Nefertiti

Amunhotep glanced quickly at Nefertiti. “I have not forgotten my first wife,” he said. “I will come to her again…when we are in Memphis.” He looked across the fire at Kiya, who was feigning ignorance about what her father had just said. She smiled lovingly at him. Little minx, I thought. She knows exactly what her father’s doing.

“Shall we walk along the beach?” Nefertiti said at once, grabbing my arm and whisking me up.

I held my breath as we walked away; I thought my sister would be enraged. But as we pressed our feet along the wet banks of the Nile, trailed by two guards, her spirits were high. She looked up at the wide expanse of stars and breathed in the fresh air. “The reign of Kiya in Amunhotep’s heart is over. He’s not going to visit her again until we reach Memphis.”

“That’s not so long,” I pointed out.

“But I’m the one designing his temple with him. I’m the one who’ll reign at his side. Not her. And soon I’ll be with his child.”

I glanced at her sideways. “You’re pregnant?”

Her face fell. “No, not yet.”

“Have you taken the honey?”

“Even better.” She laughed as if she were intoxicated. “My servants found mandrake.”

“And they made the juice?” It was a difficult process. I’d only seen Ranofer do it once.

“Yes. I took it last night. And now it could happen at any time.”

At any time. My sister, pregnant with the heir to Egypt’s throne. I stared at her in the silver light and frowned. “But aren’t you ever afraid of his plans?”

“Of course not. Why should I be afraid?”

“Because the priests could rise against you! They are powerful, Nefertiti. What if they should try assassination?”

“Without the army, how could they? The army is on our side. We have Horemheb.”

“But what if the people never forgive you? It’s their gold. It’s their silver.”

“And we’ll be freeing it from the stranglehold of the Amun priests. We will give back to the people what the priests have taken.”

My voice sounded cynical even in my own ears. “How?”

Nefertiti looked out over the waters. “Through Aten.”

“A god only you understand.”

“A god all of Egypt will come to know.”

“Because that god is really Amunhotep?”

She shot me a look, but she didn’t reply.

The next morning, the sailors were slow to start. They had taken too much wine, so by orders of Amunhotep no one was to be allowed onshore again. My mother and father said nothing, exercising their cramped legs on the deck, but three nights later word spread between the ships that six of Horemheb’s men had died. The servants whispered that their deaths had been caused by tainted water and food.

“What does Pharaoh expect?” a vizier hissed at my father. “If we’re not allowed onshore to find fresh water regularly, then men are going to die.” Dysentery, someone called it, an ailment that could have been cured by any local physician had the men simply been allowed to go onshore.

Two nights later, news came that eleven more men had died. Then the general disobeyed Amunhotep’s orders. In the evening, he stalked to the royal barge at the front of the fleet and came on board our ship, demanding an audience with the king at once.

We looked up from our Senet games and my father stood swiftly. “I do not know if he will see you, General.”

Horemheb would not be turned away. “More men are dying and the dysentery is spreading.”

My father hesitated. “I will see what I can do.” He disappeared into the cabin. When he returned, he shook his head grimly. “The Pharaoh will see no one.”

“These are men,” Horemheb said between clenched teeth. “These are men who need help. A physician is all that they need. Will he sacrifice men to arrive sooner in Memphis?”

“Yes.” The door to the innermost cabin opened and Amunhotep appeared in his kilt and nemes crown. “Pharaoh does not change his mind.” He strode forward. “You have heard my decision!” he shouted.

Real danger flashed from Horemheb’s eyes. I thought he might slit Amunhotep’s throat with one slip of his dagger. Then Horemheb remembered his place and moved toward the door.

“Wait!” I cried, surprising myself. The general stopped. “I have mint and basil. It may cure your men, and we wouldn’t have to go ashore for a physician.”

Amunhotep tensed, but Nefertiti appeared in the cabin door behind him. “Let her go,” she urged.

“I could use a cloak,” I said quickly. “No one would even know I was gone.” I looked to Amunhotep. “Then the people would think your orders have been obeyed and the lives of your soldiers would be spared.”

“She studied herbs in Akhmim,” Nefertiti explained. “She might be able to cure them. And what if the dysentery should spread?”

General Horemheb looked to Pharaoh for his decision.

Pharaoh raised his chin, feigning an air of munificence. “The Sister of the King’s Chief Wife may go.”

My mother’s face was disapproving, my father’s eyes unreadable. But these were men’s lives. To let them die when we could save them would go against all the laws of Ma’at. What would the gods think if on our way to Memphis, to the start of a new reign, we let innocent men die? I ran to my pallet and collected my herb box. Then I threw on a cloak and in the shadow of darkness followed Horemheb onto the deck. Outside, the wind of the Nile rustled my cloak. I was nervous. I wished I could bend in quick obeisance to Bast, the god of travel, for safe journey. But I followed the general in front of me, who said nothing. We boarded the vessel, where the men were suffering and the stench of sickness was overwhelming. I put my cloak to my nose.

“A squeamish healer?” the general asked, and I dropped the cloak in defiance. He led me into his own cabin. “What do you need?”

“Hot water and bowls. We can soak the mint and basil and make it into tea.”

He disappeared to collect what I needed and I studied his chamber. The cabin was smaller than the one that Pharaoh and Nefertiti were sharing and nothing hung on the walls, even though we had been on the river for almost twenty days. His pallet was neat and folded, and four armless chairs were arranged around a Senet board. I looked at the pieces. Whoever had been black had won the last game. I guessed it was Horemheb or he wouldn’t have let the pieces remain.

“The water is heating,” he said when he returned. He didn’t offer me a seat. I remained standing.

“You play Senet,” I remarked.

He nodded.

“You were black.”

He studied me with an interested expression. “They said you were the wise one.” He didn’t add whether he believed them now, but he indicated a seat with his hand. He took one himself, crossing his arms over his chest while we waited for the water to boil. “How old are you?”

“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.