Reflections in the Nile (11 page)

At the far end stood Thutmosis III, Horus-in-the-Nest, Rising Ra, Child of the Dawn, impatience inscribed on his florid face and affirmed in the tap of his golden sandals on the polished stone floor. Faintly the sounds of flowing water and other conversations drifted in from the rooms surrounding the chamber.

He scowled.

The palace and audience chamber were not separated, as in a civilized land. No, his darling viper aunt-mother had seen to it that even the smallest courtesies were denied him. Here he was, in the mud and marsh of Goshen, forced to oversee disputes among commoners and foreigners. His blood surged at the gall of his aunt-mother, Pharaoh Hatshepsut. Gritting his teeth, he sat down on the stool—
stool,
not chair—and motioned to the chamberlain.

As Thut's titles were intoned, the painted doors opened and a band of Apiru entered, a motley selection from among the many enslaved races that kept Egypt building and beautiful. He knew from their distinctive one-shouldered garments that this particular party was composed of Israelites. Thut glanced to the wall where his “appointed” counselors and seers stood at the ready.

He turned back to observe the petitioners. There were about ten. They always traveled in packs, like scavengers, he thought. The man at the front of the group was tall, head and shoulders above most men in Egypt, bespeaking a diet rich in meat: not the usual Apiru fare. He wore the shirt and kilt of an Egyptian but covered it with an Israelite cloak, and he had a filthy Israelite beard, once black, now streaked with white. His heavy brows were straight gashes over deep-set dark eyes, whose depths spoke of great love and great loss. The soldiers behind them pushed the Apiru to their knees, for no one gave full obeisance except to the Great House. The soldiers looked to Thut solemnly.

Thut shifted his scrutiny to the man on the leader's right side. He was a faded reflection of the taller man, with the same face shape and features but lacking his power and vitality. Although unshaven and bedraggled like his companion, he had at least fixed his warm brown gaze appropriately on the ground. Thut motioned absently for a scribe to begin the audience.

“Who calls on the mighty Horus-in-the-Nest?”

The assistant replied in a pleasant baritone, “We are but two of Pharaoh's, living forever! servants, residing here in the two lands since before the time of your illustrious grandfather, Thutmosis the First, may he fly with Osiris! Life! Health! Prosperity! We seek the pleasure of Horus-in-the-Nest.”

The scribe translated for Thut, who, though he knew the language of the Apiru, feigned ignorance, a wise choice at times. “Your Majesty,” the scribe whispered, “this man is one of the leaders of the Apiru. He sits on their council. He is an important man.”

Thut glowered at the scribe. “He is of no importance. He is only a slave. As we are not barbarians, though, I will hear his request.”

“Horus grants you to speak,” the scribe said.

The leader began speaking. Rather than the rough speech of a slave, however, court Egyptian haltingly emerged. His words were uncertain and his phraseology slightly antiquated, as if he had not spoken high Egyptian in many Inundations, but no translation was necessary. As the man searched for words, it became embarrassing to see his struggle. “My Lord of the two lands, upon whom your god Amun-Ra shines, my people worship Elohim. We beg your exalted favor to take a leave of three days and worship him in the desert.”

Although the words were appropriately humble, the expression in his dark eyes was not This man's request was a challenge, flung at Thut's feet.

Horus-in-the-Nest was affronted. Pushing aside his flustered scribe, he rose and walked down the steps, his irritation growing the closer he drew to the man. “Old man, though you may have the speech of a courtier, you are nothing but a slave! Your pleas to meet with your desert god have fallen on unwilling ears. Three days! Also one day to travel there and another to travel back? That is almost half a week! You people have multiplied like vermin, and I have no doubt that if you took your hundreds and thousands of tribe members into the desert, you would not return! Are not the gods of Egypt enough for you?” Thut asked in disgust. “Or perhaps they are too noble, too gracious, and too civilized for you, living in these marshy lands, with sheep and goats for family? If you cannot worship your god here, then perhaps he is not worm worshiping at all?”

A low rumbling passed through the audience, and the supplicants flushed, except for the leader, who stood straight backed and unflustered.

“Our God commands you to let us go,” he said.

Thut, on his way back to his stool, turned and stared. Did these Apiru not know they were supposed to wait for his dismissal or continuance? “Commands me?” Thut could not believe his ears. He was the prince regent; Horus-in-the-Nest; only Hatshepsut, living forever! reigned higher. He repeated, “Commands me?” The arrogant words of the old slave finally penetrated.
“Commands me?
No one commands me.
No one!
” His face purpled with rage. “I do not know your god, and I will not let you go!”

The leader persisted, undaunted. “The God of the Israelites has met with us. Let us make this journey or he may strike with plagues or the sword.”

Thut advanced on the leader, halting close enough that his infuriated whisper could be heard. “What is your name; slave? You dare to threaten me with your puny god? Get you and your people back to work.” With a gesture he dismissed them and climbed up to the dais to his stool.

While the Apiru were still within hearing he called out, “Scribe, send this message to all of my overseers and architects, effective upon receipt. Write, ‘Apparently the tribes have too much time on their hands if they can be planning festivals and sacrifices. From this time on, the people who have,’”—he consulted the papyrus scrap his chamberlain handed him— “‘Aharon and Ramoses for leaders from among the Apiru must collect straw on their own to make the bricks required of the Great House. The production quotas will remain the same.’”

Under his breath he muttered, “Lazy, insolent wretches. That is why they want to go into the desert. Give a foreigner enough to do and he won't listen to lies or dream ridiculous dreams.”

Thut had the satisfaction of seeing the assistant's shoulders slump in defeat. But the leader stood tall, his brown hand gripping his twisted and knobby staff. Teach them to cross the son of Thutmosis! he thought. He sat down and called for beer. It was turning out to be a pleasant day after all.

WASET

A
S SHE RECLINED IN THE TRAVELING CHAIR,
Chloe Stared out in amazement. She was in ancient Egypt, about to see the pharaoh. What Camille wouldn't give to spend just one day here! The thought of her sister in this environment, her mouth wide open and her indigo eyes bulging, made Chloe almost laugh aloud. She turned it into a cough under the curious gaze of Basha. Chloe's eyes pricked with tears as she remembered her losses. Temporary losses, she thought fiercely.

Though the guards looked at her open curtains with disapproval, she could not bear to shut them. Karnak sat on the river-bank, with a wide avenue leading into ancient Thebes, now called Waset, and another leading to the noblemen's houses and the palace. Her conveyance jogged along while Chloe looked back and forth, taking in the rich green border to the Nile's lapis blue. Trees arched over the roadway, lending patches of shade from the winter sun overhead. The noblemen's mud-brick houses were flat roofed and whitewashed, enclosing, she knew, peaceful courtyards, cool reflecting pools, and whole families of Apiru slaves. Only the gods in Egypt had permanent stone housing.

They jogged through the palace gates and stopped. Chloe alighted with help and new sandals and was led through a series of painted-and-gilded courtyards and hallways until they came to Hat's audience chamber. With a shaking hand Chloe smoothed her wig as she heard her titles announced for the first time.

“The Lady RaEmhetepet, Beloved of the Night, Servant of Ra in Silver, Speaker of the Sisterhood and Priestess of HatHor. Favored of the Great House.” The chamberlain banged his staff and Chloe walked into the long, narrow room, letting the “other” control her. Gold-and-white-clad courtiers and glittering ladies lined the room in an elegant gauntlet. She noted a few heads inclining in acknowledgment as she walked past.

At the far end was a raised dais, holding one of the most controversial women in all history. She, the “Great House,” sat stiffly on a golden chair, her feet in gilded, curved toe sandals planted firmly on a leopard stool, her arms folded with the symbols of her office clasped tightly in beringed fingers. As Chloe drew closer she saw that Hatshepsut was indeed dressed like a man in only a kilt and collar, which further accented the decided femininity of her heavy breasts and long lacquered fingernails. Her broad forehead was smooth above unmoving, wide-set black eyes, framed by weighty gold earrings set with precious stones. Her wide mouth was dusted with gold, and the pharaonic artificial beard of lapis and gold was fixed onto her pointed chin.

Chloe prostrated herself before the dais. Minutes passed before she was bidden to rise. The “other” told her this was a bad sign. Finally she was bade to look into Hat's black eyes. Chloe felt fear, respect, and wonder. This woman had maintained peace for her entire solitary reign of fifteen years.

“My Lady RaEmhetepet, My Majesty is saddened you still cannot greet me with your own tongue. As the sage Ptah-Hotep said, ‘Confine thy heart to what is good and be silent, for silence is more important than the
tef-tef
plant’. Is your heart confined to that which is good, my lady? Waset is filled with disturbing rumors concerning a strange visitor you had while serving the goddess HatHor.”

Pharaoh's voice was low and throaty, with the unmistakable tone of command. Chloe blushed when Hat's glance flickered to her feet. Had Basha told everyone about her feet? Chloe kept her face carefully blank, wondering where this was leading. “Perhaps after such esteemed company the rest of us are not worthy of your brilliant conversation?” This caustic remark sent a twitter of comment around the room. Chloe smiled ruefully and drew the papyrus note she had prepared from her sash. After handing it to the scribe, she perused the front of the room while he passed it to Hat to read.

The court was living artwork, from Kushite slave boys wielding huge iridescent peacock feather fans above Hat's head to the black-ringed eyes and obsidian bodies of her royal guard, dressed in red and gold, their oiled bodies gleaming in the filtered sunlight. Chloe unconsciously searched for one face, spotting it off to the right.

Lord Cheftu leaned casually on his ibis-headed staff of office, his face dark against his red-and-gold-striped head-cloth and heavy gold collar. Chloe jerked her gaze away as Hat looked up with a grim smile. “‘The lady begs My Majesty's pardon for appearing while she is still unable to speak, and begs my tolerance as she recuperates,’” she read. Hat fixed her fathomless black stare on Chloe. “I have also heard my lady is unwell in the mornings?”

Chloe blanched, and the tension level in the audience chamber rose.

“Perhaps her ladyship needs
more
than rest?”

Chloe smiled uncertainly in response. She didn't need the “other” to tell her that things were not going well.

“In My Majesty's graciousness,” Hat said, “I have decided you should have complete privacy and total attention until you are able to tell me yourself that you are well. We cannot let the RaEmhetep priestess of HatHor go unattended.” She paused for effect “I think perhaps the green of the delta will do you good. The palace,” she said with a smirk, “shall be at your lady's disposal. As shall”—she looked to her group of magi, physicians, and seers—“my private physician and
Hemu neter,
Lord Cheftu.” She smiled at him and he inclined his head, his expression inscrutable.

What began as a murmur became an uproar. Chloe knew this was as good as being banished. What had she—
correction,
what had RaEmhetepet done to incur such wrath?

“I wish my lady… to be
delivered
… with perfect haste,” Hat said in a ringing, biting tone, and then laughed.

Chloe backed from the room, her face on fire and her mind in a whirl. She walked hurriedly through the hallways and climbed into the traveling litter, pulling the curtains tight around her. Basha could find her own way.

She took several deep breaths, calming herself. She had few choices. Despite her best efforts it seemed she was unable to return to her time right now, so she must make a life here for herself until she found a way to go home. Life here wouldn't be too unbearable if she only knew what she was up against. Cammy would probably really profit from her experience. She must remember details for Camille.

After arriving back at Karnak, she rushed to her room and threw herself on the couch in a pique of frustration.

“Whatever have we done to be thrown from My Majesty, living forever's presence and made to consort with the pretender?”

Chloe rolled over and saw Cheftu seated at her vanity. The light glinted off his jewel-studded collar and the stones in his sandals and rings. His rugged face was taut and his saffron gaze deprecatory. “You do understand, do you not? The golden one suspects you of being unfaithful to your vows,” he said in a velvety voice. He walked toward her, disdain in every line of his body. “Have you been?”

Chloe, uncertain as to which part of her lengthy vows he was referring, shrugged forced herself to remain calm. What had she done?

Cheftu sat on the couch next to her and grabbed her shoulders roughly. “Do not be flippant, Moonlight; to break your vows is dangerous and sometimes deadly. I know you spread your legs easily enough when you are not serving. Perhaps you lost track of the time?”

The sarcasm fell like acid rain on Chloe's abraded nerves and feelings.

Cheftu ranted on, his voice rising in angered frustration. “Have you or have you not?”

She looked at him, suddenly weary and even more confused. What the bloody hell was wrong now?