Nefertiti

“I don’t know.”

Amunhotep closed the distance between himself and Horemheb. They stood at the same height, but only one had the love of the army. “Why don’t you kneel before the representative of Aten?”

“You put these men in jeopardy, Your Highness. The most elite of your fighting force is here. Men who ride chariots into battle are carving your likeness into stone when they should be defending our borders from the Hittites. This is not a wise use of trained men.”

“I will determine what is wise! You are nothing more than a soldier and I am Pharaoh of Egypt.” Amunhotep stiffened. “You will bow before me.”

Horemheb remained standing and Amunhotep’s hand flew to the dagger at his side. He stepped forward threateningly. “Tell me,” he said, drawing the knife from its sheath, “do you think your men would rise against me if I were to kill you here?” He glanced around him nervously. “I think they would continue to kneel, even as your blood soaked into the sand.”

Horemheb inhaled. “Then try it, Your Highness.”

Amunhotep hesitated. He looked around at the thousands of soldiers whose powerful bodies were clad in kilts, but were weaponless. Then he sheathed his dagger and stepped away. “Why don’t you obey me?” he demanded.

“We struck a deal,” Horemheb replied. “I obeyed His Highness and His Highness betrayed Egypt.”

“I betrayed no one,” Amunhotep said viciously. “You betray me. You and this army. You think I don’t know that you were friends with Tuthmosis? That you were loyal to him?”

Horemheb said nothing.

“You would have knelt before my brother!” Amunhotep cried. “Tell me you wouldn’t have knelt before Tuthmosis.”

Horemheb remained silent and suddenly Amunhotep’s fist lashed out, connecting with the general’s stomach. Horemheb sucked in his breath, but his legs didn’t buckle. Amunhotep looked quickly at the soldiers around him, whose bodies went tense, ready to defend their general. Then he grabbed Horemheb’s shoulder and whispered savagely, “You are relieved of this duty. Go back to my father. But you would do well to remember that when the Elder dies, I will be Pharaoh of Upper Egypt as well.”

The crowds parted as Horemheb moved toward his chariot. Then the soldiers turned as one to look at Amunhotep.

“Resume the building!” Panahesi shouted. “Resume!”

Even though it was early in the morning, a fire crackled in the brazier inside my chamber. Nefertiti sat in a gilded chair nearest the heat, the light of the flames illuminating the lapis eye between her breasts. Our father sat back, his fingers under his chin. The rest of the palace was asleep.

“Is there nothing you can do to manage his temper?”

The fire snapped and hissed. Nefertiti sighed. “I do what I can. He hates the army.”

“They are what keep him in power,” my father said sternly. “Horemheb will not forget what he did.”

“Horemheb is in Thebes,” Nefertiti replied.

“And when the Elder dies?”

“That could be another ten years.” She was using my words, even though I knew she didn’t believe them.

“Without the army, Egypt is weak. You are fortunate that in Thebes there are still generals who prepare their soldiers for war.”

“They will only be building for three seasons,” she defended.

“Three?” My father rose in anger. “It was six and now it’s three? How can an army complete a temple in a year?”

“I am with child!” Nefertiti clasped her stomach. “He has to be consecrated on the altar of Aten.” My father glared at her. “It’s Amunhotep’s wish,” she added. “And if I don’t do it, then Kiya will. What if she gives him a son?” she asked desperately.

“She will be brought to bed within seven days,” my father warned. “If it’s a prince, he will celebrate. There will be feasting and processions.”

Nefertiti closed her eyes, willing herself to be calm, but my father shook his head.

“Prepare yourself for it. These next few days must belong to Kiya.”

I could see the determination in my sister’s face. “I’m going with him this morning to the Arena,” she declared. She turned to the closet where she kept her riding clothes and called for Merit.

“You’re going to ride with him?” I exclaimed. “But you haven’t ridden in days!”

“And now I will. It was a mistake to think I could settle comfortably into pregnancy.”

She tore through her closet until Merit came. Even at this hour of the morning, her body servant’s kohl was perfect and her linen crisp. Nefertiti said sharply, “My gauntlets and helmet. Quickly. Before Amunhotep’s awake and wants to ride.”

My father confronted Merit. “Is she endangering the child?”

Nefertiti glared at Merit from behind my father’s shoulder, and Merit said immediately, “It’s early, Vizier. Only a few months.”

Nefertiti tightened the belt around her waist. “Perhaps if I ride my blood will quicken and make it a son.”

On the twenty-eighth of Thoth, Ipu came running into my chamber where Nefertiti and I were playing Senet.

“It’s happening!” she cried. “Kiya is having the child.”

We both scrambled out of our chairs and rushed down the hall to our parents’ chamber. My mother and father were sitting together, speaking quickly in hushed tones.

“She is going to have a boy,” Nefertiti whispered.

My father looked at me, as if I had told her something I shouldn’t have. “Why should you say that?”

“Because I dreamed it last night. She is going to give birth to a Prince of Egypt!”

My mother stood up and shut the door. The palace was overrun with messengers who were waiting to make a proclamation to the kingdom.

Nefertiti panicked. “I can’t let it happen! I won’t let it happen.”

“There’s nothing you can do,” my father said.

“There’s always something I can do!” she proclaimed. Nefertiti added calculatingly, “When Amunhotep returns, tell him I’m not well.”

My mother frowned, but my father saw what game she was playing at once. “How unwell?” he asked quickly.

“So unwell…” Nefertiti hesitated. “So unwell that I could die and lose the child.”

My father looked to me. “You must confirm her story when he asks.” He spun around and instructed Merit. “Take her to her room and bring her fruit. Don’t leave her side until you see Pharaoh.”

Merit bowed. “Of course, Vizier.” I thought I saw a smile at the edge of her lips. She bowed to Nefertiti. “Shall we go, Your Highness?”

I remained at the door. “But what should I do?”

“Tend to your sister,” my father said meaningfully. “And do as she asks.”

We walked in procession to Nefertiti’s chamber, slowly, so that if anyone should see us, they would know something was wrong with the queen. In her room, Nefertiti lay like an invalid. “My sheath,” she said. “Spread it for me.”

I gave her a long look.

“Across my legs and over the sides of the bed.”

“This is terrible, what you are doing,” I told her. “You’ve already displaced Kiya in Amunhotep’s affections. Isn’t that enough?”