Sphinx's Queen (9 page)

“We won’t go
into
the valley,” I said. “We’ll just go west for a bit. And we won’t do it unless we find a working canal. I followed one before. We’ll have plenty to drink.”
And maybe we’ll have something to eat, too
, I thought.
Maybe we’ll be luckier than I was at finding people working the land nearby
.

“A canal!” Amenophis clapped his hands. “Of course, it’s the perfect answer! We can drink our fill and catch fish much more easily than in the river. Our little osprey will be delighted.” He smiled at Nava, who was taking a nap in a nest of bulrushes while we planned.

“Fish?” Why hadn’t I thought of that when I was on my own?

“The irrigation ditches are full of them. You’re brilliant, Nefertiti.”

Brilliant?
I said nothing, and if he mistook my embarrassment for modesty, I wasn’t going to correct him. I could have followed that irrigation ditch to the wilderness of the Red Land, starving at every step when there was plenty to eat only a stone’s throw away!

I held fast to my shamed silence even after Nava woke up and we all waded into the river up to our knees, washing ourselves as clean as possible before resuming our journey. It was just as well—this was no time for idle conversation. Amenophis took charge, cautioning us to keep our voices low if we felt we had to speak, to follow a path that gave us the greatest concealment possible, and to keep our eyes and ears open for the first hint of Thutmose’s men seeking us by land or water. I listened to him, amazed at the changes that had come over him. Was this the shy, stammering boy I’d first met in the royal palace at Thebes? There’d been nothing princely about him then, yet now he sounded masterful. My heart beat faster, but our situation gave me no time to reflect on what I was feeling.

“Stealth will save us,” Amenophis said. “It won’t be easy, moving through the shoreline plants, but once we find a canal feeding from the river, we’ll go quickly alongside it and get to more open land. My brother can’t send an entire army after us, you know.” He spoke earnestly, trying to encourage us. “Father might have given him the right to rule Thebes in his absence, but the palace is full of watchful eyes. Thutmose knows that everything he does is being observed by nobles and other important men. Even with the priests of Amun on his side, he can’t charge ahead with mad commands. He must walk wisely, or he could find himself so far out of Father’s favor that not even Mother would be able to repair the situation.”

“I wonder how many men he
does
have seeking us,” I said.

“Several small patrols on each side of the river, I’ll bet.” Amenophis rubbed his chin. “Maybe half a dozen boats riding the water. Again, he doesn’t know that we’ve lost our boat, so he has to cover all the possibilities.”

“He’s probably sent men ahead to Dendera, too,” I suggested. “They’ll be on the lookout for our arrival.”

Amenophis nodded in agreement. “Trying to catch us before we can let my parents know we’ve come.” He frowned. “How will we get around them?”

“Let’s worry about that when we’re close enough to see the city’s gateway,” I said. “One step at a time, right?”

So we set out on our interrupted journey with no boat, no food, and nothing suitable for carrying water. The only tools we had were Amenophis’s knife and a tiny bow drill for kindling fire. How I thanked Thoth, god of wisdom, for my friend’s foresight in remembering to bring such a thing and for choosing one small enough to be carried in a pouch at his waist. Thanks to his prudence, that mad hippo hadn’t left us completely helpless.

We decided that we’d travel in the hours when the light was fading or not yet fully born. Amenophis wanted to carry Nava on his back, but she protested being treated like a baby. Sometimes the little Habiru girl acted so grown-up, sometimes so young! What a shame that we’d never know how old she truly was. On the day she was born, her former master must have been pleased to possess a new piece of property, but the only people who’d care
when
she had come into the world were her family. As far as we knew, all of them were gone. Now Nava trudged along between Amenophis and me, doggedly keeping up with the prince’s long strides. I never heard one word of complaint from her.

The day waned, and the number of boats on the sacred river dwindled with every step we took. Soon we saw only the shining surface of the water, as empty and untouched as it must have looked on the first day of its creation. The tall palm trees on the western bank stroked shadowy fingers over the river and the land. The song of insects along the shore changed tone as those who roamed by daylight gave place to their night-flying cousins. Everywhere the birds were settling down to sleep. Earlier that day, we’d raided their nests for eggs to eat, though we all would have preferred to have something meatier in our stomachs.

I shaded my eyes to see how Ra’s great sun-ship touched the mountain peaks shielding the royal tombs. The sky spread out banners of crimson and gold to greet the god as he descended into the underworld. All the land was preparing for night when we finally encountered the mouth of an irrigation canal.

“At last!” Amenophis exclaimed, starting to follow its path away from the river.

“Hadn’t we better stop for the night?” I said. “It’s going to be too dark to see where we’re going.”

“There’s still plenty of light.”

“For how long? Amenophis, we won’t be able to get far once it’s dark. How will we find a safe place to spend the night? Better to rest here now, where we
know
we’ll be sheltered by the river plants.”

“It’s better to get as far from Thutmose’s men as we can while we can,” he argued. “Let’s go.”

I pressed my lips together and folded my arms.
One moment I’m admiring how commanding he’s become; the next I’m ready to shove him into the river because he’s commanding
me
! Sweet Isis, give me patience
.

Amenophis met my stubborn look with one of his own, but he couldn’t outlast me. “Oh, all right,” he finally said, holding up his hands in surrender. “We’ll sleep among the rushes if you’re too afraid to go on.”

I started to protest, then bit my tongue.
This is the best place for us tonight; I know it
, I thought.
I don’t care if Amenophis believes I’m afraid; as long as he and Nava stay safe, I don’t care if he calls me seven kinds of coward!

We found a place where the reeds didn’t show the same juicy green as their neighbors because the ground humped up, lifting them farther from the water. I moved as quietly as I could, pushing down the faded plants until I’d made them into a crude mattress for us.

“It looks like a nest!” Nava declared. She settled into the center of it happily.

“Too bad it doesn’t hold more eggs,” I said. It was a joke, but one made on an empty stomach.

“Are you hungry, Nefertiti?” Amenophis didn’t wait for me to reply. “So am I. You two wait here; I’ll try to find us something to eat.” He vanished into the surrounding greenery before I could stop him.

Nava and I curled up together to await his return. He was away for a long time. I watched the patch of sky overhead lose more and more light until I saw the first pale sprinkling of stars. Nava and I had been passing the time by whispering stories to one another. She told me many of her people’s tales, including the wondrous story of how it all began when the One first spoke to a Habiru man in the Land of Two Rivers. In exchange, I told her stories about Isis and the child Horus and all the adventures they had while fleeing the wicked god Set. Her eyes always lit up with delight when I got to the scariest parts.

“You know, Nava, I don’t remember having such a taste for bloodcurdling stories when I was your age,” I remarked.

“I’m sorry you can’t remember things,” she replied. “You shouldn’t worry about it—that happens to old people.”

I had to laugh. “What I meant to say—to ask—is
why
do you like hearing such frightening things?”

She shrugged. “Because they’re not real. And because I know they’re going to be over.” She cast worried looks into the rushes surrounding us. “Not like now, waiting for Amenophis to come back. Do
you
know how much longer he’ll be gone, Nefertiti?”

“Oh, not much longer,” I said, forcing myself to sound confident. “Now whose turn is it to tell a story?”

As Nava was in the middle of telling me about a disobedient woman who was turned into salt, the rushes rattled and Amenophis dropped to his knees beside her. He smiled as he extended his cupped hands.

“More eggs!” Nava was overjoyed.

“Not as many as I’d like, but they’re better than nothing,” he told us. “Don’t eat them until you’ve smelled them. There wasn’t any sign of the mother bird near the nest; if they’ve been abandoned for several days, they might be rotten.”

I took one of the tiny eggs from his hands and cracked it delicately with a fingernail, then peeled away a shard of shell and sniffed. “They’re good.” I downed it in one gulp and cast my eyes over the remaining eggs, counting them to myself.

Amenophis saw what I was doing. “Here, have another. There were six of them to start, so we each get two.” He handed out our portions and pretended not to notice when I pressed my second egg into Nava’s hands. I, in turn, did the same when he shared his scanty meal with the little girl.

“I have something even better than eggs to share with you,” he said when we’d finished—which didn’t take long. “I found a house not too far up the canal!”

“A house!” Nava and I exclaimed as one. Visions of bread, beans, the simplest foods all danced before my eyes, more beautiful than the finest feast. “If we offer to help the people with their work, do you think they’d share—”

“There were no people.” Amenophis shifted awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more accurate: I found a deserted house beside the canal. A—a ruin, really. The roof’s gone, as are two of the walls. I—I got your hopes up for nothing. Forgive me.”

“Two walls are better than none,” I said. “We can see it for ourselves tomorrow. But is that why you took so long coming back to us? Because you were exploring in the dark?” I frowned at him. “You could’ve fallen into the ditch! And what if you’d stumbled across some night-prowling beast?”

He flinched so much that I imagine I must have looked just like Aunt Tiye at her sternest. “It wasn’t—wasn’t dark,” he countered. “And I had to search out the way ahead.
You
didn’t want to go on because you were afraid of trying an unknown path, so I looked into it.”

I gritted my teeth and took a deep breath. I’d told myself that it wasn’t important if he thought I was a coward. I’d told myself it didn’t matter.

Oh, I was so very, very wrong!

“Afraid?”
I snapped. “If I was so afraid, would I be
here?
No, I’d be in the royal palace at Thebes, eating roast quail and honey cakes, dressed in the finest linen, with gold around my neck instead of mud and insect bites! If I was as fearful as you seem to think, I never would have stood up to my aunt Tiye. I’d be safe, I’d be fed, and I’d be
married to your brother!”

Amenophis was slack-jawed at my outburst. His stammer returned in full force as he tried to apologize, but I was a captive of my own anger and refused to listen to him. Instead, I lay down on the flattened rushes, curled onto my side, and ignored him. I heard his repentant words trickle away into silence, then Nava’s small voice whispering, “Why is Nefertiti so mad at you?”

“I said something that hurt her feelings,” he replied, speaking in such a low, miserable voice that I could barely hear him. “It was wrong to do that, and what I said was wrong, too. She’s never been a coward, not for as long as I’ve known her. I was the one who was afraid of my own shadow.”

“You’re not like that now,” Nava said. I could picture her sitting beside Amenophis, taking his hand and gazing at him with steadfast eyes. “And I’ll bet
she
wasn’t always brave.”

He chuckled softly. “I can’t picture that, but I think I’d like to. Even if I only
imagined
her as someone who might need me as much as I need her, it would—it might let me think I had a chance to say—to tell her—”

“But she does need you,” Nava cut in. “For finding food. Thank you for the eggs.”

This time he laughed louder. “At least I’m good for something. Now sleep, Nava. We’ll have to be up early.”

The next morning, we were awake well before dawn and began our march inland, along the irrigation ditch. We moved as fast as caution would allow. Shadows still blurred the ground, and we didn’t want to take a tumble into the canal. Nava scurried to keep up with Amenophis’s long stride, and I brought up the rear.

I intended to keep my eyes on Nava at all times, but I couldn’t help letting my gaze stray. A morning breeze carried the scent of smoke and the faint sound of human activity from downstream. I paused for a moment and looked back. We were clear of the reeds, and there was only flat land with a few widely spaced stands of trees before me. In full daylight, we would have a completely clear view all the way to the river. As things were, I
thought
I saw the solid outline of a large tent surrounded by a scattering of smaller shapes.

Thutmose’s encampment
, I thought.
Those must be his men, still sleeping
. I sighed, thinking of how they all had breakfast waiting for them.
Stop that
, I told myself.
Stop pining for what you can’t have and start walking. And walk faster, or they’ll see you as easily as you see them. Go!

“Nefertiti?” Amenophis spoke my name hesitantly. He came back to see what was keeping me. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” I said curtly, and barged past him along the bank of the canal. By the time the Aten showed his bright disk, we’d reached the ruined house that Amenophis had discovered the night before. As he’d said, there was no roof left on the place, but the two walls that still stood were tall enough to hold a wedge of blessed shade. We settled down and slept for a while.