Sphinx's Princess (18 page)

“If I don’t trust anyone, I’ll soon be like Aunt Tiye, seeing plots against me everywhere I look,” I said. “Father, I can’t live like that.”

“I would never tell you to do that,” he replied. “For now, rely on Henenu. Better to lean against a single wall made of stone than against a palace made of reeds. Not everyone in the royal court is a schemer, no matter what my sister thinks. If you go slowly, in time you’ll find other trustworthy people, and you’ll learn how to tell the difference between false friends and true. You’ll be walking
among lions. Promise me you’ll always keep your eyes wide open.”

“I will.”

“And I will send you messages as often as I can, so you never forget how much we love you.” He sighed. “I don’t know if Tiye will let them reach you, but I
will
send them.”

“Why would she keep your messages from me?” I asked.

“If I know her, she’ll soon dismiss our bargain and want to push you into marrying her boy. The more you’re reminded that you have a loving family in Akhmin, the less hope Tiye has that you’ll embrace a new one in Thebes.”

I hugged Father tight. “I have
one
family, and I don’t need any message to help me remember that.”

That night, I shared my sister’s room. We lay in the same bed and spent the hours whispering memories, making promises, and wondering about what the future might hold. I’d brought Berett with me, and the little slave girl lay across the foot of our bed, the only one of us to sleep.

“Maybe you should marry Thutmose right away,” Bit-Bit said. “Then you’ll be a princess and you can order them to bring me to Thebes.”

“And what would Mother and Father do without you? Besides, I haven’t even set eyes on Thutmose. I might not want to rush into marrying him.”

“Are you afraid he’ll be that ugly?”

“I don’t care about things like that,” I said. “The high priest’s son was very good-looking, but I couldn’t talk to him. It was like talking to a child.”

“I’m a child and you can talk to me,” Bit-Bit pointed out.

“No one is asking me to marry you …
child
,” I teased.

Bit-Bit rolled over, turning her back to me. “You can’t fool me, Nefertiti. You like pretty things. I’ll bet that you’d choose a good-looking husband over an ugly one.”

“I would not!” I protested. And I believed it.

The next morning, I took Aunt Tiye’s silver bracelet off my wrist and slipped it over my sister’s hand. Bit-Bit couldn’t take her eyes off it. “Oh, Nefertiti, you can’t give this to me! What if Aunt Tiye finds out?”

“Hide your hands behind your back when she comes to bid you farewell. Better yet, take it off and tuck it into your travel chest, but once you’re away from here, put it on and never take it off until we’re together again. I want you to have it, to look at it every day, and to remember me.”

“I don’t need a bracelet to help me do that!” Bit-Bit threw herself into my arms and clung to me until Father came to announce that it was time for my family to leave me.

Bit-Bit needn’t have worried about Aunt Tiye spying her gift going to Akhmin instead of Thebes. The queen didn’t bother to say goodbye to her brother. Instead she sent that tall, toadying servant of hers with a message saying that she was busy with preparations for her own departure from Abydos and wishing Father a safe voyage home.

I had to say my goodbyes at the gateway of the temple complex where we’d been staying. Henenu and Berett stood beside me as I watched the sedan chairs carry my parents and my little sister away. I didn’t move from the spot until they were completely gone from sight, and even then I didn’t cry. I didn’t know if the gods would listen to a prayer
that was half smothered by sobs, and I wanted to be sure that my words were heard.

“Blessed Isis, protect my father, my mother, my sister. Generous Hapy, give them a safe voyage home on your sacred river. Sweet Hathor, grant that we will meet again soon, in joy and peace. I don’t care if I meet them as a princess or a beggar, only as myself. Great Sekhmet, give me your strength to stand firm against anyone—anyone!—who tries to change who I am into someone they think I ought to be.” I stretched out my hands in the proper gesture for ending a prayer and wished I could still touch the loved ones who’d been taken from me.

A little later that morning, I found myself seated beside my aunt on the deck of her magnificent ship, watching the sailors unfurl a painted canopy to shield us from the sun. I’d given Berett into Henenu’s care again and asked my friend the scribe to explain to her why she couldn’t travel with me. I wanted to keep her out of my aunt’s sight for as long as possible. Aunt Tiye knew I had a slave girl, but I didn’t want her to know anything else about Berett. If she knew how deeply I cared about the child’s welfare, she’d turn it into a tool or worse: a weapon.

My aunt is giving me my first lesson in court intrigue and she doesn’t even know she’s doing it.
The thought pleased me.
Once we reach Thebes, I’ll ask Henenu to help me give Berett her freedom. It has to be done the right way. I can’t give her back her sister’s life, but at least she’ll have her own.

I looked ahead to where Henenu and Berett were standing at the prow of the ship, mingling with the few
servants important enough to sail in the royal vessel. The rest of Aunt Tiye’s attendants were making the voyage to Thebes in smaller, much less luxurious boats. Thebes lay upriver from Abydos, so we had the advantage of the prevailing winds. Our sail bellied out, and though the current of the sacred river ran against us, the power of the wind was stronger. Aunt Tiye also insisted that the sailors man the oars. She was in a great rush to bring me to Thebes. She demanded that the men row day and night, though that meant they had to put a small boat made of bound papyrus reeds over the side at sundown, to light the water ahead with a lantern. When the sailors tired, she had her servants take their places. No one grumbled. No one dared.

I don’t know how long it would have taken if we’d relied only on the wind, but by dawn of the third day, we’d reached our destination. I stood by the right-hand side of the ship and saw tawny cliffs and many buildings rising in the distance. I knew that rippling wall of stone was where the sun-god’s Boat of Eternity sheltered the carefully concealed tombs of many kings. Their queens were also buried on that side of the river, as were all the nobles who could afford to build their tombs deep in the rock. The buildings I saw were temples, built to receive offerings for the royal spirits who thronged those eternal cities of the dead. I thrilled to imagine the astounding wealth that lay hidden in the depths of those cliffs, but my heart beat even faster at the thought of all the histories of life after life and age after age, preserved in words carved into the temple walls. Through them, the dead could live and speak again. They were the
true
treasures.
I turned my back on the western bank and crossed to the left-hand side of the boat. From there, the view was even more impressive. We sailed in the midst of many ships, large and small, glorious and humble, all gliding past the glorious temples, palaces, and gardens of Thebes. The shore teemed with life. All sorts of people were scampering back and forth on unknown errands, though some of the more richly dressed didn’t seem to be in any hurry at all. Towering date palms cast their shadows onto the river. An old man poled a narrow papyrus raft through the shallows, singing lustily. Some women waded knee-deep in the water, filling pots. Others were hard at work, washing clothes and spreading them to dry on low-growing shrubs. Still others walked tall and straight, with baskets on their heads piled high with fruits, bread, and vegetables.

When our ship reached its berth at the dock, I was surprised to see that there were no sedan chairs waiting to carry us away. Instead, a troop of servants carrying sunshades and long-handled fans made from dyed ostrich plumes swarmed forward to greet the queen. Aunt Tiye beamed with satisfaction as they all raised their voices and welcomed her with every sign of delight. As soon as her foot touched the dock, her attendants surrounded her. “Well, my dear?” she called back to me. “What are you waiting for?”

I looked around for Berett and Henenu. There was no trace of them anywhere I could see on board our ship. Then I heard my friend’s familiar voice hail me. He’d already disembarked and was waving to me from the shore. Berett stood as close to him as his shadow, her thin arms wrapped
around her harp. Relieved, I left the royal ship and made my way to the queen’s side.

“You look disappointed, Nefertiti,” Aunt Tiye said. “Isn’t Thebes grand enough for you?”

“I’m not disappointed, Aunt Tiye, it’s just—”

“—you expected to be carried to the palace.” She’d read my thoughts and relished my look of astonishment. “Don’t worry. We’ll arrive at the palace in much more magnificent style than any sedan chair. Such things are old-fashioned, after all, but Abydos nurtures the past. Here at Thebes, we turn to the rising sun. You’ll see.”

I fell into step behind her. With our escort before and behind us, we walked under our sunshades away from the dock and up a wide street where the people ran to clear out of our path but clung to the sides of the road to acclaim their queen. Their cheers worked a potent magic spell that made Aunt Tiye seem to grow taller with every step. I dropped back a little and made a subtle gesture for Henenu to catch up to me. The servants knew him well enough to recognize his status as one of the court’s most respected scribes. Soon he and Berett were walking beside me under a sunshade of their own.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you on the ship,” I whispered to the little girl. “I know you were in good hands with Henenu, but I missed you very much. We won’t be parted again once we reach the palace. It will be a strange place at first. I don’t know what to expect there, so I’m a little nervous, but I think your music will help me to be calm; maybe even to be brave.” I smiled at her. “What
do you
think?” I didn’t expect an answer.

Berett shifted the harp in her arms. One small hand clasped mine. A low, musical sound threaded its way shakily through the morning air. My heart leaped as I realized that my little Berett was humming a tune. It was the first sound I’d ever heard come from her lips. Those few fragile notes made me so happy that I wanted to stop in the middle of the street and sweep her up into my arms.

Instead, I was the one snatched off my feet and swung through the air. I screamed as a sharp-faced man lifted me in his arms and set me down again in the blue shell of a chariot drawn by a pair of brown horses. They whinnied and skittered in their harnesses, but the man leaped lightly up behind me, seized the reins, and brought them under control. My aunt’s laughter sounded like a crow’s rough cawing.

“By Amun, Nefertiti, haven’t you ever mounted a chariot before?” she called out gleefully from her own place beside a white-kilted driver. The chariot she stood in was red and gold, the high wheels painted with multicolored bands and the two white horses in harnesses crowned with blue plumes. She pointed at the man behind me and added, “Go swiftly, but see to it that my niece reaches the palace in safety.” She didn’t threaten him with any dire consequence if I didn’t survive my first chariot ride unharmed, but I saw him turn pale anyway.

“My lady, please hold on to the rail tightly,” he whispered to me. “I’ll hold you, if you’ll allow it. It would be better if—”

“Wait,” I said. I looked to the queen’s chariot. Her driver slapped the reins on the horses’ backs and they took
flight like a pair of matched arrows, the light vehicle bouncing and swaying wildly as it skimmed the road. The instant it was out of sight, I jumped down from the chariot bed and ran back to Berett. The child crouched in the street, clinging to her harp as if it were the only thing holding her to the earth. Loyal Henenu stood by her, but every time he tried to coax her to look up at him, she shrank away. The sight of me being yanked away from her had renewed old terrors for the little one. If she curled up her body any tighter, she’d disappear.

I knelt in the dust beside her. “Little bird, look at me,” I told her gently. “I’m here; I’m all right. Remember what I told you? We won’t be parted once we reach the palace. I meant that. You must trust me, Berett. You aren’t my slave or even my servant; you’re my sister. I’d give my life to save you.”

She lifted her head and looked deep into my eyes. Very slowly, very distinctly, she nodded, and then she put her fingertips to her lips, kissed them, and pressed them to my cheek.

Once I had her calm again, I let her know that I’d see her in the palace. I remounted the chariot without my driver’s help and took a wide stance on the floorboards, my hands clutching the rail. A crack of the reins on the horses’ rumps and we were off. The charioteer guided his team with one arm around me, which forced him to give up full control of the team.
This is stupid
, I thought as my teeth clacked together when he gave the reins yet another too-sharp jerk.
Riding this way isn’t safer; it’s only more awkward.
“I can hold
on by myself,” I spoke up. “Use both hands to steer. We’ll travel faster.”

“But, my lady—”

“
Faster
,” I repeated. “Or do you think the queen likes being kept waiting?” He did as I told him. I could hardly believe it!

When we reached the royal palace, Aunt Tiye was nowhere to be seen. The chariot that had carried her home stood empty, the driver stroking his horses’ downy noses and lavishing them with praise. At first I thought that my driver had made a mistake and brought me to the wrong place. I’d expected Pharaoh’s palace to be like the temples, made of monumental blocks of stone, a fitting home for the man who called himself a living god. Instead, the palace was built out of the same sun-dried mud bricks that were used to construct our home back in Akhmin and every other house I’d ever seen outside of a temple’s precinct. The size of the building was much bigger and the decoration of the high facade was strikingly elaborate, but it was nowhere near as impressive as the houses of our other gods.

A group of three sturdy young women stood waiting in the gateway to the building. As soon as I set foot from the chariot, they approached me with words of welcome. “We are here to serve you, Lady Nefertiti,” one of them said, her broad face friendly and serious at once. She looked about my own age, though she acted like a much older woman. “I am Kepi. Will you please follow us to your rooms?”