calling to her in their hoarse voices. “And while this pharaoh doesn’t swear fealty to me or my husband Amun-Ra, his son will, if their bloodline retains the throne. It has been foretold, this family is the key to the rise of my husband’s power among gods. So I have an interest in Nat-re-Akhte’s health.”

“Oh.” Tyema was at a loss for words, dismayed by discussion of changes among the gods and unable to agree to any criticism of Sobek. She busied herself putting the new amulet around her neck.

Mut leaned closer and the delicious perfume of the Nile lotus wafted around Tyema. “But the main reason I involved myself is that the perfect little meditation grove your Sahure designed for me is my favorite place in all of the Black Lands. You may tell him I said so.” She laughed and the sound was like lilting music.

Tyema wished she could capture the beauty of Mut’s laughter in a song. “I would have gladly served you, my lady, if I weren’t already a priestess for another.”

Mut hugged her close. “I know, daughter, and I would have been the fortunate one.”

Tyema allowed herself to relax into the motherly embrace of the goddess for a moment, heartened, encouraged and consoled to the depths of her
ka
, all at once, in a way the touch of no other being—not even Sahure or Merys—had ever accomplished. It was as if an old wound had been healed and ceased to hurt, scars vanishing.

All too soon Mut kissed her on the forehead and stepped away, great wings flaring to catch the wind. As she rose into the sky, the goddess pointed to the west. “They come. You won’t have to wait in the sun more than a moment or two. And Tyema, although Ibis Nome is far removed from my domain, I
will
hear you, if ever you sing for me.”

Shielding her eyes with one hand, Tyema watched as the Great One continued her rapid ascent, vanishing into the sun, until only a flock of white vultures could be seen, winging their way to the Nile. With a sigh, Tyema turned to face the oncoming chariots.

In a great, choking cloud of dust, the drivers of the five speeding chariots reined their horses to a halt a few feet short of where Tyema stood. The next moment Sahure jumped from his vehicle, running to embrace her. “What in the seven hells are you doing out here? How did you get here? What’s happened?”

“Yes, Lady Tyema, I too will be most curious to hear your answers.” Pharaoh came striding through the settling dust, cobalt-and-gold flail in his hand, bodyguards at his heels.

Kissing Sahure quickly on the cheek, keeping her hold on his hand, Tyema turned to Nat-re-Akhte. Making a small head bob to show proper deference, she said, “The goddess Mut brought me to meet you on the road, Great One. She rescued me when I was trapped in the library.” She coughed as she inhaled some of the clogged air.

Pharaoh gave an order to the nearest soldier. “Bring water for the lady.” He gestured to Sahure. “Escort her to my chariot, where she may sit and tell us of the new developments.”

“You promised me you’d stay in your rooms,” Sahure said in a low, angry voice as he followed orders and conducted her to the large, gold-encrusted chariot in the center of the group.

“Just as well I didn’t, since I now know vital new information.” Tyema sank down on the end of Pharaoh’s chariot and gratefully accepted the water skin from a soldier.

Nat-re-Akhte ordered his guards to stand watch in a loose perimeter before he was ready to confer with Tyema. “Sahure has told me of your terrifying journey in the underworld, gave me the name of the traitor, whose life is now forfeit, let me assure you. As soon as I lay hands on her, Nidiamhet is a dead woman and her bones will be scattered in the desert.”

His cold anger was terrifying to behold, but Tyema was compelled to give him the new information she’d gleaned. “Matters grow even worse, sir. I overheard her plotting in the library earlier today with Jadikiria, her accomplice. There’s no delicate way to say this, so forgive me, Great One, but now they plan to kill your wife with the spell the
utukkai
gave Nidiamhet in exchange for sending me to them.”