1348 BCE
DAY AFTER DAY, village women sent for my herbs, and sometimes I delivered them personally. In the city that sprawled beneath the white pillars of the palace, I would wind my way through the narrow streets, and often I would find myself in houses where women had just given birth and there was no hope that the mother would survive. I would bend over her sickbed to inspect her womb and make a special tea with the oil of nettle. And the women would rub their forbidden amulets to Hathor and whisper prayers to the goddess of motherhood. The first time I saw these forbidden amulets I was surprised, and a servant in the house explained quickly to me, “She has protected Egypt for a thousand years.”
“And Aten?” I asked curiously.
The servant tensed. “Aten is the sun. You cannot touch the sun. But Hathor can be held and made obeisance to.”
So, at seventeen years of age, they called me Sekem-Miw, and I came to know all the villages in Amarna better than Pharaoh himself.
“Where are we going today, my lady?”
It was the charioteer from the palace. He was not on duty, and I had reached the end of the long road from my villa. He smiled down at me, and I tried to stop myself from thinking of Nakhtmin.
“To collect seeds,” I replied, walking faster, ignoring the rapid beat of my heart.
“Your basket looks heavy. Wouldn’t you rather ride?” He slowed, and I debated. I had no guards. I had insisted on having none when I’d left Nefertiti and her palace. But without guards, I had no charioteer, and it was a long way to the quay. The charioteer saw my hesitation. “Come.” He held out his hand and I took it, stepping up into his chariot. “I’m Djedefhor.” He bowed.
Djedefhor began to appear every morning.
“Do you wait out here for me each day?” I demanded.
Djedefhor grinned. “No, not each day.”
“You shouldn’t,” I said earnestly.
“Why not?” He lent me his arm and we rolled toward the quay, where I searched out new herbs from among the foreign sellers every few days.
“Because I am the Sister of the King’s Chief Wife. It is dangerous for you to be seen with me. I’m not a favorite of Pharaoh.”
“But you’re a favorite of the queen’s.”
“Very well, then, because I am not looking to use you. Just escort you to the market and back again.”
I flushed. “You should know the man I love is in Kadesh.”
It was the first time I had spoken of Nakhtmin to anyone outside of my family.
Djedefhor bowed his head. “As I said, I want nothing from you. Just the pleasure of escorting you back and forth again.”
The first time Ipu saw me with Djedefhor, her eyes grew wide. She followed me around the house, as bad as Bastet, and tried to get me to speak about him. “Where did you meet him? Does he drive you every day? Is he married?”
“Ipu, he isn’t Nakhtmin.”
Ipu’s smile faded. “But he’s handsome.”
“Yes. He’s a handsome, kind soldier. That’s all.”
Ipu hung her head. “You’re too young to be alone,” she whispered.
“But it’s how my sister wants it,” I replied.
“The Hittite regime is growing in the north. The mayor of Lakisa sent for help this morning.” My father produced a scroll from his belt, and Tiye held out her hand to read it.
My house had become a place of meeting. I was allowed to listen while Tiye and my father debated how to rule the Kingdom of Egypt. And while the Hittite king Suppiluliumas swept through Palestine, creeping closer to Egypt, Akhenaten and Nefertiti commissioned statues and rode through the streets arrayed like gods, tossing copper from their chariots into the crowds.
My aunt lowered the scroll to her lap. “Another of Egypt’s territories in danger.” I knew she was thinking that the Elder would have forfeited his
“No,” my father said, and took back the scroll. “At some point, Akhenaten will discover that gold is being drawn from the treasury to defend Kadesh and—”
“Gold is being drawn from the treasury to defend Kadesh?” I interrupted.
“To draw more to defend Lakisa would be dangerous,” Tiye agreed, ignoring my outburst.
My father nodded, and I wondered what Akhenaten might do if it was ever discovered that Egypt’s highest vizier was siphoning gold to defend Egypt’s most important stronghold against the Hittites. My father was taking a risk, ruling Egypt the way he believed the Elder would have wanted the world’s most powerful kingdom to be ruled, but it was Akhenaten’s crown, not his, not even Nefertiti’s. When the Elder had built his army, Egypt had extended from the Euphrates into Nubia. Now her land was being eaten away, and Akhenaten was allowing it. My sister was allowing it. And had it not been Nefertiti, had it been Kiya or another harem wife, Tiye and Ay would have struck her down—murder, poison, an unfortunate fall. But Nefertiti was Ay’s daughter. She was Tiye’s niece and she was my only sister, and we were supposed to forgive her anything.
Tiye rearranged her linen. “So what will we do with Kadesh?” she asked.
“Hope the gods are with Horemheb and he will achieve victory,” my father said. “If Kadesh falls, every other city will fall in her wake, and there will nothing to stop the Hittites from marching south.”
The next month when I went to the market, Djedefhor insisted on coming with me through the crowded stalls along the quay. “It’s not safe for the Sister of the King’s Chief Wife to walk by herself,” he said.
“Really?” I smiled slyly. “And yet I have been doing it every other day since Mesore.”
I thought he was flattering me, but then he stepped forward and said seriously, “No. It is not safe for you to be alone right now.”
I glanced about me, at the bustling market with its foreign goods baking in the heavy heat. Everything was as it normally was. Only the children paid me any attention, staring at my sandals and the gold bracelets around my arms. I started to laugh, then was checked by the look on his face. He took my arm and led me through the crowd. “Pharaoh has done a foolish thing today,” he confided.
I looked at him askance. “Is my family in danger?”
He drew me into the shade where two pottery merchants had erected a pavilion. “He’s answered the mayor of Lakisa’s plea for troops with monkeys in soldiers’ garb.”
I studied him to see if he was joking. “You’re not serious.”
“I am very serious, my lady.”
I shook my head. “No! No. My father would never have allowed it.”
“I doubt your father even knows of it yet. But he will, when angry Lakisans begin marching on the palace.”
