Nefertiti

the new queen is beautiful. The other servants call her Neferet.” The Beautiful Woman.

“And Memphis?” I asked. “Have the servants been told when to prepare for a journey?”

“Oh.” Her dimples flashed. “That’s what you want.” She leaned close to me, her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. She was a beautiful woman, full of curves and faience beads with glittery malachite eyelids. “Queen Tiye ordered three new litters today, and the Master of the Horse said that six new horses have already been purchased.”

I sat back. “When will they be ready?”

“In six days.”

The next day, I was summoned to the Audience Chamber early, before it grew crowded with the courtiers who would come to hear of Amunhotep’s departure for Memphis. As I entered the double doors, my eyes were drawn first to the forest of closed papyrus-bud columns that culminated at a raised and painted dais. As I approached the golden thrones, the closed buds atop the columns slowly opened until the last two were carved into fully painted blooms—symbolic, I supposed, of Pharaoh opening his arms to embrace all of Egypt.

Beneath the dais, where my aunt and father were sitting, were images of bound captives, Hittites and Nubians, so that whenever Pharaoh ascended to his throne he would trod his enemies underfoot. The Audience Chamber was empty except for the three of us, and my father sat with his sister on an ebony bench with papyrus scrolls spread out before them.

“Your Majesty.” I bowed. “Father.”

Queen Tiye didn’t wait for me to sit. “Your sister has moved into my son’s private chambers.” Her face was inscrutable, and I was careful with my reply.

“Yes. She has entranced the new king, Your Majesty.”

“She has entranced the entire palace,” Queen Tiye corrected. “She’s all the servants will talk about.”

I thought of Ipu calling my sister Neferet, and of what General Nakhtmin had said. “She is bold, Your Highness, but she is very loyal.”

Queen Tiye studied me. “Loyal, but to who?”

My father cleared his throat. “We want to know what was said at breakfast this morning.”

I realized what was happening and saw that I was being used as a spy. I shifted uncomfortably and replied, “They never ate breakfast. The servants arranged trays of food in the anteroom, and after I ate, the food was sent away.”

“What did they do, then?” the queen demanded.

I hesitated, and my father said sternly, “It is important for us to know these things, Mutnodjmet. Either we find out or someone else will.”

Someone like Panahesi. “They made plans for building temples to Aten,” I told them.

Ay asked quickly, “Drawings?”

I nodded.

He turned to his sister and said hurriedly, “Amunhotep can do nothing until the Elder dies. He has neither the gold nor the resources for temple building. It’s just talk—”

“Dangerous talk!” she flared up. “Talk that will continue until he becomes Pharaoh of Upper Egypt.”

“By then he will understand that it is not so easy to rule without the support of the priests. He won’t even be able raise an army without their gold. No Pharaoh can rule on his own.”

“My son thinks he can. He thinks he will defy the gods and raise Aten above all of them, even Osiris. Even Ra. Your daughter was supposed to change this—”

“She will—”

“She is too wild and ambitious!” the queen shouted. She walked out onto the balcony and wrapped her fingers around the railing. “Perhaps I chose the wrong daughter as Chief Wife,” she said.

My father looked over his shoulder to where I sat, but I couldn’t read his expression. “Send him to Memphis,” my father encouraged. “There he will see that it is not so easy to interfere with Ma’at.”

In the Audience Chamber that noon, the queen announced our departure to Memphis. We were to leave on the twenty-eighth of Pharmuthi. We had five days to prepare.

Chapter Six

twenty-fourth of Pharmuthi

THIS TIME, WHEN we went to watch Amunhotep ride in the Arena, he gathered us in the stables and asked Nefertiti which horse she liked best. Kiya would have batted her lashes and answered that she liked the horse with the most beautiful mane. But Nefertiti observed their width and breadth, the strength of their muscles beneath their coat and the fire in their eyes, then replied in a firm voice, “The dark one. The chestnut champing at the gates.”

Amunhotep nodded. “Bring out the chestnut!”

Kiya turned to the three ladies who were always with her, tall women who towered over my sister, and one of them said loudly so my family would overhear, “Next thing he’ll be letting her pick out his kilts.” They all snickered, but Nefertiti walked purposefully to where Amunhotep was standing near Panahesi and my father, and watched him fasten his leather gauntlets. “Have you always ridden?” Nefertiti asked.

Panahesi snapped, “Since the Pharaoh was a boy in Memphis.”

Nefertiti looked to where a group of men were waiting, the sons of other viziers who practiced with the king. Amunhotep saw the direction of her gaze and added firmly, “Those men don’t lose to me every morning because they have to. I can outride any soldier in my father’s army.”

Nefertiti stepped closer. “And you say you have done this since you were a child?”

Amunhotep strapped on his helmet and replied, “I rode the chariot as soon as I learned to walk.”

“And what if I wanted to learn?” she asked him.

Across the stables Kiya retorted sharply, “Women don’t ride in the Arena.”

“I rode in Akhmim,” Nefertiti announced. I glanced at my father, whose face was reserved. He said nothing, and Nefertiti took a helmet from the nearby shelf and placed it brazenly on her head. “I want you to teach me.”

Amunhotep paused to measure the seriousness of her statement.

She added brilliantly, “I want to feel the exhilaration of riding with Egypt’s finest steeds. I want to learn from the greatest rider in Egypt.”

Amunhotep laughed. “Bring out the Master of the Horse!” he cried, and Panahesi and Kiya flew into action.

“She’ll be killed!” Panahesi cried. Of course, his real objection was that his daughter hadn’t been smart enough or quick enough to suggest it for herself. Now the Arena would be full of Nefertiti. Not even our father had thought of this, but it was perfect, really. An exquisite move. If she could sink her claws in Amunhotep’s chamber, his politics, and now his pastime, where wouldn’t they be united?

“But Your Highness—” Panahesi said.

Amunhotep turned and his look was dark. “Nothing more, Vizier. My queen wants to ride, and I will teach her.”

In the wooden tiers beneath a linen shade, we watched them ride, and Kiya hissed to me, “What does she think she’s doing?”

I looked down at my sister, laughing and radiant, tossing her long hair back in the sun. Amunhotep laughed with her, and I replied, “She’s entertaining the king. What else now that her tutor is gone?”