The Egyptian Royals Collection (76 page)

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

F
IRST
V
ICTORY

                  
WHEN A PHARAOH
comes home victorious from battle it means the gods are not only watching us, but have extended their hands to our kingdom in aid. Throughout the city of Thebes, crowds celebrated in the streets, eating the honeyed cakes being sold by vendors and washing them down with pomegranate wine. The men wore long kilts to protect them from the cold, and I was shielded against the wind by the soft fur of Woserit’s cloak. I stood with the court on the Avenue of Sphinxes by the Amun temple, and Woserit whispered nervously, “Remember what I taught you.”

“That Ramesses must come to me first,” I repeated.

“You must not run to him like a fish-starved cat. But if he wants a private audience with you, then you may give him one.”

I looked up in surprise, since Woserit had never said this before.

“Men are like
iwiw,
” she explained, making me think of Queen Tuya’s pampered dog. “Give them a good meal and they’ll come around wanting it again. But you will make sure he understands that meals don’t come free,” she said sternly, and I wondered why she sounded more nervous than I was. “Make him understand that you will return to the temple if he doesn’t decide.” Woserit’s gaze flicked across my golden diadem and the lined cloak that was opened to reveal my diaphanous sheath. “I’d be very surprised …”

But her words were cut off by the sound of trumpets and the cheers of the crowd heralding the approaching army.

Above us, on the temple’s steps, Pharaoh Seti and Queen Tuya waited proudly for their son’s return, surrounded by the most important men at court. But of everyone who stood above us, dressed in gold bangles and heavy wigs, Iset appeared the most triumphant. Her five-month belly curved beautifully beneath her cloak, and across her chest a servant had powdered the skin with crushed mother-of-pearl.

By stepping forward and craning my neck with the crowd, I could see the war chariots with their polished wheels and gilded sides. The scent of horses intermingled with incense and roses. As the army approached, the cheers of the crowds reached a feverish pitch, and I felt a pair of hands push me forward. I looked back and saw Aloli’s brazen smile from among the priestesses of Hathor.

“You want him to notice, don’t you?” she demanded.

Merit tugged at my shoulder. “She also wants to avoid being crushed by the chariots.”

At the end of the Avenue I recognized Ramesses’s
khepresh
crown of war. He was sharing a chariot with Asha, and both of them absorbed the adoration of the people. As Asha reined in a pair of sleek black horses, Ramesses searched the crowd, and when he found me, I felt a strange heat under my cloak despite the chill in the wind. Then Pharaoh Seti spread his arms in a gesture of welcome, and Ramesses tore his gaze away from my face. He dismounted at the steps of the temple to bow before his parents, then he slowly withdrew his sword from its sheath. Around us, the cheering grew even more frenzied as Ramesses prepared to give his sword of victory to Iset. To be presented with this is the greatest honor any person can receive. I arranged a smile on my face; then I noticed that Asha was staring in our direction.

“Who is
that?
” Aloli whispered.

“
Asha?
He’s the commander of Ramesses’s charioteers.”

“So why is he staring at us?”

“Probably because he’s never seen anyone like you before.” Aloli was the only priestess of Hathor whose hair outshone Ramesses’s. She wore a heavy turquoise cloak that brought out the vivid blue of her eyes, and the sheath beneath it was spun from a linen so fine it was nearly transparent. When Iset accepted the sword and the ceremony was finished, Aloli stepped forward to make sure that Asha didn’t miss her.

“Don’t bother,” I said as the army made its way to the palace. “Pharaoh Seti calls him Asha the Cautious.”

“Then perhaps what he needs is a woman with spirit.”

I laughed, but Aloli’s voice was earnest. “This will be my first celebration in the palace, and I don’t plan to sleep at all,” she admitted.

Because it was Choiak, it was growing too cool to feast in the courtyard of Malkata. The victory celebration would be held in the warmth of the Great Hall, where cinnamon would burn all night on the braziers and the doors would be shut against the wind. That afternoon, when I entered the chamber, it wasn’t the number of soldiers that surprised me, or that Ramesses’s horses had been brought into the hall and decorated with flowers. It was the long, polished table on the dais, with four thrones in the middle and two dozen chairs around them.

Woserit saw the direction of my gaze, and nodded. “You haven’t been inside the Great Hall since Ramesses changed court tradition. The most important members of the court no longer eat below the dais.”

“They eat on top? In front of everyone? Why?”

“You can’t guess?” she asked. “Iset’s conversation isn’t as interesting as he had hoped. What could he possibly have to talk about with her and his parents, night after night?”

Now he had his viziers and emissaries from foreign kingdoms on the dais. So while the rest of the court ate below, Pharaoh’s closest advisers and friends would be eating on the highest step. Ramesses had not yet taken his throne. I imagined that he was probably in his chamber, changing from his armor to a long kilt and thick cloak. He would probably put on his blue and gold
nemes
crown, since the
khepresh
was tall and burdensome. And then what would he do? My heart raced. Would he speak with me at the table? Or would he have eyes only for his pregnant wife?

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Aloli murmured. I had forgotten that it was her first time in the Great Hall. Harpists played in all corners of the room, and the rich scents of roasted beef and wine filled the warm chamber. Every woman had come attired in her best jewels, and at night, their thick collars of gold would reflect in the light of the oil lamps. In the polished glaze of the tiles I could already see a thousand sandaled feet reflected, walking and dancing and secretly touching under the tables.

As we moved through the crowded hall toward the dais, someone approached from behind a column and touched my shoulder. I turned, and there was Ramesses, dressed in a long linen kilt, trimmed with gold thread and painted with images of charioteers at war. His belt was wide, and beneath the gold pectoral on his chest was a fresh scar where he’d been hurt in battle. I opened my mouth to exclaim about the wound, but Ramesses put a finger to his lips. I glanced at Woserit, who took Aloli’s arm and escorted her toward the dais. Ramesses never stopped looking at me.

“It’s true,” he whispered.

Suddenly, I was aware of how close we were standing, so close I could touch the square of his jaw or the chiseled planes of his face. “What’s true?”

“You are as beautiful as I remembered. Nefer,” he said, and his breath came quickly. “Perhaps you want to simply remain my friend, but when I was gone, all I could think about was you. When I was supposed to be thinking about the rebellion, or how my men would find fresh water in the desert, all I could think of was how you wanted to be hidden away in the Temple of Hathor. Nefer,” he said passionately, “you
can’t
be a priestess.”

I wanted to close my eyes and step into the shelter of his embrace, but beyond the column the entire court was gathering. “But if I’m not to be a priestess,” I asked him, “where will my place be in Thebes?” I held my breath, waiting for the right answer to come, willing it into his heart. Then he took me in his arms and brushed his lips against mine.

“With me,” he said firmly. “As my queen.”

LEAVING BEHIND
the entire court, now feasting in the Great Hall, we headed directly to his chamber, and Ramesses immediately barred the door. His room was neatly kept, and the blue and green tiles of the floor had been polished for his arrival. Cuneiform tablets were stacked on a low table, and a Senet board that could not have been used in many months was ready to be played. He took my hand and led me to the bed, stopping only to whisper, “And you are sure you want me the way I want you?”

I didn’t respond. I simply brushed my lips against his, then kissed him the way I had imagined kissing him all of those nights when he had been gone in Nubia. We fell together on his pillows, and the victory feast might as well have been in another kingdom.

“Nefer.” Ramesses pressed his hands against the bed so that his muscular arms were on either side of my face. I reached up and stroked him the way Aloli had told me I should. He closed his eyes, allowing me to trace my finger along his shaft.

“Let me taste you,” I whispered.

He rolled so that his back was against the pillows, and I began with the inside of his thighs, licking my way up to his chest and the tender flesh around his new scar. He cupped my breasts in his hands, feeling the nipples harden beneath my sheath, and he groaned as I licked my way back down to the hardness between his legs.

“Undress for me,” he begged.

I knelt above him, slowly unfastening the cloak, then my sheath, and finally taking off my wig so that my nakedness was covered only by my hair.

“You are even more beautiful than I thought.” Ramesses sighed. I’m sure that I flushed at being called so. Henuttawy was beautiful. Iset was beautiful. But as I straddled him in the position that Aloli promised would increase fertility, I wondered for the first time if it might be true. His breath was ragged, and as I balanced above him, he thrust his hips forward in his eagerness to be inside of me.

I had dreamed of what it would be like with Ramesses a hundred different times. Yet when the moment came, everything that Aloli had taught me flew out of my head and I knew nothing but the feel of his body against mine, the taste of his skin, and the burning sensation that began as pain and soon became pleasure. When it was done, and Ramesses had spent himself inside of me, I looked down at the linens. I was no longer a virgin.

In the amber light of a setting sun, Ramesses caressed my cheek. Our reverie was only broken when a heavy fist pounded on the door outside of his chamber. He looked at me, and then both of us were rushing to find our clothes.

“Your Majesty,” someone called from without. “The feast has begun and Pharaoh wishes to know where you are!”

“How long has he been knocking?” I exclaimed.

“Probably for a while!” Ramesses laughed, then took me in his arms. “You must move back into your chamber,” he said. “No more of the temple.”