The Egyptian Royals Collection (80 page)

WHEN RAMESSES
and I emerged from his chamber the next morning, we walked together to the lakeside, and the cheers from the courtiers who were waiting for our arrival must have reached the ears of the gods themselves. Ramesses took my hand in his, and the viziers of Seti’s court surrounded us, talking and smiling as though they had supported my marriage all along. Although Iset had claimed an indisposition and remained inside Malkata, the rest of the court was in attendance. Even Queen Tuya spared a smile for me. Her
iwiw
bared his fangs, and a low growl rumbled in his skinny throat.

“Hello, Adjo,” I said cheerfully.

I smiled at the thought that I might never have to see him again. Tonight, there would be a feast of both celebration and farewell, and tomorrow Pharaoh Seti would sail with his half of the royal court to the palace in Avaris. Ramesses had been fully trained in the Audience Chamber; now he would rule Upper Egypt on his own. His father, in his advancing age, would reign in the capital of Lower Egypt, where less would be required of him. This move had been planned for many years, yet even though Ramesses had always known it was coming, I saw his lips turn down in sorrow when he gazed across the lake. The eastern horizon was obscured by his father’s towering ships. They floated like pregnant herons on the water, their decks filled with some of the most valuable treasures in Thebes: ebony statues and granite tables, rare sedan chairs with wide lion’s-paw feet. While some kings were content to remain in the same city as their coregents, governing from the very same Audience Chamber, Pharaoh Seti now wanted a simpler life. Once he reached Avaris, there would not be so many petitioners, and in his summer palace closer to the sea, there would never be the kind of heat that sucked the life from the air as it did nearly every month in Thebes.

The court had assembled itself on the quay, while a small golden vessel was rowed to the shore. It would fit only three people: myself, Merit, and a ferryman. Once Pharaoh Seti gave his permission, we would be rowed the short distance to the Temple of Karnak. Behind us, Ramesses would sail in his own golden bark, accompanied by his parents and rowed by a single soldier from Pharaoh’s army: Asha. Behind them the court would follow in a flotilla of brightly painted boats. When I asked Merit once why a Pharaoh’s marriage begins on the water instead of the land, she told me that it was because Egypt had been born from the Watery Waste of Nun, and if such a fertile land could be birthed from the water, a fertile marriage would as well.

I stood on the quayside, separated from Ramesses by hundreds of courtiers in their whitest linens and finest gold, waiting for Pharaoh Seti to give his blessing. When the piercing sounds of several trumpets blared, Pharaoh Seti said something I couldn’t hear. But he must have given his blessing to set sail, for Merit took my arm and led me to the boat, helping me inside and arranging my cloak so that it fanned out around my legs like a lotus blossom. She seated herself next to me, as straight and serious as Paser. When I opened my mouth to speak, she shook her head firmly. I was meant to be a silent bride, timorously approaching my fate, even though inside my heart was soaring. I knew that I shouldn’t turn around. I didn’t want to appear like a goose craning its neck to see what was happening in every direction, so I looked ahead as our boat left the lake in front of the palace, and entered the main current of the River Nile itself. Thousands of people stood on the banks, crushed together to see the spectacle of the court sailing beneath Pharaoh’s golden pennants. They had chanted eagerly for Iset when she had been married, yet now there was silence.

I glanced at Merit, and she returned my uneasy gaze. It was as if someone had taken a heavy sheet of linen and draped it across the people on the shore. Only the muffled sound of children crying reached us on the river, and Merit turned her sharp eyes on the ferryman.

“What is the talk in Thebes?” she demanded.

“In Thebes?” he repeated.

“Yes! What are they saying about her? She already knows she’s the Heretic’s niece. There’s nothing you can say that will shock her. Just tell us the truth so we can be prepared.”

The man looked at me, and his face was sorrowful. “Since Pharaoh Ramesses announced his intention to marry the princess yesterday, my lady, there is talk that she may be the reason for the famine all of these years.” The ferryman’s voice shook. “They think she has brought bad luck to the city. Her
akhu
angered the gods so deeply that once Pharaoh makes her his wife, they will turn away from Egypt completely. I’m sorry, Princess.”

I held on to the sides of the boat so that my sudden dizziness would not overwhelm me, and I looked ahead at the unwelcoming faces of the people on the riverbank. Their silence was terrifying. What were they waiting for? That Ramesses might change his mind?

When we reached the quay in front of the temple, a young priest reached down to help me up. A crowd of priestesses circled around us, chanting and shaking their long bronze sistrums. They led us through the gates of Karnak, and we followed their loud jangling to the inner sanctum, where I ascended the dais and waited for Ramesses. When he arrived, his eyes met mine. Then all I could see was the High Priest in front of me. He took a vessel of oil from the altar, and as he raised it above my head he intoned, “In the name of Amun, Princess Nefertari, daughter of Queen Mutnodjmet and General Nakhtmin, is bound together with Pharaoh Ramesses.”

I stole a glance at the throngs of courtiers who filled the inner sanctum. The High Priest approached Ramesses. “In the name of Amun, Pharaoh Ramesses, son of Pharaoh Seti and Queen Tuya, is bound together with Princess Nefertari.”

Ramesses held his breath as the oil poured over his
nemes
crown. There was one symbolic gesture left to make. Rahotep produced a golden ring from his robes. Ramesses slipped the band on to my fourth finger, since a vein travels from this finger to the heart. Now, I wore two rings. One bore the insignia of my family, the other bore Ramesses’s name in hieroglyphics. Ramesses’s ring was gold with an ebony stone, and by placing it on my finger, he had “captured” my heart. Like a
shen,
a design with no beginning and no end, we were joined for eternity. The High Priest announced, “United and blessed before Amun.”

Ramesses held my hand above the cheering courtiers of the inner sanctum, who would have forced themselves to look happy even if he’d been marrying his mother’s
iwiw.
“Are you ready?” he asked. We would walk from the temple through the city, then sail from the quay in front of the marketplace. Only newly crowned royalty made such a walk. When I nodded, he took my hand firmly in his and pressed forward.

The noise of the procession grew deafening. The priestesses of Isis were playing their tambourines and Hathor’s women were singing as we passed through the magnificent halls of Karnak into the city. Thousands of people filled the streets, but I saw with a rising sense of alarm that only a handful of them waved palm branches or cheered. We passed through the marketplace, and the noise of our procession made an awkward contrast to the continuing silence of the people. Ramesses raised his hand in mine and shouted jubilantly, “Princess Nefertari!”

Behind us, the court echoed his cry, but in the streets the old women watched me with their arms across their breasts. At the end of the market an old woman shouted, “Another Heretic Queen!” and then the people of the marketplace began to chant.

“HER-E-TIC. HER-E-TIC.”

“Stop them!” Ramesses shouted angrily. His guards formed a tighter circle around us, but the people’s chanting was quickly building to a feverish pitch. Even children, who didn’t know what they were shouting, squinted into my face and yelled, “Another Heretic Queen!”

The songs of the priestesses grew louder to drown out the people’s chants, but soon it became impossible. Ramesses might have ordered violence on the surging mob. But there were old women and children, so instead he called, “Get back to the boats!”

ONCE WE
had cast off from the quay, Ramesses took me in his arms, soothing me while I shook. The faces of the women were terrible to see. Many of the young girls were weeping into their hands. Henuttawy asked, “Have you
ever
seen anything like that?”

Queen Tuya used a linen to dab her eyes, and a sob escaped from her lips.

I looked up into Ramesses’s face, and I was the one who spoke the embarrassing truth first. “You won’t be able to make me queen.”

“They’ll change their minds,” he vowed. “Once they know you …” But he looked at his father, and entire conversations were conveyed in that glance.

“Let us proceed to the feast,” Woserit announced. “This is still a celebration.” But her good cheer rang hollow, and the courtiers who sailed with us did so in silence.

In the Great Hall, the cheerful laughter of the servants and the comforting crackle of the fires contrasted with the mood of the court. The rich smell of wine and roasted duck filled the chamber, and musicians began to play as we appeared. Pharaoh Seti ascended the dais as if nothing had happened, and I took my place next to Ramesses at the table. Because the court knew its purpose, there was suddenly merrymaking and dance. Even the young girls had dried their eyes and repainted their cheeks, now that the scare was over.

Pharaoh Seti took my hand. “There is nothing you could have done differently,” he said. “They don’t know that you are as much my daughter as Ramesses is my son.”

I lowered my head in shame. It was Seti’s final day of rule in the palace, and instead of leaving Thebes in triumph, he would depart wondering if the next time he returned it might be to rebellion. Then I noticed that while others were taking their seats, our table on the dais remained empty. “Where are Woserit and Henuttawy?” I asked.

Ramesses followed my gaze. “And where are the viziers?” He stood from his throne and appealed to his father. “They are meeting without us!”

Pharaoh Seti shook his head. “Tomorrow, this will become your city,” he challenged. “What will you do?”

Ramesses pulled me with him, and we rushed down the dais, crossing the Great Hall as courtiers scrambled to move out of our way. Ramesses flung open the doors to the Audience Chamber. Inside, the conversation immediately stopped. At the base of the dais, Asha was standing with his father. The viziers and generals of Egypt were present, and so were Woserit and Henuttawy. Woserit passed me a warning look.

“What is this?” Ramesses demanded.

“Your Highness,” Rahotep began, “I think you know why we are meeting here.”

“Behind my back?” Ramesses challenged, and glared at Asha.

“The people,” Henuttawy spoke sharply, “are against Nefertari, as I warned you—”

“And who rules this kingdom?” Ramesses asked angrily. “The people, or me?”

“Did the people rise against Iset when you married her?” Henuttawy spoke swiftly. “Did they shout
Heretic Queen
in the streets?”

“Iset wasn’t taken through the city,” Woserit rejoined. “In fact, I believe that idea was yours.”

Henuttawy turned on her sister, and it was like watching a lioness attack one of its own pride. “Are you saying I planned this?”

“I don’t know,” Woserit said calmly. “How many temple offerings would you need to sell in order to buy the people?”

Paser stepped forward. “Give the people time. They haven’t seen the princess in the Audience Chamber. She is wise and just.”

Henuttawy smiled sweetly, and I knew that something vicious was coming. “Vizier Paser is willing to say and do whatever pleases my sister,” she said bitterly. “Listen to reason!”