The Egyptian Royals Collection (102 page)

“So what does this prince want Egypt to do?” Anhuri’s voice was suspicious.

“He wants us to place him back on the throne,” Ramesses replied. “And he has arrived in Avaris with a very attractive offer.”

Paser spoke up. “Prince Urhi has offered a return of the lands that the Heretic lost.”

“
All
of them?” Asha challenged.

“All,” Ramesses replied.

“And how do we know he won’t change his mind?” Asha shook his head. “Look at Kadesh! No Hittite can be trusted.”

Ramesses agreed. “We could march into Hatti and discover a trap. We might discover that Urhi hasn’t been displaced from his throne at all. We could be ambushed, and all of Egypt would be lost.”

“I don’t think Urhi is that cunning,” I said. “He has never led an army into battle. Listen to what the Hittite servants in this palace have all said about him. They take their gossip from travelers who come by, and they call him pretty, they call him a prince, but never an emperor. Who among us would dare to call Ramesses a prince?”

None of the men at the table spoke up.

“If Ramesses were to follow him into Hatti, Egypt would profit, and Urhi wouldn’t dare to go back on his word. He’s not a fighter. But he may be a fool, and if that is the case, how can such a man be expected to keep a crown?”

The viziers nodded in agreement with me. Egypt could help return Urhi’s throne, but if he lost it a second time, then what was the purpose?

“And the truce?” Asha asked. “If the prince remains here, what will Hattusili do?”

“He may go back on his brother’s truce,” Vizier Nebamun predicted.

“But Hatti is not as strong as she was,” Paser argued. “While she was busy stealing our land in the north after the Heretic’s death, Assyria conquered the kingdom of Mitanni.”

“And now the Assyrians won’t be satisfied with Mitanni alone,” Ramesses mused.

Paser agreed. “They will move west to the cities that belong to Hatti. With the Assyrians at his throat, Hattusili can no longer afford to make an enemy of Egypt.”

Ramesses sat back in his chair, and the generals watched while he closed his eyes to think. “We will send Hattusili a treaty,” he said, haltingly. “A signed gesture of peace between Hatti and Egypt. The promise to send military aid to each other if the Assyrians attack. Hatti may be our rival, but Assyria has become the greater threat.”

“If Hattusili signs the treaty,” Paser added, “we could promise them aid in time of famine.”

“And in exchange for that,” Ramesses said with growing excitement, “they must give us access to their ports. And to Kadesh.”

But Vizier Nebamun’s look was wary. “No kingdom in the world has ever made such an agreement with their enemies.”

Ramesses sat straighter in his chair. “We can be the first.”

We stayed in the Audience Chamber until the early hours of morning, discussing the terms of this treaty, and by dawn only Paser remained with Ramesses and me. Once the temple’s morning rituals were finished, Woserit came to bring us fresh fruit.

“Tell me about the treaty,” she asked, but Ramesses was too tired to speak.

“It will give Hattusili the chance at peace and to consolidate his throne,” I said. “But if he doesn’t want it, then he can risk a war with both Egypt and Assyria. And we still have the prince …”

Paser smiled wearily. “Pharaoh Ramesses is forging a new way of living among nations. If Hattusili won’t sign, then we will make the same offer to Assyria.”

“And we are offering more than just military aid,” I said. “If a criminal dares to run and hide in Hatti, they will have to send him back. And if a Hittite tries to do the same, we will send him to Hatti.”

Woserit saw my name at the bottom of the papyrus and glanced at me. My signature was now on official correspondence. In deed, if not in name, I had been made Queen of Egypt. I wanted to dance across the palace and shout the news from every window, but I knew enough to keep my silence. Unless Hattusili approved it, the treaty would remain a secret. But if he agreed, the entire court would know that I had signed it.

“You should get some sleep,” Woserit said with real pleasure in her voice. “This has been a long, though very rewarding night.”

“
If
the Hittites agree.” Ramesses sighed. He squinted against the early light of dawn, and we took her advice and retired to my room. As we settled into my bed, the linen sheets felt deliciously cool against the rising heat of morning. When I asked him if we should go instead to the Audience Chamber, he said, “Unless it’s a messenger with news from Hatti, there’s no one in Egypt I wish to see right now. Except you.” He reached out tenderly to caress my cheek, but a knock resounded throughout the chamber and he withdrew his hand.

“Nefertari?” A voice came through the door. I glanced at Ramesses, and the pounding came again. “Nefertari, open up!” someone shrieked. I recognized the voice as Iset’s.

“What is she doing?” Ramesses exclaimed.

“I don’t know.” I crossed the chamber and swung open the door. The rage in Iset’s eyes was so blinding, she didn’t seem to recognize Ramesses behind me.

“Is it true?” she demanded. At once, I knew that Rahotep must have told her. “Did Ramesses put your name on the message that’s being sent to Hatti?”

I opened my mouth, but it was Ramesses who came to my side and spoke. “Yes.”

Iset staggered backward. “You
promised,
” she whispered.

“Iset—” Ramesses reached out to stop her from leaving, but she shook her head angrily.

“No! You made a promise to me, and I should have known you would break it for her!”

“I have
never
betrayed a promise!” Ramesses swore.

“You have!” she insisted, and now wouldn’t move. A small crowd was gathering in the hall. Courtiers stopped to stare, and servants pressed themselves against the wall in fear. “On our wedding night, you promised to love me above all other women. You promised it!” she screamed, and there was a wildness in her eyes. “You took me in your arms—”

“Iset!”

“And swore there could never be a woman as beautiful or charming as me. You said the people loved me!” she cried. “But it’s not my name on that scroll. It’s Nefertari’s!”

Ramesses glanced at me to see my expression. The entire palace would know of it now.

“Go to your chamber,” Ramesses commanded. “Go to Ramessu and calm yourself.”

“How can I be calm,” she shrieked, “when you have slighted me in front of the entire court?” She looked around, and for the first time saw that it was true. Rahotep had come to see the commotion. Now he stepped forward to take her away. “Don’t touch me!” she shouted. “
You
are the one who convinced him to do this!
You
are the one who’s pretended to be my ally while speaking for Nefertari!”

“No one speaks for Nefertari,” Ramesses said sternly. “She speaks for herself. And that is why she will be queen when the feasts of Kadesh are finished.”

Rahotep stopped where he was in the hall, and Iset grew very still.

“You say you’ve never broken a promise,” she whispered. “Then what of your promise to your father to wait a year before choosing a Chief Wife?”

I held my breath. Then Ramesses said quietly, “It is the first and last promise I intend to break.”

There was nothing Iset could do or say. Rahotep led her away, and Ramesses closed the door. “She is not the same woman I took to wife,” he whispered.

I wanted to tell him that she was, that she hadn’t changed at all, but instead had grown desperate, knowing she would never be able to give Henuttawy what she wanted. Instead, I said cryptically, “Sometimes, we misjudge who people are.”

“Like the Shasu spies?” he asked miserably. “Perhaps I should leave the judging to you.” He took my hand and led me back to our bed. “You know, it’s true.”

“What’s true?”

“I have never broken a promise. This is the first promise I intend to break, and in a few days, Egypt will have another cause for celebration. A magnificent queen for its throne.”

BY EVENING,
the entire palace of Pi-Ramesses had learned that I would be made queen. As I entered the Great Hall, where Henuttawy sat drinking with the prince of Hatti, I was flocked by courtiers wishing to congratulate me.

“It’s not done yet,” I told them demurely, but Aloli was among the women, and she exclaimed loudly, “Not done yet? All that’s left is to fit the crown!”

Woserit and Paser appeared arm in arm, and when they came to offer me their best wishes, Woserit squeezed my hand and I knew, at last, that our long struggle was over. For the first time in my life no one would look at me as the Heretic’s niece. In the streets, on the dais, in the Audience Chamber, I would be treated with the respect due to a queen. And in the temples, the images of my
akhu
would never be erased. Their names would be carved with mine until eternity, and the gods would remember them when they returned to walk among the living.

Woserit smiled. “It’s done.”

“There’s still the coronation,” I worried.

“And what do you think will go wrong by then?” She laughed with real joy, and I realized it was a sound I had heard very rarely from her.

Merit appeared with Amunher and Prehir on each hip, while about her servants rushed to light the hundreds of candelabra that would burn deep into the night. I looked to the dais and wondered what my reception there was going to be. Henuttawy was sitting with the Hittite prince, passing him wine and sipping from his cup.

Merit saw the line of my gaze and whispered, “She’ll still expect payment from Iset. And who knows what she promised to Rahotep to ruin your name.”

“I should think her body has been payment enough.”

“For Rahotep?” Merit’s upper lip curled. “She doesn’t know his history, then.”

I looked for the High Priest of Amun, but he was missing from his place at the dais.

Ramesses joined me in the doorway, dressed in a kilt striped with gold, and his smile was brilliant. “Ready?” he asked. He took my arm in his, and through a crowd of courtiers offering us their blessings, we approached the dais. For the first time, small wooden seats had been arranged for my sons, and because they were too young to behave themselves, there was an armed chair for Merit where she could sit and watch over them as they ate.

I took the throne to the right of Ramesses. The viziers stood, and Henuttawy announced with a sneer, “The princess who will be queen. Come. A toast to Nefertari!” She raised her cup and everyone at the table did the same.

“To Nefertari!” they echoed merrily.

“Of course, I don’t want to celebrate too long,” Henuttawy said, and her words were slurred from too much wine. “After all, I have to make
obeisance
in the morning.” She stood up and, as she looked at Iset, added bitterly, “Are you coming?”

Iset glanced at Ramesses. “Of course not. My … my place is here.”

Henuttawy narrowed her eyes. “Then I will see you all in the morning.” She smiled intimately at Urhi. “Good luck with your petition.”

Her scarlet robes disappeared through the double doors, and for the rest of the night, the Hittite prince sat alone, watching Ramesses anxiously. Finally, when the feast was nearly over, he asked, “Has Egypt made its decision?”

“I’m sorry, but we must consider it further.”

“Your Majesty,” Prince Urhi said passionately. “My throne has been taken. There is no chance I can raise an army on my own, but with you at my side, think of the triumph we would know! I would cede you all the lands that Pharaoh Akhenaten lost. Every last one in our empire.”

Though I could see that Ramesses was desperately tempted, peace was more important now. “I understand your proposal,” he began, then the doors of the Great Hall suddenly swung open and a servant cried, “The High Priestess of Isis has been murdered!”

There was a moment of stunned silence in the hall, and then the entire chamber was thrown into confusion. The courtiers rose, and Ramesses rushed from the dais, as I followed close behind. General Anhuri reached the boy first and took a bloodied knife from his hand.

“Move!” Ramesses shouted. “Move!” He grasped my arm, and as we approached Anhuri and the stained blade, Ramesses’s face became ashen. “Who did this?”