Tiy and the Prince of Egypt (5 page)

They entered the city of Memphis just as the sun melted from flame to desert sand, the golden rooftops of the temples glinting in the dying light. The palace stood high with dozens of balconies overlooking the great city. A pair of obelisks pointed to the sky from the center of the palace entrance, inscriptions covering all four sides. Gleaming white walls bordered the palace complex, easily four times the height of an average man. Hundreds of palm trees stretched up from the garden oasis around the palace, flaunting their leafy protection to the tired desert travelers.

The barge glided
to a platform at the edge of the stone quay where a long walkway spread like a silver ribbon. Several sets of steps branched from the water to the walkway above where merchants and craftsman unloaded their goods into the sprawling marketplace.

Tiy
exited the barge behind Siese and Bek and climbed the six stairs to ground level. Men women, children, soldiers, and merchants scurried along packed streets, winding between tall buildings of limestone and mud, and cutting through narrow alleys.

Nebetya nudged
Tiy and nodded toward their travel chests. Their personal things had been attached to two long poles of bamboo that were carried on the shoulders of the oarsmen. Siese nodded for them to follow him and Tiy quickened her step to stay close by.

They
pressed through throngs of people, trying to make their way toward the first pylon entrance to the temple grounds. She caught snippets of chatter and gossip among friends and resisted the urge to turn her ear toward them. She couldn’t afford to take her attention away from Siese’s retreating form. Given his height and general stature, he moved through the crowd with greater ease. Her short, small frame, on the other hand, gave the throng less reason to step out of the way.

They
passed narrow houses two or three stories tall with flat roofs and high windows to release the heat. Several families perched atop their roofs, watching the people pass below as they sipped drinks under canopies of silk. The scent of lotus and jasmine drifted from the windows and swirled into Tiy’s willing nostrils. She sucked in the heavenly aromas, welcoming it as it covered the market smells of body odor and fish. Enraptured by the sights and smells surrounding her, she didn’t notice the heavy merchant until she stumbled into him.

“
Humph!” the merchant grunted as she bounced off his portly belly.

“Forgive me
,” Tiy said in a rush. She scrambled to her feet before the bustling crowd could trample her.

“You have dirtied
my cloak you filthy wench!”

Tiy
glanced at his attire and noticed a slight smudge on his chest. She doubted anyone would notice it, but she knew how unfashionable it was to wear anything less than the whitest and cleanest linens.

“Please forgive me,”
she said as she glanced around for Siese. But she couldn’t see him anywhere, nor could she see anyone else from the barge. Did any of them care that she wasn’t with them any longer?

The merchant
grabbed her upper arm and twisted her toward him, his angry face seething with disgust. She winced and squeezed her eyes shut, turning her face away from the sharp smell of wine on his breath. The merchant grunted again and she opened her eyes to see Siese suddenly towering over them.

“Release the girl,”
Siese said, his voice low and steady.

“
She has dirtied my tunic! I expect payment.”

“This
lady
is Tiy, daughter of Yuya and Tuya of Akhmim, Officials to the Crown.”

The merchant
dropped her arm like it had burned him and flashed his gaze to those in the crowd who had stopped to watch. He turned his attention back to her, his eyes narrowing.

“Impossible
. She is
foreign
.” He spat the last word as if it were a foul taste in his mouth.

He
reached to yank the wig from her head, and Tiy thrust her hands up, fast enough to prevent him from pulling it off, but not before the yellow hair above her brow had been exposed.

A co
llective gasp came from the growing crowd.

“You see,” the
merchant said with disgust. “She is nothing but an imposter! An abomination! This foreign filth has spread her grime onto me!”

“You have gone too far, old man,” Siese said with impatience
. He pulled a dagger from his waist and slashed through the merchant’s tunic. “The lady you have assaulted is the Desert Guardian to his Highness, Prince Amenhotep. You will pay for your disrespect.”

The
merchant jerked his gaze up from his slashed tunic, his eyes wide with unbelief and fear. “Forgive me,” he said, his words pouring from his mouth. “I had no idea she was the one who saved Prince Amenhotep.”

Siese nodded toward
a guard to collect the merchant and, without another word, turned once again toward the temple complex, leaving Tiy breathless and flustered. She fumbled behind him, trying to understand how her brief encounter with Amenhotep could have already become common knowledge. And what was it he called her? The Desert Guardian? She wondered what it meant.

Siese
led her to a courtyard within the palace compound and pointed past the small pool with lotus blossoms floating along the edges. “Your chambers are through that door. This courtyard is only three courtyards from the center of the palace.”

Bek’s upper lip raised in a sneer.
Siese placed his hand on Bek’s shoulder and shook his head. Bek looked away.

“Is there something wrong with my chambers?” Tiy asked, confused by their silent exchange.

“No, no, of course not.” Siese said. He chuckled and slapped his hand twice on Bek’s back. “Bek is just jealous because we are eight courtyards from the center.”

“She doesn’t deserve this.” Bek said through his teeth.

“Hush now Bek, what do you know of royal politics?”

Nebetya cleared her throat. “What is in the center?”

Siese stood a little straighter, his chest puffed in pride. “Pharaoh, his chief wife, and Prince Amenhotep reside in the center. For your young lady to be so close, is a very high honor.”

Bek spit into a nearby vase
, and Siese chuckled again. “Sometimes, Bek, I fear you would do better in a vocation that would allow you to release these strong emotions you seem incapable of repressing.” He slapped Bek on the back again, and the two of them left the courtyard.

Tiy
strolled toward the pool and sat at its edge. Flicking a lotus bloom with her finger, she watched it skitter across the water and bump into the next lotus. The two rocked back and forth until their petals took on too much water and sank. She sighed. How many Egyptians would she collide with before she sunk? Both the merchant and Bek seemed determined to make it happen.

Nebetya sat next to her and pul
led the blooms out of the pool. She shook off the water and set them afloat again. “Don’t let people like Bek bother you, my lady. He is too blinded by his own stupidity to see what a deserving person you are.”

Tiy laughed despite herself. “He
is
rather stupid.”

“He calls himself a sailor
, and yet he didn’t even notice the sails were bottom heavy. Siese is right, he needs a new vocation.”

“Siese didn’t notice either.”

“Well, Siese had a headache, didn’t he? I know I can’t think straight when my head is pounding.”

Tiy nodded. “
Siese doesn’t seem to think it is wrong for someone like me to be here.”

“Don’t worry, my lady. There will be more like Siese. Not everyone will think like Bek.”

“Or the merchant,” Tiy added with a frown.

Nebetya rubbed
Tiy’s back. “Or the merchant,” she whispered.

A pair of lady servants took
Nebetya to the servants’ chambers and Tiy eventually wandered to her own chambers. The stone walls were covered with paintings of Nile reeds and lilies. Ebony furniture brought from the south was carved with exquisite Egyptian details, enhanced by inlays of gold. She sat on the edge of the bed with its raised reed mat and thick feather cushion, letting her gaze wander around the room. She felt like a princess in a palace filled with waiting adventures and hidden secrets. A princess who would never belong.

Tiy wore her finest kalasiris, its finely woven linen sweeping across her ankles like butterfly wings. Her fingers trembled as she tried to clasp a gold necklace around her neck. As one of her larger pieces of jewelry, it draped to her shoulders and fanned across her chest. She wore it for good luck or when she was nervous.

Like today.

Today was the first day of school. She didn’t know what to expect and was afraid she would be a complete outcast. Amenhotep would be there and, given their last encounter, she hoped he would befriend her even if no one else would. But then again, perhaps she misunderstood what happened between them. Maybe she read too much into their light-hearted moment. Maybe she had been fooling herself all along that they could be friends. He was royalty, after all. Who was she? A country girl. And a foreign one at that.

She
felt sick to her stomach.

Nebetya
reached forward to take the gold necklace. “Let me help you, my lady,” she said. “It is why I came, is it not?”

Tiy
nodded in quick, jerky motions. Perhaps she wasn’t as calm and collected as she thought. She chanted words of encouragement in her mind, a lecture of sorts that she often gave herself in difficult situations.

Nebetya smiled as she
rimmed Tiy’s eyes with black kohl. Tiy had gotten accustomed to not wearing any cosmetics while at her country villa, but here in the center of the universe, it would be a severe social mistake not to. She looked in the mirror, smiling at the way the kohl made her eyes appear larger, more luminous. And more Egyptian.

Nebetya
swept her hands across Tiy’s face and dabbed a few drops of perfumed oils onto her neck. The air around them filled with jasmine and lavender and Tiy closed her eyes to breathe in the calming aroma. She stood as Nebetya wrapped blue leather around her waist and added silver bangles to her wrists and ankles.

“You look beautiful,” Nebetya
said.

“It doesn’t matter
. They won’t like me anyway.”

“
You don’t know that. What isn’t there to like? Besides, once they get to know you, they’ll see what a good friend you are.”

Tiy
smiled. “Thanks, Nebetya. I’m glad you came.”

Nebetya
, of course, broke into tears. She squeezed Tiy’s arm and mustered a smile. “Me too,” she said in a croak.

Tiy laughed and
ran her fingers once more through her favorite wig. It was long and voluminous, much like the one she had lost in the desert, but this one had cobalt blue glass in the shape of birds dangling from the brow. They twinkled in the light and clinked together like a song as she walked. It made her feel feminine and lovely, giving her the added confidence she needed.

Tiy
slipped into her copper-studded sandals and brushed a hand across her pleated kalasiris. There was nothing left to be done; she had no more reason to stay within the security of her chambers.

“Have a good day, Nebetya,” Tiy said. She curled her lips
into a mischievous grin. “Please try to control yourself among the servants. I don’t want you to frighten them when they realize every bat of your eyelashes comes with a steady stream of tears.”

Nebetya laughed and wiped her face with her hands. “I don’t know what you mean. You have a good day too, my lady.” She gave Tiy a quick hug and burst into fresh tears.

Tiy smiled and began the long walk toward the palace schoolroom. As she neared the end of the last corridor, the chatter of children filled the air. Tall, gilded doors were opened wide to welcome the students into a vibrantly painted room. Colorful walls depicted a garden full of life and carefree birds, vines and flowers, grapes and palms. The floor resembled the Nile waters with teeming fish and lotus flowers.

Tiy
loved it. She had never seen anything so enchanting and awe-inspiring. If only the whole palace could be painted in such a manner, she would always be filled with hope and laughter. It was such a magical room and made her feel as though anything were possible.

There were about forty children ranging from
ages four to sixteen playing and talking in small groups. She glanced over the groups, searching for the students around her age, the magic of the room giving her the confidence she needed to introduce herself. She began moving toward a group of girls when the instructor stood at the front of the room with his arms folded across his chest. He had a look on his face that said talking would no longer be permitted. His eyes narrowed at the disruptive children as they bounced around the room.

Tiy
moved to stand at his side, waiting to be acknowledged and told where to go. He clapped his hands up high near his head and the children quieted, sitting on the floor with crossed legs. The instructor appeared pleased with the sudden order and warmth emanated from his countenance. His eyes sparkled, and when he spoke, his voice was like baked bread—soft and soothing, yet firm and substantial.

“I am Menkheper,” he said to
her before he turned to the class. “We have a new student today. She is Tiy, daughter of Yuya, Superintendent of Cattle, and Tuya, Singer of Hathor. She has come all the way from Akhmim. Please welcome her.”

A chorus of voices rang out
. “Welcome, Tiy.”

Tiy
searched their faces. None of them were Amenhotep. Unable to deny the deep disappointment she felt, she pressed her lips together to hide her frown. She hated that she let herself have so much hope for his friendship.

A small boy in the front
of the class raised his hand.

“Yes Anpu?”
Menkheper said.

“Is she
Prince Amenhotep’s Desert Guardian?”

Tiy
blushed and shifted from one foot to the other. There was that phrase again. The instructor glanced at her and gave her an apologetic smile.

“Yes,” he said, “she is the very one
. However, let us wait until she gets to know all of us a little better before we ask her to share her experience.”

Several sho
ulders slumped in disappointment, and Tiy breathed a sigh of relief. How was she supposed to explain that she was just a regular girl and not some guardian?

“You may have a seat in the back,” Menkheper said.

Tiy nodded and took a seat on the floor. Reed pens and black ink were passed out, along with white, polished limestone pallets. The older students appeared bored as they practiced the hieroglyphs Menkheper dictated. Several tutors assisted the younger children while the older students were left to their own devices. Tiy scribbled furiously trying to keep up, her script coming out sloppy and incorrect more often than not. She was the best pupil in her class at home, but she realized quickly that she would have to work very hard to catch up to the other students her age.

Just
when Tiy feared her hand would cramp and fall off, Menkheper called for a short break. She dropped her reed pen and shook her hand to relieve the stiffness. A girl a few years older than her turned around and smiled, her whole face lighting up. Tiy dropped her hands onto her lap.

“I am
Petepihu,” the girl said. “You can call me Petep. I’m Amenhotep’s sister. I believe you know him.” She winked an eye. There was no hunger for fantastical tales in Petep’s smile, only genuine interest and warmth. Tiy breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps the schoolroom would help her make friends, after all.

“Hi
Petep,” Tiy said. “I’m so happy to be here.”

“And we are glad to have you
. Thank you for saving my brother. My father has already lost a son, and losing another would have caused him too much pain.”

“I did what anyone would have done.”
Tiy said. She paused and looked at her clasped hands. “Where is Prince Amenhotep?”

Petep
opened her mouth to answer, but another girl flipped her head around like a viper, her braided wig swinging wildly around her face.

“You think that
just because you saved him you have some kind of claim on him?” the girl said.

“
Kepi,” Petep warned.

Kepi
ignored Petep and continued her attack. “You think that just because you did something any one of us would have done that you should have special rights and privileges? You don’t belong here, country girl. You don’t even
look
like you belong here.”

The magic of the room disappeared
.

Several
heads turned in their direction, wanting to watch the drama unfold. Tiy’s hands turned to ice, her tongue numb. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words caught in her throat.

Kepi
smirked and flicked her hair with her hand, turning around to laugh with the girls surrounding her. She reached up to flick her hair again and the bangles on her wrists clinked against one another. She had more gold on her arms than everyone in the room combined.

“Don’t pay any attention to her,”
Petep said.

How could
she not pay any attention to her? She was mean and kept glaring back at her before whispering something to her friends. But even if she weren’t so mean, it would still be difficult not to notice her. She was probably the prettiest girl Tiy had ever seen. Her kalasiris was made of the thinnest, most expensive weave, yet Tiy had a feeling she could make even a rough burlap sack look like an exotic work of art.

“
She didn’t used to be this way,” Petep whispered.

Tiy caught Kepi’s glance and thought she saw something flash in her eyes, something that looked a lot like the expression
she saw in her mother’s eyes when her father had once threatened to throw an old jar into the river. She couldn’t remember the reason why her father threatened to do such a thing, or why her mother cared so much, she only remembered the terror in her mother’s eyes, the helplessness of losing something precious. Kepi blinked and her eyes turned back to stone.

Tiy leaned toward
Petep. “What happened?” she whispered.

Petep
’s eyes saddened. “Before my brother, the eldest, passed on to the Afterlife. She was to be his bride, the next Queen of Egypt.”

“Is she to marry Amenhotep now?” Tiy asked
. Something flickered in her chest, a pinch of unease she couldn’t explain.

Petep
shrugged.

Tiy glanced at Kepi again
. She couldn’t decide if she should feel pity or contempt. How could she despise a girl who lost her entire future before it had ever begun? Then again, how could she feel any kindness toward a girl who behaved so venomously?

Kepi
glanced back at Tiy and squinted before flashing a hand gesture that Tiy had seen only the roughest of boys use. And then she glanced at Menkheper—who hadn’t noticed her rude gesture—and smirked.

Tiy smirked back, for no other reason than to make Kepi think she hadn’t
been bothered in the slightest. And to make herself feel better, at least a little.

“
Just ignore her,” Petep said.

“
I will,” Tiy said in a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep. Kepi was the sort of person who couldn’t be ignored.

“She just thinks she can do whatever she wants because she is Head of Class.”

Tiy raised an eyebrow.

“She has earned the
best marks for her class work,” Petep explained.

Tiy nodded. Not only was Kepi beautiful, rich, and had the devotion of most the class, but she was smart too. It didn’t seem fair.

“Amenhotep has not yet returned from Nubia,” Petep whispered. “The war is going well, I hear, so he and my father should return soon. In fact, they may be on their way home now. Those wretched Nubians won’t put up much of a fight. Pharaoh’s army will crush them.”

Tiy’s
eyes widened at the forceful words coming from such a delicate mouth. Petep ducked her head and smiled.

“At least that is what
my brother said,” she clarified with a nervous giggle. “I don’t know much about politics.”

Menkheper stood
again and the class hushed as he began a lesson in arithmetic. Tiy raised her reed pen and set to work solving the mathematic passages. She was still behind the classmates close to her age, but she was closer to reaching their level in arithmetic than she was in writing. Practice was all she needed to catch up, she decided, so she wasn’t too worried. She could be very disciplined when she wanted to be, and she wanted nothing more than to knock Kepi off her “Head of Class” throne.