The Egyptian Royals Collection (14 page)

“Good-bye, General,” I said coolly, then turned to join my mother beneath the awning.

The caravan was ready. The animals shifted uncomfortably in the warm courtyard, and there was nervousness in the air. The horses whinnied impatiently and servants stroked their muzzles to calm them. I had packed my plants into a carefully prepared chest, placing linen between the pots to stop them from rocking together on the short trip from the palace to the quay. On the ship, I could unpack them and place them where they could find sun. But there were only a dozen. The rest I left in the palace, taking clippings from their leaves and storing them in an inlaid ivory box. There were dozens of these, and in small, tightly bound linen bags I’d stockpiled some of the most useful plants. General Horemheb inspected the army, then Amunhotep knelt before his father, receiving the Elder’s blessing.

“I will make you proud,” Amunhotep swore. “The gods are rejoicing on this day.”

I saw the Elder turn to Tiye, and I imagined they were both thinking of Tuthmosis, who should have been kneeling there instead of Amunhotep. Amunhotep saw this, too, and stood.

“You may wish for Tuthmosis,” he hissed sharply, “but I am the son who rules Lower Egypt.
I
am the one the gods chose,
not
him.”

Queen Tiye straightened her shoulders. “May the gods protect you,” she said coldly. Pharaoh nodded, but there was no love in his eyes.

Amunhotep straightened his tunic self-consciously, and when he saw that the soldiers and servants were watching he cried out violently, “Move!”

My body servant appeared and shouted, “Into your litter!”

I scrambled inside. The caravan surged forward. I was behind Nefertiti and Amunhotep, who rode together. I parted the curtains and waved to my aunt. She waved back. The Elder, I noticed, looked solemn. We departed in a cloud of dust, riding the short distance to the bay that surrounded the palace. The glare off the moving water could be seen through the strips of linen protecting me from the sun, and then the caravan stopped where a fleet of impressive Egyptian ships had been moored. We were lowered in our litters and the royal family was taken onto the barges. Because we were part of the royal family now, my mother, father, and I would be traveling on Pharaoh’s barge with golden pennants flying from the mast. Panahesi and his family had their own private ship. I was glad for the separation; no vessel could have held both Nefertiti and Kiya.

The barges could fit fifty-two soldiers rowing at the oars and another twenty passengers above or below decks. In the midst of the ships were wooden cabins with two chambers inside. The cabins were built of wood and covered in linen. “To protect against the heat,” my father said.

“And where will the soldiers sleep?” I asked him.

“On the deck. It’s warm enough now.”

The ships looked handsome in the water. The ebony oars, inlaid with silver, caught the light, and the calls of an ibis searching for its mate echoed across the bay. I watched from the steps as treasures from the Elder’s palace were packed: copper bowls, cedar wig chests, alabaster statues, and an altar of granite that was inlaid with pearl. The slaves strained under the weight of the many heavy baskets, loading Egypt’s finest jewels onto the vessels last so that the guards could watch over them.

When the ships set sail, I went to find my parents in our cabin. My mother was playing Senet with the wife of Egypt’s most honored architect.
So Amunhotep convinced him to leave Thebes after all
, I thought. “Where’s Father?” I asked her.

My mother used her chin to indicate the stern of the ship, but she didn’t take her eyes from the game. Like Nefertiti, she was good at Senet. I wandered out to the stern and heard my father’s voice before I saw him.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” he demanded.

“Because I knew you would be angry. But Horemheb is on our side. He understands what we are doing.”

I peered beyond the door of the cabin and saw my father shake his head. “You are making enemies for this family faster than we can make allies. The sands of Memphis will swallow us whole, and if the people rise against you …”

“But they will love us!” Nefertiti promised. “We will build them greater temples than they have ever seen. We will hold more feast days, and we’ll
give
to the people. This is Amunhotep’s
dream
.”

“And yours?”

She hesitated. “Don’t you want to be remembered?”

“For what? For taxing the temples?”

A short silence hung between them.

“You will be the most powerful man in the kingdom,” she pledged. “I shall see to it. While he builds temples, you will rule this kingdom. He has no interest in politics. Everything will be left to you, and Panahesi will be like bronze to your gold.”

Chapter Nine

Shemu, Season of Harvest

BY THE SECOND
of Pachons, I began to recognize the sailors on board our ship. They nodded as I passed, but they were wearied and beaten, driven all day in the sun with only water and soup to sustain them. They always had time for Ipu, however. When she walked the decks with her heavy gold earrings and swaying hips, the men talked to her the way a brother might talk with his sister, and quietly, when no one was looking, they laughed. But they never spoke to me except to mumble politely, “My lady.”

By the third day of the voyage, I had grown bored. I tried to read, learning about trees that grew in the Kingdom of Mitanni far to our north where the Khabur and the Euphrates overflowed their banks. I read all seven treatises that Ipu had collected in the markets of Thebes by the time we had spent seven days without disembarking. Then, on the eighth night, even Amunhotep grew weary of constant travel, and we were taken to shore to build fires and stretch our legs.

The servants gathered wood to roast the wild geese they had caught on the river, and we all ate in the Elder’s best faience bowls. It was a glad change from the hard bread and figs we had been eating, and Ipu joined me at the fire, holding a cup of Pharaoh’s best wine. Across from us, at a dozen different fires, soldiers were getting drunk and courtiers were playing Senet. Ipu stared into her cup and smiled.

“As good as anything I’ve ever tasted,” she said.

I raised my brows. “Even the wine from your father’s vineyard?”

She nodded and leaned close. “I think they have opened the oldest barrels.”

I sucked in my breath. “For
tonight?
And Pharaoh doesn’t care?”

She glanced at Amunhotep, and I followed her gaze. While the courtiers laughed and Nefertiti spoke in low tones with our father, Amunhotep was staring into the fire. His lips were drawn into a thin line and the bones in his face appeared hollow in the flickering light. “He only cares about getting there,” Ipu replied. “The faster he arrives in Memphis, the sooner he can take up the crook and flail of Egypt.”

Panahesi was making his way toward our circle with an obviously pregnant Kiya. As they drew near the fire, Nefertiti turned and pinched my arm roughly. “What is she doing here?” she demanded.

I rubbed my arm. “She’s coming with us to Memphis, remember?”

But Nefertiti didn’t hear my sarcasm. “She’s pregnant. She should be back on the ship.”
And away from Amunhotep
, she wanted to add.

One of Kiya’s ladies spread a feathered cushion on the sand and Kiya sat across from Amunhotep, resting her hand on her large hennaed belly. She was soft and fresh, natural in her pregnancy, while across the fire Nefertiti glittered with malachite and gold.

“We are halfway to Memphis,” Panahesi announced. “Soon, we will arrive and Pharaoh will be enthroned in his palace.” The small group around the fire nodded, murmuring among themselves, and my father watched him carefully. “Are the plans going well for the building, Your Highness?”

Amunhotep straightened, awakening from his stupor. “The plans are coming magnificently. My queen has a great mind for design. We have already sketched a temple with a courtyard and three altars.”

Panahesi smiled indulgently. “If His Highness should need any help …” He spread his palms and Amunhotep nodded at his loyalty.

“I have already made plans for you,” he said. At nearby fires, the courtiers stopped playing Senet. “When we reach Memphis,” Amunhotep announced, “I want you to see to it that General Horemheb succeeds in collecting taxes from the priests of Amun.”

The fire snapped and hissed, and Panahesi hid his shock, looking quickly to Nefertiti to see if she’d known, gauging how far the Pharaoh trusted her now. Then all of the viziers began talking at once.

“But Your Majesty,” one of them interjected. “Is that prudent?”

Panahesi cleared his throat. “Of course, it is prudent. The temples of Amun have never been taxed. They hoard Egypt’s wealth and spend it as their own.”

“Exactly!” Amunhotep exclaimed. He struck his fist into his palm and many of the soldiers turned to hear what Pharaoh was saying. I looked at my father, whose face was a blank courtier’s mask, but I knew what he was thinking:
This king is only seventeen years old. What will happen ten years from now, when power rests on his shoulders like a comfortably fitting cloak? What precedents will he topple then?

Panahesi leaned over and said to the king, “My daughter has missed you these eight nights at sail.”

Amunhotep glanced quickly at Nefertiti. “I have not forgotten my first wife,” he said. “I will come to her again … when we are in Memphis.” He looked across the fire at Kiya, who was feigning ignorance about what her father had just said. She smiled lovingly at him.
Little minx
, I thought.
She knows exactly what her father’s doing
.

“Shall we walk along the beach?” Nefertiti said at once, grabbing my arm and whisking me up.

I held my breath as we walked away; I thought my sister would be enraged. But as we pressed our feet along the wet banks of the Nile, trailed by two guards, her spirits were high. She looked up at the wide expanse of stars and breathed in the fresh air. “The reign of Kiya in Amunhotep’s heart is over. He’s not going to visit her again until we reach Memphis.”

“That’s not so long,” I pointed out.

“But
I’m
the one designing his temple with him.
I’m
the one who’ll reign at his side. Not her. And soon I’ll be with his child.”

I glanced at her sideways. “You’re pregnant?”

Her face fell. “No, not yet.”

“Have you taken the honey?”

“Even better.” She laughed as if she were intoxicated. “My servants found mandrake.”

“And they made the juice?” It was a difficult process. I’d only seen Ranofer do it once.

“Yes. I took it last night. And now it could happen at any time.”

At any time. My sister, pregnant with the heir to Egypt’s throne. I stared at her in the silver light and frowned. “But aren’t you ever afraid of his plans?”

“Of course not. Why should I be afraid?”

“Because the priests could rise against you! They are powerful, Nefertiti. What if they should try assassination?”

“Without the army, how could they? The army is on our side. We have Horemheb.”

“But what if the people never forgive you? It’s their gold. It’s their silver.”

“And we’ll be freeing it from the stranglehold of the Amun priests. We will give back to the people what the priests have taken.”

My voice sounded cynical even in my own ears.
“How?”

Nefertiti looked out over the waters. “Through Aten.”

“A god only you understand.”

“A god
all
of Egypt will come to know.”

“Because that god is really Amunhotep?”

She shot me a look, but she didn’t reply.

The next morning, the sailors were slow to start. They had taken too much wine, so by orders of Amunhotep no one was to be allowed onshore again. My mother and father said nothing, exercising their cramped legs on the deck, but three nights later word spread between the ships that six of Horemheb’s men had died. The servants whispered that their deaths had been caused by tainted water and food.

“What does Pharaoh expect?” a vizier hissed at my father. “If we’re not allowed onshore to find fresh water regularly, then men are going to die.” Dysentery, someone called it, an ailment that could have been cured by any local physician had the men simply been allowed to go onshore.

Two nights later, news came that eleven more men had died. Then the general disobeyed Amunhotep’s orders. In the evening, he stalked to the royal barge at the front of the fleet and came on board our ship, demanding an audience with the king at once.

We looked up from our Senet games and my father stood swiftly. “I do not know if he will see you, General.”

Horemheb would not be turned away. “More men are dying and the dysentery is spreading.”

My father hesitated. “I will see what I can do.” He disappeared into the cabin. When he returned, he shook his head grimly. “The Pharaoh will see no one.”

“These are
men
,” Horemheb said between clenched teeth. “These are men who need
help
. A physician is all that they need. Will he sacrifice men to arrive sooner in Memphis?”

“Yes.” The door to the innermost cabin opened and Amunhotep appeared in his kilt and
nemes
crown. “Pharaoh does not change his mind.” He strode forward. “You have heard my decision!” he shouted.

Real danger flashed from Horemheb’s eyes. I thought he might slit Amunhotep’s throat with one slip of his dagger. Then Horemheb remembered his place and moved toward the door.

“Wait!” I cried, surprising myself. The general stopped. “I have mint and basil. It may cure your men, and we wouldn’t have to go ashore for a physician.”

Amunhotep tensed, but Nefertiti appeared in the cabin door behind him. “Let her go,” she urged.

“I could use a cloak,” I said quickly. “No one would even know I was gone.” I looked to Amunhotep. “Then the people would think your orders have been obeyed and the lives of your soldiers would be spared.”

“She studied herbs in Akhmim,” Nefertiti explained. “She might be able to cure them. And what if the dysentery should spread?”

General Horemheb looked to Pharaoh for his decision.

Pharaoh raised his chin, feigning an air of munificence. “The Sister of the King’s Chief Wife may go.”

My mother’s face was disapproving, my father’s eyes unreadable. But these were men’s lives. To let them die when we could save them would go against all the laws of Ma’at. What would the gods think if on our way to Memphis, to the start of a new reign, we let innocent men die? I ran to my pallet and collected my herb box. Then I threw on a cloak and in the shadow of darkness followed Horemheb onto the deck. Outside, the wind of the Nile rustled my cloak. I was nervous. I wished I could bend in quick obeisance to Bast, the god of travel, for safe journey. But I followed the general in front of me, who said nothing. We boarded the vessel, where the men were suffering and the stench of sickness was overwhelming. I put my cloak to my nose.

“A squeamish healer?” the general asked, and I dropped the cloak in defiance. He led me into his own cabin. “What do you need?”

“Hot water and bowls. We can soak the mint and basil and make it into tea.”

He disappeared to collect what I needed and I studied his chamber. The cabin was smaller than the one that Pharaoh and Nefertiti were sharing and nothing hung on the walls, even though we had been on the river for almost twenty days. His pallet was neat and folded, and four armless chairs were arranged around a Senet board. I looked at the pieces. Whoever had been black had won the last game. I guessed it was Horemheb or he wouldn’t have let the pieces remain.

“The water is heating,” he said when he returned. He didn’t offer me a seat. I remained standing.

“You play Senet,” I remarked.

He nodded.

“You were black.”

He studied me with an interested expression. “They said you were the wise one.” He didn’t add whether he believed them now, but he indicated a seat with his hand. He took one himself, crossing his arms over his chest while we waited for the water to boil. “How old are you?”