Nefertiti

argument when we reached her chamber and she said, “Stay with me until he returns.”

I climbed into her bed and stroked her hair comfortingly.

“The Hittites are at Mitanni’s gates and I am playing seductress to my own husband,” she seethed. Then her voice broke, “She cannot have another son.”

“She might not. It might be a princess.”

“But why can’t I have a son?” she cried. “What have I done to anger Aten?”

What have you done to anger Amun? I thought, but said nothing. “Have you been taking the honey?”

“And mandrakes.”

“And have you gone to the temples?”

“Of Aten? Of course.”

I let my silence speak.

Nefertiti asked quietly, “Do you think I should seek out Tawaret?”

“It couldn’t hurt.”

She hesitated. “Will you come? Akhenaten can’t know.”

“We can go tomorrow,” I promised, and she squeezed my hand tenderly. She turned over and pressed the covers to her chest. When she’d fallen asleep, I lay awake, wondering where in Amarna we’d find a shrine to the hippopotamus goddess of birth.

Early the next morning, before the sun was up, Merit had an answer for me. She told me that some of the women in the village kept their own statues to Tawaret for when their daughters went to the bricks to bear a child. I asked her to take us to the house with the largest shrine, and even before Akhenaten awoke, bearers carried our covered palanquin up the hills into the cluster of wealthy villas.

The rising sun in the sky was warm. Below us the city was waking in shades of cardamom and gold. I parted the linens and inhaled the scents of a woman cooking date bread and mulling wine.

“Close the curtains,” Nefertiti snapped. “This should be done quickly.”

“You’re the one who wanted to come,” I said sternly.

“Have you ever prayed to Tawaret?” she asked.

I knew what she was asking. “Yes.”

At the top of the hill, the bearers lowered the palanquin and a servant came to greet us. “Your Majesty.” The girl bowed deeply. “My lady is waiting in the loggia.”

We swept up the steps, Nefertiti, Merit, and I. The litter bearers remained in the courtyard, ignorant of why we had come, and a woman in fine linen came to greet us.

“Thank you for gracing my humble home. I am Lady Akana.” But Nefertiti wasn’t listening. She was looking around for the statue of Tawaret. “Our goddess is this way,” Lady Akana whispered. “Hidden from public view.” Her eyes shifted nervously from Nefertiti to me.

We walked to a room at the back of the villa where the reed mats were lowered. The white walls had been painted with bold images of the hippopotamus goddess. Lady Akana felt the need to explain. “Many people keep images like this, Your Majesty. Only public shrines have been forbidden. Many people keep their private shrines hidden.”

Not well hidden enough to escape Merit’s attention, I thought, and Nefertiti nodded silently.

“I shall leave you, then.” Lady Akana retreated. “If you have need of anything, you have only to call.”

Nefertiti, as if woken from a dream, turned around. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Do you want me to go as well?” I asked.

“No, I want you to pray with me. Merit, leave the offering and shut the door.”

Merit left the incense and lotus blossom on a stool, then retreated the way Lady Akana had gone. We were left alone in the chamber. The hippopotamus goddess smiled at us, her big belly of polished ebony gleamed blue in the rays filtering through the reed mats. “You go first,” Nefertiti prodded. “She knows you,” she explained.

I went to the goddess, kneeling before her with a handful of lotus blossom. “Tawaret,” I murmured, “I have come before you asking to be blessed with a child.”

“We’re here for me,” Nefertiti said sharply. I scowled over my shoulder at her.

“I have also come on behalf of the Queen of Egypt.” I pressed the lotus blossoms to Tawaret’s feet. “I have come to ask that you make her fertile.”

“With a son,” Nefertiti clarified.

“Can’t you do this yourself?” I demanded.

“No! She might not listen to me!”

I bowed my head again. “Please, Tawaret. The Queen of Egypt is in need of a son. She has been blessed by three princesses, and now she asks that you send her a prince.”

“And not Kiya,” Nefertiti blurted. “Please make it that Kiya does not have a son.”

“Nefertiti!” I cried.

She stared blankly. “What?”

I shook my head. “Just light the incense.”

She did as she was told, and we stared at the hippo goddess, enshrouded in smoke. She seemed to smile benevolently on us, even when what Nefertiti had asked for was malicious. I stood up, and Nefertiti stood with me.

“Are all your prayers like that?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind. Let’s go.”

The next morning, a messenger arrived in the Audience Chamber.

“The Great Wife Kiya is ill.”

Immediately, I thought of Nefertiti’s prayer and paled. My father glanced at me and I began to confess. “Yesterday—”

But my father’s hand cut through the air. “Go find your sister and Pharaoh in the Arena!”

I brought Akhenaten and Nefertiti, and though Nefertiti kept asking me what had happened, all I could whisper was “Your prayers have been answered.” We burst into the Audience Chamber. It had been emptied of servants and petitioners. My father stood at once. “This messenger has news for Pharaoh,” he said.

The messenger bowed low. “There is news from the Northern Palace,” he reported. “The Great Wife Kiya is ill.”

Akhenaten froze. “Ill? What do you mean? How ill?”

The messenger’s eyes fell to the ground. “She is bleeding, Your Highness.”

Akhenaten went very still and my father came toward him. “You should go to her,” he suggested.

Akhenaten turned to Nefertiti, who nodded. “Go. Go and make sure the Great Wife gets well.” He hesitated at her kindness and she smiled sweetly. “She would want you to go for me,” she said.

I narrowed my eyes at Nefertiti’s cunning, and when Akhenaten was gone, I shook my head sternly. “What’s happening?”

Nefertiti shrugged off her cloak. “Tawaret answered my prayer, just as you said.”

My father frowned. “Nothing’s done yet.”

“She’s ill,” Nefertiti said quickly. “And she’s certain to lose the child.” I stared at her in horror, and then Nefertiti smiled. “Would you find me some juice, Mutnodjmet?”

I froze. “What?”

“Find her some juice,” my father said, and I saw what was happening. They wanted me gone so they could speak in private. “Pomegranate,” Nefertiti called out after me, but I was already out the doors of the Audience Chamber.

“My lady, what happened?” Ipu stood quickly. “Why was everyone dismissed from chambers?”

“Take me to my old villa,” I replied. “Find me a chariot that will take me to Tiye.”

We rode the entire way in silence. When we arrived, the house looked the same as when I had left it. The