The Egyptian Royals Collection (15 page)

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Authors: Michelle Moran

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BOOK: The Egyptian Royals Collection
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“Fourteen,” I replied.

“When I was fourteen, I was fighting for the Elder against the Nubians. That was eight years ago,” he said thoughtfully.

So he was twenty-two now. General Nakhtmin’s age.

“Fourteen is an important age,” he added. “It is a time when destinies are decided.” He stared at me in a way that was unnerving. “You will be your sister’s closest adviser in Memphis.”

“I advise her in nothing,” I said quickly. “She takes her own advice.”

He raised his eyebrows and suddenly I wished that I hadn’t said anything. Then a soldier came into the cabin bearing a steaming pot of water. A second followed with dozens of bowls.

I was surprised. “How many of the men are sick?”

“Twenty-four. And there will be more by tomorrow.”

“Twenty-four?”
What had Amunhotep allowed to happen? It was half of the ship. I worked quickly, tearing leaves of mint and placing them in each of the cups. The general watched, appraising my work, and when I was finished he said nothing to me. He took away the steaming bowls and led me out the way I had come. I thought that nothing else would pass between us, but as we reached the king’s barge he bowed deeply. “Thank you, Lady Mutnodjmet.” Then he turned and disappeared into the night.

Our fleet of ships was docked close enough together that a sailor could stand at the stern of one and speak with a sailor on the prow of another. This is how talk of what I had done for Horemheb’s men spread from ship to ship, and whenever the barges docked for the night, word began reaching me of women looking to ease their monthly pain, or stop seasickness, or prevent the unwanted results of a casual encounter with a sailor.

“Who knew,” Nefertiti said, lounging in my doorway, “that Ranofer’s endless talk of herbs would be useful?”

I sorted through my box, handing Ipu ginger for seasickness and raspberry leaf for monthly pain. Preventing unwanted births would be more difficult. I had studied the combination of acacia and honey with Ranofer, but making it would prove more complicated. Ipu wrapped the herbs carefully in small strips of linen and wrote the women’s names with a reed pen and ink. She would pass them along to the women who’d asked for them.

Nefertiti continued to watch us. “You should charge for this. The herbs are not grown free.”

Ipu looked up and nodded. “I suggested that as well, my lady.”

I sighed. “Perhaps if I had a garden of my own …”

“And what happens when these run out?” Nefertiti wanted to know.

I looked into my box. The mint was nearly gone, and in a day there would be no more raspberry leaves. “Then I will replace them in Memphis.”

When we finally arrived in the capital of Lower Egypt, the women ran onto the decks and the men crowded next to them, catching their first glimpse of Memphis. She was beautiful. A city of busy markets glittering in the early morning sun. The Nile’s waters lapped against the steps of the Temple to Amun, and we could hear the calls of merchants unloading ships at the quay. The temples of Apis and Ptah rose over even the tallest buildings, their golden roofs shining in the sun. Nefertiti’s eyes were wide. “It’s magnificent!”

Amunhotep flinched. “I was raised here,” he said, “with my grandfather’s discarded treasure and unwanted wives.”

The servants unloaded the ships, and chariots were brought so that Pharaoh and his court could ride the short distance to the palace. Thousands of Egyptians pressed together in the streets, throwing petals, waving branches, and chanting the royals’ names until the sound grew so loud it deafened the noise of horses and chariots.

Amunhotep swelled with the people’s new love.

“They adore you,” Nefertiti said in his ear.

“Bring me two chests of gold!” Amunhotep shouted, but the viziers couldn’t hear him above the horses and cheering crowds. He motioned to Panahesi, who halted the chariots. Then he shouted a second time, “Two chests of gold!”

Panahesi dismounted from his chariot and ran back to the barge. He returned with seven guards and two chests, and when the people realized what was about to happen they grew wild in the streets.

“For the glory of Egypt!” Amunhotep took handfuls of deben and tossed them. There was a momentary silence, then Egyptians swelled around him, their chanting growing animallike. Nefertiti tossed back her head and laughed, taking handfuls of rings herself, tossing them to the people.

Crowds began running after the king’s chariot, and Horemheb’s soldiers blocked their passage with their spears. When we passed through the gates of the palace, the mob had grown uncontrollable. There were thousands now, but the chests were empty. “They want more!” Nefertiti shouted, seeing women hurl themselves at the gate.

“Then give it to them!” Amunhotep cried. A third chest was brought, but my father raised his arm.

“Is this wise, Your Highness?” He looked directly at Nefertiti. “The people will
kill
each other in the streets.”

Panahesi stepped forward. “I say bring a fourth chest, Your Majesty. They will love you.”

Amunhotep laughed jubilantly. “A fourth!” he cried.

A fourth chest was brought to join the third and debens of gold were scattered over the gates. Horemheb shouted orders to his men, telling them to arrest any citizen or slave who attempted to scale the walls.

“They’re fighting!” I gripped my mother’s sheath in horror.

“Yes.” Amunhotep smiled. “But they will know that I love them.” He strode from the gardens into the halls of the palace, servants trailing on his heels.

My father said angrily, “You cannot buy the people’s love. They will come to disdain you.”

Amunhotep stopped walking and Nefertiti reached out in a conciliatory gesture, putting a hand on his arm. “My father’s right. There is such a thing as too much.”

Panahesi sidled up to him. “But the people will be talking about the Great Pharaoh Amunhotep for months.”

Amunhotep ignored my father’s concern. “Take us to our rooms!” he commanded, and we were shown to our new chambers.

As always, Pharaoh’s chamber was in the center of the palace. Nefertiti’s clothes were brought into his rooms, and although the Memphis servants stared wide-eyed, the Malkata servants knew better. Vizier Panahesi and my parents were placed in a courtyard to the left of the king, and I was to Nefertiti’s right in a separate chamber, divided only by a short hall. The standing army of nearly three thousand men would arrive in ten days and be housed in their own quarters, rooms just outside the palace but behind its walls. Of the soldiers who’d journeyed with us, nearly two hundred of them had died on the ships.

In my new room in the king’s courtyard, I stared at my gilded bed with its carved images of Bes, the dwarf god of protection, who would keep away demons. The room was large, with plump feathered cushions in every corner and brightly glazed pottery on low cedar chests. The ceiling was held up by columns in the shape of lotus blossoms, and in a corner Ipu was already rearranging my belongings. She had seen how I’d placed my herb box in a cool corner of my room in Malkata and had done the same, even going through the trouble of hanging up the amber-colored leaves of myrrh the way I had, to sweeten the chamber. She hummed as she worked, and Nefertiti appeared in my doorway, smiling.

“Come see this,” she said. She hooked my arm in hers and led me into the royal chamber. She stood back, grinning, and I gasped.

I would never see another room like it. It was exquisitely tiled and painted, furnished with gold statues honoring the most powerful Egyptian gods. From a wide, arching window, it was possible to see the manicured palace gardens and a tree-lined avenue sloping down to the Nile. There was a room for wigs that was scented with lotus, and an entire chamber where Merit could work. I went into this second room, where everything was laid out in preparation: pellets of incense for under the arms, hair curlers, tweezers, jars of perfume, and pots of kohl already mixed with date palm oil. A hand mirror had been cleverly carved into the shape of an ankh and makeup chests filled every available space. Every lamp was inlaid with ivory and obsidian.

Amunhotep sat in the corner, watching my expression. “Does the Sister of the King’s Chief Wife approve?” he asked, standing and taking Nefertiti’s arm so that she had to let go of mine. “You’re the first person your sister ran to get.”

I bowed. “It is beautiful, Your Highness.”

He sat down and pulled Nefertiti onto his lap. She laughed, and indicated that I should sit across from them. She said merrily, “Tomorrow the builder, Maya, is going to begin the temple.”

I sat. “To Aten?”

“Of course to Aten,” Amunhotep snapped. “On the twenty-sixth of Pachons, the army will begin collecting taxes from the priests. On the first of Payni, we build. Once the temple is finished, we won’t need the high priests.
We
will become the high priests.” He turned to my sister in triumph. “You and I … and the gods will speak though us.”

I recoiled. This was blasphemy.

But Nefertiti said nothing and avoided my gaze.

Dinner in the Great Hall was chaotic. Though the chamber was the same as it had been in Thebes, confusion turned the towering hall into a commotion of rushing people that I’d only ever seen the likes of in the marketplace. Servants were bowing to scribes and snubbing courtiers because they hadn’t learned the faces of the Theban nobility. Only a few of Egypt’s viziers were in attendance, and even Panahesi was absent, probably still seeing to his robes and his rooms. Women came up to thank me for my herbs, women I had never seen before, and they all wanted to know if I would continue to carry acacia, adding that they would be willing to pay me for it, and the raspberry leaves if I would continue to provide them.

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