Nefertiti

great ambitions. But aren’t you going to ask why I’m here?” The sun had turned the general’s skin a deep shade of bronze, darker than his long hair and light eyes.

“I already know why you are here,” I replied. “Pharaoh made an offer no soldier could resist. Twenty deben of silver a month.”

General Nakhtmin blinked against the merciless sun. “Is that what you think? That I sold out for handful of silver?”

I stared at him plainly. “Why else would you come?”

He stepped back and his face grew thoughtful. “When I was a boy, I saved the gold that I earned in the army to buy a farm in Thebes, and when my father died I inherited his land. So no, I did not come for a handful of deben.”

I felt I had offended him somehow, and he continued staring at me until I was forced to reply, “Then why have you come?”

He glanced at Ipu. “Perhaps you can explain it, my lady. As for myself, I must return to my soldiers before they begin stealing limestone.” He gave a quick smile. “Or alabaster.”

I watched him walk away, then rounded on Ipu. “Why does he enjoy playing with me?”

“Because he’s interested in you. He’s interested in you, and he is not sure that you are interested back.”

I was silenced.

“Only don’t let your sister see you looking like that,” Ipu warned me. “Or there will be more trouble in the palace than whether the queen gives Pharaoh a prince.”

The Temple of Aten was completed early, in time for Nefertiti to give birth. The child was weighing heavily on her, and she sat in a special pavilion decorated with images of Hathor and Bes, her feet propped on feather pillows while harpists played music in the antechamber. Fan bearers stood at every corner of the room. My sister reigned as Queen of the Bedside, snapping at anyone who was near, even our father.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me Kiya’s been going with him to see the construction? Has she taken my place now?” Her voice rose with indignation. “Has she?”

“Shut the door, Mutnodjmet,” my father ordered. He looked down at my sister. “For a few days, you will simply have to bear it. There’s nothing you can do.”

“I’m Queen of Egypt!” She struggled to sit up, and her body servants moved quickly to be at her side. “Send for Amunhotep!” she commanded. The young girls looked at our father. “I said send for Pharaoh!” Nefertiti’s voice grew sharp.

My father turned to the nearest woman and nodded. The girl scurried out. “You’d do better to concern yourself with the state of affairs in this kingdom,” he said. “Have you even bothered to find out what is happening in Thebes?”

Nefertiti shrugged. “Why should I?”

My father’s face darkened. “Because the Elder is ill.”

The servants did their best not to look at one another, but they would be gossiping come night. Nefertiti sat forward on her pillows. “How ill?”

“There is news that Anubis may take him soon.”

Nefertiti struggled to sit up. “Why haven’t I heard of this?”

“Because you haven’t heard of anything unless it concerns the Temple of Aten,” my father reproached. “When is the last time Amunhotep visited his Audience Chamber? Or corresponded with the princes of foreign nations? Every day I sit beneath the Horus throne and wield the power of a king.”

“Isn’t that what you want, the Kingdom of Egypt stretched before you?”

“Not when your husband plays Pharaoh for a day and sends statues plated in gold to his allies instead of real gold. Then I am the one who must make his amends. I am the one who must explain to the mayor of Qiltu why the army is not ready to come to his defense because the Hittites have attacked his kingdom.”

“There is an army in Thebes. Let him send them to the Elder.”

My father’s ire rose. “How long until Amunhotep uses them as workers, too? What next? A palace? A city?” I looked quickly at Nefertiti. “There is division in Egypt,” he warned. “The priests of Amun are preparing for rebellion.”

“They’d never rebel!” Nefertiti hardened her jaw, a seventeen-year-old queen.

“Why not?” my father challenged. “With Horemheb at their side?”

“Then Horemheb would be a traitor and Amunhotep would have him killed.”

“And if the army joined with him? What then?”

Nefertiti recoiled, her hands on her stomach, as if to protect her child from such news. Then the door to Nefertiti’s birthing chamber opened and Amunhotep arrived.

“The most beautiful queen in Egypt!” he proclaimed.

“The only Queen of Egypt,” Nefertiti said sharply. “Where were you?”

“At the temple.” Amunhotep smiled. “The altar is ready.”

“And did you consecrate it with Kiya?” she hissed.

Amunhotep froze.

“Did you?” she shouted. “Now that I’m Pharaoh’s heifer, about to birth a prince, I’m not of interest anymore?”

Amunhotep looked around the chamber, hesitating, then moved quickly to her side, placing his hand on hers. “Nefertiti—”

“It is my likeness that looks down over the people of Egypt. I am the one who watches over this kingdom. Not Kiya!”

Amunhotep knelt swiftly. “I am sorry.”

“You will not go with her again. Say you won’t go with her.”

“I promise—”

“A promise is not enough. Swear it to me. On Aten.”

He saw the seriousness in her face and said it. “I swear it to you on Aten.”

My father and I exchanged glances, and my sister raised him from the ground. “Did you know your father is ill?” she asked, settling back on her pillows, creating the illusion beautifully: When she was happy, everything unfolded in Amunhotep’s favor.

At once he stood up. “The Elder is ill?” He looked at my father. “Is it true?”

My father bowed. “Yes, Your Highness. There is such news from Thebes.”

Amunhotep tossed his glance around the chamber, and for the first time he seemed to notice the women. “Go!” he shouted. Ipu and Merit hustled the women out. Amunhotep turned to my father. “How long until he is dead?”

My father stiffened. “The Pharaoh of Egypt may live another year.”

“You said he was ill. You said there was word.”

“The gods may preserve him for longer.”

“The gods have abandoned him!” Amunhotep cried. “It is me they look after, not a decrepit old man.” Amunhotep crossed the chamber in two strides, then opened the door and spoke to the guards. “Find me the builder Maya,” he commanded. Then he turned to my father. “You will go back to the Audience Chamber and draft a letter to the princes of every nation. Warn them that within the season I shall be Pharaoh of Upper Egypt.”

The color in my father’s cheeks revealed his temper. “He may not die by then, Your Majesty.”

Amunhotep came so close to my father that for a moment I thought he would kiss him. Instead, he whispered in his ear, “You’re wrong. The Elder’s reign is finished.”

He stepped toward the door and summoned the guards again. “Find Panahesi!” He turned back to my father. “The High Priest of Aten is making a trip to Thebes,” he announced. “Go now and draft a letter to the kings of foreign nations.”

He indicated the door, and my father and I were led into the hall. Then he barred it shut it behind us. Immediately, muffled voices could be heard from within, high pitched and excited. I followed the angry slap of my